Forever Yours: Letters in Blood series, #3

By L. Lovelock and Liz Lovelock

Dear Captor,

You show me you care, but then something changes. The brightness in your eyes shines through on your good days, but when you come to me on your dark days, the blackness has taken over.

At least I know what I'm in for . . . pain.

You've managed to crawl under my skin in the most excruciating yet sensual way, my darkest secrets are now yours, and the emotions I feel for you are something I've never felt before. This sensation is strange, yet exhilarating.

Do you feel the same?

If you do love me, please . . . let me go.

Forever yours,

Elenore 

• Language: English
• Publisher: L. Lovelock
• Release date: Nov 15, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386600060

Book preview

Prologue

My name is Elenore Burrows—at least, that’s what I go by. I’ve been kidnapped, tortured, and now left for dead. Each drop of blood that escapes my veins takes me one step closer to the end. This isn’t how I planned to die, but nothing ever goes the way you want it to.

The intruder who attacked me was really the devil himself. Here I was thinking my captor was pure evil. I was devastatingly wrong. I’d gladly take the cuts and torturing of my emotions than the violation of my body, which the captor inflicted.

The gates of heaven opened for me today. The question is, am I ready to walk through them?

Chapter One

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Knowing this wonderful day is coming to a close and I have to face reality it’s daunting. My reality is a living hell.

My salmon colored, paint-chipped house comes into view and my stomach sinks with despair. The lights are on, which means one thing… the monsters are home. The thing is, they seem to be always home lately.

There’s something they’re keeping from me. Every day their words hurt like stones being thrown at my body. All the frustrations of their bad day come barreling at me in the shape of fists.

As if reading my thoughts, Dean’s angry tone halts me in my tracks. You know you don’t have to go back there.

He’s right. Where would I go, though? I have no one in this world except for my neighbor, and hell, I can’t move there. That would be like teasing the devil and his mistress.

I have to. My voice cracks at the thought of someone actually caring about me. Taking my arm, Dean steps in front of me.

We could leave together and never come back? he pleads. His eyes linger on a fresh bruise on my wrist, and I cross my arms over my chest to hide them from his sight. He never says anything, he doesn’t need to; his eyes do all the talking. I think he knows I don’t want to talk about it. Our time together is my escape from reality, because reality for me is a nightmare that no amount of pinching will wake me from.

My hands glide down his face. His expression is sad, yet there’s a fire in his eyes. You’re such a great friend, Dean. But I need to go in there. I’ll be eighteen soon, so everything will be alright. I can leave and my parents won’t be able to force me to stay in this house.

No. It won’t be alright. What if they kill you?

It’s not like that thought hasn’t crossed my mind plenty of times before. A crack of thunder startles me, and I jump back. We knew a storm was coming, but we weren’t sure what kind it would be. Dean takes my hands from his face and holds them, squeezing.

Dean, these thoughts cross my mind daily. I’ve been planning to leave as soon as I’m eighteen. If I do what I’m told, I’m okay.

He drops my hand and starts pacing in front of me.

A droplet of water hits my face. I wipe it away and look to the threatening sky—it’s darker than normal.

I’ll be waiting out here, and if I hear one sound as though they’re hurting you, or raised voices, I’m coming in and you’re leaving with me. I open my mouth to protest but his hand comes up, stopping me. No, no arguing. If something happens tonight, I’m taking you away from this hell. No one should live like this.

My shoulders sag as the tension leaves them. Okay. Thanks for caring, Dean.

Before we continue walking, Dean takes me in his arms, giving me the warmest hug I’ve ever experienced. He smells like the popcorn we enjoyed earlier. He places a feather-light kiss on my forehead. Be safe, he whispers before releasing me.

I linger for a moment, simply looking at him. A crack of thunder makes me jump. Turning my back on the second good thing in my life, Suzie being the first, I walk toward my doom.

With each step closer to the house my anxiety spikes to its highest. Looking back over my shoulder, Dean walking slowly behind me. There’s a serious expression on his face, as if he’s waiting for something to happen. I already know something will; I’ve been out all day. They don’t like that. Raindrops hit my skin as a deep chill runs up my spine.

With one last glance at Dean, I head up the stairs to my front door. The storm outside begins to get louder. Turning the handle, I push it open, and my heart slams against my chest like a beating drum. Once inside, I pull the door shut behind me.

I learned quickly in this house not to turn my back on the other tenants. In the living room, they stand, and I square my shoulders to face them. They have never been waiting for me like this. My mother, with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. My father beside her, his jaw tensing.

Where have you been? he growls. His hands are dug deep in his pockets.

I stop, putting some distance between us. At the library, then the park. My voice is shaky. I always try to hold my own; now that I’m older I don’t want to be weak. I’ve put up with so much that I don’t think I can take more of their punches and knives being swung at me.

Who were you with?

I raise my eyebrows at my mother’s question. What does that have to do with anything? I decide lying is the better option. No one, I reply. Knowing Dean is outside, waiting to take me away, gives me a little comfort. As I stand before my monster parents, I can’t even accept they are my family.

My father takes two large strides and grips my shirt, pulling me right up to his face. I didn’t even have a chance to step back. You’re lying to me. He releases his grip, only to allow himself access to my face. His large hand slams me across the cheek.

My eyes water from the sting of the contact, and I suck in a hard breath. Why do I put up with this? Dean is right. No one should live like this.

For lying, you’re going in the basement. Also, I found your little stash so now you’re without water and snacks. You’ll starve down there before I let you see the sunlight again.

No, please, I beg. Tears swell in my eyes blurring my vision. The thought of the room’s familiar dark, damp, and disgusting scares me.

My father grabs my ponytail and yanks me toward the dark room. My mother kicks my feet out from under me, causing me to fall and be dragged. I let out a scream.

I can’t take this anymore. I need to get out of this place or I’m going to die. Finding my feet again, I begin pulling back. As much as this hurts my scalp, and it feels as though my hair is going to be pulled out, I need to fight. Fight to survive. My father yanks harder, until we’re standing at the open door to the dark room.

Adrenaline pumps through me, and knowing this is going to hurt me as well, I take the risk. With everything I can muster, I ram my father in the ribs with my head, causing him to stumble and fall down the stairs. I follow behind. My body slams against the steps then lands on my unmoving father. I hope he doesn’t get up. My mother screams profanities at me, and as she comes toward me she grips something in her hand.

My eyes adjusted to the minimal light.

It’s a gun.

Why do they have a gun? Were they planning to kill me? Where is Dean? I thought he’d be here by now. Another loud crack of thunder outside soundtracks the scene that’s playing out before me.

Why do you have a gun? I shakily ask, not moving my eyes from the black metal she aims at me. Slowly I stand up holding my hands out in front of me. A loud groan comes from my father, and my stomach twists with dread. He’s still alive. Now I’m in for it.

Because it’s time for you to die, you worthless girl, my mother hisses at me.

My gaze flicks from her to him and back to her. She holds the gun steadily aimed at my chest. Her hands don’t shake, yet mine are trembling.

What did I ever do to you, for you both to hate me so much? I scream at them. If I’m going to