Illusion of Escape: Crystal Clear Series

By Lana Kole

A single, independent woman focused on her career, Mori Copeland has no time for anything other than her cat and her peaceful solitude. It helps that her dreams are filled with the perfect man to console her. Sometimes, he seems a little more real than others.
But isn't he just the product of Mori's overactive imagination?
Closer than brothers, Kai, Walker, Remi, and Levi are not one without the others. With Walker missing, the other three will do anything it takes to retrieve their friend…including kidnapping the sexy redhead that's about to come into her powers. With her undeniable connection to the missing mage, they'll drag her kicking and screaming into magekynd if they have to.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lana Kole
• Release date: Jun 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201994396

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Darkness was all Mori knew. A black so thick, it seemed almost corporeal, surrounded her. An alarm blared, but from where she didn’t know—or care. Metal shackles burrowed into the skin of her wrists and suspended her hands above her head, or else she would wave them about to prove it was too dark to see her own palms. Warmth dripped down her arms and the pain in her wrists flared. The bloody injuries suggested she had been fighting the restraints containing her and had torn open old wounds. Just how long had she been here?

She took a deep breath, and a bruising agony rippled through her abdomen. Apparently, she’d been beaten today. Having yet to discover a pattern, a sinking suspicion arose that maybe they just decided to beat the shit out of her whenever boredom struck. At that thought, she had to be glad they weren’t in this room with her, otherwise the punishment might occur a lot more often. It was boring as fuck in here. Nothing to do, no one to talk to, and she didn’t even have any damn snacks to help her pass the time. A memory flashed through her mind of an article explaining that the parts of the brain controlling hunger and boredom were too close together to separate the two emotions. When she discovered that fun little fact, it dawned on her why she always had a full pantry. Her stomach growled as she spoke, her voice bouncing around the cell as she called out to her attackers.

Helloooo? Don’t you guys have any snacks? Chips? Popcorn? A fucking candy bar? The oppressive darkness and continued blaring were her only answer. "Guess not. You guys are not the hostesses with the mostesses."

That annoying, shrill tone of the alarm sounded and she wished she could move her hands just so she could cover her ears. "And guys! What the hell is that fucking noise? Is someone finally coming to rescue my ass? Plot twist—are your asses getting beat as I speak?"

Receiving no answer, she sighed and arched her chest forward, stretching her back, and not caring that the motion made her wrists throb. Her shoulders popped, and she made a small pterodactyl sound. That’s the shit. If only they would unchain her long enough for her to throw her body into just one simple yoga pose. Her body needed some cobra action, like yesterday.

A slice of light blinded her. She squinted her eyes against the brightness, and it took a second before it registered that the door was opening. Her heart started pounding and adrenaline coursed through her body, the ear-piercing alarm growing even louder. Needing to open her eyes and finally see who it was behind this nonsense, her eyelids lifted, but it was too late—

Mori leaned over and slapped the shit out of her phone, fumbling until she could get her finger to tap the silence button on that damned alarm haunting her dreams. Huffing in frustration, she rolled back over and stared at her bland, white ceiling. The sunshine had decided to make an appearance and threatened to blind her, so she tugged her thick quilt up until it made a tiny tent to block out the light from the bottom corner of the window. Memories of the dream played through her mind on repeat.

Despite knowing it was futile, she gave in to the temptation to snooze as the comfy bed held her hostage. Or she tried to, at least. After the dungeon dreams, as she had deemed them long ago, Mori never could fall back into the peaceful relaxation of sleep. It was too real. As she remembered the very air of the hellish environment, a shiver worked its way up her spine. The damp coolness, the complete darkness, the feeling of someone watching. That was the worst part, like when you have your back turned to a door and you can feel someone walk into the room. It was just a… niggling little feeling that settled in the back of your neck, and you couldn’t help but look around. Frustrated at the mere thought, she tore the covers off her body. She threw her legs over the side of the bed, cursing as the bottom of her foot was impaled on the phone charger that was most definitely not plugged in. And I thought Legos were bad. They don’t have anything on the wall connecter of a fucking phone charger.

Hopping her way into the bathroom to begin her morning routine, she salivated at the thought of the iced coffee she was treating herself to after this miserable start. Was the day going to be miserable? She had no idea and didn’t care if a damn unicorn wanted to fly her to work and give her a pot of gold, she would tell it to fuck off. Her mood was already in the shitter for the morning. Wait, do unicorns fly? I think it’s leprechauns who give gold too. Who cares? They all suck.

The pain of trying to plug the charger into her foot had subsided by the time she made it into her kitchen, fully made up for the day. Tossing an uncooperative mahogany curl out of her face, she hoped caffeine would turn her morning around. Beelining to the fridge, her trusty carton of premade iced coffee was—

"Are you fucking kidding me? Empty! That’s what you are, you piece of shit. You’re empty. Because why not? On this glorious fucking Monday morning from hell in a handbasket…" She cursed for a few more minutes, as she tipped the carton to expel the last few sips of coffee into her open mouth, only stopping when the only other good thing in her life—her cat—interrupted her.

Unless you can use some kitty magic and conjure some coffee for me, you are not allowed to yell at me this early. The cat in question—Trash—completely ignored her as he let out the loudest, half god-awful and half adorable, meow she had ever heard. Her mood perked up instantly.

Dammit, why do you have to be so cute? Leaning down to pick up her fat cat, she huffed at the effort. Maybe you should skip breakfast this morning, eh? He growled at her as if he could understand her and she chuckled before slinging him over her shoulder and settling his fuzzy butt into the crook of her elbow. A smile graced her lips as he nuzzled into her neck while she bustled around the kitchen. Petting his back and cooing to him, she returned her unused coffee mug to the cabinet.

He grew restless as she followed the same motions she always did when feeding him. The swish of the silverware drawer and the chime of the spoons against each other were his calling card.

Okay, okay, you can get down. Your claws are getting too happy anyway. Setting him on her breakfast island, she moved to the cabinet containing his cans of food, sighing at the sight of so few cans.

"Trash, you are gonna have to stop eating. Do you know how expensive these cans are? A dollar seventy-nine per can. Per. Can. Do you understand that? Drumming her nails on the countertop, she eyed her little demon. What if I split the serving of the can in half?" Said demon swished his tail and meowed in a decidedly unenthusiastic manner.

Fine. Trashhole. Cracking open the can, she smiled at his little happy meow. He might be a tiny trash demon, but he was her trash demon and the best part of her life. Having pulled him out of a dumpster when he was just a little bitty kitten, she had never wanted to take him to the local SPCA. Still smiling at the memory, she spooned his food into his special dish—hand painted with Trash on the front.

All right Trash, you stay out of trouble while I’m gone, you hear? After rinsing the can out, she tossed it into the recycling bin. Leaving him with a little scratch behind the ears, she retrieved her keys from the hook by the back door. I’m just going to work and if I have time I’ll stop by on lunch and hang out to keep you company during your stressful day, napping and such. Opening the back door, she leaned her head around the panel and before closing it behind her, called out, I love you, bye!

By the time she made it to work, a giant iced coffee was in her hand and a smile adorned her face, ready to deal with whatever shit came her way that day. Now that caffeine saturated her veins, nothing could ruin this day, not even Maggie’s sickeningly sweet husband who brought her to work and walked her to her office to say goodbye. Especially not when he kissed and hugged her, and then came back for a second kiss before leaving. Mori’s eye twitched, but she waved to him.

Bye, Ken! That wasn’t his name, but he was so flawless he might as well be a doll. Taking a long sip of iced coffee, she sighed. The vanilla goodness cooled off her irritation. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Maggie’s perfect husband… she just wanted to punch him in the face sometimes because he was just too perfect. Impossibly so.

Maggie herself interrupted the fantasy as she walked in and leaned against the doorjamb of Mori’s office with a cheery smile. Yes, Maggie was one of those people. Mori held up a finger as she brought the straw to her lips again and made a show of sucking the lifeblood down slowly, pointing her finger to the halfway mark on the cup. Maggie crossed her arms, and with a raised eyebrow, waited until she could see the liquid make its way to the indicated line on the cup. The second the level of coffee was even with the blue dash, she got right to it.

Me. You. Dinner this Friday. Yes?

Mori smiled at her short words. Girls’ night?

Maggie laughed. "Yes, Ken will probably stay at home. You need to stop calling him that. He does have a real name."

I know he does, but Ken fits so well, you know? she teased, keeping it light.

Maggie gave her the look. The one she gave the Mission kids when they misbehaved. Mori sighed. Okay, I’ve been properly chastised. No more Ken. I’ll use his real name… Thomas. Pouting for effect, she took another sip of coffee and opened her email, hoping to have a new donor inquiry in her inbox. As a fundraising manager, she was in charge of acquiring funds for the various projects Missions for Minors took on throughout the year. Anger flaring, she paused on the subject line of the only email in her box.

Maggie must have seen the exasperation on her face, and her look of victory faded into one of worry as she sank down into one of the chairs in front of the desk. I know. I read the same email before I came to see you. It’s actually why I’m here.

Mori fought to put on a good show, hiding her relief. What does he mean he’s withdrawing his consideration for a donation? I even went to dinner with that asshole!

Flawless, strawberry blonde strands swished as Maggie shook her head. I know. He was a lost cause. Boss thinks he just wanted to brag to a pretty lady about how much money he was going to donate and… well… Maggie trailed off, the reason why dawning on Mori several days too late.

Mori leaned back in her office chair in defeat. Propping her hands up on the armrests and letting her shoulders sag, she leaned her head back to stare up at the ceiling. In a dry voice, she confirmed, "And I’m the only single one in the office who could entertain."

Maggie winced and held up her hands in a ‘hold on’ motion. Come on, now. Richard wasn’t the type to donate out of the goodness of his heart. Everyone knew that, and you were the one least likely to take his attention seriously.

Mori forced her features to relax into a façade of nonchalance, instead of showing how upset she truly was. She couldn’t quite hold back her attitude though. "No biggie. Bossman Daniel just wanted to whore me out so Richy McRichpants would have a pretty lady to woo with his big bucks. Then when I didn’t reciprocate his awful pickup lines and hop into bed with him, he withdrew his donation."

Dismay flashed through her friend’s soft green eyes at Mori’s scalding tone. Now, hold on. That’s a little harsh, don’t you think? Daniel would never do that to you and you know it. He didn’t know Richard was going to treat you like that or else he never would’ve considered even doing business with him.

Mori sighed. I know, and it probably didn’t help that I kicked him in the balls.

"You did what?"

Ah yes, early morning embarrassment for Mori. Unfortunately, that was not a joke. Daniel might not have been ‘whoring me out’ per se, Mori brought her index and middle fingers together in the air and bent them in quotation marks, but Richard didn’t get that memo.

What are you talking about? I thought you parted ways after he had too many drinks.

I might have sugarcoated it. For both of our benefits. Mori grabbed her coffee and used the straw to move the ice around inside the cup, avoiding the mom look. Aware of Maggie’s protective instincts, Mori flinched and almost wished she’d kept her mouth shut. No way would Maggie let this go.

Maggie spoke through clenched teeth. What happened?

Unsure where to start, or if she even wanted to go down this road, Mori hesitated. It would bring heaps of drama, and drama made it difficult to go home, shed the workday, and cuddle with Trash. Internally, she smirked at the way that sounded.

Maggie spoke again when Mori paused for too long. I swear to all that is holy if you don’t spill it right now, I’ll have Daniel come talk to you about it. If he was inappropriate, Daniel will need to know so we can blacklist him.

That got her attention, and she sat up straight, alarm bright in her eyes. Don’t tell Daniel. He will turn this into something that’s bigger than it is, and if it gets out, I’ll never hear the end of it. Sighing, Mori placed her coffee cup on the desk and traced the condensation on the plastic with her fingertip. If I tell you, it will be to my best girlfriend Maggie, not HR Maggie. Maggie nodded and Mori exhaled in relief.

Okay then. Mori decided to rush through the story. After dinner, we walked to this swanky bar next door where all of his rich pals were. After I tried, unsuccessfully, to gain a new lead, I decided to leave. He walked me outside to wait on my cab and… Mori paused to take a deep breath as annoyance, shame, and embarrassment flooded through her, before telling the rest of her story to the ice in her cup. We chitchatted a little bit more before he tugged me around the corner of the building and tried to shove his hands up my dress. I was frozen, and by the time it registered what was about to happen, he… uhm… Struggling to put it into words, she couldn’t say it out loud and make it real.

No, she refused to remember the feel of his hands groping her. I stopped him from going any further. I kicked him in the balls and then brought his flawless nose down over my knee. Thankfully the driver arrived at that exact moment, because I climbed in and went home. It’s not that big of a deal, he could have done so much worse. Women go through much worse shit way too often for me to make a huge ordeal out of the whole thing.

Maggie didn’t say anything for a moment, so Mori looked up to gauge her reaction and was surprised to find she was crying. Mori panicked. Maggie? What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Mori rushed around the desk to sit in the chair adjacent to Maggie’s and pull her closer.

Maggie shrugged her off and reached for a tissue on the corner of Mori’s desk. I’m crying because you won’t. I can’t believe he did that to you. Moriah he… he touched you. Without your consent. Mori could see the horror of the situation dawning on Maggie’s face.

It’s… it’s okay. He could’ve done a lot worse. It’s fine. I got my pound of flesh… or ounce, if you really think about it. Maggie blinked, so she tried again. You know, because he has tiny balls?

Maggie snorted, then giggled before it turned into outright laughter, which was exactly what Mori was aiming for.

God, I love you. You’re the toughest woman I know. They sobered up, and the next words out of Maggie’s mouth were her real fear. "We need to tell Daniel. Richard can be blacklisted, and he should be. Then we won’t have to do business with him again, ever."

Maggie, no. If you tell Daniel, he will overreact, and then if it gets out Richard will have his press buddies up our ass, and we can’t deal with that. Our program is successful because we keep the kids out of the media. We don’t need them sniffing around.

Maggie narrowed her eyes at Mori as she tried to find a way around it. You’re right, fine. But think about this, if Richard is not blacklisted, and he gets into another part of the company that we don’t oversee, what if he volunteers and gets a teen girl as his missionary?

That won’t happen. We don’t partner men with our girls. Women only.

We both know this, but what if it’s a group mission? Someone won’t be around to watch him 24/7.

Mori chewed her lower lip until a flake of skin shredded as she stressed about Maggie’s words. Mori knew, she knew, that Richard would never spend any of his precious time doing something so helpful as building a house or painting a student center… but what if? Could she, even for a moment, entertain the possibility that if he could—she hated being associated with these words—sexually assault her, would he do it to another woman? A girl even? One who was vulnerable from a bad home life and looking for comfort from any direction?

She stood up and ran to Daniel’s office.

CHAPTER TWO

That evening, she returned home to a blissfully quiet house, at least until Trash meowed and ran up to rub against her legs. He almost tripped her in his excitement as he yelled at her, and Mori couldn’t even find the energy to be mad at him.

Instead, she cooed, Yes, Mom’s home. I know you’re hungry. I’m sorry I didn’t get to come home for lunch, but you would not believe the shit I had to put up with today.

Hanging her keys on the metal loop by the kitchen entrance, she set her purse on the island, and immediately moved through the motions to open a can of food. Trying to think about anything but her day at work, the first thing she focused on was the special kitty bowl she spooned chow into for Trash.

When she said special, she meant it. She and Maggie had gotten drunk and stumbled into one of those craft bars. Not craft beer, oh no. This had been a bar for all sorts of do-it-yourself projects, and they were able to pick out something, paint it, and take it home with them, all while drinking. Mori had picked the blank white cat dish, painted it black fading to gray to match its owner, and emblazoned his name on the front in a bright cerulean color to match the collar she had bought him not too long before. Did she care if she was little over the top? Nope. In her mind, the cat was her baby and she spoiled him accordingly.

Maybe Maggie would want to go to the craft bar on Friday. Mori could use a new… something, she was sure.

Her musings only lasted for so long before the thoughts she was attempting to avoid barged to the forefront of her mind. A mild headache accompanied the dreadful topic—the discussions with Maggie and Daniel, and the decision they made in his office today. Trudging out of her kitchen, she made a pit stop in her bedroom, where she pulled on her comfiest pants and t-shirt to prepare herself for some mind-numbing TV.

In the bathroom, she studied her bluish-gray gaze in the mirror. She took in the dark circles reinforcing her caffeine dependency, and the bloodshot eyes broadcasting her stress and sleeplessness. With a groan, she made her way to hunt for her favorite comfort food: wine.

One quick pasta meal, a glass of wine, and a fuzzy blanket later, she settled in to veg out to a cooking show with Trash in her lap. Unfortunately, her mind had other plans. As Trash purred in contentment from the soft strokes across his fur, she reflected on just how much of a shit show her life was about to become.

When Daniel heard the story of what Richard had done, he’d been furious. So much so, Mori even thought he might care a little. It warmed her cold, dead heart just the slightest. He wanted to throw out all the stops. Host a press conference, blacklist him, and let the whole world know what that asshole had done. Mori had been mortified, and told Maggie and Daniel as much. If her assault went to the press, Mori’s entire life would be picked apart under a microscope. Granted, Richard was a grade-A jackass, but he was also running for political office. He had the staunch support of his followers, all viewing him with rose-colored glasses. So even though she still had a bruise on her knee from acquainting his nose with it, and a bruise on her hip where he gripped her too hard, past scandals suggested they would all find some crazy explanation for it. The fact that she never filed a police report would not help her case either.

The thought of victim shaming made her sick. Pathetic excuses like a dress, drinking alcohol, or being in another man’s presence. Scoffing, she thought, at this rate, she might as well not even breathe in someone else’s direction, lest she tempt a man into thinking she was interested.

But she wasn’t bitter. No, the injustice of it just made her stomach revolt, left her wanting to hit something.

Thankfully, Daniel had acquiesced to her pleading and agreed to keep it quiet. Mori wanted to forget the whole thing and avoid the invasiveness that would follow were the press to find out.

Looking down at Trash, she wondered if she could ever put what happened behind her. Wondered if the feel of his hands against her skin would ever be a distant memory instead of a stain.

I wish you could talk, buddy. You’d be nice company right now if you could take my mind off everything. The chef’s filet mignon with maple bacon glaze just isn’t doing it for me tonight.

Giving up on the extravagant meals the TV show taunted her with, she carried Trash to bed, feeding him the obligatory treats before crawling between her covers. She used social media to distract herself for a while until she almost dropped the phone on her face, and then muted it before rolling onto her back. Trash crawled up from the foot of the bed and cuddled in his favorite spot. His lower body laid half on, half off her upper arm and shoulder, his head resting right against her cheek. It was moments like this she absolutely treasured, feeling so loved by the one constant in her life. Tilting her face to give him a kiss on the top of his little kitty head, she drifted off to peaceful blankness while lying to herself, claiming no tears wet her pillow.

* * *

When I said I wanted to take my mind off my shit show of a life, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind. Waking up with her wrists shackled, she thought, not again. This time they were switching it up. Her back was to the room and her arms were tied out in a T-shape instead of above her head. Forehead against the concrete wall, she took inventory of her situation. Her back ached, a throbbing pain lacing through her with every breath.

Ah, whips. Yes, these are my favorite. Her next breath came out in a wince and she tried to be as still as possible. Her own blood dripping down the backs of her legs and to the cold concrete floor was her only companion.

You know, if you guys are going to make a mess of my back, the least you could do is clean up after yourselves. Didn’t your mothers ever teach you manners? Her sarcasm was met with silence, and her mind turned to other avenues.

Even in her dream, her thoughts were still heavy with everything from work and the dick who started it all. Dick. Laughter, or maybe hysteria, bubbled out of her.

Oh my god, I just remembered the best thing in the world. The short name for Richard is Dick! And his last name is Holder! She regretted her laughter instantly as her muscles contracted, irritating the open wounds on her back, and her laugh strangled in her throat. Sucking in a sharp breath, she refused to let the pain get her down, and grinned into the darkness. This is the best day of my life! Quick, someone help me come up with a new insult about dicks. And… go!

Continuing her solitary tirade, she vented out her feelings in the only way she knew how—sarcasm.

Okay, so. Dickweed. Dickless. Dickbag. Dick… nugget? No, that sucks. Dicklord. I kinda like that… hmm…

From the blackness of the room, a voice struck her