Burning Ember
Copyright © 2015 Darby Briar.
Published by Darby Briar 2015
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, and locations is purely coincidental. Darby Briar is in no way affiliated with any songs, brands, musicians or artists mentioned in this book. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
WARNING:
For Mature Audience 18+
Contains Adult Sexual Situations & Language
Please, even if you are a personal friend, if you are offended by the word
FUCK or GRAPHIC SEX . . . then PUT THE BOOK DOWN NOW.
This is a biker romance novel and as such it contains no princes, unicorns, or rainbows.
Thank you (:
HOC Insignia: Andrea Macedo
Cover Design: Romantic Book Affair Designs
Cover Picture: Perrywinkle Photography
Models: Chris York and Megan RaNae Nall
Editing: Hot Tree Editing
Interior Design, Formatting and Proofreading: Perfectly Publishable
To my SS (my Marky Marc) and my minions. If it wasn’t for your patience and love, I would have never finished this book. It was such a huge undertaking. I appreciate you letting me disappear for hours at a time so I could focus on this obsession of mine. I love you with every crazy bone in my body. xoxo
Table of Contents
Burning Ember
Harbingers of Chaos ~ Book One
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Playlist
Acknowledgements
About the Author
JULY 2008
When your life burns to ash before you, it’s hard to find hope within the embers of what remains.
The overwhelming scent of gasoline invades my nose. The stench rises from my clothes and skin, blocking out the smell of the fiery inferno blazing before me. Heat licks at every exposed surface of my body and my eyes have grown as dry as the Mojave.
Still, it’s impossible to look away.
Not only is the contrast of the orange-yellow flames against the midnight sky mesmerizing, but I’m too desperate to witness every inch of the basement burn. With each second, the proof of the depravity I’ve lived through turns to charcoal, and a piece of his world crumbles, giving me peace.
The heavy cry of the fire truck siren grows louder, telling me I’ve run out of time. Even though ash falls like rain around me, blending me in with the night, it’s not enough. I need to disappear before they catch me here. Before they find out what I’ve done, and he discovers I’m still alive.
Stepping back into the shadows, I lift my hood, afraid my hair will draw too many unwanted eyes even in the dark. But as I lower my arms, the throbbing pain in my wrists registers. The gashes on each are now screaming for attention. Looking down, a ripple of awareness rockets through me.
No. God, no.
My gut twists on itself.
I’ve been so locked in this out-of-body daze, I hadn’t realized I’ve been leaving evidence of my escape all over the grass.
The siren wails in my eardrums saying, Go! Now! While there’s still time.
Sucking in a shaky breath, I pray I’ve given myself enough time to get out of the city, maybe even out of the state.
With one last look at the rising flames, I hitch my duffle over my shoulder, tuck my arms in close to my body, and walk away.
The warmth of the fire disappears and shivers race over my limbs as the cool, oceanic breeze rushes over me. For a moment, the air I breathe is filled with the scent of tropical flowers and salt water. But all too soon, it’s gone, replaced once again by the acidic smell of gas.
My heart feels heavy inside my chest as I say goodbye to the sunny place I’ve always called home. I’ll miss it. The beach, the bay, the hub of the city. The ocean and the sun on my skin. To think I may never return physically pains me.
How did it come to this? How did I slowly let him steal away everything important to me? My home? My family? My freedom?
I’ve asked myself a million times if I could have prevented this. Did I miss any warning signs early on? Hints that where I saw an angel, a monster lurked beneath.
There had to have been. However, I ignored or missed every single one.
Either way, it won’t happen again. I won’t be fooled by a pretty face and a gentlemanly facade a second time. And I sure as hell won’t allow anyone to control me like he did. For the rest of my days, however many there may be, I’ll have my freedom, if nothing else.
I won’t be locked up for one more second of my life.
Not. One. More. Second.
I may no longer be a saint, but at least I’m a survivor.
AUGUST 2008
The most dishonorable deed is taking advantage of another person’s desperation.