REDEMPTION
Copyright © 2015 Jessica Ashe
Redemption is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons or their likeness is entirely coincidental.
This book contains mature content, including graphic sex scenes and adult language. Please do not continue reading if you are under the age of 18 or if this content is likely to offend you.
All characters in the book are 18+ years of age, not blood related, and all sexual acts are consensual.
All Rights Reserved.
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Escape
Score
Redemption
Redemption tells the story of Oliver and Michelle. Oliver is English and therefore his chapters are written with British English spelling and idioms. Conversely, Michelle is American and therefore her chapters are written with American English spelling and idioms.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Mailing List
Books by Jessica Ashe
A Note on Language
Table of Contents
Part One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Interlude One
Part Two
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Interlude Two
Part Three
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Interlude Three
Part Four
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Epilogue
Reviews
Mailing List
Escape
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
About the Author
I made it twenty minutes into the game before a guy sat next to me in the stands and made a bad attempt at chatting me up.
“You come here often?” the man asked.
“No,” I lied. “I just stopped by because it looked like a good place to pick up men.”
Large sunglasses shielded my eyes, but he should still have picked up on the heavy notes of sarcasm in my voice. Apparently not. He looked clueless as to how to respond; with any luck he would just give up and go back to his friends.
I wasn’t in the mood for his type this afternoon. Today was my sister Maisie’s last rugby game of the season, and it coincided with the tortuous humidity that always swept through Northern Virginia in late April and lasted all the way through the summer.
I hated humidity and it hated me. I hadn’t moved a muscle the entire game, and yet sweat still dripped down my back at a ferocious pace. It didn’t help that I had to wear a sweater to keep the scar on my upper arm covered up.
“Do you want me to explain the rules of rugby?” the man asked. “It’s a complicated sport, but it’s a lot of fun when you know what’s going on.”
I’d been watching my sister play rugby for the last five years—I knew the rules better than most people at this point. The referee blew his whistle and awarded a scrum to my sister’s team.
“That was for a knock-on,” he said, oblivious to my silence and disinterest. “You’re not allowed to play the ball forward in rugby.”
“Actually, the referee awarded a penalty for an offside and the Chasers chose to take a scrum. The player came in from the side on the maul.”
“Oh,” he said, an embarrassed look appearing on his face. He now knew this might not be quite as easy as he first thought.
The scrum-half received the ball from the scrum and sent it out wide to the hooker, who then passed the ball sideways again to my sister. No matter how many times I’d watched her play, the hairs on the back of my neck still stood on end when she received the ball in these positions.
Maisie had a blistering pace, and she soon set off on one of her runs. Unfortunately, by this point in the game the opposition team knew how fast she could run, and that meant their one goal became taking her down.
My sister insisted on playing with the boys and didn’t want anyone to take it easy on her; the opposing team was only too happy to oblige.
I forced my eyes to stay open as one fourteen-year-old boy ran in from the side. He headed straight for her, but Maisie checked her run and easily sailed past him. She wasn’t so lucky with the second tackle.
A boy grabbed her around the waist and brought her down with him as they both went crashing to the floor. Maisie quickly turned on the ground and released the ball so as not to give away a foul.
“I don’t know why they let her play,” my admirer said. “She should play on a girl’s team.”
“There aren’t any girls’ teams,” I replied. “Besides, if she’s good enough then I don’t see why she shouldn’t play.”
“Just doesn’t seem right. I know if I was out there on the pitch, I wouldn’t be able to tackle a girl. It just doesn’t seem right.”
“How noble of you.”
My reluctance to get up and move was fast being overcome by this asshole’s mind-numbing conversation. Had I been this stupid and immature at nineteen? The five years between us felt like a lifetime right now.
“You want anything to drink?” he asked. “They don’t serve alcohol here unfortunately, but if you want a soft drink or something let me know.”
He wouldn’t be able to buy alcohol even if they did serve it. “Actually, I’m going to leave now.” I stood up and looked for another spot in the shade.
“Listen, how about we…” The second his hand touched my upper arm, I spun around, grabbed his wrist, and twisted him round by the arm. He let out a cry and everyone turned to stare at us.