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  BROKEN LOVE

  Tainted Love #2

  Copyright 2014

  Ghiselle St. James

  Cover Design by Kari Nappi

  LICENSE NOTE

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed, electronic or mechanical form, including photocopying or recording, or by information storage or retrieval system, without the expressed, written consent of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are purely the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental or is used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, music, and/or bands, referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  BROKEN LOVE BLURB

  The second in a three book series by Ghiselle St. James.

  This isn’t a perfect story. It’s gritty, dark, frustrating but beautiful. Love isn’t all hearts and flowers and bullshit declarations that are hollow and empty. If you love someone, you have to PROVE you’re worth they’re love. The road to happily ever after is paved with mistakes and horrible decisions…don’t hold mine against me.

  Sullivan:

  I have been captured by the only person I hate in this life; a person that I once foolishly loved. He is poison to me. Will I ever be free of him? Will I ever see Rachel again? Will I ever see my parents, my brother again? And Ben...will he ever know how I feel about him? So many wasted days I spent resisting him. A tear trickles down my face at that; because as I see Rick shaking that needle with a wicked gleam in his eye, I know this is the last time anyone will ever see me alive.

  Ben:

  I’ve worked very hard to maintain this control I have, but in just a few weeks Sullivan Beal came into my life and toppled my carefully constructed walls, and for a moment I didn’t care. Now that she is out of my life, I should be happy…but all I can do is think about her; how I miss her smile and how she made me feel free. I have to get her back. The love I have for her may not be perfect, but our relationship scarcely is. And that’s what makes it perfect. She may be tainted with demons from her past that she holds close to her chest, but I will free her from them; because as frustrating as my sweet girl is…I’m in this for the long haul. She might be broken, but I love her anyway.

  But one phone call…that dreaded phone call has me in a tailspin. Sullivan is kidnapped and it’s a race against time to find her before he hurts her…

  Or worse…

  This book contains explicit scenes of rape and drug use. For mature readers only.

  OTHER TITLES BY GHISELLE ST. JAMES

  South Row: A Comedic Romance

  Tainted Love (Tainted Love #1)

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  LICENSE NOTE

  BROKEN LOVE BLURB

  OTHER TITLES BY GHISELLE ST. JAMES

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  FOREWORD

  DEDICATION

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  PART TWO

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  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

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Chaos Theory

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  BROKEN LOVE PLAYLIST

  COMING SOON

  CONNECT WITH THE AUTHOR

  MORE BOOKS FROM THE AUTHOR

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Ghiselle St. James is a Jamaican author who has a never-ending love for written thoughts: poetry, song lyrics and non-fiction. She has been writing erotic novels since she was 13 years old which made her popular with the boys (hehe). Writing has been her outlet, as has singing, for most of her life, and will continue to be.

  I still hate talking about myself in the third person…

  Having graduated in 2010 from Jamaica Theological Seminary, with an honors’ degree in Social Work, the writer in me seemed to reawaken and has yet to go back to sleep.

  I completed my first novel in January of 2013 and had never felt so accomplished in my life.

  I write what’s in my heart. It’s hard to separate my heart from anything I write, and so characters that are real to me often come out. I pray my passion brings you as much joy as it has brought me.

  FOREWORD

  Broken Love picks up from where Tainted Love left off. It documents the changes that take place in both characters as a result of everything that happened. Some things might be hard to read at first, as some depictions get very graphic.

  There is rape and drug use mentioned, which could be triggers for some people, so please tread carefully.

  DEDICATION

  To Charlie,

  For being the wind in my sails.

  To the people out there who have been through hell and back, this book is for you.

  “Continue to fight and never stop swinging.”

  Ghiselle St. James

  Prologue

  My heart is thudding against my chest with every bump and dip in the road; thundering faster and locking my bones with fear, as every moment passes, like an electric charge.

  I’m being kidnapped; this is all that my brain registers over and over again. I can’t even believe that Ryan is part of this plan. How could I not have known? Why did I even stop being suspicious of him? He might have been Rachel’s love interest, but I should not have let my guard down around him. If I had kept on my toes about him, I would not have been here.

  Oh, what the fuck am I thinking? It’s Rick. I would have been here even if I’d known their plans from the onset. If Rick wants me, he’s going to have me. It’s inevitable. Much like when we first started dating. He was never my type: a spoiled brat who was always too pumped up and angry. He trampled his way into my life and wore me down…then he guaranteed my loyalty to him by keeping me drugged up. I can’t blame him for that. I was too weak to resist.

  The same feeling of self-loathing I’d felt while dating him washes through me once more and tears prick my eyes. He’s going to finish what he started. I can just imagine what all that will entail. Anxiety racks my body and I swear I’m going to pass out.

  Think, Delilah. Think.

  Rick hasn’t handcuffed my hands.

  Maybe I can reach into my pocket and dial the last number that called me, I think triumphantly. Yes! I can re-dial Rae’s numbe
r and get an idea of where we’re going so she can report it.

  Wait…no, he has a gun.

  Fear strikes through me that he just might use it. Heat rushes from my chest to my head and I feel like I’m on fire. I look out the window as we pass 17th street, trying to get an idea of where we are going. I muster up enough courage and make up my mind.

  It’s now or never.

  Reaching into my pocket as Rick converses with Ryan fucking Baylor, I press the call button three times and hope that Rachel answers.

  When I think she has, I say to Rick, “Where are you taking me?”

  “Now, if I told you that, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?” he sneers. He’s such a prick!

  “Why kidnap me, Rick? Why not just kill me?” That should get Rachel’s attention and get her in motion.

  “Killing you would be too easy, Delilah.” He draws closer to me. “I want to break you,” he answers slowly…menacingly.

  I shiver and will myself to keep the bile from rising in my throat. Oh, God.

  The hairs on my body stand and I wonder why. That only happens when Ben is near me. Ben…will I ever see him again? I curse inwardly. Why am I even thinking about Ben? Ben, who cares not one iota about me? My core tingles as a familiar pull causes heat to fill my belly and that is just with one thought of him. I absolutely need to focus. This is not the time to get turned on. I really don’t want Rick to think that all this is arousing me when I am almost ready to piss myself. Rick is scaring the shit out of me.

  “Tinted black SUV and big bodyguard,” I observe. “You’ve really put some thought into this haven’t you?” I say, trying to disguise the tremors in my voice and hoping that Rachel is writing down every piece of information I am dishing out.

  “You have no idea,” he answers, shooting me a wolfish grin.

  “It was you, wasn’t it?” I whisper. All I’m feeling is dread as I inhale choppily.

  “You ran us off the road that night.” I have to keep him talking, provide Rae with as much information as I can.

  He pauses for long moments, staring at me with malice then smiles. “You know it,” he confirms. “Your man’s lucky he left you when he did. He almost ruined my plans.”

  A chill runs down my spine at the thought of all he has planned, at the thought that he no doubt would have killed Ben if he stood in Rick’s way of getting to me. This is dangerous Rick, heartless Rick. He’s killed already and he will kill again. I have to get away from him.

  Oh God, Rae, please be on that line, I pray silently.

  I look around once more and notice we’re going eastbound on the Schuylkill Expressway. Everything looks fittingly dreary on this winter day. I fight the urge to cry. He won’t ever see me weak. Willing back the welling tears, I stare out at the trees that blur my vision as we speedily leave them behind, cars on either side of us not knowing what the hell is going on right next to them, and the Schuylkill River running ever so silently. Everything seems so very normal, betraying the tumult going on inside my psyche.

  I can’t help it. Thoughts of having Ben rescue me bombard me. Shaking off my ridiculous thoughts, I give myself the silent reminder that Ben is through with me. I need to accept that, the same way I need to accept that I may never see Philadelphia or my best friend or my family again.

  “Please, don’t do this,” I beg, a trickle of tears lining my face, blowing my plan of not showing fear to smithereens.

  Rick leans into me, his warm breath seeping into my nostrils like bad perfume. “I’m going to do this, Delilah, and with the right stimulus, you’ll love it.”

  He pulls out a small bag containing a white substance and a needle already filled. I know what it is and it terrifies me more than anything else I can think of at this moment.

  Heroin!

  “Rick, no,” I protest, tears now streaming down my face. “Kill me. I don’t want that stuff inside me.”

  “It’ll make everything better, baby. It’ll be just like old times. Give me your arm,” he demands as he reaches for my shaking hands.

  I panic, hitting him in the throat. He cries out in pain grabbing the targeted area. I scramble for the door and try to open it, but it’s locked. Hearing the commotion, Ryan swerves wildly, sending me tumbling backwards. I roll onto my side, crushing the phone to my thigh. Rising up, I try the power windows, but they just…won’t…budge. I scramble over the back seat and try to shove the rear glass open. I ram my shoulder in it with all my might and it creaks open. As I’m about to stick my hand through, I feel a sharp pain in my head as Rick grabs my hair and pulls tightly, pulling me away from my one saving grace. It’s almost as if he is ripping my hair from my scalp, it’s so painful!

  No!

  He drags me back over the seat like I’m weightless and he slaps me in the face. Despite the metallic taste of blood now filling my mouth, with all my courage, I scream, “Help!”

  That’s when I hear my phone ringing in my pocket. I know that ringtone; rather whose it is. Time seems to stop as I hear Drake’s voice telling me I’m the best he’s ever had. Ben is calling me? My heart lurches madly in my chest and like the play button hitting on a remote, I spring into action. Reaching inside my pocket quickly, I pull out my cell phone and answer it, only to have it pried from my hands.

  “You fucking, bitch!” Rick snarls, punching me in the face and hitting the gun to my right temple. I cry out, feeling the room spin as I fall back into the seat and then slide to the floor of the SUV.

  My vision is blurred for a moment, but I hear Rick rasp through the phone, “She’s mine now, lover boy.”

  My world tilts and spins as I struggle for consciousness, but the more I fight, the further it slips. No. My eyes bob closed repeatedly, consciousness slowly slipping away. Darker and darker my world becomes, then…nothing; vast amounts of nothingness surrounding me.

  Oh, Ben. He’s taking me away from you.

  Sullivan’s Rabbit Hole

  Ugh. Headache. I groan and a groggy sound is produced from the back of my throat. The pounding in my head grows and I reach for my head to rub the ache at my throbbing temple; but I can’t. I’m handcuffed, it seems.

  Finally, I peel my eyes painfully open and the glare from the hazy illumination outside forces them shut again, intensifying the pounding in my head.

  Handcuffed? What the fuck?

  Slowly, I open my eyes again, trying to adjust to the brightness. I know I’m on a bed and from the feel of it, it isn’t mine or Rachel’s. Where the hell am I and why am I handcuffed to this ratty-assed bed? Who did I go home with last night? Was I drugged again?

  At the thought of being drugged, exploding particles of panic overtake my body and I jerk my other hand, which is also handcuffed to this fucking bed.

  Damn it!

  I don’t remember going out last night and I’m trying to replay yesterday in my head, but everything seems so fuzzy. Looking around, I try to get clues as to where I am, clues as to what might have resulted in me being handcuffed to this strange bed.

  So, it’s not a hotel, that much I can say. Probably a motel or some ratty inn. The room is poorly furnished; only a bed, a TV stand with an ancient television on it, and a small table tucked in the corner next to, what I assume is, the bathroom door, exist as furnishing. Cream colored-walls, cream-colored carpets, a rusty heater near the door. Is that a stain in the carpet?

  Gross.

  I look down on the bed but my nakedness captures my vision. Oh. My. God! Was I raped?

  Oh please God, please God, I panic inwardly, squeezing my eyes shut then reopening them.

  My eyes travel down my body. Even my legs are cuffed.

  What the hell is going on?

  Tears pool in my eyes as confusion and dread sets in. Closing my eyes again, I try to concentrate. I don’t feel sore down there. Blowing out a breath of relief, I try to replay events that I don’t fucking remember. Argh!!!

  Various scenes pass through my mind’s eye: waking up, Rachel’s call, getting
dressed, leaving the apartment, forgetting money…Rick.

  I try to scream out, but it all comes out muffled. He’s taped my mouth up, too? Shit.

  Now I remember everything: him revoltingly kissing me and whisking me away into a black SUV that Ryan fucking Baylor was driving; him threatening me, me calling Rachel, the heroine – oh, God – and Ben calling me.

  Ben.

  I try to scream again, tears streaming down my face. Writhing in my binds, I feel the bite of the cuffs on my limbs. They will definitely leave a mark. Craning my neck to see my hands, I realize that if I try hard enough, I can drag my hands free. Not without some bruising though. Thank God for small hands!

  Knowing that I may have a slim window of escape, I start to pull on the handcuffs, twisting my wrist to try to get it loose. The cuff is cutting into my flesh, but I can’t think of the pain right now…and there is a lot of fucking pain. My freedom is at stake.

  Pulling harder and twisting maniacally, my hand begins to slip free. Blood is springing from the tear at my wrist, but…just a few more twists. A muffled cry escapes me as I wrench my hand hard and the cuff tears my skin deeper.

  Success! My right hand finally freed, blood gushing from it. The mangled skin around my wrist is enough to make me pass out. It throbs and burns like no pain I have ever felt before. I am single-minded in my focus, however, and with that determination, I try to free my other hand.

  Fear and adrenaline pumping in my veins have now completely dulled any pain as I frantically try to get free. With the blood dripping from my free hand, I use it to lubricate my left hand, creating moisture enough to hopefully get it through quicker than I did the other. Though the handcuff still bites through and tears the skin of my wrist, much less damaged than the other but damaged nonetheless, I am freed.