Ruined. Tortured. Broken.
What could have been the perfect childhood, turned into a hell that the devil himself would shy away from. I was forced to deal with an evil that would make the darkest of souls cringe.
Lily Noel was scarred but beautiful. She was perfectly flawed and everything that I needed.
Attraction bordered on obsession.
Passion bordered on ecstasy.
Addiction bordered on insanity.
Nothing could get in the way of our love.
Continue reading for an excerpt from Broken Scars, a brand new standalone by yours truly!
Broken Scars – ©JM Walker
(unedited and subject to change)
Searing agony ripped through me. My muscles shredded from my bones. Flesh ripped free, tearing and separating as the abuse only worsened.
It felt like I was being torn up by an animal.
My limbs trembled. My skin became damp with sweat.
I tried forcing the evil away, but it only made them hurt me more.
Blue eyes stared back at me. They were filled with pain, pity, fear. So much damn fear.
I looked away as the screams shattered through me. As much as I did everything I could to fight off my attacker, my begging only heightened the violence laid upon my body.
“Please.” My voice, so young, so innocent. One word was all it took. One syllable was all that was needed to make the pain worsen. I wasn’t sure how that was even possible, but it was, and it happened.
A sob left me as the new attack was bestowed on my body. What felt like a lifetime later, the heavy weight on top of me lifted, taking all of my breath with it.
“You did well, Lucas.”
I turned my head away from the voice. Tears no longer fell down my cheeks. My body no longer hurt. I was numb. Completely and utterly numb.
My mind was broken. I was gone. Far past the point of shattered. My soul, if I even had one anymore, hid and shied away in the corners. The Devil himself would look away at this depravity.
Gentle hands roamed over my body, soothing the ache that had been permanently etched into my soul. Salve was rubbed into my skin. My cuts were bandaged. I was cleaned, fed and put back in my cage like the rest of them.
Animals. Pets. That’s what we were. All because our foster parents had an addiction. For hunger. Power. Money. Control. It was all about control. Over people smaller than them. One slap was all it took to force most to their knees. But me? No, I was bigger. It took a lot more than a slap to force me to submit. And I paid for it. I always paid for it.
I vowed from that point on that I would do whatever I could to rid the world of monsters like them.
Even if I died trying.
Add to your TBR: Coming 2019
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