She escaped the cage of one serial killer, only to fall right into the arms of another…
Light From the Dark: Protecting What's Theirs
by R Sullins
Genre: Dark Romantic Suspense
She escaped the cage of one serial killer, only to fall right into the arms of another…
She
was everything they had been waiting for.
Brent and Ethan had been in a committed relationship since high school.
They were both dominant men and enjoyed testing each other’s limits,
But they each knew they longed to feel the softness of a woman.
But not any woman.
The perfect woman for them.
Casey
had been running for so long, and so far,
she didn’t even know where she was anymore.
Literally, she had no idea where her bus dropped her off.
All she knew was that she was tired, deep down in her bones.
She knew the small town seemed nice, and the owners of the diner were good people.
She also knew that the men she had caught a glimpse of made her heart beat faster—and if the rings they wore were any indication, they were both taken.
Brent
and Ethan needed to convince this frightened young woman to stay in
town long enough to give them a chance.
They knew she was running from something, and to them, it didn’t matter what that was. They were ready to protect her from anything.
But how would Casey feel when she found out one of her men had even more blood on his hands than the killer she was running from?
Please
know your triggers! All TW/CW are available on my website under the
book title
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Light From The Dark excerpts
#1
Dressing for the occasion
I could barely hold in my excitement. I was full of jittery nerves, scared out of my mind, but strangely excited for reasons I couldn’t explain even to myself.
Brent climbed into the cab of the truck next to me and pressed the button to start the engine. He put his hand on my bouncing thigh and began to drive away from the house, the path of the circular driveway lit by lights embedded along the sides. I was too wound up to take in the beauty of their landscaping tonight, though.
He gave my thigh a squeeze, then gave me the side eye. “Dollface, what the fuck are you wearing?”
I glanced down at my black yoga pants and the black t-shirt peeking out from under my black hoodie. I had my hair pulled back into a low ponytail and tucked under a black beanie. Unfortunately, all I had was the one pair of beat-up pink sneakers. I looked over at him, wearing pretty much what he did every day. He had on a pair of jeans that were worn and faded around his thick thighs and other stress points, looking like an expensive pair of jeans that someone would pay hundreds for.
“Ummm, blood?” Blood didn’t show on black, right? Wasn’t he afraid that his clothes would get ruined? How many pairs of jeans did he go through? I liked the way he looked in those jeans, and I hated the thought of having to throw them out.
“What?” He sounded like he was fighting back a laugh, so I huffed out a breath and crossed my arms. I turned my head to glare out the window. “Dollface?”
I sighed. “I thought killers would wear all black.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s cat burglars, baby.” His chuckle had me turning to glare at him, thankful the dark interior hid the pink in my cheeks.
#2
Escaping
When I tore my eyes from the knob, I dropped my hand to my side; the weight of the hammer wrenching at my shoulder. I pushed at the door with my free hand. It didn’t move. Dropping the hammer, I threw my whole body at the door in desperation. I didn’t realize I was screaming and crying as I repeatedly flung my entire body, bruising my shoulder and hip, until I heard a clunk, and the door swung open. I fell onto the floor in a heap, landing hard on my hands and knees. Then I lifted my head and stared at the wooden stairs in front of me.
I began to crawl up the stairs as tears blurred my vision. I didn’t notice the scrapes, the bruises, or the new splinters digging into my fingers. All I saw was the ordinary, everyday door that was in every house I had ever been in. I pulled myself up once I got to the top, twisted the knob to the simple wooden door, and then pushed.
I shielded my eyes from the bright light, blinking rapidly as I took in the modern kitchen. This looked like the home of a family of four who enjoyed spending time together at the kitchen table. It didn’t look like the home of a serial killer.
I stumbled across the room, leaving a bloody trail behind me, and through the living room, past a lovely leather couch and big screen TV hanging on the wall. I walked to the front door, turned the lock, and swung it open to see a row of similar houses lining the neighborhood.
I stumbled out the door and down the steps, breathing in the fresh air and listening to the birds chirping while a dog barked somewhere nearby.
When a woman driving by slammed on her brakes and jumped out of her car, I blinked, trying to tell her to call the police, but all that would come out of my throat was a whimper. I was completely done. All of my fight and determination to escape had drained what was left of my energy. My vision darkened as I watched her reach for her phone. When I heard her say she needed an ambulance and the police, I finally closed my eyes and crumpled to the pavement.
#3
Taking her home
She swung around to look at me, an incredulous look taking over the blank one I hated. “Why? Because I made a fool of myself in the grocery store! I need to get out of here before everyone realizes I’m a nut job.”
I couldn’t help my glare as I stalked over to her. I put my hand under her chin and gently forced her face up to look at me. “Don’t ever call yourself that again. Do you hear me, Casey? Everyone has moments of weakness. You obviously had something spook you and it shook you, badly. From what Dr. Tom said, you had been nervous for a while. Did you feel like you were being watched? Followed?”
I could feel her neck convulse as she swallowed hard. Her eyes got that glassy sheen again, and she stared up at me silently.
“Casey.” Brent’s growl came from beside us as he moved in closer. “Answer him.”
Her eyes went to him, then back to me swiftly. “I, uh. Yeah, I felt like I was being watched.” She jerked her head back and glared at us both. “But I don’t see what right you have to question me about it.”
Brent took another step closer. “We have the right dollface because we want to make sure our girl is safe.”
I cleared my throat before he could say anything else and reveal what our intentions were. We had to ease her into it slowly, not shove her head first while she was still raw from her emotional trauma. “We are worried. Look, we already discussed you coming to stay with us, and I think now would be a perfect time for you to come to our home. We can keep you safe. When you are ready, you can tell us all about what spooked you and why. But not until you’re ready. Okay, sugar?”
Her shoulders dropped, and her expression lost the look of defiance that she had been so bravely wielding. “I—” She looked off into the distance, and I can imagine she was weighing her options. Get back on the bus and keep running? Or come home with two strangers that offered her safety. I could see the moment she made her decision, and the tension that had been a ball inside me let go, allowing me to take my first relaxed breath since Dr. Tom’s phone call. “Okay.” She looked down at the floor, but instead of looking defeated, she looked relieved.
“Okay, what? I have to hear it, dollface.” Brent stepped forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with me.
She looked back up, a small smile playing around her beautiful lips, even as they trembled slightly. “Okay, I’ll become a guest in your home. I accept your offer.”
R. Sullins is a USA Today bestselling author, an International Bestseller, and a KDP All Star.
Family is number one in her life, followed by her menagerie of pets. Be patient with her, she’s not very good at peopling.
She is a lover of fairies, tattoos, and coffee cups, has a vast collection of them all, and receives a glare from her teenager every time she brings home a new cup to squeeze into the cabinet.
When she’s not writing, you will probably be able to find her reading a book. But, no matter what genre you find her immersed in, there is always one thing that her favorite stories have in common…you will never, ever find her reading any book with cheating. So rest assured! She will never write one, either.
A bit of drama, a dash of spice, a little bit of innocence, and a large dab of alpha is what makes up the recipe for her stories. Find more of her here: www.rsullins.com
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The excerpt sounds really good. I love a good romantic suspense.
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