From the author of Ricochet and Backfire comes a dark erotic suspense serial ...
Episode Four: With every cause, there’s an effect, and Ripley will do everything in his power to keep Dylan safe. To hell with the consequences.
Series Synopsis:
Ripley
They call me RIP.
I’m a killer. A murderer. A psychopath.
In the eyes of the righteous, I’m a monster, born of sin and depravity.
I want to protect her, but I’m not a good man.
I want to love her, but I no longer feel.
She gets under my skin, though, and has awakened something inside of me.
Something I’d kill for.
I’m not her savior—not even close. In fact, I’m worse than the hell she’s already suffered.
I’m her vengeance. Tit for tat, as they say.
And if she’s not careful, I’ll be her ruin.
Dylan
For months, I’ve watched him.
I’ve fantasized him as my savior, my lover. My ticket out of the hell I’ve lived in for the last six years.
I never dreamed he’d be my nightmare.
Had I known what he really is, I’d have never gotten in the car that night, but life is full of cause and effect.
And sometimes the choice on offer isn’t a choice at all.
It’s the result of something already in motion, and we’re merely left to survive the ripple effect.
*This is an erotic suspense/erotic romance not recommended for readers under the age of 18 due to graphic violence and sex
Episode Four: With every cause, there’s an effect, and Ripley will do everything in his power to keep Dylan safe. To hell with the consequences.
Series Synopsis:
Ripley
They call me RIP.
I’m a killer. A murderer. A psychopath.
In the eyes of the righteous, I’m a monster, born of sin and depravity.
I want to protect her, but I’m not a good man.
I want to love her, but I no longer feel.
She gets under my skin, though, and has awakened something inside of me.
Something I’d kill for.
I’m not her savior—not even close. In fact, I’m worse than the hell she’s already suffered.
I’m her vengeance. Tit for tat, as they say.
And if she’s not careful, I’ll be her ruin.
Dylan
For months, I’ve watched him.
I’ve fantasized him as my savior, my lover. My ticket out of the hell I’ve lived in for the last six years.
I never dreamed he’d be my nightmare.
Had I known what he really is, I’d have never gotten in the car that night, but life is full of cause and effect.
And sometimes the choice on offer isn’t a choice at all.
It’s the result of something already in motion, and we’re merely left to survive the ripple effect.
*This is an erotic suspense/erotic romance not recommended for readers under the age of 18 due to graphic violence and sex
Dylan
Pressure and a nip of my skin recoils my muscles. A pinprick at my left arm tells me Randy’s shoved a needle into my veins, and the warmth that floods every muscle in my body, like a fireplace at Christmastime, has me clinging to my reality. It’s nauseating and soothing, curling my toes at the same time I want to throw up. Please. I don’t want to pass out. Not while Rook’s holding those pliers. My stomach twists and gurgles.
“Just a little cocktail I put together for you, my sweet girl.” Randy’s voice fades in and out and he strokes my hair, only adding to the wave of comfort sweeping over me. “It took twelve stitches to close that stab to my ribs. So I’m going to give you twelve stitches … somewhere.”
“No.” My voice is weak and slipping with every second.
“Tell me you love me, Dylan.” His lips are at my ear, the crackle of his whisper growing distant. “I can make this all go away. Tell me you want me. Only me.”
I roll my head against the dirty mattress they’d lain me on and moan a protest that doesn’t matter. No one will hear me.
The moment footfalls diminish across the room, Randy’s at my ear again. “I’ll kill him.” He speaks so softly I can hardly hear him, even as close as he is. “For you. Just tell me you want me.”
Nails scrape my inner walls, and when the heel of a hand presses against my pubic bone, fingers curve up into me—a sensation that begins to fade as the drugs take hold.
“I’ll wait. You’re gonna love this shit, Dylan.” Randy’s voice is distant, floating all around me. “I fucking need to get inside you, baby girl. Need it so bad. I should’ve done this a long time ago. You ran, though. From me.” A crack to my face hardly registers as the drugs start to kick in, and he strikes me again. Same place, but I’m numb, drifting from my body into a disconnected space, away from all of this. The same place I used to hide when my mother fucked her Johns in front of me, or when Randy took pictures in that dirty laundry room. “You’ll never run from me again.”
A scream hammers against my skull—it’s a loud, screechy, painful sound as if someone has reached down into the depths and pulled out a soul. Is it me? Am I screaming for my life and I’m just so gone, I don’t recognize my own pain? Has he already begun to use those pliers on me?
I don’t notice the pressure against my thighs as it was before when Randy’s voice breezed my ear.
The blackness lifts, and I’m staring into dark, angry eyes—one blue, one hazel.
If I happened to be sober, the sight of him would have me crawling out of my skin as enraged as he looks with his lip peeled back in a snarl. My head feels as if it moves in slow motion, as I look around for Rook and Randy. They’re nowhere in sight. Am I dreaming? Is this all a nightmare? Will I wake to Rip’s pissed off face staring back at me? There’s an element of fear and relief in that thought.
I didn’t take any pills, did I? No, I could swear I didn’t take any pills.
The blackness tugs at me, begging me to swim in its void. Yes. Take me.
Ripley stands up from me, shoving a cigarette into his mouth, and plucks his fingers along his blade.
Will he kill me? Will all three of them torture me?
I don’t even care. Somewhere in the darkness, there’s safety. Quiet. So I let it steal me away.
Pressure and a nip of my skin recoils my muscles. A pinprick at my left arm tells me Randy’s shoved a needle into my veins, and the warmth that floods every muscle in my body, like a fireplace at Christmastime, has me clinging to my reality. It’s nauseating and soothing, curling my toes at the same time I want to throw up. Please. I don’t want to pass out. Not while Rook’s holding those pliers. My stomach twists and gurgles.
“Just a little cocktail I put together for you, my sweet girl.” Randy’s voice fades in and out and he strokes my hair, only adding to the wave of comfort sweeping over me. “It took twelve stitches to close that stab to my ribs. So I’m going to give you twelve stitches … somewhere.”
“No.” My voice is weak and slipping with every second.
“Tell me you love me, Dylan.” His lips are at my ear, the crackle of his whisper growing distant. “I can make this all go away. Tell me you want me. Only me.”
I roll my head against the dirty mattress they’d lain me on and moan a protest that doesn’t matter. No one will hear me.
The moment footfalls diminish across the room, Randy’s at my ear again. “I’ll kill him.” He speaks so softly I can hardly hear him, even as close as he is. “For you. Just tell me you want me.”
Nails scrape my inner walls, and when the heel of a hand presses against my pubic bone, fingers curve up into me—a sensation that begins to fade as the drugs take hold.
“I’ll wait. You’re gonna love this shit, Dylan.” Randy’s voice is distant, floating all around me. “I fucking need to get inside you, baby girl. Need it so bad. I should’ve done this a long time ago. You ran, though. From me.” A crack to my face hardly registers as the drugs start to kick in, and he strikes me again. Same place, but I’m numb, drifting from my body into a disconnected space, away from all of this. The same place I used to hide when my mother fucked her Johns in front of me, or when Randy took pictures in that dirty laundry room. “You’ll never run from me again.”
A scream hammers against my skull—it’s a loud, screechy, painful sound as if someone has reached down into the depths and pulled out a soul. Is it me? Am I screaming for my life and I’m just so gone, I don’t recognize my own pain? Has he already begun to use those pliers on me?
I don’t notice the pressure against my thighs as it was before when Randy’s voice breezed my ear.
The blackness lifts, and I’m staring into dark, angry eyes—one blue, one hazel.
If I happened to be sober, the sight of him would have me crawling out of my skin as enraged as he looks with his lip peeled back in a snarl. My head feels as if it moves in slow motion, as I look around for Rook and Randy. They’re nowhere in sight. Am I dreaming? Is this all a nightmare? Will I wake to Rip’s pissed off face staring back at me? There’s an element of fear and relief in that thought.
I didn’t take any pills, did I? No, I could swear I didn’t take any pills.
The blackness tugs at me, begging me to swim in its void. Yes. Take me.
Ripley stands up from me, shoving a cigarette into his mouth, and plucks his fingers along his blade.
Will he kill me? Will all three of them torture me?
I don’t even care. Somewhere in the darkness, there’s safety. Quiet. So I let it steal me away.
REVIEW
Review by: Jennifer
(3.75 Stars)
This is number four in this novella series, you HAVE to, as in MUST, read the previous three books, as they are all connected and one starts where the last leaves off. At the end of book three, Dylan is hiding in a diner after having spotted Rook sitting in her seat at the table with Rip and now her brain is going in all different directions, was this all a set up? Is Rip handing her over? Was everything between her and Rip fake? Not surprisingly, Dylan runs and escapes out of the bathroom window, straight into the arms of Rook.
When Rip realizes she is gone, he is slowly putting together the pieces of the puzzle, and having figured out that Enzo (Rook) is the one that has Dylan, now its just a matter of finding her in time. When everything is said and done and Rip is giving the order to kill Dylan, will he?
Being a short story, this is really fast paced and it was an ok end to this series. I wish that we could have seen a bit more of Dylan and Rip after everything and when they were on their way to their version of HEA. Seems like there was some stuff just sort of, forgotten about or just glossed over. I give this 3.75 stars.
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Keri Lake is a married mother of two living in Michigan. By day, she tries to make use of the degrees she's earned in science. By night, she writes dark contemporary, paranormal romance and urban fantasy. Though novels tend to be her focus, she also writes short stories and flash fiction on the many occasions distraction sucks her into the Land of Shiny Things.
For news, updates and sneak peeks at the sexy cover model candidates for her annual Cover Model Contest, subscribe to her newsletter: http://eepurl.com/HJPHH
For news, updates and sneak peeks at the sexy cover model candidates for her annual Cover Model Contest, subscribe to her newsletter: http://eepurl.com/HJPHH
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