Bloodstained Beauty Read online

  Copyright © 2018 by Ella Fields

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, copied, resold or distributed in any form, or by any electronic or mechanical means, without permission in writing from the author, except for brief quotations within a review.

  This book is a work of fiction.

  Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Editor: Jenny Sims, Editing4Indies

  Proofreading: Allison Riley

  Formatting: Stacey Blake, Champagne Book Design

  Cover designer: Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations

  Cover model: Anthony Kemper

  Photography: Regina Wamba

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Epigraph

  Dedication

  Flash Forward

  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

  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

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Also by Ella Fields

  About the Author

  Connect with Ella

  Acknowledgements

  Be unhurried in giving your heart

  For there is always another counterpart

  For those who still believe in fairy tales.

  The cool breeze kissed my cheeks and unfurled my hair but did nothing to dry the stinging pools of fear that had welled in my eyes.

  Shining bright, but not bright enough, the half-moon mocked me from where it sat pressed into the deep, dark sky. Even the stars had abandoned me, winking out of sight the moment I plunged into the dense woods.

  Perhaps that was my own fault for stepping into the cover of trees. But I’d like to think when running for one’s life, the obvious thing to do wouldn’t be to hide in plain sight. Better to make it harder for them, even if it made it harder for me at the same time.

  The obvious thing.

  I choked back a wet snort.

  How many fucking things had been obvious since day one? Since the moment these monsters waltzed into my life?

  I’d been oblivious. I’d been too trusting. I’d been a fool.

  I’d been in love.

  Well, love did you no good when your heart, that fucking traitor, was pounding at an ungodly speed as you tried to outrun certain death or worse.

  Adrenaline spiked my pulse higher, made my feet move faster, and spread my thoughts wider.

  Don’t you dare give up on me now, you asshole. You got us into this mess, and I’ll be damned if you give out before we’ve seen the sun rise one more time.

  Time.

  I couldn’t remember anything past my visit to the local grocer. It all became a blur, a cacophony of vague memories. Tires skidding, screams, grunts, and cursing filled the air and then … quiet.

  Nothing but me and the sound of my feet snapping twigs and scuffing over rocks, and my labored breathing.

  Then another sound.

  His voice echoed through the trees as though he had all the time in the world. As though he was walking languidly, strolling lazily behind me, uncaring of the fact I could get away. “You may as well stop, Jemima. We both know it’s useless.”

  I would’ve scoffed if I didn’t have better things to do.

  If I wasn’t so fucking petrified.

  Too busy tossing a glance into the gloom behind me, I tripped over a fallen, hollowed out tree trunk.

  No, I screamed to myself. This wouldn’t be how it ended.

  My ankle panged in protest as I forced myself onto my hands and knees. The sound of leaves and twigs crunching filtered into my panicked brain, and my stomach heaved.

  Before I could stand, a hand wrapped around my elbow, wrenching me from the damp, mildew-scented earth.

  I acted on instinct, my knee rising to his crotch as I spun, then I stumbled away when his hand fell loose.

  Again, I ran.

  I ran, ignoring the pain in my ankle and the fear that had me wanting to bang my head against one of the blurring trees to wake up from this nightmare.

  I ran from the pain in my heart.

  I ignored it all and managed to smile when I saw the headlights of a lone car through the curtain of trees and foliage.

  I could make it. I could run along the road until someone passed. Never mind it was late and we lived on the fringes of society, it would happen eventually.

  Air escaped me in a rush. A scream tore itself from my lungs, echoing into the silence as a sharp bite penetrated my skin.

  “Fuck,” I whimpered, slowing and reaching around to pluck what looked like a dart from the back of my arm. With my heart trembling, I staggered back into a tree as warmth spread from the stinging prick and oozed into every limb of my body.

  Losing control of my legs, I fell to my ass. Hard. Yet I couldn’t feel it. I couldn’t feel a thing as I stared up at the sky and searched for the moon through the giant treetops, for one last source of light.

  I found it, clung to it as my breathing slowed and my vision frayed.

  “I told you it was useless.”

  The moon disappeared, his calm words following me into the dark.

  Eight months ago

  It didn’t seem right that even with the boxes, bed, dresser, entertainment unit, TV, and an old couch, my apartment still looked bare.

  Though coming from a house filled to the brim and threatening to overflow with memories, it was bound to.

  “Are you sure about this?” my dad asked, his voice gruff as he stacked a large box on top of another by the door. “It’s not too late to change your mind and come back home.”

  Tempting. It was so damn tempting.

  My excitement since getting the callback for my first ever teaching position was fading fast. Spending the previous month apartment hunting and shopping for cheap necessities had helped battle the nerves. Nerves that were now curling sharp talons into my chest and threatening to make my voice shake as I said, “It’s time, Daddy.”

  Dad’s nose scrunched in that way it did when he thought I’d said something ridiculous.

  “Besides,” I continued as I waded over the scuffed wooden flooring to the window and parted the dust-marked checkered curtains, “it could be worse. I could’ve been accepted for the three jobs I’d applied for out of state or that last one in Tennille, which would mean a three-hour drive.” I fought the urge to sneeze as my hand sti
rred dust while gliding over the white painted windowsill. Turning to Dad, I wiped my palm on my jeans. “As opposed to twenty minutes.” I quirked a brow.

  He waved a hand, marching over to inspect the smoke alarm with narrowed brown eyes, much like my own. “I’m just saying that living in the real world is tough, baby girl. I wouldn’t judge you if you changed your mind.”

  Smiling, I left him to his inspections and went to grab the last two suitcases from the stairwell that led out to the busy street below. The apartment was open plan, but thankfully, it had a bedroom. The fact it was situated above a twenty-four-hour drugstore made me pause, but I’d tried to look at the positive side. Easy, quick access if I ever ran out of toiletries and it would be handy if I got sick, which was likely seeing as I was about to start teaching first graders.

  I tried not to think about that.

  Positives. I needed all the positives, or else the emotions that made my hands clammy around the suitcase handles might just get the better of me.

  I was close to home, I reminded myself. So close, I really could be there in twenty minutes.

  Our home sat nestled on the other side of the river that divided the concrete and suburban from the trees and wildlife. Glenning was a small, rural area often bypassed due to its size and dirt roads, but it owned a huge piece of my heart. That I got to work and start my venture into full-blown adulthood within reach of home was a dream, really.

  Ugh. The way I was finding reasons to reassure myself grated.

  I thought graduating college and landing a job my first year out meant I’d automatically mature into the woman I saw myself as in my mind.

  Strong, fearless, capable.

  You are, I tried to remind myself. You can fire a gun, milk a cow, read five novels a week, juggle a part-time job while studying, and ace your finals with one hour of sleep.

  All were true.

  Confidence snuffed out the fear at the reminder, and with it, that familiar excitement returned.

  I dumped the suitcases in the middle of my tiny apartment and planted my hands on my hips as I released a huge breath. Who knew what this adventure would bring? The thought thrilled as much as it terrified.

  The sun had shone all morning, so I’d slipped on my new cream gauzy dress.

  It had ruffles spilling over the neckline, stopping beneath my breasts. Elegant, understated when paired with my favorite black flats, and professional.

  It was my second week working at Lilyglade Prep, which was a little more esteemed than I’d have guessed before the interview process. Nevertheless, I was thankful for being forewarned. Jeans, a T-shirt, nice cardigan, and Chucks wouldn’t cut it.

  They paid well, so shopping for a new work wardrobe didn’t hurt too much.

  My new dress fluttered around my knees as I stepped out from the stairwell of my apartment and onto the street. As I was stuffing my keys and phone into my bag, someone bumped into me, and I grumbled beneath my breath, “Rude.”

  Rain had started to fall, and I cursed my decision to park behind my apartment building rather than wait for a vacant spot in front of it the day before. I turned, thinking I’d run back inside to fetch my umbrella.

  My heart jumped, and I stopped.

  It couldn’t be…

  Deciding to forgo the umbrella, I looked forward again, shaking away the absurdness. But another glance over my shoulder as I was about to turn the corner at the end of the street said my first crazy assumption was correct.

  A sexy madman was chasing me down the street.

  Clearly, this living away from home and becoming a full-fledged adult thing was off to a climactic start.

  Okay, so he wasn’t chasing me. He was walking. Kind of fast. And he definitely wasn’t a madman, I realized as he gently tapped my elbow outside the bakery to get my attention.

  “Hey, you dropped this.” In his ginormous hand sat my phone.

  Hesitantly and without meeting his gaze, I reached out and took it, slipping it into my bag. “Thanks. I didn’t even know I’d dropped it.”

  Those big hands sank deep into green cargo pockets, and his large chest barely moved as he shrugged. “Lucky I saw then. I’m Miles.”

  “Okay, hi Miles.”

  “And your name?”

  “Um.” Nerves tinged my laugh, my eyes daring to creep up his chest to his face. “Jemima.”

  “Jemima,” he repeated, trying it on with a smile. “Well, Jemima, I’m sorry if I spooked you.” His voice was deep and held a roughness that felt like sandpaper brushing over my arms.

  “That’s okay. And uh, thank you,” I repeated, my eyes stuck on his chin. A chin that was covered in thick, dark stubble. Stubble that peppered his rugged jawline and wrapped around a set of decadently plump lips.

  “You said that already.” He laughed, and the bell over the door to the bakery chimed, prompting him to grasp my shoulders and gently urge me to the side for someone to pass.

  Droplets of rain splattered onto my cheeks and chin, courtesy of being moved beneath a gap in the awning. I swiped at my face. “Sorry. I find it hard to communicate like an intelligent human being before my morning caffeine consumption.” My eyes widened after that little bit of verbal vomit.

  God, shit.

  He chuckled good naturedly, and I tucked some hair behind my ear as I finally met his gaze.

  Eyes like honey stared back at me; a golden brown so rich, they almost glowed. Dark lashes that matched his thick, unruly dark hair fanned over them as he blinked down at me, then licked his lips. “Well, this is kind of awkward. I’ll just—”

  “No,” I blurted, then cringed, wanting to back into the bakery behind me and disappear. “I should get going before I’m late.” I smiled and shifted on my feet. “New job, can’t be late.”

  Fucking hell. Shut your trap, woman.

  When I chanced another peek at his face, his eyes were smiling, his teeth flashing. He was all predator, and I felt like a timid little mouse. “Congrats. And I hope you don’t mind, but I, well …” He rubbed behind his head, seeming unsure all of a sudden, which I already knew was a rarity for this man. “I kind of, maybe, called myself on your phone.”

  “Kind of, maybe?” Breath lodged in my throat as I stepped back into the brick wall.

  He nodded, lips pinching.

  My stomach flooded with flutters. “Why?”

  Another devastating grin. “Because you and me, we’re having dinner.”

  I watched as his eyes dropped to my chest—later realizing my beautiful dress was see-through when wet—snared in a web of confused exhilaration as he turned and went back the way he’d come.

  I wasn’t that girl. The one who thought she wasn’t good enough and plagued by insecurities. But this guy, Miles, he had to be thirty. At least. He held an air of maturity sprinkled with mischief while I’d only just started paying off my student loans.

  And there was no way I wasn’t going to dinner with him.

  Seven months ago

  Lightning streaked across the sky, and thunder had us both jumping and laughing in the seats of Miles’s truck as we shoved the last of our cheeseburgers into our mouths.

  We’d made a habit of frequenting McDonalds for most of our dates, even if that meant sitting beneath a storm dark sky as rain pelted the truck roof and cascaded down the windshield in tiny rushing rivers.

  If someone had told me that I, some small-town girl with medium sized dreams, would be sitting in a strange guy’s truck three times a week, a guy who was at least ten years my senior, I would have laughed and said I knew better than that.

  But he wasn’t a stranger or just some guy. Talking to Miles, even just sitting with Miles, was like being with a friend you’d known all your life but had been separated from for years. And now, we were simply catching up.

  “First time was outside on a park bench.”

  “Too impatient to find a bed?” I prodded.

  His top lip tilted, and I wanted to bite it. “More like there were no better places
. I was sixteen, and so was she.” He paused, his gaze moving outside the truck window for a beat. “We couldn’t exactly do it under our parents’ noses. They weren’t the type to let us get away with that. So, park bench it was.”

  I laughed, shaking my head.

  “What?” he asked, reaching over to poke my cheek. “Never been that adventurous?”

  I took a sip of soda, then stuck the cup back into the cup holder. “Nope, beds only.”

  Miles was quiet as his eyes dragged over my face. “How many times?”

  Shocked by his bluntness, I laughed again. “Well, lots. Mainly with my high school boyfriend.”

  His brows furrowed. “You still talk to him? What happened?”

  “He went to college out of state, and we eventually broke up when we realized it wasn’t going to work out.”

  Miles forced a pout, and I reached over to slap his upper arm but only hurt myself. “Ouch.” I rubbed my fingers, and he took them and kissed them. “Are you eating cement for breakfast?”

  His laughter sprang sharp and sudden, filling the truck with its rough, loud volume. He had a nice laugh; the kind that said he did it often and unrestrained.

  Taking my fingers back, I finished answering his question, “We don’t talk anymore. I had another boyfriend in college, but it only lasted a few months. That’s it.”

  Miles nodded. “So you’ve always wanted to teach?”

  “That or own my own bookstore.”

  His lips quirked, his finger rubbing his brow. “I could see that.”

  “One day, maybe. What about you? Did you always want to mow people’s lawns?” I waggled my brows.

  He chuckled. “That’s not all I do, you know.” At my shrug, he continued, “Actually … when I was a kid, I wanted to be a cop.”

  “Yeah?” I said, unable to see that with the easygoing, tatted up giant sitting next to me. “What stopped you?”

  His phone rang, and he fished it out of the center console to inspect the screen, then shut it off.

  “You can take it.” I gestured to the phone he’d tucked into the driver’s side door.