Big Box Of New Adult Romance Read online

  “How did you know where I was?”

  “Lucky for you, your friends really care about you. Alicia told me you got a waitressing job out here, and it didn’t exactly take a genius to track you down.”

  “Why would you track me down? Obviously I left for a reason.”

  He cocked his head as if it had never occurred to him that she was trying to get away from him specifically. “Because I couldn’t figure out why you just stopped responding to me. I thought we were together. I thought there was really something between us.”

  She looked around, but the hallway was empty. She thought about screaming, but didn’t know what she’d say if people came running to help.

  Say that he raped you.

  No, she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t open that can of worms. She’d run to Florida to avoid this very moment, and here it was, happening anyway.

  “I need to get back to work,” she said, trying to walk by him.

  Jayson blocked her path. He was a very large guy. He wasn’t as cut and muscular as Elijah, but he was bulkier and taller. And he was much, much stronger than her—she knew that already. “Come on, I flew all the way out here to see you. Doesn’t that get me some brownie points?” he chuckled.

  “I can’t do this right now.”

  His smile disappeared and he reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Listen,” he told her, his voice dropping to a lower register. “I want you to come home with me.” His hand tightened. “I like you. And I want you in Boston with me.”

  “I don’t want to go anywhere with you,” she said, finally meeting his gaze.

  But his eyes were the same as the other night—there was nothing in them but coldness and blackness. “I get what I want,” he said. “I think you saw that firsthand, didn’t you?”

  “Fuck off.”

  His hand tightened, and now her wrist hurt. There was a searing pain. “Listen, I can make things worse than you could ever imagine if you try and mess with me,” he told her. “Don’t go down this road, baby. I’m warning you.”

  “Caelyn?”

  The voice that called out was from behind them. Jayson turned around and looked at the person. “Who are you?” Jayson said.

  And that’s when Caelyn saw who had spoken. Relief flooded her instantly. Elijah was standing there, as if he’d somehow known that she needed him right at this moment, as if he’d heard her and come running. His expression was strangely calm. “I’m a friend of Caelyn’s,” he said simply. “Who are you?”

  “Oh, that’s funny—you’re her friend. Well, she’s my girlfriend.”

  “You must be Jayson,” Elijah smiled. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” He walked towards them casually.

  “Good things, I hope?” Jayson turned and looked at her with his dead eyes.

  Suddenly, Elijah sprang forward. Within fractions of a second, he’d grabbed Jayson by his shirt and thrown him into the wall. Jayson’s head collided with a vicious thud, and as he came bouncing off, Elijah hit him in the belly with a hard punch, doubling him over.

  Caelyn let out a startled yell.

  Elijah was like a man possessed. He smashed Jayson in the face with a series of uppercuts and then, when Jayson fell to the floor, he jumped on top of him and started punching him over and over again.

  There was blood everywhere. So much blood, Caelyn had never seen anything like it. She tried to drag Elijah off.

  A group of people had formed in the hallway, but they were too frightened of the violence to step in.

  “Stop,” Caelyn cried. “That’s enough. Please, Elijah.”

  Finally, Elijah got up. Then he looked at her. “I’ll never let anybody hurt you again. I told you that,” he said.

  She nodded, unable to even speak after what had just happened.

  Moments later, two policemen were pushing through the crowd. One of them immediately grabbed Elijah while the other knelt down to check Jayson, who was moaning and kicking his legs slowly, trying to get up.

  “Stay down, we need to check you over,” the cop said.

  Elijah was being arrested.

  “Put your hands behind your back, son,” the cop told him. Elijah complied obediently. He looked at Caelyn and sort of shrugged, as if to say, what can you do?

  The cop on the ground grabbed the radio off his lapel. “We need an ambulance at Mean Margaritas. Repeat, we need an ambulance as soon as possible, over.”

  Caelyn stumbled out of the way, as they led Elijah out of the restaurant in handcuffs.

  ***

  Hours later, she was sitting in the police station. She’d already given a verbal report to three or four different officers. She’d had to tell them the truth—that she’d been raped by Jayson and that Elijah knew about it.

  She explained that Elijah had been defending her, thinking she was in danger when he saw Jayson cornering her in the restaurant. And in fact, she had felt threatened by Jayson at the time.

  What was going to come of her statements, she didn’t know.

  She was sitting in a small room, feeling like she was guilty of something. She’d been waiting for over an hour when one of the detectives she’d spoken with knocked and came back inside the room.

  “Are you okay? Do you need some water?” he asked.

  “I’m okay,” she said. “I just want to go home.”

  “And where is home?”

  She didn’t answer. “I’m not sure right now.”

  The detective sat down. “How well do you know Elijah?” he asked.

  She thought about it. “I guess not very well.”

  “He’s been traveling under a fake identity,” he said. “Calling himself Jake Daniels, which is actually his brother’s name. Were you aware of that?”

  She shook her head almost imperceptibly. She had known a part of that story, just not all of it.

  “And were you aware that he’s been incarcerated previously?”

  “No,” she said, her insides feeling as though they were filling with ice water.

  “Well, he has been. A few times, starting at a very young age. This last time, he went to jail for over a year for grand larceny. Leaving Massachusetts, he is also now in violation of his parole.”

  “I didn’t know any of that. All I know is that he picked me up when my car was broken down, and he drove me to Florida. He never hurt me or did anything inappropriate.”

  “Until he beat that man a few hours ago,” the detective said.

  She looked down at the table. “That’s right.”

  “Well, you’re free to go, ma’am. You haven’t done anything wrong, that I can see.

  We’ve alerted the Boston police about your claims against Jayson Reynolds, and you can take the matter up with them if and when you return.”

  “Okay,” she said. “And what about Elijah?”

  The detective glared at her, his eyes narrowing. “You’re very concerned about him, I see.” He breathed out heavily through his nostrils and flipped open his manila folder.

  “As of tomorrow, he’ll be shipped back to Massachusetts to deal with his parole violation, and likely they’ll handle the charges against Mister Reynolds as well.”

  “Thank you for telling me,” she said.

  “Mister Reynolds, just so you know, has been released from the hospital already, having sustained only superficial injuries. As far as I know, he’s now returning to Boston as well.”

  Caelyn’s mouth was dry and she was shaking. “I understand,” she whispered.

  “Good luck, ma’am,” he said, rising from his chair and opening the door for her to leave.

  When she left the police station, there was nobody waiting for her. Nowhere to go.

  Although, she remembered she still had her room at the Seaside Motel. She would have to stay there tonight, as she certainly wasn’t going to be welcome at Kenzie’s home after what had happened at the restaurant.

  And then what? Caelyn thought.

  They were bringing Elijah back to Massachusetts because o
f what he’d done to protect her.

  And she realized that she wanted to be there for Elijah. Whatever that meant.

  There was only one way to get home. She had no money for a flight. She had no options left.

  Without bothering to debate it internally, Caelyn pulled out her cell phone and dialed the one number she didn’t want to dial.

  “Hello, Mom?” she said into the phone. “It’s me. I have something I need to tell you.”

  THE END OF BOOK 1 OF NAKED

  Dangerously Damaged (Addicted to You,

  Book One)

  By Lucy Covington

  © 2013. All Rights Reserved.

  LINDSAY

  I’d worked ridiculously hard to get into Cambridge University, and so when the guy handing out the orientation packets told me he couldn’t find mine, I had a moment of panic.

  “Are you sure?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “Can you look again?

  Lindsay Cramer?”

  The boy who’d been assigned the duty of handing out packets began thumbing through the stack again. He was older, probably a senior, with broad shoulders and the kind of smile that spoke of money. In other words, he looked like he belonged here.

  Me, on the other hand?

  Not so much.

  Which is why I was trying to quell my pending panic attack.

  What if this had all been a mistake? What if I had turned down Yale and Cornell and Princeton because Cambridge was supposed to be better than all of them and now my acceptance had been some sort of horrible admissions error? Or a joke someone had played on me, and now they were going to –

  “Oh, here you are!” the orientation guy said happily. He plucked my packet out of the stack and handed it to me. “It was stuck to the one behind it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I went took a few steps away and started to open the packet, but he called after me.

  “I’m Adam, by the way.”

  “Lindsay,” I said, before remembering he obviously already knew that.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I know.”

  There was no one behind me in line, probably because it was starting to get late.

  Orientation packet pick-up was from noon to four, but apparently everyone had decided to get there early, because it was close to three and there was no one around. Of course, there were lots of packets left, which led me to believe that either there were a lot of incoming freshman, or there were a lot of people who hadn’t picked up their packets.

  So maybe I had it wrong, and I was actually one of the first ones. Maybe everyone cool was picking up their packets late, maybe they didn’t –

  “Are you going to get your I.D. card now?” Adam asked.

  I stared at him blankly.

  “At the administration building?” He grinned. “You’re supposed to go and get your picture taken for your I.D. card.”

  “Oh.” I swallowed. “Thanks. Um, yeah, I guess I am.”

  “I can show you where it is.” He turned to one of the other students working nearby. “Hey, do you mind covering for me? I need to take someone to admin.”

  Before I knew it, he was ushering me outside, like he’d just adopted me as his own personal freshman.

  “Where are you from?” he asked as we walked down the sidewalk. A girl carrying a huge beanbag chair walked right between us, so it took me a second before I could answer.

  “Ohio,” I said. “A little town outside of Cincinnati.”

  He nodded, and I got the sense that he was actually listening, filing this information away for further reference.

  “Spent much time in Boston?” he asked.

  I shook my head no, hoping he wouldn’t ask me for specifics. The truth was, I’d never been to Boston before. I hadn’t even visited Cambridge University before I’d accepted their offer of enrollment. The thought made me a little nervous – that I’d committed to spending the next four years of my life at a school and a city that I’d never spent time in, but it was Cambridge University, after all.

  They had the best pre-med program in the country. Not to mention Boston had some of the best hospitals in the entire world. Plus they offered me a fantastic financial aid package, and so even though I’d gotten into Princeton, Stanford, and Yale, I picked Cambridge University. It was harder to get into than all of the other Ivies, a fact they had splashed all over their website.

  “You’ll love Boston,” Adam said. He chatted on about different things to do in the city, and I walked along beside him, happy just to listen.

  When we got to the administration building, there was a line of students out the door.

  “Thanks for walking me,” I said.

  “Looks like you’re going to be here for a while,” Adam said.

  “Yup.” I didn’t mind. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do -- my parents and I had already spent a couple of hours setting up my dorm room when they’d dropped me off this morning. Actually, “dropped me off” wasn’t an accurate description, because it makes it seem like it happened quickly.

  In actuality, the three of us had gotten into Boston late the previous evening and spent the night in a hotel. Early this morning we’d come to check out my room, and then spent an agonizing three hours at Target, picking out all the things my mom thought I was going to need, including but not limited to, a bulletin board (for what?), extra-long sheets (necessary), and house slippers (she’d gotten it into her head that the dorm floors with filthy, and that I was going to acquire some sort of foot fungus unless I was protected.) My roommate, whose name was Rachel Flowers, wasn’t going to be arriving until tomorrow. We’d spoken on the phone over the summer, just a quick conversation which had amounted to me letting her know that I would bring a dorm fridge, and her asking me if I partied, to which I’d lied and said I did.

  Adam was standing there awkwardly, and I hoped he didn’t think I expected him to wait with me.

  “You should probably get back,” I said.

  “Yeah.” But he didn’t show any signs of going anywhere. Then, a second later, his eyes brightened.

  “Come on,” he said. He took my hand, which was a little bit weird, since he was practically a stranger, but I decided maybe it was a college thing (didn’t people always say you’d make your best friends for life at college?), and just went with it.

  He led me behind a couple of buildings and then looped back around toward the rear of the administration building.

  “There’s a back entrance,” he said. “And if we go in that way, you can cut the line.”

  “Oh,” I said. “That’s okay, I don’t mind waiting, really.” The thought of breaking a rule on my first day was enough to almost make me break out in hives. (I’m kidding.

  Sort of.)

  “We just have to figure out how to get over this fence,” Adam said, either not hearing my protests, or just deciding to ignore them. He put his foot on the bottom of the wrought-iron fence behind the administration building and began trying to hoist himself over. “Once I get to the other side, you can climb up and then I’ll lift you over.”

  Lift me? Oh, dear God. I hadn’t been lifted anywhere since I was ten and my grandpa would have too much to drink at the Cramer family Christmas party and toss me into the air like I was a toddler.

  I wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. I didn’t want to break any rules—and I definitely didn’t want to climb this fence—but at the same time, he was the only person I knew here, and to refuse might lose me the one friend I’d made so far.

  But then something happened that made the whole thing a moot point.

  Adam tried to hoist himself over the fence, and his leg scraped against one of the spikes on top, tearing into his flesh and gashing his thigh. Whimpering, he dropped back over to my side of the yard.

  “Dammit,” he said, grabbing at his leg.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “Really, it’s not that big of a deal. I told you, I don’t mind waiting.” I kneel
ed down next to him. A stream of blood was dripping down his leg, and the cut looked deep. I reached into my bag and pulled out a scarf, using it to put pressure on the wound. But I could already tell it was going to need stitches.

  “Sorry,” he said, sounding sheepish. “I guess we’ll have to join the other line.”

  “Yeah, probably,” I said. “But first we’re going to have to get you to the hospital.”

  ***

  The emergency room was a lot less busy than I’d thought it would be.

  I felt bad for Adam, I really did, but I also couldn’t help but feel a little thrill as we walked through the doors of the hospital. Most people hated hospitals, but I loved them.

  Everything was so exciting – doctors running around, patients waiting to be seen, tests being ordered, people being healed. It was amazing.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” Adam moaned as we sat in the waiting room.

  “You’ll be okay,” I said. I was filling out his insurance form, asking him for the information as I wrote it down. It felt kind of weird, honestly. I had just met this guy, like, an hour ago. And now here I was at the hospital with him.

  When it was our turn, we got called into an ER bay where Adam laid down on a cot and waited for the doctor. I didn’t know what to do, so I kind of just hovered nearby.

  “I think I’ve lost a lot of blood,” he said. “Do you think I’ve lost a lot of blood?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “I think you’re going to be fine.”

  There was a snort from the other side of the curtain.

  I frowned.

  “Yeah, you’re definitely right,” Adam said. “I think I’m just going to need one or two stitches.”

  “Probably.”

  Another guffaw from the other side of the curtain. How rude. Some other patient was making fun of Adam’s distress.

  But before I could decide what to do about it, the doctor arrived. She was a short woman with dark hair named Dr. Singh. She took one look at the cut and told Adam he was most definitely going to need stitches, probably three or four.

  His face went pale.

  “Maybe we can use those butterfly stitches,” he tried. “You know, those special Band Aids that close you up so you don’t need to use a needle?”