Authors: Mari Arden
Prologue
"You got the
money?" The voice is rough, and unnatural. The skinny man smiles
dazedly at him. Cold eyes glare back. A thought crosses his mind that
he should be scared, and he feels a slight tremor go through his
body. The only thing that keeps him upright is the rush of adrenaline
from the E-bomb he had snorted earlier.
He hands the cloaked
figure the rolls of Benjamins from his jacket pocket. Fifteen
thousand dollars. That's how much his sister had given. There are
some hundreds missing that he used to pay off his dealer, but it'd
been worth it. He couldn't be standing here with the delivery tonight
if he had gotten jumped, now could he? Large hands count the hundred
bills, muttering softly. He sees the exact moment the man realizes
some money has disappeared. He gulps.
"Hey, man, chill,
I can get you the rest later," he attempts to sound cool, but
his voice sounds weak, and pleading. In the silence, one thought
whispers in his mind: he should've snorted more. His heart's pounding
now, but it isn't from the drug. It's from fear.
He peers into the
voluminous hood, but the deep shadows make it impossible to see
inside. Silence emanates from the cloaked figure like a threat. The
skinny man is reminded yet again of how secluded they are from the
city. The nearest road is over a mile away, and the cabin behind them
looks old and dilapidated. The trees are bare and the ground barren.
The winter breath has wiped it all away. Everything about where they
are feels desolate and wrong. Even the euphoria from the drug can't
hide that.
When the hooded figure
speaks, his voice rumbles with tightly controlled anger. "The
deal was fifteen thousand and not a penny less."
The smaller man takes a
step back. "I don't know what type of deal my sister and her
crazy husband made with you, but-"
"The
deal
,"
the man repeats again with lethal precision, "was fifteen
thousand
and not a penny less
."
"Hey man," he
responds nervously, taking another step back. "You can trust me.
I can get you that money back. If you would just wait a few days-"
"Wait?" The
dark figure interrupts. His voice continues to be low, but that's
more deadly than yelling. The smirk is felt even though the smaller
man can't see it. "You don't know who you're dealing with, do
you?" The cloaked figure stares hard at him. "In fact, I
don't think you know
what
you're dealing with." That
realization makes him chuckle, and the sound sends cold shivers down
the other man's spine.
Something is very wrong here,
he
realizes with growing unease. Every instinct tells him to flee, but
he can't move. It's like his feet are trapped on the ground.
Suddenly, a strong hand shoots out, grabbing his neck with force.
"Your sister kept
you in the dark about a lot of things, it seems." He is rasping
for breath, but the hand is ruthless. "Where is the package?"
he asks so softly that the other man almost doesn't hear it.
"B-b-b-ack
th-e-re," he pants, his hands clawing at the force that holds
his life. "In the car." His large hand squeezes for a
second more, taking a perverted delight in the other one's suffering.
When he's released, the man falls to his knees, gasping for air. The
hooded figure watches him with detached interest.
"Bring it to me,"
he commands. Then he adds, "If you try to run, I will find you.
And you will be very, very, sorry." They both know it isn't an
empty threat.
The smaller man
stumbles away, terrified. What kind of crap had his sister gotten
herself into? But that thought is brushed aside with the nauseating
smell of fear. This is the only thing his sister had ever asked him
to do, so he's doing it. But after this, he's going to drive far, far
away and never look back.
He pulls the car door
open, and stares at the small box that contains his sister's most
precious possession.
It holds a baby.
Her daughter. His
niece. The "package" that needed to be delivered. He uses
both hands to carry her. She's awake, and staring at him with wide
eyes. He met her for the first time a week ago, and in that time he'd
grown close to her- well, as close as a person like he could, anyway.
He feels a wave of sadness as she cooes to him. He shakes it off, and
continues forward to the scariest man he's ever seen. If he hadn't
promised his sister, he would've ran with the baby right now, but he
doesn't. She had looked desperate when she made him promise. And he
loved her, so he agreed.
Crickets and owls are
heard in the darkness, but the baby is oddly silent. Maybe she is
starting to sense fear. He sure as hell feels it. When he's in front
of the man, he can't bring himself to let go of the box. Even through
his drug induced haze, he's having doubts about what is happening.
"You owe me four
hundred dollars," the cloaked figure finally says after staring
at the box he holds.
"What are you
going to do with her?" he asks.
"What your sister
asked me to do, of course," is the simple reply. The man moves
to take the baby, but his own fingers tighten around the crate.
"Where is my
sister?" he suddenly asks, afraid. Doubt is plaguing his mind
like darts. Maybe if his sister had seen this man she wouldn't allow
him to take her baby. He looks dangerous. Before he can say more, the
man reaches over to pry his fingers loose. The baby is out of his
arms before he can even blink. The large man reaches in with one
hand, and lifts the girl into his arms. The empty box is thrown
carelessly to the ground. In the darkness there is silence as the
cloaked figure stares at her. She is completely still. Warning alarms
ring in the smaller man's head.
"Where is my
sister?" he asks again. A growl of anger erupts, and the man's
arm shoots out once more, clasping his neck. This time the pressure
is so intense he sees flashes of light in front of his eyes. The man
had been holding back before, but he isn't holding back now.
"Your sister is
dead. And you'll be meeting her in hell." The man is literally
squeezing the life out of him. His feet dangle in the air, as
breathing becomes impossible.
The last thing he sees
before his eyes close forever is a bright light, filled with orange
flames. When it goes black, he hears the sounds of fire and smells
burning flesh.
Then he was no more.
* * *
To my parents who
support me in everything I do. You both have taught me what it's like
to love unconditionally and strive for my dreams. I'm forever
grateful to be your daughter!
To Amanda and
Samantha- a girl can't ask for better sisters. Amanda, thanks for
always making time in your busy day to listen to me talk for "five
minutes" and not complain when it turns into twenty. Samantha,
thanks for reading all my drafts and supporting this double life I've
started. You're the best! I love you both to infinity and beyond!
To Molly and Amy-
the best cheerleaders! Molly, thanks for reading my story and making
time to give me feedback. This book is what it is because of YOU!
Amy, thanks for always being there and having my back when I need you
the most. You two rock!
To my personal
life- I've missed you. We'll see each other soon. Maybe.
To Regina Wamba
for creating yet ANOTHER gorgeous cover. You are a genius. Know that
your creativity is admired, appreciated, and loved.
To Becky from Hot
Tree Editing- thank you for doing a phenomenal job with “One”!
You’re a rock star!
To all the amazing
bloggers and fans out there who support indie authors. You're
appreciated, adored, and thanked a thousand times over. You're
awesome beyond words. Thank you!
Last, but not
least, to YOU for picking up this book. You make the lack of sleep,
stress, and hard work all worth it. Thank you for sharing in this
journey with me. I promise there will be many more to come.
I'm Mari Arden
(Mari rhymes with safari). Teacher by day, author by night. When I'm
not living my double life I like to hike and try foods from all over
the world. Up until recently, I used to be scared of dogs. Even
puppies. True story. Now I'm just afraid of anything with more than
six legs. I write to soothe my soul and to, hopefully, entertain YOU.
Adventurous?
Come join my double life!
http://www.mariarden.blogspot.com
http://www.twitter.com/mariarden
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Mari-Arden-author/493749174011347