Unbound (The Braille Club #2)

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The Braille Club Unbound

 

 

By J. A. Kerr

 

The Braille Club Unbound

 

Copyright © 2015 by J.A. Kerr. All rights reserved.

First Print Edition: December 2015

 

 

Limitless Publishing, LLC

Kailua, HI 96734

www.limitlesspublishing.com

 

Formatting: Limitless Publishing

 

ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-378-6

ISBN-10: 1-68058-378-6

 

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

 

Ben

57

Take the pieces and build them skywards.

 

 

Dedication

 

I want to thank the amazing team at Limitless Publishing, you did a terrific job.

I would like to thank my mum who passed on her passion for books, for which I’ll always be grateful.

Many thanks to all my family and friends for believing.

To my angels for their friendship.

To G, C and L, all my love, I couldn’t have done it without you.

 

 

Author’s Note

 

My dream was to write a successful book. Thank you for making my dream a reality.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

 

The Braille Club, London, One Year On. The Braille Bible had been updated as new zones and experiences evolved. New rules came with new zones. Pages were blank except for a series of dots. The first page contained the Braille alphabet. The second page contained Braille numbers, one to ten. All members needed to learn this method of communication…the language of Braille was the language of touch. They would have to learn quickly. Security at the club was tighter than ever, and those dots were the key to their entry.

 

London 2014

Siena

 

Siena walked into the kitchen and clicked on the coffee machine. This was her favourite part of the morning. She could indulge in a coffee while the twins took their nap and read over some work related items. Harrison’s, the club she and Benedict had opened, was doing well, but it was the development of their shared passion that interested her; the secret Braille Club. It operated from within Harrison’s, an exclusive private members club within the heart of Westminster. Siena had been instrumental in financing the ambitious project, and Benedict had completed Phase 1 and 2 of the current renovations.

Members had access to Caligo, the in-house nightclub and the hottest venue in London, and with Phase 1 and 2 complete, they now had a full range of leisure facilities. Their manager, Guy Walker, reported both sides of the business were doing well, and Siena, a trained accountant, could see that reflected in the figures. She heard the post drop to the floor. She flipped through it, separating the junk from the more important mail when she stopped at the official looking white envelope. Her heart thumped…was it the DNA results? Her hands shook, was she ready for this? She knew this letter contained critical information that would not only shape the rest of her life…but would also be central to the court case against Nick.

She needed time to compose herself, and she poured her coffee before reaching for the cookie jar. The routine calmed her heart rate as she took a sip of coffee and a bite of cookie. Her gaze fixed on the envelope in front of her, all coherent thought gone as her stomach did a somersault. That letter contained the evidence that would put her mind at rest and sever Nick from her life forever.

Her coffee and cookie finished, she checked her watch. The twins wouldn’t sleep much longer; her gaze strayed to the envelope. It felt like a ticking bomb. She couldn’t put it off any longer, but didn’t move. She was frightened all the time now, and today was no different. Anger surged through her; she hated what she’d become, what he had done to her. Squaring her shoulders, she reached for the envelope and ripped it open. She took a deep breath and pulled the paper out and read. Yes, it was as she thought; the letter contained the DNA results. Siena trembled as she read then reread the letter, but her mind refused to accept what her eyes were seeing.

“No,” she gasped, tears of shock welling in her eyes.

She couldn’t breathe. Fingers squeezed at her throat as she struggled to comprehend what was happening. Gasping, her breath was more and more erratic. She hunted for a bag as the panic attack took hold. Hyperventilating, she crashed around the kitchen in utter panic.

She found a bag. Shaking all over, she snatched it up and breathed in and out in rapid bursts as her heart pumped furiously in protest. She sensed the attack would be severe, and her panic swelled to dangerous levels. Sweat and distress seeped from every pore. Nick was in her head now, and her terror was absolute. His presence sent Siena’s mind spinning; she recalled the hatred in his eyes and his hands at her throat. No longer in control, his fingers tightened painfully, and a strangled sob escaped her lips. Her windpipe constricted. She dropped the bag and clawed at her throat. Mind at breaking point and body under attack, she forgot everything she had learned to combat these situations. The room spun, and she fell backwards as blackness descended.

Gradually she became aware of a noise—the sound riveted her. She opened her eyes as she heard a sharp cry from the baby monitor. It’s what saved her—stopped her from blacking out again. The sound cut through her fog and fear. Her mothering instinct kicked in, rising above her turmoil as she heard the cry again. The sound forced her to concentrate; she saw the bag lying next to her but still couldn’t move. The cries increased. She turned her head and body. Pain shot through her as she tried to look at the screen. The crying was more distressed but the monitor was out of sight. Frustrated, her fingers reached for the bag, but there was something wrong with her left arm, it wouldn’t move. Panicked but determined, she secured the bag with her right hand and blew into it.

Siena fought for control as a film of sweat covered her body. Her mind was her enemy now; she had to subdue her demons if she had any chance of getting up and attending to her children. She tried to regulate her breathing, taking in small breaths and letting them out like a sigh. The crying ceased and she twisted again towards the monitor. Her heart jumped in fright. Images of Reeva, choking, floated through her head…she was sure it was her cry. She turned onto her right side. The movement made her head swim. Her need to ensure the twins were safe made her reach up and grab the leg of the chair.

Slowly, painfully, she pulled herself upright and onto her knees. Her left shoulder and arm hung uselessly. She rested against the island; the crumpled bag still clutched in her hand, and continued to blow into it. Her anxiety was worse; she had to get to the twins. Head pounding, she probed it with her fingers; wincing. The sight of blood on her fingers made her nauseous and she gagged. There was blood on the floor. Annoyed at her weakness, she concentrated on getting to the monitor. Moving gradually, her knees shuffling on the floor, she edged around the island holding onto the granite until she could see it. Her prize in sight, she ignored the pain in her shoulder. Clumsily, she leaned onto the bar stool for support; her laboured breathing the only sound in the room. The baby monitor remained silent.

Fear made her push up, using all her strength until she was standing. Her legs wobbled at first but were steady now. She propped herself against the worktop and picked up the monitor. The video feed showed the twins asleep, and she let out of sob of relief. She stared at her daughter, searching her face. Fair-skinned Reeva looked angelic with her thumb jammed into her mouth, her white blonde curls framing her face like a halo. Her perfect bow lips were moving as she sucked. She had burrowed into the side of her brother, his face turned away as he slept. They were not identical but fraternal twins. Leo had a mop of dark hair, his skin olive—a stark contrast to his sister.

How could it be possible? Her breathing was still ragged but the worst of the attack was over. Her throbbing shoulder was harder to ignore as beads of sweat rolled down her back. With all of her remaining strength, she banished Nick and his invisible fingers from her mind. Her gaze fell onto the letter, the trigger point of her attack, and she stiffened. Her heart thumped as she reached for the results again. They were still the same, and the words blurred through her tears. Benedict was at work, having left early this morning, unaware his world was about to change forever. Exhausted, distraught, and in pain, she reached for the phone, sick to her stomach…how could she tell him? Her hand faltered—she bent her head and wept.

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