Title: When I’m With You
Author: Author Danielle Dickson
Cover Designer: Marisa-rose Shor /
Cover Me Darling
Cover Me Darling
I’m far from your typical girl-next-door. My piercing blue stare coupled with the ink that winds its way around my arms throws people off, judging who I am before they’ve even spoken to me.
It doesn’t bother me anymore… I’m used to it.
Putting up a front and wearing my steely exterior like a wall of armor is something that I’ve perfected.
I’ve had to become this way. Everyone that I’ve ever met has treated me like dirt and thrown me to the side like a piece of trash. So what’s the point in making an effort just for me to get hurt?
There isn’t… and that’s exactly why I am the way that I am. Protect myself first… always. My past has taught me that much.
The very people that were meant to love me unconditionally turned their backs on me when I needed them the most. With their lifestyle and the company they kept, I shouldn’t have expected anything less.
But… I never expected him to turn his back on me. The one person who made me feel safe. The only one who ever really cared.
I’ve moved across the country to get as far away as I can… from all of them... but deep down I know that they aren’t finished with me yet. I know it’s just a matter of time before they finally catch up to me, and when they do, I just hope I can make it out alive.
The back of the van opens with a creak and my breath hitches as I feel hands wrap around my ankles as I get jerked forward. I try to steady my shaking hands, but who am I kidding? I’m scared shitless.
Apart from his hands pinning me down, he’s not made a move to do anything else yet so my pulse slows down and my head to mouth filter stops working.
“So let me guess, you’re the little bitch doing all the dirty work while my dad sits on his ass? Hmm? Oh come on, Mr silent, give me a little something, it’s not like I can do anything with it.” He doesn’t say or do anything. “Come on, the least you could do is tell me where you’re taking me, you have just taken me hostage, you sick fuck.”
Normally by now they’d have lashed out at what I’m saying, but apart from breaking into my salon and apartment, trashing the place and taking me against my will, he hasn’t actually made a move to hurt me. My mind is swirling, if he isn’t going to hurt me, then maybe I can try and get away?
Just as that thought rolls through my mind I hear the sound of another vehicle approaching, and I stiffen before my mind catches up and I thrash about tirelessly against his arms, but it’s no use. I manage to connect with a few parts of his body that has him wheezing, but he wraps his arms around me to restrain me.
The other engine cuts out and the sound of a door opening makes me freeze. I hear footsteps coming toward us and the gravelly lilt to my attackers’ voice grinds out over the air. “You were supposed to be here an hour ago, I had to drive around for a bit longer so I didn’t look too suspicious.”
I stop breathing, waiting for the other person to speak, but he gets no answer in reply. I feel him ease off me. “She’s feisty, watch out for those feet.”
He chuckles as if this is all just a big joke, like my life means nothing, and then I feel all his weight come off me and another replace his.
The sound of keys being exchanged and retreating footsteps are next, and I breathe in the smoke of whoever is stroking their grubby paws up the outside of my left leg. I stay still and try to contain the panic I’m starting to feel. This exchange is different; I can feel the dark vibes rolling off this person in waves.
Their hand travels across my thighs and down the other leg making me want to throw up as I feel their calloused hands glide across my skin. Fuck this shit, I kick out with both bound feet and smile as they connect with something that makes him curse.
I freeze as years of bad memories assault me, I know that voice better than my own. I’d rather die than be in his hands again.
Danielle has always dreamt about writing a book. With many stories to tell, she finally pulled her finger out one morning when one story screamed at her louder than the rest. When Danielle’s not writing, she can be found painting people’s faces with makeup or watching twenty minute cat videos late at night, procrastination is strong in this one. If you’re ever short for shoes to match your outfit, she’s the person to go to. With an extensive shoe collection that cost more than your mortgage (although she would insist she doesn’t have a problem), you can take your pick. An avid reader all her life, she gets lost in the magic a book immerses you in and hopes to capture that for her readers.