Journey to Dawn:
Step One Breathe
By Reily Garrett
Genre: Ménage Romance/ M/F/M
For those who
have teetered on the brink of oblivion…
One out of six,
Abrielle never thought herself a statistic until her idyllic life shattered one
night in a dark and frozen alley. Assaulted and discarded to the street’s
detritus, she fled the city in an attempt to outrun the horror and pain of
humiliation. Her new existence consisted of fear, anger, and shame.
Through endless
nightmares and cringing from every shadow, life continued to deliver difficult
and exhausting lessons. The recovery process is not a linear transition, but
fraught with triggers and mental minefields she must navigate to restore a
semblance of normal life.
After two years
of painstaking progress, Abrielle returns with her therapy dog to face the two
men who’d loved her, praying they can all find closure and move forward with
their lives.
This story
revolves around one woman’s ascent from the hellish nightmare of sexual assault.
“Hello, Abby,” Morgan murmured, his greeting
issued from lips that seemed a little firmer, the lines surrounding his mouth a
little deeper, yet his eyes penetrated everything in their path, dissecting,
evaluating. Some things never changed.
The tone said it all, declared what her mind
couldn’t comprehend. That deep voice could seduce anything between heaven and
hell, destroying months of mental preparation to remain neutral. The intonation
released anxiety’s hold around her libido one syllable at a time until
undeniable warmth invaded every cell in her body. The conflicting emotions
equaled sitting at the devil’s side as flames licked up one’s nether regions,
all while he fed small slivers of dry ice, which summed up her physical
responses, burning both inside and out.
Nothing could stop her gaze from bonding to
the dark eyes that haunted her sleep, the scattered, unconscious fantasies
where she reveled in Morgan’s caresses even as her other partner drove her lust
to uncontrollable heights.
All those pipe dreams had vanished one night
in a cold, filthy alley.
“Hi, Morgan. You look…good.” If anything in
the world could resuscitate her battered soul, Morgan was one of two that stood
the best odds. But that opportunity had sailed long ago. She used to describe
his looks as dark and dangerous—black hair, blue eyes, a stubborn jaw that
reinforced the strong angles of his face. Then she’d learned new, horrific, and
painful meanings of the terms.
Stepping up beside him, the other half of her
lost life offered a sincere, heart-melting smile. “Hello, sweetheart.” Like
Morgan, Finn didn’t make a move to enter her domain—as if aware of the changes
she’d endured. Sandy blond hair accentuated dark, emerald eyes that turned
stormy when heated with desire. Now, they held emotions she couldn’t
disentangle, something unfathomable fringed with accusation that sliced through
air thickened with anticipation. If they raked her over the coals, it was
nothing less than she deserved.
Both stood over six-foot-two, able to cocoon
her with a sense of security with their mere presence. Searching their gazes,
her men, the ones she’d known and loved, were still there, but now tempered
with a steadfastness that declared her determination inconsequential.
Security, that most coveted prize she’d
thrown away in her misguided attempt to outrun terror and shame. However, she
was no longer a submissive, anyone’s submissive, and she had the scars to prove
it.
As much as Morgan’s self-confidence screamed
dominance, she didn’t fear him. Like Finn, he echoed a time when she had taken
their presence for granted. “Hello, Finn.” Jellied legs wouldn’t sustain her
weight, despite how slim and toned she’d become through exercise and an
inability to properly eat. She remained seated and indicated the chairs
opposite her desk.
“Thank you.” In tandem, both men strode in
and sat with even more self-assurance than she remembered.
“Before you say anything, I want to
apologize…”
“For running away when you needed our help?
Or for breaking our hearts?” Finn was the first to list her sins.
And this is supposed to be the easy part of
recovery. “Actually—both. I know I should’ve done more than leave a note. But,
well, I couldn’t. I was scared and confused and hurt.”
“Scared we couldn’t keep you safe?” A thread
of Finn’s anger bled through his disbelief.
“We didn’t keep her safe, we failed. That’s
why she ran.” Morgan closed his eyes as pain washed over his expression. Two
fingers covered his mouth as if trying to suppress an old argument and emotions
bubbling under the surface of his restraint.
“Look. First, it wasn’t your responsibility
to protect me. I failed. My arrogance and stupidity landed me in that position.
I’m sorry I ran, but nothing I can do will change the past. I needed time to
heal.”
“If you were healed, you’d be in vet school.
It was your dream.” Morgan accepted Crystal’s sniffing welcome before reaching
under her head to stroke her chest. “She smells Lexus.”
“Who’s Lexus?” Their new submissive? Abby’s
wary glance flicked from Morgan to Finn. An all-encompassing dread filled her
stomach. Knowing some great upheaval approached at the speed of a freight train
didn’t help one prepare for the devastation. She’d known this was coming.
“Lexus is our Bernese Mountain dog,” Morgan
replied, his sad smile confirming an understanding of her thought’s direction.
“Things change, Abby. We get that. We’ve
changed, too. Come to dinner with us and talk. You used to love the little
restaurant down the highway before Saunter’s Cove. It’s quiet, and we can watch
the late surfers while we eat.” Morgan’s tone threaded concern with the subtle
command.
“Um, Crystal—not all businesses welcome
service dogs...” She didn’t remember seeing canines by the cozy tables under
the brightly colored awnings.
“She’s welcome to join us. They won’t have a
problem getting along. Lexus is well socialized. The owner at Lucca’s Café
loves dogs.” Morgan squashed her refusal before she’d given it voice. “You owe
us that much, Abby.” Morgan’s innate strength flooded the room to surround her
in swathing comfort.
Unlike Cami, Abrielle’s scar wasn’t visible
unless she wore deep V-neck shirts or unbuttoned her collar, both remnants of a
past life. Still, self-consciousness forced her to fiddle with the necklace
around her throat, disguising her need to ensure adequate coverage.
As if understanding her impending refusal,
Finn stood and ambled around her desk while maintaining eye contact. That same
intensity used to scrutinize her every breath during a scene, watching her for
signs of increased stress. “I know you’re not afraid of us, sweetheart. We just
want to take you to dinner. No strings attached. We need to see for ourselves
that you’re all right.”
“You’re going to want…” With two dominants in
the room, one standing almost behind her, Abrielle’s words faltered. She merely
nodded permission before Finn’s knuckles barely skimmed her shoulders in the
lightest of touches, as if he could absorb her shame into his strength, so she
couldn’t breathe it deep into her lungs with every inhalation.
A quiet gasp at the contact before heat, so
much wonderful heat, invaded to the very depth of her spirit. She sighed as her
lack of control saw her head tilting into his touch.
“We want nothing but to take you to dinner.
We’ll keep it casual. We need to see that you’re in one piece and on a healing
path.” Morgan’s grin widened with her obviously weakening reserves.
She hadn’t relaxed her guard in the presence
of a man for two years. Now, she could barely focus as Finn’s strong fingers
probed the tight muscles of her shoulders and neck, reminding her how often
he’d done so after a scene. Though time never dissolved the horrific memories
completely, it could dim and keep them from throwing her world off-kilter.
“If you tell me to stop, I will, but I know
you’re enjoying this. Nothing is going to be the same as it was, but it doesn’t
mean life can’t be good again, sweetheart,” Finn whispered close to her ear as
if to avoid breaking the mesmerizing spell he weaved through his resistance-melting
massage, one stroke at a time.
Reily’s
employment as an ICU nurse, private investigator, and work in the military
police has given her countless experiences in a host of different environments
to add a real world feel to her fiction.
Though her kids
are her life, writing is Reily’s life after. The one enjoyed…after the kids are
in bed or after they’re in school and the house is quiet. This is the time she kicks
back with laptop and lapdog to give her imagination free rein.
In life, hobbies
can come and go according to our physical abilities, but you can always enjoy a
good book. Life isn’t perfect, but our imaginations can be. Relax, whether it’s
in front of a fire or in your own personal dungeon. Take pleasure in a mental
pause as you root for your favorite hero/heroine and bask in their
accomplishments, then share your opinions of them over a coffee with your best
friend (even if he’s four legged). Life is short. Cherish your time.
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Thank you for hosting my tour. You have a beautiful blog.
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