If You Break (The Redeemed Book 1) Read online

  If You Break

  The Redeemed book 1

  J Rose

  Contents

  Foreword

  Preface

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Playlist

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2020 by J Rose

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters and events are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, establishments or events is coincidental.

  For more information, please contact [email protected]

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used without the express permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in the context of a book review or article.

  Cover Design by Maria Spada

  Interior Formatting by Bookish Author Services

  ISBN 9798665720395

  To anyone that has ever lost themselves to the darkness.

  Disclaimer

  This book deals with dark topics that may be upsetting or triggering for some readers. References include sexual abuse/assault, childhood abuse recollections, PTSD/anxiety, alcohol/drug references, explicit language and sexual content.

  Please bear this in mind before reading.

  This is a MFM Paranormal Romance, meaning that the main character will not have to choose between her two love interests.

  ‘Memento mori, si vis vitam, para mortem’

  - If you want to endure life, prepare for death

  Prologue

  Plato once said that the body was simply a prison for the soul and in death, the spirit was released from its mortal bindings. This was the ultimate act of freedom, of liberation and spiritual awakening. Losing one’s life was not the end, merely a stepping off point, a slight pause on a divinely ordained journey.

  There was no grey area, no flux-like state between the two basic pillars of existence.

  There was simply life and death. Two states of being, entirely separate and opposite.

  Like black and white, good and bad, love and hate.

  Polar opposites, parallel notions. No in between or room for negotiation.

  You have the living and the dead. The present and the deceased.

  This was the view the world held, the view that made sense. It was basic physiology, the beating heart of the living and breathing, and the coldness of a vacated body. The distinction that defined our existence from beginning to end. A world inhabited by the living and built by the dead. Once you shed your mortal skin, the spirit moved on to the next stage, leaving the empty shell behind.

  I was at peace in death.

  I spent my days exploring the Elysian Fields. That’s how I thought of the spiritual plane that I inhabited. The endless expanse of greenery and great, towering trees were magnificent. It was the most peaceful place I’d ever seen. I felt no grief, no loss or heartbreak. No traumatic memories plagued me, or pesky feelings broke my ceaseless contentment. There was no sense of time or meaning, no discernible existence. I was no longer among the living, without form or body, nothing to weigh me down.

  No pain.

  Just mile after mile of soft green grass, shining blue sky and happiness. I simply floated in an ethereal state, utterly tranquil and free from the horror of living.

  They say that death is the end and it’s true. Life as we know it ceases to exist. In so many ways, it is the end. But in every other way, it is so much more. It is the next step on a never-ending journey, the realisation of an existence beyond the physical world.

  I never considered myself a believer in faith. My young life was too consumed with hate and suffering to believe in a higher power, a force that decided I was supposed to go through hell. No benevolent God would have made that decision. Even when my spirit continued on to the green fields of the afterlife, I still didn’t believe. There were no pearly white gates or shining angels, no golden staircase leading to the palace of the celestials, or some shit like that.

  Just me and my silent meadow. It was my idea of heaven. It was where I found my peace.

  But as with all perfect things, the illusion eventually shattered. The image of the fields evaporated, slipping away like paint down a drain. The serene picture was gone in an instant, stolen away from me as I was flung back, my body soaring through the air indefinitely. Like a string was pulling me along, the eventual destination unknown to me.

  Everything plunged into darkness, spiralling further and further down. The floating, ethereal state I’d been happily trapped in was gone, replaced by searing pain that slammed into me.

  One by one, each cell of my body slowly restarted, like a rusted old engine receiving a jump start.

  I was shoved back into my body with sheer force, like stuffing a sleeping bag away. The part that had been floating in ecstasy was reduced back down to the physical world, no longer intangible.

  A ferocious current of raw energy pulsed through my physical form, wrapping around each nerve ending and forcing them to reawaken. It was instantaneous, like a bolt of lightning striking the ground. There was no defibrillator, no external involvement forcing the air back into my lungs. My body sparked back to life under the sheer intensity of the power, the electric current tearing through my extremities and bringing back feeling; beautiful, painful feeling.

  The stuff of life.

  The great dividing force between the living and the dead.

  Prickles spread across the nerves on my palms and down my arms to my chest, middle, legs and feet. As the feeling returned to my stiff body, the fiery pain came too. It worked its way up through my torso, and the huge waves of blistering agony awakened me from my hibernation with an almighty wail of pain. My eyes shot open, burning and watering as I felt my insides turn to ash.

  “Holy shit, what is this?”

  “She’s s-supposed to be d-dead! She was in stage three rigor mortis.”

  “Someone get management on the line, I need to speak to the director, now! Everyone, stay back!”

  When the fiery heat had finished sweeping its agonising path through my body, I felt myself drift away once more. My stuttering mind slipped back into unconsciousness and separated from reality.

  But from that moment on, I was back in my mortal prison cell.

  And my journey was just about to begin.

  This isn’t a pretty story, so buckle up. You’re in for a ride.

  One

  Fluorescent lights shone above me, visible through my shut lids as they cleared the clouds of drug-induced confusion. My mind groggily awoke and I slowly became aware of the sensations around me. I could feel the soft mattress beneath me and the scent of bleach that hung in the air, synthetic and reminiscent of hospitals. Goosebumps raced up and down my body as feeling returned. In the distance, faint voices spoke.

  “Reanimation now at one hundred percent. She’s ready.”

  I flickered my eyes open.

  The room settled around me as my vision cleared and my brain began its processing. I noticed the freshly painted ceiling above me, the white metal bars by my feet. Blurred shapes collected in the corner of my vision and I whimpered.

  Where the hell was I?

  Slowly at first, it came back to me. Trickles of awareness as my mind acclimatised to being back in a physical form. Then w
ith the speed of a barrelling freight train, knowledge resurfaced with extreme intensity, the frantic realisation of what exactly had happened.

  I was…alive.

  Clutching the tufts of thin sheets in my fists, I swallowed the lump gathering in my throat. Icy panic was flooding my body as it all rushed back to me. Not the memory of the sleepy, evanescent peace I’d found in the meadow, or the rush of pain as I arrived back in the world against my will. Nor was it the memory of waking up, startling the undertakers examining my still form.

  No, I remembered what happened before.

  Before I found harmony and contentment.

  Before I discovered the difference between life and death for myself.

  Before I took spirit form and discovered the world beyond.

  This memory was dark and sordid. Full of raw agony and suffering. The climactic final chapter of my sad story, or so I’d thought. Really, it was just the beginning chapter of a whole other story.

  I saw the flickering street lamps beneath the noisy underpass, and heard the crunch of broken glass beneath my shoes. The echoing crash of a stray can I’d kicked in anger. Roaring cars that streamed past on the nearby road, drowning out the sound of my frustrated tears. The pound of rain on the ground, soaking into my clothes and cutting right down to my bones. My gut that burned with anger and heartbreak.

  I’d been relieved to see the truck sidling up, hoping that a kind Samaritan was offering a lift to the local girl. Everyone knew my face from working in the pub, the daughter of the village drunk, slogging it night after night with the pointless hope of escaping. Dreaming of a better life, a life free from endless pain and fear. My heart had dropped to my stomach when I spotted the familiar number plate in the darkness. The slamming of the car door, the shadowed figure advancing towards me with practiced malice. He’d always find me. Even in the depths of my despair, he was always there to show me a new level of pain and misery.

  Each time progressing lower and lower into hell.

  Back in reality, my stiff, physical body began to shake violently and I whimpered as my mind forced the unfathomable memories upon me. His hands on my body. Feeling me in ways he’d done a million times before. Time failed to dull the humiliation and hatred, each incident with my personal nightmare only brought a fresh wave, cresting higher and higher each time.

  This time, he didn’t stop. He didn’t skirt on the edge of that final boundary, revoltingly close and enjoying the challenge. Flirting with the line bought him satisfaction. He loved to scare me, promising that today would be the day he’d take that final piece of my soul. It was his most effective threat to ensure my obedience and continued silence.

  Truthfully, I never believed it. It had always been a game to him, a mental dance to subdue me with fear and dread. The promise of making things worse that served to make me accept the allotted amount of hurt with powerless acceptance.

  But it wasn’t a threat anymore. He violated me in an entirely new and despicable manner.

  The memory of the knife was most poignant. Laying there, back in my shuddering body I’d managed to escape before finding myself back in the hell that was my life, I could feel the knife being pressed to my throat. The blood that dripped down slowly as he hurt me in the worst possible way. Warm, sticky blood flowing freely from the vicious slashes inflicted in a moment of impassioned violence. He had no use for me anymore. The final fantasy was fulfilled and I was left to die, alone in the dark.

  I struggled to breathe as the twisted recollection pounded through me. Panting in harsh, painful gasps whilst attempting to pull myself up, I was harshly yanked back by a sharp tug on the wrists. A pair of tightly bound, Velcro straps fastened me to the bed.

  Panic was well and truly established by this point.

  My mind was bombarding me with the traumatic memories… the roof of the truck, the sour smell of his breath, then the cold ground and the fading headlights.

  I cried uncontrollably, desperately searching around for something… anything. After the prized numbness of my afterlife, this was a painful reminder of the harsh price of living. The innate suffering at the crux of being alive.

  Through the blur of my vision, I could see a figure walking towards me from the far side of the room, until she stood above me. Her beady eyes peered down at me through square lenses. She smiled.

  “Lexi? Can you hear me?”

  She had a nice voice. A calming voice. With great effort, I bobbed my head up and down to signify agreement. I saw her reach out and she returned with a small cloth in her hand. I moaned through gritted teeth as she wiped my sweaty forehead with the damp fabric.

  “Better?” she asked.

  I swallowed the thick lump in my throat and nodded stiffly. The suffocating panic still lingered in my chest, but it had somewhat abated in her presence. I urged myself to breathe, forcing air into my tight lungs. The woman smiled encouragingly.

  “That’s good, Lexi… deep breaths. Keep calm.”

  She adjusted my bed so that I could face her upright, and then bustled about sliding the needle from my arm to put aside. This gave me the chance to take in my surroundings, revealing a small, sparse box room with sparkling white walls. The floor was a rich mahogany. The metal bars of the adjustable bed and the IV stand on my left suggested that I was in some kind of hospital.

  Why was I back here? Alive?

  I had the blessing and the curse of remembering where I’d come from. The lush green fields and crystal clear sky. Now, back in this body and with this broken mind, it seemed like a cruel joke. A bitter reminder of the peace I’d lost, the impossibility of what had happened to me. I could take death, my mind accepted that reality with ease. Frankly, with open arms. But this? Being back in this twisted world, I couldn’t accept.

  Surely fate would not have been that cruel.

  In my memories, I’d felt my life slipping through my fingers, escaping like fine sand. I’d watched it dissolve away, vitality leaking out of me along with the crimson blood. There was no life flashing before my eyes, no rush of regret or taunting unfulfilled dreams.

  I had just felt relief.

  He’d ground me down to the point of accepting death willingly. I’d spent my life in the shadows, the chasm separating the happy, fulfilled people and those just getting by, dragging their feet. My entire existence was in shades of night. I lived under a cloud of misery and died in the intimacy of the dark night, alone. And the only thing I felt was gratitude that it was finally over.

  No more suffering. Every day of my life, the sun shone on my face but did nothing to illuminate the inky blackness in my heart. The void that he put there.

  But in the Elysian Fields, there was no pain.

  After feeling myself restart with the shock of burning power, the world coming back into sharp focus and my mind tethering back down to reality, the blissful relief was gone. My sanctuary, my hard earned tranquility, was no more. Melted away, like how a dream floats out of your mind after waking up. With every breath I took back in my broken body, it felt further and further away.

  The woman looked at me with sympathy, her clear blue eyes full of understanding and infinite patience. She seemed prepared for my panic, well-versed in performing this calming service. Her hand rested on my leg through the paper thin, white sheet covering me. When she spoke, her voice was like that of a therapist. Someone that had to listen to awful things and then smile and say it was okay. She was prepared to witness the trauma and suffering of someone forced back into life, after having it ripped away from them.

  Now that was a fucked up situation.

  “Focus, Lexi. Do you know what happened to you?”

  I dropped her eye contact and focused on the wrinkles of the sheet. Like an involuntary reflex, my mind coughed up the sickening memories, feeling his hands on my body once again, touching me in all his favourite places. He had it down to a fine art. Nausea rose in my throat and I swallowed hard.

  I shook my head slowly, failing to find the words to describe
what I’d experienced. The sheer insanity of the truth buried in my memories. How did I explain what I’d been through? The inexplicable place I’d been ripped away from, that felt more and more like a dream?

  My voice cracked as I spoke, mouth parched and sore from disuse.

  “Where a-am I?”

  The woman squeezed my fingers with comfort, poised for the question.

  “It’s okay. I understand what you are going through right now. We all do here. My name is Ruth, I’m your doctor.”

  I interrupted her in a frantic whisper.

  “Why did you wake me up? You should have just let me be. I don’t want to be back here… I was happy with not living anymore. Please, let me go back. I-I beg you...”

  She froze, a startled look taking over her face as she listened to my nonsensical rambling. Her eyes darted around quickly, assessing my words before she spoke again.

  “What do you mean? What place are you talking about?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the world to melt away and the darkness to return. As if I could have clawed my way back up the spiralling descent that stole me away from my haven. But it was useless, there was no way back. That was not how it worked.

  She continued to say my name, demanding my attention until I opened my eyes again.

  “Where were you, Lexi? What do you remember?”

  She was being cruel, flaunting it in my face. She knew where I’d been. Where she’d stolen me back from.

  “You know where I was. You woke me up! How could you do this to me?” I whispered brokenly.