 by T.L. Smith.jpg)
Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
As adults, we married. But it was all fake.
The wedding, us, what he did for a job. None of it was real.
Except it was.
They say he’s nothing but Mayhem, yet when he’s with me, he’s my salvation. Everything I need and more. The problem is…
He has a fascination for blood.
I can’t handle it, in more ways than one.
He has a fascination for me.
I hate it, even though I can’t stop thinking about him either.
Some people should not be together, and that’s us; we could never work.
But letting go is impossible when my serial killer of a husband is determined to prove me wrong.
Moments of Mayhem> can be read as a complete standalone or third in the series of the Hunter brothers.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
One
Mayve
My sweaty hands brush down my spandex suit.
Sucking in a breath, I place one foot in front of the other. Glancing down, my white Birkenstocks are on my feet, but other than that, everything else I’m wearing is black and red. I can barely make out the dirt path I’m walking on, and I’m hoping and praying to the gods I’m going in the right direction.
Walking to a party when it’s pitch black and you’re partially blind in one eye probably isn’t the best move. My other eye has great vision, and I can do most things normally like read, but sometimes, it’s a struggle. Yet here I am, trying my hardest to step out of my comfort zone.
I’m sure my co-workers didn’t think I would come. To be honest, I wasn’t sure I would either. But here I am, attempting to walk since I couldn’t get a cab and I’ve been with this company for so many years that I think its time I start attempting to be around them more.
The night sky is so black I can’t even make out the moon or the houses in front of me. My only sources of direction are the path I’m walking on and the navigation lighting my phone.
I hear laughter not far away and wrap my arms around my waist as I continue walking.
Don’t stop!
Don’t look anywhere but in front of you.
“Do you want to die?” I whisper to myself.
That answer is a firm no.
No, I will not die today.
The laughter seems to be getting closer, and my feet move faster.
My phone dings and tells me to keep straight for the next seven minutes.
The laughter becomes louder.
I hear my breathing become more audible, and I wonder if they can hear it too. A predator always knows when to come for their prey.
I mean, let’s be real. I’m dressed absolutely insanely, who wears red spandex out in public? Me, that’s who. And I’m second-guessing everything.
What the fuck am I even doing?
Can I turn back?
Is it as easy as that?
Would I be walking straight into the circle of those voices?
And the next question is, are those voices even friendly?
My guess would be no.
“Mrs. Incredible,” I hear one sing.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and my feet move quicker but not too fast. I’m afraid to run. If I do, will it encourage them to come after me? But with each step, I hear them get closer and closer. I count to ten in my head, then I count each step I take. Ten steps—ten seconds, or maybe I’m counting fast. But when I reach ten, I exhale shakily and look over my shoulder.
That’s when I see them.
Two men laughing and gaining on me. I can’t see them clearly—it’s too dark for that—but I can make out their figures. Quickly turning back, I trip and fall forward, my gloved hands catching and saving me from landing face-first. My cell tumbles to the ground, and I hear it crack, but I pray to God it will still work. I stand as quickly as I fell, bringing my phone with me.
The men laugh louder.
Assholes.
My stomach feels like it will explode as nerves take hold while my breath is bursting in and out. I’m so not used to being in this situation.
My cell speaks again, telling me there are still six minutes on this path.
Shit. Six more minutes with them gaining on me with every single step I take.
I avoid people for a reason and walking down a dark street being followed by two men is my justification.
“Are they bothering you?” I startle at the sound of the voice—it’s rough and drops to a frightening whisper. “Do you want me to kill them for you?”
For some reason, I stop dead, which most normal people wouldn’t do. I’m sure of that. Why would you in this type of situation? I try to see his face by blinking a few times, but I can barely make out any features as his head is lowered and the midnight sky envelops him. I can tell his jawbone is sharp and strong. Can I see the color of his eyes—no. The color of his hair—again, no. I shouldn’t be walking around at night with impaired vision, as the darkness only worsens it. My inability to adapt quickly has me cringing and forcing all my other senses into hyperactivity. Should I flee? Should I hide?
“Ahhh, she stops,” I hear one of the men behind me sing.
I don’t dare turn around.
My heart races to a rhythm that is not pleasant.
My eyes flick to the man before me as he wipes his hands on his trousers. “Mrs. Incredible, interesting choice.” He pauses. “I wonder if you bend the same way.” I can hear the joke in his voice, but the way he says it frightens me, and now I’m worried if it’s him I should be concerned about and not the men behind me. His voice is laced with defiance and a hint of danger. Or maybe it’s the other way around. I don’t know.