Redemption (The Restoration Series Book 1)

Redemption (The Restoration Series Volume 1)

Title

Redemption

The Restoration Series

Volume 1

Author: Christina Simpson

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is prohibited without the written permission of the author.

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

Print and published in the United States of America.

©2014 Christina Simpson

Special Thanks and Dedication

Special Thanks:

First and foremost, I want to thank my heavenly Father above for giving me the opportunity to write and publish the works of my dreams.

I also want to thank my very supportive family and friends who encourage me beyond belief.

To my inner circle, you have pushed me to grow every single day. I wouldn’t be doing this without you.

Special Thanks to my Beta Readers: Bob Baldwin and Pastor George McVey. Your insight has been extremely helpful in this process.

This book is dedicated to my husband.

You inspire me. Forever, with everything.

Chapter 1

PRESENT DAY

(Location Unknown)

NOVA

 I huddled in the corner of the room, tugging the dingy, tattered shirt further down my legs in an attempt to cover my wounded body. My head spun as my legs trembled, giving out beneath me. Reaching up to brush the hair out of my face, my fingers prodded at the large gash on my hairline. It was seeping with dark red blood that flowed freely down my soiled brow. Flashes of his face, contorted in anger, sped across my mind and I shivered at the memory of what had just occurred. The onslaught of tears rolled down my now-swelling face.

 The screams of girls all around me echoed through the walls, and I winced at what I knew was happening to them. I didn’t know where we were being held, but I had to find freedom somehow. The shadowed room had only a lamp placed in the corner with a small trash can next to it. A single striped mattress lay tossed on the floor, bare, and covered in dark smudges and bright red spots of dried blood that belonged to me. It was the evidence of pure evil reaching to destroy me. I’ll never get it back. My innocence was gone.

 I allowed myself to freely weep, my voice mixing with the pain of others around me. I couldn’t see them, but I could hear them, feel them. Their pain was mine, and mine, theirs.

 Footsteps began to pound down the hall, doors opening and slamming shut. Moments later, the door to my small square space swung open to reveal a tall, muscular man who stepped inside. His hair was black as night, and his face was covered in scratches, a mixture of fresh wounds and old scabbed-over.. He wore a dark blue flannel shirt and muddy jeans that covered black muddy work boots.

 “Girl!” The single word whipped out, commanding me to 

meet his gaze. My whole body trembled with fear as I turned my eyes to his.

 “You. Clean.” He tossed a bottle of water and a dirty cloth onto the dingy mattress, then turned and slammed the door behind him.

 I scrambled over to the mattress and pulled the bottle of water into my hands, struggling with twisting the plastic cap off the top. Using the friction from my shirt to help me loosen it, I lifted it to my lips, taking a few large gulps of water to quench the throbbing pain in my throat. I tipped some of the remaining water onto the cloth and began to press it to my face, wiping away the evidence of violence that had tainted it. The blood had begun to clot, and I was careful not to wipe across the cut and cause the flow to begin all over again. When I was done with my face, I rinsed the rag and used it to clean my arms and legs. I scrubbed my skin raw, hoping to rid the feel of the monster who came before him. My flesh was already sore, and I cried out in pain as the rag touched more sensitive parts of my body. The stinging tears returned as I let my mind cry out to something or someone, reaching for some kind of hope.

 Please. If someone is up there listening…help me.

 I tossed the empty bottle into the small trash can which had been filled with discarded bits of evidence. Folding the rag, I tucked it under the mattress in hopes that I could keep it hidden for future use. I had no idea when or if I’d have the chance to get another one.

 The whimpers began shortly after that. One by one the noises began to fill my ears as doors were being opened and shut. Men were laughing, girls were crying. They were speaking another language, and I couldn’t make out what was being said. Then, it happened. My door flew open and in walked the same grimy man from before, followed by two younger men, both with dark skin and dark eyes.

 “Stand.”

 I shook my head defiantly.  Anger ignited in his eyes and he reached to yank me from my position and strike me across the face, causing more stinging tears to pool in my eyes. I trembled in his calloused hands, barely able to move. He set me on my feet roughly, waiting to see if I would fight again. I stilled myself and followed his orders, letting my mind think on things of the past. The older man spoke a few lines of the other language to the two younger men, then bartered back and forth for a few moments, resulting in one of the young men finally handing over a wad of bills. After that, he left the room, leaving me in the care of two more monsters. This was my life now. I was a slave. A slave to evil.

 The man on the left sneered at me and took a step forward. I cringed, making myself seem as small as possible, in hopes they would see my fear and retract their deal. He slowly paced a circle around me, his eyes roaming every inch of my body. I shut my eyes, taking labored breaths and counting inside my head, an effort to keep my mind focused on anything but what was about to take place. I felt fingers slip into my long greasy blonde hair, unwashed and dirty. At first they were gentle, almost as if they were relishing in the feel of something foreign. That feeling didn’t last very long. I felt a sharp tug at the back of my head, forcing my chin upwards. His eyes were cold as steel, and he leaned down and set his mouth over mine, roughly.

 A few seconds later he was shoved out of the way by the other man. This tormentor’s face replaced his friend’s, assaulting my lips as if they were water, and he was dying of thirst. Pinning my mouth closed as hard as I could, I heard a chuckle before feeling a piercing jolt through my lip and warm liquid seeping down my chin. In the next moment, I was pulled against the chest of the first monster and pushed down onto the mattress. I tried to fight him. I reached up, scratching his face, and attempted to bite anything I could. I felt a hard knock to the side of my face, forcing my head sideways. The more I fought, the harder the man hit. When I couldn’t force myself to fight anymore, I gave up. The other man quickly helped in removing the only thing I had covering me. I closed my eyes and turned my face to the chipped concrete wall, drifting to another time, another place. I couldn’t do anything else. I just didn’t want to feel.

* * *

THREE DAYS AGO

(Sydney, Australia)

NOVA

 I reached above me and hit the small round button, powering on the vent above my head. Evie’s eyes were focused out the window beside me, overlooking the glistening ocean.

 “It’s so blue,” she whispered in awe.

 Grinning, I pulled out the stick of balm in my purse and quickly applied it to my lips. I was overwhelmingly excited, and the view was breathtaking. It was everything I had hoped it would be.

 Our college graduation now behind us, we were on our way to a week-long vacation in Sydney, Australia. My parents were more than generous, surprising us with the expenses for an entire week’s stay at a beautiful beach resort.

 The speakers above us crackled to life and the scratchy voice of our pilot came through, welcoming us to Sydney. I gripped the armrest of my seat while we descended, but the landing was smooth, despite my racing heartbeat. Flying had never been one of my favorite activities, but it was worth it in the end. The plane came to a stop at the gate and a chime sounded in the cabin, announcing that we were free to get up and move around. We watched and waited as rows ahead of us began to shuffle their things out of the overhead compartments, then file out of the aircraft.

 We slowly gathered our things and merged into the line, waiting for our turn to move. Finally having a clear path, we excitedly waved goodbye to the pilot and attendants, then stepped across the threshold of the plane and into the breezeway. The warm air greeted us as we moved up the ramp and into the waiting building.  I took in the airport around us, beautiful in all its glory. It was bright, sunny, and filled to the brim with people of all ages, shuffling from one gate to another and flooding in and out of the small gift shops that lined the terminal. Large blue signs directed us toward the baggage claim area, and I pulled Evie by the arm in an excited rush.

 We came to a halt beside the steel carousel, waiting for our luggage to rise up from the dark abyss. Families stacked their cases on metal carts around us, and a few small children ran around, laughing in excitement. Minutes later, my pink bag came tumbling out of the hole, followed quickly by Evie’s dark purple suitcase. We quickly grabbed them and turned, stepping through the large sliding glass doors that led outside.

 The hot atmosphere wrapped around us as we stepped to the curb. Breathing in the humid air, I felt sweat begin to bead on the back of my neck, and I reached up to wipe it away. Glancing around and trying to get a feel for what we should do, I saw a line of taxis waiting for passengers. In response to my arm lifting high in the air, a blue taxi pulled in front of us. A young Australian man, looking a few years older than us, stepped out of the driver’s seat and walked around the car to greet us.

 “Welcome to Sydney!” His accent caused us to smile as he reached for our bags.

 “Thank you.” I smiled and lifted my hand to block the glare of the sun, trying to see his face more clearly.

 “Where are you staying?”

 I dug inside my large red purse for the slip of paper with the address while he set our bags in the trunk, then turned to reach for the door, opening it and waiting for us to slide in. 

 “We’re going to the South Bay Resort.”

 “I know exactly where that is. No worries. Hop in, we’ll be there in a few minutes.”  Once we had secured ourselves, he shut the door and stepped around the car, sliding behind the wheel. Moments later we were on our way. We were finally here, and the beauty of it was overwhelming. 

 “So, where are you beautiful ladies from?” He questioned, taking a glance in the rear view mirror.

 “Texas.” Evie batted her eyes and smiled flirtatiously at him.

 “Wow. That’s a long ways to come. Do you like it there?”

 “I guess. It’s nothing like this.” Her eyes gazed out the window and for a moment she seemed lost in her own thoughts.

 “Of course. Aussie-land is beautiful. There is heaps of things to do. Should be the perfect trip for you both.”

 Although his smile seemed genuine, something seemed a bit odd about it. I felt guarded inside, and I couldn’t pinpoint why, it was just a gut feeling. He brought the cab to a stop in front of the large glass entrance to our hotel and immediately jumped out, holding the door open for Evie and offering his hand. She slid her hand into his and stepped out of the vehicle, faking a slight trip to land casually against his chest.

 “Oh. Sorry about that.” She smirked.

 I chortled behind her and stood up on my own, stepping between them and moving toward the curb. He hefted our bags from the trunk and rested them by our feet. I waited a few moments as Evie chatted with the driver. Realizing she wasn’t going to be finished anytime soon, I grabbed my bag, rolling it inside the swishing doors, and figured she’d find me when she was done.

 The reception desk was beautifully done, made of glass and wood. Behind it stood an older woman who seemed to be about the age of my mother. She had her brown hair pulled up into a tight bun, and a short-sleeved blazer buttoned tightly down her front.

 “Welcome to South Bay. How can I help you?”

 “Hello. My name is Nova Drake. We’re checking in.” I passed her my identification as Evie sidled up beside me with a large smile on her face, pulling her suitcase behind her.

 “Certainly.” The concierge tapped her perfectly manicured fingers swiftly across her keyboard, looking for our information.

 “There you are. We have you placed in a one-bedroom beach bungalow. Just head out those doors on the left, follow the blue painted pavement pass the pools, and toward the beach. It will veer off towards the left and head straight to the bungalows. You’re in bungalow number seven. Enjoy your stay, and if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”