Revive (Storm MC #3) (31 page)

My life had changed so much from growing up as a child in the beautiful wine country of the Barossa Valley in Adelaide. This was something I always looked back on with fond memories. I had been living away from home for over eight years, and I really missed my parents, my younger sister and my friends, especially Mia. She was like another sister to me. Mia was the greatest friend a girl could ever wish for.

Being based in Sydney and travelling to the most amazing destinations all over the world was beyond my wildest dreams. Life couldn't get any more exciting than this; I was truly blessed.

My life was perfect. Just perfect.

******

I
could taste blood.

I could feel blood.

I could see blood.

I could smell blood.

Where was all this blood coming from? I had no idea. I was in so much pain.

The moment his fist connected with my face, blood splattered everywhere; that was how hard he hit me. I tumbled to the floor, hitting my head on the marble top of the dresser in my dressing room. I felt extreme pain everywhere.

Tonight would be the night I died. Tate Turner was going to kill me; I was sure of it.

He was so angry, so relentless, using the force of his fist to punch me continuously. I could feel the harsh impact of his bony knuckles connecting with my body with every blow. His big, thick hands were so forceful that I was beginning to feel giddy and dizzy. It was only a matter of time before I would pass out.

I could barely make out his face through all the blood that was dripping from my own face. mine. It trickled from my nose and went into my mouth. He was looking at me with an evil grin, laughing. The look on his face was a look of extreme hatred.

"Get up, bitch!" he yelled.

I tried my hardest to get up, but as I slowly stood, the room began to sway and I flopped back down again, causing me to wince from the pain.

He walked toward me, rolled me over onto my side, and continued to scream at me, "Did you hear me? I said get the fuck up, bitch!"

Agonizing pain coursed through my body as he proceeded to kick me, over and over again, repeating the same action in the same spot on my stomach. It hurt so damn much. I was convinced he was wearing steel-capped boots because I could feel something piercing into my abdomen.

Holy shit! My head. My stomach...Oh, God, it hurts. I can't...breathe
. Every breath I tried to take made my head feel like it was going to explode. My abdomen was now cramping up and seizing like a vise from the amount of times he'd brutally kicked me.

"You don't look so beautiful now, do you,
top model
? This is all your fault, goddamn it! All your fucking fault. If you had just signed those papers when I told you to, I wouldn't have to beat the shit out of you now, would I?"

"Fuck. You. Tate Turner. I will...never...never sign over my share of the Sinclair Winery to you. NEVER!" Losing consciousness, I could barely get the words out. The blood continued to drip down my face, and the pain in my abdomen became more excruciating by the minute.

I looked into his eyes. The anger I saw there caused a chill to run up and down my spine. In the past, I had tried, without much success, to avoid him so many times. I knew he was trouble and every time he tried to contact me, I brushed him off. I refused his so-called 'dinner dates'. I returned all the flowers and gifts he'd left for me at my apartment and at all my photo-shoots. He had been stalking me for months. I may be blonde, but I was not stupid. If he thought I was some blonde bimbo model who would sign anything he waved at me, he was wrong.

I knew what he wanted, what he was after: the Sinclair Winery. He'd embezzled most of my father’s money, and now he wanted
my share
of the winery. He was my father’s worst enemy. How the hell had he gotten past security and into my dressing room?

This is it. He's going to kill me.

He dragged me off the floor. The tears rolled down my cheeks from the pain. I could distinctly smell the alcohol on his breath as he put his face up to mine. He stuck out his tongue and licked my face—blood, tears and all; it turned my stomach. I tried to turn away, but he grabbed my jaw and turned my face back to him, causing me to yell out in anguish.

“You're mine now. I'm going to lick you, suck you, and fuck you. You need to be taught a lesson, bitch."

Shit. He's gone absolutely crazy!

"Get...Away...From...Me...You...Sick...Fuck. Don't touch me." With every word I spoke, the pain was worse. Attempting to push him away from me, I tried to find the strength to talk, but I couldn’t. I was dying; I was sure of it.

He pinched my breasts and twisted my nipples through the robe I had changed into after the ceremony. He glided his hands down to my underwear, slipping his thick fingers inside and roughly penetrating me. I could feel his sharp nails scratching the walls of my cervix as he continued to thrust his fingers into me.

"You’re dry. What a shame. The top model isn't wet. Shame. Shame. Shame. I'll get you wet, sweetheart."

His words made my skin crawl. My instant reaction was to spit at him in disgust. Bloodstained saliva dripped down his cheek, and I flinched.

Tate Turner was now totally enraged.
Oh, shit.
His face transformed into something more evil and sinister. I flopped back down onto the floor. He was now ruthless and unstoppable. He lunged for me and grabbed me by my hair, now sticky with blood.

The blow to my head was so hard and quick this time; I never saw it coming, but I sure felt it. I was becoming weaker by the second. My eyes started to roll around in my head. I
was
going to die.

I ached. Everywhere.

I was fading.

Fading away to nothingness.

Blackness.

Silence.

Peace at last.

******

M
y eyes fluttered open. Then they closed again.

I thought I could hear people talking and wondered if was Mia talking to someone. My head felt heavy, so I couldn't quite make out what they were saying very well.

"Look, Ms. Brunetti. When she was brought in last night, the police asked her who did this to her, but she insists she cannot remember her attacker. Your sister won’t or can't tell us what happened. She's suffered severe head trauma. All we know is she was attacked and assaulted by a stranger. We do know she wasn't raped. There is absolutely nothing the police can do if your sister can't remember who did it. I'm sorry, Ms. Brunetti." The sound of her shoes on the tiled floor and a door opening and closing let me know she had left the room.

Sister
?
Why is Mia telling them I'm her sister?

"She can’t remember? Damn it, Jada, wake the fuck up!"

Desperately, I tried to open my eyes again. It was a struggle to keep them open. As I looked at my surroundings, I realised I was in the hospital with Mia holding my hand.

"Hey, kiddo. Finally, you are fully awake!"

"I need your help, Mia," I rasped. My throat felt like it had been scraped with a knife. Maybe it had; I couldn't remember a thing after I passed out. All I could recall was a sense of pure relief; relief that he was gone. I was alive. God knows how, but I survived.

"Look, honey, try not to talk, okay? You look like hell, Jada."

"Thanks," I managed to whisper in a croaky voice.

"I'll go let them know you're awake."

Mia smiled at me before turning to walk out the hospital door to look for a nurse or doctor. She stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “It's all going to be okay now, Jada. We will find out who did this, and he
will
be charged. Once you have your surgery tomorrow, I’ll get you discharged as soon as possible."

"Surgery? What surgery am I having, Mia?" I questioned.

"Listen, Jada, I don't think you understand the extent of your injuries. There is a lot of internal damage and they need to repair it. You can't go anywhere, not just yet, anyway," Mia soothed me, walking back into the room and rubbing my arm affectionately. “I haven’t told anyone, either, Jada. I even had to lie and say I was your sister Milan; otherwise, they would have called your parents. There was no way I was going to let your parents see you like this, Jada. You're a mess. Your parents don’t need this right now.”

God, I loved this girl. We grew up together, and she truly was like another sister to me. Just like my younger sister Milan, only bossy!

“Listen, what if I call my brother, Max, or his friend Zane? Zane is a detective, Jada; he will know what to do and how to find that fucker.” Mia paced around the hospital room, obviously agitated.

"No! Please don’t tell anyone, Mia. Especially not Max,
please
. Nobody can know what happened,
Not one single person,
” I pleaded. “Do you understand me? I’m scared, Mia, scared of what he will do to my family, to me, to you if I go public. I’m a famous model. I can't risk all the publicity I'll receive if this goes public. I can’t do it. I can’t. No one must know, Mia, ever. Please, promise you won’t ever tell anyone, please.”

“Okay, Jada, but please calm yourself down. I love you so much; you’re like the sister I never had. I was so scared when I found you in your dressing room. You have no idea how long I stood there, staring at your bruised and battered body before I called security. I thought you were dead, Jada, DEAD! You scared the shit out of me. I won’t say anything for now, but you are going to tell me who the fucker was that did this to you, and I want to know now!”

“Deal, but for now, I just want to go home, Mia. I need to go home. I have to be around my family. I can't exactly model looking like this anyway, can I?"

"Home? When you say home you mean
home, home
, as in the Barossa, or your apartment here in Sydney?" Mia probed.

“The Barossa. I want to go home, Mia. To the Barossa.”

*****

COMING 4th AUGUST 2014

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