A New Life Series - Starter Kit Read online

  A NEW LIFE

  Starter Kit

  Books 1 - 3 of A New Life Series

  Samantha Jacobey

  Lavish Publishing, LLC ~ Houston

  Captive

  Book 1 of A New Life Series

  Samantha Jacobey

  Lavish Publishing, LLC ~ Houston

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  CAPTIVE. Copyright 2014 ©

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Lavish Publishing, LLC.

  First Edition

  2015 Lavish Publishing, LLC

  Book 1 of A New Life Series

  All Rights Reserved

  Published in the United States by Lavish Publishing, LLC, Houston

  Cover Design by: Nicolene Lorette Design

  Cover Images: SHUTTERSTOCK

  Paperback ISBN

  ISBN 10: 0692024352

  ISBN 13: 978-0692024355

  www.LavishPublishing.com

  .

  Table of Contents

  Awakening

  First Meeting

  Recovery

  A Room with a View

  Step by Step

  Keeping Fit

  Raising a Dragon

  A Walk in the Park

  Into the Darkness

  A Friend in Deed

  Eddie's Girl

  Win or Lose

  To Tell or Not to Tell

  Can't Fool Me

  Short on Time

  Passing the Test

  What's Mine Is Mine

  Out on the Town

  Live While We Can

  Nothing Is Forever

  Coming Clean

  X Marks the Spot

  Walk Softly

  The Last Straw

  Freedom Isn't Free

  Awakening

  Tori lay still, the darkness crushing in around her. She could hear voices, muffled and tense. A slow rhythmical BEEP began to break through the blackness, seeping into her clouded mind. BEEP . . . BEEP . . . BEEP. The air was cold to breathe. BEEP . . . BEEP . . . BEEP. The smell was strange, unfamiliar. The voices, all male, rose and fell, as if in the midst of a quiet, yet heated discussion.

  Eddie? No—it couldn't be Eddie. Eddie is dead. BEEP . . . BEEP . . . BEEP. The soft hum of machines became noticeable. Warm blankets felt heavy lying across her body. BEEP . . . BEEP . . . BEEP. Does she dare move? Where is this place? Am I dead? The first coherent thoughts formed. Lie still. Tori's instincts kicked in. You mustn't draw attention—not yet.

  “Sir, I think she may be regaining consciousness.” A woman's voice spoke. Tori didn't like women. Well, in fact, she really didn't know any. As the hum of the machines continued, she focused on the beeping. Constant . . . Slow . . . Even . . . Pulsing . . . BEEP . . . BEEP . . . BEEP. She could hear the men's voices becoming less muffled, closer, as if within reach.

  Keeping her eyes closed, she lay still and listened, focused on taking deep steady breaths. She hoped to find clues to her location, and maybe a glimpse of how she got there. The voices rumbled on, only small fragments making sense . . . “I’m telling you this girl knows what happened in that house—” (another man's voice cut in) “—and I’m telling you, it’s unlikely we will get anything useful out of her . . .” Tori blinked, unable to control the action. “That's enough you two—she does appear to be rejoining the living,” a third male directed with an authoritative tone.

  Silence followed, broken only by the steady beep and hum of the equipment around her. Slowly, cautiously; Tori allowed her eyes to open and stare blankly at the ceiling. She could see small, round, very dim lights in the drop-ceiling above her. The tiles were square, with the typical white foam spongy pattern. She could hear the breathing of the three men as they stood close to her.

  The man to her right had a raspy breath, huffing a bit more heavily than the others. Tori guessed he was a fat man, but did not dare shift her eyes to check. Lying as if she were made of stone, she stared at the ceiling, willing it to tell her what she needed to know.

  How did I get here? Who are these men? What do they want with me? Slowly, her mind sifted through the words they had spoken . . . the house. They know about the house. Yes. The alcohol—it must not have been enough. A hospital. I’m lying in a hospital. Her thoughts were becoming clearer, and she felt the need to test her situation.

  Quick, silent motion, Tori sat straight up, grabbing the front of the man to her right, clenching his tie and using it to pull him off balance towards the bed rail. Reacting just as quickly, the other two men interceded, grasping her hands and pulling their comrade free of her clutches.

  Pushing her back down onto the bed, one of them spewing a mix of threats and obscenities, they managed to subdue her in her weakened state. Pain stabbed and throbbed in her left arm as Tori realized she had some type of tubing connected to her. She had no real experience with hospitals, and knew she was at a distinct disadvantage. As she lay pressed into the mattress beneath her, she cut her eyes to look at the leader of the group. He was indeed a fat man, with a round face, red from their struggle.

  “Just relax,” one of the men soothed. “My name is Eli Founder. No one here is going to harm you.” He had positioned himself above her, hands pushing down firmly on her shoulders so that he could look her square in the face. He paused for several minutes, waiting for her breathing to slow to normal. Then, he continued, “Can you tell me your name?”

  “My name?” Tori spoke the words just above a whisper, her thoughts running wild, they don't know who I am?

  Eli nodded, “You were naked when you were found, with no ID.” He stared down into her eyes, waiting patiently for her answer. He noticed they were crystal blue, and for a moment he thought they looked like deep pools that would swallow him if he were to fall in.

  “They call me Tori,” she stammered, unsure how to explain or elaborate any further. He leaned close enough she could smell the gel in his smooth coal black hair.

  “Tori, that's good,” Eli half smiled. “That matches an ID found in the house and believed to belong to you. Tori Farrell.” She cringed as he spoke. The scar that crossed her left eye felt heavy with him staring at it. Slowly, the pressure from his hands eased as he used a low, even tone, “I’m going to let go now, but you mustn't struggle. No one wants to hurt you. We’re here to help.”

  Tori could feel the hands release as he pulled away from her, but she did not make another move. Lying still, she allowed her eyes to flit around to each of the men, trying to get a grasp on the moment. The one she had grappled with was straightening his tie and trying to smooth his crumpled suit. He was shorter than the others, weaker. He would have gone down easily if not for his friends.

  The third man, the tallest, had dark hair and squinty eyes. “Who are you guys?” she finally asked.

  Again, Eli spoke in his low, patronizing voice, “I’m Special Agent Eli Founder. This gentleman,” he indicated the tall man, “This is my partner, Special Agent Warren La Buff.”

  The fat man quickly spoke up, his tone sharp, “I'm not rea
lly important right now. I’ll leave you two to it.” He gave his fellow agents a quick nod as he made a hasty exit from the barren chamber.

  Tori stared at the remaining men in wonder and disbelief. Again surrounded by the constant steady beep of the machines, she could see that she was bound to them by a series of wires and tubes. Although the two men shared the cramped space, she felt more alone then, than she had ever been before.

  She lay silently in the hospital bed, glaring at the two men in suits, waiting for them to begin. The chill of the room made her conscious of her flimsy clinic attire, and she felt grateful for the blankets that warmed her and hid what lay beneath.

  Patiently she waited, wondering what they knew about her; if they knew what her life had been, or if they had seen the scars that told the story she was loath to share. If they were expecting the silence to unnerve her, they would have a long wait. Tori was accustomed to discomfort, and it was the things most people would call normal that scared her most.

  Finally, Eli spoke in a soft, comforting voice, “Ok Tori, we understand you have been through quite an ordeal, but it’s time for you to share what you know with us. It’s important you tell us everything you can remember. Let's start with your name. We noticed that there were two men in the house also named Farrell, Edward and Gerald. Are you in some way related to either or both of those men? Please, tell us anything you can remember about them.”

  Tori lay silent for several minutes, considering what she knew about Eddie and Red, as they were better known, Farrell. She had known the two men as long as she could remember. As her thoughts turned and skimmed through her memories, she realized the word known was not nearly adequate to describe their relationship.

  Eddie had called her his most prized possession, and in many ways in fact, he had owned her, using her as he had pleased, bending her to his will. Finally, she found a small, seemingly safe detail she could share. “Eddie and Red were brothers.”

  “Yes, identical twins,” Eli responded with a small nod, “And their relationship to you?” He noticed she said they were brothers, not are brothers, so she’s aware that they are dead.

  Again, Tori took her time, searching for the right words. As her mind wandered, it occurred to her that she had not spoken to anyone other than the Dragons in a very long time, years in fact. Not since Eddie had given her the scar that crossed her left eye, the one intended to keep strangers at bay. “Eddie claimed to be my father,” she eventually replied.

  The tall agent, La Buff, stood stone faced, almost angry in expression, waiting for his moment to pounce on the conversation. Eli agreed that her response was logical, “But why would you say he claimed to be?” And just like that, they had arrived at the parts Tori would give anything not to talk about.

  She remained silent, blinking slowly. She allowed her mind to sift through the years she had been with Eddie Farrell. She had spent her whole life with him and the other Dragons. They had taught her everything they knew, and that is why she had eventually broken free; because they had built her to be strong.

  Eventually, La Buff could wait no longer, his biting words cutting through the chill, “You can lay there and blink all you want—we know what happened in that house, and we know what you did to those men.”

  Eli instantly stiffened, turning his head sharply to scowl at his partner. Tori appeared less shocked by the scathing torrent and welcomed the freedom his words afforded her. With the truth already out, she had nothing to fear in claiming it.

  “You found my knife then, I take it?” inside she allowed herself a small sigh of relief, but on the outside her features remained placid.

  “We did,” La Buff barked.

  “Good,” Tori's voice became stronger, her confidence growing, “Then you should know Eddie gave me that knife. Had my name engraved on it and taught me how to use it very well. I spent my whole life with them, long as I can remember. In the end, I used what they taught me against them, and they got what they deserved.”

  With that, Tori closed her eyes, and her chest began to rise and fall in deep, steady waves of comfort. She had known pain, and there was nothing they could do to her that had not been done before. The conversation was over, whether the men in suits liked it or not.

  First Meeting

  As Eli Founder left the hospital room, he could feel the anger welling inside him. Warren La Buff walked smugly beside him, pleased he had put his foot down during the interrogation. “How could you do that?” Founder erupted furiously. “How could you stand there and speak to her that way knowing what the committee has decided?”

  “I never agreed with what the committee decided,” La Buff answered flatly, then turned sharply into the stairwell and allowed the door to close behind him.

  Eli stood stunned for a moment at his partner's hasty exit, briefly considering a pursuit to continue the argument. Thinking better of it, he headed towards the vending machines in the waiting room. As he walked, Eli thought about the meeting that had taken place only one short day before, and the events that had led up to it.

  Things had been fairly chaotic since the discovery of eleven dead men in a farmhouse, but they were not directly the reason for the meeting. The committee had been formed to discuss the other body found in the dwelling—that of a girl. Dropping in a few coins, he chose his cup of java, while he appraised the events of the last twenty-four hours.

  Agent Founder had not been privy to any details prior to the meeting. As they had entered the conference room, everyone's mood had seemed eerily somber, and at the time he was unclear as to exactly how he and his partner had drawn the assignment. Everyone took their seats, and he noticed that some of the participants were not actually agents at all.

  Special Agent James Godfry, head of their division, would preside over the meeting and called everyone to order with his customary throat clearing and a wave of his hand. A short, heavy man, James Godfry had been with the bureau almost three decades and had seen many things, too many things he sometimes suspected. But this case took even him by surprise.

  “Good morning everyone, and thank you all for being here on such short notice,” Godfry began to read from the case file in his deep, round voice. “Before we begin, I must inform and or remind everyone that everything that is discussed here today is classified top secret in the interests of national security. Although some details have become the knowledge of parties outside of this committee, they have likewise been instructed not to discuss the matter with anyone. This committee is being formed to oversee and conduct an investigation into the incident that occurred in Iowa two days ago. We will then evaluate its connection to the investigation code named Castleford.”

  Immediately, Eli's heart rate jumped at the name of the ugliest case he had ever been involved in; a case that had cost him a partner by the time it ended. Shifting anxiously in his seat, he listened closely as Special Agent Godfry continued. “As far as background, the Castleford case moved to the cold case files three years ago after an Agent working on the investigation was murdered and all leads basically evaporated. Allow me to give you details on the current situation, and then we will discuss the connection between the two.”

  “Two days ago, at approximately eleven pm local time, a farmer in Iowa called the local sheriff's office to report that a group of roughly a dozen hooligans on motorcycles had invaded his neighbor's house—a neighbor he knew to be out of town and not expected to return for several days. The sheriff chose to wait until the next morning before taking action. Shortly after sunrise, he and his three deputies moved in, hoping the crew had moved on ahead of them. When they arrived at the scene, they discovered that the group had, in fact, not moved on, and upon entering the residence discovered an extremely gruesome scene. They found the bodies of eleven men and one woman.” Here, Godfry gave pause to allow everyone to process the information before continuing.

  “Upon quick inspection, the sheriff and his men noted that all of the men were, in fact, deceased and that the female, althou
gh alive, barely so, and they had her transported to the local hospital where they treated her for severe alcohol poisoning. After stabilizing her, they placed her in ICU under police supervision, and we were contacted.” Again, Godfry gave a brief pause as several of the attendees began to shift in their chairs as they listened.

  “Once we were apprised of the situation, we had the still unconscious female transferred to one of the Mercy Hospital affiliates here in Chicago, where we have kept her sedated until we are ready to question her as to her involvement in and knowledge of the events that occurred in Iowa two days ago.”

  At this pause, a gentleman to Godfry's right cleared his throat and took the opportunity to put forth a question, “So what does this have to do with Castleford?”

  “Maybe nothing,” Godfry stated matter-of-factly, “Maybe everything. Two of the bodies found in the house were directly named in the Castleford investigation. That is why this committee has been formed—to deal with the girl and use her to get some answers if at all possible.”

  Eli decided the time had come for him to speak up, “So what exactly does, 'deal with the girl' mean? Is she a witness? Is she a surviving victim? Is she the perpetrator of the murders? I mean, what are we looking at here?”

  “Those are all very good questions,” praised Godfry, “And we will be working within this group to determine all of those things. We will not do so in a short amount of time by any means. This is going to take some effort to sort out. Right now, I feel it might be more beneficial to hear from Dr. Bennet. If you would please, sir; give us your evaluation of this young woman and her standing in this situation.”

  “Well, firstly, I’m not sure I would call her a woman,” began Dr. Bennet. “This girl has been thoroughly examined and after considering several factors, I can strongly conclude that she is no more than fifteen years of age, probably less, and has one of the most severely battered bodies that I have ever seen.” He didn’t look at Special Agent Godfry as he rendered his assessment, knowing this would be the grounds they would use to control the young woman if need be.