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Surrender
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Devine
Surrender, Book 1
Copyright © 2015 D.H.Sidebottom
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the Author.
This book is the work of fiction any resemblance to any person alive or dead is purely coincidental. The characters and story are created from the Author’s imagination. Any shared files without the author’s permission will be subject to prosecution.
WARNING
DEDICATION
QUOTE
PROLOGUE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-THREE
THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FIVE
THIRTY-SIX
THIRTY-SEVEN
THIRTY-EIGHT
THIRTY-NINE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
OTHER BOOKS
DAWN'S LINKS
Warning.
This title has dark themes that some people may find offensive. If you have rape or murder triggers then best to back away from your kindle now.
WE ARE JUST FISH.
Life is a river, pushing us forward whether we want to go or not. It’s full of rocks and dangers, big fish that want to eat us and little fish that can manipulate us and take what they want from us. Every storm upsets the way it flows, every drop of rain swelling and feeding it; even the sun sucks the life out of it. It branches off into streams and rivulets, leading us to different points, the current fighting with us and making us work for our goals. But eventually, if we battle hard enough, we will all get to the ocean, the journey’s end where we were always meant to be, where we can all nestle down into the seabed and take comfort in its protection and security.
Some of us see things that happen to us as fate, destiny, or a certain way of making sure our future pans out the way those higher than us intended.
In a way I agree with that. But I always saw it as planning one’s future. With each little decision we take a pathway to whichever destination we’re heading towards. We don’t hold our own choices. That is charged to some invisible force inside us, persecuting us for our past sins, or sometimes, if we’re lucky, rewarding us when it deems fit.
For a while, I accepted my fate, throughout its many ups and downs. I went with it, accepted it even if it broke me on its passage. We take what we are given and we go with it. It is what was meant for us and I accepted that. My past moulds who I am today, defines my future, and I allowed it to do that. I received what fate gave me and I never argued.
Until him. Until The Devine Intervention, as I call it. At the time I was sure it was fate that led me to him. However, fate, that day, decided to play its cruellest trick. It set me on another path, one that would test everything I was. One that would take everything I thought good and destroy it. One that directed me to only one place.
The hell that controlled his heart.
I GRITTED MY TEETH, staring down at the gape in the front of my crisp white blouse, the top button ‘conveniently’ missing and allowing the swell of my breasts to show. Why me? Why all the time was it me that someone decided to play a trick on? That someone being Raquel. Bitch.
I caught her smug smirk. Not giving her the satisfaction, I dipped my fingers in and plumped up my breasts, making sure that my pale flesh showed a little more, the shirt and my bra barely doing much for my meagre B cups anyway.
I winked at her and gave her a sickly sweet smile. My nerves were fraying though. I knew she’d get her own back. That was how Raquel worked. Everyone at Gregoria’s Cuisine where I worked as a waitress hated her. She was cruel and enjoyed the misery of others.
“Ignore her,” Leah, my colleague and best friend, whispered from behind me.
I shook my head as I turned to face her. “Bitch snipped the top button off my shirt.”
Leah quirked a brow, a perfectly groomed and straight brow, and smirked, her eyes flicking down towards my chest. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing there to spill out.”
I narrowed my eyes and was about to respond with something just as bitchy when Vince, my boss, cleared his throat.
“Girls.” All heads in the line turned towards him, giving him our attention like he deserved.
Vince was lovely, old, round and as happy as the smile he always wore. He was head of house at the exclusive restaurant I worked at, and occasionally, like tonight, we catered to the high and mighty and their private parties.
“The host, Mr Devine, is a personal friend of Mr Gregoria. He is our most important client. You need to be sharp, polite and extremely . . .” he paused, shifting as if uncomfortable, “ . . . obliging.”
I stiffened, turning my face to the side so Leah could hear my whisper. “What does extremely obliging mean?” I asked Leah, who snorted.
“Babe. Mr Devine is the highest of the high. He wants something from you then you give it him.”
I shrugged. I’d never met the infamous Mr Devine but I wondered what type of man deserved this much hype. “Well, like what?”
“Oh,” Raquel piped up with her high-pitched squeal before Leah could answer me. “I’ll oblige anything he wants.” A round of groans went through the line of twelve waitresses. “What?” she squawked, shifting her shoulders back. “That man takes after his name. Have you seen him?” She sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. “Absolutely divine.”
“Christ!” Trisha mumbled from the front of the line. “There’s nothing holy about you!”
A round of sniggers went round but Raquel seemed oblivious as she plucked out her own cleavage.
The line moved and we all collected our trays as we marched up a long corridor and into a huge room.
My gaze snapped to every corner. It was dark and depressing. Deep reds and blacks decorated the walls, the furniture just as dreary even if it was opulent. Something about the place seemed off; cold and foreboding. A shiver raked through me, causing the gold tray I held to vibrate and spill a little of the champagne from their flutes.
Trisha, the head waitress, lifted a brow at me from her position a few yards in front of me. I smiled back apologetically. She gave me a nod before she disappeared into the group of men.
I frowned, scanning the area. Roughly forty men, all dressed in perfectly tailored suits, stood in random groups. Small men, tall men, fat men and thin men, gingers, blondes, ugly and handsome, they all stood around chattering, laughing and nodding to each other. That was until the line of twelve waitresses walked in.
Each head turned to study us, each pair of eyes slowly gliding over each one of us. Another shiver belted through me as my heart rate escalated. It felt as though I’d just walked into the dragon’s den.
Get a grip, Isla!
I blew out a breath and did my job, smiling politely and tipping my head respectfully as I fed myself through the crowd and delivered their refreshments.
My mouth was dry, my nerves hiking further when I caught the hungry gazes on their faces. I felt naked, stripped and I regretted my earlier decision to plump up my boobs.
&nbs
p; “Thank you, sweetheart.” “Why thank you, sugar.” “Wow, service with a pretty smile.” They were all polite but what they actually said with their mouths was the total opposite of what their eyes said. They feasted on me, the reflection of how they really wanted to dine on me in their beady little gazes.
I thanked the heavens when someone snatched up my last glass and I ducked out of the room, making my way back to the kitchens.
“Everything going okay?” Vince asked when I virtually fell through the door. I nodded and smiled. “Good.” He nodded firmly. “The first round of Hors d’oeuvres are ready for going out.”
I stared at him. “Umm, I’m feeling a little lightheaded, Vince. I’ll just help out in here.”
His eyes widened and he puffed out a breath, slowly shaking his head. “No chance, Isla. I need you out there.” He pushed a tray full of prawn baskets into my hand and swept his arm towards the door again.
Grumbling under my breath, I curled my lip and ventured back in, smiling to another couple of waitresses as I passed them. Each looked as dishevelled as me as they made their way back to replenish their own trays.
Realising I was the first in the room with food made my heart stop. All forty men sniffed, catching the scent of what was teetering precariously on my tray, the shaking of my hand prompting the glistening prawns to slide to one end.
Unable to do anything but brace myself as they flocked towards me, I prayed and stood firm as various hands reached in and snatched at my offering until just twenty seconds later I stood, gawping at the empty tray.
A chuckle behind me made me jump. Spinning round I came face to chest with a tall column of muscle. When my eyes found his face, a huge toothy grin greeted me. “Are you okay? You look a little frazzled.”
I snapped my mouth closed and stared at him with wide eyes. “I think they were hungry.”
He laughed and nodded. “Like vultures, aren’t they?” His eyes dropped to the tray and he sighed.
Sensing his disappointment I smiled at him. “I’ll go and reload then I’ll come find you before anyone else manages to swipe them.”
He beamed at me, the twinkle in his deep blue eyes making my own smile widen. “Thank you, honey.”
I nodded and hurried back. This time a tray of miniature French toast and pate was shoved at me by one of the kitchen staff, Vince’s hands swiftly turning me by the shoulders and pushing me back out of the door before I could take a breath.
When I returned I couldn’t see him, he’d disappeared into the mass and with all of them wearing virtually the same clothes, he was impossible to spot.
I was suddenly being rounded on again, and panicking, I darted towards the edge of the room. It was like something out of a cartoon, me rushing round the edge of the room in my six inch heels and a string of suited, hungry men chasing after me.
Spotting my target in the middle of a group of four, I dashed towards him.
You know what’s coming don’t you? Yep. Flat on my face, my stupid heels catching in the depth of the luxury carpet. The tray of toast and pate launched high, then as with anything that attempted to fly without wings, it dropped back down and slapped one of the suited men in the back, the food grabbing onto the expensive material before the pate slid down in a thick gloop.
The room completely silenced and everything, even the air, stilled. I lifted my face from the thickness of the carpet and watched in horror as his big body stiffened. His back heaved, his shoulders drawing towards his wide neck before slowly, so very slowly, he turned around and glared down at me like he wanted to wring my scrawny neck.
I cringed when I heard Raquel’s snort just behind me. However it wasn’t her that had me too terrified to move. Oh no. It was him. Jake Devine.
My eyes widened.
Holy. Shit.
This was never the guy I went to college with. This man wasn’t the Jake Devine who had sat in the corner at every lecture, his deep dark eyes refusing to make contact with anyone else. This wasn’t the Jake Devine who had never uttered a word to anyone but his best friend, or as we’d thought at the time, his lover, Kris. This wasn’t the Jake who had once cornered me in a classroom, his thin body pressing hard against me while his haunted eyes spat immense hatred at me after I’d accidently found his pen on the floor and innocently claimed it as my own. This wasn’t the Jake who had been thrown out of college for fighting. But not just any fighting, he’d hospitalised Dwaine Tyler, almost killing him. Nobody had ever found out why but to me the why didn’t matter, I held a very unsettling distaste for Dwaine, he always made crude comments to me and taunted me with walking too close, touching me at any opportunity. He left my insides humming with a need to scrub myself from the inside out so I’d thoroughly stuck up for Jake after he’d gone. I was never friends with Jake, he always appeared unapproachable even on the occasions I was sure I caught him staring at me in class but Dwaine had deserved everything that Jake had dished out. I had my own reasons for believing that, even before everything that was to come.
“Jake?” My voice was tight and high, the shock and horror gnawing at my vocal chords.
He blinked for a second, confusion flickering across his face before he snapped back to his previous fuming expression.
“You stupid . . .” His teeth clashed together, his jaw twitching with immense pressure.
Oh Christ, maybe he hadn’t changed so much. Although, damn, his bloody physique had. He was tall now, the expanse of his muscles straining his jacket as his pecs filled out his expensive attire. His narrow hips led to long, thick thighs. My gaze wandered back up, my mouth falling open at how extremely good-looking he had become. His face appeared more contoured, his cheekbones jagged and covered in fashionable stubble. His jaw was strong and sculptured, his lips pale but sinfully plump. His rich brown hair was short but fell a little over his forehead.
Yet it was his eyes that held me in his scrutiny. The simmering green I had always remembered now appeared to be olive, a paleness to them that made him look as wicked as the heated glare he gave me.
“Jake?” I tried again as I scrambled upright, probably flashing my white cotton knickers to the room in the unladylike move. “It’s me, Isla Cormack.”
He stared at me, cold and furious.
“You remember,” I blathered on. “We had class together.”
He took a single step towards me. I took one back as I witnessed the look of utter disgust on his face.
The guy I had been bringing food for suddenly stepped forward and grabbed Jake’s arm. He stilled but didn’t move his eyes from my face. “Let go, Adam.”
My eyes widened at his chilling tone.
“Chill out, Jake. It was an accident. I’m sure the sweet little thing is sorry.” Adam looked at me as he spoke, urging me with his eyes to apologise as he gestured with a faint nod.
What the hell? Who the hell was Jake now? What made him so bloody righteous that everyone had to bow down to him? It was an accident, anyone could see that.
I narrowed my eyes, suddenly fuming. “What? Well, of course I’m sorry. I didn’t bloody propel myself across the room on purpose. Your suit is nice, it doesn’t need any more colour.” I knew I was making a mistake but I couldn’t shut my trap. “The dark grey suits you. You know, depressing and tedious.”
Adam’s eyes widened, shock aborting his previous smile but then his face screwed up and his lips disappeared behind his teeth. He turned round, his shoulders heaving as he tried to silence his laughter.
I thought Jake was going to launch himself at me. His body seemed to brace itself, his muscles as tight as his face.
I huffed when Trisha rushed towards us, and I rolled my eyes. Lifting up a hand to her when she reached me, I swallowed back my despair and lifted my chin, my eyes locked on the beast that wanted to devour me in a single bite. “I apologise for your suit, Mr Devine. If you would care to let Vince have it, I will make sure it is cleaned and returned to you.” Ignoring his blink, I turned back to Trisha. “I know. I’m out.
”
Her bright red face was nothing to Raquel’s when I wobbled past them, realising my heel had snapped in the fall. If I’d been one of the guests I would have been rolling on the floor with the sight that hobbled past. My hair had fallen from its bun, the wayward curls refusing anything I asked of them. The next button on my blouse had popped off, showing the top of my plain and boring bra. A ladder had run all the way up my stocking, in fact, scrap that, it was a wide rip, and my body lifted and fell as I limped away.
Valerie, one of the elder waitresses gave me a sympathetic smile as she waited in the foyer with my jacket. She didn’t say anything as I smiled my thanks and took it from her then grabbed my bag when she passed me that too.
I bent and removed my shoes when I closed the front door behind me and ventured down the one-mile gravel driveway to my clapped out Corsa.
As I pulled out of the drive, I saw Raquel on the porch, her sneer gleeful as she saluted me with two fingers and turned, shutting the door behind her.
“WHAT ABOUT THIS ONE?” Leah coughed to clear her throat. “Cleaner wanted. Flexible hours. Meets minimum wage.”
I quirked a brow at her. She nodded in surrender, probably picturing the state of my bedroom floor and her constant need to tidy round after me.
“Ooh.” Her lips twitched. “Busty blonde wanted for ‘intimate’ job. We could dye your hair and fill your bra with chicken fillets.”
“Are you serious?” I scoffed, snatching the newspaper out of her hand. But sure enough, there was the advert, a red ring around it where Leah had circled it with her pen. “I can’t believe someone would actually advertise for that!”
“Babe, they advertise for anything. Listen to this. Driver needed to transport escorts to and from various appointments. Must be well presented and open-minded.”
I pursed my lips. “I could do that.”
I scowled at her when she laughed loudly. “Must be open-minded,” she repeated. “Their definition of open-minded doesn’t mean some psychobabble shit, Isla. It means don’t tut at what these ladies do in the back seat of your car with their appointment for that night.”