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  Lost

  Copyright © 2016 Ker Dukey & D.H Sidebottom

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the Authors.

  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

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Warning

  Dedication

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Epilogue

  Ten

  The Decimation of Mae

  People who make it happen

  Author Links

  Warning

  This book is Dark erotica.

  This book contains abusive and sexual situations that some may find offensive. There are various detailed scenes. Some may be upsetting. If you are sensitive to graphic violence read with caution.

  For Our Dark Angels

  Summer has always been my favorite time of year, my mother must have known when naming me that I would seek out the sun. I craved the glow of its warm embrace on my face from as far back as I can remember.

  I also worshiped the feel of sand between my toes, the damp, soft touch as the weight of my body shifts the sand beneath them, the tips of the crashing waves teasing me with the cold promise of what the water holds. I even love the smell of the sun lotion soaking into my skin. But my most favorite part of summer was that we always spent it together as a family and most of those days were spent at the beach. One of my favorite sounds in the whole world is the laughter of my big sister as she gives chase to me, scooping me up and spinning me around until we’re both dizzy, the breeze sweeping our hair up and curling it weightless in the air like a floating leaf in autumn. The world distorting with each rotation until it’s just us two in a whirlwind of innocence… of joy.

  Those are the memories I go to, I hold on to, with a grip so fierce it numbs the reality of what my body is actually going through.

  I didn’t see my life ending up here…

  All those dreams and possibilities, and now I would be remembered as just another statistic.

  All the warnings from education, from Mom and my big sister, Winter, and yet I still find myself here… Stolen… Lost.

  Will they even look for me?

  I look at the young girl, battered and bruised in the bathtub, slung in there like garbage, her body broken, used up and destroyed. Matted hair that was once soft to touch, scabby lips that were once plump and pink, bruised skin that was once flawless.

  Violated in ways no girl of her age should ever have to suffer.

  Eyes wide, glassed over - Dead.

  This was my fate.

  ‘Another body has been discovered in what police are now calling, ‘The Angel Killings.’ The police have now confirmed it is the body of missing schoolgirl, Jessica Wilson. The gruesome discovery was made by a grieving husband visiting the grave of his late wife in the early hours of yesterday morning. West Hope graveyard is close to the site in which the body of Megan Hall’s remains were discovered only four weeks ago. This brings the death toll up to six. The police are warning this is the work of a serial killer who targets teenage girls between the ages of fourteen and nineteen.’

  I slam my hand down on the radio, what a thing to wake up to? Those poor girls being robbed of their lives by some sick bastard. Serial killers are their own kind of breed, not human but wear a human face to lure their prey. They had a sickness inside them that they liked to let out to roam the world not equipped for such demons. Most serial killers will tell you they can’t control the need to kill, but that isn’t true, some go through their whole life with the urge to kill but don’t act upon it. Others just don’t want to fight that urge.

  The bright red flashing numbers staring back at me cause me to jolt upright. Crap, my alarm is an hour late. Damn Jake for making us stay at my place instead of his. Scrambling to get everything I need ready, I toss it all into the car and make my way to the college.

  I forgot to get eggs. Crap.

  I have to get out of here, why does he have to be so in-depth all of the time?

  “Don’t forget your assignments are due Monday, so less partying and more studying over the weekend.” He points into the crowd, his familiar smirk eliciting an applause of giggles from the females.

  Thank God he’s finished. I have three hours to get home, bake Summer’s cake and be on the road for a two-hour drive home to make it for her birthday tomorrow.

  Maybe I should buy the cake? It would be easier, but not as personal. Shit.

  “Hello beautiful,” he greets me as I make my way to the front of his classroom.

  “Professor Young.” I coyly smile before being snatched up into his arms.

  “You know I love it when you call me that.”

  I smack at his shoulders playfully. “That’s because you’re a naughty professor,” I tease. In actual fact he was a kinky pervert, and I liked it. He would often bring me to his lecture room to play teacher/student role-play games. He has a thing for smacking bare skin with his projector stick - No, I’m not referring to his cock as that, I mean the stick he uses to point to shit on the board. He loves that thing, and I loved the sting it brought when he spanked my ass with it.

  I look him over and lick my lips. His brown hair, swept back from his forehead, causes a need in me to run my hand through it, to feel the silky strands through my fingertips. His eyes are like chocolate drops in a pool of caramel, fixed on me with an intensity that makes it difficult to breathe under.

  “I woke up late!” I announce and he smirks knowingly at me.

  “I should have called to make sure you got up.”

  “You need to hurry up and have that en-suite of yours remodeled already.”

  “They came but condemned it, apparently is has toxic mold so will be out of bounds for a while.”

  “It’s a good job you have another then,” I quip and his wicked grin sends excitement through me. “Are you sure you can’t come with me? Summer was looking forward to meeting you.” I ask. But mainly think of the road trip sex we could have if he just agreed to come with me.

  “She’s turning fifteen, Snowflake, she won’t care if I’m there. She’ll be too busy chatting about boys with her girlfriends.”

  I hate that he calls me Snowflake just because my name is Winter. I also hate that he has an opinion about Summer before even meeting her. My brow furrows and my sex mood instantly shifts into pissed off, which is usually his role in the sex game, not mine.

  I pull back from his embrace. “She’s not like that, she’s a young fifteen. She’s more interested in books and education.”

  His laugh irritates me further. He’s a professor for God sake, surely he doesn’t think all fifteen-year-old girls are only interested in boyfriends and gossiping. I was overprotective of Summer but I had my reasons, we’d been through a lot before life changed for us.

  He appears to notice my mood shift and tries to pull me back t
owards him. “I’m sorry. Fine she’s not like that. But either way, babe, I can’t come with you, I have a heavy workload.”

  “Yeah okay, fine. I need to take off so I’ll call you.”

  Before I can escape he grabs my arm and smothers me with his body, his lips crashing over mine and demanding entry into my mouth. I open for him, allowing our tongues to duel. I bite down on his lip and my pussy throbs when he growls in response. The best thing about Professor Jake Young, he was amazing in bed and fed my appetite. If it weren’t for his rougher side I would never have dated him. I was training to become a police officer, well hopefully a profiler FBI agent eventually. Two years into my academy training when I was walking home after a thirteen-hour training course I discovered Jake trying to give mouth to mouth to a young girl he had pulled from a small lake near to where I lived. I took over compressions but she couldn’t be saved. She was eighteen and had been drinking. She must have fallen into the lake, and the weight of her clothes and the bitter temperature of the water had overwhelmed her, she was gone way before he pulled her out. I found him at the same spot each night thereafter and we bonded from the tragedy - Fucking your feelings would have been a better term but it grew into more.

  “I have to go,” I breathe against his lips.

  “I need to fuck you before you go.” He spins me around and forces my head down on his desk with a firm hand tangled in my hair.

  I try to stand but his strength is no match for mine and I just like the force he has to use, so I test him, I know he likes it when I struggle. My jeans are yanked down with my panties and he’s ramming inside me and causing a whimper from my lips before I can speak another word. I’m wet for him but with my legs being almost together made the tight fit sting with his rude entry. His hips thrust so hard against me the desk moves from the force and screeches into the empty room.

  “Fuck, you’re always fucking tight, Snowflake. I fucking love your cunt.” His hand is heavy on my head as his other hand slaps at my exposed ass cheeks. My heart’s beating a mile a minute knowing anyone can just walk in and catch us. The pinch of the wood against my stomach hurts but the feel of him stroking my insides overrules everything else. His heavy, thick cock plows into me over and over, leaving a trail of our warm juices down my inner thighs. The sound of his cock in my wet cunt heightens the erotic sounds around us.

  My moans gain momentum and echo in the room around us, bouncing off the walls and the open span of the auditorium. His hand leaves my head and smothers my mouth as his other hand grabs for the projector stick. “You’re supposed to be quiet in class.”

  The kiss of the thin metal slicing through the air hisses out before striking the exposed flesh of my ass. The pain burns a fire and I know I will have the striped bruises again as he hits me again and again while berating me for being a bad girl.

  I can’t breathe and almost lose consciousness as I come wildly around his shaft when he spills inside me and loosens his hold.

  I claw at the air, sucking it into my body and bringing me down from the high. I jerk from the tug of him ripping my panties from my body and using them to clean up the mess we made.

  He comes around his desk and slips the panties into a drawer before slapping my ass again, causing me to flinch from the soreness already there after his rough fucking. “You get an A+, now get out of my classroom.”

  There’s a sinking hole growing inside my stomach and I can’t put my finger on what it is. Did I forget something? Cake… bought. Gift… wrapped and in my suitcase. Suitcase… in the trunk.

  I blink, shaking my head with a heavy sigh at the heaviness in my gut. I hate being unprepared, especially not knowing what I’m supposed to be prepared for in the first place. My lips are chewed through as my teeth have gnawed on them the entire drive up. But still, even though I’m nearly home, my brain is still refusing to kick in and tell me what the hell I have forgot.

  I pull onto my childhood street and finally smile. Home. My body at long last starts to relax, and my lungs seem a little more cooperative.

  My parents had lived here for thirty three years and the whole street was like an extended family. We knew them and they knew us. We all babysat one another and we all gave gifts and cards at Christmas. Our street wasn’t like most; it was a community. I can admit now I am older that it used to grate on every one of my damn nerves, especially being a teenager and not being able to have a secret from your parents because one of the neighbors was sure to hear about what you’d been up to. But the benefits far outweighed the bad and being such a tightknit group definitely had its upsides. It was all I ever wanted for Summer, a real home, a real family, so it didn’t matter that I had to bend a little to stay with her. This street was perfect and looked after each other. No one had ever caused any other a problem, we all got on like a family. So when half the street was standing on our front lawn and a police car was parked on the drive my insides twist, nearly causing my lunch to come up.

  I pull over quickly and jump from the car as my eyes fix on my home and dread starts to peel my skin away from my cold body. People move like a parting sea as a haze shrouds me. My ears buzz as all noise becomes a dull humming. Every single pair of eyes slowly move to me, some trying to shield their faces but still stare as some blatantly force pitying looks on me. With each desperate step toward the front door of my parents’ home my heart thuds louder in my ears and my stomach tightens further.

  The door gives under my hand. I’ve opened this door a million times but never before did it feel so heavy or rough under the touch of my palm. There’s something in the air, something suffocating and cold – bleak. It makes my body shiver and my eyes want to look to the sun in case I never witness the heat or brightness of it again. Despair lays thick on my tongue, the taste of fear a bitter tang in my mouth.

  I walk into the living room to find police officers surrounding my parents. My eyes move slowly from them to my parents and then back again. “What’s going on?” My voice is shaky, my throat constricted with panic as I instantly scan the room for Summer.

  All heads turn to look at me and I feel the force of grief in the room hit me like a wall of smog. My feet stumble back with the weight of it, my heart, for a second, stuttering to cope with the crush within me.

  “Winter, oh thank God, is she with you?” Mom comes barrelling towards me looking around me, her terrified eyes wide and wet as she searches the air to the back of me.

  “Who? What’s going on?”

  Summer.

  Tears burst like a dam from her eyes and she crumbles to the floor, her tall, lithe body folding in on itself. Panic sets in and my blood knows she means Summer; my whole soul knows she means Summer.

  I ignore the fear. I refuse it entry, beating away the truth of it. “Dad, where’s Summer?”

  He tries to grab me but I don’t want to be held. I want to know what the hell’s going on. I pull from him and demand, “Where is Summer?”

  “I’m so sorry,” Mom is wailing over and over. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  I don’t want her sorrys, I want my sister.

  “Miss Kelly, could you come and sit down and answer a few questions for us?”

  I hold my hand up to the officer talking and demand a reply from Dad. “Tell me where my sister is?”

  “She’s missing, Winter. We thought she was sleeping so we didn’t go in and check on her this morning before we left for work.” His voice is gruff, his own dread cloaking his usual soft tone. “But when we got home her door was still closed, so your mom went inside. Her bed hadn’t been slept in since the night before.”

  I shake my head … No. “How do you know it wasn’t slept in? She always makes her bed.” Summer liked everything pristine and tidy, the first thing she did in the morning was make her bed. I was the same way, I hated mess and often over-cleaned my place.

  “The laundry your mother put there the night before was still on her bed, untouched.” He can barely look at me, his eyes moving down my body as though it
’s painful for him to make eye contact. She would have put that away straight away… Did she go to school yesterday? Did she even come home…? How many hours is that?

  “Why haven’t you called me?” I can’t find the strength to shout like I so want to. My chest is heaving as bile torments my throat.

  The officer who spoke before steps towards me with an arm outstretched. “We have been trying to contact you Ma’am.”

  I rummage through my purse and pull out my cell, it’s dead. I search my mind for the last time I checked it and can’t recall getting any calls or texts since yesterday evening. Fuck.

  I bolt and run to Summer’s room, pushing open the bedroom door. My breathing is heavy as my vision swims before me. This cannot be happening. I scan her room for any clue that she’s been here since yesterday and that this is all a misunderstanding.

  Summer’s scent infuses with my own, wrapping around me and drowning me in her familiarity. “Where are you?” I murmur.

  “It’s not like her, something must have happened.”

  I hear my father’s voice, the absolute conviction he speaks to the police with. I hear his despair. I hear his heartache. But most of all I feel the self-belief of his failure.

  The truth was he was more of a father to me than I’d ever known before him. I didn’t know my birth father but they were both my adoptive parents, mine and Summer’s. Only Summer was too young to fully remember the hell we lived through to make it here and even though I know they’re in pain and confused as much as me I feel alone in my pain and angry at them for letting this happen. Irrational… Yes, but she was all I had and I endured things no girl should ever have to keep her safe… to get her here.

  WHERE ARE YOU?

  She was just turning seven when the amazing people who we call parents came into our lives and adopted us both. Do you know how rare it is for siblings to stay together once they enter the system? Rare and even rarer was for a fourteen year old to find adoptive parents. But they came into our lives when we needed them the most. When I was too broken to take another breath.