Desecrating Solomon: Book 1 of 3 (Desecration Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

more from fear than fatigue now as he looked around. What if the monster who’d done this was still around? He felt around on the floorboard for his shotgun. Panic hit as he realized he’d left it on the ground where he’d found her. Looking around one more time, he considered all the possible weapons he could concoct in his cabin. 
    Making his way to the other side of the truck, he again slowly removed her, apologizing at her every moan which was ten times a second. At the first step on the porch, he froze. Just beyond the screen door, the cabin door was open. He darted a look around, his heart back to hammering as his muscles braced to run back to the truck.
    He could’ve left it open earlier in his panic.
    Shit. Staying outside another second felt like a bad idea too. Carefully and quietly, he made his way to the cabin with her. Pulling the screen door open, he leaned his head in, looking around as far as he could see. One kick to the door banged it against the wall revealing the place was empty. Solomon didn’t waste another second kicking the door shut and hurrying her to the bed to put her down and race back to lock both locks.
    Approaching the bed slowly, he stared at her, constantly moaning now like she was in a lot of pain. He raked both hands through his hair and pulled, pacing and staring at his bed with the half dead woman in it. His mind raced with a million things, calling the police, the dream, the scream, knowing his name, where was the culprit, would they return, why did they put her there?
    Wiping his forehead with his arm, he hurried to the kitchen table in the far corner for his phone. Ahhh fuck! Of course it would be completely dead. He lost track of how many times he’d planned to get a new battery because it barely held a charge. He raced through the cabin, searching for the charger like a madman. After he had everything moved, tossed or knocked over, he still had nothing. Three steps brought him to the kitchen-laundry-bathroom area of the room to check his jean pockets, already sure it wasn’t there.
    Jesus, really? He raked his hands in his hair, looking around at where the fuck he might have possibly put it. The truck? He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d used the phone, he rarely used it out there.
    The dazed and confused sensation he’d gotten several times that night hit him again. Mumbling came from the bed and Solomon rushed to her side, listening, hoping for details that would point him in some direction. Like who to call or what to do.
    “S-Sol…” Her head lolled left and right as she tried to raise her hand only to have it flop back down. “Master….”
    “Master? Who is Master?” Solomon asked, kneeling next to the bed. “Is that who did this to you? Who hurt you? Can you hear me? Can you tell me your name? I’m going to call an ambulance,” he soothed. Even if he had to drive to town to do it.
    Her head shook a little. “No… no… telling.”
    No telling? What the hell. “Why can’t I tell? Did he threaten you?”
    “Y-Yes.”
    “You’re safe here,” Solomon assured, although without a shotgun or a fucking phone, the assurance felt moronic. “You don’t have to talk, just rest.”
    “No… telling.”
    “No telling, okay. Just rest. We’ll get you better in no time,” he said in sheer faith. “Then you can tell me who to call. Family, a friend?” A husband? He regarded her dress then. Where was she coming from, a party? A wedding? He needed to give her medicine. Was she allergic to anything? Was anything broken?
    “I need to ask you some questions and what I’m going to do is hold your hand, just your hand. All you have to do is squeeze once for yes and twice for no as I ask you questions. You need to save your strength and not talk. Are you understanding me?”
    “Yes,” she barely whimpered, like she was in pain.
    Solomon took careful hold of her small hand, ignoring the dried blood all over it. “Are you cold?” She certainly was to