Exploited (The Dark Redemption Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

there was nothing to be happy about while in isolation. 
    It takes a little more searching for me to find the box of photo albums. I let out a sigh of relief that he didn’t destroy them. Brushing the dust off the top one, I open the big, navy blue cover, revealing a photo of my parents on their wedding day. My heart clenches at the sight of her face after all these years, so incredibly beautiful with long blonde hair and golden skin. As a child I remember thinking she always looked gorgeous, even first thing in the morning with no makeup on, fixing breakfast in her pajamas. But on her wedding day, she was radiant, although she wasn’t smiling. I keep turning pages, seeing photos of her belly swollen with me and a hint of happiness on her face, my baby pictures, her holding me, feeding me, bathing me. My father is thankfully not in any of the pictures. I guess he was the one taking them, which is surprising. I can’t remember ever seeing him take pictures. Going on to the next album, I open it up and find…nothing. It’s empty. Along with the other two albums, not like photos were removed, but like my mother never got a chance to fill them. Unfortunately, I don’t find any videos, so I decide to go back downstairs into the cool air, taking the navy blue album with me to the garage. 
    Finally ready to leave, I hop into the red, Audi A-5 convertible I was able to hide in the garage, sitting the album in the passenger seat. On the drive across town, I try to think of anything I might want to do before the end. Eat some good food, that’s for sure. Have a cupcake or an entire cake to celebrate the ten birthdays that have gone by without a card or notice from another single soul. I miss cake. My mother made the most delicious chocolate, three layer cake every year for my birthday that I can remember, until that day…What else do I want to do on my last day on earth? Oh, I’ve always wanted a tattoo! Maybe I could get the butterflies and flowers I associate with the star-crossed lovers. I’m sure I can find a tattoo parlor around here.
    Saving my mental bucket list for later, I pull up in front of the paint-chipped building with black bars on the outside of all the windows and doors and turn off the ignition. The small neon sign says they’re open, so grabbing my purse, a pink messenger bag decorated with a white kitten wearing pink sunglasses that I found in my childhood bedroom, I square my shoulders and try to look like a confident woman instead of the scared little child that I am.
    When the door buzzes, announcing my arrival in the otherwise empty store, an overweight, balding man on the other side of the counter doesn’t even bother looking up from his laptop. That’s right, I’m invisible. Nothing new.
    I casually walk around the cluttered racks and shelves of used junk, touching lamps and other random things occasionally, as if I’m just browsing and not intent on buying an illegal gun. I just keep wandering around until, what do you know, the shiny guns in the glass case just so happen to catch my eye. There are three choices, small, medium and large. I’m sure a gun enthusiast would know more about them like make or model, but to me, it’s just eeny, meeny, miny, moe. 
    Deciding on the large one so that I do this right the first time, I pull out the wad of cash I grabbed from my childhood piggy bank and start counting out the three hundred dollars required for my purchase based on the handwritten price tag. I lose count when the door buzzes, announcing another customer. Nosy, I glance over to see who it is. 
    My blood warms in my veins, sending a scalding blaze of heat from my scalp down to my toes at the mere sight of the tall man. Everything about him screams dangerous , from the thick chestnut-colored facial hair to his black leather jacket in summer and the cigarette billowing a cloud of smoke from between his two fingers. When he removes his dark sunglasses, it’s his lowered brow and deep set