Lion In Wait (A Paranormal Alpha Lion Romance) Read Online Free PDF
Author: Lynn Red
dark, out of a well-developed sense of self preservation.
She hardly slept, and the small bit of time she did spend with her eyes closed was dreamless. Cass, with no dreams. That’s how she knew something really, really bad was going on in her head.
The truck pulling her trailer creaked to a halt, and a few moments later, the hitch dropped. As always, her dwelling squeaked, groaned, and finally settled, but not before throwing at least a handful of the few books she had onto the dirty linoleum.
Cass closed her eyes as she picked up the ratty old copy of Dracula she’d bought a year or so back at a used bookstore somewhere in Florida. She couldn’t remember the town, exactly, or much of that trip. Then again, she couldn’t remember very much of any of the trips. It had been a long, hard, often terrifying, seven years.
“Get a move on!” she heard from outside.
He’s chipper this morning , she thought. Lyle must’ve started early on the booze. Cass stood on her mattress and pulled the trash bag she’d taped to the window aside, looking out. This place was a whole lot like the last one. If she hadn’t had the physical sensation of moving for the last two and a half days, she might even be convinced they hadn’t gone anywhere at all.
The only difference, as far as she could tell, was that the scrubby little oaks of the Oklahoma panhandle had been exchanged for equally scrubby mesquite trees.
Cass sat back onto her bed, thinking about how she came here, how in the world she’d managed to stray this far from the high school sophomore with a 3.8 grade point average, and the loving—at least on the surface—family she grew up with.
Ever since she was small, darkness came over her from time to time. She felt like she didn’t see the world the same way anyone else saw it. Feeling like she couldn’t let any of it out without being an outcast from her gloriously normal upper middle class family, she kept it all bottled up inside. Deep, deep inside.
Four times thought, the pain made its way out. She’d fall into these long, horrible stretches where all she could do was read a book to stay awake. The first time, she was ten, and her parents convinced her she had the flu. That explanation worked well enough, except that she didn’t have a fever, didn’t throw up, or do any flu-things.
But denial was easier than reality.
The next time, she was thirteen and knew better, so they just told her she had a bad case of teenager attitude. Easy come, easy go. Her third funk came at sixteen and ended in a round of therapy that her father summarily dismissed as “idiot voodoo.” Terrible spell four came when she was nineteen, the year before she finally got the gumption to leave home. That one involved some pills – enough to knock her out but not enough to do any real damage – and also included a stint at a hospital that lasted until she was declared “cured” and released.
An inadvertent tear slipped down the side of Cass’s face, which she instinctively wiped away. She took a deep breath and steadied her nerves. Memories weren’t going to do her any good. None at all.
Cass stood up and stretched her back. If there was a show tonight, that meant she’d see Lex. And if she saw him, she could figure out where they kept him. And if she found that?
She shook her head, banishing the thought of some heroic rescue and running off into the night. That’s going to do about as much good for me as remembering what it was like to be a lost, scared little kid , Cass thought. Not a damn thing.
*
W hen Cass emerged from her lonely trailer, the sun was hanging low on the dusty, flat plane of the south Texas horizon. She took a deep breath, inhaled the scent of earth and the smell that only comes from wide open plains with nothing to block the sky.
Already visible, the stars overhead danced through her mind, making shapes that seemed almost real.
Of all Cass’s issues, imagination was a constant companion.
She
She hardly slept, and the small bit of time she did spend with her eyes closed was dreamless. Cass, with no dreams. That’s how she knew something really, really bad was going on in her head.
The truck pulling her trailer creaked to a halt, and a few moments later, the hitch dropped. As always, her dwelling squeaked, groaned, and finally settled, but not before throwing at least a handful of the few books she had onto the dirty linoleum.
Cass closed her eyes as she picked up the ratty old copy of Dracula she’d bought a year or so back at a used bookstore somewhere in Florida. She couldn’t remember the town, exactly, or much of that trip. Then again, she couldn’t remember very much of any of the trips. It had been a long, hard, often terrifying, seven years.
“Get a move on!” she heard from outside.
He’s chipper this morning , she thought. Lyle must’ve started early on the booze. Cass stood on her mattress and pulled the trash bag she’d taped to the window aside, looking out. This place was a whole lot like the last one. If she hadn’t had the physical sensation of moving for the last two and a half days, she might even be convinced they hadn’t gone anywhere at all.
The only difference, as far as she could tell, was that the scrubby little oaks of the Oklahoma panhandle had been exchanged for equally scrubby mesquite trees.
Cass sat back onto her bed, thinking about how she came here, how in the world she’d managed to stray this far from the high school sophomore with a 3.8 grade point average, and the loving—at least on the surface—family she grew up with.
Ever since she was small, darkness came over her from time to time. She felt like she didn’t see the world the same way anyone else saw it. Feeling like she couldn’t let any of it out without being an outcast from her gloriously normal upper middle class family, she kept it all bottled up inside. Deep, deep inside.
Four times thought, the pain made its way out. She’d fall into these long, horrible stretches where all she could do was read a book to stay awake. The first time, she was ten, and her parents convinced her she had the flu. That explanation worked well enough, except that she didn’t have a fever, didn’t throw up, or do any flu-things.
But denial was easier than reality.
The next time, she was thirteen and knew better, so they just told her she had a bad case of teenager attitude. Easy come, easy go. Her third funk came at sixteen and ended in a round of therapy that her father summarily dismissed as “idiot voodoo.” Terrible spell four came when she was nineteen, the year before she finally got the gumption to leave home. That one involved some pills – enough to knock her out but not enough to do any real damage – and also included a stint at a hospital that lasted until she was declared “cured” and released.
An inadvertent tear slipped down the side of Cass’s face, which she instinctively wiped away. She took a deep breath and steadied her nerves. Memories weren’t going to do her any good. None at all.
Cass stood up and stretched her back. If there was a show tonight, that meant she’d see Lex. And if she saw him, she could figure out where they kept him. And if she found that?
She shook her head, banishing the thought of some heroic rescue and running off into the night. That’s going to do about as much good for me as remembering what it was like to be a lost, scared little kid , Cass thought. Not a damn thing.
*
W hen Cass emerged from her lonely trailer, the sun was hanging low on the dusty, flat plane of the south Texas horizon. She took a deep breath, inhaled the scent of earth and the smell that only comes from wide open plains with nothing to block the sky.
Already visible, the stars overhead danced through her mind, making shapes that seemed almost real.
Of all Cass’s issues, imagination was a constant companion.
She
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