The Vengeful Vampire Read Online Free PDF Page A

was reluctant to leave her. She knew he still hadn’t made up his mind about whether to punish her for being late but she was heading in the right direction and so pressed on.

    “Go on, hon. You must be exhausted. I understand how hard you work.”

    “I am tired,” he admitted. “The words just didn’t seem to want to come today.”

    “How much did you get done? Do you have any idea when you’ll be finished?”

    Jackson raised his face to her, head tilted to one side, his eyes narrowed. “Are you giving me a deadline, Serenity?”

    “No... No… Of course not,” she tripped over her words. “But I know how frustrated you feel when you...”

    He was on his feet in an instant, his chair crashing to the floor behind him. His face pressed up against hers, breath hot against her skin. His thick fingers wrapped tight around her neck, squeezing. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers dug painfully into her trachea, choking her.

    “Don’t you fucking tell me what I feel!”

    He shoved her backward and she fell, crashing into their large, silver trashcan. Trash spilled out on the floor and the can hit the tiles with a reverberating clang. Pain shot up through her ribs, red hot spears of agony, and she instinctively curled up into the fetal position, her arms protecting her head.

    “Look what you’ve done,” he spat, kicking at the spilled contents of the can. “I hope you’re going to clean this mess up.”

    Jackson snatched the beer bottle off the table and stalked out of the room. Within seconds, the roar of the television reached her ears; the rage built up inside of him now released. What she’d said hadn’t mattered; he’d been itching for a fight. Even if she’d stayed utterly silent, he still would have found some reason to hit her.

    Despite the pain, part of her was relieved. Maybe now he wouldn’t read the truth in her face? Maybe now he wouldn’t see her secret?

    Serenity rolled to her side, cheek pressed against the cold tiles. She stayed there for a moment, waiting for the pain to subside. Slowly, the initial stabbing pain dulled to a familiar ache. She squeezed her eyes shut and prepared for the fresh wave she knew would come as soon as she tried to move again.

    I will leave him, she promised herself for the millionth time. I don’t deserve this.

    From out of nowhere, the stranger’s face rose in her mind and she remembered the feel of his touch. That was what she wanted. Someone who stirred such intense emotions, it made her gasp for breath, and not because he’d inflicted pain. She cradled the hand her stranger had touched to her body and closed her eyes, recalling every sensation. Something welled up deep inside, a wave rolling through her body, wiping out the pain. Would she see him again?

    Panic jolted through her at the idea that she might forget his face or how he’d made her feel. Suddenly, remembering this man was more important than dealing with the abusive husband she remained terrified to walk away from.

    “Find me again,” she whispered to the empty kitchen.

    Realizing she had spoken aloud, her cheeks flushed and she worried Jackson may have heard her above the television. How absurd to think the man would give her a second thought, never mind come looking for her.

    Feeling stupid, she carefully pushed to her knees and began to gather trash—empty cans, an old cereal packet, a pizza box—toward her. Tomato sauce and bits of pasta from last night’s meal clung to the floor. Sauce stuck to her fingers and she wiped them on the seat of her pants in disgust. Like an old woman, she climbed to her feet, using the wall for support. She righted the big metal bin and proceeded to refill it.

    “I hope that’s my dinner you’re crashing about making,” Jackson shouted from the living room.

    “It’s coming,” she managed weakly, but the coil of anger from earlier raised its head again and lashed its tail. Her body might be weak, but that didn’t mean