DEGREES OF DISTORTION by Aimee McNeil
Distortion Series book #1
Lexie Wilder is no stranger to tragedy. She struggles every second of every day to overcome the loss of her boyfriend…
Determined to get her life back on track, Lexie retraces a road trip she went on with Alex before he died. The trip was meant to be a harmless adventure to revisit old memories and track down an elusive color of nail polish. Instead, Lexie uncovers a truth in Sugar Hill that her mother wanted to keep hidden.
When strange men follow Lexie home, her mother demands she run, sending her further away from the answers she seeks. But Lexie finds a clue in an old diary. Her mother wrote about a dark man with a dangerous past.
Jackson is a distraction Lexie isn’t prepared to face…
Alone in an unfamiliar town, Lexie has nothing but her haunted thoughts to keep her company and is terrified this man from her mother’s past has come back to finish what he started. She doesn’t know who to trust, especially when she realizes her neighbor, Jackson, is as intimidating as he is beautiful. She tries to keep her mysterious neighbor at a safe distance, but after he fights off an armed attacker, Lexie finds herself turning to him for comfort.
Her new protector can’t stop the evil forces already in play…
There is only one person who can answer for the chaos that has taken over Lexie’s life…her mother. The man responsible for the torment detailed in the pages of the diary is real, and now his sights are set on Lexie. His henchmen might have failed, but he won’t.
Lexie must figure out exactly how much she trusts Jackson and his good intentions if she ever wants a chance to finally piece her life back together. But first she has to survive…
Some demons don’t die. They wait...
The room was dark and the air felt as if it had taken shape and slithered over her skin—cold and damp. Her jaw hurt from the constant chattering of her teeth. The dull ache stretched down her throat making it feel swollen and tight. Her thoughts jumped from one to the next as her mind refused to focus on anything.
She raised a shaky hand and brushed her hair from her face, noticing her cheeks were damp. She pressed numb fingers to her skin and wiped away tears that were dripping from her chin. She hadn’t even realized she was crying. She licked her dry lips and blinked her eyes. The haunting quiet was enough to make her question what was real.
A strange numbness engulfed her as she looked through the rough metal bars that caged her in. A lone lightbulb in the far corner of the room flickered occasionally, threatening to leave her in darkness. She had no concept of time due to the solid walls of concrete around her. The only indication of time passing was the constant drip of water she could hear from the leaky faucet across the room.
The bars that made up the small cell had initially been a source of terror when she had awoken inside them but now she was grateful for the barrier. They were the only thing that separated her from him.
The man sat on the other side of the bars with a suit and blood red tie. His chair was so close that his knees were pressed against the bars. He had been sitting impossibly still for so long she was beginning to wonder if she was imagining him.
When he finally moved her breath caught in her throat. He loosened his tie and leaned back. The chair groaned loudly in protest but he remained eerily quiet. He didn’t look like a man that was capable of great evil with his expensive suit and well-manicured appearance but there was no denying there was something unnatural about him. He watched her silently like a lion toying with its food, waiting to strike.
She pushed back the lump in the throat and searched for her voice. “Why?” her lips felt frozen, making it hard to speak.
He refused to break his silence. He ran his hand down the front of his shirt and began to rub his thighs in long, languid strokes. His gaze never left her and she cowered away from his frightening presence.
She sat on the small cot pushed up against the wall. It offered no comfort as the frame dug through the thin mattress. A chill rushed over her skin as she pulled her knees up to her chest.
“Why…am I…here?” she cried. The rush of emotion was impossible to stop as it began to flow. She gasped for breath between her sobs. Her body shook as she wrapped her arms around her knees and made the best attempt she could to shield herself from his view.
He leaned forward suddenly in his chair and grabbed hold of the bars. His abrupt movement startled her. She pushed off the bed and stumbled to her feet. She pressed her body against the solid wall of concrete in the back of the cell. Her heart raced so fast she could taste the metallic pulse in her mouth and the deafening rush in her ears.
“Because you are mine,” he said in a voice that reached across the distance between them and grabbed hold of her.
She shook her head. “Let me go,” she sobbed. “Please.”
“Never,” he said as he shoved his chair back. It scraped loudly against the floor. He pulled what sounded like keys from his pocket and walked around the cell. He ran his fingers over every bar until he came to the door. Fear strangled her as the sound of a lock released.
“I will never let you go,” he said as he pushed the door open.
`*.¸.*´´¯`•★ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Aimee McNeil was born and raised in Nova Scotia, Canada, where she continues to live today with her husband and three children. She is a stay-at-home mother that loves every colorful moment with her family.
Aimee spends most of her free time indulging in her love of writing. You can also find her lost in the pages of a good book, or making a mess with her paints. Aimee loves to explore anything that promotes creativity. It is one of the many reason she enjoys writing.
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