Predator

  Copyright © 2016 by M.A. Heard.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  The resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Designer: Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  DEDICATION

  WARNING

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  JUST A NOTE FROM ME…

  ENEMIES TO LOVERS SERIES

  CONNECT WITH MICHELLE ONLINE:

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  DEDICATION

  My heart goes out to every person who has suffered abuse, every mother who had to say goodbye to a child, every single soul who has felt the bitter sting of depression or illness.

  Sometimes life sucks.

  Sometimes you feel like death might be the better option.

  Sometimes you reach the end of your rope only to find no ground beneath your feet.

  In those darkest moments of your life, I want you to remember one thing – it’s okay...

  It’s okay to cry.

  It’s okay to break.

  It’s okay to scream.

  It’s okay to stay in bed until you feel like your body has become a part of the mattress.

  It’s okay…

  Because you are human and you need time to just breathe.

  Please remember that you are not weak when you break. You are beautifully broken and so much stronger when the storm passes.

  Please remember that you are not alone.

  Please remember that you are worth a chance at a beautiful life.

  Remember that, once you let go and you break to pieces as you hit the bottom of that dark pit, there is only one way to go and that’s up.

  WARNING

  If you need a warning before you read a book, this book is not for you.

  PROLOGUE

  CARA

  “Cara,” Dad calls out to me, “do you have the blanket?”

  “Yes, Daddy.” I pull the blanket out of the car and set off after my parents. Unlike most teens, I love being with mine. We have a great relationship. I know I can talk to them about anything. It’s just always been that way with us.

  Dad starts the boat motor and steers us down the river. It’s a sunny day with a light breeze to cool the worst of the heat. We always come out here after lunch. This is our family time together. Once we get to the wide open space of the dam, dad starts to slow the boat down.

  I spread the blanket open and laugh happily as Mom and I lie down, trying to get comfy. Dad kills the motor when he’s satisfied with the spot we’re in, and then he comes to lie down on my other side.

  “Look at that one,” Dad says, pointing to a cloud. “It looks like a car.”

  I laugh. “Everything looks like a car to you.”

  “No, seriously,” he laughs, too, but carries on, “look, those are the wheels, that there is the roof.”

  We talk about the silliest of things before we grow quiet while just listening to the birds chirping all around us. I’m going to miss doing this with my parents, once I’m away at college. I only have a few precious weeks left with them. I drift off like I always do.

  There is a loud crash that yanks me out of my peaceful sleep. I hear my parents scream, and my whole body goes instantly cold from shock.

  The boat tilts sharply, and it tosses my body to the side. I try to claw at the floor, searching for something to grab onto. I slam hard into one of the chairs, and it jars my body, making a sharp pain shoot through me.

  The boat breaks apart with a loud crack, and water swallows the pieces with greedy gulps.

  “Daddy! Mommy!” I shout. My eyes dart around, searching for any sign of them, but there is nothing but the boat breaking apart and the awful noise.

  What’s left of the boat rises sharply into the air, like a beast gasping its last breath. I start to slide down and grab for the chair, but I’m too late. Something knocks hard into my shoulder, only speeding up my descent into the muddy water.

  “Daddy,” I scream as I claw for anything to stop my fall. Splinters of wood stab at me, and then muddy water swallows me.

  I know how to swim. I’m a good swimmer, but the color of the water robs me of my breath … it’s red. I struggle to get back to the top, and it only makes an ice cold fear spread through my body.

  I don’t want to die!

  I hear a louder sound. It’s not like the crash. This time it hits at the water, hammering its way closer to me.

  The water won’t let me go.

  White hot pain slices through me and I swallow water.

  I swallow blood.

  I wake up to a blinding light, and I have to blink a couple of times before the light stops stinging my watering eyes. Confusion crashes through me.

  Where am I? I try to say the words, but they come out sounding like a garbled groan.

  My eyes dart around the room, and then a sharp pain starts to pulse in my back.

  Where are Dad and Mom? What happened?

  Shuddering sobs ripple from my chest, making the pain so much worse. Hot tears spill from my eyes, slipping into my hair.

  “Cara.” My eyes jump to the voice, and I see it’s Uncle Tom, Mommy’s brother. “I’m sorry,” he says while getting up from the chair.

  I frown, not sure what he’s sorry for.

  He rubs tiredly over his face and then sighs heavily. “There was an accident. Your parents… they didn’t make it.”

  My parents … they’re dead?

  NO! My heart squeezes painfully, and then a sharp twinge starts to grow in my chest. I suck in an agonizing breath, but the feeling keeps growing until I’m hollowed out and only filled with the loss of my parents. On my next breath, sobs start to tear from my throat.

  They can’t be gone! It’s too soon. I didn’t get to say goodbye.

  My thoughts start to race, and panic sets into my bones. They can’t be dead … not my parents.

  The reality of never seeing my parents again hits hard, an ache so deep it shatters me. An empty feeling overwhelms me, something I’ve never felt before. It’s like a wave that washes all my happy memories away, leaving only a harrowing heartbreak behind.

  I’m too scared to say a word, and my eyes beg Uncle Tom to tell me different. I keep looking to the door expecting Dad and Mom to come rushing in at any moment.

  They’ll make it all better. They’ll take the emptiness away.

  “The nursing staff will look after you. Once you can walk, you should leave the country.” I look at Uncle Tom, confused at his words.

  Why would I leave South Africa? This is my home.

  He lifts the mattress right under my butt, and the movement jars my body, sending a wave of pain through my back. I watch as he shoves a thick envelope under the mattress before dropping it down again.

  “Keep that envelope safe. It has a new p
assport and some money in it for you. I’ve arranged a visa for you to go to America, but it’s only valid for three months. I could only get you a temporary one on such short notice. You can’t stay here. Once you’re in America, stick to the small towns and never use your name again. Forget where you come from, or they will find you.”

  They? Who are they? Why would people be coming for me? I don’t understand any of this.

  I want to scream as a helpless feeling overwhelms me.

  Uncle Tom gently caresses my cheek, a sad look giving his face a haggard appearance. “Leave South Africa, Cara. As soon as you can.” He leans over me and places a chaste kiss to my forehead. “Run, Cara. Run far away and never stop!”

  I watch him leave and then I’m left alone in the hospital room with only the envelope and a heart filled with sharp pieces of emptiness that are stabbing at my insides with every panicked breath I try to suck in.

  For a moment, I can only blink and breathe before the reality starts to squeeze at my insides again.

  My parents are dead!

  I’m alone?

  I start to weep, grief-stricken and distressed by all that’s happened to me.

  I’m only eighteen. I don’t know what to do. I want my Dad and Mom.

  A nurse comes into the room and smiles warmly at me, but I feel none of the warmth. She gives me something and it starts to soothe the pain that’s clawing at my heart.

  I know the relief is only temporary, but I welcome the blissful sleep with open arms.

  CHAPTER 1

  CARA

  “Time to close up,” Mr. Johnson says with that eerily quiet tone of his. In the beginning, it used to freak me out, but you get used to stuff like that if you need money. I’ve done so many different types of jobs in my life, but selling stuffed animals must be my least favorite and weirdest.

  Mr. Johnson offered to teach me ‘the tricks of the trade’ (his words, not mine.) There is no way I want to learn how to be a taxidermist. I just need another hundred bucks and I’m out of here. I’ve already stayed here for too long.

  I live a lonely life, but I’ve grown used to it. It’s just the way it is. It doesn’t help to question something you can’t change. It’s better to just accept that it’s the way my life is going to be.

  I now go by the name of Cassy Smith, my mother’s name. Cassy is short for Cassandra and Smith was her maiden name. That was a nice thing of Uncle Tom to do. I feel closer to her that way.

  I still don’t understand any of the things that happened to me when I was eighteen. No, I’m lying. I understand the pain because it’s the only thing that was real and constant.

  I don’t understand what happened on the boat, or to my parents. I don’t understand why I had to leave and why Uncle Tom left me.

  I’ve come to the conclusion that life is not meant to be understood – trying will only drive you insane. Life is just meant to be lived, every day a new day with its own problems.

  I’ve been in the US for seven years. Lucky number seven … right? I can’t use my passport anymore. It was only valid for three months, but that was all I needed to find my first job, which was cleaning toilets at a truck stop. It was a shitty job, but that’s why they let me work there in the first place. Cheap labor.

  I keep moving, just like Uncle Tom said. I don’t stay longer than two months in one spot. I’ve been here six weeks already and I’m feeling the familiar itch to run.

  I don’t make friends and I sure as hell don’t grow attached to anyone, and that’s the reason why I had to push Steven away. I could see more with him. If you can see more with someone, it usually means trouble. When you’re on the run, getting attached to another person is like carrying a dead weight around your neck.

  I thought it was a good thing to hook up with him for one night, seeing as he was traveling through Scappoose. He only came to hunt some deer, then he’d head back home.

  We had sex, nothing spectacular, but it soothed the craving for another human’s touch.

  He never left. I’ve seen him hanging around at the local bar, so I stopped going there.

  It’s time to leave. I can feel it in my gut.

  I shrug on my jacket that’s seen better days, and I make sure the heater we keep under the counter is off. This store is already an ice box, and it’s not even winter yet.

  While Mr. Johnson locks up in the back where his workshop is, I quickly take out my food for the day. The water in the urn is still warm, so I just pour some over the cup o’ noodles and then wait for Mr. Johnson.

  He comes shuffling out of his workshop, and I open the front door so he can just keep shuffling by me. I don’t want him to slow down, because then he will find a hundred things to do and I’ll be stuck here longer.

  Using my foot as a doorstop, I quickly turn the open sign, so it shows closed. When we’re both out of the store, Mr. Johnson locks the door. He waves tiredly at me before he shuffles slowly down the sidewalk. I guess I should go home, too.

  Home.

  There is no such place for me. I move from shady motel to even shadier motel. That’s been my life since I ran away from that hospital. I had to run, not for fear of my life, but because I had no way of paying the huge bill. I snuck out like a thief in the night.

  I walk slowly and test the heat of my dinner with the tip of my finger. It’s cooled down already. I stick my finger in the cup and stir until it looks good enough to swallow. When you’ve been living off cup o’ noodles for years, you don’t chew, you just swallow so the stuff can fill your growling stomach. Chewing, now that is reserved for tacos, or pizza, or burgers … sigh.

  “Hi,” I hear someone call behind me. I look over my shoulder and see Steven jogging towards me.

  “Well, this sucks,” I mutter.

  He catches up to me and throws his arm around my shoulders. “Where are we going?”

  “We?” Oh, buddy, you have high hopes. “We aren’t going anywhere. I’m going home.”

  “I’ll walk with you,” he says way too cheerfully as if he’ll be getting lucky tonight.

  “I’m fine by myself.” I shrug his arm away from my shoulders and walk faster.

  “Oh, come on, babe. We had a good time the other night.”

  I stop dead in my tracks and glare at him. “One-night stand,” I spell the words out for him, holding up one finger for emphasis. “That’s not happening again.”

  He takes hold of my hand, quite a tight grip, and he starts to pull me into the street.

  “I said no, asshole,” I snap, trying to yank my arm free. Alarm bells start to sound through me and nervous tension washes over me.

  The cup o’ noodles spills over my hand. “You’re spilling my dinner!” I shriek at him.

  He doesn’t seem to care about the loss of my food, and just keeps yanking at my hand, forcing me to move faster.

  My stomach drops, and for the first time, I actually start to doubt myself.

  How well do I really know this dude?

  What if he drags me to the park and rapes me?

  Shit.

  What if he’s a serial killer?

  “Okay,” I say a little breathlessly. My heart is racing wildly as panic floods my veins. “You go on ahead to the bar and I’ll meet you there. I just want to go shower the day away.” My voice is pitching. Fuck, he can hear I’m scared.

  “Hell no, babe. You’re not going anywhere,” he snaps.

  He drags me across the street. I hear the squealing of car tires, and by the time my senses kick into action, it’s too late.

  Arms grab me from behind, and a piece of cloth is shoved over my mouth and nose.

  Cold fear ripples over me as I start to realize that I’m in danger.

  A horrified scream tears through my throat as I’m thrown onto a hard metal surface. I hear a door slam closed, and an overwhelming sense of danger floods me.

  I manage to yank my face away from the sickly smelling cloth. “Let me go!” I scream while kicking and hitting at anything.


  I try hard to push myself up with my arms, but I keep getting shoved back down.

  “Go-Go-Go,” Steven yells. “We’ve got the package.”

  Something slams hard against the side of my head, and then there’s a sharp prick in my right arm. I try to yank away, but it’s too late.

  My whole world wobbles and spins.

  CHAPTER 2

  CARA

  The world blurs, and at first, I think I’m still dreaming, and that I’m underwater, but then I taste the sweetness on my tongue. I always taste the metallic taste of blood in my dreams, and this is not it. This is sickly sweet.

  My eyes feel heavy, but I pry them open, squinting around me. It’s dark and whatever I’m on makes a hollow banging sound as I push myself into a sitting position. I wait for my eyes to adjust, but they don’t. Crap, it’s really dark in here, as if I’ve been dropped into a pot of ink.

  “Hello?” I whisper because I’m too scared to say it out loud. There’s no answer, only the harsh echo of my own pathetically scared voice.

  I get up slowly, carefully testing the ground beneath my feet, and again it makes the hollow banging sound. I must be standing on some sort of metal sheet ... I think.

  My arms stretch out automatically, scared that I’ll bump into something. It’s as if my balance just up and left me, and fear sets in, throwing my senses totally off.

  I’m too scared to move, but I know I can’t just stand here. My whole body starts to tremble as if it only caught on now that we’re in a huge amount of shit.

  “Come on, Cara,” I try to talk some courage into my terrified mind. “Find a way out. You just need to find a way out. Stay calm and don’t lose it.”

  I take small steps forward, my hands shaking terribly. When I walk into a solid wall, my breathing turns to rapid gasps of terror. “No! Shit, where am I?”