EASY SACRIFICE
ANNA BROOKS
Copyright © 2016 Anna Brooks
Published by Anna Brooks
Cover design by Cover to Cover Designs
Editing by Editing4Indies
Formatting by Champagne Formats
Proofreading by Vivid Words Editing
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.
Table of Contents
Praise for
Easy Sacrifice
Anna Brooks knows how to write sexy romance with the perfect flare of suspense and true love of the deepest kind. Every story will keep you coming back for more.
KC Lynn, #1 Bestselling Romantic Suspense Author
Easy Sacrifice
wasn’t a sacrifice to read, in fact, it was a crazy roller coaster ride of emotion I didn’t want to get off of. I LOVED this book! I highly recommend reading Anna Brooks as she’s become a new favorite for me!
Piper Davenport, Author of the Dogs of Fire, MC Romance Series
Easy Sacrifice
has all of my favorite things in a book— a flawed but lovable hero, off the charts chemistry, and a roller coaster ride of emotions. If you like romantic suspense with a twist, get ready for one hell of a ride!
Kelly Lincoln, Contemporary Romance Author
From the minute I read the first sentence to the last word I couldn’t put this book down. It sucked me in and I could not stop. It gave me everything you could want in a book and more.
Natasha Madison, Contemporary Romance Author
Dedication
To Crystal.
Thank you for cheering me on, making me laugh, and spending so much of your time helping me. You don’t have to do what you do, but know that I appreciate it more than words can say. I am so, so grateful. Thank God for takeovers!
Prologue
Ty
twelve years old
The undercover security guard thinks he’s being sly by following me with a cart in tow. I purposely make eye contact with him, my practiced sad face a mask I wear to scam people. He looks away and grabs an item from a shelf. Stupid amateur. As he turns the corner, I grab a jar of peanut butter and shove it under my coat, then grab another one and toss it into the basket I’m carrying.
I head to the checkout and set the basket on the conveyer belt. The clerk takes out the items and slides them over the reader. Like a starved child, I watch as she scans the bread, oatmeal, two cans of corn, four packages of ramen noodles, and peanut butter.
“That’s eleven fifty-nine.”
“Oh, I only have ten dollars.” I pout and shift on my feet, acting embarrassed. My hands shake as I hold out a wrinkly bill. “Can you take the peanut butter off, please? Will this be enough then?”
She looks at me sympathetically, and her eyes become wet. “Oh, umm—”
“I’ll pay for it. Just add it to my bill,” an elderly woman says from behind me as she pats me on the top of the head.
I turn to her and use my best thankful face. “Oh, ma’am, thank you. Thank you so much.” Then I hold out the money to the cashier again.
“No. You keep that. I’ll take care of it, sweetie,” the elderly lady insists.
“Are you sure?” I ask. She nods and smiles, her wrinkles becoming tight on her worn face.
“Thank you!” I reach over and hug her, and she pats my back. “You’re welcome, dear.”
I shove my dirty money back into my pocket and take the two bags the clerk hands me. I walk outside, around the corner, and then down the street and through an alley to get to my apartment building. I don’t even bother to turn the knob to the main door, since it’s broken. Instead, I use my foot to kick it open.
When I make my way down the hallway to lucky number thirteen, I set the bags down and grab my key out of my jeans pocket to open the door. As soon as I’m inside, I lock the door, set the grocery bags on the kitchen table, and then go to my room.
My mom’s not home, so I quickly unzip my jacket and watch as the jar of peanut butter and a bag of M&M’s fall out and onto the carpet. I rush to my closet, lift the broken floorboard, and tuck the items into my hiding spot. I return the wood back where it belongs and go back to the kitchen to unload the groceries. I’ve learned to hide some spare food since the men who come around always end up eating everything in the kitchen.
The jingle of keys startles me, but when I recognize her cough, I relax. Mom walks in with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. She spots me right away. “Do you have my money?”
“Yeah, all ten of it.” I fish it out of my pocket and hand it over.
Her shaking hand wraps around mine. “Such a good boy. You never let me down.”
Chapter 1
Jessa
sixteen years old
“Jessa, I asked you a question.”
My attention snaps back to my teacher Mr. Russell, and I divert my attention from the infatuation with the new kid.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear.”
“If you can’t pay attention to the lesson, Ms. Crew, then perhaps you would like to spend the rest of class in the principal’s office.”
I gape at him, and my neck and face become warm; I’m sure I’m bright red by now. My mouth opens to speak, but nothing comes out.
“Twenty-nine to thirty-nine.”
I whip my head over to
the boy
, the one who caused my distraction in the first place. He’s new here, and I can’t take my eyes off him. He’s bigger than most of the kids in the class, even the ones who play football. He wears a black t-shirt and worn jeans along with a pair of ratty Converse. His eyes are what got to me, though, what drew me in. Even from two rows over, I can see the amber specks in the middle of the light green irises. He’s beautiful. Rugged and dangerous, but beautiful.
“Excuse me?” Mr. Russell asks him.
“The Great Depression began in October of nineteen twenty-nine. By nineteen thirty-three, approximately thirteen million Americans were without jobs. Roosevelt helped lessen the effects through relief and reform in the thirties, but it wasn’t until the Civil War in thirty-nine that the economy turned around.”
Mr. Russell’s eyes widen, and he nods at the boy … no, not a boy, but not yet a man, although he will be soon. Very soon. Faster than everyone else. Not only is his body an indication of that, but his eyes are also wise beyond his years.
“Very well. Now, if everyone would turn to page eighty-three …” The teacher’s voice fades as I continue to watch
him
. Eventually, the new boy will look at me, right? I want to see his eyes again.
When the bell rings, I jump and look down to grab my books, pissed he hasn’t looked at me again. Maybe I’ll thank him for saving my ass, so then he’ll have to look at me, right? Yeah. That’s what I decide to do. But by the time I stand up, he’s gone.
My friend Kat loops arms with me in the hallway. “OMG, Jessa, what was up Mr. Russell’s ass? He was so mean to you!”
“I don’t know.”
“God, what a jerk.” She pops a bubble from her gum and pulls me into the bathroom with her. I apply more lip-gloss while she pees. “Did Derek ask you to the dance yet?”
“No.”
“He will.”
“I suppose.” I shrug. “Although I saw him walking with Ashley after school yesterday, so he might ask her.”
The toilet flushes, and she comes out and washes her hands in the sink next to me. “He’d be an idiot not to ask you.”
I shake my head at her words.
“I’m serious, Jessa. You’re pretty, funny, smart, and your dad’s the superintendent of the school board.”
“That’s exactly why he’d want to go with Ashley instead of me.” I’ve learned the hard way that people in my school usually use me to get something—a grade changed, an exception to a rule—or they stay far away from me to avoid being around my father.
“Whatever. If he asks Ashley, it’s his loss.” She rolls her eyes, and we walk out together, heading to our lockers to stow our books so we can go home.
“Honestly, I don’t really even want to go, Kat,” I admit.
“What? Why?”
“It’s just not my thing. I don’t like dancing. I’d rather be at the animal shelter.” I prefer solitude when I’m not in school. I like to watch movies or read or spend time with my animals. I’m not a recluse, but I just prefer it that way. Why would I want to hang out with people I don’t particularly like?
“Ugh, God, Jessa, don’t be so lame.” She walks across the hall to my locker and shoves me lightly. “It’s homecoming. You have to go.”
I shut my locker door and blow some of my long bangs out of my eyes, ignoring her. We make our way to the parking lot where her older brother, Vaughn, is waiting for us in his truck. Kat slides in first, and I squeeze next to her.
“Hey,” he says before I close the door.
Kat and I both reply with a, “Hey,” and he tears out of the lot to take us home. On the way, I roll down the window and let the wind blow through my hair. Then I see
him
. In the street, walking, and as we pass him, I turn my head so I can see his face.
He looks up; our eyes connect, and I don’t blink … I can’t. He mesmerizes me. He’s unlike anyone I’ve met, and I haven’t even talked to him and don’t know what his name is. All I know is that I want to. I want to talk to him. I want him to look at my eyes so I can get lost in his.
As we drive farther past him, he begins to fade away, and I close my eyes to try to keep him there, to try to burn him into my brain.
Vaughn pulls up to my house a few minutes later, and I thank him, hug Kat, and then head inside my house. My dogs, Sparrow and Finch, are waiting for me. They jump up and down, Sparrow on three legs, excitedly waiting for their walk.
* * *
“You look pretty,” Derek says, holding my hand as we walk into the dance. He asked me to go with him last week, and even though it was short notice, I was able to get a dress. I really didn’t even want to go, but Kat insisted and begged—something about making memories—so I relented.
“Thanks.”
Once we get inside the crowded gym, I realize the noise from the DJ is deafening, and the lights are blinding … strobes flash and reflect off the rotating disco balls hanging from the ceiling. Derek pulls me into the center of the gym and turns me around so my back is to his front. He grabs my hips and pulls me into him tighter, then begins to dance. I feel his hardness poking at me, but I try to ignore it and have fun, letting my body move to the beat of the music. But as the night goes on, I realize just how much I don’t want to be here. I’m not really friends with him, so I feel awkward.
I’m so glad by the time they call last dance, and Derek and I sway together slowly. His hands rest at the small of my back, and I give him a hug when the song ends. “Thank you for asking me. I had a good time.”
Lie.
It wasn’t the worst night of my life, but had I known all he was going to do was grind his dick on me, I would have suddenly come down with the flu before he picked me up.
“Let’s get out of here. Everyone’s going to the hotel on the river.” He tugs on my arm, and I pull back.
“I just wanna go home.”