Lost: Saved by Love #1 Read online

Lost

  * no longer possessed or retained. * no longer to be found. * not used to good purpose, as opportunities, time, or labor; wasted. * being something that someone has failed to win. * ending in or attended with defeat. * destroyed or ruined.

  Romance novel by

  Jodi Kae

  Lost

  Copyright © 2016 by Jodi Kae

  Lost is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental

  All rights reserved

  Contents

  Title page

  Copyright

  Warning

  Dedication

  Chapter One - Freedom

  Chapter Two - Heal

  Chapter Three - Revelation

  Chapter Four - Starved

  Chapter Five - Awakening

  Chapter Six – Shame

  Chapter Seven - Console

  Chapter Eight - Panic

  Chapter Nine - Redemption

  Chapter Ten - Enlighten

  Chapter Eleven - Frantic

  Chapter Twelve - Protection

  Chapter Thirteen - Committed

  Chapter Fourteen - Distraction

  Chapter Fifteen - Rejuvenation

  Chapter Sixteen - Hope

  Chapter Seventeen - Escape

  Chapter Eighteen - Diversion

  Chapter Nineteen - Salvation

  Chapter Twenty - Transformation

  Chapter Twenty-one - Conception

  Chapter Twenty-two - Sacrifice

  Chapter Twenty-three - Desperation

  Chapter Twenty-four - Elimination

  Chapter Twenty-five - Control

  Chapter Twenty-six - Revenge

  Chapter Twenty-seven - Closure

  Chapter Twenty-eight - Breathe

  Chapter Twenty-nine - Enrapture

  Epilogue

  Warning

  This book contains scenes of violence, graphic language, mild sexual content and other aspects that some may find disturbing.

  Reader discretion is advised.

 

  Dedication

  To my family,

  Thank you for your infinite patience. Thank you for fixing your own dinners and allowing me to write. To my daughters, you know why I wrote this so please, please, please take precautions. To my husband, thank you for my first e-reader. You have made buying books so much easier and faster. I could actually say that you are my inspiration. Love You All!

  To Jennifer,

  Thank you for the long hours, laughs until we cry and long talks. Thank you for reading, reading, reading, reading and editing with me. Our friendship and road trips bring more humor than the best comedians. Love you.

 

  Chapter one

  Freedom:

  *the power or right to act, speak , or think as one wants. *absence of subjection to foreign domination or despotic government. *the power of self-determination attributed to the will; the quality of being independent of fate or necessity. *the state of not being imprisoned. *the state of being unrestricted and able to move easily. * unrestricted use of something. *the state of not being subject to or affected by something undesirable.

  ~Derek~

  The open road brings me peace, just a long stretch of smooth asphalt to keep me company. Cruising through the mountain pass, my Harley’s quiet hum is music to my ears until I can reach my sanctuary in the hills. Coming home always brings a sense of peace to my soul, even though I’m alone here with nothing but the crickets and wildlife to keep me company; I prefer it that way. I come here to get away from the rat race I live in, but If Shana needs to reach me, she has my satellite phone.

  I haven’t taken a vacation since starting Mason PI six years ago, and after the last case, my secretary demanded I take one or she was going to quit. Shana has worked for me for five years; she is an angel sent from above. After ten secretaries storming out calling me every name in the book, I’d just about given up. She claims to tolerate me because I’m just like her papa who was also a PI. He was shot and killed during an investigation, and she thinks it’s her duty to keep the same from happening to me.

  I was only twenty-three when my own parents were murdered in their home. The scene was made to look like a random robbery, although only a few pieces of jewelry and some antiques were missing. The police said when my parents came home from the country club surprising the robbers; no witness was their motto. They were bound, gagged, and shot execution style in their bedroom. After two years of no leads and the case getting colder by the minute, I decided to go hunting myself, which led to Mason PI. With the help of my friend Jax, who is an agent with the FBI, we were able to put two thugs away for life without the possibility of parole. My dad’s business partner who ordered their murder only received twenty-five to life with the possibility of parole; granted he will die in prison of old age before he ever sees that day.

  My inheritance was my father’s investment firm, which I didn’t want. It is one of the top Fortune 500 companies in the world. Most people might think I hit the gold mine, but I am not the business suit corporate type; so sitting in a stuffy office with other suits is not my idea of a dream job. My dad expected me to take over for him and was ready to train me to be his protégé’, so I’m sure he turned over in his grave when I decided to sell most of my interest in the company to one of his other business partners. It was the best for all parties involved. His partner assured me that my dad’s employees would remain with the company and be taken care of. The monthly residual checks from my retained interest in the firm are donated to different foundations, which are handled by my secretary Shana.

  With both my parents gone and no siblings to care for, I have put all my energy into building my cabin. With a solar system and a private well, I have everything needed to retire up here someday. At thirty-one, it won’t be soon. Not because I need the money, but to keep myself from becoming a hermit. My inheritance is enough to set me up for life and any family I leave behind; which is not in the cards for me, the family that is. I like my solitary life and only crave a woman’s company for one thing, but dollar signs have them craving so much more than I’m willing to give. They only seem to want more once they realize who I am; Google has definitely not done wonders for me. Being the only heir to a multi-million dollar company tends to bring a lot of unwanted publicity.

  Since I never planned to take a wife or have any children, I thought I could splurge on my mountain get-away. Two hours into my scenic drive, my private road welcomes me home. Turning off the winding mountain road onto an unkept dirt road is not what I’d normally do to my bike, but I haven’t been here in six months to maintain it, so I’ll just have to go slow.

  The sunset is amazing, at least what you can see through the trees anyway. The temperature is cooling to a comfortable 60º, much better than the humid 80º in the concrete jungle where I earn a living. Purchasing this mountain eight years ago was the best investment I’ve ever made. The two hundred and fifty acres provides me the privacy I crave.

  When I flip on the bike lights to show me the way through the thick evergreens up to my home, the beam highlights the dirt road up ahead, but what catches my attention is not normal for my neck of the woods. “What the hell!” Stopping my bike, I angle the headlights toward the small form. From the looks of it, a wild animal was planning on a meal, and I may have interrupted. Holding my breath, I listen for sounds to give anyone or anything away, but the forest is eerily quiet like it’s trying to warn me that something is out there. Hopping off, I grab my .45
from my shoulder holster and rush forward. As I get closer, I see the crumpled and bloody body of a child lying two feet from the roadside. The long dark hair covering her face is matted with dirt, leaves, and blood. I reach down to touch a cold, bare shoulder and she moans. “Son of a bitch!”

  Her body temperature is low, and she starts to shiver uncontrollably. Picking her up and trying to be as gentle as possible, I move quickly to my Harley. Holding her close to my body, so I don’t move her too much, I glance down to see her mouth open on a silent scream. Tears stream from her eyes to mix with the coagulating blood at her temple. My blood boils at what has possibly happened to this girl. Mounting gently, I start up and head for home.

  ~Unknown~

  The pounding in my head is excruciating. Something thick and wet slides down my face with a faint drip to the hard surface below. Trying to open my eyes to see where I am is impossible; they feel glued shut. My arms feel weighted down, and no matter how hard I try to move, I can’t raise my hand to my face. I think I’ve died, but where am I? Who am I? What happened to me that I feel this much pain? Hoping to be a good enough person to make it into Heaven, although I’m not sure that is where I want to be if the pain I feel comes with that privilege. I can’t see the bright light that everyone always waxes poetic about, or feel the sense of peace.

  The throbbing at my temple dominates every one of my senses, so I don’t hear the approach of footsteps, but I feel the light touch of a calloused hand on my shoulder. A rumble of a deep voice reaches my ears, but I can’t make out what it is saying. As a large hand slips under my neck and one under my knees, I open my mouth to scream out from the pain but only silence greets me. Tears slide down my face, and I am mad at myself for being so vulnerable. Then I feel nothing.

  ~Derek~

  Lucky for me my cabin is nestled in a thick mass of trees that anyone would miss if they didn’t know what to look for. Having a perimeter fence with no trespassing signs usually stops trespassers, although sometimes a determined hunter gets through. It’s the high-tech security system and cameras that prevent anyone from breaching my private domain.

  With some slight maneuvering, I manage to free one hand to punch in the security code, and my door pops open. Slipping inside and kicking the door closed, I carefully move up the stairs to my room.

  My unconscious bundle doesn’t make a sound when I lay her on the chaise lounge in the corner then stand back to get a better look. I’m shocked to see that this is no child but a very petite woman. She has several cuts on her face, including a gash at her temple. Her entire body doesn’t appear to have a spot unmarred by bruises. She is covered in dirt and blood, which will increase her risk for infection if not cleaned up soon.

  Rushing to the adjoining bathroom and starting the bath, I move quickly about to gather supplies. Unfortunately, I’ve never had a woman here, so I only have supplies that I use. No fruity smelling soaps or lotions, just Suave shampoo and Dial soap will have to do. Moving quickly to the bedroom to gather the small woman into my arms, she whimpers, but after looking down, I see that she is still unconscious. I carry her into the bathroom, kneel down on one knee by the tub and rest her small body on my leg. Undressing her from her remaining shredded tank top and cotton shorts only to realize there is nothing on underneath, causes my heart to skip a beat. I curse my good and my bad luck at the same time while slowly lowering her into the warm water. A small sigh escapes her lips even though she remains unconscious. Washing away the grime from her body was the worst sort of torture I could’ve put myself through. I feel like the biggest pervert as I notice her creamy skin although marred by cuts and bruises. Her breasts are high and firm, and the small patch of a landing strip between her thighs does nothing to calm my raging hormones. She is a temptation I didn’t need. Cursing myself ten times to Sunday, I finish cleaning her long, dark hair and lift her out of the tub. As gently as possible, I carry her into the bedroom and lay her on some towels to wrap her up. Pulling back the covers, I shift her body to the center and cover her with the comforter, tucking the thick blanket around her small body. It doesn’t escape my attention that now she smells like me, and that just feels right. I need to get my hormones in check because the last thing she needs is to wake up to a strange man drooling over her.

  ~Unknown~

  Excruciating pain in my ribs jerks me awake as calloused hands scoop me up again. Too afraid to open my eyes, I let oblivion claim me while dreaming of warm water with soft caresses that lap over my tired, sore body. A picture flashes in my mind of a white sandy beach stretching out behind a beautiful cottage. The beach and its warmth sinking into my bones remind me of basking in the sun and the heat that comes with it. Where it is, I don’t know or can’t remember. All too soon the warmth is gone, and I want to cry out for more except I can’t seem to make any sound come out of my mouth. When will this pain end? What have I done to deserve this kind of fate?

  ~Derek~

  Running a disinfectant-soaked cotton ball over all the scratches covering her body leaves very little untouched. Even marred by cuts and bruises, it’s still the softest skin I’ve ever touched. I choke back a groan as my fingers glide the cotton over the bottom of her breasts; this is pure torture. They are so firm and creamy, my mouth waters with the images of what I could do with my tongue. What the hell is wrong with me? This woman is vulnerable and under my care. All I can think about is molesting her while she sleeps. I truly am demented and must have lost my mind. After covering the worst cuts with gauze and medical tape, I slip one of my t-shirts gently over her body. Seeing her in my clothes does something to me indescribable. Some age-old primitive reaction I’ve never felt for any other woman on the planet. “Mine,” whispers from my lips but I have no idea where that came from. Needing to clear my mind away from this woman, I cover her back up with the bedding and quietly move to the door. Taking one last look, I turn off the overhead light leaving only the soft glow from the bedside lamp and step out.

  Hoping that fresh air will clear my head, I head outside to my bike to grab the supplies I picked up at the little store twenty miles back and move to the deck. Popping open a beer, I relax back into the built-in swing and close my eyes. My thoughts race to what I should do next. Should I take her to the hospital or contact the police? My gut instinct screams no. It seems too suspicious that she ended up on my road in the middle of the mountains. What if whoever dumped her there comes back with intentions to finish the job? If they come back only to find her missing, will they search hospitals and police stations to reclaim their victim? There are so many different scenarios playing out in my head that I decide to wait until she can tell me herself what happened to her.

  Chapter Two

  Heal:

  *to become sound or healthy again. *alleviate a person’s distress or anguish. *correct or put right an undesirable situation.

  ~Unknown~

  Warm and comfortable, I stir half asleep. The soft caress of silk crosses my legs as I try to roll over, but the pain in my ribs stops me quick. My eyes feel as though they weigh a hundred pounds, however, prying them open anyway is necessary. As my vision clears, the large soft bed in a dimly lit room starts my panic.

  Where the hell am I, who brought me here? I try to remember but can’t even remember my own name. Who am I? How did I get here? Where is here? My heart races, and I feel as though it will jump right out of my chest. Pushing off the silken covers, I try to sit up and can’t do that either. What is wrong with me? The pain limits my movements, so I start by moving my legs; they seem to work fine. My head is throbbing, so I reach up and find a bandage at my temple. Was I in a car accident? Why can’t I remember what happened to me, or anything for that matter? Looking around, my concern only grows when I realize that I am not in a hospital. I slide my hands down my body to feel a soft cotton shirt that reaches my thighs. Slowly I pull the fabric up moving my hands to my stomach an
d feel several bandages on my abdomen. Gliding my hands along my body as far as they will reach, I find more gauze on my arms and upper thighs. My hand slides under the shirt to move it above my breasts to check for damage there too, and I freeze.

  Movement to my left catches my attention, so I slowly turn my head to stare into the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. Heat races from my chest to my face and I’m sure turns beat red. Getting caught fondling myself in front of the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen is more than humiliating. If there is a hole nearby, I’ll crawl inside and never come out. He just stares at me, mouth open, probably at a loss for words as I am.

  Slowly pulling the t-shirt back into place, I try to ask where I am except only scratchy air comes out. Pushing sound through my vocal chords feels like running my tongue over sandpaper, which I did once on a dare when I was a little girl. My eyes fly open in shock at the memory, which probably makes me look like I am going to freak the hell out, which I might.