The Initiation (Darkness Within Duet Book 1)

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2019 Sam Crescent

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-897-6

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Karyn White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  Wow, I cannot believe I'm writing this. As always, I have got to say a big thank you to Evernight Publishing and Karyn White. They are amazing and have given so many of my books a home, and even this duet. You help to make my dream come true, and I just adore working with you guys.

  Now, I also have to say a big shout out to the following peeps, Stacey Espino, Nathasha Knight, Celia Aaron, Alta Hensley, and Sam Mariano. If you guys have not given their books a try, please do. They are amazingly talented women, fantastic authors, and so supportive.

  And of course, to my readers. You guys rock my world, and I really hope you enjoy Draven and Harper's journey. It was an intense one for me, but I loved every second of it.

  THE INITIATION

  Darkness Within Duet, 1

  Sam Crescemt

  Copyright © 2019

  Prologue

  Harper Miller stared out of her bedroom window just like she had for many years, in a different house, a different room. A house that was once her home but not anymore. The night was dark, but then it had always called to her. The only light cast was by the moon, and that was because of a power outage in the town of Stonewall, a once-promising town for tourism, real estate, and beauty. In recent years, that had changed. The town was no longer a place for promise but a death sentence.

  There were crooks, criminals, and abuse at every corner. Harper knew her father was a lawyer. He’d helped many of the men in this town get away with murder and fraud.

  Pressing her face against the window, she saw them. The four men waiting for her. They were not boys. True, they all went to high school, but the small group of four were anything but boys. She didn’t know what had changed in them, but they were deadly.

  Not too long ago that danger would have scared her. She’d try to run, to hide away from what they were, but now, there was no hiding. She yearned for the peace that came over her because being around them meant she was still alive.

  She’d heard other students refer to them as being fearless, deadly, dangerous. No one was allowed to join their little gang. It was just the four of them, until tonight.

  They waited by the tree in the front yard. They were dressed in black, each of them staring up at her bedroom window as they had been doing for the past nine months.

  Nine months of planning.

  Of preparing.

  Of getting ready for this moment.

  She already had the ink on her back declaring herself theirs. That had been an experience she had no interest in repeating.

  Harper had no doubt that the rumors at school would run wild. That was all people cared about. Their image. Bringing others down. Making others feel small so they could rise up. She hated it. Hated the world. Hated her family. Hated everything that she could think of. Anything that got in her way. Men, women, kids. None of them were of any importance to her.

  Not anymore.

  A year ago, she’d have said differently.

  A year ago, she wouldn’t have looked down at her front lawn at the four men waiting for her and eagerly awaited what was coming to her.

  No.

  She’d have still been going through the motions, still in pain, but she’d have been a good girl, always doing the right thing.

  Only, doing the right thing stopped having any meaning to her.

  All it did was make her so angry, so pissed off, and she hated the world around her.

  Pulling her hair up into a tight ponytail, she opened her window and climbed out to what awaited her.

  Draven Barries.

  Axel Cook.

  Buck Perry.

  Jett Henry.

  They were her salvation.

  Her fight for survival.

  They would belong to her just as she did to them.

  It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but she had no choice. They were the only ones to understand, to get her, to know her.

  There was no turning back.

  The initiation had begun months ago.

  Chapter One

  One year ago

  “I don’t want you causing trouble,” her father, Ian Miller, said as he pulled up outside of his mansion.

  Harper stared up at the large, pristine-looking house that fit in on the streets of Stonewall. One look and instantly she knew she was in the wealthy side of town. The nice side. The place everyone wanted to be and those that were there were happy to make others feel small.

  She held her bag in her fist.

  Of course, there would only be the best for his new wife, the twenty-something blonde he’d left her mother for years ago.

  “I’ve never caused trouble,” she said.

  She hadn’t.

  Anyone who spoke of Harper Miller always talked about her being a good girl. A nice girl. The kind of person who was nice to everyone, sweet, kind, generous. Her mother had taught her to be nice.

  “There’s enough badness in the world, Harper. The least you can do is be a reason for someone to smile.”

  She adored her mother. Even after the divorce, her mother found a reason to keep on smiling.

  That had all been a lie.

  She stared out of the window as she recalled the tub, soaked with her mother’s blood, the water spilling over the edge.

  For a few seconds once she saw her mother’s dead body, she didn’t react. There was no fear. No pain. Just … shock.

  She couldn’t register what she’d seen, what was right there in front of her.

  None of it made sense.

  Then reality set in.

  Her mother had slit her wrists in the bathtub while Harper had been at school.

  Harper didn’t know if she did it first thing in the morning, the moment she left, or just before she arrived. She hadn’t taken too long to get home. She never did.

  Unlike her father, Catherine Miller had been poor, and the divorce had kept her poor.

  Up until this moment, Harper had lived with her mother, opting to stay on the wrong side of the tracks rather than go up in the world.

  Her father’s new wife had already had a baby, and they were a perfectly happy family. With her raven hair, Harper wouldn’t fit in. She had her mother’s hair, her mother’s blue eyes, and she hated her father.

  “Yes, of course. Sorry. I guess we should grab your stuff.”

  By stuff, he meant the few bags of clothing he’d allowed her to take.

  “I’ll get Hannah to take you shopping. She loves to shop, and there’s no expense. You can buy what you want.”

  She wanted her mother’s old furniture, but she wasn’t allowed that. He’d tossed it aside as if it was nothing.

  Pulling the bag onto her shoulder, she climbed out of the car, staring up at the house.

  This was her life for the next year until she went to college, if she even got into one. Hannah appeared in the doorway. The perfect little blonde wife.

  “It’s so good to see you, Harper. So happy to have you here.”

/>   Before she could stop her, Hannah had her arms wrapped around her. Staying still, Harper counted to ten, then to twenty.

  Could it get any more awkward?

  Finally, her stepmother let her go.

  She couldn’t even believe she called her a stepmother. The woman that ruined her parents’ marriage didn’t deserve to be anything.

  Staring at her, Harper didn’t let her feelings show. She waited as Hannah grabbed her hand, and either ignored the blatant lack of response or didn’t care.

  “We’ve got you the perfect room. You’re going to love it.”

  She was dragged up two flights of stairs. The house they lived in was way too big for three people. Four now if she counted herself.

  She had to count herself.

  There was nowhere else for her to go, and when she suggested a rented apartment so she didn’t impose on his life, her father refused.

  Hannah opened the door at the end of the long corridor.

  Pink. Everywhere. Also teddy bears with unicorns and other shit.

  Hannah breathed in and laughed. “Don’t you just love it? I think this is so amazing. So pretty. So beautiful. You’re going to love it.” She ran toward the window. “Look, you get to see the entire street, and also a side window as well.”

  Harper stood perfectly still. Hannah’s laughter irritated her.

  “She loves it,” Ian said, dropping her bags on the floor. “You’ll be taking her shopping tomorrow. I’ve got to meet a client. You understand.”

  “Of course. Of course. You’ve got all your work that is so important to you.” Hannah rushed to his side.

  Harper didn’t turn as the sound of their kissing filled the air.

  Dropping her bag to the floor, she walked over to two of the doors. Opening one, she saw the en-suite bathroom.

  Again, so much pink.

  Finding the closet, she ignored the two people who were now her parents and started to unpack her clothes.

  They stood out against the silk of the sheets. Silk wasn’t something she was used to. The grandeur of this house glared at her, reminding her once again of everything her mother never had.

  “So, what do you think?” Ian asked.

  She glanced over at him. His arm was wrapped around Hannah.

  “It’s fine.”

  She hated it, but it didn’t matter what she said. They didn’t care.

  “It’ll grow on you, sweetie. Believe me, at your age, I was mad for pink anything. I know what it is you’re going through, and there’s no shame in loving a bit of pink.”

  “Your mother slit her wrists in the bath as well?” she asked.

  Any color in Hannah’s face drained away as she simply stared at the woman.

  The homewrecking whore.

  The woman that had something her own mother didn’t have.

  She tilted her head to the side. “You want to compare notes.”

  “Sweetie, go and make dinner. I bet Harper is hungry.”

  Hannah didn’t argue and made the escape quickly.

  “I don’t want you bringing that incident up, do you understand?”

  Harper stayed silent as she waited for whatever he had to say.

  Be silent. Keep it secret. Don’t say anything. Pretend it didn’t happen.

  “I want you to have fun tomorrow.”

  “I don’t want to go shopping.”

  “Stop being difficult, Harper. Seriously, enough.”

  She watched him turn on his heel and walk away. Sitting on the edge of the bed in the large room, she felt like a stranger. She didn’t belong here.

  Harper Miller was part of his old life, not the new one.

  At eighteen years old, she’d seen the heartache her mother had to go through. Ian didn’t move towns.

  No, her father decided to stay in the same town, moving to the good part of it, the wealthy part. When she went shopping with her mother, they’d see him with his new trophy wife.

  Looking back, Harper should have known her mother wasn’t happy, that she was finding it hard to cope, but she didn’t see it in time.

  Standing up, she filled her closet with the few pairs of jeans and shirts she’d kept. Within twenty minutes, her life was neatly packed away in the closet. There was nowhere else for to her to go. This house, her father, Hannah, were all part of her life. She didn’t have the means to take care of herself. No house, no job, nothing. She depended on him, and she hated knowing that she did.

  She sat on the edge of the bed, fingers locked together, staring at … nothing.

  The empty void had come to her when the ambulance came to take her mother away, as she sat in the hospital for three hours waiting for her father to arrive, to take her home.

  She moved toward the window and stared out toward the sterile street. Not a piece of trash in sight, nor any loud neighbors.

  Just silence.

  This life, she already hated.

  Nothing made sense to her.

  “Harper, dinner.”

  She looked toward the door and frowned. That wasn’t her mother.

  Gritting her teeth, she wanted nothing more than to climb out of her window and run. To rebel. To not conform.

  Instead, she walked quietly to the bedroom door, closed it behind her, and headed downstairs to her new family. Slowly, step by step, she walked downstairs, coming to a stop near the entrance to the dining room.

  She’d visited her father twice since he left.

  “These potatoes are stunning,” he said. “You make them so creamy.”

  “I fill everything I do with love.” A few seconds of silence. “You should call her again.”

  “She’ll be here. She’s not used to being in such a big house.”

  “How do you think I should … handle her?” Hannah asked.

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, her mother is gone, and I can see she’s hurting.”

  “She’ll be fine.”

  “I want her to like me.”

  “She’ll like you. I know how good you are.”

  Harper heard them kissing and rolled her eyes.

  “Do you think I should make her eat more healthily? I remember what it was like to be at that age, and no one likes a fat girl, even if she has a pretty face. I could help her get more style. To become more attractive. She could be beautiful, but she doesn’t exactly use it to her best potential.”

  “You’ll do what is best.”

  “We’ll keep it a secret so she doesn’t feel like I’m picking on her.”

  “Her mother was always too soft with her. She wouldn’t do what’s right. She always believed that a man would love a woman regardless of her flaws. It’s time for Harper to get into the real world.”

  They laughed.

  Harper stayed perfectly still, her hands clenched into fists as she heard them. They shouldn’t be laughing like that. Not about what her mother thought. She’d loved all people, flaws and all.

  “Oh, well, some women think that, but don’t worry. I know what a real man wants. I’ll take care of her.”

  “She’ll love you like a best friend and then like a mother. Just you wait. Harper’s always been a good girl. She doesn’t make waves.”

  They sounded so happy, like their lives hadn’t been touched by death.

  She stared at the door across the hall. It led to the outside, to freedom, to being far away from here.

  The normal Harper would walk into the room and pretend nothing had happened. Pretend that she wasn’t hurting as they laughed about her mother.

  Her dead mother.

  Her heartbroken mother.

  Facing the both of them, she didn’t want to be the good girl anymore.

  “I’m going out,” she said, stepping across the doorway and going straight toward freedom.

  She sped up, not giving anyone time to call her name as she opened the door, closed it, and walked down the long driveway toward the exit.

  On the visits she’d paid to their house, she often
stayed in her room, out of the way. The only reason she ever went to visit him was because he forced her to.

  He’d turned up, waiting outside her mother’s house, calling her mother names, saying she was turning his daughter against him. When he first started this, Harper had believed it was because he wanted to see her, and he’d not had a great lawyer to get custody of her. In the end, she saw it for what it was—he was being a bastard. He could have had custody, her mother told her. When she went home with him, he wasn’t interested in her; he just wanted to hurt her mother. It was another way to bind her mother to him. She could never move on, which was probably another reason her mother had decided to end it.

  Her mother never tried to turn her against him.

  Not once, from the arguing to the impending divorce, did her mother turn around to her and say, “Your father is a womanizing bastard who deserves to have his dick cut off.”

  She acted like nothing had happened, like her husband moving on with another woman didn’t even bother her. All the time, it had.

  Blood.

  So much blood.

  Pulling out of her memories, Harper found herself walking toward the abandoned park. It was abandoned because it normally had tape around it, red tape advising, not telling, people not to go inside.

  How dangerous it was.

  A kid had hurt himself on one of the rides, which was why it was so dangerous.

  It was still light out, and as she stared at the red tape, the sign saying not to enter, she touched it.

  “Always be a nice girl, Harper. No one wants a bad girl.”

  Tears filled her eyes, and stepping past the red tape, she walked into the park.

  Her heart raced.

  To some this was just a little rebellion, but she needed this. To glide past the red tape to see what was beyond.

  The swing that had snapped still lay on the ground. According to gossip in the town of Stonewall, the kid had screamed for an hour before the ambulance arrived.

  Some women were so saddened by the sound. Others were pissed off that it polluted their nice ears. How dare a child scream?