Losing Her (Lost and Found Book 1) Read online

  LOSING HER

  LOST & FOUND

  PART ONE

  K.S. MARSHALL

  Copyright © 2017 K.S. MARSHALL

  Losing Her

  Lost & Found Part One

  Published June 2017, First Edition

  ISBN-13: 978-1546663713

  ISBN-10: 1546663711

  All rights reserved.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No parts of this material may be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed, publicly performed or used in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s rights, and those responsible may be held liable in law accordingly.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  PROLOGUE

  The darkness clouded my vision as I moved through the forest, damp leaves and fallen branches snapping and crunching under my feet. My heart thundered wildly in my chest, but my body felt like lead.

  The only thing keeping me moving now was the utter fear that he would catch me.

  Keep going.

  Keep running.

  Survive.

  My thoughts were loud commands from my brain to my body.

  The farther I ran, the closer I was to surviving this hell.

  “Alina!” His loud voice rang out from behind me, a little too close for comfort. Hearing him scream my name caused me to whip my head around. Suddenly, I went flying through the air. My foot caught on a raised tree root and sent my body soaring. I couldn’t stop myself from crying out as I collided with the cold, hard ground; a pile of leaves softening the blow somewhat.

  It was so dark, I couldn’t see anything past my face, but I felt nearly everything. My left side had gone numb, but I had broken something on my right leg. The sharp pains radiated from somewhere near my ankle. I tried to push myself to stand but my left wrist buckled under the pressure. I couldn’t support my own weight.

  The tranquilizing drugs he’d given me made my body feel weak and heavy. I knew I needed to get up and keep running. My life depended on it at this point, but I couldn’t fight back the darkness anymore. It was heavy. All-consuming. I breathed through my open mouth, ruffling the leaves around my face.

  No.

  Please God no. Not like this.

  Loud footsteps pounded the ground nearby. Too close.

  “Alina!” he shouted, “I WILL find you.”

  I flattened my body, silently praying he wouldn’t find me. I needed the darkness to save me. My heart thumped against the ground. It was so loud in my ears. He would hear it, there was no doubt about it. His angry steps slowed to a complete stop. I concentrated, focusing all of my attention on listening. He had just stepped over the root I had tripped on seconds earlier.

  “It does you no good to run from me Alina,” he said through labored breaths, “You’re going to regret trying to escape me. I swear you’re going to regret this.” He took another step. This time, his foot ruffling the same pile of leaves I was buried in.

  My eyelids became heavier. The tranquilizer had worked its way up to my head. Even if I tried, I couldn’t move anything below my neck.

  This was it. One more step and he was going to find me. It was inevitable. I had escaped only to be captured again.

  Tears streamed down my face as I swallowed my sobs, in one desperate attempt to stay quiet. I pressed my ear to the ground, feeling my heartbeat slow, now thudding quietly against the damp forest floor.

  This was the end.

  I couldn’t fight anymore.

  “Dammit Alina! Where are you?!”

  ONE | Alina

  It was hot. Suffocatingly humid. But I didn’t care, I needed to get out of that great hall.

  All of the suits, sequined dresses, thick clouds of various perfumes mixed with the catered food. It was too much. My face hurt from the plastered smile I’d kept on my face over the last three hours.

  My skin felt clammy from having shaken nearly every hand in the room.

  And my feet. Ugh.

  I tossed the offending stilettos across the patio overlooking the meticulously landscaped grounds. They clamored against the wooden deck boards loudly, earning a glare from me as I strode past them. I gripped the railing, decorated with a string of lights twisted ornately around it, closed my eyes and inhaled the fresh summer breeze.

  This calmed me. This was my happy place. Outside in the air, away from the stifling confines of my duties as the only daughter of the prestigious Prescott family.

  My father had just announced his bid for mayor of New York’s Gold Coast. This banquet was his celebration of that announcement. It had been the natural progression of things around here. Successful entrepreneurship had been the hallmark of my family for generations, so the leap towards political ambitions seemed like the next best thing to do. Or so I’d overheard numerous times tonight.

  I, for one, wanted nothing to do with it. Going against the grain; that was something I did well. I was a free spirit in every sense of the word. I’d heard that was typical when you were the baby of the family.

  The music from the band swelled and drifted out toward me, pretentious laughter and inflated conversations floated out with it. I kept my back turned on the party, wondering if anyone would even notice if I just disappeared.

  The thought excited me. Disappearing from this world that I didn’t belong in. Sure, I was born a Prescott. We were well known in this tight knit affluent community. But that was precisely the problem. I couldn’t fit in or blend anywhere. I had a personal security guard that surrounded me everywhere I dared to go. Joe and I rarely had issues, but I desperately wanted my freedom. If I could just disappear, I would be free.

  I felt his presence before I heard or saw him standing behind me. A cold chill ran through me that even the stifling outside air couldn’t warm.

  “You should be inside Alina,” his voice was deep and slithering, like the snake he was.

  I stayed with my back turned to him, “I needed a break,” my voice a stern objection.

  “There are no breaks as far as I’m concerned,” he retorted back.

  I whipped around on the spot, my eyes adjusting to his backlit silhouette. Jason Robert Brown. Also known as the biggest thorn in my side or the reason for my perpetual migraines. He’d worked for my father’s company for years as the Head of Public Relations and for the last eighteen years, as our family’s personal PR agent. He handled every single aspect of our lives, which meant he practically owned me.

  I was never too fond of that fact.

  “And who asked what you were concerned about?” I quipped, my hands crossing over my chest defiantly.

  Jason chuckled fondly as he closed the distance between us.

  As he got closer, I could make out the features of his face. His strong and angular jawline coupled with his deep set honey colored eyes completed the villainous snake aura he projected. His hair was cropped short and lighter than traditional brown, with hints of red that sparkled in the light cascading out onto the patio.

  He stopped in front of me, slowly shaking his head. I had to tilt my head back to look up at him. He towered over my five foot frame with all six feet of his. I used to think he was attractive. But now he was the bane of my existence, so most of my thoughts about him weren’t very posit
ive.

  “Oh Alina,” he began, “so strong-willed and feisty. I’ve always loved that about you.”

  I narrowed my eyes, feeling uncomfortable under his

  unwavering gaze. His smiled stretched across his face as he leaned in to whisper, “It’s my job to be concerned for you, my dear. A job your father hired me for. A job I take very seriously.”

  His cool mint breath washed over me, goosebumps forming on my exposed shoulders. My heart thudded loudly against my chest and in my ears. I hated how close he was to me.

  “Alina?!” a shrill, impatient voice rang out into the night. It came from behind Jason’s large frame.

  I looked around him and saw my mother, dressed in a maroon colored off the shoulder gown. The form fitting garment accentuated her size four frame that she somehow maintained after three kids and over fifty years. Only two sizes larger than when she was a model back in her youth. The only telltale sign of her age were the graceful lines around her eyes.

  She had her arms crossed over her chest and a disapproving scowl on her face, “What are you doing out here, Alina?”

  Jason moved to my side as she approached us, “I was just out here asking the same thing, Mrs. Prescott.”

  She glanced up at him, an appreciative smile brightening her face, “Of course you were Jason. You’re always on top of things.”

  I sighed and rolled my eyes. Jason was nothing short of a demigod to my parents. She’d be pleased with anything he did.

  “Alina, answer me,” my mother’s impatient voice snapped again.

  “I needed some fresh air, mom.”

  She shook her head, opening her mouth to begin chastising me when Jason interjected, “I noticed her out here and decided to accompany her ma’am. She shouldn’t be out here alone, especially on a night like this when every eye is focused on your family.”

  She nodded, “Yes, Alina. My point exactly.” Her hand out toward Jason in agreement with what he had just said, “This night is extremely important and crucial for your father. Could you please pull it together long enough to just do your job?”

  “This isn't my job,” I argued back.

  “You’re a Prescott, darling. This is your only job,” she said, her tone ringing of finality.

  “Let me escort you back inside, Mrs. Prescott. We wouldn’t want to draw attention away from the party.” Jason gently steered my mother away back toward the celebration, but not before tossing another look my way, “You should join us, Alina.”

  I clenched my teeth angrily and took a steadying breath before following behind them toward the light of the banquet hall. I picked up my shoes, slipped them back on and glanced back over my shoulder at the moonlight washing over the lawn.

  So much for freedom.

  Hours later, the party was still going strong and I was seeking solace in a bottle of champagne. I felt pretty pathetic, sitting amidst the party trying to hide from too many prying eyes by keeping my head down and downing glass after glass. At some point, I’d convinced a waiter to leave a bottle at the table so I could drink uninterrupted.

  But that was a few drinks ago and the bottle was now empty. I tipped back the last of the bubbles and frowned. My eyes scanned the room, grumpily watching while everyone else had a great time.Then I felt familiar pressure in my bladder. I had to find a restroom.

  I wobbled to the back of the hall where the bathrooms were set up. Ripping off my shoes, I went through the first door I could find.

  Dropping the heels, I quickly made my way into the stall, plopping down on the seat, practically bursting from the amount of liquid I’d consumed.

  My head was resting forward into my hands and I sucked in air greedily through my nose as I relieved my bladder. I was drunk. The room was spinning and my stomach swirled angrily as if it was ready to be emptied of its contents right then and there. Outside of the stall, I heard the door open and footsteps moving through the room. I saw a pair of mens dress shoes pause right outside the stall. Then a loud knock on the door.

  A sound escaped my mouth. Loud and clipped. A mixture between a hiccup and a burp. I hurriedly covered my mouth, trying to hide.

  “Miss, I know you’re in there,” the masculine voice said.

  I shook my head, foolishly thinking that if I just kept quiet he would go away.

  “I have your shoes,” he chuckled, “and I can see your dress.

  Are you okay in there?”

  I sighed, chewing on my bottom lip, thoughtfully before answering, “Yes…I’m fine.”

  “Do you need me to get someone in here to help you out?”

  “No! I’ll be ok.”

  Another chuckle, “Well just so you know, this is the men’s room.

  So someone else might find you in here,” I looked up as his fingers folded over the door of the stall. He was right. I couldn’t just sit in here and hide. Besides, I’m sure someone would be looking for me sooner or later.

  I rubbed my eyes, trying to will away the dizzy feeling. A couple steadying breaths and I reached forward to disengage the lock. The man pulled the door open and I blinked repeatedly, adjusting to the light flooding into the dark stall. I couldn’t make out his face, but he could clearly see mine.

  “Oh, Miss Prescott, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He held his hands up as he took a step backwards.

  I glanced down, noticing I was still sitting on the toilet. My eyes closed. Shit. Thankfully the black dress I was wearing flowed over my spread knees and down to the floor. He couldn’t actually see anything.

  But still.

  I reached forward, slamming the door of the stall shut before standing and yanking my panties up from around my ankles. I pulled the skirt of the dress back down and flushed before padding out of the stall.

  “I’m sor…” I started to apologize, but realized the bathroom was empty. I must’ve scared him away. Shit, of course I did. The man saw me sitting on the damn toilet. I would have left too if I was in his shoes.

  My stilettos sparkled as the chandelier lighting hit them. At least he had set them on the counter first. I washed my hands, using the excess water to fluff the mass of curls on my head. Staring at my reflection, I took in my appearance. My lipstick had smudged and my mascara was running slightly, but if you didn’t look too carefully, I seemed fine. I pinched my cheeks hard to bring back some of the natural flush that had drained from feeling nauseated and tossed my hair over to one side.

  I looked just fine.

  Tipping precariously in my shoes, I exited the bathroom slowly.

  Praying that no one would see me leaving the men’s room. The last thing I needed was another Jason Robert Brown rant about propriety.

  As the door closed behind me, I breathed a sigh of relief that no one was around and headed back to the party. The crowd hadn’t thinned one bit. This was definitely going to be one that lasted all night. I grabbed the nearest waiter as he started to whiz by.

  “Can I have a water please?” He nodded before zipping off to the kitchen.

  The jazz band that had been playing earlier had long gone and was replaced by a new one, lead by a singer with bright red hair. In her slinky red dress with a slit up the side, she looked every bit the part of Jessica Rabbit. I stifled a drunken giggle at the comparison, but the resemblance was uncanny. Her voice was smooth and seductive and

  their music seemed to pull everyone from their tables onto the dance floor.

  The waiter reappeared with a tall glass of water and a straw. I happily sipped the cool drink, hoping it would quell some of the champagne effects. I wanted to leave, but there was no way I’d be getting permission to do that anytime soon. I briefly considered taking a car and driving myself, but with the amount of alcohol I’d consumed, I didn’t trust myself to not injure myself or someone else. As usual, I was a prisoner. I’d never been to jail, but I knew firsthand that a cell didn’t have to be cold slabs of concrete and metal bars to be just as stifling.

  A warm hand pressed down on my lower back. I stiffened
as Jason moved from behind me to tower over me, blocking my view of anything else.

  “A dance,” he hissed, his voice just low enough for my ears.

  I took a step backward from him. His domineering presence was suffocating. “No.” I focused my gaze on a far off point away from him.

  “I wasn’t asking.” His hand slithered around my wrist as the other pressed against my back once again, pulling me closer to him. My body was stiff and unrelenting as he swayed to the seductive tune flowing from the singers lips. “Loosen up, Alina. No need to draw anymore attention to yourself tonight.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said through gritted teeth. I hated his hands on me. My hand pushed against his chest, aiming for more distance.

  His grip on my lower back tightened. Fingers digging through my dress and into my flesh. He sneered down at me, “I don’t understand why you have to make every little thing so damn difficult, but you do. All you had to do tonight was sit still, be pretty, and smile. But you are insufferable. And since you’re making it damn near impossible for me to do my job, you’re going to feel my wrath.”