Fighting Fate (Fighting #7) - JB Salsbury Page 0,130

work forward. I love you, Dia.

As always, a huge thank you to Elizabeth Reyes for encouraging me to write when I was terrified to try. I will always owe everything to you. Thank you for taking the time to invest in me. I will never forget you and remain more grateful than words could explain.

Huge thank you to my incredible agent MacKenzie Fraser-Bub, who’s always fighting in my corner and believes in the writer I am and the writer I can become.

Thank you to Theresa Wegand for editing the entire Fighting Series. You’ve lived through all these books, and I’m forever grateful for your guidance.

I’m beyond grateful to my family, who’ve been my #1 fans. You’ve helped make this incredible ride so sweet. I love you all to death.

Ginormous thank you to all The Fighting Girls who’ve cheered me on, pushed me when I felt like giving up, and who constantly remind me that romance readers are the most beautiful, compassionate, and passionate women on earth. You’ve blown me away with your support and your love for each other. Every book I write I write for you.

Free to Fly…

SPLIT

A standalone novel

by JB Salsbury

Releases November 15, 2016

New York Times bestselling author J. B. Salsbury delivers a contemporary romance with a suspenseful twist.

After her career goes sour, Shyann finds herself jobless, penniless, and packing for her hometown—where unwanted memories await.

Lucas needs the quiet life. And that’s exactly what he’s found in Payson, Arizona. For the first time in his life, he finally feels like his mind is in check. Lucas has suffered from blackouts since he was a child. He knows he’s not like other guys.

But when Lucas meets his boss’s daughter, her probing eyes and personal questions pick away at his barriers. Shyann is everything he should never have…everything he wants. And soon the blackouts return. The last thing he wants is to expose how dangerous he can be—but he’s helpless, and it could cost him Shyann.

Prologue

Ten years ago…

It’s dark. Like when I hide under my bed and can’t see my hand in front of my face. But I’m not under my bed now.

Where am I? Cold seeps into my body. My head rings, static blares in my ears.

I blacked out again, but this is different. Everything about this feels different.

There’s shuffling…some kind of panic in the air. My heart pounds and with the rapid blood flow brings a sharp stabbing pain that explodes in my neck. I try to open my eyes, push at the dark and reach for light, but a sticky coating covers my face. I suck in a breath, cough against the thick sludge that clogs my nose and throat. The metallic tang of blood turns my gut. I wretch, hacking up something thick, and agony slices through my jaw.

“Oh fuck!” The deep masculine voice rips through my panic. “This one’s alive!”

I try again to open my eyes.

“We need an EMT!”

Why are there men here?

Mom hates men.

I need to get up, find somewhere to hide. Mom always gets angry after one of my blackouts and with the pain, oh God the pain… I can’t take one of her punishments.

My arms ache but I force them to my eyes to clear the dark haze that clouds my vision. Weight presses against my shoulder, keeping me down. No, I have to get out of here.

“Don’t move.” The voice, I try to place it. A neighbor? I don’t know who else—“ETA on the ambulance! This kids gonna bleed out!”

“What…” My voice makes no sound, only a low gurgle within my chest. I try to push up, reach out. Help me! Shadows dance across my vision.

“God have mercy—we’re gonna lose him!”

“Stay down!” A male voice is close. “Oh shit…don’t move!”

I slip in and out. Voices frantic, but muted in my ears.

“Neighbors said he’s fifteen…”

“…fucking blood bath…”

“Help…” I cough and reach for the fire blazing in my jaw.

A firm grip wraps my neck. I struggle against it as it cuts off what little breath I’m able to take. “Hang on, son.” It loosens and I suck in a gulp of blessed air mixed with fluid that makes me cough.

“He’s gonna drown in his own blood if we don’t get him—”

“Son, can you hear us?”

I nod as best I can, reaching for the light. Don’t blackout. Don’t give up.

“Did you do this, boy?” The thick growl of a different man sounds in the distance. His voice deeper. Angrier.

I’m in so much trouble. I want to tell him I don’t remember. I have a

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