Fractured Souls

Contents Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Tamara ‘Tammy’ Wilson Acknowledgments About the Author Also by Jessa Copyright © 2023 Jessa James All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author. Brief quotes are permitted in the instance of reviews or critical articles. This book is intended for readers 18 and older, due to adult content and language. This is a work of fiction. Any names, places, characters, events, or incidents come from the author’s imagination and are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Cover designed by MiblArt Edited by Ashley Oliver Formatting by Jennifer Laslie For you. Become your own mother-fucking warrior princess. Trigger Warnings Abuse from family members, mentions of suicide with flashbacks of attempts, murder, mention of rape, mentions of sex trafficking, mention of drug use, depression, violence, and foul language. Author’s Note Please note that this is an extreme slow-burn romance. There is no relationship building in book one. Book one is just the start to Harley’s crazy story, but it is well worth the wait. Our girl ends up with three love interests she does not have to pick between. This story will also include m/m in later books. I hope you stick around for the ride because I promise, this is just the beginning. Spotify Playlist Prologue August 18th, 2015 As I push the slider open, clutching onto my daughter's arm, I realize my mistake of not having checked for anyone outside first. A man shoves me back into the house and then punches me so hard I fall to the ground. My jaw starts to ache, and I feel blood dripping from my mouth. I hear my little girl scream as three more men come in with the first one. One of them that I faintly recognize from years ago grabs my girl and holds her away as she cries and tries to fight his hold. His cold, dead eyes look at me, and he smiles. His dirty teeth are on full display. My mind threatens to take me back to a dark place, but I fight it. I have to fight for my girl. The other three that I don't recognize lift me and slam me down on a chair. I kick and hit, but I am no match for three large men, so they easily tie me to the chair. I look over at my daughter, tears streaming down her face as her eyes are wide with terror. A level of fear I am all too familiar with but never wanted her to experience. But I was stupid. So, so stupid. I let myself get comfortable with our life here. Then the three men start to beat the shit out of me. I try to be strong for my baby, biting my tongue to hold back my screams, but I don't think I can be when I know there is no getting out of this. The pain of watching my daughter have to see this outweighs any physical pain I feel. Which leads me to say things I shouldn't. “What do you bastards want? The old fucker couldn't come deal with me himself? How did you even find me?” I demand as I glare at them. Not that they care; they laugh and joke, ignoring me. Until his voice rings out in the room, causing the tears I was holding back to leak. This is the end. “Oh, don’t worry, the old fucker is here to deal with you himself,” he says as he comes towards me from the front door. I feel my heartrate pick up. Fuck, we are going to die. Unless I can get my baby girl to remember what I told her repeatedly. "If anything ever happens, you find an opening and you run. You run, Harley. You leave me and run.” I told her that on a weekly basis, always making sure she repeated it back. Knowing the chances of this happening. I needed to feel like she might survive it. As long as no one finds her if she survives. I take a deep breath and glance at my girl. My brave, brave girl. She has tears streaming down her beautiful face, her bright hazel eyes dulled to an almost brown color right now. I give her a tiny smile and mouth, It's going to be okay. She shakes her head and tries to fight the hold of the man holding her, scratching his arms and kicking her legs, but it's no use. He may be old now, with a large belly, but he still is stronger than she is. But if she can escape his firm grip, she may be able to outrun him. I shut my eyes and lock my emotions down tight, not wanting my baby to see her mom in pain and begging for her life. I'll stay silent as they torture me. It wouldn't be the first time. I can lock my pain down if it protects her from more trauma. The older fucker laughs in my face, his wretched hot breath filling my nostrils, and I have to hold back a gag. I hate the smell of cigarettes. He begins beating me over and over again, making me as weak as possible. My ribs crack. My baby screams and sobs. I keep my eyes shut, wishing this was a dream. I bite my tongue hard, trying not to cry out. Blood pools in my mouth, and I have to spit so I don't choke. My