His Dark Secret - Part 1 (Erotic Romance Serial Novel)

Copyright © 2013

All
rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or
transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or
other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of
the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical
reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Copyright © 2013

All characters appearing in this
work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely
coincidental.

Warning: This work contains
scenes of graphic sexual nature and it is written for adults only(18+). All
characters depicted in this story are over 18 years of age.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter
Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

I had spent much of my trip from
Des Moines to LAX sleeping uncomfortably in my seat. It wasn’t until the plane
hit a pocket of turbulence while descending towards the coast that I was jolted
up, the plastic buckle of the seat belt pressing hard against my waist. The
P.A. system crackled overhead, punctuated by the pinging of the seatbelt sign.

“Sorry for the disturbance folks.
We’ve run into some headwinds. A little bumpy for our descent, but we’re on
course to land at 7:30 pm, Pacific Standard. At this time, I would ask that you
put on your seat belts, secure your flight trays and return your seats to the
upright position.”

My stomach rose up into my chest as
the plane angled down, heightening my nerves. It wasn’t so much the flying that
had me nervous, even though this was my first time. No, it was where I was
headed that had my insides writhing over each other. Since leaving Elgin, a
small town if there ever was one, I’d only ever seen towns just as small. The
idea of a big, sprawling city like Los Angeles was strange and, I’ll admit,
terrifying.

Before the trip, I had done some
research of my new home, and what struck me was the ugliness of the city, taken
in as a whole. Compared to pictures of New York City, Los Angeles seemed like a
mass of concrete poured out over the desert.

The intercom crackling interrupted
my thoughts.

“If you look out the left side of
the aircraft, you’ll get an excellent view of the City of Angels as we make our
descent.”

I lifted the shade, left down
while I slept, to take a peek. My heart jumped to my throat. None of the
pictures I’d seen had been by night. It was like the stars had been stolen from
the sky, scattered in new constellations that blinked whites, greens, and reds.
It was gorgeous, and I forgot my anxiety for a bit.

I found it again while waiting in
baggage claim, suitcase in hand, looking out for Jenny. She hadn’t picked up
when I called, and my imagination was running away with worry. It had been six
years since I’d seen her, I was afraid I wouldn’t recognize her. Or she
wouldn’t recognize me. Or worse, somehow she’d forgotten when I got in, or got
held up, and I’d have to find my way through the city all alone.

I was just about to head outside,
wait there or catch a cab, when my phone rang.

“Samantha, sorry, my phone’s been
dying, I just stepped into the terminal. Where are you?”

“I’m standing outside baggage
claim.”

“That’s where I’m at. Hold on, you
over there in the brown coat? Blue bags?”

“That sounds right.”

A second later I caught sight of
her blonde curls bobbing through the crowd, waving her hand at me. Her blue
eyes crinkled in a smile as we hugged.

“Hope you haven’t been waiting
long.”

“It was no trouble.”

“Was the flight okay?”

“No trouble at all.”

There was a drawn out pause as we
tried to think of something to say, the years standing between us. Finally, as
if struck, I blurted, “I don’t know how to thank you, letting me stay here
after all this time.”

Jenny shook her head. “Anything
for you Sammy.” She took me by the arm. “We’ll get you settled in, then catch
up some, ‘kay?”

The drive to the apartment took
time, the traffic on the highway moving at a snail’s pace, but I didn’t care. I
spent the time looking at the city, the lights as beautiful down on the ground
as they had been in the plane. Eventually we were nestled in the tan embrace of
Jenny’s Santa Monica condo, my bags stacked in the spare bedroom.

“Sure you don’t want anything to
drink? Haven’t got much, but there’s a decent red in here.”

“No thanks,” I replied. “Just some
water. Wine goes to my head.”

Jenny sat down on the sofa,
handing me a glass of water, sipping her wine out of a mug. The same awkward
silence from the airport rose up between us.

“Really, anything will go to my
head,” I joked, smiling.

“A real cheap date then,” Jenny
offered. Things weren’t exactly like old times, but the tension eased up.

“So what have you been doing since
college?”

Jenny rolled her eyes. “Nothing
worthwhile, really. I play with a few bands when I get a chance, but that’s
more for fun than work.” She took a sip. “Doesn’t really pay the bills.
Luckily, some friends from USC turned me on to a gig writing commercial jingles
about three years ago, and I’ve been making my way doing that.”

“Sounds kind of fun.”

“Its mind numbing. But I get into
contact with some creative people.”

“Well that’s good.”

“Yeah.”

Jenny sipped on her wine, mulling
something over. Or building up her resolve was more like it. She sipped again
before asking, “So how is Elgin?”

It was my turn to think things
over. I had left out a lot of details in my talks these past few months with
Jenny, not wanting to tell her everything that had been going on. I had told
her I was having trouble paying for an apartment on my own, and she had
extended the invitation to stay here. No explanation for leaving Elgin, why I
was on my own. Why I no longer talked about Jamison.

“Actually, I haven’t been in Elgin
for a while. Almost two years.”

“My goodness, Sammy, what
happened?”

“Honestly, things kind of fell
apart. After college, it made sense to go back home. I wanted to be near mom
and dad, and I wanted to be with Jamison. He had the farm, could support me, he
said. And I loved him, still do.” That part hit home. In my time alone, I
hadn’t ever said out loud about how I still loved Jamison. I sighed. “Things
looked good. The farm had been doing well, I didn’t need to work, and Jamison
provided. We were talking about getting married even. But a number of things
changed that. It was the crops at first, something got into them, a bacteria or
virus. When it came time to harvest, there was barely anything worth selling. I
still remember that sickly sweet smell the rotted stalks gave off. Jamison
changed. Started drinking.”

I broke off, not sure how to
continue. Jenny put her mug down, placed a hand on my leg.

“How was he different?”

“The life seemed out of him. His
whole body, his attitude, was defeated. He was mishandling things at that point.
Repairs on the machinery were never done, missed payments on the property. Just
kept sinking further into himself. I kept telling him things were going to work
out, that one bad season wouldn’t pull down the farm. At these times he’d look
at me, say something like ‘Well, since you’re such a smart, college educated
bitch now, why don’t you figure it out?’”

Jenny’s eyes grew wide and angry.
“He didn’t.”

I nodded my head. “That became my
name, the ‘college educated bitch.’ No matter what I told him, or how smart he
thought I was, I couldn’t come up with a solution for the farm. And some small
part of him enjoyed that. Like it was something he could hold over me, or tear
me down with. Next season, we were working at a loss again. Jamison became
unbearable. He was cursing me out, day and night, and I just wanted to help.”

At this point, I realized I was
crying. I was talking, but these two little rivers of tears were running down
my face. I watched again as Jamison transformed before me: broad shoulders, broad
smile, dirty blonde hair waving as he kissed me on my return from college;
Jamison, slumped in the kitchen, a mostly empty clear bottle in his hand,
muttering under his breath. Jenny squeezed my knee, and I continued.

“One day, a few of his workers up
and quit. No notice, just left, saying it wasn’t worth it working for Jamison.
That night, he was a terror. Screaming at the top of his lungs, smashing up the
kitchen. Sent a chair out the window above the sink. Gutted the fridge all
across the room. His eyes. I didn’t want to see them that way again. Cold,
dark-blue anger. So I left. Packed up while he was out working the next day and
caught a bus. I wanted to tell my parents goodbye, but I couldn’t face the
shame of leaving.”

I was bawling at this point and
could barely get a word out. I hadn’t told a word of this to anyone in the last
two years. It was always just one town after another, working in greasy spoons
and coffee shops, barely making rent. And just at the mention that things were
getting tight for me, Jenny offered to put me up. It was too much. Jenny sensed
I had crossed a line in myself. She was holding me now, petting my hair.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“I just, I don’t know what I’m
doing anymore. I don’t have a job, I feel like I’m intruding on you here after
all this time. I mean look at me! I could barely keep things together in the
middle of nowhere, Iowa how am I supposed to get by in L.A.?”

Jenny was rocking me now,
shoo-shooing away my fears.

“None of that matters. You’re
here, and you can stay as long as you need. And as far as work, well this isn’t
small town Iowa anymore. You’re in the City of Angels. Not only will we find
you work there’s a better chance we’ll find you something you like to do. I
read somewhere recently that ten percent of the jobs in L.A. are in a creative
field. You could paint again, or even work on movies! How does that sound?”

No one had been so kind to me in a
long while. Not the way that Jenny was that night. I was still sad and afraid,
but Jenny knew how to lift me up and push me in the right direction. That was
what she was best at.

“That sounds amazing. You’re being
too kind.”

“Oh hush now. After all this time,
you’re still the best friend I’ve got. Get some rest, and we can start lining
something up for you tomorrow.”

I went to bed that night feeling a
whole lot better, less afraid of and more open to the possibilities the future
would hold for me.

The next couple of days, I got a
good sense of L.A. as I commuted across town for interviews. A number of good
opportunities came up. I was especially keen on an opening helping out at an
art studio, but nothing seemed to fit quite right. I was walking out of a café,
trying to clear my head when I caught sight of a green flier posted on the
wall. There were a lot of fliers, advertising shows, art exhibits, restaurants,
but that lime green stuck out from all the rest. The flier read: “Wanted:
Extra’s for upcoming sci-fi feature film,
Chimera
, directed by Scott
Rushmand. All ages and experience levels welcome. Union and Non-Union welcome.
$150 a day plus lunch. Shooting this Saturday at Mythic Studios.”