Dirty Little Tease (Book 2) The Dirty Little Secrets Series

Prologue-Lance

Hello, Lovelies,

Thank you for giving this book a chance.  I hope everyone is excited to read Lance and Becca's story.  Yes, you will see Asher and Lena in this book.  So, if you missed them, you won't miss them for long.

Also, there will be a first chapter after this.  Please be patient.  It takes me a little while to upload.  Upload schedule is the same as Dirty Little Secrets which is Wednesdays before 5 p.m. Central.

I adore all of you.  I hope you enjoy this Prologue.  If you do, please consider voting.  Comments are appreciated and if you have any questions, comment or send me a message.  

-XXXXX Amanda 

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I stood in the middle of my bedroom, the screaming echoing around me. My brother, Gideon, stared at me with eyes the same shade of blue as my own as worry crossed his face. He winced as the familiar sound of flesh hitting flesh reached us.

He was a year younger than me at fourteen, but we had both lived with this our entire lives. He ran his hand through his blonde hair, and I realized again how much we looked alike but it was because of the very man who was beating the hell out of our mother. It was awful when you started hating looking in the mirror because you looked like a monster.

"Lance," Gideon said, wincing, the guilt moving over his face, "I called grandpa."

I stood perfectly still afraid to breathe, afraid to move before facing my brother because my father had kept his mask firmly in place around other people. Everyone else believed he was a doting father and husband, "Did he believe you?"

"He had to when he heard it," he said, wincing, "He's on his way here. Dad won't be able to hide what he does anymore."

As if on cue, the doorbell rang, and all fighting ceased. I straightened worried about what would happen next because my mother always took up for him and I didn't see that changing.

I could hear my grandfather's voice as he moved into the house. My mother's crying ceased.

"This was my fault," she sobbed as I moved out of the room with Gideon behind me, "I did this."

My heart ached as I wondered if she actually believed the lies coming from her mouth. My grandfather, Maxwell Travis, stood beside the door of our home in the upper crust neighborhood of Briar, California. He was gritting his teeth and I could see by the way that he opened and closed his hands that he wanted to hit my father who stood across the room with his white shirt unbuttoned and his tie hanging loosely around his neck. His shirt sleeves were rolled up showcasing bulging muscle.

His eyes moved toward me, narrowing on my face as I glanced from my grandfather to my father, "You did this," he growled, causing me to flinch because I knew what was coming. I curled my hands into fists as he rushed toward me, raising my fist, giving him an uppercut to his chin. My father stumbled, stunned that I had defended myself.

"Pack your bags," my grandfather ordered, pride seeping through his anger, and I nodded turning toward Gideon, straightening as my mother's shrill voice reached me.

"We're not leaving!" She screamed panicked, "We're not leaving with you dad!"

I moved away from them, hoping my grandfather could talk some sense into her but I could hear her pleas the whole time I packed, glancing around a room furnished with everything that made my friends jealous but they didn't know the stress of living in a house full of screaming and hitting and threats.

I zipped up my bag and waited for Gideon to come out of the room. As we descended the stairs my grandfather was nose to nose with his daughter.

"You have a choice...Stay or come with me," he said, his eyes narrowing on her, "But you are not making the boys stay in this mess."

As I took the final step, my mother rushed toward me, slapping my cheek hard enough to cause my head to snap sideways, "How dare you do this?" Tears flowed down her face.

My bottom lip trembled as I caressed the hot flesh of my cheek, but I still loved her enough not to be angry. I wanted to save her, "Mom, please come with us."

"You want me to leave this?" She asked, her eyes wide, "You want me to leave him?"

I swallowed, realizing that my mother's materialistic nature was going to get her killed, "Yes," I whispered.

"You can leave," she said, glancing at Gideon, her face still bloody and bruised, "You both can but I'm staying."

I nodded as I glared at my father. His face turned red in anger, "If you leave, don't come back."

I straightened and though I was terrified and hurt, I chose not to show it, "I don't intend to," I said, turning to follow my grandfather out the door with Gideon following close behind. As I got into the car, the last tear I cried for a woman fell down my cheek.