Free Wrecked Book 2 by Rachel Hanna Page B

me a moment later, slipping out of me. We were both sweaty and breathless, and I couldn ’ t stop smiling. He pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around me and before I could even question it, or anything else, I fell asleep in his arms.
     
    I woke up hours later. It was early morning, the sun just barely going up. I found myself sore and a little achy, but feeling good. Happy even. The problems that had been plaguing and tormenting me lately seemed to have vanished — or at least been pushed aside for now.
    The world seemed manageable and as I rolled over onto my side, I realized why.
    Logan was asleep, looking peaceful and calm in a way that I ’ d never seen him before. He was laying on his chest, his back exposed to me. It too was covered with tattoos, each one a mark of a scar that had been given to him.
    I could only guess from his father.
    I reached out, trailing over the lines with a feather soft touch so as not to wake him. A small smile crossed my lips. The secrets he ’ d shared with me last night had made me look at him in a new light. He was damaged, sure, and he still had that wild streak through him that would likely never go away.
    But he wasn ’ t just a bad boy anymore. He was a man with a dark past that he was trying desperately to escape from.
    We had more in common than either of us could have guessed.
    Slipping carefully out of bed, managing not to wake him, I slipped on one of my oversized grey sleep shirts and headed downstairs to the kitchen. I was starving and toyed with the idea of making breakfast for both me and Logan. Maybe even bring it to him in bed …
    I was grinning like an idiot when I made it to the bottom of the stairs and turned towards the kitchen. Before I got there, however, there was a knock at the door.
    I frowned, glancing at my watch. It was just past six in the morning. Who would be stopping by this early?
    Changing direction, I moved to the front door instead, knowing for a fact that the rest of the house was still asleep. I gripped the doorknob and opened the door, and then froze.
    My heart stopped for what felt like three full seconds, my breath caught somewhere in my chest.
    Standing on my porch was an attractive young woman, only eighteen years old, with long summer brown hair and dark green eyes. She was wearing a black dress that showed exactly how thin she was — too thin — and emphasized her pale skin. Her full lips were in a straight line, her expression frozen in one of seriousness and lingering pain.
    “ It ’ s been a long time Adrianna, ” she said in that soft voice that was too familiar to me.
    She can ’ t be here, it ’ s not possible.
    “ Miranda. ”
     
    THE END
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Copyright @ 2014 Rachel Hanna
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.
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.
     
    Rachel Hanna
    www.RachelHannaRomance.com