Saving Grace (Available in paperback and eBook-SAMPLE)

Prologue

This story is going to be a little darker than my other stories. I promise not to get too graphic with my description.  I hope you all like the new story. :)

She was being followed. Her heart pounding in her chest, she quickened her pace, resisting the urge to run. The footsteps behind her grew louder. Trying not to give into the fear coursing through her, she hurried across the dark parking lot to her car.

As she approached the car, she pulled her keys out of her pocket. Her hands were shaking so badly she almost dropped them. Pressing the unlock button on the key-chain, she opened the door and moved to get in. Rough hands grabbed her, hauling her backward against a hard body. A strong arm wrapped around her. The fear she had been keeping in check broke free, and she started to shake.

"Hello, Grace," a deep voice said in her ear. "What's your hurry?"

"Please," she croaked, trembling. "Please, let me go."

"I can't do that." The arm around her chest tightened, and she whimpered. "I have plans for you." He raised his hand in front of her face and showed her the knife he had. Grace's eyes grew wide, and her heart skipped a beat. "You like it? I have quite a collection of knives, but I must say this one is my favorite. It's the sharpest one I have. Let me demonstrate for you how sharp it is."

"No." Even though she knew it was futile, she struggled to get loose. All she could think of was her unborn child and how she had to survive for her.

"Stop struggling," he growled, bringing the knife closer to her face.

"W-why are y-you d-doing this?" she stuttered.

"Why?" he said, sounding more calm. "It's simple really. I want to hear you scream-hear you beg for your life. I want to feel your blood on my hands and then I want to watch as the life drains from your body."

His words made Grace's blood run cold. Trembling uncontrollably, she began to fight as she had never fought before. She managed to elbow him in the stomach and received a blow to the side of the head. Pain engulfed her, and she cried out. Next thing she knew he was forcing her to the ground and pinning her hands above her head, holding them in his punishing grip.

"I'm going to make your death slow and painful." He lowered the knife to her face and caressed her cheek lightly with the blade. "You are lovely. It's a shame we can't spend more time together."

"Please," Grace said, forcing the word past her tight throat as she stared up at the figure hovering over her. She couldn't see his face. He was wearing one of those ski masks that had holes for the eyes and the mouth. "Please, my baby-"

"No amount of begging is going to make me stop." He tapped the tip of the blade against her lips. "Tell me something, Grace. Do you believe in God?"

"Y-yes."

He smirked. "Then you should pray. Perhaps your merciful God will save you. Now where should I begin? Should I start with your face, or should I start lower?"

"N-no." She squirmed beneath him, feeling helpless and frightened. Tears filled her eyes and spilled over.

"I'll start with your face." He leaned in close and smiled at her. "Would you like me to kill you now and end your suffering? Hmm . . . I don't think so. There's no fun in doing things quickly. I like to take my time and do it right."

"You sick freak," Grace sobbed.

He chuckled softly. "Sweetheart, I've been called worse. Now enough talking. The hour is growing late."

"You don't-"

He pressed the blade to her skin and slowly dragged it along her cheek. White-hot pain tore through her and she screamed, writhing in agony. Blood poured from the wound, ran down her cheek, and dripped onto the ground. He caught a drop of the scarlet liquid on his finger and examined it. "Beautiful color, blood."

"Help me," Grace screamed at the top of her lungs. "Help-" He punched her in the mouth. Her upper lip split open, and blood trickled into her mouth. The hot coppery taste made her gag.

"You asked for it," he growled, "and you're going to get more-much more." He hit her in the face again, this time his fist connected with her left eye. She saw stars. "You're not so lovely now."

"Go to hell," she uttered in a ragged voice.

"Not tonight," he said, using the knife to cut open her blouse and expose her skin to his hungry gaze. He dragged the tip of the blade between her breasts, watching with fascination as blood rose to the surface. "Such love-"

"Get off her," a male voice yelled.

"Damn it," he muttered. "I was hoping we wouldn't be interrupted. I'm going to have to leave you, Grace, but this isn't over. I will finish this when the time is right. I'll be seeing you." He released her and ran off into the night.

Free, Grace tried to move and groaned when her body protested.

"Sweet Jesus, you're pregnant," the man said, squatting down beside her.

Grace peered up at him through a fog of tears and pain. "Please, help me."

"I will," he said gently, removing his t-shirt. "What's your name?"

"Grace," she breathed.

"Mine is Wiley," he told her. "Listen, Grace, I'm going to have to apply pressure to your cut to stop the bleeding. I'm not going to lie to you. It's going to hurt. I'm sorry I can't be more gentle."

He folded his shirt and firmly pressed it against the wound on her chest. She groaned. "I know it hurts. I'm sorry." With his free hand he grabbed his phone from the pocket of his jeans. "Hold on, Grace. I'm calling 911. Help is on the way."

Grace closed her eyes and thanked God for bringing this man along when he did.