Read Online Unlikely Hero (Atlanta #1) by Kemmie Michaels - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kemmie Michaels
Tags: Erotic Romance
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He humiliated me and grabbed me hard enough to leave bruises.
I was so scared, so far beyond terrified - completely frozen and helpless until some drunk couple stumbled in trying to find some alone time. They saved me without even knowing they did. It would have been so much worse if they hadn't come in. But that was it for me. No more fun, no more trust, no more good people. Every nice person was just a potential threat. I didn’t trust myself to know the difference anymore between good people and the scary ones. I was broken. I still am, I suppose. So that's my story, just one moment of that terror you know too well, but it was enough to almost kill me.
~E
E~
I noticed the tear stains on your story. I’m sorry it still hits you that hard when you think about what happened. I know you didn't tell me so I could defend you, but I want to. I want to find that entitled bastard and teach him a thing or two about real terror. But I know that's not why you told me. I get it — it was only a moment of terror, no real physical damage done beyond the bruising...but only a moment is all it takes to change your view of the world. It's not easy coming back from that.
That's also why you're beautiful. It's not just your eyes and your smile and your hair. It's your power and your resolve that make you shine.
~M
M~
I can tell you get it. No one I told ever has before. How is it that you can so easily understand? It seems a little surreal. And stop calling me beautiful — you're making me blush.
~E
E~
Can't help understanding anymore than I can help calling you beautiful. It's just how I see things. So, tell me something new. I get your story, I see your strength. But that's not the only thing there is to you. I won't let that moment of terror be the only thing I know about you. That does not define you. I already got all those childhood memories, too, but nothing from who you are now. Care to share?
~M
Erin and Marcus spent even more weeks writing back and forth to each other, every night. Not a single evening passed without a note between the two. Weekends seemed to drag for both of them because there were no notes to look forward to for two entire days. The mundane routine of each of their lives had been broken, and they both loved having something new to look forward to every day.
Many times each of them would marvel at how well they were beginning to know each other, without ever having met. Marcus had only seen her picture, and Erin had not seen him at all.
Erin was amazed when she realized M was her best friend. It seemed kind of pathetic to have a best friend pen-pal whom she’d never met, but she didn’t care. He listened to her, understood her, heard about all her damage, and cared about her anyway. And since their friendship grew only in the journal, at arm’s length, the connection was safe in every way.
Marcus patted himself on the back for finding the only woman in Atlanta that didn’t like to go shopping and get manicures. Truthfully, the more he found out about her idiosyncrasies, the more he liked Erin. She was smart, genuine, and strong. He was comfortable with her.
He opened up to her more than he had ever talked to anyone in his life, in some ways even more than his sister. Cassie knew his deepest secrets without having to be told. With Erin, Marcus shared himself by choice.
The most shocking part for him came from Erin’s reaction. She seemed to appreciate his willingness to open up, rather than finding him weak or strange. Every question she asked and every word she wrote made him want more of her — more words, more stories, more time.
Every other woman he knew was trivial. The extent of his relationships before this written affair never got further than a series of hot hook-ups with cute cage-groupies who would throw themselves at any fighter who paid attention to them.
He enjoyed them, but that was the end of the relationship: casual and fun. They were nothing
I was so scared, so far beyond terrified - completely frozen and helpless until some drunk couple stumbled in trying to find some alone time. They saved me without even knowing they did. It would have been so much worse if they hadn't come in. But that was it for me. No more fun, no more trust, no more good people. Every nice person was just a potential threat. I didn’t trust myself to know the difference anymore between good people and the scary ones. I was broken. I still am, I suppose. So that's my story, just one moment of that terror you know too well, but it was enough to almost kill me.
~E
E~
I noticed the tear stains on your story. I’m sorry it still hits you that hard when you think about what happened. I know you didn't tell me so I could defend you, but I want to. I want to find that entitled bastard and teach him a thing or two about real terror. But I know that's not why you told me. I get it — it was only a moment of terror, no real physical damage done beyond the bruising...but only a moment is all it takes to change your view of the world. It's not easy coming back from that.
That's also why you're beautiful. It's not just your eyes and your smile and your hair. It's your power and your resolve that make you shine.
~M
M~
I can tell you get it. No one I told ever has before. How is it that you can so easily understand? It seems a little surreal. And stop calling me beautiful — you're making me blush.
~E
E~
Can't help understanding anymore than I can help calling you beautiful. It's just how I see things. So, tell me something new. I get your story, I see your strength. But that's not the only thing there is to you. I won't let that moment of terror be the only thing I know about you. That does not define you. I already got all those childhood memories, too, but nothing from who you are now. Care to share?
~M
Erin and Marcus spent even more weeks writing back and forth to each other, every night. Not a single evening passed without a note between the two. Weekends seemed to drag for both of them because there were no notes to look forward to for two entire days. The mundane routine of each of their lives had been broken, and they both loved having something new to look forward to every day.
Many times each of them would marvel at how well they were beginning to know each other, without ever having met. Marcus had only seen her picture, and Erin had not seen him at all.
Erin was amazed when she realized M was her best friend. It seemed kind of pathetic to have a best friend pen-pal whom she’d never met, but she didn’t care. He listened to her, understood her, heard about all her damage, and cared about her anyway. And since their friendship grew only in the journal, at arm’s length, the connection was safe in every way.
Marcus patted himself on the back for finding the only woman in Atlanta that didn’t like to go shopping and get manicures. Truthfully, the more he found out about her idiosyncrasies, the more he liked Erin. She was smart, genuine, and strong. He was comfortable with her.
He opened up to her more than he had ever talked to anyone in his life, in some ways even more than his sister. Cassie knew his deepest secrets without having to be told. With Erin, Marcus shared himself by choice.
The most shocking part for him came from Erin’s reaction. She seemed to appreciate his willingness to open up, rather than finding him weak or strange. Every question she asked and every word she wrote made him want more of her — more words, more stories, more time.
Every other woman he knew was trivial. The extent of his relationships before this written affair never got further than a series of hot hook-ups with cute cage-groupies who would throw themselves at any fighter who paid attention to them.
He enjoyed them, but that was the end of the relationship: casual and fun. They were nothing
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