Depravity Delivered (Mission Mercenaries #4) Read Online Marie James

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Dark, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Mission Mercenaries Series by Marie James
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
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I give her a quick nod, wrapping my arms around her. I don’t hesitate to bury my face in her hair, wondering how Mom and Dad would’ve handled today. I know it would look different from lingering way past my welcome. I should’ve left not long after arriving, let Alani settle into her new independence, but I just couldn’t stomach the thought of dropping her off and heading back home so quickly.

“Trying to get rid of me already?” I tease, as I pull back from the hug.

“Yes,” she says without hesitation, a smile drawing up her cheeks.

I can tell she’s teasing, but it still hits me harshly.

“You call me if you need anything. I know you’re going to be tempted to get a job, but remember, we talked about just using the first semester to settle in and get the hang of everything. I’ve had the trust set up, so you have more spending money your freshman year. You don’t have to worry about work until this summer.”

“I know,” she says, but I also know Alani.

If she thinks she’s more of a burden or if there’s a way to help any, she’ll take it. She’d never tell me, but I don’t doubt she’ll be walking the streets of Lindell looking for “help wanted” signs in the windows no later than tomorrow afternoon.

She gives me one more quick hug before walking toward the door.

“I’ll see you at Thanksgiving.”

I nod, squeezing her hand as I walk past her.

“Call me if you need anything.”

“I will. I promise.”

There’s something final and a little unnerving about how quickly she closes her dorm room door at my back, but I know exactly what she’s feeling. I felt the same way when my parents dropped me off on my first day of college. Alani wants the freedom that comes with no longer living at home. She’ll go through all the stages I went through, which means I also know to expect a call within the week, with her complaining about how homesick she is.

I dart out of the way seconds before colliding with a girl carrying a box she can’t see over. She mutters an apology when she walks past, and I refuse to wonder about her story, and why she doesn’t have someone here to help her. Alani and I aren’t the only ones who have arrived today without the help of a mom or dad. We aren’t the only ones to have suffered tragedy. It’s something I have to remind myself of often. Especially when I start feeling sorry for the two of us, when I start getting angry about the things we’ve clearly missed out on.

The lump that has been threatening to form all day finally lodges in my throat as I leave the dorm building and make my way to the parking lot.

I press my hands to the top of my car, knowing how dangerous it would be to drive home, as I sob. Internally, I chastise myself. I should have a better grip on things than I do right now. She’ll be fine. What are the chances that tragedy will strike the same family twice? I couldn’t tell you because the internet didn’t exactly give me much when I searched that very question. It also didn’t ease my mind, since it populated too many stories to count about families getting struck twice by tragedy.

I take a final deep breath, turning my head up to the dark sky, before opening my car door.

Feet shuffle behind me, and I turn a little to see whoever may be struggling to get a box from their car, but warmth hits my back. Although I know deep inside it isn’t Alani, my head also doesn’t go to a dark, ominous place, even as an arm wraps around me.

It’s a prank. Some college kids dared to scare me as a frat initiation or something.

But instead of chuckles and an apology for being a jerk, I feel a pinch in the side of my neck.

It doesn’t occur to me to scream for help until after my lips refuse to move.

My body grows heavy, my limbs hanging at my sides, even when I tell them to kick and scratch, to fight whatever this is happening to me.

I try to blink away the heaviness in my eyes, but my vision dulls, the lights of the parking lot shimmering after each blink, until my eyelids are just too heavy to keep open. The last thing I think about before my death is how grateful I am that I’ve set up Alani’s trust to ensure her school is paid for. Hopefully, she won’t grieve me so long that she runs out of money before graduation.

Chapter 1

Ayla

Present Day

I stare down at the bruise on my forearm, unable to recollect how it got there. It’s not from clumsiness. It’s not marking my skin because I hit it on something. I can’t recall the exact moment I was hurt because I’m hurt so often, it all starts to meld together.


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