Hunted (The Half-Breed Prison Book 1) Read online




  Hunted

  The Half-Breed Prison

  Jen L. Grey

  Copyright © 2020 by Jen L. Grey

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  About the Author

  Also by Jen L. Grey

  Chapter One

  My body shook as I got off the bus. So many people had been staring at me on it, and I couldn’t blame them. Mom used to tell me when I got like this, I needed to eat something sweet, but this time, even that hadn’t helped.

  Sweat dripped down into my eyes. It burned, but there wasn’t much I could do. I was only a few blocks away from home now. I needed to get there and take a cold shower. Maybe that would help make me feel at least a little better.

  When I got to my neighborhood, I saw two guys standing next to the neighborhood’s sign at the entry, talking amongst themselves. As I passed by them, the younger guy nodded in my direction.

  That was strange, but I needed to get home now and fast. I was starving and hot, which was an odd combination.

  “Hey, you.” The older one, who appeared to be in his thirties, hollered in my direction. “We’re lost, and we need some help.”

  On a normal day, I would’ve probably stopped and chatted them up. They both were attractive, and there was something about them that drew me, but today there was no chance in hell. “Sorry, I’ve got to get home. Good luck with that.”

  “Wait.” The older one began crossing the street over to me but paused when a neighbor strolled out of his house.

  “Oh, hey, Lexy.” Mr. Stubbs’s forehead creased as he took in my appearance. “Are you okay?” He then glanced back at the guy who was following me.

  “Yeah, I’m not feeling great.” Mr. Stubbs was a nice older man. He had to be somewhere in his late forties and in excellent shape. I pointed back toward the guys. “They’re lost and need directions. Do you mind helping them out?”

  “Of course not.” He strolled over to the guys and smiled. “Where are you trying to head?”

  “We were, uh …” The older one shoved his hands in his pockets and licked his thin bottom lip. His dark eyes followed me as I picked up my pace to get home. “Looking for a John Smith.”

  “John Smith?” Mr. Stubbs shook his head. “We don’t have anyone in the neighborhood with that name, which is odd considering how common of a name that is.”

  I quickened my pace even more when my house came into view. It was close to the end of the dead end street where it backed up to some woods. It had been my solace growing up since I felt at peace around nature. It was there where I finally felt as if I fit in.

  My hands trembled harder as I dug the house key out of my pocket. I was barely able to get it into the deadbolt. As soon as it clicked, I let out a sigh of relief. I swung the door open and hurried inside. For some reason, the urge to slam the door shut and lock it consumed me.

  “Are you okay?” Mom stepped into the hallway and took in my appearance. “You look pale.”

  If I’d felt better, I would’ve said something similar to what’s new, but I just didn’t have the energy. “I don’t feel so well.”

  “Come on.” Mom took my hand and tugged me to the living room. “Lay down on the couch.”

  My room sounded like a better option, but I followed her, not wanting to fight.

  The walls were a light gray color that almost looked white when the sun shone in on the room. Right now, the blinds were drawn, and I laid down onto the L-shaped leather couch.

  “What’s bothering you?” Mom leaned over me and pushed my brown hair that was stuck on my forehead away from my face. “You’re sweating so bad. Are you cold or having chills?”

  “No, I’m so hot.” The heat was cooking me. I bet this is what it felt like in the hot desert sun.

  “How long has this been happening?” Mom’s blonde hair fell around her face as she bent to place her lips on my forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”

  “It started during my last class. I had to leave early.” It was so weird. Her vanilla scent made me thirsty. How was that possible? “I think I need some water.”

  “Coming right up.” Mom gave me her usual smile reserved for the sick with her big hazel eyes full of concern. “I’ll be right back.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to relax. I’d been feeling off more and more lately. I wasn’t sure what to do. Something wanted out, but I had no clue what it was or how to let it go.

  “Here you go.” Mom entered the room with two glasses. “I got you some iced water and some green tea.”

  That sounded heavenly. I sat up and took the glasses from her. “Thank you.”

  “Is there anything else you need?” Mom sat down beside me and bumped her shoulder into mine.

  “Not at the moment.” I took a sip of my water, and fatigue consumed me. “I think I may take a nap.”

  “Alright.” She took the glasses back from me and put them on the table. “Let me know if you need anything. I’m going to get back to work.”

  I laid back down and fell fast asleep.

  “I think we need to tell her.” Mom’s hushed voice woke me from my sleep. “You read that letter. It said if she begins having struggles that we need to call.”

  “We aren’t calling them, Kelly.” Dad’s voice was a whisper yell. “We can handle this on our own.”

  “But what if you’re wrong.” Mom’s footsteps sounded as if she was pacing the kitchen. “We can’t lose her.”

  “We’ve been fine for the last eighteen years.” Dad’s keys jangled.

  He must have just gotten home from work. What in the hell were they talking about?

  “You didn’t see her earlier.” Mom’s voice took on a pleading tone. “It wasn’t normal.”

  “She’s better off with us and not around them.”

  I should have interrupted them to let them know I was awake, but I had to find out what they were talking about first. Who were they talking about? I stood and tiptoed toward the room.

  “I’m not saying you’re wrong.” Mom huffed, and her footsteps paused. “But I don’t want to be too selfish. She’s suffering.”

  “Honey, I know, but I honestly think she’s fine.” Dad shuffled toward mom. “It’s better if she never finds out.”

  “Find out what?” I stepped into the kitchen, and they both froze.

  They were hiding something from me. “Who are you guys talking about?”

  “It’s nothing, dear.” Dad pulled at his khaki pants and tugged the collar of his blue polo shirt. However, his tell was his nose. It always wrinkled when he lied.

  “You’re lying.” I’ve hidden my struggle my whole life. I felt different than the rest, and my school mates felt it too. Every time they looked at me, it was with fear that none of us understood. I learned to try to blend in, but I always was unlucky and out of sorts. “Who are you wanting to call?” Mom would probably crack easier since she already wanted to contact who
ever it was.

  “Why don’t we sit down at the table?” Mom motioned to the kitchen table that was right next to the door leading out to the garage.

  “Kelly …” My Dad narrowed his green eyes at her.

  “No, Jared.” Mom crossed her arms and stomped her foot. “I’ve been wanting to tell her for a while, and you’ve always managed to talk me out of it. She has a right to know, especially now.”

  He ran his hands through his light brown hair. “Dammit, I should have a say in this too.”

  “This isn’t about you.” Mom took my hand and led me to the table. “There’s been something we haven’t told you that you need to know, that we’ve been meaning to tell you.”

  She pointed at the chair. “Please sit down.”

  For some reason, that made me want to run out of the room instead. You know that gut feeling that sits hard on your stomach, and you know your life is going to change. That’s exactly how I felt right at this moment.

  “Okay.” Mom sat next to me and took a deep breath. “I want to start out by saying that you were the perfect baby. Better than anything we ever dreamed of.”

  “And why couldn’t you tell me this?” There had to be a catch.

  “No, that’s not it.” She glanced back at Dad.

  “Fine, there is no changing your mind.” He pulled a chair out on the other side of me and sat down.

  “You were adopted.” Mom bit her bottom lip and reached out, taking my hand that was on the table.

  “What?” This had to be a joke. A cruel one, for sure, but a joke nonetheless.

  “It was quick and easy.” Dad sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “So how did you find me?” I never once doubted that they were my parents. Now, they were telling me they weren’t, not biologically anyway.

  “You were left on our doorstep.” Mom shook her head, and a tear slipped down her face. “We had tried for kids for so long. I had suffered a miscarriage the day you were brought here.”

  “They dropped me off at this door?” What kind of parents do that?

  “Honestly, they did us all a good favor.” Dad gave me a sad smile. “We couldn’t afford to adopt since we had spent so much money on fertility treatments.”

  “But you had to do or pay something for me, right?” From my little knowledge about adoptions, they cost money no matter what.

  “They left all the documents with you.” Mom smiled so wide as she stared off. “You were so cute, and your dark blue eyes landed right on me. I knew it was meant to be.”

  “How did they know you’d take me?” This story sounded too weird … too wild.

  “We don’t know.” Dad leaned back in his chair. “They had paid for the adoption and somehow got it all finalized. We went to the police, concerned about yours and our safety. Despite that, they told us the papers had been finalized and it was a sealed case.”

  “I think their exact words were that someone high up must have done it.” Mom huffed and tapped her fingers on the table. “All we cared about was that you were ours. Our baby. The missing piece to our family.”

  “But you said something about calling them.” I know that I hadn’t dreamed that.

  “They left a phone number.” Dad shifted in his seat and popped his knuckles.

  “After we got back from the police department, I called it.” Mom placed her hands in her lap. “Someone answered… named Jess. She said that she loved you dearly and that’s why she had to give you up. It was the only way to protect you.”

  “How was giving me up protecting me?” If they had left their number, that meant they cared at least a little.

  “She didn’t say.” Mom shook her head and reached for me again. “She said that they had to search for the perfect people to care for their child ... that someday you might get to an age where you might feel off balance since they weren’t here to raise you.”

  “What did they mean by off-balance?” That did explain how I was feeling now that she said the words. Something inside me was trying to take over. They couldn’t know that would happen … could they?

  Mom chuckled, but it was humorless. “Honestly, I thought at first they were insulting us as parents. As though, since you were theirs, we couldn’t measure up to them, but after today …”

  “Do you still have their number?” Maybe I could call them and get some real answers. Maybe they knew why I never fit in and felt weird in my own skin.

  “No, we don’t.” Dad frowned.

  “Yes, we do.” Mom countered and glanced at me.

  “You were supposed to throw it away that night.” Dad startled and leaned over the table. “You told me …

  “I know what I told you, but there was something in her words that haunted me.” Mom lifted her chin in defiance. “I couldn’t be that selfish, especially if we could possibly need their help in the future.”

  “So they drop me off, adoption papers complete, and leave a phone number?” At least they seemed to kind of care and didn’t abandon me in a home.

  “They also send us money every month.” Mom stared at the table and sighed. “Each year, they send more than the last.”

  “Did you need to tell her that?” Dad slammed his hand on the table.

  “Of course, I did.” Mom scowled at him. “She needs to know they loved her because they’ve helped us in every way possible since she was left on our doorstep.”

  “Have you talked to them since then?” At least they didn’t sound horrible. They cared enough to find me a good home, a good family, and help support me through the years.

  “No, she said it was too dangerous.” Mom wiped a few tears off her cheeks. “She said to call if you start having problems. To let you know that both her and your father love you more than you’d ever know.”

  Those words settled over me and tugged at something deep within.

  “We should’ve told you sooner, but we were scared,” Mom admitted as she took a deep breath, “We didn’t want to risk losing you. I’m sorry, we were being selfish.”

  “So you think that’s what I’m going through?” Obviously, Mom did, but what about Dad. I gazed right at him.

  “To be honest, I’m not sure.” Dad stood and stepped behind the chair. “Just know that you are my daughter, and nothing is ever going to change that.”

  The right thing to do would have been to comfort them, but at the moment, I didn’t have it in me. “I’m sorry. But I need to think.” I needed to get out and get some distance from them.

  Mom stood and crossed over to a drawer on the other side of the kitchen. “I understand, and here. I want to give this to you.” She pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to me. “That’s her number.”

  “It could have changed by now.” I didn’t want to get my hopes up if nothing came from it.

  “No, she told me that night that they would keep the line indefinitely.” Mom licked her lips, and a tear trailed down her cheek. “She hoped you would call her one day.”

  Wow, that was a lot to process. “Okay.” I took the piece of paper, and it felt like a brick in my hand. “I’m going to head upstairs for a little while.”

  I climbed the stairs to my room and didn’t bother turning the lights on. I could see perfectly in the dark anyway. Another thing that made me different from everyone else.

  As I caressed the paper, I let my mind run rampant at what I’d learned. I wasn’t sure what to do though. I stepped to my window and glanced at the road. The two guys from earlier were standing outside, watching my house.

  They had tried talking to me earlier and were now hiding outside in the woods. What could possibly be going on, and would my birth mother know the answer?

  Chapter Two

  I tried going to sleep, but I kept tossing and turning. I wanted to get up and look out the window again. Each time, those same two men were still there. Maybe they were homeless and needed a place to sleep. I tried coming up with any reasonable explanation, but there weren’t any when I thought about
it too hard.

  My skin crawled. They were stalking me, and I was their prey. It was an odd feeling since I had always felt like a predator in my own pale skin.

  The sheet of paper with the faded numbers was clutched in my hands. Each time I talked myself into calling her, I’d pick up my phone and lose my nerve. So many questions ran through my mind: Did they want to hear from me? Do they regret giving me up? Why was I so different? Who knew? Maybe that’s why they gave me up. They determined I was too different and didn’t want to be burdened with that. Maybe they sent money each month, not to support me but to ease their conscience. There were so many questions, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to hear the answers.

  Not able to stop myself, I crawled out of my bed and stayed low to the ground as I reached my bedroom window. There was a desk right in front of it, so I had to be careful not to make a sound.

  Moreover, that’s what was so crazy about the whole thing… I knew they could hear me if I wasn’t careful. In all truthfulness, if they weren’t staking out my house, I probably would’ve gone out there and talked to them. They pulled at the inner beast inside me. It seemed as if the darkness inside me recognized them as one of its own.

  That was ridiculous. I needed to call the number, and if they didn’t pick up, oh well. If they knew why these weirdos were outside my house, at least I might get one piece of the puzzle.

  I made my way to the back of my bedroom and squatted in the corner behind my end table. My skin prickled with unease.

  Straightening the wrinkled paper, I glanced at the numbers again. I took a deep breath, knowing there was no going back. I just had to dial it. I pulled the phone from my pocket and pressed each number firmly. With each number, my heart increased in speed. When I finally read all of the numbers on my phone, I pressed the send button before I could rethink it.

 
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