Durability (The LockDown Series Book 3) Read online

  DURABILITY

  Copyright© 2016 Shannon Dobson

  Published by Shannon Dobson

  All Rights reserved. Author holds all rights to this work. Any copying, selling or sharing of the work without consent is illegal, legal action will be taken if these conditions are broken.

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  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

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  About the Author

  Excerpt from Baby Mine

  This is always a difficult part for me, there are so many people to thank for my experiences so far.

  Firstly, all of the blogs that have supported me with reviews, takeover spots and just someone to lean on, but in particular; Two ordinary girls and their books and Love between the sheets have been exceptional. They are continuously letting me steal their blogs to promote myself and always advertise and pimp my work. You guys make what I do, worth every minute of the hard and stressful times.

  Secondly, my friends and family, all of you have been there for me since the first second I decided I would write a book. And here I am, four books later and still loving every moment of my work. To me, this is it, this is what I want to do for the rest of my life, and to know how proud I make you makes me push myself harder and further than I ever have. I love you all so much.

  My editor, Nicola Rhead, you are an absolute star. Hours upon hours you have spent, editing and proofreading my books. You make them what they are, you make sure the worlds and fantasies I create become a reality. Thank you so much for being you, you are a gem and I wouldn’t be who I am without you.

  And lastly, my boyfriend. James Smith, you are my one and only, you are my forever happily after, you are my very own Leighton Lock. My world is clearer with you in it, happier when I see your face and complete with you by my side. I cherish everything you are and I wouldn’t be the girl I am without your continuous support, encouragement and love. I love you with everything I am.

  Xxx

  This is a hard one to do this time, not because I couldn’t think of someone who deserved it, but because the person who I dedicate this book to, has sadly passed away.

  I dedicated Total LockDown to the strength and heroism Reece provided this world, his battle with cancer was long, hard and painful. He was a warrior until his final hours and to everyone who knows him, he still is.

  Reece was an inspiration to everyone, he made people believe in a future, believe they could do anything they wanted to. He wasn’t just a hero to himself, but a hero to everyone he met.

  Final LockDown is now dedicated to Reece’s memory, to the beautiful person he was and the courageous Angel he now is.

  May he light the skies with his endless smile.

  R.I.P

  To a hero of this world, a warrior and a fighter. May your spirit live on and guide the world, may your memory serve as a reminder of the good and honesty Earth houses and may your smile be forever our guiding light in the darkness that may overcome us.

  In the beginning of September I organised a fund raising author event in aid of raising money for Reece’s much needed treatment. One of the prizes that wasn’t put up was this poem, written by friend of mine.

  Do you remember being twenty?

  Did you fear what lay ahead?

  The things that you were promised,

  and all the things they said?

  Now imagine being twenty

  and learning it was lies

  with the tumour in your head,

  a pressure behind your eyes.

  Cancer biting hard,

  treatment is denied,

  hope in the hands of strangers

  who learnt of you and cried.

  No age to be in pain,

  trying hard to cope.

  The NHS betray you,

  Friends become your hope.

  And hope is the power

  that lifts you every day,

  facing to the future

  surviving come what may.

  -CJ Heath

  IN LOVING MEMORY

  R.I.P REECE ‘TUMOURNATER’ HAWLEY

  “In order to succeed,

  Your desire for success

  Should be greater than your fear of failure.”

  -Bill Cosby

  Leighton

  Today has been one of the most incredible days I have ever experienced, alongside the birth of my children. There has never been a greater gift on this earth, than to be able to take the hand of the woman who owns my entire soul and place a ring over her finger; uniting us forever.

  Just two years ago, there was nothing for me in this crazy world. I had lost my son, from my own stupid obsessiveness and was mourning the loss of my only love in this world, replacing her memory with the adrenaline my work gave me. I was obsessed with what I did, unable to contain my hunger and thirst for it.

  I’m now the luckiest man there could ever possibly be. Today sealed the deal for me, adding to the long list of reasons why I love her. She is now my wife, my beautiful, amazing, selfless wife. I can look at her in amazement, today has been pure and utter perfection. It is crazy to say, because just two years ago there wasn’t any hope for me to be the person I am now, but I am married. I am a married man, and I now possess the most prized jewel there is to have and to hold. There is only one more thing I would do anything to have, and that is, her complete and utter surrender, to have a beautiful strip of leather clasped around her elegant throat, telling every fucker in this world, not only is the most stunning, perfect angel in this world my wife and my soul mate, but also my submissive.

  She has become very good at being one, that is for sure. After the relentless months of training split between Ant and myself, I am proud to have her as mine.

  I have just said my goodbyes and goodnights to our wedding guests, mainly only our family are left, so I can go and spend my wedding night the way everybody should. I’ll give it five minutes, from now, until my cock is buried deep inside her tight pussy, squeezing me in that death grip I have learned to crave and need like the air that surrounds me.

  Home! That’s the feeling I always feel whenever I have my family around me, my wife, my daughter and my son. I am a lucky fucker to possess such a rare thing. Complete and utter fulfilment in life, a whole, complete, beating heart that provides my entire being with the oxygen and blood it needs to survive. Not that my heart needs the blood, Abigail is more than enough for me, she runs every system my body relies on and then still keeps my dick aching for days.

  I sigh out my happiness as I approach the top of the huge staircase. I usually lov
e the thing, all the gold and ornate decor, but right now, it is a mission away from my beautiful wife, who I know has the most stunning dress waiting for me to peel off of her.

  Leighton Lock, control you’re fucking dick now, I scold myself as I feel it already beginning to stir in my tux trousers. I think I am the only man known to god that after consuming the volume of alcohol I have, can still get as hard as concrete and fuck the entirety of the night away. Or maybe that is what having Abbi does to me.

  Damn I am a lucky fucker.

  I walk my hallway, to our bedroom, the one that I will make love to my wife in, as others call it. To the two of us, it is raw, fucking sex, passionate, wild, kinky and damn good. I push the door open, expecting to see her there, hopefully ready the way she has been taught, but there is no sign of her. But my heart swells inside my chest, my ribs squeezing the organs tightly, reminding me why I love her as much as I do.

  Around the room lay candles, the expanse of the area glowing with a beautiful aura that not only makes the path to our bed clear, but the path for my entire life, each candle another symbol as to why I have pushed through my own demons, and fought Abbi’s with her. We are destined for one another, born and created from our parents, so that one day we could cross paths and form a love so powerful and potent it possesses every breath we take, every beat our heart thumps, every step we take to live and every surge of pleasure that our bodies create.

  She is mine, and I am hers. Entirely and wholly, till death do us part?

  I smile and manage, somehow, to stop the tears that well in my eyes, from falling. Yes, I am not too manly to admit she makes me cry on a weekly, sometimes daily basis, from the love she exhumes, but I don’t want our wedding night to be one full of tears, happy or not. I want our bodies connecting, our spirits colliding and our souls fusing as one angelic perfect specimen.

  “Angel.” I call softly into the room. I love how she plays, and teases me. It reminds me of how Josie used to be, always tormenting me and running away. My mind is conjuring up hundreds of scenarios where she appears from nowhere, surprising me and capturing me.

  “Baby girl.” I call again, walking into the room further. I tap on the en-suite door, pushing the wood open as I do. It is empty, the candles from around the bath edge now missing and in our bedroom.

  The place smells beautiful. Abbi’s sweet, flowery perfume and body wash is fumigating the air. “God, I love that.” I say aloud, as I breathe in deeply, inhaling her. Her feminine scent always floods my every sense, penetrating me to the very core.

  “Come on Ab, out you come,” I say playfully, pulling open cupboards and closets to try and find her hidden body. The little mare has really hidden well this time.

  “Okay, you don’t want me, I’ll go see our Melissa; she will always love and want me,” I say stupidly, giggling to myself. I know she is somewhere around, but it is just a matter of waiting for her stubborn arse to come out.

  I shake my head, still smiling wide. I can’t stop it from infecting my face today; my life has just turned from perfect to everlasting.

  I place my hand to the glistening knob of my daughter’s room.

  “Hey man, where am I sleeping tonight?” I hear Scott ask me from the stairs at the end of the landing.

  “Hey man, you feeling okay?” I ask him, his face is still so sad, sorrow apparent on every crease.

  “I’m fine, Leigh. It’s life, I’ll deal with it,” he tells me bluntly and my heart breaks a little, to see one of my family hurting so hard. Don’t get me wrong, the guy can be an arsehole, a real fucking dickhead, but I never wish this level of unhappiness on anybody I love.

  “Scott, talk to me man,” I command him. I know from experience, the worst thing anybody can do, is hold in their self-hatred and hurt.

  “Leigh, seriously, if I need you I’ll holler, but until then, leave me be ‘kay?” he asks me, that sad smile still on his face.

  “Sure thing bro. You’re in your usual room knobhead,” I tell him, patting his shoulder.

  “Okay, I’ll see you in the morning,” he says turning around fast. “Hey Leigh, what the hell is that smell?”

  What the fuck is he on about? “What smell?” I ask, inhaling heavily to try and detect what he is on about.

  “Smells like copper mate,” he says, a worried look marring his face. He shoots past me, sniffing around like a bloodhound.

  He opens and closes every room door along the way, peering his head in and nosing around before closing the door again.

  “What are you doing Scott?” I ask him, laughing at his bizarre behaviour. It is official, the guy is bonkers. All that cocaine he insists on taking every day, is clearly catching up with his mental stability.

  He reaches my daughter's room and I follow him, needing to say goodnight to her anyway. As he opens the door, the pungent smell he has been referring to, shoots through the hallway like a laser pointer, now heading straight for my fucking heart.

  “NO!” I say loudly, my heartbeat accelerating fast enough to pound out of my chest. “Please god no,” I beg again, as I shoot through the remainder of the corridor.

  “FUCK!” I hear Scott say as I push past him, knocking his drunken body into the door frame.

  “FUCK!” I scream loudly, I am sure everybody will bloody hear it.

  I look to the floor as my heart splits through my ribcage, tearing the skin apart and falling to the floor in a lifeless heap beside my wife.

  I fall to my knees, the caps on them smashing harshly into the floor. “Baby no.” I cry as I lift her bleeding, lifeless body into my arms.

  I turn my head and expel my stomach contents.

  “NO!” I shout again as I hear a strangled breath escape Abigail’s chest, blood gurgling up through her throat and trickling down the sides of her mouth.

  Tears stream down my face and my body ceases to exist, as I watch my beautiful angel’s eyes flitter, her breathing slowing as she begins to sleep.

  Abigail

  I am dead, in heaven once again. It is becoming a common occurrence lately, but this time I fear my existence has completely halted altogether. This time I am alone, there is no Leighton or Thomas with me, keeping me company as I surf amongst the fluffy white clouds. This is more like hell to me. It is cold, hard and horrible. I have already been in heaven, my living life pure and utter bliss. This is god's payback for all the good luck I have been given.

  I have prayed one too many times, rubbed the genie's lamp too rough, too often, that I am now in hell as my punishment for my greediness. I had thought I deserved a good life, after everything I have been through. I had thought it was my time to shine and live, but no, here I am, freezing cold, as the fiery inferno around me spits and incinerates the entire perimeter of my rusty cage.

  I miss them, every one of them. My husband, my friends, my family and then there is my baby girl, whose life is now in jeopardy, my deranged and sickening father now holding her in his vile grasp. I need to escape, I need to break free of this god forsaken blazing pit and fight my way back through the whole that has swallowed me.

  Think Abbi, think. How can I defeat Lucifer himself? Surely there is a deal I can make. He, of all people, knows what it is like to love somebody so much you will kill for them. If people understand the stories of why the devil, as he is known, was sent and banished to the darkest, loneliest corners of this world, they wouldn’t think him so bad.

  There has always been many speculations as to why Lucifer ruled the cold corners I now lived. As I have been told, he was an angel, in heaven. His love for the Lord manifested beyond control, he wanted to be everything god was, to be loved as intensely and passionately as god was. To me this is no crime; it isn’t a crime to feel the way I do about Leighton, to want to live and breathe everything he is. Maybe that’s why I have been exiled here, with those who love too much. Maybe my father was right, maybe I don’t deserve to live; maybe I deserve to be in the deepest, darkest pits as my punishment. Af
ter all, it is my fault; if I hadn’t been born, my mother would be alive, my father would be the happy person the photos in our home had depicted, my baby girl wouldn’t be in his clutches right now, Leighton wouldn’t be heartbroken, like I know he will be this very minute, having seen my lifeless and bleeding corpse.

  I sigh heavily, looking above my metal cage, the miniscule exit overhead like the peak of a volcano. I squint my eyes to try and focus, as the steam and smoke of the cascading fires around me, fog my vision. Surely there is a way out of here; there is always an escape somewhere. I had once thought my father the devil, a monster in the shadows there to hurt me, but as I learnt more about the ‘devil’ I disregarded people’s opinions of him, because he is just a simple angel, in love with his leader.

  I tap my chin repeatedly, like it will bring some semblance of control and thought. I can feel a slight throb in my shoulder, a reminder of my non-existence in the above world. It seems like a lifetime away, I wish I were an angel right now, with large feathery wings that would allow me to swoop down on earth from the cotton candy heavens and bring me back to my mourning family.

  Jesus Abbi, get your head together, you have to get out of here. I am going crazy, a little devil and angel sitting upon my aching shoulders, probing and intimidating me to sway their way. The beautiful, white dressed angel, similar to how I had looked before the bullet had robbed me of breath, blood and life, telling me to fight, to force wings to pop from my spine and fly me away to my family. Then there is that naughty devil, his fork tail spearing my bullet hole, sending searing pain throughout my body, incapacitating me completely, screaming in a horrible high pitched tone to sit my fucking arse down and suffer the consequences of my actions.

  I look to that stupid devil, seriously wondering what I have done in my short lifetime to deserve this horrid end. Surely I should at least be in purgatory, able to fight my case to the jury and have my sentence fought for, not just chucked into this hellhole and made to deal with it.

  “Fuck!” I shout, pushing myself forward. I shake my shoulder, trying to fling the irritating prick from its perch. I only have room for one conscience today, and that is the positive, encouraging one, that is fighting for me to get to my family.