Savage Cinderella by PJ Sharon

Author:PJ Sharon
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: romance, nature, suspense, young adult, abuse, photography, survival, georgia, kidnapped

Chapter 18

Back in the Arms of Love

Between Justin and Mr. Hathaway, and with the help of the police who had just arrived, Brinn was ushered past the paparazzi and through the front doors of the spacious European Ranch style house. John Hathaway had called the police when the reporters and news trucks had appeared.

Brinn’s intense agitation in response to the police presence had shocked her parents and her father had insisted they wait outside. Now she stood opposite her parents in the large foyer surrounded by silence.

Brinn stared numbly at her feet, trembling and drying her face with her hands. Finally, she looked squarely at the man and woman before her. Her father and mother looked at her with such expressions of expectation and joy that she couldn’t stop the stream of tears that fell from her eyes. She vibrated with tension in Justin's arms, her hands wrapped tight around her middle. Words failed her.

"My angel, is that really you?" her mother asked, her hands clutched over her mouth as if holding back a flood of words and emotion she could no longer contain.

"Yes, Mama, it’s me." Brinn's voice shook as she looked back and forth between her parents’ worried expressions. They looked so familiar, but so foreign at the same time. She had tried through the years to remember what they looked like, but the images had faded and the people who stood before her were strangers.

"Come in and sit down, please. Can I get you anything?" Her father glanced from her to Justin. He wore a wary expression as she clutched Justin’s arm with both hands, her knuckles white.

Then her mother let loose. Her arms extended and tears streamed as she reached for Brinn. With only a moment's hesitation, Brinn let go of Justin and fell into her mother's arms. They both wept uncontrollably. Brinn's father wrapped them in a firm embrace and they all stood huddled together in the front hall, crying through a long moment of shared happiness, relief, and grief.

When the tears subsided to a slow trickle of sobs and hiccups, the group settled into the cozy, welcoming living room. Justin sat next to Brinn on the sofa and her parents each sat on the edge of wing backed chairs across an elegant glass coffee table, medical journals and magazines stacked on one end, a large, decorative candle in the center.

Brinn studied her surroundings and then stared at her mother. Her skin looked flawless. She had shiny black hair like Brinn’s, but it was cut short and curled just below her ears. Her slanted blue eyes were a near perfect match to the color of her own. The woman was tiny, barely reaching Brinn’s nose, yet she held herself with such profound dignity that she commanded instant respect.

Her father was tall, lean, and muscular with broad shoulders. He had a kind smile and neat, dark brown hair, graying at his temples—a color that matched his eyes. As he studied her, they shadowed to a deep blue gray that reminded her of storm clouds over the mountains.

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