A Brutal Betrayal

By: D.C. Renee


All that I do is dedicated to you, Babulya, including this book. However, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’d rather not need to dedicate this to you. I wish you were still here. I love you and miss you every day.

Deda, we love you and miss you too.


My most important thank you is to my husband. He believes in me always and is there for me when I need him the most. I wouldn’t be where I am without his unconditional love and unwavering support.

A huge thanks to my sister. Her name should be on the cover alongside mine. She’s my biggest fan and worst critic, my conspirator and co-writer, and my best friend. And to my niece, who always keeps me on my toes.

A big thank you to my parents, who support me in everything I do and even cried when my first book was released. Thanks to my in-laws (ema, aba, bros and sis) for their encouragement and love.

There are quite a few people that I’ve met along the way who have not only helped me get myself out there, but have become friends and allies. They all deserve an acknowledgement and I can’t thank them enough for all their help: Jenny Sims (best editor ever! Editing4Indies); Rachael Orman (couldn’t promote myself without her help! Dreams Come True Promotions); Marina Yermolenko (my most critical beta reader, but I appreciate ALL her suggestions!); Catherine Grey & Sheri Hursh (my amazing beta readers and confidence boosters [side effect]); Jettie Woodruff (wouldn’t even know how to publish without her!); Rebecca Marie (amazing graphics! my cover is proof); Carrie Sutton (I don’t know how I’d come up with teasers without her! Graphics by Carrie).

There have been some amazing ladies (in addition to the above) that have pimped me out just because they are awesome and I need to thank them: Suleika Santana, my friends at On The Same Page (Tunee, Julia, Maya, Inessa, Margarita), Kasey Craig, Lauren Duncan, Glorya Hidalgo, Janet Gomez, Rebecca Bennett.

Lastly, authors wouldn’t be where they are without the fantastic blogs that help spread the word and the people behind them. There are a ton I’m sure I’m going to miss and I’m extremely sorry for that. But, here are some that need special acknowledgment: A Literary Perusal, All About Books, Two Ordinary Girls and Their Books, The Pleasure of Reading Today, Author Groupies, A Pair of Okies, Three Chicks and their Books, Just One More Page.


“No, God, please. No!” she screamed, her voice hoarse from the screaming and begging, her face tear stained and bruised. No one could hear her in the dark alley, no one cared. Her pleas were drowned out by the sounds of the traffic nearby and the music vibrating through the many clubs in the area.

She felt like she had been crying out for hours, but it had probably been no more than a few minutes. Her assailant had her hair in a tight grip, the roots on the verge of being torn out. The rough surface of the wall cut into her cheek as she was pressed against it. The biting pain was nothing compared to the terrifying violation being forced upon her.

With his face buried in her neck, she could feel his hot breath coming out in small puffs with each thrust. He was mumbling, but she couldn’t hear his words over the thunderous roar of blood in her head or the sound of skin slapping on skin.

“Please, stop, please,” she whimpered, her voice almost gone at this point. She closed her eyes, willing the pain to stop, willing the violation to end, willing her mind to leave her body behind.

Three hours ago, she had told her parents she was spending the night with a friend, which wasn’t a total lie. She just hadn’t told them that she and her friend would be utilizing their new fake IDs to go to some clubs first. Her friend’s parents were out of town, so no one would notice or disturb them. They took advantage and drank at the house first before taking a cab to the main street where all the bars and clubs were located. Making their way through three clubs quickly, they picked up free drinks from men who assumed they were much older than they were. Twenty minutes before, things changed when she lost her friend in the crowd. The booming music and the throngs of people, bodies pressed against each other, writhing to the notes coming from the loud speakers, immersing themselves in the beauty of letting go. With the added relaxation from the drinks she’d had, she let go, maybe too much, only to realize that she was without her friend, groping and being groped without the safety of someone she knew. She needed air. Just a little, she told herself. She would step out for just a moment, maybe text or call her friend. Worst case, she could always grab a cab back to her friend’s place and wait it out.