To Come First
Page 1
Contents
Blurb
Title Page
Copyright
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
Dear Reader
Blurb
Five years Ash has suffered at the hands of her foster parents. Cruelty is all she’s known until one day Matt shows up. He’s lost and alone, his parents death still fresh in his head. Their bond is almost immediate and now she knows what it’s like to have a brother.
After a near death experience, where they both expose secrets about themselves that no one else knows, they decide they are going to stick together. Ash has never had a family and it’s something she’s always wanted. She will have to learn to love and trust, which is not as easy as it sounds.
Matt brings her into his world and it’s like nothing she’s ever known! Fighting for dominance is the normal way but she’s so tired of it.
All she wants is someone to care about her. To put her first. Will she find that here or will this new world tear them all apart? With the help of a handful of Beta’s, will she be able to learn enough to trust and accept love?
**18+ Slow Burn YA Reverse Harem Shifter Romance. Warning: this book contains some scenes and references of abuse and foul language that some readers may find triggering**
To Come First
By: JC Rae
To Come First is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, etc, are a product of the authors imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 by JC Rae
All Rights Reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher and the copyright owner constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author's intellectual property. Thank you for your support of the author's rights.
Cover Art by Eve's Garden of Eden, Victoria Schaefer
DEDICATION
This book began as a dream and took shape as a dare. Never did I ever believe that I would write a book, let alone publish it! Thank you to everyone that helped push me to finish--I couldn't have done it without you. Also, thank you to my wonderful daughters, who provide inspiration to me daily to keep pushing forward. I wouldn't be the person that I am today without my girls!
"A dream doesn't become reality through magic; it takes sweat, determination and hard work.".....Colin Powell
Chapter 1
I sit here staring at the door and hoping that it continues to hold. On the other side, my foster father continues pounding and trying to get in. He’s been drinking again. I should be used to this but I keep hoping that things will change. Maybe he will forget that he doesn’t like me. Maybe my foster mom will call the cops and stop the abuse to both of us. Maybe someone will come to my rescue. I know that none of those things will likely happen but that’s all that my 17 year old brain can come up with right now.
I have rearranged my bedroom so that I can use my dresser and bed to barricade the door each night. It’s not much but I work with what I have available. This security, mixed with my own personal shield, make me feel somewhat safe. I know that complete safety won't happen until I can get out of this hell. Why do I have to continue living like this? Why does each foster home seem to get worse and worse? I have been here for over 4 years but I learned within a couple months to keep my guard up. I’ve got the scars to show how bad it can be if I don’t.
I try to hum some song that I heard to drown out the noise but it’s not working. Glen, my foster father, continues yelling on the other side of the door for me to let him in. At least he quit beating on it. I hate this feeling. I wish I could fight back but that’s what got me kicked out of my last house. I will not let someone touch me without my permission. Never again!
Eventually, the noises stop and I can only assume that he is ready to pass out. I have made it thru one more night. I don’t like to look ahead to the future but it’s mainly because I don’t know if I will have one. I have long since forgotten how to cry. That show of weakness was beaten out of me long ago. Now I feel emotionless most of the time. It’s like I am just drifting along with no destination. I wish with all my might that things will change as I slowly drift off to sleep. I hope the dreams stay away tonight.
◆◆◆
My dreams were always of the past. I learned a long time ago that I am not like other kids. At first, I thought that something was seriously wrong with me. I have been told for most of my life that I’m a demon and that’s why no one else wanted me. I don’t want to believe that but I’m not sure why I can do what I can.
I can tell that this is just a dream but I can never stop it. I’m lying in my bed, almost completely asleep, when I hear the telltale creak of the door opening. At first, I don’t think much about it because I think someone is just checking on me. I’ve only been living here for a couple months and it’s not been pleasant but no one has hurt me. Yet. I should’ve known it was coming. I should’ve been more aware but I wasn’t. Before I knew what was happening, there was someone holding me down with their hand over my mouth. I started to panic because I thought someone had broken in. Where were my foster parents?
But then I opened my eyes and couldn’t contain the gasp that slipped out behind the hand over my mouth. My foster father was leaning over me with the scariest leer on his face that I had ever seen. His other hand had gathered up both of my wrists. I try not to panic but it’s not working. Tears are streaming out of my eyes and I can’t seem to catch my breath. I can smell alcohol and something else that I cannot seem to place.
He slowly moves his face down so that he’s eye to eye with me and says in the scariest voice I have ever heard, “Don’t scream or you will regret it!” With that, he removes his hand from my mouth but doesn’t let go of my hands. I ask him what is going on but it’s like he can’t, or won’t, answer me. It’s at that moment that I start to understand what he wants from me as his hand starts rubbing down my body. I am shivering in disgust now and I try to wiggle out of his hold so that I can get away from him. But he’s not letting me go. If anything, this seems to excite him more.
His hand goes under my nightgown and slowly starts lifting it up. Even my 12 year old brain knows that this is wrong! I frantically try to pull away from him and scream with all my might. Maybe my foster mom will hear me and be able to stop him. I’m slowly losing my ability to think straight. This is wrong! Why is he doing this?
My scream seems to break him out of his thoughts and before I know what is happening, his hand shoots across my face so hard that I’m worried he has knocked out some teeth. He snarls as he leans back down to my face and says, “I told you to be quiet. Now shut up or you will pay! No one is going to come to help you and you better get used to it.”
My mind is scrambling to make sense of things. I don’t understand what is happening and my head is rattled from where he hit me. But I do know that I need to get away before something really bad happens. I suddenly realize that he’s pulling my nightgown back up and I cannot move to stop him. I’m trembling so hard that my teeth chatter and it hurts my head. But he doesn’t stop until I’m wearing nothing but my panties.
Then he just sits there and looks at me. I’m afraid of what he is going
to do. I don’t really know much but I had heard about sex at my last foster house. It doesn’t sound like something I want to happen, especially not with him! His creepy smile turns into a malicious leer and he once again strikes out before I even know what he’s doing. His hand strikes across the other side of my face but he doesn’t stop there. One hand grips my throat and squeezes while his other pulls a knife out of his pocket.
I try to scream but I can’t. I can barely breathe as he squeezes my throat. The only thing I can think is that he is going to kill me and maybe I will be better off. No more moving around every couple years and no more getting hurt by people that are supposed to take care of me. I’m a fighter and I’m not going to go out without getting at least one hit in. With that last thought, I bring my leg up and kick towards him. I’d always heard that men were sensitive between their legs so that’s where I aimed my attack. It wasn’t a very good kick but it was enough to make him let go of my throat. Once I was loose, I screamed again and again until I was tackled back to the bed.
Somehow, between my screams and sobs and his rough breaths, I hear the door squeak open again. Finally, someone was going to come to my rescue! Someone was going to save me. The next words just about broke me. “Shut that girl up right now! I won’t have the neighbors calling the cops.” my foster mother whisper-screamed. The look on her face gave me chills again and I knew that she was not my savior but another tormentor.
I closed my eyes and went to scream again just as hands wrapped around my throat again. I was only able to get a short croak out before I felt a burning pain on my stomach followed by a slicing sensation. I looked down with wide eyes to see my foster mother pressing her cigarette to my stomach as my foster father used his knife to cut and carve into my skin. The looks in both of their eyes was pure glee and I realized that I was going to die tonight.
As I lay there unmoving due to the pain in my stomach, I felt a weird tingling sensation beginning in my chest. All I could think was that my heart was going to stop or something but that’s not what happened. One minute the tingling was only in my chest but then it slowly spread up towards my head and down to my feet. Inch by inch, the tingling went and when it reached the spot that my foster parents were slicing into, it seemed to jolt out of me as they jumped away screaming. I couldn’t seem to feel anything but numbness as black edged in around my eyes. The last thing I heard was my foster father yelling because he couldn’t touch me. He kept saying something was blocking him and shocking him each time he tried to grab me. With that in my head, I slowly shut my eyes and hoped for the end to come quickly.
◆◆◆
I wake up with a start to hear quiet whispering. It was only a dream. I’m safe. My protective shield is still in place and all my precautions have not been disturbed. It’s always the same dream of what happened when I moved in here and I can’t seem to shake it.
After that night, I had woken up and spent many months trying to figure out what had happened and how to control it. The shield only seemed to come to my rescue whenever I was scared out of my mind. After many months of it working only when it was life or death, I finally figured out how to control it to protect me on command. It felt like a protective field would wrap around me and no one could touch me unless I allowed it.
I have spent the last couple years honing my skills to the point that I can now keep it wrapped around me while I’m sleeping or even wrap it around someone or something else.
I have more scars that were given to me by my foster parents during the time I was trying to learn to control it but now they pretty much leave me alone. They know that I can hurt them if they try to touch me and that has made them back off. Sometimes they will still try to surprise attack me but that has pretty much stopped too since I keep my shield up most of the time. I still get yelled at all the time and I spend most of my days and nights in my room when I’m home. I had tried to tell child services what was going on but they didn’t believe me. I had always been labeled as the “bad kid” so when they were told I had started a fight and that’s what had happened to my stomach, they let it go as my fault.
I can still hear the whispering but I’m not sure where it’s coming from so I slowly raise my head and look around. I don’t see anyone inside my tiny room. Everything is still in the same place as it was when I fell asleep—pressed up against the door. If I could, I would laugh at how this looks. Maybe to someone that didn’t have to live like this, it would seem funny. A large 6 drawer dresser is pushed as tightly against the door as it can go. Right up against that is my small single bed, which is about a foot from touching the wall on the other side of the room. Yes, that is all the bigger my room is. It’s not much, but it’s mine, for the moment.
The whispering has stopped while I’m looking around my room. I still don’t see anyone but I can see that the sun is coming up thru my window. I’d like to feel joy that I will live to see another sunrise. Unfortunately, all I feel is tired and alone. I wish there was someone out there who understood what I am going thru. I want someone that I can talk to and who won’t try to hurt me. What I most want is someone that will put me first and protect me and love me. As I lay there, watching the sky get brighter and brighter, I wish with all my might that there is someone out there that I can lean on and trust. We can protect each other from harm and look out for one another. I want a brother.
I start to get up and get ready for the day. Thru the door, I can hear someone moving around so I assume Jane, my foster mother, has decided to make breakfast. That’s a rare treat and I hope that I will get some of it. I really need to shower but I’m going to have to get my room put back first. Slowly, so I don’t make a huge racket, I slide the bed over to the wall. Then, on the opposite side, goes the dresser.
I’m just pulling out clothes for the day when there’s a knock on the door. Jane peeks her head around the door and says, “Ash, you need to hurry up and get ready so we can eat breakfast. We have guests coming over in an hour and I don’t want you to embarrass us.”
As confused as I am, I still manage to agree and I rush out to the shower. Quickly, especially since the hot water never seems to last more than a couple minutes, I wash my hair and body. Once I have rinsed, I shut off the water and dry myself. With company coming over, I decide to dress in one of the nicer sets of clothes that I have, which is still only a pair of cut off jean shorts and a blue shirt. Hey, at least there are no stains on them. Once that’s done, I rush back to my room, grab my sandals, and hustle down the stairs to the kitchen. My stomach is growling because I wasn’t allowed to eat dinner last night.
Chapter 2
The kitchen is a dreary yellow color and it always makes me think that a sunflower threw up in here. Actually, this whole house makes me nauseous but it’s what I have to work with unless they decide to send me back into the system. The kitchen table is old and large with 6 seats that go around it. I’m not sure if Glen and Jane have older kids of their own. I’ve never heard them speak about any other kids and there are no pictures on the walls. They both look to be in their mid to late 40s but I’m not sure exactly. I really hope that no other child has had to grow up the way that I have these last couple years.
Quietly I go over and take my seat at the table. Jane is busy finishing breakfast but I don’t see Glen. Just as I think this, a booming voice makes me jump, “Get your ass over there and help your mother! Make yourself useful.”
“Glen,” Jane starts, “don’t forget that we have guests coming soon and I don’t want you to ruin this.”
Her smile is evil looking and not for the first time I wonder why no one else can seem to see this, other than me. Then she turns that smile on me and says, “Ash, you just stay where you’re at. I’ll finish with breakfast and then, after we eat, our company should be here. Don’t forget, children should be seen and not heard so I expect you to sit there quietly and smile. You will only speak when spoken to directly. Do you understand?”
I sit there numbly staring at her. Does sh
e actually think I’m going to have anything to say to her “guests”? Slowly, I nod my head and then look down at my lap. I’m not sure if I should even eat this breakfast she has made. Maybe it’s poisoned. She sets the plates of food down on the table as they dish themselves up a plateful. They dig in so I decide it can’t be poisoned if they’re eating and I make myself a plate.
We all sit at the table in uncomfortable silence. I am just about finished when there’s a knock at the front door. “Oh, they’re here! Glen, get the door and take them to the living room. We will clean this up real quickly and then meet you in there.”
Slowly, I gather up what’s sitting on the table and take it to the kitchen. I’m definitely not in a hurry to meet Jane’s guests. I’ve never seen her this excited about anything and I’m starting to get worried. I’ve never seen her smile unless she’s inflicting pain. Her face has that evil look again, just like when they caught me unaware in the shower last week. Before I even knew what was happening, she had come into the bathroom with a baseball bat and swung towards my head. Thank god she missed but she still clipped my shoulder, which threw me into the wall. I was so rattled I barely felt them kicking me until I was able to blink the confusion from my eyes and get my shield up. When they realized that they couldn’t hurt me anymore, they left me sitting on the floor bleeding and told me to clean up the mess.
It took me awhile to finally stand up and look at the damage that day. I ended up with a cut across the side of my face, from what I really don’t know. My entire shoulder was bruised and so sore that I couldn’t lift my arm very much. I knew better than to let my guard down but I had thought they already left for work. Boy did I feel like a fool.