The Brody Bunch Collection: Bad Boy Romance

by Sienna Valentine

  “Who made me like this?” I whispered, tossing my heels away from me with a shake of my head. Fuck. What a question. And the answer was one he wasn’t going to like. I turned my face away from him, steeling myself, summoning whatever courage I had to tell Ash the truth. To finally say, out loud, for the first time in two years, why I’d run away from home one night and never come back.

  “My father. It was my father.”

  I closed my eyes as I felt the weight of those words settle over us. I heard the pause in Ash’s breath, deafening in the silence; the fleshy clench of his hands as he made them into fists. Without any further explanation, I knew he knew where this was going. What other place could it go, really, except the darkest, most depraved reaches of the human psyche?

  “He… he hurt you?” Ash said after a time—a stupid question he already knew the answer to. I nodded, but kept my gaze focused out the window, assuming that he wanted me to explain. Of course he did. He wanted the gory details.

  But to his credit, he did not try to touch me. Did not try to pull me toward him. And when I remained quiet for a long time, he did not ask again. He simply waited, affording me all the time I needed to dredge up my most painful secret, fold it in my hands, and hold it out to him for judgment.

  “Out here, in the English world, there’s a word called ‘patriarchy.’ It means ‘rule of the father.’ That’s what it’s like in the village. Women are substandard. Men are the heads of the households, of the village council—they comprise the entirety of the society of elders—they are in every position of power. There, back home, it’s just… the way things are. Most people don’t even question it. It’s been that way for so long that they have no reason to. It’s like the sun rising in the east and setting in the west—they simply take it for granted.

  “My father was… well, I suppose is… a very respected man. He’s got a reputation. He’s got friends in high places. See, he’s the kind of man who can get someone what they want. Doesn’t matter what it is. He’ll find it. Offer it up on a silver platter. That’s how he got all that respect—give people what they wanted. Even when it was…” I touched the neckline of my dress, suddenly feeling very exposed. “…even when it was me.

  “I was always pretty. I don’t… I don’t say that to sound vain, but it’s true. People commented on it all the time, just not like they would out here. I see women pass young girls, and they say, ‘Oh, you are just so pretty!’ like it’s the best thing in the world. But where I come from, prettiness like mine is a sin. A burden. My mother and her friends would draw their lips into these thin, grim lines and shake their heads at me. My prettiness was a problem. Even though I tried so hard to cover it up.

  “Modesty is important to the Amish. But even with almost every inch of me covered by some kind of cloth—shoes, my dress, my apron, my bonnet—I still wasn’t modest enough. Not by my father’s standards. And not by those of the elders, either.

  “That was the justification for… for what they did.” I wet my suddenly dry, cracking lips. “They’d say, ‘your vanity is a sin.’ Like I… like I asked for it. Like they were punishing me for some crime I never asked to commit. They… they took turns on various nights. Always, Father would escort me to their offices in the basement of the church, and then they’d…”

  I couldn’t bring myself to say it. To describe the things they’d done to me. Ash, sensing this perhaps, quickly interjected, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Hannah. It’s them. It’s always them.”

  I closed my eyes. It didn’t stop the flow of tears. “I fought. I did. I tried so hard. But I learned not to when they bound my hands. And sometimes… sometimes I’d scream, but I learned not to do that either when they put a bit in my mouth. The one they used for the horses…”

  Every time I saw Beth with her beloved horses, it made me so mad. And I hated that I felt that way. I hated that I hated the horses for something they hadn’t done. I hated hating her for loving them. I hated all the daydreams I had about killing those beasts, ensuring Father never had a legitimate excuse to keep the bit around ever again. The anger of a teenage girl, displaced and confused. I feel guilty to this day for how cold I was to Beth about them, how cruelly I avoided the creatures who had never done a thing to harm me.

  All because I could do nothing about the creatures who had.

  “It was shame that kept me quiet,” I said after the tension in my throat eased up again. “Shame, and fear. Father said I would be shunned if I told—that everyone would know what a whore I was. But it got so bad. The bruises. The… the blood. Mother kept questioning it, and when I finally told her…”

  I still remembered, distinctly, the look in her eyes. The confusion. The horror. And then, to my own horror, the disbelief.

  “She didn’t believe me,” I choked, lifting my hand to wipe my eyes of the tears that blinded them. “She went right to him and asked, as if he’d ever admit to it! As if any of them would! And do you know what he told her, my mother, when she asked him if my accusations were true?” I laughed. It was not a happy sound. “He told her he’d caught me ‘entertaining’ some English boys out in the field. He told her he was going to spare me punishment because he thought I’d learned my lesson, but now that I was making up lies…”

  The room was spinning. Furniture tilted at a dangerous angle. Pressure in my head mounted, threatening to close a certain hazy blackness in around me, and I had to put my head down between my knees and breathe before I was overtaken by it.

  Now, Ash did move to touch me. His hand was on my back, rubbing steadily. I flinched and he withdrew, but I shook my head and forced myself to look at him finally. “No. Please. Don’t… don’t move away. Touch me. I… I need to feel like I’m not damaged goods.”

  Those words seemed to make him so sad. “You’re not,” he told me in a way that made me believe it. And then he put his arm around me, sitting close, our thighs touching as I collected myself so as not to pass out.

  When I’d regained some semblance of composure, I said, “I didn’t even stay to deal with that punishment. It was to begin the next morning. But Rumspringa was upon us, and I knew… I knew if I left, no one in Bright Falls would question it. No one in the village, either. It was the perfect excuse, the perfect opportunity to run away. No one would know why I’d done it. They’d just assume I’d chosen not to return and commit myself to the church. I was so ashamed by that point, so convinced it must have been my fault, that the idea that I’d somehow make things easier on my father didn’t even bother me. And why should it? I wouldn’t be around to see it.”

  Ash frowned. “But your sisters…”

  I nodded. That was an ever greater source of shame for me than my abuse was. “I know. I… I can’t really justify it. I just couldn’t take them with me. They’d never go, not unless I told them what happened, and I was convinced if I did that, they wouldn’t believe me. They’d take his side, just like our mother did. Part of me still believes that’s exactly what they would do, even now…”

  “Even now?” Ash asked. He stared at me. “You still haven’t told them?”

  I stared back at him, unblinking. “I’ve told no one but you.”

  He sighed, and for a moment, I thought he was exasperated with me. I thought I’d gone and done the thing I’d told myself I wouldn’t do—I’d relied on him far too much, made things more complicated than he’d signed up for. But then I saw the look on his face, and I knew he wasn’t upset with me. He was furious. With them. My father, and the others who had assaulted me. Maybe even my mother, who had refused to believe me when I told her.

  “Did he touch the girls?” he asked. It came out as a sound that was more animal that human. “Sarah and Beth?”

  I shook my head emphatically. “No. Never. I kept in touch with them any way I could. Secret letters, delivered by Amish kids returning to the village after Rumspringa. Leaving them in a tree stump near the property, or buried in the field. I gleaned from what they told me that Father became… more
careful, after I left. Tightened his hold, suspended his more… obvious activities. I bought them two years, at least—paid for their innocence with my isolation. And I’d do it again. I’d sacrifice that and more for my sisters.”

  “I know you would,” Ash said softly, kissing my temple. I closed my eyes. That small gesture felt so good. “But the way you talk, it sounds like your dad was into more than just…” He hesitated. Couldn’t say the words. I didn’t blame him.

  “Like I said, he could get anybody anything,” I told him, holding myself tight. “I know that at the very least, he was running drugs through the village. Not to distribute there, obviously—but as a waypoint. Someplace safe they could be stored before being distributed in the city. It earned him a cut of the cash, which in turn bought him more power. Although, I’m pretty sure that’s not the only thing he did with it. He took… trips, sometimes. He’d go to run errands with the buggy, and it would always take him forever.” I soured. “I’m sure he found plenty of other vices to spend it on.”

  Ash leaned back against the sofa. He looked a little shell-shocked. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “I mean… what about the police?”

  I shrugged. “I thought about it. But it would’ve been my word against his. And the thing is, the Amish community is pretty insular. Cops, I found out, pretty much leave them to their own devices. Not that they wouldn’t arrest him for something like this, but they’d be hard-pressed to seriously investigate, especially with no witnesses or evidence besides my statement. On top of that…” My stomach turned. This—this was the main reason I had never felt like telling my story mattered. “On top of that, our culture, our religion… it’s all about forgiveness. There is no internal system of crime and punishment. Not really. For the vast majority of sins, there is only forgiveness. You have but to ‘sincerely’ claim that you’re sorry, and it all goes away. How’s that for justice?”

  Ash gaped at me. “You’re… you’re serious?”

  “As a heart attack,” I confirmed bitterly. “But yeah. Unless you’re not sorry, or you do something really heinous… murder, maybe… that’s it. You’re forgiven. The other options are being shunned, or being banished. I’ve seen people shunned before, mostly women for daring to assert themselves in any way. But banished?” I shook my head. “Never even heard of it happening. As far as I know, at least in our community, it’s unprecedented.”

  “You really had no one to turn to. No one who could help you.”

  The resignation in his tone was palpable. It echoed my own despair when I’d come to that realization. “Nope.”

  We were both quiet for a long time. Longer than I was comfortable with, really. Part of me wanted Ash to say something, anything, even if it was something stupid—like, “It’s gonna be okay” or “We’ll figure this out.” Neither of those things were true. I was never going to be okay. I was never going to forgive those bastards for what they did. I was only ever going to be less fucked up about it, as the years passed by—that’s the best I could hope for.

  Another part of me was afraid to hear whatever was running through his mind. Ash was a decent guy. I had no doubt he wished to do my father, and perhaps the community, some serious violence. There was nothing he’d said that made me think he didn’t believe me. Nothing that made me feel like he blamed me for what they’d done. But I still felt like I’d crossed a line, letting him in on all this. A line he’d pushed me over, sure, but a simple fact remained.

  We couldn’t go back from this. Not ever. Ash could not forget, and neither could I. We’d reached a turning point, and there would be consequences. I just wasn’t sure what they might be.

  “Sorry,” I said, and he looked at me, his eyebrows raised. “For dumping all this on you. I know you asked, but… I’m sure you didn’t know what you were getting into. And I’m sure you’d rather not be involved.”

  Slowly, Ash took my hand. He threaded his fingers through my own, and I could see from the size of his hand that he could easily crush me, easily break every bone. But he didn’t. I could see also that the thought never even occurred to him.

  He said, “I promised to protect you, Hannah. You and the girls. Without knowing from what, or from who. Knowing my enemy doesn’t nullify that promise. It just gives me a clearer picture of what I have to fight.” He lifted our hands and kissed the back of mine. “I know why they can’t go back now. And I get that you’re worried that your father might send someone after them—he sees them as his property. Isn’t that right?” I nodded weakly and he sighed against my skin. “Thank you. For telling me. For trusting me with this.”

  “Things would be easier if I hadn’t,” I whispered. “We could be in… in a much simpler place.”

  Ash held my gaze. “In all the world,” he said, “there’s no place I’d rather be.”

  My tears flowed anew as I realized he meant it.

  16

  Ash

  Fear seized me as Hannah began to cry again. Goddamn, I thought. What did I do wrong?

  I wasn’t annoyed by it. Not at her, anyway. I was pissed at myself for whatever it was, for however I’d managed to screw up this time. I’d been so indelicate with her before, so impatient for answers that I’d made what was surely one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do even harder. Now all I wanted to do was comfort her, make up for what an insistent ass I’d been. Even though maybe I never could.

  But as I moved to wipe her tears with my thumb, she looked up at me again and kissed me. Hard. Passionately. On the mouth.

  I closed my eyes and surrendered. There was little romance in this kiss—it was more hot desperation, urgent need. She wanted to feel something other than pain. She wanted to be touched in ways that didn’t leave scars.

  She really did want to forget.

  I kissed her back, opening my mouth to receive her, to flutter my tongue against hers in light, teasing strokes. Hannah moaned, her fingers in my hair, nails on my scalp as she pulled me closer to her, trying to negate the distance between our bodies—inches that felt like entire worlds.

  I knew this hunger. I understood it well. It was the same gnawing ache that drove me to drink after Dad got locked up. The same shrieking void that sometimes felt like it could never be filled. And maybe for me, there was no salvation. But for Hannah? I would make damn sure there was.

  “C’mere,” I said softly, scooping her into my arms. She didn’t seem like the kind of girl who particularly liked to be carried, but when I stood, she made no fuss. “I’ll make you forget now.”

  “Thank you,” she sighed. It broke my heart in two.

  I kissed her all the way to her bedroom, already knowing the way, not even having to look. I laid her down on top of the duvet, holding my body over hers, but this time leaving her hands free to roam as they pleased. Most other times I’d bound her in some way, forcing her hands over her head or otherwise limiting her mobility because she seemed to like it rough. But now that I knew why, that it’s all she’s ever known, I also knew that wasn’t what she needed right now.

  “If you want me to stop,” I whispered, slowly undoing the zipper at the back of her dress, “you just tell me. Okay?” I brought my free hand up to caress her face. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

  She looked at me, her head cocked. “Why are you telling me this?” she asked.

  “Because I need to,” I answered, steadily peeling the luxe, textured fabric off her. It felt even better than I’d imagined it would, but Hannah’s soft, naked skin felt better. “I need you to know you’re safe with me, love, and not just because I can knock a man’s teeth down his throat if I have to. I need you to know I would never hurt you. Not… not like they did.”

  Guilt welled up inside me as I recalled our first time in that bathroom at Trick Shots. When I’d slipped her panties into her mouth. There was no way I could have known what that might dredge up for her, but the fact that I’d done it… and she hadn’t said anything…

  “It’s okay,”
she told me with a little shake of her head. “You can have me exactly how you want me. That’s… that’s how this works.”

  I frowned. “No. It’s not.” Carefully, and with both hands, I worked my fingers into the band of her panties and slid them off her. “It’s not about how you think I want it. It’s about making love to you the way you deserve…”

  Hannah sucked her lip into her mouth, and I immediately knew what was coming. I was already drawing her into my arms, pulling her against me as she started to cry, burying my face in the silky waves of her hair and rocking her while she sobbed.

  “I’m… I’m so sorry,” she hiccupped, and I squeezed her tighter.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” I assured. “We can stop. It’s all right. I just… I just want to make you happy.”

  And I did. More than anything in the whole world, I wanted Hannah to be happy. Just that. For all eternity. That would be a good start to making up for all the shit she’d been through.

  Hannah buried her face in the curve of my neck. Her voice was a soft, lamenting sigh. “That’s just it, Ash… I do want to. I want to be with you so bad it hurts. I’m just… I’m not used to it being like this.”

  I looked down at her, tucking a few strands of wayward hair behind her ears. “Like what?”

  Her eyes glistened, even in the darkness. “Gentle.”

  I touched my lips to hers. “That gets fixed right now.”

  I helped Hannah undress me, watched as her shaky fingers worked at the buttons of my shirt before I shrugged it off so she could get to my pants. I’d dressed up for her a little too, tonight. I didn’t look anywhere as nice as she did, but I’d made an effort—one that told the story of just how bad I wanted her, when my erection filled out inside my slacks. Her hand was on it immediately, coaxing, rubbing, exploring the length with a slow and tender touch. I could tell she was holding back, forcing herself to take things at a less frantic pace, and it killed me to know that she’d never been cared for like this before.