[Forbidden book 02] Forbidden Rapture
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to go out for dinner, lunch, or anything. It was expected of her to
cook every meal, even if her father didn’t show up. If something
new was desired, then the recipe and food were given over.
“I don’t know what to order,” she finally said, putting the menu
down with a sigh. “I’ve never really been out for lunch before.”
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“Well, then, let me help you out.” Kera gave her a friendly
smile. “It’s all pasta or nothing. Lobster spaghetti is great. They
put these large chunks of lobster in with the pasta and put this
kick ass sauce on top. It’s also good with steak, but I love lobster.
It was the first meal Devon and I had when we left the
Compound.”
“Then lobster it is,” Samara nodded.
Kera ordered. She even requested a bottle of red wine to go
with the meal. But as much as Samara was enjoying her day out,
her mind refused to let her completely relax.
“So what’d he do?” Kera asked, snapping Samara out of her
thoughts.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re father.” When Samara didn’t answer, Kera just rolled
her eyes and sat forward. “We don’t end up at the Compound
because our fathers wish us the best. Mine sold me and bailed.
Haven’t heard a word from him now for about a year. Wow! Time
really does fly when you’re having fun.”
“So you and Devon have been together for a year now?”
“Yep, and let me tell you, it wasn’t all roses at first.” She
smiled and their food came. “I fought him all the way.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t want to have anything to do with the Compound or the
rules.” Samara watched her take her fork and twirl the spaghetti
around with a chunk of the lobster at the end. “I wanted to go to
school and make something of myself, but when my father did
what he did, I really thought it ruined my life.”
“But it didn’t?”
“Don’t let him know I said this, but Devon is a life saver. I don’t
know where the hell I’d be if he didn’t come along. Girls that end
up sold to the Compound usually don’t come out with a happily-
ever-after life.” Kera took a bite and Samara thought about what
she said.
“I wasn’t sold,” Samara stated. “My father didn’t want me to
have anything to do with the Compound. In fact, I don’t think he
wanted me to have anything to do with anything.” She picked up
her fork and worked the spaghetti the same manner in which Kera
had done. Her first taste of lobster and she was lost. “Oh, my God!
This is great.”
“Told you so.” Kera smiled.
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They ate, and once more Kera surprised her by ordering
dessert. A large double layered chocolate mousse cake for
Samara and strawberry cheesecake for herself.
“If I keep eating like this, I’m not going to be able to fit into
those clothes we just bought,” Samara giggled.
“Don’t worry. We can start going to the gym,” Kera waved her
hand at her and laughed.
“Well, well,” said a dry voice. “I never thought I’d see the day
when this fine restaurant would let something like you in.”
Kera straightened her back lowered her fork and the
expression on her face told Samara all she needed to know.
“I must say, I’m a bit impressed that you can eat without
stringing it all over the place,” came another side comment.
Kera put on a big smile and turned in her seat, looking up at
the blonde woman before her. “Samara, let me introduce you to
Beth—I’m a fucking cunt—White.”
The woman’s jaw dropped. “I shouldn’t be at all shocked at
your manners. Trash like you knows no better.”
“And I’d thought by now that scorned bullshit of yours would
pass.” Kera stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s
been a year, Beth. Get over it and yourself. He never was
interested in you.”
The blonde in the designer paint suit turned her eyes on
Samara. Samara held her breath, waiting for whatever it was to
come. “And what’s this? Your charity case?”
“What? You mean you haven’t heard?” Kera gasped, pressing
her hand to her throat, putting on a very good ‘I’m stunned’ act.
“Dane got married.”
Again the woman looked stunned, but this time, it had an air
of ‘I’m put out’ to go along with it. “Well, I must say—”
“Do you have to,” Kera mumbled.
“You really have brought them all down low. “It’s a good thing
Blaine and Darius aren’t around to witness their friends’ downfall.
I’m sure the embarrassment alone would have them cutting ties.”
“Beth, why don’t you go back to the hole you just crawled out
of,” Kera sighed. “Your shit bores me.”
“At least I can see that nice clothes don’t take the trash out of
people,” Beth snapped.
“You’re right, so let me be as clear as I can. If you come
around me again with that shit, I’m going to knock it right out of
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your mouth.”
“Are you threatening me?”
Kera smiled, but it was one of the smiles that had you wanting
to take a step back or cringe in fright. Beth did neither.
“I’m not threatening you, just stating a fact.” She turned to
Samara. “Come on. I’d hate for you to lose your lunch by being in
this bitch’s company.”
Samara got the hint, and quickly stood up, following Kera out
of the restaurant.
“What was that all about?” Samara asked.
“Beth White. She used to be one of Devon’s old lovers.” The
casual manner in which Kera said that had Samara stopping in
the middle of the street. Again, Kera rolled her eyes at her. “It was
a long time ago, and I’ve gotten over it. Apparently, Beth refuses
to.”
Again, Samara followed her, jogging some to catch up. “So
she doesn’t like you being married to him.”
“No one does really.” They got into the car, but Kera didn’t
start the engine. They sat in silence for a few moments before she
turned to Samara in the seat. “We come from a different class of
people, Samara, the other side of the tracks, so to speak. You
know, as well as I that the people in this town want things to stay
just the way they are. The guys marry their own class of people,
and so on and so forth.”
“Yeah, I figured that out a long time ago,” Samara sighed.
“Well, there are also many of those guys that don’t want to
comply and we happen to be married to two of them.”
Samara frowned. “But what about this Blaine and Darius?
Don’t they want to stick with their own class?”
“Blaine, no. Darius, no clue. Only met the guy a few times. He
doesn’t stick around long enough to get to know.”
“My fat
her used to re-iterate it over and over to me and my
sister that we had to stay with our own kind,” Samara stated with
another sigh. “But that was when we were young,” she added
quickly. She didn’t need to dish out her past. What her father did
and made her do was never to be spoken of. Dane wasn’t even
going to know.
“Well, I better get you back before he starts sending out
search parties.” Kera smiled and slapped her lightly on the leg.
“Lord knows Devon would.”
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Chapter Eight
Samara knew before she walked into the front door that
something was wrong. Her gut screamed it.
She thanked Kera for taking her out, waved good-bye with a
smile, and turned with this strange sense of dread overwhelming
her.
The house was deathly quiet. Only one lamp was left on and
next to the lamp, an envelope that was open with something
sticking out. She went over to it, her curiosity getting the better of
her. Putting the bags down on the chair next to the end table,
Samara picked up the envelope and brought out what was inside.
The air in her lungs went out in a rush and the room began to
spin.
Pictures! Pictures of her slipped from her fingers to the floor.
“My grandmother brought those over.” Samara jumped, hand
going up over her mouth. She turned around and stared at Dane
in shock. “They were mailed to her with a demand that you be
sent back to your father.” He sat in the dark at the dining room
table, a drink before him. “I want to know what’s going on,
Samara. I want to know everything and I want to know right now.”
Tears fell from her eyes. Silent, mortifying tears that left her
speechless. She couldn’t speak and there was no way in hell she
could tell him. She didn’t know Dane that well, and yet in her
heart, she felt like she had known him her whole life.
Hugging herself, she slowly advanced toward the table. The
closer she got the more of his face she could make out. And with
each step, a small sense of relief came. Dane didn’t have
contempt in his eyes or disgust. What she saw was genuine
concern.
Samara pulled out a chair, sat down across from him, and
sniffled. She wiped her face, brushed her hands through her hair,
and thought of what to say.
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“I don’t know where to begin,” she spoke low, and avoided his
eyes.
“How about the beginning?” When he took her hand, she
looked up at him. “I’m not going to judge you. I just need to know
what the hell is going on.”
She nodded, wiped her nose, and took a deep breath. “I told
you last night that I thought my father was involved in what you
were talking about. Remember?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
She shook her head, looking upward. “My mother just
disappeared. Makayla was only five and my father lost everything
he had to move us. We weren’t rich, but we sure as hell were
better off than what we were when you first saw me.” Another
deep breath and she met him in the eye once more. “He changed,
Dane. Something about when my mother disappeared, he
changed. And it wasn’t for the best.”
“Usually never is.”
“No, you don’t understand.” She pushed away from the table
and stood up, pacing. “He took everything that was of value and
locked it in his room. Any cash he got his hands on he hid. Bare
essences were given to me and Makayla. It was like living with a
damn stranger.”
“How long?”
“Six years,” she groaned. “Then, when Makayla turned
sixteen, he changed again. One day, he didn’t give a shit about
us, and then, the next he wanted to know everything. And I do
mean everything, Dane. Our time of the month, who we saw, even
how long it took us to get home from school. Everything.”
“He beat you?”
She looked at him quickly, only to lower her eyes to the floor.
“Sometimes.”
“And the pictures?”
Samara rubbed her arms, hugging herself, closing her eyes.
“Ten months ago. After I graduated from high school, he stopped
letting me out. I had to cook, clean, and take care of everything.
He came home one night and told me that someone was
interested in me. I was to dress up and take pictures of myself. If I
didn’t, then he was going to have Makayla do it and it wasn’t going
to be pretty.” Once more she met Dane in the eye. “I had no
choice,” she whispered.
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He stood up slowly, his cheek twitching. “What else?” Samara
shook her head, and Dane hit the table with his fist. “What else?”
he demanded.
She jumped from the sudden outburst and took a step back.
“It lasted for six months. Then, I had to dress up and go to this
place where the guy who paid for it all looked at me.”
“Looked at you?” Now she heard the anger in his voice, along
with the disbelief. “You telling me that your father whored you
out?”
“No.” She shook her head and held up a finger. “I was never
touched.”
“Oh, I know, you were untouched, in one way.”
“Dane, please,” she started to cry now. “I did it to protect my
sister.”
Dane rubbed his face and took several deep breaths. “I’m not
pissed at you.” He held his hand up. “But I’m going to kill your
father.”
She put both hands up to her mouth, took several deep
breaths before lowering them and speaking again. “I think he was
going to sell me.” It was hard to talk. “And I’m damn sure he’s got
something planned for Makayla.”
“Come here.” He held his arms out for her and Samara rushed
to him. He held her tight and she welcomed it. “Nothing’s going to
happen to Makayla. And I understand why you didn’t want to say
anything. If I was in your shoes, I’d want to forget about it also.”
“Something isn’t right,” her voice muffled against his chest.
“The rage in his face when they came to get me for the
Compound. I’ve seen Ryland pissed before, but that was
something I’ve never seen before.” She pulled back enough to
look up at him. “It was almost like he was scared and angry at the
same time.”
Dane touched the side of her face. “I think it’s time I had a
meeting with your father.” Samara shook her head. Fear had
rendered her speechless. “Yeah, way past time.”
“Dane, please,” she licked her lips, fisting her hands into his
shirt. “You don’t know what he’s like.”
“And he doesn’t know what I’m like, especially when I’m
pissed.”
* * * *
“Why is it that every time I come home, I get hit with shit like
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this,” Blaine Cedric groaned, lit his thin cigar, and slumped in one
of Devon’s leather chairs.
“Samara, meet Blaine Cedric,” Dane said.
Blaine Cedric is a dark man. That was the first impression
Samara got of the man who took up a whole leather chair. He had
dark eyes, dark hair, and a body that spoke of power. But even
though he gave the impression that he didn’t like to be bothered
with shit, his eyes told another story. She saw loneliness in the
cocoa depths.
“A pleasure,” Blaine stated those eyes of his giving her the
chills. He looked her up and down before turning his attention to
Dane. “Aundre Esopo. He’s Greek. He’s nasty. And he’s one
fucked up perv.”
“How the hell do you get this shit?” Devon asked with a shake
of his head.
Blaine crossed one leg over the other, shaking his hanging
ankle. “Money talks, bullshit walks. And I have a lot of money to
get people talking.”
“You need a hobby,” Dane remarked.
“Here you go.” Kera handed Blaine a cup of coffee and a
friendly smile to Samara.
Blaine took a sip and cringed. “I don’t want to sound
ungrateful, but honey, this sucks.”
Samara snickered and took the cup from him, “Let me. I feel
like a damn third wheel anyway.” She went into the kitchen and
began to get to work at brewing up a fresh pot.
“You okay?” Kera asked.
“Yeah, I guess. No!” She stopped and turned towards Kera. “I
don’t know what the hell is going on anymore. Not that I ever did.”
“I can’t say that I understand what you’re going through, but I
can say I understand the helpless feeling.”
“I just wish I knew what it was my father had planned for me
and Makayla.”
Kera smiled. “Oh, you will. I have discovered quickly that
when it comes to finding shit out, those dipshits in there are damn
good at discovering secrets. Come on.”
Samara picked up the cup and took it back to Blaine. He took
it, sipped, and a sparkle lit up in his eyes. “Wow. She’s good.” He
took another drink, then a drag on his cigar. “Okay boys and girls,
here’s the deal. Aundre Esopo likes them young, fresh, and he
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doesn’t really give a shit if it’s male or female. He pays high dollar