Sage (Club Nymph Book 3)

by Abby Gale

  Age 12

  I’m in the middle of a meadow. There are flowers between the golden colored bushes. I’m alone, but I’m not afraid as I walk between the bushes. They’re soft, not scratching my skin.

  Then I feel hands around my waist, but the feeling doesn’t scare me. Those hands are familiar.

  I turn to face the owner of them with a smile on my face.

  It’s Nick. He’s smiling down at me. We’re so close, our bodies sway together like we’re dancing.

  He leans down, his lips touch mine.

  I giggle and push away from him, running playfully. He runs to catch me. And he does catch me.

  We fall to the ground. He’s on top of me, and his face is mere inches away from mine. He leans down again, getting closer. This time I don’t run as he kisses me. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back.

  Our bodies rub against each other through our clothes like they know what they’re doing even though I have no idea. And in the blink of an eye, we’re naked. I can feel his body on top of mine. My heart beats faster, my mouth gets dry. I feel hungry, thirsty, but it’s another level of hunger or thirst like I don’t need water or food. My body wants him, craves him. There’s an intense desire inside me that tries to crawl out, like an itch. I want to scratch it, but it’s so deep down I can’t reach it. I have relief only when Nick kisses me, so I kiss him more, deeper.

  I feel his hand move down my body as he still kisses me. A voice breaks out of my throat, like a moan when he touches between my legs.

  That’s when I wake up.

  I wake up with my hand between my legs and my heart in my throat.

  I quickly move my hand away from myself, but as soon as I do that, I want to move it back where it was. I feel the loss of it. There is that aching need to scratch the itch inside me, I want to rub where it throbs the most.

  Hesitantly, I move my hand back to between my legs. I’m slightly wet. I touch the wetness and rub myself without knowing what to do. I feel silly as I do that, but after a few tries, I find a rhythm, a rhythm that causes a tickling sensation inside me. I keep rubbing, using all three fingers to circle myself. My breathing quickens, the tickling intensifies. My body tenses, my legs start to shake, and something breaks inside of me as I muffle my scream behind my palm.

  I lay back down on the bed, trying to catch my breath. Finally, when everything slows down, I turn to look at the door, a fear of my mother seeing me grips my throat, making it hard for me to breathe. Getting out the bed I hurry to the bathroom and close the door behind me.

  I feel strange. My body feels strange. Taking off my clothes, I examine myself in the mirror. I look pink and swollen between my legs, and it’s sensitive there when I touch again. There’s a strange excitement inside of me, the giddiness of new knowledge, the sparkling sensation of something private and mature.

  The door opens when I touch the swollen folds. I’m stunned with shock, coming face to face with my mother. My mouth gapes open with panic and fear.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Mom barges in, her eyes are focused on my hand that is still between my legs.

  “Mom!” I shriek, trying to grab my dress from the floor and put it on as quick as possible.

  Mom grabbed my arm, shaking me with a furious look on her face. “I ask what the hell you were doing in here, naked, young lady,” she yelled at me. Her face is contorted with anger and disgust.

  “Mom! You’re hurting me.” My voice shook.

  “Tell me what you were doing? Were you making sin? Did you become a sinner? Like the girls I tried to protect you from, are you turning into one?”

  “No, Mom. I was… I was just looking at…” I stuttered with nonsense, but no matter what I say she won’t hear me. She’s furious.

  She pulls me out of the bathroom, and I know she’ll lock me in the closet again, but I panic when we pass the closet without stopping.

  I start sobbing, pleading with her, but she doesn’t listen to any words I say. When we reach the door I start screaming, kicking the air to get free of her arms, but she’s strong, so much stronger than me. And I can’t stop her as she pushes me out of the door where everyone can see me, to the cold winter air, totally naked.

  I kneel next to the door, begging for my mom to take me inside as I try to cover my nakedness, but she doesn’t care about my cries. I hear the locks on the other side of the door, and all my hope leaves me with that noise.

  I become a ball, trying to protect myself from the cold as much as covering my nakedness. I see some boys pass by me, I close my eyes, hoping they won’t see me, but they do. Everyone who passes by sees me makes fun of me, throws things at me, calling me all sorts of names. And I just stay, my arms wrapped around my knees as I rock back and forth.

  I don’t know if I passed out or fell asleep, but when I open my eyes someone is wrapping a blanket around my body. I can’t see who it is, my eyes don’t focus. I can hear murmurs, but I can’t make sense of them. Then, arms wrap around me, enveloping me into the warmth that causes me to break into another session of sobs.

  “Shh… I’m here, Veronica. Shh, it’s okay.”

  The words finally make sense, and I look up. It’s Nick, hugging me, kissing my hair, my temple. His eyes are teary just like mine, and I reach to touch the single teardrop that falls from his cheek.

  He looks so beautiful. He shouldn’t cry. He’s too beautiful to cry. I nestled closer to his body. He’s strong now. I can feel the hard muscles in his arms as he hugs me even tighter.

  “I’m here, baby,” he whispers to me, and I nod my head at him.

  “Let me take you to my house,” he whispers.

  I shake my head. I don’t want to anger my mother more than she’s already been. She’s the only family I have, this is the only house I know. I can’t just go with him.

  “Veronica, please. You’ll freeze here,” he says, but I shake my head again.

  He finally sighs and nods. “Okay, I’m staying with you, then.”

  And he stays.

  He stays till the Sun rises again.

  He stays and whispers to me sweet nothings, keeps me warm even though he shakes with the cold too. He even whispers he loves me over and over again, kissing away my tears.

  He stays until the door opens.

  My mother looks at Nick and me, back and forth a few times. I try to stand up even though I feel anger brewing inside me, but Nick holds me down into his arms.

  My mother reaches and grabs my arm. Her fingers dig into my skin, but she doesn’t care. She looks like she’s in a trance and I know she’s been praying inside the closet all night. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t keep you away from sin. But I won’t let my baby girl be a sinner. I will help you. I will protect you from the fires of hell,” she talks with a robotic voice.

  She pulls me inside, ripping me away from Nick’s arms and puts a dress over my head. I’m too weak to stop her and too scared to argue. Then, she pulls me out of the door. Her steps are fast next to me, I have a hard time keeping up with her.

  I hear Nick following us, he’s calling for me, but I’m too scared to say anything to her. My mom is scaring me as she starts repeating the same words again and again: “I will protect you.”

  And she doesn’t stop chanting those words until we stop in front of the all-girl Catholic school.

  She should have protected me, but she didn’t. She put me right into the heart of hell under the name of God, and I hated her for it.

  And I hated God, too…

  Chapter 15

  Present

  My door is locked once.

  Just once.

  And I have never ever locked my door once.

  Goosebumps erupt on my skin, the hair on my neck stands at full attention while my heart hammers in my chest. My feet drag on the floor as I step into my apartment, but I take a deep breath and force myself to move.

  There’s nothing extraordinary inside. The usual mess of my living room is the same. A blanket is
still dangling off the couch and cushions are on the floor. I’m not outgoing much, so my apartment is where I spend my time when I’m not in the club and if it’s a stranger or even the police was in my living room right now, they wouldn’t see anything suspicious.

  But I do.

  The wine glass on the coffee table isn’t there, nor the book I’ve been reading. Swallowing my nerves, I look at everything more carefully. The Bonsai tree in the corner of the room has been watered, and I’m not the one who’s done that.

  For a second, I’ve considered the idea of calling the police, but I don’t have any trust in them. For me, the law enforcement lost their image of safety long ago. I don’t trust in anything, alive or not. Nothing’s good. Nothing’s safe. Nothing’s trustworthy.

  So, I check my apartment, every cabinet, every drawer, every window, and every room. There’s no one. And Night doesn’t look tense, worried, or scared. He doesn’t like new people, and I don’t think he’d be this relaxed if there was someone in the room. I finally stop walking around the house like a mad woman and sigh. It must be my distraction. Since the day Nick showed up in my life, I haven’t been myself. I’ve been easily distracted, and my mind has been so preoccupied I keep forgetting things.

  Fucking Nick. He’s complicating everything with his existence.

  Finally, when I convince myself there’s no threat, I go to my bookshelf to choose another book to read. I look at my collection of the ancient cultures and myths, before finally deciding on the Greek Myth. I settle down on the couch with my book in hand and Night on my lap. My eyes are moving over the room, expecting a movement, a danger, a something. Closing my eyes, I breathe through my nose, trying to calm my nerves and reassure myself that I’m alone, that I’m safe in here. Finally, when my heartbeat slows down, I open my book and start reading.

  For someone who was raised to be religious, losing faith in God is traumatic. You feel empty, lost. You feel like you need to find another belief to anchor you in the world, something bigger than you, something that isn’t cruel and that doesn’t let you suffer under his gaze. That’s how I start my collection of ancient cultures. I don’t know what I’m really looking for or hoping to find in those myths, but reading about the gods and goddesses who have failed to make existence in twenty-first century gives me a sick satisfaction like I can say “See? You’ve failed, too!” Reading those strong power figures just as myths and imaginary creatures gives me the power to deny their strength, just like the way he denied me his mercy once upon a time.

  Do you think I’m an atheist?

  No, I’m not. I don’t think there’s no god, I know there is. I just don’t believe in him. I’ve lost my faith in him when he showed me his cruel face. I don’t think he deserves my loyalty or my submission. I think he’s as fucked up as the world he has created.

  Do you think I’m a sinner?

  Well, I am. Because being innocent has only caused me pain.

  Swallowing down the bitter taste in my mouth, I open Prometheus’ Eternal Punishment. This is the story I feel the most connected to. I can feel his hate for Zeus’ like my own. I know how it has felt to survive another day without dying, how complicated your emotions have become between feeling relieved and cursed.

  I close my book and head to the kitchen to get myself a glass of water. My coffee jar is full, but it was almost empty this morning. I look at the phone on the countertop and consider calling someone, the police, or the girls from the club, but I decide against it. After everything with Violet and Angel, I’ve gotten closer to the girls; Harley and Salem are almost like my friends now, since we’re always together in the club, but I’m not a woman who would call someone for help. So, I straighten my back and look for the sharpest knife in the kitchen.

  As I go to bed with a deadly weapon in my hand, I feel safer.

  ***

  I sit up in panic. I don’t know what has woken me up, there’s still fifteen minutes until my alarm, but my heart is ramming in my chest. I get out of the bed; the knife is still in my hand as I walk around the room. There’s a strange smell in the house, and it gets stronger as I get closer to the kitchen. When I step into the living room area, a tray of breakfast greets me on the kitchen counter.

  I stop dead in my tracks before forcing myself to move toward the tray like it’s a grenade instead of food, but it’s not much different than a bomb for me right now. Someone’s been in my house, in my kitchen; that is an explosive danger.

  Eggs, bacon, grilled cheese, and tomatoes are on the plate. Everything’s still hot, the scent is still fresh. Whoever this person is he was here just a few minutes ago, but that’s not the reason for my gasp. I caress the smooth surface of the chocolate, the only brand I’ve ever eaten, the chocolate I’ve brought to my present from my past, from the hopeful and exciting days when I was dreaming about meeting a boy with a gentle smile.

  He’s been here, sharing his chocolate with me like he did when we were kids like nothing has changed or no time has passed.

  Nick’s been here.

  Chapter 16

  Past

  Age 12

  The first week has passed by filled with fear and tears. I’m staying in the same room with other girls at my age, but I don’t talk to them. My mother’s words chant in my mind.

  Don’t trust anybody.

  I don’t. I can’t.

  Even my own mother kicked me out of the door and brought me here. How can I trust anybody else?

  But I miss Nick.

  I cry whenever I think of him. He hugged me all night, kept me warm, comforted me as I cried on his chest.

  I smile through my tears when I remember his words.

  I love you, Nikki. I love you so much. We’ll get over this. You’ll be good.

  He sounded like a man instead of a teenager as he whispered those words to me.

  “Why don’t you come outside with us?” The girl who sleeps on the bed next to mine says.

  I frown, trying to remember her name.

  “It’s Bella,” she says, smiling broadly. “I know you must feel strange to be away from your house, your bed, but it’s good here. You can be friends with us, you know?”

  A small smile breaks on my face as I look at her. She looks friendly.

  “C’mon. Get some fresh air, it’s boring to stay here all day.” She grasps my hand and pulls me to my feet.

  I giggle. “Okay, I’m coming.”

  Bella introduces me with other girls and they immediately let me in their conversation. Maybe being here won’t be as bad as I think.

  “Nikki!” I hear the familiar voice calls out for me.

  I quickly turn to face the source of the voice and beams with happiness. Nick is here, at the other side of the giant metal bars.

  Our arms reach out and pull each other closer for a hug.

  “How can I get inside?” he asks.

  “I don’t think you’ll be allowed inside. All girl school, you know.”

  He nods. “Fuck, Nikki. I missed you. Are you okay? Are you happy here?” His voice is concerned, and his hands are caressing my face, my hair, my arms like he’s trying to touch everywhere all at once.

  I laugh at his concern. “Relax, Nick. Yeah, I’m okay. I have friends, look,” I say, turning to point out the girls who are looking at us curiously.

  “Oh, that’s good,” he murmurs, rubbing his neck like he’s in trouble before saying, “I’ve been coming here every day to see you. You were never in the garden, I got worried.”

  “I didn’t think you’d be here. If I knew I would have come out every day.”

  He smiles. “I can see you every afternoon? After school? Like we always meet?”

  I nod. “Yes! I’ll come every day, I promise.”

  Chapter 17

  Present

  Have you ever gotten the sense of anxiety without a reason?

  The panic deep in your bones. Do you know that feeling? The one that erupts goosebumps on your skin like you’re being watched. This is
how I feel when I open my eyes.

  I sit up on the bed, my heart is in my throat, my gaze moves around the room from one corner to the other. Finally, my eyes land on the envelope in my vanity table.

  It’s the same envelope. The first one is already in the drawer.

  I shudder.

  He’s been here, in my bedroom, when I was in the most vulnerable state a person can be in, sleeping.

  What the hell does he want from me?

  Why does he give me letters but no explanation?

  He was a friend back in time, even more than a friend. But now? Is he a friend or an enemy to me?

  I stand up to grab the letter, hesitating before ripping the envelope apart.

  Dear Nikki,

  I haven’t sent you the first letter, because I don’t even know where you are. I don’t know why I’m writing you another letter that won’t reach you. I think I’m still hoping you’ll show up, but you won’t, will you?

  Why Nikki?

  Why don’t you come to see me?

  Do you know my secret?

  Do you hate me that much even though I’ve done everything in my power to fix what happened to you?

  Doesn’t it mean anything to you that I sacrificed my freedom for you? To clear your name and to show that you’re innocent?

  Yes, Nikki. I did it for you.

  I’ve shot the Sheriff in his leg and made him confess what he’s done to you. I didn’t kill him, though. I know he deserved it and so much more for everything you’ve gone through, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be the one who killed him. I’m sorry for that.

  I hope you can understand one day.

  And I hope you forgive me…

  Nick.

  What?

  This is the only word I can muster after what I read.

  What secret is he talking about?

  Did he really shoot the Sheriff? For me?

  I’ve never heard anything about that, but I think it’s not a shock. I’ve been focused on getting my life together for years after I got out of jail. Everything was so fresh, and I wanted to leave all those memories behind me until I could find a place to work and stay. Only after that did I start to wear my pain and loneliness like a cloak around me. But was I really lonely then? When someone goes to jail for me, to clear my name, and to give those monsters what they deserved, would it make me lonely? I wish I knew. I wish I knew what he sacrificed for me.