Peyton's Path: Fighting Fate Book 2

by SM Olivier

  “No, Dad, please no!” Aaron cried out.

  I couldn’t stay awake any longer as Coach took Aaron to a structure similar to a dog house about fifty feet from where Boyd hanged me earlier. The sounds of Aaron’s screams begging for forgiveness were the last thing I heard for a while.

  ●

  I often heard a baby crying but never when I was fully lucid. This morning, I was fully awake, serving eggs, sausage, and strawberries to the kids when I heard the crying. I had been teaching Claire how to cook when Tormentor came in from his morning run. As soon as he entered, she went over to him, and in a coquettish voice asked if he needed help in the shower.

  He almost looked like he was going to spurn her, but then he looked up and caught my gaze. It was as if he wanted to prove something to me by taking her hand and leading her up the steps. He might have given me a couple days’ rest, cuddled me and caressed me, but I wasn’t any closer to capitulating to him.

  I appeared like I was coming around to their way of thinking, being compliant, but I was far from it. Although there was a moment of weakness where I had considered doing anything to survive, but I stood strong. Coach Carson had reminded me of who was waiting for me.

  I had noticed cracks in their exterior. It was clear after a couple days ago that Tormentor and Coach were very close. It was also apparent they barely tolerated Boyd. They treated him like a recalcitrant child but seem reluctant to… excuse him from their crazy arrangement. Although it was clear they were not brothers by blood, they seemed bonded by something more significant.

  Last night, before I was forced back down into my box, I heard the men murmuring on the back porch. I had stopped to eavesdrop and heard Grandpa’s name mentioned, along with the FBI. My heart soared with hope. That was a good thing, right? With more people on the case maybe somehow, someway, Coach had made a mistake and left clues behind.

  Then the pain in my heart grew exponentially. Coach continued to tell him how Zane and Crew were playing like shit on the field. It only spurred me to get back home to them. My guys couldn’t throw their futures away over these assholes.

  I had wanted to linger longer but knew I shouldn’t. Tormentor regularly went out there only long enough to smoke a cigarette or two. He still perplexed me. I knew he had to be successful because he always came to the cabin in a tailored three-piece suit. When he was there, the meals had to have a protein, vegetable or fruit, and the carbs could only be “healthy” carbs. He ran every day, at least forty-five minutes, if not more, but yet he smoked.

  I paused as I heard the baby cry once more. “What’s that sound?” I ask.

  “It’s the baby.” Hope frowned. “Mom will get her.”

  “Which mom?” I asked in confusion. “What baby?”

  “Honor, and our mom.” Hope shrugged as if I should have known this.

  “Not my mom,” Aaron muttered stubbornly. “My mom’s dead because of those two.” He pointed accusing fingers at the Twins.

  I was further confused by this information. Was there another woman in this house? Where was she? Did Aaron and the Twins share the same mother?

  Aaron almost seemed… chastised when he was released from the outdoor box yesterday morning, but as the day progressed, I saw him glaring at the Twins more and more. Chastity got the brunt of his hateful scowls. He’d also been egging Boyd to hit me. It hadn’t happened yet, but Boyd had been groping me more than usual.

  After a few more cries, I couldn’t take it anymore. Tormentor was occupied with Claire, and either he didn’t hear the baby, or he didn’t care. I made my way to the stairs.

  “Don’t go up there!” Faith warned me with wide eyes.

  The children almost seemed leery of me and avoided me like the plague, until I had stuck up for Charity. From that moment on, I noticed how they seemed to…hang around me. Joy had even come to help me clean the main bathroom yesterday. She chatted almost incessantly while she’d hung out with me.

  “There’s a baby crying.” I paused at the bottom of the stairs, frowning.

  “Let her cry. Let her die,” I heard Aaron mutter under his breath.

  That only fueled my rage. I didn’t care if I was punished, but I couldn’t sit here and hear that baby cry a moment longer. Plus, my curiosity was beyond piqued now. Was there another woman kept upstairs? And with a baby?

  I climbed the stairs and headed in the direction of the cries. The room at the far right of the loft seemed to be the path I needed to head in. I paused for a moment with my hand on the door before I gathered up my courage and pushed it open.

  I noticed immediately that the room was the most elegant and updated room in the house. Light was pouring in from the window, bathing the yellow walls in a warm glow. The sheer white curtains blew gently from the open window. The furniture was a dark cherry color, and the bed that dominated the middle of the room was larger than any bed I had ever seen.

  The mournful wail snapped my attention back to the mission at hand, and I finally noticed a lump curled up in a snow-white, down comforter. Beside the lump, a baby wailed with an angry fist punching the air. I reacted without thinking and hurried to the side of the bed, scooping the baby up. She was dressed in a little pink onesie, her face red from crying.

  “Shh, shh, shh,” I cooed softly as I gently jostled her up and down.

  I noticed a wicker basket full of diapers, wipes, bottles, formula, and a few articles of baby clothing on the nightstand. Beside it was a gallon of water that had a baby’s face on it, and a label stating nursery water. On the floor was a bucket filled with empty bottles with milk residue.

  The baby stuck her fist in her mouth and angrily sucked on it.

  “She’s hungry,” I heard a weak voice rasp from the bed.

  I looked over, startled, and nearly dropped the baby from shock. If Hope was my past, the woman in the bed was my future. This had to be my Aunt Ava.

  28

  ●

  Permission

  “Aunt Ava?” I finally whispered after several moments of stunned silence, feeling more puzzle pieces falling into place.

  Her brows drew up in confusion, both of us staring at each other. Examining the other.

  She had been taken when she was seventeen. That would make her twenty-seven now. She was ethereally beautiful, but she looked so… drained, tired. She was nearly as tiny as I was, but through her white nightgown, I could still see the round softness of her belly from her recent delivery, and saw her fuller breasts.

  The baby cried once more, and I went into autopilot. I shifted Honor, Hope had called her, in my arms and picked up the formula to read the instructions. Pouring in four ounces of the water into a clean bottle, I measured out the scoops. I shook the now-prepared bottle and put the nipple into her little mouth. She greedily began to guzzle.

  “Are you the new Ava?” she asked finally, blinking slowly.

  “Hell no.” I nearly screamed at her calmness. She was looking at me like all was completely normal… just an average day of having a completely nude woman standing in her bedroom, feeding her baby.

  “I’m Peyton Delaney, your niece. You were taken from your mom and dad around ten years ago. I am your brother David’s kid.”

  She frowned at me. “I wasn’t taken, and David only has two daughters, named Leah and…Claire. He doesn’t have a daughter named Peyton. You are a good Ava, though. You almost look like us.”

  I was both confused and infuriated by her words. “You were kidnapped,” I insisted before I laughed dryly. “I was David’s dirty little secret. I’m Pricilla’s daughter. His high school sweetheart,” I added. With the age gap between Ava and David, maybe she didn’t remember David dating my mother in high school. “I am not ‘a good Ava,’ I’m a good Peyton because my name is Peyton Delaney. You are Ava.”

  I knew I was repeating myself, but part of it was for my own benefit. I was afraid, terrified. Scared of who I was becoming. I was also infuriated at myself for even entertaining the possibility of succumbing and g
iving in to my abductors. I was so hungry, and I wanted the pain to stop. I was starting to believe this life could get better if I just gave in to Tormentor’s gentle caresses.

  She let out a peal of soft, tinkling laughter. “I wasn’t taken or kidnapped, dear girl, I ran away. Stephen, Pearce, and I decided we wanted to be in a relationship.” She snorted. “Mom would have killed me if she found out I didn’t want to finish school, go to college, get married, and become a mother. Especially to guys that grew up on the wrong side of town. You might not want to be Ava right now, but you will become her…us. Those men will love you better than any man ever could. And we make beautiful babies, don’t we?” She tried to sit up and peer at her baby.

  I gaped at her. Who were Stephen and Pearce? And how did she end up with Coach, Tormentor, and Boyd? Had I entered another dimension where this was acceptable behavior? Was this a horrible case of Stockholm Syndrome? I never would have thought it possible had I not seen Claire become enraptured with them, including creepy Boyd. That had been accomplished in about a month. This woman had been with these monsters for ten years.

  “I have six men at home that miss and love me. I have a life that I need to get back to,” I scoffed.

  “What are you doing here, Ava?” I heard a cold voice say behind me.

  I stiffened and knew I couldn’t play dumb. Not right now. These men had knocked up my Aunt, over and over again. They had convinced her that this was life.

  “The baby was crying,” I said, turning around. “You were too busy screwing her fourteen-year-old niece to notice.” I pointed towards Ava.

  I looked over at her and saw she wasn’t too concerned that I’d just told her that the man she claimed to love, was in the other room with an underaged girl. In fact, she smiled broadly.

  “Pearce, how are you? Have you eaten yet?” she attempted to sit up again but immediately collapsed.

  I froze. Tormentor was Pearce. Did she really run away with them? And how was she okay with him bringing me or any other female into their house?

  Tormentor almost had a loving smile on his lips as he continued to glare at me. He made the few short strides into the room and gently took the baby from my arms, his eyes promising me retribution. He kissed the silky black hair on Honor’s head and gently laid her on the bed next to her mother.

  I was still frozen as I watched the bizarre scene unfold in front of me.

  “The new Avas have made breakfast,” he crooned softly, kissing the top of Ava’s head. “You need to rest and get stronger for us.” He unsnapped Honor’s onesie and quickly changed her diaper.

  “Okay.” She smiled. “I’m sorry I didn’t wake up when the baby cried. She had me up most of the night. I’m glad the new Avas are taking care of you.”

  He seemed almost… sad for a moment before he brushed her tawny hair off her face and kissed her cheek, tucking Honor into Ava’s arms. “They will learn. She will learn,” he said with a cold finality. He made his way over to me and grasped my arm.

  I cried out as his hands dug painfully into my bicep.

  “Don’t break her, Pearce,” she called out softly as we reached the door. “She’s really good with Honor. Joy and Hope are really taken with her, even Charity has nice things to say about her.” Then she laughed. “And I think Gideon has his first crush.”

  I wanted to scream and tell her how screwed up she was. The woman was insane! She’d basically given him permission to hurt me, permission to keep me and make me one of the mothers of his children.

  As soon as I opened my mouth, Tormentor pressed the button in his pocket, and an electric shock stole me of any sound.

  Dragged out of the room, I noticed a fireplace, and above it, I saw a picture of three young boys and someone that looked a lot like Ava, but her clothes were all… wrong. There were also some pictures of the children; several of Ava, Tormentor, and Coach, but only a few featured Boyd.

  ●

  I had never seen him chain smoke, but there was almost a look of desperation in his eyes as he rocked back and forth, smoking and taking the butts out on my arm. I had never seen him this… uncontrolled. I was powerless to stop the cries that ripped from my throat every time one of those hot cherries ground into my arm.

  I was on the cold, metal table in the basement, my arms and legs bound by leather straps that dug into my skin. My stomach was sour and empty, and I was so close to passing out from the pain.

  While he smoked and punished me, I tried to slip into my “happy place.” I pretended I was dancing on stage or at the games, cheering. Each time, I created a life in my head that I would have been having had I not been taken… Crew and I fixed up my bike. Kyler and I went on a weekend excursion. Zane and I performed our first duet together. Golden and I decorated my house and went shopping for other little things to make the house a home. Paxton and I had put up the prints he had given me, displaying them in my bedroom, along with the dozens of other photos I had fallen in love with. Lochlann had finally found a way for us to be together without him getting in trouble. We celebrated the official adoption of Maisie and Clay to Lochlann.

  The reel in my head flashed with each scene I wished had a chance to become a reality.

  “Stephen and I met Ava when she was fifteen years old,” Tormentor finally said. His voice was almost devoid of all emotion. “She used to flirt with us all the time. We tried to tell her we were too old for her, but she always went after what she wanted, and she wanted us. Eventually, we came to care for her a lot, even love her. She was wild and impetuous, but there was a soft, giving nature to her. She treated Reggie with kindness, too. Most girls ridiculed him, bullied him, but not our Ava. She began to care for him.”

  In my haze of pain, I put the pieces together. Stephen was Coach Carson, and Reggie was Principal Boyd. Then I listened once more.

  “One day, her mother found out that she was lying about her whereabouts. The nights that she was supposed to be with her friends, she was with us. She tried to have Ava followed. Ava was too smart for her. She kept evading her. Ava overheard her mother telling her father that she wanted Ava to go to a boarding school overseas. That she wanted Ava to appreciate other cultures and learn more languages before she went off to college.

  “Ava never was good in school. Her only aspirations in life were to be a wife and mother. Her mother never understood that, had actually hated her own children and barely tolerated her husband. The only reason she had David was for her to gain a husband. If she hadn’t trapped him into marriage, he would have left her. Sean was dropped off on their doorstep, and she would have disposed of him if it weren’t for the staff. David Sr. threatened to divorce her and take away the lifestyle she was accustomed to unless she helped raise him.

  “The boys weren’t wanted, and Ava, especially, wasn’t wanted. She was just another insurance policy for Evelyn’s continual stay in a life of comfort and wealth. Her mother hated her very existence, especially after she became Daddy’s little princess. He doted on her more than he had his own wife. You see, Evelyn didn’t want her husband or her children, but she didn’t want anyone else to have them either. She loved her life of luxury. She loved holding her husband’s wealth and stature over everyone.”

  Lost in his words, I mentally nodded. The more I found out about my paternal grandmother, the more I hated the woman. She raised three, very troubled, very messed up children. Her eldest son was narcissistic and cared only for himself and his image. Sean was an arrogant, alcoholic abuser. And her youngest daughter was so desperate for love that she found it in men that were obviously just as broken as she was, if not more.

  “We couldn’t let her send Ava away,” he droned on. “Ava wanted to stay, and we wanted her to stay. We came up with the plan to live here, in peace. We never even touched her until she became ours. By then, she was seventeen, and we knew she was old enough to make a decision like that.”

  After a few moments of silence, he said, “She likes you. She wants you to stay, and Ava always gets what s
he wants.”

  I stared at him in mild disbelief. I believed him. I even believed he loved her, but that didn’t excuse his behavior. Towards Claire, towards me, towards everyone here in this crazy house. She may have come willingly, but we hadn’t.

  He took another deep drag from his cigarette, then leaned forward to crush the cherry out on my arm. A broken cry escaped from my lips. My back bowed up in pain, causing the leather restraints to dig into my ankles and wrists, chaffing my skin.

  When I felt like I could breathe normally again, he shushed me. The restraints were removed, and I was cradled against his chest. After he hummed the tune Tiny Dancer by Elton John under his breath for a good-long while, he told me over and over again how happy they would make me if only I’d let them.

  I had no energy left to fight him. Instead, I laid stiff in his arms until his gentle touches started to soothe me. I closed my eyes and leaned against him. I saw him with Ava. I saw him with the girls. I knew he is capable of love. He was willing to do anything for Ava, would he do the same for me? How much more pain could I endure? Did I continue fighting him, or should I just give in?

  I was ashamed of my inner dialogue. I feared it was all too late. Because, even after that horrendous torture, I was leaning in towards his touch, my eyes closed, allowing the beat of his heart to lull me into a pain-induced sleep.

  28

  ●

  Freedom or Bust

  My body was on fire. But as soon as thought came, I was submerged in an ice bath once again. Deep wracking coughs left my lips. I coughed so hard I felt as if I’d broken a rib. Continuous tremors assaulted my body as I drifted in and out of sleep, knowing all the while that something was terribly wrong with me.

  I knew I’d been removed from the box at some point, but everything now was so hazy as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I didn’t know how long I’d been in this state, but it felt like forever.

  Gentle hands lifted me up and tried to force water down my throat. I heard male voices urging me to get better. Eventually, I woke to the feel of my clammy skin, frail limbs, and a revolting stench. It took me several moments to realize the smell was coming from me.