Darkest Sin

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Darkest Sin Page 51

by Ashton Blackthorne


  She remained silent. As I moved, her head lolled to one side. Her eyes remained glassy and unseeing. As disconcerting as the screaming was, this near comatose state was even more disturbing. Scooping her into my arms, I carried her upstairs to my bedroom. Lying her on the bed, I quickly located some first aid supplies.

  After cleaning her wounds, I removed her clothes. Normally, that would have been an arousing experience for us both, but she just lay limp like a rag doll. I crawled into the bed with her. “Amber, please tell me what’s wrong. I can’t help you if you don’t talk.” I pressed my lips to her cheek.

  Her eyes finally moved and she looked at me. “Oh, Ash, don’t you know?”

  Yes, I did. I just had to know for sure.

  “Mark. Oh God, Mark.”

  “I know, baby.” I held her as close as I could.

  She rolled over in the bed and faced me.

  “When did it start?”

  “The earliest I can recall was when I was seven.” Her voice was flat and monotone. “Melissa showed me. I was sitting in my bed late at night. I used to….” She broke off and put her arms over her head. “I used to pull all my covers over my head at night. I used to think if he couldn’t find me he wouldn’t hurt me.”

  I felt sick. Amber had suffered so much. “What happened exactly, Amber?”

  She sighed still clutching the covers tightly. “He would come into my room at night after everyone was asleep. His fingers-----” She choked up.

  I stroked her cheek softly.

  “All sticky from the Cheetos he constantly ate. He would put his fingers to my lips and tell me to be quiet. I can still taste those Cheetos on his fingers to this day. Maybe that’s why I never liked them.” She closed her eyes.

  I laid there in silence. I didn’t know what to say.

  “He said it was our special secret.” She bit her lip watching my face. “It went on and on. Melissa helped me remember it all. I almost wished she hadn’t. Now I have to live with the knowledge my brother assaulted me.” She grimaced.

  “I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t know what to say. I could kill that motherfucker.” Rage began to boil inside me.

  “It wouldn’t do any good, Ash. It would only hurt us even more. Now it all makes sense. Mark’s revelation at my dad’s house last year-he had just been waiting to assault me..”

  “If he’d been hurting you, why would he have waited to….” I couldn’t bring myself to say it, “physically assault you?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure. Maybe it was just all part of his sick fantasy.”

  I swallowed hard trying to think of the right thing to say. “But Amber, you’re not a victim. You’re a survivor! Everything that’s happened to you has made you the strong woman that I love. You’ve been honest with yourself and that’s made you be honest with me. I couldn’t love you any more than I do at this moment. Veronica failed me because she couldn’t be honest with herself much less me. But you can. I believe in you, Amber. You can stand up for yourself. Turn this into something positive.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “You know, Ash, you’re right. I can’t let my brother win. He tried to control me my entire life. Hatred for Larry made me turn my back on my own father for 20 years. Little did I know it was my brother who tore me away from my family. I’m not going to let him steal one more second of my life!”

  She was so beautiful, so strong I couldn’t have admired her more than at that moment.

  “I’m going to find a way to make this a positive for me, Ash. So many women have been victimized in so many ways. It’s time for them and for me to stop feeling like a victim. I’m not a victim. I’m a survivor.”

  I hugged her to me. I was so lucky that she was finally mine.

  Sixty One

  Ayden

  Heading down the highway towards Ash’s house in the Hamptons, I was forced to admit to myself I was nervous about meeting him alone out here. I wasn’t quite sure he’d forgiven me for the terrible things I’d done.

  And let’s face it, I wouldn’t have forgiven me either.

  Opening the sunroof, I allowed the warm September sun to stream in. My hair whipped around my eyes as I smelled the briny scent of the ocean. I was getting closer to the shore.

  Finally, I pulled down the long private driveway to a huge house surrounded by trees. Black iron gates precluded any unwanted intruders from entering his property. Two letters ‘AB’ were set in script atop the iron gates.

  A push button key pad set next to the gates.

  “Who are you here to see?” An electronic voice boomed over the speaker.

  “Ash.”

  “Please enter your four digit code.”

  Punching in the numbers Ash had provided me, I waited as the iron gates squeaked to life parting slowly.

  I whistled to myself as I drove past the perfectly manicured lawn and shrubs. Ash really had it made. I wondered what it must’ve been like for him to grow up amid such opulence.

  Something I’d never had.

  Even though the same blood coursed through our veins, I never felt more distant from him. It was glaringly obvious we’d grown up in two very different worlds.

  I pulled my car up next to his shiny black Aston Martin. A car befitting of a man like him. Sleek, shiny, and elite.

  My Mercedes seemed cheap in comparison.

  Like everything else about me. I sagged against my seat for a moment taking the time to arrange my windswept hair. Normally, I could’ve cared less what I looked like unless I was meeting a woman, but something about Ash always made me feel a bit…

  Insecure.

  I swallowed that word like bitter gall. As much as I wanted to get to know Ash, part of me loathed how he made me feel about myself. I’d gone to the University of Chicago and held a degree in business like he did, but compared to Harvard Business School….

  “Are you Ayden?” A petite older woman wearing a blue maid’s uniform waved at me.

  “Yes, I am.”

  God, he had servants too! Gazing around, why would I have expected any less? This house must’ve been at least 10,000 square feet or more.

  “Please come in. Mr. Blackthorne instructed me to give you a drink and have you set in the front salon. He’s on a call at the moment.” The kindly older woman showed me into the home.

  Walking in, I was immediately surrounded in an insane amount of decadent décor. The floors were of the finest polished hardwood. My shoes squeaked as I walked across it. The spiraling staircase in the center of the foyer seemed to go on forever. I glanced up to see an immense crystal chandelier above my head.

  Wow.

  She opened the pocket doors to a huge room with an enormous stone fireplace. There was one solid wall of nothing but bookshelves littered with different leather bound books. A desk sat in the center of the room along with two deep red leather couches.

  I sank into one as she handed me a glass of what I could only assume was Macallan.

  “He’ll be right with you.” She smiled patting her gray hair.

  I nodded.

  Before leaving, she turned back to me. “I must say, Ayden, you are as handsome as your brother.” Her cheeks flushed red as she hurried out.

  I laughed to myself. I’m sure that wouldn’t be the last time I’d hear that. I walked over to the bookshelves and studied some of the titles.

  The 120 Days of Sodom. A curious title for him to have. I guess my brother was just as kinky as I was. Ash certainly loved to read, as there were tons of books. Turning my back to them, I looked over his desk.

  The wood seemed quite old, antique even. It was an exquisite piece of furniture, but somewhat unlike Ash who seemed a bit more modern in his tastes.

  Running my fingers over the top of it, I stopped to stare at the photo on the desk. It was a picture of Ash as a young boy maybe around twelve or so with an older very good looking man who I could only assume was his father.

  Our father.

  This had been his desk! I sat down in the le
ather executive chair. I brushed my fingers over the photograph. The resemblances between the three of us were strong. I could tell we both got our father’s penetrating hazel eyes and his dark brown hair. We were all three very tall and broad shouldered although I was more muscular than the both of them.

  I felt a familiar longing within me. It was as though the veins in my arms throbbed with need. I touched one of my old track mark scars.

  God, I wanted a fix so fucking bad.

  The doors parted as Ash walked in. “Ayden, I see you’ve made yourself at home.”

  Immediately, I stood up almost ashamed he’d caught me in an emotional moment. “Hi, Ash. Yeah, it’s a pretty nice place you’ve got here.” I laughed slightly.

  He shrugged sipping his glass of Macallan. “It’ll do, I suppose.” He finished his glass and sat it down. He gestured for us to have a seat. “Look, Ayden, you probably wonder why I’d invite you out here.”

  The thought had crossed my mind. “Of course.”

  “It’s not because I’ve had some deep religious experience and decided to forgive you. It’s not that at all. I can never forgive you for what you did to Amber. You fucking terrorized her, Ayden.” His jaw clenched tightly as he glared at me.

  “I know I did. And I’ve apologized repeatedly. There’s nothing I can do to take back what I did. But I am sorry. I was in a very bad place then. I’m not making excuses. I just wanted a chance to explain myself to you both.”

  He nodded stiffly. “That’s why I asked you here, Ayden. Amber wants nothing to do with you. However, she knows I have a lot of unanswered questions about you and our parents. I want to give you a chance to explain yourself.”

  I slapped my hands together and nodded. I flexed my muscles in my arms as I leaned forward. “Thank you, Ash.”

  He leaned back crossing his ankle over his knee. “So, tell me, Ayden, what you want. What was life like with…our mother?”

  I sighed deeply. “All I ever wanted was a normal life. When I first found out who you were and who my father was, I wanted to meet you both. It had nothing to do with the money. Although the thought of not having to just scrape by in life was appealing.”

  “I admit growing up wealthy gave me an advantage most people don’t have. I can’t pretend I understand your struggles, but I can respect them.” His voice was so smooth like a radio announcer’s.

  As I launched into my story, I felt myself falling back through time.

  1999

  I heard the front door swing open. Several footsteps then a loud crash as someone fell to the floor.

  The fucking bitch was drunk again.

  I rolled over in my bed and tried to pull the covers over my head.

  “Ayden! Ayden!” Her drunken voice shattered all my hopes of a good night’s sleep. This was it. I’d had it! This was the fourth night this week she’d come home in the middle of the night. Chances were good that she had some loser with her. Flipping my light on, I grabbed a pair of jeans off the floor and my jacket.

  I threw open my bedroom door and stomped down the hall.

  There she was on the floor with some bald, overweight loser passed out on the floor next to her. She was struggling to stand up. “Ayden, please help me.” She kept trying to stand, but falling back onto the floor.

  I shook my head with disgust. I grabbed a pair of shoes and stuffed my feet into them.

  “Ayden, help me. Where ya goin?” She reached out to me. Her fingernails were broken and the skin on her arms was dark red.

  I reached out to her.

  She tried gripping my hand, but fell back again. “Ayden!” She cried her voice fading. She was going to pass out again.

  I reached into her coat pocket looking for cash. I was nearly stabbed in the hand with a used syringe. I tossed it aside as I pulled out a wad of bills.

  She must’ve been out turning tricks again, given the amount of cash she had on her. I was surprised she hadn’t spent it all on dope. Leaving her sprawled on the floor with her drunken companion for the evening, I turned to leave.

  “Ayden, don’t leave! You’re my baby boy,” she cried tears further smearing her mascara. She reminded me of a broken doll.

  “I’m out of here. I’m no one’s fucking baby!” I stormed out of the house slamming the door.

  Walking out into the chilly night air, I wrapped my jacket around myself tightly. I had no idea where I was going, but I had to get away from her. This was the fourth night in a row she’d done gotten drunk, high, and brought some loser home with her. I couldn’t take it anymore.

  I was only fourteen years old and I had never been out at night alone like this on the street. I was walking alongside the main drag when I spotted a girl I thought I knew from school. She was standing in the doorway of a dilapidated house.

  “Hey!” I waved my arms over my head at her.

  She motioned for me to cross the street.

  Upon seeing her up close, I realized I didn’t know her.

  “So, who are you? Do I know you?”

  The girl was absolutely gorgeous. She eyed me up and down. She was a petite brunette with full, firm tits poking out from beneath her tight tank top. She slipped a cigarette in her mouth.

  “Need a light?” I pulled my lighter from my jeans pocket.

  “Sure, handsome.” She winked at me.

  I leaned forward flicking the lighter on.

  “Thanks. I haven’t seen you around here. Where you from?” She took a long drag on her cigarette. Her lips were full and sensual.

  Leaning back against the brick wall, I kept my gaze on her.

  “Nowhere.”

  “Bullshit, everyone’s from somewhere.” She handed the cigarette to me.

  I took it a long drag. I coughed a bit. I hated regular cigarettes.

  Flicking the ash on the ground, I looked around the burned out house. The ceiling was caved in on one side. The furniture was soaked from recent rains and smelled heavily of mildew.

  “So you don’t like to party much, huh?” She laughed as I coughed. I handed the cigarette back. Her fingernails were long and painted blood red.

  “I do some.”

  She rolled her eyes. “So, babe, what are you doing here? This place is a notorious junkie hangout. Why the fuck did you come then if you didn’t want to get high?” She tossed her butt on the floor crushing it with her high heeled boot.

  I shrugged tossing my hair off of my face. “Who says I don’t like to have a good time? What do you have?” I stepped towards her towering over her. Even at the young age of fourteen, I stood near six feet tall. I looked much older than my actual age.

  She smiled. I stared at her nipples hardening beneath her top. She was petite, but curvy with a tight round ass filling out the back of her jeans. Looking through her pockets, she pulled out several small rolled up plastic bags.“Some of the best shit around. I get it from Southie Sam.”

  I nodded. I had absolutely no idea who Southie Sam was nor did I care. I just wanted to get high. I reached out to grab it from her.

  Quickly, she slapped my hand away. “Hey, I don’t even know your name.”

  “It’s Ayden. What’s yours?”

  “Skylar.”

  I nodded anxious to get my hands on one of those bags. It would serve my fucking mother right if I became a junkie just like her.

  “I wasn’t going to just give it to you, Ayden. You got any money?”

  I tossed two twenty dollar bills at her.

  “That’ll do.” Skylar handed two bags to me.

  Eagerly, I took the bags and raced over to the kitchen counter. It was covered in filth. Taking my sleeve, I wiped an area clean and proceeded to dump the contents out. Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed another bill.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Skylar looked perplexed.

  “I’m going to do a line. What do you think I’m doing?”

  Her tits jiggled as she laughed. “Dummy, it’s not coke. It’s smack. Don’t you know the difference?”

>   I shrugged pretending I did. I’d only ever done cocaine I’d never tried anything else. “You can still snort it.”

  “Yeah, but this is so much better!” She reached into a dingy red bag and pulled out a spoon, rubber tube, and syringe.

  “Oh, fuck no, I’m not shooting up.” I held my hands up. I’d do lines of coke left and right, but shooting up that was a whole other game.

  “Don’t be a pussy, Ayden. Besides, you’re hot. I’d like to get to know you better.” She placed the items in front of me. Skylar pulled her top off revealing her tits.

  My mouth watered. I was still a virgin.

  But hopefully Skylar would change that.

  Besides, how bad could smack be?

  “Do it up,” I commanded. With ease, she sat up fixing up the syringe. She slipped the tube around my arm tapping for my vein. When she found one, she plunged the needle into my arm. Immediately, as she pushed down on the plunger I felt myself in orbit. I fell back on the hardwood floor gazing up at the ceiling. I couldn’t move. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. The feeling was indescribable. All the pain I’d been feeling seemed to melt away. Skylar knelt beside me as she pushed off right next to me. She curled up beside me as I closed my eyes savoring the delicious feeling.

  This was better than pot.

  Better than cocaine.

  Better than anything I’d ever felt.

  And I never wanted it to end.

  Ash stared at me as I spoke. I could tell he wasn’t moved by this brief tale. I sighed. I knew that would all change when I told him everything that had happened to me.

  A year passed, every morning I’d stop by the liquor store on my way to school and grab a pint of vodka or gin whichever was cheaper. By the time I’d walked the three blocks to school, the bottle would be empty. Then, at lunch, my friends and I would sneak off campus and spend the day getting high and playing with girls.

  I managed to stay away from needles since that night. Smack had given me the most intense high I’d ever had, but I’d watched my mom get too fucked up on it. I didn’t really want to become like her. I told myself just that one time didn’t count. I stuck to snorting coke and smoking weed.

 

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