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Best of 2017 Page 164

by Alexa Riley


  I will myself to think about anything other than the brutalization but I can’t. All I can think about is Fuzz’s giant cock in my ass while my boyfriend ignores my screams.

  I start to truly black out when I hear a slam. Then a grunt. The pain seems to lessen the moment Fuzz pulls out.

  Crack! Crack! Crack!

  I manage to roll over to my side, wincing in pain. Vaughn has Fuzz by the throat as he slams his fist over and over again into the man’s face.

  “I. Said. No. Anal,” Vaughn roars, gripping Fuzz by the throat and then slamming his head into the edge of a dresser.

  Pop! Pop! Pop!

  Sickening sounds of crunching bone and puncturing flesh cause me to vomit. Bile spews all over the mattress as tears blur the scene before me. Vaughn doesn’t stop for what seems like forever.

  He lets go of Fuzz who hits the floor with a thud. When Vaughn’s eyes meet mine, they’re dilated and wild from the drugs. He winks at me before stalking out of the room. I’m shaking so badly but I manage to sit up on my side. When I glance out of the room, I’m horrified to see Vaughn prepping another syringe. I drag my gaze to the floor. Fuzz, or what’s left of him, faces the ceiling. His face is crushed in and he’s not breathing or moving.

  Vaughn killed him.

  He’s going to kill me one day soon too.

  I know that to be true with every part of my being. And without the drugs confusing me, I’m able to take action. I ease myself off the bed and stand on wobbly legs. Everything hurts, especially my ass, but I manage to drag my dress back down to cover myself. Bright red blood runs down my thigh past my knee.

  Oh, God.

  I sway at the sight of the blood but dart my eyes over to the window. With newfound urgency, I make my way over to the window and begin fiddling with the lock. I flip it open and wrench the window up. It takes some work, but I manage to get it up high enough to squeeze through. The fire escape provides me with the out I need. With each passing second, I find more clarity.

  I must get away.

  And I need to make sure he never finds me again.

  Abandoning my heels so I can run faster, I scale down the fire escape ladder as quickly as I can. When I reach the bottom, I hop down the rest of the way right into a puddle. The alley of the apartment building is empty, but at the end of one side is a busy street. I take off, sprinting toward the cars that keep passing by.

  “Hey, baby, stay awhile,” some guy smoking hollers at me.

  I ignore him and run faster right out into the middle of traffic. A car slams on its brakes. I lock eyes with a woman around my mom’s age as the front of her car bumps my hip. She has a teenage girl in the passenger side with her, who wears a similar stunned reaction.

  “Please,” I beg through my tears. “I need help.”

  She’s still gaping at me when I round the side of the car. Other vehicles swerve around her car, that’s stopped in the middle of the street, and honk. I beat on her window as terror threatens to consume me. A quick look over my shoulder tells me he isn’t after me yet.

  “Please,” I plead again, “I’ve just been raped.”

  This seems to jolt her into action. With a shaking hand, she hits the unlock button on her car. I scramble into the backseat and find myself staring at a wide-eyed toddler in a car seat.

  “Wh-Where do you want me to go?” the woman asks.

  “Anywhere away from here,” I cry out. “Just hurry.”

  She peels out and hauls off down the road. The baby in the back starts to cry. When I look at the girl in the front seat, her flesh is pale as she stares out the windshield. She grips her mother’s hand to the point her knuckles turn white.

  “Are you okay?” the woman asks, her panicked eyes meeting mine in the mirror.

  I swallow and nod. Relief floods through me as realization sets in. I’ve escaped. I’ve finally slipped from Vaughn’s death grip.

  “I am now.”

  “BABY,” a deep voice coos, dragging me from my nightmarish past. “It’s me, Gray.”

  I chance a peek and am thankful to see his concerned blue eyes darting all over me. My face is cradled in his strong hands as he regards me.

  “Talk to me, Violet,” he murmurs, worry in his tone. “You scared the shit out of me.”

  With hot tears welling in my eyes, I blurt out the memory of the night I escaped. Detail by horrifying detail. I don’t stop until I finish. The room grows silent for a few moments before I chance a look at him.

  Gray’s features are positively manic with hate and fury. He’s clenching his jaw so hard it’s a wonder it doesn’t break in two. But the way he drags his thumb across my bottom lip is gentle and reverent.

  “I’m going to obliterate his goddamned skull into a thousand pieces,” he seethes. “That is my vow to you.”

  Again with these intense proclamations—proclamations that should scare me but instead warm me to my very soul. I want him to hurt Vaughn. I want Vaughn eliminated from this earth so he doesn’t hurt other women.

  “I’m fucked up,” I tell him, my voice wobbly. “You’re the first person I ever told that story to. My therapist knows the gist and the women’s shelters I bounced around to in the beginning had an idea. But nobody knows, in detail, what happened.” I bite on my bottom lip and frown. “Maybe I should have spared you the graphic details.”

  His grip is firm on my jaw and he shakes his head. “I need to know every single detail about every single thing that ever happened to you. I want to steal those horrific memories and wear them like the burn scars on my back so you don’t have to fucking carry them around anymore. Please,” he pleads, his lips pressing to mine. “Give them all to me. Let me take them and replace them with something good. We can be good together. Don’t you feel that, Violet?”

  I nod and smile because I can feel it.

  His presence overwhelms me with safety and warmth.

  A giant security blanket.

  I’ve been shivering with the chill of my past for far too long. It’s long past time I relied on someone else to help carry that burden for me.

  He starts kissing me feverishly once again until his phone rings. A growl escapes him. “That’s Gwen’s ring tone.”

  I miss his body pressed against mine the moment he pulls away. His body is all lean defined muscles hiding beneath tattooed and scarred flesh. He’s beautiful—like God created a special masterpiece and named it Gray. But Gray is far from boring, he’s colorful and bright and charming.

  “Fuuuuck,” he hisses into the phone. “I’ll be right there.”

  “What is it?” I demand when he tosses the phone onto the bed and begins rapidly throwing clothes on.

  Sadness flashes in his eyes. “Mom. She fell. The paramedics won’t come into the house anymore so if she gets hurt or falls, Gwen or I have to help her.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “I’ll be back when I can.”

  I jolt from the bed and hurry to my dresser to hunt for some panties. “I’m coming with you.”

  He stalks over to me and hugs me from behind. His slacks are back on but he’s still bare chested. The warmth radiating from him calls to me. Sings to quiet parts deep within me.

  “Baby,” he coos against my hair. “She’s worse than Gwen. You need to stay.”

  I twist in his grip to face him. My palms find his stubbly cheeks and I shake my head at him. “Not a chance. I was being inconsiderate of your family’s illness before. But now…” I trail off and stand on my toes to kiss his lips. “I want to help. You’ve listened to me unload my past on you. This is the least I can do.”

  Emotion shines in his eyes. “Really?”

  “Really,” I assure him with a smile. “Let’s go help your mom.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  GRAYSON

  I’M STILL SEETHING with rage as we drive to Mom’s. The things that Vaughn did to her…sick. The things I’m going to do to him…sicker. From the passenger seat, Violet nervously chews on her nail. She’s similar to me in the way t
hat she is neat and orderly. Because of her past, she’s been driven to keep her life organized just so. I hate having to take her to Mom’s but she seems so willing to help.

  It fucking moves me.

  I knew Friday when I locked eyes with her that I’d sentenced us to death. After a lifetime of love of course. But she’d be mine until the end. A crooked piece inside of me seemed to straighten the moment she became the main fixture in my life.

  I’m trying desperately not to move too fast. The last thing I want to do is scare her away. But keeping my shiny little Violet on her pedestal in front of me is where she belongs. I want to cherish her forever.

  I reach over and grab her thigh through her jeans. Her palm covers the back of my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. This woman is the filling for the void that’s sat inside my chest for as long as I can remember. My life feels complete now. I’m going to work myself so far into her heart, she’ll never want me to leave.

  As we drive, I can’t help but feel disappointed about earlier when she wanted to use a condom. Doesn’t she know I want to put my seed inside of her? That I want her pregnant with my child? I’d suggest we marry tomorrow if I didn’t think she’d send me packing. Violet is like an abused puppy. It will take time to gain her trust. I want to cuddle the fuck out of her and put a collar around her throat that says she belongs to me.

  “What are you thinking about?” she questions, her thumb stroking across the back of my hand.

  How crazy you make me.

  How my heart beats only for you.

  How my brain won’t let your face leave its presence.

  How I’m going to blurt out that I love you long before the socially acceptable time because the internal raging fires that burn for you are out of fucking control.

  “How beautiful you are,” I tell her with a smile.

  She laughs. “Somehow I feel there’s more, but I’ll let it slide since you’re so sweet.”

  She has no idea just how much more…

  “We’re here,” I tell her, my smile fading as anxiety sets in as I park next to my sister’s Camaro.

  “This is a nice home,” she murmurs.

  It’s more than nice on the outside. My childhood home sits at the end of the street in an expensive neighborhood. The homes in the area sell in the millions.

  The neatly manicured lawn and fresh paint job hide the horrific secrets that lie inside. The chaos and disorder. The absolute madness. The hired lawn people on call help keep up pretenses.

  “Do you want to sit in the car?” I question.

  She’s already climbing out. “No. I can handle this. Your mom needs you.”

  I scrub my face with my palm and inhale a fortifying breath. This is going to be difficult. Last time I came by was when one of Mom’s shelves fell on her. My skin still crawls from having to pull all that shit off of her.

  I hop out of the car and stalk across the lawn to the front door. Behind me, Violet is quiet but I know she has my back. I’m embarrassed, but she’s already seen Gwen and she’s been warned.

  “Breathe through your mouth,” I mutter as I push through the unlocked door.

  One of the only few clean rooms in this house is the foyer but I can tell that will soon change. Her mess is starting to spill out of doorways into the space. Soon, there will be no hiding this from people. I cringe to think about that day when a postman or nosy neighbor spreads the news about what lies in this house.

  A scent that’s part feces and part rotting garbage immediately suffocate me. Despite breathing through my mouth, I can’t help but choke on the disgusting smell. Violet doesn’t let on her disgust because she’s quiet.

  “Gwen?” I call out.

  “In the basement,” she hollers back from within the house.

  “Fuck,” I hiss under my breath. “The basement is the worst.”

  I stalk down the hallway until I reach the dining room that leads to the kitchen where the basement door is. As soon as the dining room comes into view, I shudder. There is a small walking path but garbage and shopping bags and boxes are stacked waist high. You can’t see the dining room table—the same table my father made me eat Wail at. The entire room is a sea of junk and trash.

  “This way,” I utter, grabbing Violet’s hand. I guide her behind me so she doesn’t fall.

  “Oh,” she chokes out upon reaching the kitchen. More of the same in here. Trash and a pile of stinking dishes are bulging from the sink. There is a small walkway to the refrigerator and one more to the basement door that’s been wrenched open. I grab the handle and pull it open more so I can squeeze through. Light illuminates the stairwell but there is so much crap piled up on the stairs that it’s no wonder she fell. At the bottom of the stairwell, Gwen sits in a pile of garbage with Mom’s head in her lap.

  “Mom,” I call out. “You okay?”

  She waves a hand at me dismissively. “Of course, sweetheart. Just being clumsy again. I told your sister not to call you and that when I catch my breath I’ll get back up.”

  “Nonsense,” I grumble. “I’ll carry you out of there.”

  “Do you need help?” Violet questions, her breath merely a whisper.

  I look over my shoulder and shake my head. “Just hold the door open when I make it back up here.” Once she nods in confirmation, I squeeze through the door and begin my descent.

  “Shield her from anything that falls,” I instruct Gwen.

  My sister scrambles into a standing position and moves in front of our mother. “Okay. Ready.”

  I’m larger than both of them so when I begin climbing down, boxes and bags and garbage start crashing down to the bottom. I nearly knock over a stack of magazines but right the wiggling tower before it topples over.

  The smell gets worse the farther down I go. Stinks of raw sewage. Fuck. I don’t know what to do when it comes to Mom and Gwen. Once, I tried to get people out here to clean up and they were both so distraught, I pulled the plug immediately. But the thought of Mom getting sick from leaky pipes creating mold or something worries me.

  When I reach the bottom, Gwen hugs me tight. “Thanks for coming, big brother.”

  I kiss the top of her head and grunt. “You just use me for my muscles,” I tease.

  Mom laughs. “Oh stop, you two. How’s work been, honey?”

  “Good,” I tell her as I slide my arms beneath my mom’s slight frame. “Just closed on a property recently. I’m going to go out of town to see it for a few days.”

  “How wonderful,” she says beaming at me. “You look so handsome. Just like your father.” Her smile fades and her eyes grow distant. “How is he, anyway?”

  I’m not going down that rabbit hole.

  Not now. Not ever.

  “He’s fine. He told me to tell you hello,” I lie.

  Her blue eyes flicker with light. “Oh, how I miss him. Tell him I’ll come visit him for lunch in the city next week.”

  I nod and smile back at her. We both lie to each other. She’s never leaving this house except on a gurney. He never asks about her.

  I trip over something and crash toward the wall. My shoulder hits the drywall, but it’s better than her head. With more exertion and grunting, I manage to climb the mountain of trash until I reach the top. The door gets wrenched open, and I step into the narrow pathway.

  “You need to lie down. Where are you sleeping these days?” I question. The bedroom upstairs has long been filled and abandoned.

  “Laundry room beside the front bathroom,” she tells me.

  I wince. “Laundry room it is.” I twist my body to face Violet. “Mom, this is Violet. My girlfriend.”

  “Oh…” Mom chokes out, embarrassment causing her to tense up. “Oh…”

  “Violet?” Gwen squeaks out in surprise when she emerges from the basement stairwell. “What are you doing here?” The terror in her voice makes my heart rate quicken.

  “We were together when you called,” I tell Gwen gently. “She wanted to help.”

 
Gwen’s features harden and she shoves past me disappearing out of the kitchen. I shoot Violet an apologetic look.

  “Excuse my manners,” Mom says to Violet. “And Gwen’s. We’re just not used to visitors. Had I known you were coming, I’d have straightened up a bit.”

  “Violet doesn’t care about a little clutter,” I assure Mom. “Do you, baby?”

  Violet shakes her head. “Nope. Your home is lovely. Were those begonias I saw by the front porch?”

  Mom nods and beams at her. “Enrique planted those. I’m quite fond of them.”

  “They’re beautiful,” Violet murmurs.

  I flash her a look of gratitude before wading my way through the hoard of junk toward the laundry room. Once inside, I’m irritated to find that my mom folded up a bunch of blankets to make a makeshift bed on top of the side-by-side washer and dryer. Even the laundry room is filled with junk. I’ve long gotten over the fact that Mom doesn’t wash laundry or dishes or anything. I pay the city to take the trash two times a week but my gut tells me Mom never has anything to put out at the curb.

  Violet pushes past me into the laundry room and smoothes out the blankets and situates the pillows. I set Mom down on her bed and Violet proceeds to cover her up. Mom, no longer embarrassed, stares at Violet as if she’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

  I glance over at my woman.

  She’s sure as fuck the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

  “I’m going to go check on Gwen. Can you stay and make sure she’s okay?” I ask Violet.

  When she smiles and nods, I lean forward and kiss her forehead. “Thank you, baby.”

  I can hear Mom chattering to her as I exit the laundry room. The mere idea of climbing the stairs has me shuddering, but I know Gwen is upstairs in my old room. It’s the only place in the house they won’t fill up with junk for some reason. Whenever I tell Mom she should sleep in there, she just shakes me off and says she’s saving the room in case I ever need to come back.

  It takes several minutes and a couple of dry heaving moments until I pass by one of the bathrooms but I eventually make it to my bedroom. Once I push inside, I take a deep breath. Everything is just as I left it. Dad, that asshole, had been right. I needed to get away. I’d let Mom nurse me back to health after my extensive burns, but the moment I was healed, I left.

 

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