Bayou Baby

by Miller, Renee

  “You have nothing to say?” Henri prompted. “Do you not care at all for her? She’s your only child.”

  “You had a hand in this as well, Henri. Not only did you take her innocence, you eagerly stomped any dreams she might have had into dust just the other night.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to go that way.”

  “Oh, I know what you intended, but she rejected you and that made you angry.”

  “I tried to be gentle.”

  “No you didn’t. My point is you were eager to help me get her into this situation. Why give into regret now? She cannot be anything else.” Jolene turned from him. She didn’t have the strength to argue. He was wearing her out; her chest ached with the effort.

  “At least five men took her the first night. One after the other, they beat her and raped her in ways I’d never imagined before. Is that what she is meant to be? She is bruised and bloodied from what they did.”

  “If she resisted, I’m not surprised it was painful. She must let go of her pride.”

  “It wasn’t about pride. They humiliated her and the first one to do it was Lucien. Her own father. Is that her destiny? They had more lined up the next night, but when I came in, I paid for the entire night just to give her body time to heal. She is broken, inside and out.”

  Jolene turned her back to him, tears soaking her cheeks. No, it couldn’t be true. She couldn’t have been that blind. Rosaline would never allow such a thing. “Please go. You are regretting your actions and that is fine. I know you care for her. If you had been willing to marry her then she wouldn’t be there now.”

  “If you had just given her to me, she would be safe. I did nothing wrong. You, on the other hand, have betrayed your only child and for what? Money? I only regret I wasn’t willing to pay you as much as Rosaline.”

  “Get out,” Jolene whispered.

  “You will go straight to Hell if you stand by and do nothing.”

  “I’ve already done what I can. Rowan will survive. She is a Dumas after all. They know how to get things done.”

  “I will get her out of there.” He stomped to the door. Jolene closed her eyes and tried to draw a breath. She turned her face into the damp pillow, trying to forget him, but Henri was not finished, and his final words echoed in her mind. “When I do, she won’t ever be back here again. You will die alone, Jolene. I hope you’re happy.”

  He left, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the walls of the shack. Jolene shook with the force of her grief, but had no tears left. He was right. She would go to Hell. Still, even Hell would be far better than the life she’d endured so far.

  Jolene lay on the bed, gathering Rowan’s pillow to her face to smell her daughter’s sweet scent, when Lucien intruded again in her mind. She shivered. How could she have believed she loved that man? Worse, she believed he cared for her as well.

  If Pascal was perverse and twisted, Lucien is capable of far worse. His heart and his soul were as black as his eyes. She believed he’d gone for good, and figured she only had his father to worry about. Jolene had taken care of Pascal. She hadn’t intended to kill him, but he deserved what happened, and Lucien deserved far worse.

  She stared at the wall and the brown stains from the water that leaked through the roof, revisiting the moment she burned her bridges with Lucien. Pascal had been eyeing Rowan more each time he visited, and Jolene worried he wouldn’t be satisfied with looking for long. She had visited the old woman, Mama Gator. It was rumored the old woman killed Lucien’s family and thought she’d found a friend or at least an ally. She told Mama Gator about Rowan and her desire to protect the girl and the woman told her to give Pascal a potion.

  “Put it in his drink, he’ll be unable to force any attention on any woman.”

  What Mama Gator hadn’t told Jolene was that the potion would cause the old man’s heart to stop beating. For three nights, Jolene had put the potion in his drink. She could have investigated it more, learned what was in it, but a part of her wanted him to die, and hoped it was poison. That part knew Mama Gator didn’t mess around.

  When she learned of his passing, Jolene felt relief first, then a fear so intense she could barely function. She couldn’t focus, her mind riddled with questions. Who would keep Lucien away now? How would she keep Rowan safe? The answer came, once more, in the form of the crazy old woman who claimed to be a voodoo queen.

  Jolene didn’t like that Rowan learned the dark magic, but the old woman seemed to love Rowan like her own, and cursed any who would harm her. The bottom line was, Mama Gator managed to keep Lucien from her daughter, and Jolene didn’t care how she did it.

  Now that Mama Gator was dead, no one could help them. Lucien could get rid of Rowan any time he wished. And Jolene could do nothing to stop him. Henri’s words haunted her, but Rowan would survive. Of that, she had little doubt. She might suffer, but she would fight. Jolene knew her daughter was stronger than most.

  But what Rowan would do to get through it? Who would suffer? Jolene had seen a darkness within Rowan early on; a secret power that terrified Jolene. If the old woman had managed to teach her anything, Lucien would regret crossing her path.

  The thought brought a smile to Jolene’s tired face. How ironic the same devil that lived within him would be his undoing. All of his money could not save him from himself.

  CHAPTER 12

  Lucien rose from the bed. Rowan curled into a ball as far from him as possible. Her shame was almost greater than her hatred for him.

  “Not so brave now are you?” he taunted as he walked to the lamp that hung on the wall next to the bed.

  Her breath hitched in her chest when he struck a match to light the wick. Rowan closed her eyes and willed him away. Knowing Lucien was her father made what he did to her far worse than the actions of anyone else. He was twisted and cruel. There was nothing good in him.

  She’d lost count of how many days he’d kept her in this room. The wounds they’d inflicted that first night had healed, but new ones were added daily. She also noticed sores not caused by Lucien’s cruel imagination between her legs. They alarmed her at first, but Rowan drifted in and out of consciousness so often she decided the new sores must have been added in those rare moments she’d been able to drift away and forget what they did.

  He moved to the door. “I will send someone up with food and a bath. You can’t seem to get the stink of the swamp off you.”

  “I cannot get your stink off me.”

  He didn’t reply. She waited until the door closed behind him before she allowed the tears to fall. She was stuck, no matter what Henri did. There was nothing in this world or any other that would force Lucien to release her. Death would be the only option.

  The door opening broke off her dark thoughts, she watched as the blonde girl came in and set a tray down next to the bed.

  “So, you’re still here. I suppose Lucien never lets anything go,” Rowan mumbled.

  “Oh he let one or two girls leave. They weren’t breathing when they left, but they were free.”

  “I’m getting out of here. I hope for it to be over Lucien’s dead body when I do, but if my own death is the only option, then so be it.” Rowan wasn’t as confident as she’d been on her first day in the house.

  The girl glanced at the door and then back to Rowan. She spoke in a whisper. “I have thought about what you said. I think if we do this together, there might be a way.”

  “Please, do tell.” Rowan’s hopes rose and quickly chastised herself. It would only do her harm to allow anything to make her hope.

  “I have plenty of freedom here, much more than the other girls anyway. I’m allowed to roam the house without question and I have keys to nearly every door.”

  Rowan smiled. This girl would be useful after all. What she would do with her later Rowan didn’t know. How would she hide from Lucien while caring for another person? Could this fragile thing survive life on the run, hiding from Lucien?

  Rowan nodded. “First we need to get to know
each other a little better. I don’t even know your name.”

  “I’m Justine. It’s so nice to have a friend.”

  Rowan raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. She had no need for friends right now. It would be one more way for Lucien to get at her.

  The girl continued, whispering in a rush. “I was thinking, maybe when Rosaline and Lucien are gone or not paying attention, I could come up here and open your door.”

  “Do you think that would work? I doubt they would just allow me to walk out of here. How many other people in this house would betray us?”

  “Oh the other girls only come out when there are guests here. When there are no men, they’re locked in their rooms as well.”

  Rowan’s spine tingled as hopelessness washed over her. Was every woman here a prisoner? “Are you telling me no one is allowed out of here?”

  “Rosaline allows her favorites to go shopping and out with men. They aren’t cooped up all the time.” Justine shrugged and glanced again at the door. Her fidgeting was nerve wracking. Rowan wished she’d stop wringing her hands.

  “Favorites?”

  “There are women here who like what they do. Some are here by choice. Rosaline hires them, they sign her little contract, and they’re happily owned until they’re no longer of use.”

  “What happens when they aren’t of use?”

  Justine looked at the door again and then back to Rowan. “It doesn’t matter; we need to get out of here. I heard Rosaline and Monsieur Dumas talking yesterday. They’re going to get rid of me and I don’t think they’re going to just let me go home. He also has great plans for you, which I doubt you’ll be thrilled about.”

  “What plans?” Rowan couldn’t imagine anything worse than what they had already done. Aside from death, there was little that she hadn’t suffered at their hands.

  Justine moved toward the door. “There’s no time. He’s bringing up your bath. Will you be ready if I can do it?”

  She wasn’t sure what Justine expected her to do, but if there was a chance of escape, she’d take it. “Yes, I’ll be ready. But I should warn you not to put too much faith in me, Justine. I have caused one friend’s death already.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Once we’re out of here, I can fend for myself. I only wanted to help. I knew the moment I saw you that you were someone special. I see things sometimes, and I’ve seen you in my dreams for months now. I am meant to help you.”

  Rowan didn’t know what to say and Justine didn’t wait for an answer. She hurried out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Rowan wondered if she locked it. She didn’t hear the familiar click, maybe she was hoping Rowan would slip out now.

  Footsteps in the hallway and then a barked command to someone who dared get in his way. Rowan slumped in the bed. Lucien. When would he be satisfied that she was as miserable as she could be?

  Lucien’s footsteps stopped outside her door. She stiffened at muffled voices. He would not bring a man up here so soon, would he? Why did she even wonder? Of course, he would.

  The door opened and two men carried the tub inside. Three more followed with buckets of water.

  “You’re up. Good.” Lucien grinned and his eyes gleamed with a light Rowan knew only too well now.

  “Well my dear,” he said as the men filled the tub. “You’ve become very popular. Like your mother. Many of our clients ask for you, and Rosaline says it’s time to oblige them. I told her they may be disappointed, since lying with you is not much different than lying with a corpse, but she feels you’ll come around in time. It’s what you were made for, after all.”

  “You would know what it is to sleep with the dead, Papa.”

  The other men paused at Rowan’s words. Lucien’s lips thinned and his face flushed. They weren’t long in retreating. One of them, a younger man with skin the color of honey, like Rowan’s, looked at her with pity before leaving. She needed no one’s pity.

  “I will warn you one more time, do not call me papa. I am not your father, and I will not have anyone spreading rumors of such a disgrace.”

  “Can’t have them knowing you desire your own blood can we?” Rowan mumbled and flinched, waiting for the blow.

  He laughed as he walked to the bed. “I don’t desire you in the least, whore. I am teaching you how to please a man. If you weren’t such a slow learner, I’d never have to touch you again.”

  “I care nothing about pleasing a man. If I stay here and you force a hundred of them on me, they will all leave dissatisfied.”

  He tore the blanket from her hands and paused.

  Lucien’s gaze on her naked body made her long to cover herself. Her pride would not let her do it. Let him stare.

  He traced a bruise next to her breast, his teeth marks, before pinching the nipple.

  Rowan winced but did not move away.

  “Your mother couldn’t resist for long and neither will you.” His hand crept over her belly, touching the welts left by the whip. The newer ones stung as his rough fingers passed them. Lower he went until she clamped her knees together.

  He brought his hand up to her hair and curled his fingers into it. “You fear the desire you have inside of you. I can see it in your eyes, despite your attempts at indifference.”

  “Whatever makes you feel better, you can believe it. I don’t feel anything for you but loathing. What else can one feel for a man who would rape his own child?”

  He yanked her hair with such force Rowan couldn’t stop the yelp that escaped her lips. He forced her head back while he unbuttoned his pants with his free hand.

  “Your bath can wait. Obviously, you’re in need of a new lesson, cherie.”

  Rowan glared, receiving a smile in return.

  He let his pants drop to the floor and she prepared herself to endure his body on hers once more. But he did not get on the bed. Instead, he dragged her off and threw her to the floor.

  “Get on your knees.”

  Rowan didn’t move. I will not.

  “I said, get on your knees.” Lucien pulled her up by her hair.

  She let her body go limp. I will not do this.

  “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You get on your knees and do as I tell you, or I will send man after man in here and you will do this all night.”

  “I won’t do it. I would rip it off in a heartbeat. Is that what you want?”

  Lucien dragged her closer, so that she had no choice but to close her eyes. She didn’t want to see him, swollen and erect, able to cause such pain. “You do that and you will die a slow, painful death. You would suffer more than you could ever imagine.”

  Rowan shook her head. She couldn’t, it was worse than anything he had done. He was asking her to willingly please him and she would not do it.

  “I’m waiting,” he murmured.

  Rowan looked up. He stared, his eyes so dark and empty. What would he do if she didn’t do it? Images of the previous night flashed to awaken a burning in her chest. No, she couldn’t endure that again. He wanted her to pleasure him, she’d put on a good performance, and maybe once he thought he’d tamed her, she’d have a chance to make him pay for what he’d done to her.

  “Fine, you want me to please you like this?” Rowan leaned over and took him into her mouth, but gagged and pulled away.

  Lucien pressed her face against him. “You have five seconds to do it. Stop pretending to be so distraught, it is what you were destined for. God doesn’t give a woman lips like yours just for gossiping.”

  “No, that would be a waste,” Rowan muttered but she screamed inside, begging for someone to stop this madness. “You know Papa, you should lie down. I’d hate to see your knees give way before I’m finished.”

  Lucien slap reverberated in her ear.

  “You will not call me that again.”

  “Sorry, Lucien. I forgot. Do you wish to lie down?”

  “I’m not falling for any of your nonsense, I will stand. Now, get on with it. If you do well, you may only have one or tw
o visitors tonight. If you do poorly, you will have as many as it takes for you to get it right.”

  “I’ll get it right.” Rowan felt as though she were outside her own body, watching a character that resembled herself submit to Lucien’s demands. Her mouth opened over him and she gagged as he touched the back of her throat. She tried to go to her safe place away from the present, but she couldn’t. Rowan flicked her tongue against him and she tasted the saltiness of his skin. He groaned and tightened his grip on her hair as she moved her mouth up and down.

  Lucien’s legs trembled as Rowan’s mouth sucked and licked at him, he murmured once or twice, words that she didn’t understand. Finally, after what seemed like a ridiculous amount of time, when Rowan was worried he’d never finish, Lucien pulled her face away from him.

  “Are we done already?”

  His eyes narrowed at the hope in her voice. “Oh no. Not by a long shot, ma petite. I think your suggestion was wise.” Lucien pulled her as she stumbled on her knees to the bed.

  He sat on the edge, and tangled his fingers in her hair once more. Forcing her face back into his crotch, he leaned back and waited.

  “Please, I’ll do anything else,” she begged.

  A tear slipped down her cheek as Lucien forced himself into her mouth; she blinked the hot moisture away. Crying would only make things worse.

  Pushing his hips against her his voice came out as a growl. “You cannot pretend anymore. You’ve shown you’re adept at this particular pleasure, so don’t stop now.”

  Rowan moved her mouth over him. She didn’t understand how any woman would willingly do something so unpleasant. Now and then, she gagged when he thrust himself too far into her mouth.

  “Don’t worry about that. I’m larger than most,” he chuckled. “You’ll do fine with the rest.”

  The rest? Rowan hoped he only taunted her. She pulled away to catch her breath.