by Nikki Ashton
As she struggled to get free, the figure moved towards her. Kerry backed up the bed, pressing herself against the headboard. Desperately, she tried to think about what to do, whether she could use something as a weapon, but her mind was blank.
The figure suddenly sat down heavily on the side of the bed, not saying anything. Kerry, desperate to focus through the pitch black, opened and closed her eyes, trying to banish the sleep away so that she could see, but it was too dark. Breathing heavily, she was conscious that the buttons on her pyjama top had become unfastened, revealing her heaving breasts. She didn’t want to make any sudden movements, but was petrified at how exposed she was. Moving her hands slowly to them, Kerry began to fasten the buttons. As she got to the second one, the figure’s own hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, holding it so tight that it started to burn.
“Please, please don’t hurt me,” Kerry whispered barely audible, her voice trapped, deep down, inside her chest.
The man eased his grip and moved her hand to his mouth. Kissing the palm gently, and then taking it, he held it, against his face, placing his own calloused hand on top.
Kerry gasped, as soon as she felt the deep scar underneath her clammy fingers.
“Owen!”
He reached over, and turned on the bedside lamp, the light shining on his cruel smile and dark sullen eyes. “Hello Kerry, long time no see, have you missed me?”
Kerry’s mind raced as she wondered what to do or say to him. What was he doing here, surely his parents would be wondering where he was, they would come looking for him? She was sure of it. Owen must have read her mind, because he started to laugh.
“I’m sorry, but I know what you are thinking, and the answer is that they’ve gone out for the evening. I paid for a night at the pictures, followed by a meal in a nice fancy restaurant, so they won’t be back for a while.” He grinned sadistically. “It’s just my way of apologising for being such a bad son.”
Kerry quickly glanced over at the clock; it was nine thirty, she had only been asleep about an hour. Owen was right; the Llewellyns wouldn’t be back for hours yet.
“Anyway,” he sighed, interrupting her thoughts, “it gives us plenty of time to have some fun, and to finish what we started a few days ago. What do you say?”
He leaned over and touched Kerry’s partially exposed breast with his forefinger. His hot alcohol fumed breath on her face. She had to think fast and try to delay the inevitable. Kerry knew that this horrible man could not defile her without she put up a fight.
“Okay Owen,” she whispered. “We could have a good time, but how about we have a drink first, you know to get relaxed a little. There must be something back at the house.”
His laugh was hollow and his smile sneering. “You really are a silly bitch aren’t you? Did you honestly think that I would fall for that one? Just because my mam was stupid enough to get knocked up by some scabby gypo, don’t think I’m as daft.” Owen’s sneering smile had now turned into a grimace.
“No-no, I don’t Owen, honestly. I like you, you know I do. I'm just frightened that’s all. You don’t want me to be frightened, do you?” Kerry asked desperation echoing through her tone.
Owen put his head on one side, as though thinking about what she had just said.
“Actually you know; I think I do.”
He moved backward along the bed, and Kerry could no longer smell his rancid breath. He shook his curls, back from his shoulders, and looked up at the ceiling.
“If I didn’t want to frighten you, then why would I break into your caravan at night? You women are all the same, stupid prick teasers. You lead men on and then when you decide that they are not quite what you are looking for, you cast them aside without a care.” He moved closer again now, placing a hand on Kerry’s shin. “Well Mrs Johnson,” he sneered. “You are going to get what you deserve, just like Abby did. That’s how I got this scar by the way.” He stared at Kerry, his eyes menacing, and his face blank, devoid of any emotion.
Kerry desperate to try to remain strong and calm, took deep breaths to suck the tears back in. Unfortunately, the way her chest moved up and down, straining against her pyjama top, seemed to excite him, and his face turned into a manic grin.
“Please Owen, please don’t hurt me,” cried Kerry, no longer able to stay strong. Deep sobs wracked her body as he leaned forward, grabbing her wrists in one hand and fumbling with her pyjama bottoms with the other.
“Don’t cry Kerry, we are going to have a really good time.”
After feverishly ripping each other’s clothes off Charlotte and Niall had taken a long steamy shower, exploring each other. They touched, caressed and kissed each other until it was almost the point of no return. They held back, so that they could appreciate and prolong every moment; an understanding that the first time needed to be special and savoured. It had to last in their memories forever. Niall finally led Charlotte by the hand to the bedroom, where he slowly towelled her dry, the thick, soft cotton lingering on her inner thighs and pert breasts. He moved around her, carefully wiping away the droplets of water from her skin, kissing her shoulders, her neck and her wrists as he did so.
All the time Charlotte marvelled at his body, and his obvious excitement. The day that she had dropped the papers off at his cottage had certainly given her a taster of what lay beneath his well-tailored clothes, but she did not expect something as wonderful as this.
His lean thighs curved up to a strong, tight bottom. His toned stomach was hard and muscular, his shoulders broad and angular. She trailed her finger along the line of hair leading up to his stomach, energized by the feeling of him writhing at her touch.
Charlotte let Niall lead her to the bed, where she perched upon the edge as he straddled her from behind, his thighs pushing against hers. She could feel his erection in the small of her back as he began to caress the inside of her legs with his hands, his fingers moving in gentle circles, edging further up to her thighs. Charlotte felt her excitement build as she thrust her groin towards his fingers, yearning for them to touch her clitoris, knowing that if they did she would explode. Niall, sensing this, and not wanting Charlotte to climax too soon, moved his fingers away and began to place butterfly kisses along her shoulders and down her spine, until she could stand it no longer.
Charlotte stood up and turned around to face Niall, her nipples hard with excitement and anticipation; she throbbed with desire for him. Niall moved back along the bed, as Charlotte gently lowered herself on top of him, and despite her need to make love to him, she now made him wait as she moved across his chest, alternating between gentle bites and flicks of her tongue, her groin and breasts rubbing against him and her hands holding his wrists on the soft mattress. Niall groaned as she made her way further along his body, until eventually she stopped and dropped small kisses at the top of his thighs.
No longer able to contain himself Niall reached down and tenderly took her face in his hand. He brought it back to his, and kissed Charlotte passionately, before gently rolling her over. Their fingers interlocked, creating a bond than no one could break, both letting out a gasp of pleasure as soon as he was inside her. They moved together, rhythmically and choreographed; two parts of the same machine, oblivious to everything apart from each other.
Charlotte manoeuvred on top of Niall, thrusting slowly as he held her buttocks firmly, both groaning with the joy that they were feeling, then Niall was on top of her, all the time their thrusts gradually deepening with Charlotte’s fingers digging deeper into is back, until they both exploded into a crescendo of delight as they called out each other’s names. Happy and sated Niall collapsed back onto the bed.
“Bloody hell, don’t yer just know how to look after yer man. That was the most fantastic thing that I have ever experienced,” he sighed.
Charlotte panting heavily, leaned with one elbow to look at him, running a long finger nail down his chest. “I know, I can’t believe that we nearly missed out on it, can you?” she asked, dropping a kiss onto hi
s lips.
He gently stroked her breast with his hand, and reaching up, pulled her towards him and kissed her tenderly. “I love you,” he whispered.
Charlotte’s eyes misted over as she suddenly remembered that this was to be their one and only night together. “I love you too, don’t ever forget that will you?” She held her palm on the side of Niall’s face, and kissed his nose. “I wouldn’t mind giving it another go.” she giggled. “Only, I’m not sure whether we got it quite right the first time, what do you think?”
Niall laughed throatily, as he rolled Charlotte on to her back. “I think that you could be right,” he whispered, smothering her mouth with his own.
As Owen ripped at her pyjamas, Kerry tried to scream, but nothing came out.
“Please Owen, please don’t hurt me,” she cried, scratching at his hands with her nails.
“Oh shut up you stupid bitch, you deserve what is coming to you. I ain’t gonna stop, so you may as well try to enjoy it,” he snarled, moving his hand up her body.
Kerry knew that she couldn’t fight him; he was too strong. She closed her eyes, desperate to make him disappear.
“Don’t hurt me please, oh God, help me,” she continued to sob, as she felt his hand now move inside her pyjama top.
Then suddenly she heard the slam of a car door outside. Owen heard it too. He stopped momentarily, bending his head to listen. When there was no further sound, he removed his hand from her now bare breast and placed it firmly over Kerry’s mouth.
“Keep quiet until whoever it is goes away. One sound and I’ll kill both of you.” His grip tightened around Kerry's wrist, as his face twisted in front of her.
The car didn’t drive away, and he sat there, for what seemed liked hours, with one hand pushing down on Kerry’s mouth, while the other gripped her wrists. After a few minutes of stillness, there was a loud banging at the caravan door. Kerry’s eyes widened, as if willing the visitor to burst in, but she made no sound. Owen’s angry face showing he meant every word about killing them both. As she lay there, petrified, she was sure she heard someone call her name, but nothing happened.
“Ssh,” Owen whispered, “or you know what’ll happen to you, and the brat.”
Very slowly he moved his hand away from Kerry’s mouth, putting a finger to his own, indicating for her to remain silent. He stood up, and started to back out of the room, a finger still to his lips. As he reached behind him for the door handle, Kerry noticed it move downwards. Her face must have shown her surprise, because Owen suddenly turned around and grabbed at the moving handle; however, it was too late.
Kelvin burst in and came face to face with him. Before anyone could say anything, Kerry screamed out.
“Kelvin, stop him!”
Kelvin quickly noted the terror in Kerry’s eyes, her torn top, and the tears running down her cheeks, and barred Owen’s escape route.
“She’s a liar,” Owen screamed, desperately trying to push past Kelvin.
“Kelvin, please don’t listen to him,” shouted Kerry, pulling her top across her chest.
Kelvin took no chances, and lifting the torch, which he’d been using outside, bashed Owen across the head with it. Owen clutched the side of his head, as swaying slightly, he stumbled into Kelvin.
“You bastard,” he cried.
He tried to throw a punch at Kelvin, but it only served to put him more off balance. Kelvin took the opportunity, and hit him again. This time he went down like a felled tree, landing in a crumpled heap on the floor.
Kerry quivered on the bed, pushed against the wall, as far as she could go. Gripping her top together with one hand, she wiped away tears with her other, sobs echoing through the room. As she wiped her face with her palm, a small, weak smile escaped, as she looked up at Kelvin.
“Oh Kelvin, I thought that he was going to rape and kill me,” she whispered tearfully.
Kelvin scrambled across the bed to be beside his wife, and held her tightly in his arms, never ever wanting to let her go again.
“Ssh, ssh, you’re safe now. He can’t hurt you anymore,” he cooed, as he held Kerry’s head against his chest.
As he held Kerry tightly to him, he looked down at Owen again, checking he hadn’t come around. He breathed deeply as he realised what had been about to happen, it didn’t bear thinking about. Thank God he’d decided to act masterful, and barge in, in order to demand that Kerry come home.
Kerry lifted her head away and smiled up at him. “How did you find me? I was coming home," she explained.
“Your mum suddenly realised where you might be, it was what you said in your letter to Charlotte. About it being exciting, and being like a kid again. She remembered how excited you got when you used to come and stay here. God, I’m so glad I found you, don’t ever leave me again. I've been shattered without you,” he whispered, holding her close once more.
“What about your girlfriend, is it all off with her?” Kerry didn’t want to ask, but she knew she must.
Kelvin laughed gently, and kissed her. “There never was anyone, but I’ll tell you all about that when we get home. I’d better ring the police before he wakes up.”
He fished inside his coat pocket, and taking out his mobile phone, dialled 999. Within minutes their headlights were flashing across the yard, and Owen still hadn’t stirred.
Kerry, now in her dressing gown, gave a statement to a WPC as a groggy Owen was dragged away behind her. Throughout it all, Kelvin sat holding her hand, gazing at her, thankful to be by her side once more.
Later, as Kelvin was giving his statement, there was a timid knock at the caravan door; it was Mr Llewellyn.
“Sorry, I know that I’m probably the last person that you want to see, but can I come in?” he asked, timidly.
Kelvin opened his mouth to protest, but Kerry nodded.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am for Owen’s behaviour. His mam is absolutely heartbroken over there.” Mr Llewellyn hung his head as he finished speaking.
Kerry placed a comforting hand on his arm. “It’s not your fault Mr Llewellyn, its Owen, who is to blame he was the one who did it.”
“Yes, but we should have known. He's our son, and he’s always been trouble. I asked my wife to tell you what he was like, instead of giving you half-baked warnings. I told her, he’s set his cap at that young girl and won’t be happy until he has her. When you told him where to go, I dreaded how he would react. I nearly came around here, and begged you to leave, but then he went away.”
Kelvin stood up from his seat, next to the WPC. “So if you knew what he was capable of why didn’t you tell her, instead of letting this happen? Kerry could have been raped tonight, or worse, and our baby was in the next room.” Kelvin’s eyes shone with anger that the whole nightmare could have been avoided, if only the Llewellyn’s had been more honest.
“There’s nothing that you can say Mr Johnson that won’t make me feel any worse than I already do. He was lucky to escape prison last time.”
“LAST TIME!” This time Kelvin flew at the older man, but Kerry and the WPC pulled him back.
“Mr Johnson, sit down, or I’m going to have to ask you to go in another room. Maybe you should go too Mr Llewellyn. This isn't helping anything.” The WPC spoke softly now, nodding toward the door.
“No,” said Kerry, “its okay, let him explain.” Kerry shot a warning glance at Kelvin, begging him to keep quiet.
Mr Llewellyn smiled gently at Kerry as he continued. “He had a girlfriend, Abby,” Mr Llewellyn whispered. “We thought that he had settled down. She was a nice girl, good for him, but then he went back to his old ways. Going out, drinking and gambling until all hours; so she ended it all. Well, he went mad see. He just flipped and attacked her on the night that she was moving all her things from the house. He knocked Abby about, made a real mess of her face he did; of course, she was too scared to go to the police. He threatened to get her arrested as well for cutting him with a bread knife when she was trying to protect herself. Apparently, h
e said that if he did go to prison, when he came out he would find her and do her properly next time.” Mr Llewellyn rubbed his aching temples with gnarled fingers. “She got her own back mind, she told all his mates what he’d done and put photographs of her injuries on all the lamp-posts. So, he was run out of town and scared witless enough to come running back here, turning up like a bad penny.” The old man paused, looking in turn at Kerry and Kelvin. “Look, I know that we should have done more to stop this, but the missus wanted to give him another chance, let him put his life back together. You must understand why she would do that, being a mother yourself?”
Kerry nodded. “I do, to a certain extent, but you should have told me when you could see it happening all over again.”
Mr Llewellyn’s head was bowed. “I know. I should have stood up to her, but then I only ever want to make her happy. A thank you; I suppose for agreeing to marry me.”
“But she’s not happy now though is she?” whispered Kelvin, turning his head away from the man sat opposite.
As Mr Llewellyn shook his head, large tears dropped from the end of his nose. “I’d best get back to her, check she’s okay.” He stood up to leave, and pushed a brown envelope across the table to Kerry. “For you, it’s the least we can do in the circumstances.”
Kerry looked at him quizzically, as she thumbed through a bundle of notes.
“It’s all the rent that you’ve paid. We were saving it up to help Owen out,” he explained. “I don’t reckon he needs, or deserves, it now.”
“I can’t Mr Llewellyn,” Kerry whispered, trying to hand it back.
“No,” he replied, gently pushing the bundle away. “Please Mrs Johnson leave us with just a little of pride.” He turned and slowly walked out of the caravan; shoulders stooped, and head bowed; a broken man.
An hour later, when the police had finished everything that they needed to do, Kerry and Kelvin were finally alone, sitting holding each other. After a little while Kerry pulled herself away from Kelvin, and stood up.