by Taryn Steele
Copyright © 2016 by Taryn Steele
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form of by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes, if done so constitutes a copyright violation.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblances is entirely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or names features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and that are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these forms are used.
Cover designed by: Robin Harper at Wicked by Design
Edits by: Kristen Hamilton at Kristen Corrects
Judy Brown at Write Technique
Photographer: Aimee Krzykowski, AK Photography
Formatted by: Elaine York at Allusion Graphics, LLC/Publishing & Book Formatting
ISBN-13:978-1523920037
ISBN-10:1523920033
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Acknowledgments
“IF YOU’RE GOING TO fucking run your mouth, then let’s put it to some good use.” Robert snarled as he shoved a fist into my hair and pulled my face to his crotch. As I opened my mouth to protest he jammed his hard dick in my mouth. Tears stung my eyes and my scalp seared as he yanked my head back and forth.
Breathing through my nose, I desperately tried to calm down, but I could feel hysteria rising. He kept pumping into my mouth, holding me in place, only wanting his own release, not giving a shit that his girlfriend was gagging on his dick, trying not to cry.
The first time I saw Robert, I was with my friends, Joleen and Tracy, in the rec hall at the campground we went to in Brimfield. He walked in with a bit of bad boy swagger. His baggy shorts and t-shirt, with the San Francisco 49ers hat pulled down low almost hiding his eyes, were worn with total confidence. I couldn’t look away.
He had two younger boys with him, I assumed little brothers or maybe even cousins. In any case, they clearly adored him.
Following their progress across the room, I tapped Joleen on the arm and looked deliberately toward the new hottie.
“Ooooooh, fresh meat. He’s right up your alley Hillary,” she said, with a loud cackling laugh. I inwardly agreed, that yes, he was right up my alley, but I was far too shy and self-conscious to ever approach him.
Bold Joleen wasn’t even close to shy, so the second he glanced over in our direction she gave him a big wave and yelled, “Hey hottie in the 49ers hat! Come check out my girl Hillary! She’s dyin’ to meet you!” I was mortified and exhilarated. He was coming over! And damn, he was so much hotter up close and personal.
“Hillary likes the 49ers – Hillary likes that song too – Hillary has been there before.”
As my shyness slowly fell away, I eased into conversation with him. His smile was boyishly handsome. His laugh was contagious, I couldn’t help but laugh as we joked about football.
Before the night was over, he looked directly across our little circle, “So, Hillary, do you want to go for a walk?”
In my head, I was running in circles, fist-pumping, screaming “YESSSSSSS,” but on the outside I was all “sure,” with a little shrug to imply how much of a totally regular thing this was.
Nerves jumping all over the place, I followed him out of the rec hall. It was dark, and the moon glowed big and bright to light our way along the pavement. I followed his lead to wherever he wanted to go, still not completely believing he’d even asked me to be out here with him. After about ten minutes of walking and simple conversation, we ended up at a mini playground, though it wasn’t much of a playground, with nothing but an old see-saw, two swings and an old, lumpy steel slide. Despite the moon, the lack of any other lighting and the crowding pine trees all around made it difficult to see, and I lost my poise going from pavement to sand. I wobbled a bit and Robert caught my arm in his strong hands preventing a potentially humiliating fall.
“You okay?” He asked.
“Yeah, just lost my footing, I guess. Sorry about that.”
He squeezed my arms a little tighter. “Don’t apologize. It just gave me an early opportunity to touch you.”
Instantly butterflies fluttered in my stomach as excitement and nerves took over. I was too nervous to look him in the eyes even though it was dark out. He slid his hands down my arms, and then cupped my face, roughly brushing his thumb over my lips. “I hope you haven’t had these soft lips on anyone else today.” Without even having a chance to respond, he crashed his lips into mine pushing his tongue in hard to open me up to him. We stayed in that one spot for what seemed like forever, making out like the teenagers we were.
The entire weekend was like that, all hand-holding and making out. I thought it was just a weekend fling, a side part of his family’s camping trip, so I was shocked when Robert gave me his phone number before he and his family left.
“I like you. I want to keep this going. You’d better call me.” He said it with such seriousness that hope bloomed in my chest. I just nodded. Could this finally be my chance? I’d never known the feeling of being wanted, growing up. It’s all I’ve ever wished for.
Once back home, we talked for two weeks before going on an actual date, meeting at a movie theater twenty minutes from the campground. It was so romantic. He bought me a drink, and a big bowl of popcorn for us to share, and he held my hand from the beginning of the movie until the end.
Once the movie was over, I was waiting for Robert while he used the men’s room when I heard someone calling my name. I turned to see my friend, Scott, from high school.
“Oh-my-god, Scott!” I cried with sincere excitement.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, embracing me in a big teddy bear hug.
“I’m on a date. What about you?”
“I’m here with Teresa.”
I couldn’t help but smile knowing they have been together since we were all in the tenth grade.
Scott and I were just saying our good-byes as Robert exited the bathroom. He looked enraged, grabbing me by the elbow pulling me out of the theater.
“Ow, you’re hurting me!” I didn’t say it loud though, not wanting to draw any attention to us. He didn’t say a word until we crossed the parking lot to my car.
He pushed me against my car door, then put both arms on either side of me, caging me in, leaning down so we were nose to nose. “Who the hell was the guy you were so damn friendly with?”
Shocked I couldn’t speak.
“Hey!” he shouted, t
apping my cheek to get my attention.
“That was just my friend Scott from high school. He’s here with his girlfriend.” I glowered. “You’re completely over-reacting.”
He took his arms off the car, looked down towards the ground, and let out a long breath. “Sorry, baby. I just saw another guy all up on my girl and I lost it. I like you so much. Forgive me?” He looked and sounded sincere. He must’ve been telling the truth.
I wish nothing more than I could turn back time and tell myself to walk away that night.
Three weeks later, we were at a party having a great time, until Robert over heard me talking to some girls about his kissing style. He grabbed me by the wrist pulling me in to the bathroom. Slamming the door shut, he locked it and then punched me in the side of the head.
“Why are you telling people about our intimate time together?” I was so out of it I couldn’t respond. “Well, now you can go back and tell them about the blow job you’re about to give me.” I could feel the tears prickling my eyes. My head hurt.
“No Robert. I’m not going to do that.”
“Oh, yes, baby, you are.” He unzipped his pants, pulling them down to his ankles along with his boxers and immediately started stroking himself. “Get on your knees baby.”
“You can’t be serious.”
He took my hand pulling me to him.
“If you’re going to fucking run your mouth, then let’s put it to some good use,” he snarled.
I can’t believe this is what we’ve come to.
After the first minute, I knew what I had to do to get this over with. As much as I didn’t want to, I sucked hard and fast. A few minutes later, I could feel him quivering in my mouth. I knew he was close. Moments later, with tears running down my cheeks, I could feel his hot release hit the back of my throat. It was over.
He released his hand from the back of my head. “Damn baby your mouth is magical. Don’t be mad at me. I just don’t want our special time together shared with anyone else. Those times are important to me. I want to keep them sacred.” He lifted me to my feet and kissed my forehead.
My heart was pumping so hard and so fast I’d swear you could see it through my sheer blouse. Full of rage and fear, my palms sweating, I let my emotions take over and I slapped him across the face. I turned and fled out of the house and into my car. I immediately locked the doors. I frantically searched through my purse for the extra set of keys I left in there. The front door of the house slammed shut and Robert was charging towards me. Dumping my purse out on the seat, I scrambled for the key. As I grabbed them and turned to put them in the ignition, shards of glass sprayed in my face. A pair of hands grabbed my arms, lifting me up.
“Don’t you ever fucking slap me like that again! I fucking love you and this is how you treat me?”
Robert yanked me through the broken window that he’d just punched out, a piece of glass ripping my pants pocket. He let me fall to the ground while he unlocked the car door. Pushing the broken glass aside with his feet in his worn out white and black Puma sneakers, he barked “Get up. We’re leaving.” And I complied.
When we got back to his place he took my hand and had me follow him in to the bathroom. As I stood there in scared silence I watched him start a bath. “Let me clean you up and take care of you.” His eyes looked like they were full of pain and regret.
He followed through on what he said. He did take care of me the rest of the night.
Roberts’s behavior continued and I continued to stay with him. He pointed out reasons for his behavior and it was usually my own fault. I would mentally yell at myself each time. I started to catch on that he would not hit my face. That part of my body, mainly my mouth was sacred just for his cock, eventually that didn’t matter and he’d hit me there anyway.
No one in my family knew I was dating Robert. No one really cared what I was doing, period, and never had. Except for Robert. He cared. My mother reminded me often that I wasn’t good enough for anyone’s time, anyone’s care or anyone’s love. I was good enough for Robert. He told me so.
He was still careful not to leave any bruises on my face… until the day I got pregnant.
I had the perfect dinner date planned to tell him the news. Robert was great with his little cousins and loved kids, so I wasn’t scared to tell him. I was excited. I knew no one was at his house, so I let myself in to start making a cheesy and meaty lasagna with salad and garlic bread. I decorated the dinner table with candles and had everything laid out beautifully. I was dancing around the kitchen like a ballerina; I just had the feeling that this baby was going to make everything better. He would change. I would change. We would change … for the better.
I heard keys in the front door and knew it was Robert.
“What’s all this?” he asked, as he saw me standing in the kitchen with a deluxe spread of food.
“It’s dinner,” I replied. “We’re celebrating.”
He eyed me quizzically, waiting for me to share.
“I got some news today. I think you’ll be just as happy as I am. I was shocked at first but I think it’s meant to be. I’m pregnant Robert. We’re going to have a baby and I think it will help make things better with us.”
My heart was racing with excitement as I waited for his response. Robert wasn’t smiling. His face was stone cold and expressionless.
Suddenly he darted up out of his chair, knocking it over and stomped over to me, grabbing me by my collar and throwing me down on to the cold, ceramic floor. As he immediately began kicking me in the stomach in his fury, I flailed and tried to protect myself.
“We ain’t having no fucking baby!” He shouted over and over, punctuating each kick. “This baby will ruin my life!”
I cried and begged him to stop. When I tried covering my stomach with my arms, but he grabbed my arms away and stood on them and punched me instead. He didn’t stop until I was vomiting all over the floor, and bleeding.
As our baby bled onto the floor with my hopes for our future, the year of carefully placed slaps and punches designed to hide his cruelty, all the times he held me down to force blow jobs, flashed through my mind. What had I done to deserve it? Why couldn’t I be what he wanted? What was wrong with me?
Lying there, trying to understand how this went so wrong, I looked up at him as he stood over me, sneering.
“We’re done, Hillary. You’re just not good enough.”
“Don’t waste our money going to college, Hillary. Nothing will come of it anyway.”
May 4, 2001
FRIDAY NIGHT AND I’M WORKING. It’s all-good though. The Louis and Clark Drug Store I work at in North Hampton, Massachusetts, isn’t a particularly busy one. The “Paradise City” barely populates at twenty-eight thousand people. The teenagers I work with want to get out of here just as fast as I do, and since I’m only a couple of years older than them we get along really well.
“Hey, hey, hey! What’s goin’ on?” I hear, followed by an obnoxious laugh.
“Jesus, Tess. Can you be any louder?” I bark.
“Hurry up and come up to Dawn’s when you get out.”
I look up from the paperwork I’m filling out. “You’re going there now?” I question her.
“Yup!”
“Okay. Hopefully no one screwed up their drawer and I can be there by 9:15 p.m.”
Just as I had hoped, my lil’ teens were perfect coworkers. They had even drawers and by 9:09 p.m. we bounced. Doors locked and alarm set.
Dawn’s Coffee Depot was a little donut and coffee shop that my friends and I hung out at. It didn’t matter what time of day, it was just our spot. Have you ever watched “Saved by the Bell”? They had The Max. Beverly Hills 90210 had The Peach Pit. Well, I had Dawn’s Coffee Depot.
What we loved about Dawn’s was, even if we weren’t buying coffee, they still let us hang out in the parking lot, in our vehicles, or sit out on the picnic tables outside. We weren’t trouble makers; we just wanted to be simple “adults” if you would. Most of us w
ere ‘newby’ twenty-one-year olds, some a year or two younger and some a year or two older.
I pull up to the drive-thru speaker at Dawn’s and order a Snickerdoodle hot chocolate. No whipped cream, there’s enough sugar in there. I pay, park my car, check my makeup, and grab my hot chocolate and cigarettes and head towards Tess.
Tess Boudreaux was hard to miss. Her long, thick, dark hair was always in perfect order. Her soft olive skin matched beautifully with her sweet smile and contagious laugh. I had first met her in my high school English class; she stood out to me because she asked me how to spell “moist.” I giggled as the memory resurfaced. We’re lucky enough to still be friends after all these years.
“Hillary’s here!”
“I told you by 9:15 p.m. right?” I remind her.
I make my rounds saying hello to everyone, but just as I’m about to sit down I hear a loud vehicle door close nearby. I turn my head to see a guy I think I recognize. He’s not super tall, but he’s not short either. He has a glorious broad chest and short dark hair with sexy day old facial hair. Before I can ask who he is Tess chimes in.
“Hillary, this is my friend Jameson Michaels. I worked with him at Subway last year. Jameson this is Hillary Nowal.”
With his hand outreached, he says, “Hi. You look familiar. I think we had a class or two together. Anyway, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Hi,” I say, returning the gesture.
He’s cute. I think. A smirk crosses my face.
It was a relaxed Friday night. Everyone was winding down from the week; simple chitchat, plans for the weekend, basic stuff like that. I noticed time was creeping up on 11:00 p.m., but everyone was having a good time hanging out and talking, and I was too. I wanted to stay but I had a curfew. Yes, at twenty-one years old I had a curfew, and a rent payment at my own house that I lived in with my parents. Did I mention I’m twenty-fucking-one years old?
I stepped away from the picnic tables and walked towards my car to call my mom so no-one could hear me.
“Ahem, hello?”
“Mom it’s me. I’m at Dawn’s with friends, just hanging out drinking coffee and hot chocolate. Everyone is probably going to stay for another hour or so. Is it okay if I stay?” Tears already prickle my eyes.