by C S COURT
Trapped
Book #1 of The Breaking Free Series © C S Court
By C S Court
Copyright © 2014 C S Court
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to peoples either living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places and characters are figments of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously. The author recognises the trademarks and copyrights of all registered products and works mentioned within this work.
To My Mum. Thank you for believing in me from the get go. For Putting a smile on my face and helping me de-stress, when I nearly threw the laptop out of the window.
Without your love and encouragement, I would have never even started to write.
To my beautiful babies. Without your daily fights, temper tantrums and general all round naughtiness, I wouldn’t have found the time to lock myself away and pound out my frustrations on my keyboard. You both make life interesting, and never fail to put a smile on my face. You fill my heart with love and joy, and I’m thankful every day to have you both in my life, even if it is whilst I tear my hair out.
To my crazy best friend Linzi. Thank you for the being the one person I could rely on in all of this, no matter what crap I threw your way, you continued to help and were there for me from the start. All the tears and frustration were not in vain, I finally did it baby! Woop Woop!
To my girlies Amanda and Chanelle. This book would not have been possible without all of your craziness! Our drunken conversations, and mad antics played a huge part in giving me inspiration.
I love you all, and I can’t thank any of you enough.
MWAH.
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PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE.
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
PROLOGUE
You know that feeling?
The one caused by the man you gave everything positive in your life up for, the sudden realisation that it was all a game to that man, he never really wanted you, only could not let you go!
The one where you comprehend all your hopes and dreams were thrown away on some belief, that the man who stole your heart and was to be your happily ever after, only ended up being the man who stole it and ripped it all to shreds.
Showing you how truly worthless he feels you are, and turning you in to a scrap of the girl you once were.
You see, it is not just the physical abuse that beats you down and tears you apart; it is also the mental abuse.
The mental abuse can often be worse at times. You are made to feel crazy, frequently told you are a ‘nutjob’ and it is all in your head.
The physical beatings heal, whereas the mental stays deep within your soul. A permanent reminder of the pain you go through daily.
Any problems and all that anger he is throwing at you, is because you are utterly useless and will never be what he needs. Made to feel that every punch and kick aimed in your direction is deserved, if you could just do right by your man it would stop.
How does anybody take that level of abuse and continue functioning normally, or at least put on the front of normality, whilst falling apart behind closed doors?
Well the truth is, you just do. There is no way out that most victims can see, therefore they continue in this cycle daily, for the majority, if not all of their lives.
Some have a silver lining, something positive that they hold on to and use as a lifesaver to keep them waking up every day, and just living the life they have.
My silver lining is my two beautiful babies. My sole purpose for going through this hell on earth and not giving up. For trying to better their lives and mine! If I give up and lose myself to his torture, then my babies will never be safe.
I will not leave my children, I will not allow him to capture them in his rotten, evil clutches and contaminate them.
I will protect them, they will never see his evilness first hand. I got myself in to this situation, therefore I will suffer this burden alone.
I gave them life and I will make it the best one I can, regardless of what I endure, he will never get to them!
I lived day by day, waiting for my life to turn around. Always believing in what my Mum always told me:
Life is a test. It will only throw at you what you can handle. Therefore, whenever you feel like giving up, just keep fighting; you are one of the strong ones! You will never receive your reward if you throw in the towel and give up, the rewards always make the pain and suffering worthwhile. How do you ever expect to appreciate the good if you do not experience the bad?
And then he walked in to my life.
He showed me there are ways out. That there are men who will love and respect not just you, but your family as a whole.
That no matter what situation you are in, there is always someone there for you. Someone who will love and worship you. Someone, who with no warning at all will come along and turn your world upside down..... In the best possible way.
You see, Life had a way of kicking me down for so long, but the funny thing about that was, there was only so far down I could go, before I came back up.
This is my story. Of the girl who lost her way.
Who didn’t believe in happily ever after’s and hearts & flowers.
Who was down so low, she never saw a way out. But when that way out came she grasped it with both hands and gave it her all.
That way out has a name, and his name is Hunter.
CHAPTER ONE
“Kids!” No reply. “KIDS?”
What a brilliant start to the day. Our bus is due in eight minutes, I cannot find my keys and I need to run to the shop and top up my oyster card, all to get them to school this morning.
“Kids, come on! Get your shoes on and get to the front door! We have got to go! NOW!”
Think, think, think, where did I last leave them?
I run straight up the stairs, my legs protesting at the speed in which I was taking them, make a left at the top and run across the landing, directly in to my room.
I am such a ditzy cow sometimes, my keys are exactly where I last left them, on top of my faux leather mini chest of drawers. It’s a damn good job I am naturally blonde, I more than live up to the stereotype.
I leg it, as fast as is safe, down the stairs and throw on my UGG boots.
“Kids please tell me you are ready? I am walking out the front door right now, if you are not with me then I have got to lock you in.” Why am I pleading with a three year old and a five year old? If my other half could hear me, I would be, at the very least in for a mouthful.
I could cry in frustration. I really do have to toughen up with them, I cannot have them disrespecting and starting to walk all over me like Dan does.
“Mummy, I can’t find my shoe. Not both shoes, just one, okay mummy?” My three year old may very well have the sweetest voice and the most beautiful face I have ever come across, but my god she does test my patience at times.
“Lily, where did you leave them, you were wearing them last night? I haven’t got time for this, if we miss the bus, you and your brother will be late!” I reply.
It might on
ly be 8 o clock in the morning, but I am more than ready for bed time tonight.
I get to the bottom of the stairs and open the utility door in the hall, oh low and behold, there it is, exactly where the shoes go.
We have a huge pile of shoes and coats in there. Our hall is so small that you simply cannot open the front door if there is anything stored there.
Therefore, my poor utility gets abused and is absolutely stuffed with everything we have no room for in the house.
There are at least fifty pairs of shoes in there. The ones we wear most often are obviously at the top of the pile.
“Lily, I have it, get it on quick, we need to run if we are going to make it in time.” I shout as I throw the black patent dolly style shoe across the hall and into the front room.
My son Alex, is thankfully, waiting by the front door. A bored expression on his face.
His book bag is thrown over his shoulder and he has his black ‘kicker’ school shoes on.
I know I’m biased, all Mum’s are, but he really is a good looking little man.
Stunning green eyes, framed with long dark lashes, the cutest little button nose possible, high cheek bones and a mop of dirty blonde hair.
He will make a lot of women fall at his feet and swoon when he’s older. God help them...and me for that matter!
Opening the door, I very nearly fall flat on my arse as Lily runs past me, stepping on my toes as she goes.
Oh thank god, she is finally ready to go.
I pull the front room door closed, effectively stopping our three year old schitzu Daisy from making her way upstairs and chewing the children’s toys.
I double check I have my purse and quickly leave, my chest tightening from the panic of being late.
I detest the school run, there is never such a thing as an easy morning.
I am always running late, stressing myself out over what to put in my sons packed lunch and always shouting at the children to get ready.
My poor neighbours must think I am murdering them, what with the incessant screaming and shouting constantly going on.
It’s a battle all day, every day.
After popping in the shop, we finally make it to the bus stop with literally twenty seconds to spare before the 492 bus to Bluewater arrives.
I open my purse and pull out my oyster card, shepherding the kids on the bus.
Alex makes a beeline for his friend at the back, whilst Lily decides she wants to sit as far away from Alex as is possible, and bounces up the stairs.
“Alex hunny, can you come and sit upstairs? I’ll let you play on my phone.” Hopefully bribing will work.
Alex whips his head around to face me, a full on pout graces his lips, his whiney voice making an appearance, “Mummy, noooo. I want to sit with Charlie.” Of course my life could never be that simple, my children will always pick a fight.
I try for the mean Mummy approach, “Alex, now! If you do not get your bum up these stairs in the next three seconds, there will be no cartoons tonight and definitely no tablet! ONE....” Alex grumbles under his breath and stamps his foot; he picks up his bottle green book bag and walks towards the stairs, throwing me daggers with his eyes as he passes me, his friend Charlie jumps up and rushes after him, his Mother not even glancing up from her phone to see where he is going.
I never envisioned every school run would be this much hard work. I always assumed, even without Dan being around they would be well behaved and I could handle the tantrums, I don’t think I could have been more wrong if I had tried.
We eventually make it to the school playground, thank god! Alex kisses me on the cheek and runs in the side door with his friends.
Lily grabs my hand and looks up at me, her big green eyes sparkling in the sunlight.
My baby girl will definitely give me several heart attacks when she gets older, the boys will flock to her and I will be fighting them off.
She also has her brothers tiny button nose and huge green eyes framed in beautiful long lashes, high cheeks bones and pouty lips most women have Botox to get.
She has long blonde hair, already mid waist and skin like a porcelain doll, saying that, she is very doll like in appearance.
She looks so innocent and angelic, like butter wouldn’t melt, I think to myself. There is no way you could tell how cheeky she is only from looking at her, the devil in disguise I used to joke.
Lily tugs on my hand, abruptly breaking me from my reverie and forcing my attention back on her.
She starts chatting away to me.
Obviously the nodding and smiling I am doing is not good enough to fool her, as she stops walking, halting me in my tracks and starts demanding, “Mummy, look at me! LOOK AT ME!”
I can’t help it, I have to laugh, she is hilarious when she’s trying to be serious. Her hands on her hips and her bum pushed out to one side, her head tilts at a slight angle and her eye brows are raised so high they nearly disappear in to her hair line. “When I get home, we will pick Tia up and go swimming, yeah?”
She sounds so hopeful, how can I deny her these simple little pleasures?
The thing is, she’s not prevented from playing at home, but she is stopped from playing with anything noisy.
She cannot laugh too loud, or squeal in delight. Simple little things every three year old experiences is halted, and toys that are loud are often thrown out.
Therefore, as much as I am absolutely exhausted and could really do with an early night, I will do what I can and when I can for them, including the confrontation I will face at home once they are in bed for taking Lily out, just so she can play with other children her age and experience a normal childhood.
‘Of course baby girl, instead of swimming, do you want to go to Ella’s house, we can take Tia with us?’
Her cherubic face screws up in thought, tiny wrinkles appearing on her little button nose and her left cheek rises slightly, ‘Okay Mummy, but we don’t tell Daddy. We have a Mummy and Lily day and keep it our special secret; I don’t want to hear Daddy shout, okay?’ She speaks so low I can just about hear her.
My heart partially cracks from her words.
Dan may very well break me physically, but he will never break me mentally, not whilst I have my babies.
Although hearing my three year old whispering those heart-breaking words to me, hurts more than any punch or kick he could throw my way!
Why should my angel keep secrets from her Daddy?
Why should she fear hearing him shout?
He may never lay a hand on the kids, but they obviously know something is not right and their automatic response is to hide it from him. To have to keep our plans secret from that brute just angers me even more.
I will get them out of this situation, I will better our lives, it’s just a matter of how and when, but for the meantime, we will need to keep secrets and sneak around behind his back to give them a regular, fun filled childhood.
No matter how drained and anxiety riddled I become, I will do whatever needs to be done to accomplish this.
I bend down to my angel’s level, one knee bent on the floor, my arms wrapped around her tiny waist.
My heart swells as I look into those stunning green eyes, so identical to my own, “That’s a very good idea my gorgeous girl, so how about we play a game? The person who keeps the secret gets a new hello kitty doll. How does that sound?” If we have to keep secrets then I can at least take away the seriousness and darkness behind it all.
Lily wraps her arms around my neck, leans in to me and plants the biggest smooch on my cheek possible. “Yay mummy,” she squeals “But mummy. I’m gonna win.” she sings the last part, making me break out in a fit of giggles.
My girl is so competitive, it does not matter what it is, she will of course have to win.
“Yes baby, of course you will win, my beautiful number one girl. Now give me a biiiig kiss and I will see you at lunch time.” She does as I ask and jumps up, running as fast as her little legs can carry her straight throug
h the open nursery door.
God I love that girl.
“MUMMY!” I turn quickly back towards where she disappeared. “I love you” she shouts and promptly runs back inside.
And that right there is why I continue to get up every morning and just face whatever crap Dan throws my way.
I continuously wonder how someone so evil could have a part in making something so perfect. Action’s like that cause a golf ball sized lump to wedge itself in the back of my throat, the backs of my eyes stinging doesn’t help any either.
That girl certainly knows how to hit my deeply emotional hotspots.
After a few moments of contemplating how I didn’t see the signs sooner. How I managed to fall into Dan’s trap and let him suffocate my life until all that was left was him. I snap myself out of it. I make the decision then and there that although I can’t escape him at home, I will escape him in the day when he’s not around.
I will not permit that parasite to consume my thoughts. He’s a disease and he will not infect us in our ‘free time’.
Right, enough thoughts of Dan and his reign of terror, time to get my butt in gear. I think to myself as I head in the direction of Sainsbury’s, trying desperately to remember the items Dan told me I needed to purchase for him.
Energy drinks for work and.... oh crap, what the hell did he want again?!
Grabbing the Supermarkets own brand of drinks, I place them in the basket. I then browse the shelves in almost every aisle, trying to recollect what it was he asked me to buy.
Ah yes, tomato ketchup.
I could practically skip through the store at the moment, it might seem so insignificant to most people, forgetting an item on a shopping list, but for my fussy eater of a partner, it is another reason to anger him and make it highly likely that he will be in a foul mood for the next few days.