by M. N. Forgy
THE FEAR THAT DIVIDES US
Copyright © 2015 M.N. Forgy
Edited by Hot Tree Editing
Photography by Furious Fotog
Cover model Paul Hagen
Cover by Arijana Karčić, Cover It! Designs
Formatted by Max Effect
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fictions. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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CONTENTS
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Also by the Author
Stalk M.N. Forgy
DEDICATION
This book is for all of those who have been tormented by pain.
Pain that keeps you from seeing a good thing when it was standing right in front of you, from seeking a path you so desperately want.
A pain that can come in many forms, both good and bad.
There is a playful spank, and there is one to mean harm.
There are words of laughter and some that are meant to judge you. Don’t let the worst keep you hostage from living.
Don’t fear the pain; fear the message behind it.
Six Years Earlier
Jessica
Looking in the mirror this morning, I wince at the ghastly sight of my face. The side of my cheek is completely black and blue, and my head hums with constant pain. A token for my lack of respect toward Travis last night. This is exactly why I can’t go back to work anytime soon, no matter how much I miss being a doctor.
“I’m so stupid,” I mutter, grabbing a pair of pants and shirt to slip on. My body aches, and my wrist screams with pain from being shackled. My core is raw. I was left bleeding from the relentless abuse Travis delivered last night. I am a wreck, a fucking wreck. He’s going to kill me one day, physically and mentally, of that I am sure.
Travis came home last night, drunk, reeking of booze and expensive perfume. The hospital had another event and I am sure he had some nurse shacked up in the coat closet. But apparently, she couldn’t satisfy him, who could with his sadistic desires. He ended up coming home to me for another round.
I was asleep in bed as he slid his hand into my hair, pulling it harshly to wake me up.
“Time to go down stairs,” he breathed in to my hair, his teeth clenched in anger. That is where he always takes me to belittle me, the basement. His anger is nothing new, just my presence alone angers him. The look of disgust as he eye fucks me across the room when he’s home from work is enough to make me shutter.
“Travis, I just got Addie to sleep, please not now,” I whispered as he continued tugging my hair with a painfully strong grip. I knew it was stupid to resist, to defy him when he was in such a state; but for some reason last night, I just had enough of it. I live day-after-day in utter fear; scared I’m going to say or do the wrong thing in front of Travis.
“Who do you think you’re talking to?” he gnashed, pulling my head back so hard it brought an instant headache. I knew I was going to pay for my outburst, but it felt good to defy him. It gave me a sense of hope, of control, which I wasn’t allowed either. Hope was for those who were not owned, and control was for the strong. Travis had said those words to me countless times, each time breaking my soul into nothing but broken possibilities.
He stood up on his knees, pulling me along the bed by my hair as I tried not to scream. I didn’t want to wake Addie, but I couldn’t help it. Between the fear slamming against my chest, and the pain radiating from my head, I couldn’t hold it in. I screamed and thrashed against the mattress as he pulled me off the bed like an old blanket, my feet striking the heated floors as I was pulled off completely.
“I think you need a reminder of who your master is!” he yelled, walking out of the room, still dragging me along behind him.
The back of my ankles thrashed against each step as he rushed down the stairs into the basement, the room slowly illuminating brightness as he turned on the lights.
He let go of my hair, relief flooding my scalp, but I couldn’t gain balance quick enough, causing my palms to slam into the unforgiving concrete as I fell face first to the ground.
“Travis, please,” I begged. I don’t know why I begged; it did no good. In fact, it fueled the bastard on. My ounce of bravery was reckless. What was I thinking? I knew better.
I looked up, my vision blurry from the amount of tears rising in my eyes. I blinked them away, trying to stand, but before I could lift my leg, a hand drilled into the side of my head, causing me to fly backwards, making my head smack into the wall.
I cried out as my head rang, the sounds around me fading. With the collar being locked into place around my neck, my body instantly went into survival mode. Which was doing whatever Travis wanted from me without hassle. I was a slave in that collar, but at least I would live to see another day.
“Get in position,” Travis demanded, his voice echoing in my head. I slowly stood, my legs wobbly as I walked over to the big bed covered in silver sheets. Sheets I had to wash with bleach plenty of times to remove the stench of despair and torture. Kneeling by the end of the bed, I waited for my next order, tears streaming down my face so fast my cheeks were raw.
Travis clutched my hair, pulling back harshly, making me look upward into his menacing blue eyes, blue eyes that had a sick way of penetrating what was left of my psyche. Which wasn’t much. The only thing that was still there was fierce love for my daughter. I had to keep strong for her sake. It was my job to keep her safe and if I broke to the point of no return, she would be left for the wolves.
Many would call me crazy if I told them I loved this man not so long ago, was head over heels with him. We shared what every new couple felt, butterflies when we first met, the nights where we did nothing but lay in bed and talked about mindless crap, the feeding each other bullshit. It was all a façade though, leading to me being collared and slaved at the foot of an abusive husband. Like all crystal-clear skies, eventually a storm rolls through, darkening your perfect view of life. It’s inevitable. With every hit of the whip, every grip to the throat, I wonder where I went wrong, but when the pain resides, and the air fills my lungs, I am reminded of where I messed up: I fell in love with a monster.
Travis leaned in and slid his tongue along my cheek, taking in my sorrow.
“Your sadness lets me know you know you’re aware of your place. You are here to serve me, and deliver whatever I ask of you, my wife.” He seethes the last part, making me clench my eyes shut. I tried to drown his words out, build a barrier.
“Do you understand?” he questioned. I nodded as a whimper sp
illed from my throat. “Say it,” he gritted out, gripping my chin harshly, his fingers bruising the skin.
“Yes, Master,” I spat, trying to pull from his hold. My tone takes me by surprise. I had no idea what had gotten into me.
“I see someone has attitude tonight. That’s okay. I know just what you need.” He grabbed me by the collar and lifted me, throwing me onto the bed face down. My legs twitched with the urge to run to the other side of the bed, but the collar, snug around my neck, reminded me of the punishment I would face for disobeying.
Straddling my body, slamming my wrists into the hard cuffs, pushing my head into the mattress hard enough to lock my collar into place, I was convinced I would suffocate. That finally the nightmare may truly end.
The bathroom door swings open, breaking my flashback of last night.
“You look like shit. Put some makeup on or something,” Travis insults.
“I don’t have any more makeup. I had to use what was left of it the last time you used me as a punching bag,” I clip, slamming drawers shut. I wince from my outburst, knowing it won’t go overlooked.
“What’d you say to me?” Travis grips my face harshly, making me instantly regret my choice of words. But why refrain from how I really feel about the bastard? Today won’t be any worse than tomorrow; he’ll still treat me like garbage.
“I said I fucking hate you,” I snarl, and spit in his face. Travis closes his eyes as he wipes his face.
“You think you’re something mighty, don’t you?” He rears his hand back and slaps me in the mouth, busting my lip wide open.
I fall against the bathroom counter, my breathing becoming harsh from the amount of pain my body is suffering.
“Jessica, I can tell I have not been very attentive to you in the basement. I have been lacking on your punishment, in return making you suffer, causing you to act out. I will deliver the pain you so desperately crave tonight, and you can count on that, my darling wife,” he grates out, pushing my head into the counter harshly. Tears fill my eyes. I’m exhausted, just plain fucking exhausted of this. I can’t take any more of this shit.
“NO!” Addie yells, running into the bathroom. My heart stammers as I hear Addie, immediately scared for her safety, and terrified of her seeing me like this.
Addie attacks Travis’s leg, yelling at him, scratching at him to let me go. I hear Travis exhale with anger as he pushes her off, making her stumble and fall to the floor.
Addie instantly starts crying.
“I don’t have time for this shit. I have to go to work,” Travis sneers, letting go of me and leaving the bathroom. I quickly fall to the floor and go to Addie, rocking her in my lap. I cup her cheeks and kiss all over her, noticing she landed on her face when she fell.
“Shit,” I whisper, hugging her tightly to my chest.
I can’t do this anymore. It was one thing when it was just me, but I can feel him becoming hostile toward Addie; it’s getting worse. The way he sneers at her, eyes her with distaste from the corner of his eye when she’s around him; it’s a time bomb ready to detonate at any moment. I have to get out of here, but I have to be smart about it. Just thinking about running makes my heart accelerate at a dangerous rate. The last time I ran, he almost killed me. I shake my head; I can’t think like that. I have to try. I have to try to get away. For my daughter. That means no calling my mother, no taking credit cards. I lift Addie up and go into the bedroom, open the safe, and take all the cash. Grabbing my purse from the counter, I run toward my car barefoot as quickly as I can, praying none of the house workers see us.
“Go bye bye?” Addie asks me.
“Yes, baby, we are going to go far, far away. Where daddy can’t hurt us anymore, where we don’t have to be afraid,” I whisper, locking her into her car seat. Tears spill from my eyes as I think of taking Addie from her father, but he’s not a father to her. He’s not a husband either. He’s just the warden to a fucked-up life that he’s imprisoned us both in. I climb in behind the wheel, my hands shaking with adrenaline. What if he catches me again? What if he follows me? I shake my head; start the ignition, and just drive. Where? I have no idea, but I will keep driving, to the point we can’t drive any further. Hopefully by then, I will have a plan.
Bobby
As I take a sip of what’s left of my beer, my eyes catch Babs coming through the kitchen over the top of the bottle. Her red hair is sticking to her face from the summer’s heat, and she’s mumbling about something. I set the empty bottle on the counter and watch her put up glasses and fill the ice bin. It’s quiet here. Too quiet. Nights in the clubhouse are usually filled with easy women and drugs. Well, somewhat easy. Seeing as I’m still a prospect, I don’t get near the amount of ass the patched-in brothers do, but I do all right. I peel the label from my beer and fold it in on itself out of boredom.
Old Guy crashes through the club’s front doors, catching everyone’s attention.
“Where’s Bull?” Old Guy asks, his voice frantic.
I shrug, not sure.
“I think he’s in his room. You want me to grab him?” Shadow asks, sitting next to me. I look over my shoulder at Shadow and grin. Ever since we became prospects, he’s been kissing ass. I can’t help but make fun of him, and I can get away with it because I knew him way before the club.
“Yeah. Hurry up,” Old Guy demands. He runs his hands along the sides of his head, smoothing back the long hair that’s escaped from its ponytail.
I slide off my bar stool and toss my bottle in the trash. I’m curious as to what has Old Guy in such a state. Bull comes out of his room, buckling his belt.
“This better be good, goddamn it,” Bull mutters as he makes his way toward the front door.
Before we make it to the door, Old Guy comes in carrying a woman. She’s curled up against his chest making it hard to see whether I know her or not. She has blonde hair, stained with blood in some spots, and clothes that look like they haven’t been washed in days.
“What the fuck?” Shadow whispers with disbelief. My eyes widen, shocked at the state the woman is in.
“Who is she?” I ask.
“Not sure. She pulled up in a nice car and kept asking to talk to whoever was in charge about wanting to make a deal, before collapsing to the ground,” Old Guy informs.
“A deal?” Bull asks. He walks up to the woman and brushes the hair from her face. “Someone did a number on her.”
“There’s more,” Old Guy shifts his feet and looks downward. Movement catches my eyes. I look down to find a child clinging to Old Guy’s legs.
“Fuck me,” escapes from my mouth in shock. A little kid with long, blonde hair and red cheeks hugs onto Old Guy like her life depends on it. I notice her pink dress, and kneel to the little girl’s height.
“Hi there, sweetie, is this your momma?” I ask, in a soft voice. I notice her left cheek is a little redder than her left, making me wonder if she fell down, or ran into something. Her face is stained from tears, and she has snot running down to her lips. She blinks her eyes a couple of times, as her bottom lip pouts. She looks at the woman in Old Guy’s hands, and begins to wail. Shit.
“I don’t think she can talk yet. She looks like she’s only two,” Old Guy says, shifting the unconscious woman in his arms. I shrug; I know nothing about kids.
“What do you want me to do, Prez?” Old Guy asks.
Bull nervously runs his hands through his black hair. “Shit, just take her to one of the rooms.” Old Guy heads down the hall with the little girl clinging to his legs, crying.
“What are you thinking, Prez, taking in a stray?” Shadow asks, shaking his head.
“That woman obviously has nobody else. I’m not about to throw a child, with a passed out mother, onto the street,” Bull says, his voice sharp and angry.
Shadow nods, knowing he overstepped his boundaries.
“What the fuck, man?” I ask Shadow. I know he has issues, but I’m surprised he has no compassion for the woman and child.
S
hadow glares at me with those evil-as-shit blue eyes.
“I’ll clean her up and take care of the child,” Babs says, heading down the hall.
I follow her down the hall into one of the empty rooms. I notice the little girl still clinging to Old Guy’s legs as Babs applies a wet cloth to the woman’s face. I lean over Babs to get a better look at the woman who’s lying on the unmade bed. She has a round face that’s bruised on one side. Her pouty lips red with the top lip split. She has long, blonde hair, and a thicker figure than most girls around here. Her rack is nice, too, from what I can see of it pushing against her shirt. Her white top has blood and dirt smeared over it, and her jeans are just as bad. Her bare feet, mucked with mud catch my attention. She’s not wearing any shoes. She must have been in a rush to leave without so much as grabbing her shoes. The woman’s eyes flutter open, catching my attention. They’re blue and bloodshot.
Instantly, the little girl clings to the blonde woman, the contact making them both cry.
“What’s your name, beautiful?” I ask the woman, as I sit on the bed.
Her eyes shoot to mine, her long lashes sticking together from what looks like her crying.
“My name’s Jessica. Are you in charge?” she asks, her voice cracking. Her eyebrows crease and she waits for my answer.
“No. No, I’m not,” I respond, with a kind smile. My heart thuds against my chest when her sad eyes catch mine, making me hold a sudden breath.
“This is Bobby. I’m Bull. I’d be the one in charge,” Bull says, stepping up from behind me. “Who did that number on your face, darling?” Bull gestures toward her split eye.
“I need protection.” Jessica looks over at her daughter. “We need protection.”
“From who?” I ask.
She looks up from her daughter who is straddling her lap and her eyebrows furrow. Her lips part as tears cascade from her blue eyes, like what she’s about to say is the hardest thing she’s ever spoke.
“From my husband,” she says softly.
She grabs her daughter’s small frame and pulls her close, more tears escape her tired eyes.