Cupcakes and Crooked Spoons (Sweet Treats Book 3)

by Charity B.

  It isn’t until he’s in the shower that I dare speak. “Do you think the cake’s chocolate or vanilla?”

  Toben snorts and releases his hands from behind his head. “I wish it was dope flavored.”

  He’s so silly that I giggle. “There’s no such thing as heroin cake.”

  Stretching his arms, he laughs with me. “Well, there should be.”

  By the time Logan comes out of the shower, we’re both correctly kneeling.

  “Alright, my playthings, you can get up.”

  Hurrying as fast as my sore body will allow, I go to Logan, who is digging in a bag. He lifts a big square box and when he looks at me, his face is soft and his eyes twinkle. Sometimes when he acts like this, I like him.

  He raises the box with a grin. “Is this what you’ve been so excited about, Lotus?”

  I hear Toben’s foot steps behind me, as I smile back.

  “Yes, Logan.”

  With raised eyebrows, he looks to Toben while still speaking to me. “Well, it’s Toben’s birthday cake, so it’s up to him if he wants to share.”

  “What do you mean? Of course he does.”

  I look back at Toben and he has his chin in his hand like he’s actually having to think about it!

  “Hmmmm, should Tavin get cake?”

  I can’t believe it!

  He starts laughing and waves his hand for Logan to give me the box. I pretend to frown at him as I carry it to the table. Ignoring the sting of the fabric rubbing my cuts, I open it and look inside. There’s a cake with white frosting that says, ‘Happy 11th Birthday, Toben’ in blue letters. Getting a fork and knife, I cut a big ol’ piece. It’s chocolate! YUM! The piece is half gone before I make it to the bed.

  While we eat our cake, Logan gives Toben his birthday presents. Our radio broke a couple weekends ago, so I’m excited that he gets a stereo and a CD.

  Logan tells him, “The employee at Sam Goody suggested the band to one of my assistants, when she told him what genre you preferred.”

  “Slayer?” Toben scrunches his eyebrows as he looks at the case.

  Logan shrugs. “Apparently.”

  He still gives us candy even though we already had cake! Today is cinnamon gummies and Logan says they’re his favorite.

  “Okay, my playthings, I’ve stayed much too late already. Lie on the bed and I’ll inject you before I leave.”

  Toben and I are more than capable of doing ourselves up, but I think Logan likes to do it. We face each other and smile. We like to pretend that when we get high, we’re actually dead for a few hours and our souls are free to be together without torment.

  Logan fades into the shadows as we float away to ecstasy…

  My eyes flutter open and I awake to Toben smiling. He seems to do that a little less lately.

  “Do you know what today is?”

  Stretching my whole body as far as I can, causes me to groan with gratification. Of course I know what today is.

  “I met you a year ago.”

  He rolls onto his back and his hand drapes across his eyes. “I can’t believe it.”

  I cross my arms over his chest before I rest my head on my hands. “Do you wish that you never met me?”

  He jerks his hand from his face and his head snaps in my direction. “Why would you ask me that? Of course not.” He leans toward me as his hand moves to rub over my hair. “You’re the only person on this earth that I love.”

  “You’re the only person that I love, too. I thought I loved Mommy, and now I don’t even miss her anymore, so maybe I never did.” Tracing my finger along the scar his daddy gave him, I explain why I asked. “It’s just…if you didn’t know me, then Logan would never have bought you. You would still be going to school, having friends, and sitting on the beach.”

  His face twists up. “Jesus. Just the idea of you going through this with that rapist fuck all alone makes me want to cut open my chest and rip out my heart. Even if I’d known this was going to happen, it wouldn’t have changed a thing.”

  He makes my body warm. It’s not like when you’re hot, it’s more like my heart is cozy. His fingers twirl my hair and I lift my head toward him, placing a kiss to his lips. He smiles his ornery grin and his cheeks pink. Pushing myself off the bed, I skip to the fridge. We saved the last two pieces of his birthday cake for today and I’m so excited to eat it.

  “Do you want to eat the cake for breakfast?”

  “Uh, yeah…duh.” He laughs to himself when he sits up against the wall.

  I return with two forks and two deliciously full plates. Sitting down next to him, I give him his. “Do you think I will ever get a birthday cake?”

  His shoulders slump. “Oh jeez, Tav… I…” He shakes his head. “You would have had to have had a birthday since we met, you really don’t have any idea when it is?”

  I tap my chin. “Once Mommy told me she had to go outside when it was cold to get me food when I was born… I always wondered when she stopped feeding me.”

  “It was cold? That’s all you know?”

  I try hard to remember. “Uhhh…oh yeah, she said that she hated seeing all the lights.”

  He scrunches his nose. “The lights? Like Christmas lights?” I don’t know, so I just shrug. Standing up, he goes to the calendar and lifts two pages. “Let’s see…What number do you like?”

  He always says such interesting things. I’ve never thought of having a favorite number. I have a favorite color though. It’s purple! After thinking about it for a minute, I decide on one.

  “I think I like eight.” I don’t tell him it’s because his birthday is on the eighth, even though I think he knows.

  He grins. “The eighth it is, then. Tavin Winters… Hey! Your last name is Winters and you were born in the winter. That’s neat.” He leans down to get a pen from the night stand and draws on the calendar. “Your birthday is now December eighth. Do you think that you’ll be turning eleven or twelve?”

  I really don’t know because Mommy and Daddy would go back and forth, I just know I want to be the same age as Toben.

  “Eleven.”

  I skip to the calendar to see what he’s written.

  Tavin’s 11th Birthday.

  Bubbles in my tummy and flips in my heart are going to make it so hard to wait that long! I’ve never celebrated a birthday before!

  I try not to focus on my birthday because today is about us, not just me. I think that I might cry when Toben hands me a small box wrapped in sparkly, blue paper. I almost don’t want to open it because it’s so lovely with the big, pink bow. He hid it under the stairs without me even knowing. He’s so sneaky.

  He throws his arms in the air. “Happy Friendiversary!”

  “How did you do this?” Tears make my voice sound weird. “I didn’t get you anything.” How selfish of me! I should have drawn him a picture or something.

  He puts his arms around me. “Oh, come on, don’t get sad, and I cheated anyway. I had help from Logan.” He smiles when I look up at him. “Besides, all I need is you.” He gestures to the pretty package. “Open it.”

  I rip open the paper to find a wooden box with a black metal latch. When I lift the latch, my breath snags because I am looking at the most beautiful doll in the world. Her hair is brown and is in ringlets tied off with pink bows. Her pink dress has a ton of ruffles and her skin is made of porcelain. Her blue eyes are looking right at me and she’s so small that she can fit in the palm of my hand. I’ve never had anything like this before and I love her so much!

  “Toben, she’s beautiful! Thank you!” I wrap my arms around him tight while he picks me up and twirls me around.

  I love when he does that.

  Five months later—March, 2003

  I stare at the blood still under my fingernails, from our playdate with Morgan, Logan’s remaining Lotus, and look out the window of the plane. One thing that I’ve learned while doing this, is that Logan favors Tavin immensely. He still gives Morgan everything he gives us and he doesn’t touc
h her face, he just isn’t affectionate with her the way he is with Tav. You wouldn’t necessarily think that would be a good thing, but in this case, it definitely is.

  Morgan is fourteen and still hasn’t mastered keeping quiet, like Tavin has. She screamed so loud I thought for sure my eardrums would break, while I ran the sander across her shoulders.

  There was so much blood.

  He doesn’t make Tavin bleed as bad as Morgan either. I hate it when she begs, I can’t do anything for her and even if I could, my only priority is Tavin. I still can’t believe I screamed at her.

  “Shut the fuck up, Morgan!”

  Logan thought that was funny, apparently, because I won’t ever forget the way he looked, standing there laughing while he smoked a cigarette, while his hand was still wet with her blood.

  I hate his smug smirk. “Gets annoying as hell, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, Logan.”

  I hate myself for actually meaning it.

  Even though we have to fly to get to Morgan, we’re only on his plane for a total of three hours, there and back. I had never been on a plane before being on Logan’s jets and the one we are on today is the most elaborate, by far. This thing is ridiculous. It’s bigger than any house I have ever seen. There are multiple bedrooms, bathrooms, a conference room, a kitchen, a freaking theatre room, and that’s just what I’ve seen so far. Tavin would lose it if she saw this.

  Logan told me that Tavin isn’t to know about the other girls, and to be honest, I don’t know if I would tell her anyway. I don’t want her to know what I do to Morgan. I thank whatever power is out there, that he doesn’t make me do anything sexual to her, but I still mutilate her, and tear her apart, body and soul.

  “Come now, sit with me, Plaything.” He pulls a drag off his cigarette and I obey as I sit across from him in one of the comfiest chairs in the galaxy. I adjust my beanie and cross my arms as he carries on. “I’m quite pleased with your progress, you have proved to be more entertaining than I could have foreseen.”

  Pulling another Marlboro from his pack, he holds it out for me and nods in response to my hitched brow. I shrug and take it along with the lighter. I’ve only smoked once in my life. Christopher gave it to me and I just remember a lot of coughing. For the millionth time, I wonder how he is. We would be in middle school now.

  Flick, light, inhale.

  Even while I’m coughing, it isn’t as bad as I remember.

  “In the spirit of our one year tomorrow, I’m going to allow you a single question. You can ask anything without repercussion.” Yeah, I don’t trust this. I stay silent, so he asks, “Is there nothing that you’d like to know?”

  Oh, there is a shit ton I would like to know. It all falls out in a mess as I blurt my word-vomit.

  “Why do you do this? You’re filthy rich and can have any woman you want. Why destroy, kill, and rape children? That’s right asshole, I said ‘rape’ not fucking play. How do you not see that you’re a morbid, disturbed, sick freak?”

  His nails are probably digging holes into the perfect upholstery. “That’s enough.”

  It isn’t near enough, it will never be enough.

  My voice raises as I yell, “How can you look at Tavin, at her gorgeous eyes, and do the things you do to her? Say the things you say? She’s a little girl! How can you feel nothing?”

  He flies out of his chair, and burning hazel is all I see. I crouch down, trying to get deeper into the chair.

  “IT’S THE ONLY TIME I FEEL SOMETHING!”

  His voice vibrates off the walls and into me. His composure has slipped and it’s terrifying. He looks as though he’s about to rip my throat out, when he moves back to his seat. He rolls his neck and takes a drag.

  He’s back in control now with his voice returning to its slow pace. “Their innocence is a drug. Their perfect, soft little bodies breaking beneath my grasp is better than any heroin. While the needle numbs the numbness, my Lotus’…” Closing his eyes for a moment, a groan rolls from his mouth. “They are little souls in the palm of my hand. I am their God-their maker. Their immaculate blood is the only way to sate the hunger. It’s only through them that I feel alive.”

  “Why are you like this? What made you this way?”

  There are times I feel myself becoming comfortable, and then I get a reminder like this one and the terror envelops me again.

  “I’ve been a living corpse since the day they ripped me from my mother’s cunt.”

  Inhale. Exhale. Huh, I’m not coughing anymore.

  “I do not love my children and I do not love my wife, they simply decorate the façade. Nothing made me like this, Plaything. It is simply who I am.” Relaxing his body, he blows out his last drag and puts out the Marlboro. “Sharing this with Kyle is the closest thing to a friendship that I will ever have, and teaching you is the closest thing to feeling like a father, that I will ever experience.”

  Am I supposed to feel bad for him? Yeah well, fuck you, Logan. I finish my cigarette as we fly in silence and I can’t wait to get back to Tav. She’s the only thing that keeps me sane. That keeps me…Toben. I already know I earned another night in the cage, and she’ll be pissed about it, but he’ll let me out tomorrow.

  It’s our anniversary, after all.

  Four months later—July, 2003

  “…Eighteen, nineteen, twenty! Ready or not, here I come!”

  Tavin’s voice has been sounding a little strained lately. I’m in her closet and she has to find me within three tries or I win. While we’re too old for hide and seek, our entertainment options are somewhat limited and a person can only watch so much TV.

  The light shines over me and I see the silhouette of her hands on her hips.

  “The closet? Are you even trying?”

  I crawl out. “There are five places to hide in this basement, so give me a break.”

  She huffs. “What do you want to do now?”

  “How about smoke more of that weed Logan left us?”

  Clapping her hands together, she says, “Okay!”

  She really likes pot, it lets her relax and she smiles more.

  As we pass the joint back and forth, I sing her our lullaby and she leans in close. I like her close.

  I look at the clock.

  “Fuck.”

  “What?”

  “Logan will be here any minute to run errands.” I tell that lie so often it’s automatic. I feel cold as her warmth leaves with her, when she gets off the bed.

  “I hate errands,” she grumbles, and her head does its little jerk, while heading to the fridge.

  Right on cue, we hear the basement door unlock and we both sprint to kneeling.

  He quietly strolls up to Tavin and runs his fingertips along her body and kisses her head.

  “Come now, Plaything.”

  I wink at Tavin and I follow him up the stairs.

  I’ve been smoking quite a bit lately. I like it, and if it bothers Tavin, she hasn’t said anything. The taste of tobacco coats my tongue as I look out over all the little buildings on the ground, and the jet engine lulls me into my thoughts.

  I know I’m changing when it comes to Morgan. I don’t want to hurt her, it just doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. She drives me mad. She’s been with Logan since before me and Tavin, and she still doesn’t do what is expected of her.

  “Please, Toben! Please, I know you don’t want this! Please, stop!” Her screams are like a drill in my spine.

  “Fucking Christ, Morgan! I swear to God, if you don’t. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. I will cut your tongue out myself!”

  Logan throws his head back and laughs. “Oh, Plaything, you are exquisite, but no. No, you won’t.”

  Logan’s voice snaps me back to the jet.

  “I have a surprise for you, come here.”

  Sitting next to him, I see a tray with three powdered white lines. I’ve seen Scarface, I know what cocaine is. He sticks a rolled up hundred in a nostril, and with a harsh inhale, one of the lines disappears. The
second line is gone in the same fashion. He sniffs and rubs his nose before handing me the hundred.

  Leaning down, I inhale deeply as a jolt runs through my body like lightning.

  “Whoa!”

  He laughs and smiles at me. This is completely different from the weed or the heroin. I can do anything I set my mind to. I want to have fun, I want to blare the radio and dance with Tavin until we can’t stand anymore. I grin back at Logan. I still hate the prick, I just feel so damn good.

  Time flies forward and we’re back home quickly. When we arrive at the house, the living room is empty. Usually at least one of her parents is out here strung out.

  On the way down the stairs, I notice Tavin isn’t kneeling. Shit! Hopefully, she’s in the bathroom. My eyes land on the heap in the bed and I try to stomp louder to wake her up.

  “Lotus, kneel!”

  Logan screams and I keep expecting her to fly out of the bed, yet she still doesn’t move. This isn’t good. He’ll make her pay for this, and me as well.

  “KNEEL!”

  A small shift in the blankets lets me know she has heard him, so something’s wrong. My heart starts to pound so loud I can feel it in my wrist. I turn to warn Logan, and he’s already storming to her bed, ripping off the blanket. He is in my way so that’s all I can see.

  His voice takes on an almost compassionate tone. Not something often heard from him. “Oh, Lotus… What happened?”

  Making my way around him, I see what is affecting his demeanor. She’s beaten to a bloody pulp. Logan’s question had to have been rhetorical, because it’s obvious who did this.

  “Daddy.” Her voice is barely understandable.

  Her father has never hurt her this bad, at least not since I’ve known her. Depending on how you look at it, not even Logan has abused her to this degree. While he will cut, burn, rape and beat her, she’s always able to move after, even if it is strained at times.