Ruin: The El Diablo Chronicles

by Autumn Sand

  I knew that clinic was never going to be the answer to my problems. How could it, if I couldn’t tell the truth? Who would believe me if I did? At the clinic, I was so closely monitored I knew I couldn’t run away. My only chance would be to assimilate back into normal behavior and maybe gain my freedom. I learned how to trick the doctors into believing I was well enough to go home.

  When I arrived that day, my mother was out with the baby and the Bishop was home. The moment I looked into his eyes, I knew. I knew I would be receiving a visit that night. I sat in my room, watching the hours tick by as fear consumed me. Perhaps I was better off at the clinic. I wouldn’t be able to survive another rape. That’s when I knew. A hate had built inside of me that became part of me, and it got stronger with each passing second.

  Moni brought me a tray of food that afternoon and she sat with me, brushing my hair as I ate my sandwich. She spoke to me gently, because I think she saw something in me had changed. Every now and then, she would ask me if I was all right. Each and every time I said I was, but I wasn’t. I knew it and she knew it—I was fooling no one, not even myself.

  Would she help me if I asked? I’d wondered to myself and felt I couldn’t risk it.

  Tallie, you are all alone in this world. God never gives you more than you can bear.

  Later that night, as I lay in my bed awake, I cried as the time ticked by. I knew it was getting closer to the time for him to crawl into my bed again. When the bedroom door finally opened, slowly, I saw a figure in the doorway. I balled myself into a knot on my bed, willing myself to disappear.

  Dear God, please don’t let him see me.

  I knew I was being childish for thinking that way. There was never any hiding from the Bishop.

  The figure walked over to my bed and when a hand reached out and touched my shoulder, I screamed. But the hand cupped my mouth.

  “Shh,” Moni says.

  “Wh-what?” I sit up, confused, looking around her for the Bishop.

  “Come on, we ain’t got no time. You have to go.”

  “G-go? Go where? Moni, wh—?”

  “No time for that. You got to leave this house and never come back. You hear me? Don’t you ever come back here.” She throws clothes at me to put on and quickly gathers a few items.

  “But where am I going to go?” I cry as I quickly dress.

  “My brother, he waiting for you on the other side of the gate. He’ll take you as far as North Carolina.” She reaches into her bosom and hands me a wad of cash. “Take that. It should be enough to get you by until you get settled.”

  She reaches out to zip up my backpack but I stop her. “Moni, thank you.” My gratitude is immense and I don’t know how else to express it.

  “Thank me by leaving and never coming back. This place here is your past, Tallahassee. You have a future to live for.” She kisses me on top of my head and then zips up the backpack.

  We rush out of my room and the house is dark and quiet.

  “Wait,” I tell her as she begins down the steps. I turn towards the nursery, knowing I’m taking a risk, but I have to do it. Peeking my head in, I see my son for the first time since giving birth to him. He lay in his crib, asleep.

  For the first time, I want to hold him, I want to be his mother. I want so many things, but I know I can’t be any of those things with him. I know it’s impossible to take him with me when I barely know how to survive myself. So instead, I watch him, silently promising I would come back to get him.

  Now, here I am, ten years later, standing in front of my son’s door, just as I did so many years ago, finally fulfilling my promise. Raymond was right, I would know what to do when the time comes.

  I open the door and his green eyes turn to see me standing in the doorway. First, there’s confusion and then a smile spreads. He drops his Bible and runs into my arms.

  “You came, you came! Moni always told me to pray for your return.”

  Pray for my return? Does he know? I hug my son to my chest and the dam that held back my tears breaks, flooding me and baptizing him. To hold my son in my arms is to hold life. I’m finally alive, with a purpose to live.

  I want to look at him, but I want to hold him. I battle my thoughts but the need to look at him prevails. Stepping back and wiping the tears from my eyes, I say, “I’ve waited a very long time to see you again.”

  “Me too. Moni promised that one day you would take me away.” He smiles and I see the Bishop in his face.

  “Are you all right?” I reach out to stroke his red hair.

  “Bishop and Mom are away.”

  And I knew then this was not a happy home for him. How much did Moni tell him? Does he know I am his mother?

  “There is so much I want to talk about but we don’t have much time.” I stroke the side of his face. How many times did I wish my mother would show me affection? How many times was the affection I craved met with a slap to the face? Affection was an elusive beast in this house, never to be tamed.

  “Where are we going?” he asks, placing his hand in mine.

  “New York. Will that be all right?” I hug him again. I need this, I need to feel him in my arms.

  “Yes.” He sounds so sure of his future; I wish I could feel the same.

  “Anything you want to take with you?” I look around his room. It has plain white walls, with blue damask drapes with gold trimming. Nothing like what I would’ve imagined for him.

  “I don’t have any toys.” He looks down at his feet.

  No need to ask why the Bishop would’ve never allowed toys in this house. An idle child is a sinful one, he often would say.

  “How about I promise to buy you whatever toys you want?”

  “Oh boy, that would be cool.” He smiles, showing a missing tooth.

  My heart pangs—so many things I missed with him. So many birthdays, holidays, and lost teeth, I missed it all. They took that from me. Then I hear a familiar voice downstairs.

  “Moni, what is going on? Who are these people?”

  Junior pushes his head into my shoulder and I stroke his back tenderly. “Don’t worry. Nothing will stop me from taking you with me.” I hold his face in my hands. “Look at me. I promise you. You are safe, no one will hurt you again.”

  His fear gives me the strength to do what I’ve always known what I must do—claim my place as his mother and take my son away from this hell.

  I grip his hand firmly, and we leave his bedroom, walking down the long, winding staircase. My mother stands below, talking to Raymond and Chicken. Raymond catches sight of me and gives me a smile. My mother’s eyes drift to what has caught his attention.

  With narrowed eyes, she walks towards the bottom landing. “What are you doing here and what are you doing with my son?”

  Not knowing if Junior is aware I am his mother, I choose not to tell her to go to hell and that I am taking my goddamn son with me. Instead, I kiss the top of his head, once again reassuring him everything is okay. “Go to Moni,” I tell him.

  He looks at me and then to Moni, who is standing off to the side, with two small bags packed. She opens her arms for him. He bypasses my mother when Raymond prevents her from grabbing him and runs to Moni, who quickly takes him outside.

  “What is the meaning of this? Where are you taking my son?”

  “Don’t you mean, my son?” My tone is even.

  She laughs in my face and I slap hers. The shock is quick as her eyes widen at the action.

  That felt better than I could’ve ever imagined. I slap the other side cheek, and she stumbles backward in her heels.

  “I should’ve done that a long time ago,” I angrily spit.

  “Where is Charles?” She holds the side of her face.

  “In hell, where he should’ve been all of these years.” I glare at her, ready to send her to meet him.

  “What?” She looks at me and then to Chicken. “What have you done with my husband?”

  She gets no reply and that’s when it dawns on her. She drops to
her knees and wails like a banshee.

  “You killed another husband. What you gonna do? Kill Junior, just like you killed your baby brother?” She utters the part of my past she knows can cripple me, like kryptonite to Superman.

  It was the one thing she would always say to make me fall in line. But not this time.

  “How?” I take a step back and look down at her kneeling on the floor. “I was three years old, Mother. How did I kill them? Huh? How?”

  “Your fault. Always your fault,” she yells bitterly.

  “For wanting ice cream?!” I snap.

  “If he didn’t stop at that store because of you, he wouldn’t have been there when they…they…” Her words drift to the past.

  “Say it. He wouldn’t have been there when they robbed the store and killed him. You never forgave me for that day. You’ve always hated me for it, haven’t you?”

  Her face is red and contorted by her grief. “You took everything away. Your fault. Your fault I miscarried our son. Your fault I couldn’t carry any more children.” Her fists repeatedly punch into her gut, as if willing a child to be there again.

  “What else is my fault?” I hover over her like a shadow, dwarfing her. “Say it.”

  Her eyes lift to meet mine and there is nothing but hatred in them. “You stole Charles from me.”

  I storm over to the table that holds the package, picking it up and taking it out of the box. I return to my mother still kneeling on the floor. As I hold the toy bank above my head, she shrieks, thinking I’m going to throw it at her. Instead, I drop it to the ground with so much force it shatters, spreading out all of the quarters on the ground, mixed with the ceramic fragments.

  I stoop down beside her. “Count them,” I demand. She looks at me in confusion, her bottom lip trembling. “Go ahead and count them. Don’t want to? Fine, I’ll tell you. There are two thousand and forty-three quarters. I’ve counted those quarters every single day since the first time he gave me one. The last time I counted it was yesterday morning.”

  Carefully, I push them towards her. I no longer have any use for them. This is her legacy, not mine. “Do you know what they are for?”

  Her eyes stare at the quarters before looking to me again. I wait for a response I know I’ll never receive.

  “Bishop gave me a quarter for each time I was a ‘good girl,’” I say, using air quotes.

  “N-no. Y-you’re lying,” she stammers, though she knows it’s the truth.

  My response is to rise and walk towards Raymond.

  Chicken leads the way to the door before she says, “I-I didn’t know it was that many times. I swear, I didn’t know. I-I thought…”

  The door slams behind us before she finishes the sentence, forever closing an old chapter of my life.

  “Raymond, where are we going?” Tallie asks for what must be the hundredth time.

  Junior and I both laugh as she constantly looks out of the window in hopes of figuring out our destination.

  “Told you, this is a family outing.” Never thought those words would ever leave my mouth. Family and outing are two words that are very foreign to me, but I find myself content with when it comes to these two.

  The Escalade slows down and eventually parks. Chicken opens the passenger door and holds his hand out for Tallie to take. She stands outside with a very confused expression on her face as Junior and I walk up next to her.

  “Raymond, what the hell?” She turns around in exasperation. “This is the hood.”

  I nod. “Yep, sure is.” I grab her hand and we begin to walk, with Junior and Chicken bringing up the rear.

  “But why?” She looks behind her to make sure her son is within a safe distance.

  “I grew up here,” I say, my tone matter-of-fact.

  She stops and looks at me. “You did? Oh my god, honey.”

  “I brought you here, not just for a walk down memory lane, but there is something I want to do. Something I should’ve done a long time ago.” We stop in front of a house.

  She looks at the house and then back to me. “And what would that be?”

  I take in a deep breath, smelling the familiar aromas of home. “I pretty much haven’t seen my family since my mother’s death. I cut them off when I got into this lifestyle. Manny felt it was time I got over my self-imposed exile.” I look over to Junior and Chicken. “I think I need to do this for us. A man without roots is a man without a future,” I say.

  She points to the door—children have already started poking their heads through the windows. “Your family lives here? Why didn’t you prepare me? I’m not dressed approp—”

  I lean and kiss her.

  “Oooooh,” one of my little cousins says from the now-open door.

  Tallie lowers her head in a blush. Manny steps outside with Kenny.

  “’Bout time, bro. Y’all get lost?” Manny steps down and hugs Tallie, then rubs Junior’s hair. “Hey. The kids are anxious to meet their newest cousin.”

  Junior looks to Tallie for permission, and she nods before he runs inside the house. Kenny hugs Tallie, the two of them having become fast friends over the months.

  “Can you believe it? The first-time mom’s boys are back together again, at the same time, with the family.”

  “I just wish Ray would’ve told me what was going on.” Tallie laughs as she climbs the steps with Kenny.

  “You good with this?” Manny asks.

  I look at my future meeting my past and I know I’ve found my way home again.

  “Yeah,” I reply. “More than good.”

  The End.

  Whew, what a journey. The book that almost never was, Ruin, shall forever be that book for me. Those of you who have been following me for some time, know that Ruin was supposed to have been out since December of 2017. Obviously, that didn’t happen and here we are, Spring of 2019, and I’m just now typing those beautiful words “The End.” So, let me apologize to the readers who’ve been looking for this book since 2017.

  Let me give you some backstory about how and why Ruin. As some of you know, when I wrote Impact, which was the final book for the Twisted Hearts series, I said that was the end of it. I felt I took the characters as far as I could go. When Tallie was initially introduced in Mayhem, she was supposed to be a one-and-done character. What do you say? Mayhem, umm, excuse me, Ms. Sand, you must be mistaken, she was introduced in Bedlam.

  Ahh, technically you’re right and wrong. The first time I released Bedlam, Tallie was not a character. She was initially introduced in Mayhem. But when I rewrote Bedlam, I introduced her again. Anyway, when I gave her more lines in Impact, I thought it might be fun to explore her more. Why was she such a bitch? What made her tick? (ha, get the joke?) Plus, I kind of liked the idea of exploring how ruthless El Diablo could be, so there you go—Ruin was born that quickly.

  I couldn’t tell you how many rewrites I did for Ruin. What I can say, it went in a totally different direction than the initial intent. The book went a lot darker than I thought it would be. To be honest, this book was never supposed to have a happy ending. My PA, Becky Hensley, is the one who talked me into giving you a lighter ending because of all the strong content in the book. And I have to admit, she was right.

  As always, I want you to know I never write any of these tough subject matters easily. I try to give the characters and their situation the utmost respect because this is more than just fiction, these things happen to real people in real life. This is just my small way of bringing some awareness and to let people know that there is a way to a path of healing.

  If you know a child who is being sexually abused, I urge you to call 9-1-1 right away. Below is a list of some organizations who are committed to helping abused children.

  American Professional Society on the Abuse of Children

  1706 E. Broad Street

  Columbus, Ohio 43203

  Phone: (614) 827-1321

  Toll-Free: (877) 402-7722

  Fax: (614) 251-6005

  Email: ap
sac@apsac.org

  http://www.apsac.org

  * * *

  American Psychological Association

  750 First Street, NE

  Washington, District of Columbia 20002

  Phone: (202) 336-5500

  Toll-Free: (800) 374-2721

  https://www.apa.org/

  * * *

  Annie E. Casey Foundation

  701 St. Paul Street

  Baltimore, Maryland 21202

  Phone: (410) 547-6600

  Fax: (410) 547-6624

  * * *

  http://www.aecf.org

  https://www.facebook.com/AnnieECaseyFndn?ref=ts

  https://twitter.com/aecfnews

  http://www.youtube.com/user/AnnieECaseyFound

  Forbidden

  Tales of Passion, Lust, & Betrayal Vol. 1

  Coming Soon!

  Neria

  “Ah, I see you’ve all made it. Welcome to Club Forbidden. Please, step this way and follow me. Oops, be careful of that step. Now, there we are. Have a seat, cocktails will be delivered…whoops! The drinks are here. I hope you all like champagne. We will be drinking plenty of that today as we go through the events. But before we get started… Umm, excuse me. Sir? Yes, you over there, with the purple-and-blue striped tie. There are no cell phones on the premises. I’m afraid we’ll have to ask you to hand that over to the gentleman standing to your left. Yes, him. Thank you.

  “If you can just be seated, I’ll go over the rules with you all. My name is Neria and I’ll be your guide today. If you have any questions or problems, please don’t hesitate to ask. This tour is designed to titillate you and your partner, and open the doors of your imagination. I guarantee you’ll be set free sexually when you leave the doors of Forbidden behind.

  “Sorry, no smoking. Thank you. Where were we?

  “Oh yes, the rules. We try not to have too many rules at Forbidden, since rules can be hampering on the soul. But one rule I’m afraid we must enforce is what happens at Club Forbidden must remain within the club’s doors. We can’t have all our secrets out there, can we? No, we can’t—not everyone is as open and free as we are. As you already know, the selection process is quite long to get in here and you should consider yourselves the lucky few. There will be ten doors that you’ll walk into, and each time, you’ll come out a little different from it.