Twelve Years

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Twelve Years Page 5

by S. L. Adams


  “Of fuck,” he groans. He grabs the back of my head, pulling me in close as he crushes his lips against mine. His other hand grips my hip, holding my squirmy body still as thrusts his erection against me.

  My entire body is on fire, my pussy clenching with a burning need to have that dick inside it. I’ve never been dry humped before. Arousal and need overwhelm my senses. I whimper softly when he pulls his lips away and stops grinding into me.

  “I want you, baby doll,” he whispers, our eyes locked in a heated stare. “But not here. Not like this. When I make love to you for the first time, we will be in a bed where I can take my time and spend a whole night pleasuring you.” He smiles before planting a chaste kiss on my nose.

  “Thanks for the temporary distraction,” I say as I climb off him and return to my seat.

  “I hope I’m more than a distraction,” he says, sticking his lower lip out in a fake pout as he buckles his seat belt and starts the car.

  “Of course you are, Alex. That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know, sweetheart.” He flashes me a sexy smile. “Have you ever eaten at that steakhouse?”

  “No.”

  “I love steak. Medium rare. It’s got to be close to still mooing. My mom thinks it disgusting, but that’s how I like it.” He chuckles. “How about you? Are you a well done girl?”

  “I don’t know.” I clear my throat, returning my gaze to the passenger window.

  “What do you mean?”

  I stare down at hands, picking at my chipped purple nail polish. “I’ve never had a steak.”

  “What!” He glances over at me, shock radiating from his face.

  “We couldn’t afford to eat out.”

  “Didn’t your boyfriend ever take you out for dinner?”

  “Occasionally. But only to fast food joints.”

  Silence envelops the car. We’re on the outskirts of Missoula now. My stomach is in knots. I know what I have to do today. My family will be torn apart. But what other choice do I have? I hate my mother for putting me in this position. Hate. A strong word to use when thinking about the woman who gave birth to me. But that is all she has ever been to me.

  “Are you ok?” Alex asks as we pull into the parking lot of the detention centre.

  “No.”

  “I will be right outside, baby doll.”

  When he opens the passenger door, I don’t move. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s get this over with.”

  How sad is it when you’re going to visit your mother and you would rather be anywhere else in the world? Pretty fucking sad. I look up at Alex. If he wasn’t here I would probably be a basket case. I climb out of the car and hug him tightly.

  “You can do this,” he whispers softly as he rubs my back in slow circles.

  I close the door and he takes my hand as we head toward the depressing concrete building that houses my drug addicted mother.

  Chapter 9

  Shelby

  The visiting area is deserted. Not surprising since it’s only nine-thirty in the morning. I take a deep breath, waiting for what promises to be a very unpleasant meeting with the woman who gave birth to me.

  I shiver. It’s cold in here. They really need to turn down the air conditioning. And use a cleaner that doesn’t smell so chemically. The only sound is the pronounced ticking of the oversized clock on the wall. Apparently, they take time very seriously at The Missoula Detention Centre, reminding me three times that I only have fifteen minutes with my mother. Like I want to visit with her any longer than necessary. And I really didn’t appreciate the pat down either.

  I sigh and glance at the clock again. They were expecting me. Why the hell isn’t she ready? A buzzer breaks the deafening silence in the large room. I watch as a female guard leads my mother to the chair on the opposite side of the glass.

  Betty Cochrane is a tiny woman. Just over five feet tall with a thin build, I would bet my mother is probably one-twenty soaking wet. The cigarettes and booze have taken their toll. And now she’s added cocaine to the mix of unhealthy habits. If I saw her as a stranger on the street, I would guesstimate her age to be about forty-five, not thirty-three. Her thin brown hair is greasy, hanging limply around her bony face.

  She picks up the phone and scowls at me through the glass. What would she do if I just got up and left? It’s tempting. There’s no sign of warmth or gratitude on her face. And I didn’t really expect there to be.

  “Hello, Mother,” I say curtly into the phone.

  “Why didn’t ya come last night?”

  “Nice to see you too,” I bite back. “It was midnight when you called me. I had to arrange a ride. And they wouldn’t have let me see you until this morning anyway.”

  “So ya didn’t come home last night and check on yer sisters?”

  “No, Mom. I told you, I had to find a ride.”

  “How did ya get here?”

  “A friend.”

  “I told the social worker yer eighteen and you’ll watch out for the kids until I get outta here. But she wants to meet with ya today. So ya better not fuck it up.”

  My heart pounds against my chest wall, stomach acid rising to the back of my throat. “I’m not staying, Mom. I only came down for the day to make arrangements for the kids. Then I’m going back to Remington’s to finish out the summer before I head to college.”

  Her gaunt face turns a deep shade of crimson, her cold blue eyes looking as though they might shoot daggers through the glass at any moment. “Excuse me?” her gruff voice growls through the phone.

  “I’m not your babysitter anymore. They aren’t my kids to raise. I deserve the chance to have a life. If you loved me like a mother should, you wouldn’t try to stand in my way.”

  “Why ya selfish little cunt,” she hisses. “After everything I’ve done for ya, that’s the thanks I get?”

  “Everything you’ve done for me?” I stare at the frail woman sitting across from me. “What exactly did you do for me other than bring me into the world?”

  “I raised ya! I must’ve done somethin right or ya wouldn’t be going to a fancy school.”

  I laugh even though I’m fighting back tears, shaking my head as I gape at her in disbelief. She’s delusional if she thinks she deserves one ounce of credit for any of my achievements. “Sure, Mom. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

  “Ya ain’t going back up to yer fancy mountain. And that’s final. Get yer ass home where ya belong.”

  “I’m going to meet with the social worker and tell her the truth. The girls will be better off in foster homes until you get out of jail and get off drugs.”

  “Are ya outta yer fuckin mind?! Ya don’t know fuck all about foster homes. I do! I grew up in them. Six different ones, all shitholes. The parents don’t give two fucks about the kids. It’s all about the money.”

  “Good bye, Mother.” I hang up the phone and push my chair back.

  She jumps out of her seat and pounds on the glass. I can’t hear the words that she’s screaming, but I can read her lips. A slew of insults and profanities. The guard hauls her away just as I reach the door. I walk through it without looking back.

  Alex doesn’t say a word until we’re back in the car. I think he’s expecting me to break down. But I don’t. My mother doesn’t deserve my tears. I’ll save them for later. For my seven little sisters who are about to have their lives torn apart. Hopefully, they will thank me someday. A foster home couldn’t possibly be any worse than living with a drug addict. At least they will have food and clothing and someone to make sure they go to school.

  When we’re back in the car he turns to me and takes my hand, squeezing it gently. “How did it go?” he asks, his tone cautious.

  “Just as I expected. I called the social worker. She’s meeting me at my house at eleven-thirty.”

  “Okay. Why don’t we grab some breakfast then?” he suggests, glancing at his watch.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  I watch Alex’s face as we follow the road
next to the railroad tracks, passing by factories and warehouses surrounded by tall, chain link fences. He glances at the GPS, his brow wrinkled.

  “Are we going the right way?” he asks.

  “Yep. You have to turn right at the next light and cross the tracks.”

  An overwhelming sense of dread and despair washes over me when we turn the corner and the complex comes into view. One hundred row houses packed tightly into the field behind a massive chemical plant, it’s towering smoke stacks billowing out a constant cloud of God knows what into the air.

  He swallows hard, rubbing his temple as he sucks in a deep breath and blows out slowly. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath.

  “Follow this road right to end and turn left. My unit is seventy-seven.”

  Alex’s eyes widen as he takes in the passing scenery. Scores of children riding bikes or splashing in inflatable pools. Mothers standing on concrete stoops outside their doors, cigarettes hanging out of their mouths.

  My stomach clenches when I see a black tow truck parked in our driveway. What the hell is he doing here? Mom is in jail, not to mention the fact that she dumped him months ago. Surely, she didn’t call him of all people, to watch her kids.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I stare at Alex, realizing that he has parked next to the curb and turned the car off. My throat is dry and constricted with fear. Sweat trickles down my back. I open my mouth but no words come out.

  “Shelby.” Alex cups my cheek, turning my head to face him. “You can do this, baby doll. It’s going to be hard, but you can do it. You know it’s the right thing to do.”

  I lick my lips, glancing at the tow truck again. Alex follows my gaze. “Who does that truck belong to? Your mom’s boyfriend?”

  “Ex boyfriend,” I reply in a gravelly voice. “He shouldn’t be here. I have to go in there right now.”

  “Don’t you want to wait for the social worker?”

  “No. Larry is a creep. He should not be alone with my sisters.”

  “Did he do something to you, Shelby?”

  “He never touched me,” I say quietly. “But he always leered at me and made suggestive comments. Not just to me. To my sister, Mindy Sue. She’s sixteen.”

  “Oh my God,” Alex’s face turns red, anger flashing in his eyes.

  “It’s ok, Alex. I can handle Larry. You should just wait out here for the social worker.”

  “Shelby, there is no way I’m letting you go in there alone.”

  “Ok, but please don't make a scene. I don’t want to upset the younger girls anymore than I have to.”

  “I will behave,” he promises, kissing the back of my hand. “You won’t even know I’m there. Unless he lays a hand on you. Then all bets are off.”

  “He won’t if you’re there. He doesn’t like people to know he’s a dirty old man.”

  I glance down the block, wishing the social worker would hurry up. Nice of her to be on time. I take a deep breath and push open the car door. Alex takes my hand, locking our fingers together as we walk up the cracked, overgrown sidewalk. The skunky smell of cheap pot hits me the second I open the front door.

  “Shelby Lynn!” My youngest sister barrels towards us, throwing herself into my arms.

  “Hey, Clara May. How the heck are you?” I lower her to the floor and hold her arms out. “Have you grown taller since I left?”

  She nods excitedly. Sadness washes over me as I look at the little girl. The amount of grease in her hair tells me it hasn’t been washed in several days. A long strand is stuck to her face by something that looks to be jam. She’s wearing a threadbare Dora nightgown and I’m guessing the bottom of her bare feet are probably filthy.

  I duck my head into the living room where my fifteen year old sister, Jenny Jane, is staring at the television. She doesn’t acknowledge my presence with so much as a glance. The room is a complete right off. Empty glasses and plates cover the coffee table. Flies buzz over something sticky on the floor.

  “Hi, Jenny Jane,” I call out.

  “Hi, Shelby Lynn,” she replies quietly without taking her eyes of the tv.

  I glance at Alex with an apologetic half smile. He’s standing awkwardly in the entryway, taking it all in. Probably wishing he was back at Remington’s.

  “Where’s Mindy Sue?” My oldest sister and I are going to have a few words. She knows better than to let the house fall apart like this when Mom’s away.

  Jenny Jane points toward the ceiling.

  “She’s in Mom’s room?”

  She nods, still not making eye contact. When she mutes the tv, she finally turns to look at me, her face twisted with disgust. My stomach rolls, threatening to return my breakfast as I listen to the sound of my mom’s mattress banging against her headboard.

  I barrel up the stairs, two at time. Not thinking it through, I charge through the closed bedroom door and skid to a stop. My sixteen year old sister is on the bed riding Larry, his huge, meaty hands digging into her hips as she begs him to fuck her harder.

  I’m rendered speechless as I stand there, my legs trembling. My body breaks out in a cold sweat. Before I have a chance to find my voice, Mindy Sue spots me.

  “Jesus, Shelby Lynn! What the fuck! You ever heard of knocking?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Well, well,” Larry sits up, not making any effort to cover himself as he tosses my sister aside. He wraps his hand around his dick, licking his lips as his eyes rake over my body. “If it isn’t Little Miss Priss. You want a turn, sweetheart?”

  I spin on my heel and run out of the room and down the stairs. The social worker is just coming through the front door. Alex takes one look at my face and immediately pulls me into his arms.

  “What happened, Shelby? Are you ok?”

  I pull back, shaking my head. I need to sit down. Sinking onto the first step of the narrow staircase, I lower my head to my knees. Alex sits next to me and wraps his arm around my shoulders. The social worker speaks quietly to Jenny Jane, asking her to gather the children and take them to the playground for a bit.

  “Are you Shelby Lynn’s boyfriend?”

  I look up to find my eleven-year old sister, Chrissy Anne staring at Alex with Her mouth hanging open.

  “Close that mouth before the flies get in,” I say, giving her a playful swat in the arm. She giggles and whispers something to her twin sister, Missy Anne. Yes. My parents failed miserably when it came to naming their children.

  “Your boyfriend is hot,” they shriek is unison as Jenny Jane herds them out the door.

  Alex chuckles. “Your sisters are cute.”

  I hear footsteps behind us on the stairs and glance up to see Mindy Sue coming down in a tight white tank top and jean cut-offs that don’t leave much to the imagination.

  “Why don’t we sit down?” the social worker suggests. “I’m Janice, by the way.”

  “Do you want me to wait in the car?” Alex whispers.

  “No,” I state firmly. I turn to Janice. “Can my friend stay? He knows what’s happening. I need him here for support.”

  “Of course, Shelby.” She smiles kindly.

  I turn to Mindy Sue. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Shelby Lynn.” She glares at me with a look that clearly demands that I keep my mouth shut about Larry.

  “Well, we aren’t doing this until he’s gone.”

  “Doing what?” she snaps.

  “Why do you think Child Protective Services is here, Mindy Sue?” I stare at her in disbelief. Is she really that dense? She’s probably high based on the fresh aroma of pot hanging in the air. Her eyes do look red and droopy now that I take a closer look. She’s definitely high.

  “Cause Mom is in jail, obviously,” she sneers.

  “Why don’t we go in the kitchen?” I suggest, hoping that Larry will sneak out. We don’t need any more drama.

  Janice follows us into the tiny kitchen at the back of the townhouse. The tab
le is covered in dirty dishes and empty soda cans.

  “Sorry,” Mindy Sue says, smiling sweetly at the social worker. “I slept in this morning. It’s usually not this messy.”

  She clears the dishes, bending over to give Alex a nice view of her breasts spilling out of her tiny tank top. “What’s your boyfriend’s name, Shelby Lynn?” she asks as she looks Alex up and down, licking her lips.

  “Sit down, Mindy Sue,” I say. “We have something serious to discuss.”

  Chapter 10

  Alex

  I lean against the door frame of Shelby’s bedroom. She’s sitting on her bed with her back to me, her shiny chestnut brown hair cascading over her slumped shoulders. I don’t know if I should stay or go back downstairs. I’m a little out of my comfort zone here. When her body shudders with a quiet sob, the answer is clear. I need to go to her. And I want to go to her. I’m truly and thoroughly fucked. She was just supposed to be a summer fling. But I’m falling fast and hard and it scares the shit out of me.

  I walk over to the bed and sit next to her, sinking into the creaky mattress as a spring digs into my ass. Jesus. How does she sleep on this thing? I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her into my side. “Hey, baby doll. You okay?”

  “I will be once I get away from here.” She smiles up at me and wipes away her tears with the back of her hand. “Sorry. I know you’re anxious to get on the road. I just want to pack a few things that I want to keep. I’m not sure when I’m coming back. And we will get evicted if Mom is in jail for a while and doesn’t pay the rent on time. This might be my only chance to grab my keepsakes and my winter clothing.”

  “Take as much time as you need,” I say as I press a kiss to the top of her head. “I talked to Blake. He doesn’t think it’s a good idea for us to head back up into the mountains tonight. It’s getting late, it’s raining pretty hard and I’m not familiar with the roads. I told him we’d be back in time for our shift tomorrow at three.”

 

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