NEVERLAND

by Melissa Jane

  We grappled, punched and kicked, hoping the other didn’t gain the upper hand. My father wrapped his meaty paw around my throat and I swung, slapping his face, desperate for air. It didn’t work. Instead, my head was thrown into the drywall. The world didn’t spin like I thought it would. Time just seemed to stand still, the only thing moving was the pain that traveled throughout my entire body.

  I clawed, drawing more blood from his cheek but he wasn’t about to let go. In the struggle, my fingers fell over something smooth and I hoped and prayed it was a healthy piece of broken bottle. It was. Gripping it so tight, I drew my own blood and went for the arm he used to hold me, dragging the sharpest edge through his flesh. As it tore, he roared in pain. Blood cascaded out at a horrifying rate. It coated me, him, the floor, the walls from the all the thrashing, like something out of a horror film. I turned to the side and vomited, the foul smell and taste of rust consuming my senses. My father reeled back cradling his arm, attempting to wrap it with his torn shirt. When that wasn’t enough, he started a crawl toward the kitchen.

  I needed to get out of this hell and now was my chance. Leaning over, I stroked my mom’s unrecognizable face. “Mom, please wake up.” When she didn’t respond, I kept trying, shaking her until she roused. To my relief, she murmured but still didn’t move. “Come on, get up.” When she didn’t, I rose onto my haunches and rolled Mom onto her back, hooking my arms through hers. If she wasn’t going to wake up, I had to drag her. She was only a little thing, maybe even half my size. I dragged her through the mess of blood and gore and passed the kitchen where my dad had his back to us.

  Once we were out on the front porch, I scooped her up in my arms. Losing my balance, I stumbled against the railing but adrenaline and determination to escape had kicked back in, like a mother lifting a car to free her baby. I wasn’t going to allow that monster to hurt us anymore. I wobbled down the stairs, taking each one carefully, and then on shaky knees I carried my limp mother down the street. It would have been something out of a horror scene each time we passed under a street lamp, its light revealing two bodies covered in wounds and thick, dark blood. When I arrived outside Romeo’s house, I stood, no longer able to will my legs to move. With tears spilling down my cheeks, adrenaline wore off and I felt the weight of everything. Falling to my knees on the front lawn, I lowered my mother down and cried. I didn’t even know if she were still alive.

  A screen door creaked open and I heard the Spanish murmurs from afar. Mr. Sanchez was the first to arrive, scooping my mother up into his arms and rushing her inside. Mrs. Sanchez and Romeo helped me to my feet, and with an arm on either side carried my weight into the house.

  I wasn’t a spiritual person, but if angels existed, the Sanchezes were them.

  ~~~

  Mr. Daniels placed the test paper on my desk and slid it slowly toward me with two rigid fingers. I didn’t need to look in his eyes to see the hurtful mix of disappointment and pity. I also didn’t need to read the red C- to know I was lucky to scrape through with a pass.

  “This is unlike you, Lucy,” he said, concerned. No doubt Mr. Daniels, my English teacher, had heard the rumors. Word spread around this town and my family was always the topic of gossip around dinner tables.

  “I’m sorry,” was all I could offer.

  “Lucy, you don’t need to apologize. See me after class so we can chat about you attending tutorials. Your scholarship depends on it.”

  “Don’t bother,” Cameron Clayton commented from my left. “Can’t you see she’s been cutting?” His ignorant comment caused a ripple of giggles throughout the class.

  Shakespeare’s Hamlet flew past my face, smacking Cameron across the cheek. “Shut the—”

  “Mr. Sanchez,” Daniels barked, his finger raised in warning. “Some people find themselves in trouble, some people are trouble. Don’t find yourself as the latter.”

  Aware of all the stares after Cameron’s comment, I moved my hands to my lap to hide the numerous red cuts marring my pale skin. I was covered in the jagged pattern like I’d taken on a barb-wired fence at night, and I had my father to thank for it.

  “You’re just upset we’re studying Hamlet and not Romeo and Juliet, isn’t that right… Romeo?” Cameron provoked.

  Unperturbed, Romeo fired back. “You’re just upset because your dumbass doesn’t know the difference between Hamlet and Romeo, Culo.”

  “That’s enough,” Mr. Daniels bellowed, effectively hushing the class. “Romeo is right. I wouldn’t be so smug, Cameron.” A test paper slid in front of my obnoxious neighbor. “You earned yourself a big fat F, so it looks like tutorials are compulsory for you.”

  Once again, the students giggled and Mr. Daniels didn’t stop them. For that I was grateful. It took the heat off me for a moment in time, heat I’d been feeling ever since I walked through the school hall covered in cuts, bruises and a black eye. It wasn’t like the other students weren’t used to it. But this time, I was broken-spirited and that was something they’d never seen before.

  Principal Rosser’s voice boomed through the loudspeaker, startling us all. “Lucy Sommers, to my office. Lucy Sommers to my office.”

  Romeo seemed to share my unease. “Wait for me at our usual spot, Lucy,” he insisted.

  “Best you take your bag,” Mr. Daniels said, suggesting he knew what this was about.

  With my head down, I made my way to the door, ignoring the pitying stares. It seemed I was making a habit of walking these halls alone, and it seemed the whole school was starting to know my name courtesy of the amount of times it was broadcasted over loudspeaker. I greeted Mrs. Seymore at the front desk with a small smile, who returned one of sympathy. I didn’t want anyone’s sympathy. I wanted to be invisible to everyone except Romeo Sanchez.

  “Lucy,” Principal Rosser’s voice greeted me. “Come on in.” He stood aside to let me pass before following me in and sitting behind his desk. Rosser studied me for quite some time, eyes assessing the latest damage to my face and body, and then rested on my fidgeting fingers.

  “How’s home?” he finally asked, and I almost laughed. Unless he saw me as a street brawler, it seemed like a ridiculous question.

  “I think it’s obvious.”

  He gave a slow nod, his long brown forefinger tapping his knee in contemplation. “I’m not gonna beat around the bush, Lucy. Your recent injuries have sparked great concern amongst your teachers and peers. Code of conduct states that the condition of your welfare must be reported if it’s deemed to be putting you in harm’s way. I, as well as everyone else, can clearly see that’s the case.”

  I nodded. I couldn’t change what happened or how people saw me. “So, what now?”

  He looked remorseful because whatever he was about to say was going to have a tidal wave of repercussions. “Child services have been notified as well as the police, and they’ll be conducting an investigation into the abuse that appears to be taking place within your household.”

  I nodded again because what else could I do? My father deserved everything he got and if that meant he did some time, then so be it. It’s not like he ever provided for the family in any way.

  He leaned forward onto the desk and interlaced his fingers. “You seem very calm about it, Lucy.”

  “What will they do?’

  Rosser heaved a sigh. “Well… someone from child services will come and see you. I recommended the meeting take place at school. He or she will ask you some questions about an average night in the Sommers’ household. They may take photos of your injuries and get you seen to by a doctor. They will ask about your father’s behavior and his treatment toward you and your mother. That sort of thing.”

  “Will they tell my parents that they’ve talked to me?”

  “Possibly. I can’t promise you they won’t. I will insist that they don’t, but I’m no expert in the matter.”

  I looked down at my white knuckles as I knitted my fingers tightly together.

  “Lucy, do you have someplace safe you
can stay?”

  “I’m staying with Romeo and his family.”

  Rosser nodded, pulling his thoughts together. “I think that’s the best option for now, Lucy. That boy would do just about anything for you.”

  ~~~

  If it hadn’t been for Mrs. Sanchez, my mother would most likely have died. Mrs. Sanchez had taken the time off work to keep a bedside vigil and nurse Mom back to health. It was late the following night after my father’s rampage when she finally opened her eyes. Beneath the bruises and wounds, her skin was deathly pale and sallow. Mom turned to the side and vomited twice, Mrs. Sanchez helping me clean up the mess without complaint. She’d done a beautiful job in repairing my mother’s face, sutures perfectly lined to reduce scarring, and there wasn’t a spot of dried blood to be found.

  The next morning before school, we helped her out of bed so she could stretch her muscles, her body frail and weak. She’d turned forty almost two months ago, yet she looked like a seventy-year-old woman, years of abuse finally catching up to her. My mother remained silent, almost like the words had been knocked clean out of her by my father’s drunken fist. There was never a thank you for Mrs. Sanchez’s help. There was never a kind word extended to a family who’d saved her life. There wasn’t even recognition that I was there. I watched as she restlessly fidgeted, her hands trembling. My mother was officially lost in her own world. What I didn’t know at the time, was that world was still controlling her and the poor decisions she made.

  I had attended school knowing my mom was in good hands and because I was only allowed a certain amount of days off to qualify for the scholarship. After being called to Mr. Rosser’s office and meeting Romeo in our usually spot, Romeo did everything to take my mind off things.

  “Whose skull does Hamlet discover in the churchyard?” Romeo asked, angling his paper so I could see the answers. We were walking home from school, with extra questions Mr. Daniels had given Romeo to help me.

  “The former court jester,” I replied.

  “Where does the ghost appear during the play?”

  “Gertrude’s bedchamber. Hamlet can see it, but she can’t and she considers him mad.”

  “Look at you, elaborating and shit,” Romeo teased, gently nudging me with his elbow. “How did Claudius murder King Hamlet?”

  “He poured poison in Hamlet’s ear so he can take the throne and marry the queen.”

  “See…” Romeo said, stuffing the paper in his bag, “… you’ve got this. You’ll top the class for sure.” His gaze moved to his front door where his mother stood expectantly, arms folded tightly across her chest. “What’s going on?” he asked more to himself.

  We walked the last fifty odd steps in silence.

  “Miho, go inside,” Mrs. Sanchez ordered her son, and he obliged but not before throwing me a look of support. When the screen door closed, Mrs. Sanchez pulled me into her arms and held me tight. She kissed the top of my head before stepping back to see my face.

  “Your mother has left, carina.” There was a deep sadness in her eyes. I wanted to tell her that feeling anything for my family was a waste of time. But then I realized she wasn’t feeling for them. She was feeling for me.

  “Where’d she go?”

  “I went to the pharmacy for more pain relief and when I came back, she was gone. Mrs. Schumaca said she spotted your mother stumbling back around the block and into your house using anything she could reach to keep her upright.”

  “She went back to my father?” In any other situation, I wouldn’t been surprised, but given the shocking level of violence she’d just experienced, I was blown away at how quickly she returned to him. He’d almost destroyed her and she just went running back into his arms.

  Mrs. Sanchez nodded. “I’m sorry, Lucy. Your mother isn’t mentally well. I can only help her physically.”

  “I know, and you’ve been more than generous with your time. I guess I should go get my things and—”

  She gripped my arm, stopping me from moving. “Lucy, you’re not going anywhere, especially not back to that house.”

  I appreciated the sentiment, but with my mother having gone home, she’d most likely tell my father where she’d been. “What if he comes looking for me? All of you will be at risk.”

  I saw a glimmer of pity in her eyes because she knew the answer before she even asked. “Do you really think he will?”

  Exhaling heavily, I let the weight of the world lift slightly off my shoulders before it fell back upon me. “No. He wouldn’t care if I were dead. But still, when he’s been drinking, who knows what he’s capable of.”

  ~~~

  “Mom says you’re staying here indefinitely,” Romeo offered while we lay on our side facing each other up in Neverland.

  “She’s an angel.”

  “Yeah, she’s a pretty cool mom.” His eyes widened a little with horror. “Shit, I’m sorry, Lucy. I don’t mean to point stuff out like that. I just mean, it’s cool you get to have her as a mom, too, you know?”

  I covered his hand with mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to sugar-coat anything for me. I can handle it. My family is fucked up.”

  He raised his brows for emphasis. “Real fucked up!”

  I laughed because what else could I do? I stopped crying over spilled milk years ago. “See, it’s funnier when you don’t sugar-coat.” I winced with pain, the sudden motion from laughing tearing at my stitches.

  “Show me.” Romeo lifted onto one elbow and pulled up the corner of my shirt to just below my breasts. His fingers ran softly down my waist causing my skin to deliciously tingle all over. I wasn’t used to touch that brought pleasure, but from him, I’d take it any day. He stopped just shy of the wound on my left hip which his mother had carefully repaired. There’d still been a shard of broken beer bottle tangled in the flesh when I’d collapsed on their front lawn. Mrs. Sanchez said I must have fallen onto the glass and twisted while trying to escape causing it to rip into the shape it did.

  “Just another ugly reminder of how fucked up my family is.”

  Romeo shook his head. “No, it’s not a reminder. How could it be? It’s gonna be beautiful. A beautiful scar for a beautiful girl. A perfect heart shape.”

  Chapter 12

  NOW

  I didn’t sleep.

  That made it seventy-two hours since I last closed my eyes. They felt swollen and sore, a combination of crying, fatigue, cigar smoke, and… him.

  A perfect heart shape.

  Xavier had brought on a wave of memories, and along with them, heartache. They were the last words he said to me before I was pulled from his lap, Dominic’s jealousy finally reaching its breaking point. He’d encouraged the men to indulge in me, yet jealousy ate away at him like a cancer until he was forced to excuse us from the meeting and get me as far away from Xavier as possible.

  Although we’d walked to the door, hand in hand, Dominic squeezed so tight I thought he’d snap my fingers. The drive home was a silent one. While I fought the urge to be sick, the car’s motion nursing waves of nausea, Dominic used his thumb and forefinger to stroke his jaw, lost in contemplation.

  “What did he say to you?” he finally asked what was on his mind.

  “Nothing.” I had no intention of sharing any more of my past with Dominic Salvatore.

  Although he was unconvinced, Dominic didn’t press the issue. When the SUV pulled up outside my apartment building, Dominic escorted me up, ensuring I made it to my door. Standing in the threshold, I’d blocked him from entering. He didn’t seem too concerned. Instead, I was seeing a very different emotion from him. One that was both difficult to read, and truly frightening. It was calculated, cold and detached. But why? It was unlike him and that was the scariest part.

  “I want to go to bed,” I said, keeping my eyes glued to the second button of his shirt.

  He didn’t respond but his eyes were still drilling deep gouges all the way to my soul. I shifted uncomfortably until I braved closing the door on
him. His flat palm stopped it from closing even a few inches.

  “You wanted to fuck him,” he said in a calm, collected tone.

  I swallowed hard. “What are you talking about?” Dominic pushed the door back so hard, it smashed against the wall. “What are you doing?” I knew his silence would fester into something to be feared. With his hand flat on my chest, Dominic sent me stumbling back until I fell on the sofa, him on top of me.

  “Tell me how much you wanted to fuck him, Lucy.” He breathed heavy, pinning my hands above my head.

  “I didn’t, I swear,” I stated while raising my hips to get him off me. Dominic was a handsome man, dark and striking, but when he was like this, those dark and striking features became reflections of his possessed soul

  “I saw how you were with him, Lucy, so don’t lie to me. You wanted to fuck him, and it was only a room full of people that stopped you.”

  “No, that’s not true,” I cried. “I was only doing what you told me to do.”

  Holding both wrists with one hand, he ran the other between my legs, his fingers slipping into my panties. I was done taking on the humiliation every time he assaulted me. So instead, I faced him with a stoicism he didn’t expect.

  “I may have told you, Lucy, but…” his mouth grazed mine, “… this little pussy of yours was wanting something it’s never had.”

  Dominic rubbed my clit, soft at first, then adding pressure. I squirmed under his touch, fighting the sensations he caused. My senses were already heightened from both Xavier and whatever drug Momma G had given, but I was about to let Dominic win by taking control of my body’s reactions. His knee spread my legs open, allowing a finger to slide inside.