NEVERLAND

by Melissa Jane

  Vince was like a wild animal, swinging his arms and hoping he’d strike me at least once. “Fucking bitch!” he snapped, his voice sounding somewhat nasally, indicating I had caused some damage to his nose. He went to stand, offering himself into a perfect position. I struck again, this time hitting his temple and sending him stumbling. The ceramic base broke into large pieces, but I held onto a piece offering a fatally sharp edge. In the moonlight, I could just make out both his hands were holding his broken face.

  “She’s five years old, asshole!”

  The room illuminated but it wasn’t me who flicked the switch. I was horrified by the amount of blood pouring from between Vince’s fingers. It was an endless river and it dripped from his hands and onto the carpet. That wasn’t good!

  “What the fuck is going on here?” Uncle Brian bellowed at me like I was the one in the wrong. He reminded me of angry cartoon characters who turned a furious shade of red with steam billowing from their ears. Except this was reality, and his fury resembled that of my father, and I knew all too well how those nights ended.

  “He crept into Jillian’s bed,” I spat back, angry he even had to ask. The fact that Vince was even in the kids’ bedroom was bad enough. “He held his hand over her mouth and pulled the cover off her.”

  “She’s fucking lying,” Vince interjected, blood spraying from his mouth. “There was a noise, so I came in to see if they were all right and then this bitch clocked me with fuck knows what. Twice!”

  I turned my fury back to him. “You’re lying! You were in her bed.”

  “Ask her then, go on,” he challenged.

  “Jillie,” Uncle Brian said sternly. “Get out from the under the bed.” There was no movement. “Now!”

  There was a brief scuffle and a teary-eyed Jillian emerged, her small body trembling as she looked timidly at all the angry adults.

  “Did Uncle Vince hurt you?” her father asked.

  If I’d been asked like that, I’d lie too. His tone was one not to be messed with even if what you said was the truth.

  “Did he?”

  Her round, terrified eyes met mine and then I saw the tell-tale sign. Urine started running down her leg. “No,” she said in a small voice.

  I didn’t blame Jillian. She was terrified of the two men in front of her and telling the truth would only end her in more trouble, because that’s how these situations worked. The only blessing was that his attempt this time had been thwarted.

  Uncle Brian left the room, his boots stomping down the hall. I was left with Vince-the-pedophile and three terrified children. When he made to leave, I waved the sharp ceramic piece at him until I heard Uncle Brian’s footsteps returning to the bedroom. He rounded the corner, a shotgun in his hands and instead of aiming it at the creep who’d tried to molest his daughter, the bastard aimed it at me, straight at my head.

  What the hell?

  I swallowed hard, realizing there was no way to talk him around. No way to make him see he was targeting the wrong person. And now I could die for protecting his daughter, something he should have been doing.

  “There’s a reason why your father treated you the way he did,” he snarled, preparing to cut deep to the bone. “‘Cause he fucking hated you and your whore of a mother.”

  “She wasn’t a whore,” I seethed because how dare he. Not only was he defending a molester, he was defending his brother who’d brutally murdered his own wife. I was in trouble. My only allies were three five-year-old kids, and they were too scared to tell the truth.

  “Like mother like daughter. And guess what?” Uncle Brian stepped closer, his finger on the trigger. “I fuckin’ don’t like you either, coming into my house and upsettin’ it the way you have. So I’m gonna give you all of ten seconds to pack your shit and get the fuck outta my house. You gettin’ the words comin’ outta my mouth?” He pressed the barrel against my forehead, his eyes narrowing. “Or, do I need to show my kids here how we deal with the people we don’t like?”

  Swallowing bile, I shook my head.

  He smirked as he counted. “Ten, nine…”

  My feet moved fast but clumsily, terror causing me to make mistakes. Reaching under my bed, I pulled out the small backpack which contained my worldly possessions. A few odd pieces of clothes CPS had given me from their office. That’s it. I hadn’t bothered unpacking because, well, there was nothing really to unpack. Despite the meager amount however, I wasn’t about to leave it behind.

  Hearing whimpers, I scooted over to the triplets who were huddled together on Jessica’s bed, the furthest away from the men.

  “Come here,” I said, holding out my arms. They fell forward wrapping themselves tightly around me, wet cheeks soaking through my shirt. “I love you. I’m going to do what I—”

  “Five, four…”

  “I have to go.” Kissing the top of each head, I faced the molester. “If I ever hear you hurt any of them, I’ll come back and cut your balls off and then your dick while you watch, and then feed them to next door’s Rottweiler.”

  “Time’s up.”

  “I’m going.” I started the walk down the hall, the shotgun now pressed against my back. Aunty Meryl was nowhere to be seen, still the coward she always was. With a shove to the spine, I was sent through the creaky screen door. On the porch, I faced yet another family member who was a complete and utter disgrace. I trembled with rage despite staring down the barrel of a shotgun. He may have kicked me out, but I wasn’t leaving quietly.

  “You said I was like my mother, but I’m not weak. What you don’t see is how much you are like your brother. I hope both you pieces of shit rot in hell because that’s where you deserve to be. And same rule applies to you if you touch those kids or if you let anyone else touch them.”

  His shoulders jolt from laughter. Laughter because he most definitely did not see me as a threat. “You’ve been a curse since the day you got here. And if I ever see your cunt face again, it will most certainly be the last. Now get the fuck off my property.” He aimed his shotgun at the ground and pulled the trigger, the blast frightening the sleeping birds around us. They scattered through the trees in a frenzy. I fell to the ground instinctually even if it was the wrong thing to do.

  He truly was as crazy as my father.

  “Run little rabbit,” he chuckled like the psychopath he was.

  Getting to my feet, I fell into the shadows and took off at a sprint down the dark street, knowing I had to ignore the three small faces crying in the window. Then and there, as I passed each house still with their lights out, still uncaring to anything outside of its four walls, I made a promise to myself that as soon as I found someone who cared enough, I’d save the triplets from a fate like mine.

  Chapter 15

  TWO YEARS LATER

  The excessive banging on the door caused the whole apartment to shudder. And when I say ‘whole apartment,’ it consisted only of one tiny room fitted with a mattress on the floor, a toilet and shower in the corner and a fridge with a microwave perched on top.

  “I’m coming,” I hollered, rolling out of bed and searching desperately for something to cover myself up.

  Three more pounds on the door sent a plastic cup vibrating off the countertop.

  “I said, I’m coming,” I bellowed, annoyed at their impatience. Slipping on an oversized sweater, I stood on my toes and peered through the spy hole and saw Gerald, the building manager staring straight at me.

  “Shit,” I murmured.

  “I heard that. Open up, I haven’t got all day.”

  Falling flat, I heaved a heavy sigh and reluctantly opened the door. “Morning, Gerald.” When he saw my face, he faltered, eyes narrowing slightly like he was seeing me for the first time, except we saw each other most days as it was impossible to avoid him. He stared a little harder and then shook himself back to reality.

  “It’s afternoon,” he replied flatly. He handed me a folded piece of paper. “You’re late… again.”

  I sighed once more. “Ger
ald, you know I’m good for it. Shifts are slow at the moment. I did offer my services here, you know at reception, cleaning the—”

  “Judging by the state of your room, your cleaning skills aren’t what I’m looking for.”

  I wanted to tell him that an unmade bed is hardly messy, especially since I’d just rolled out of it. Everything is where it should be… well, except for the plastic cup on the floor.

  “Then I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to wait until I get paid. I promise you will see the money soon.”

  “I don’t have to do just anything.” Gerald was bald on top with a thick band of hair on the bottom half of his head. His nose was pointy sharp, eyes beady yet catlike. His people skills were non-existent simply because he… hated people. “You have until midnight, otherwise you’ll find the locks changed.”

  Gerald didn’t wait for a response because he didn’t care what I had to say. Closing the door, I leaned against it and sank to the floor. There was no way Franko was going to pay on demand. And even if he did, it wouldn’t be enough. I was three weeks behind on rent because shifts had been cut, and there was talk amongst staff that Franco had lost a considerable amount of money in a casino.

  “Just once…” I murmured, a single tear rolling down my cheek, “… just once give me a break.”

  ~~~

  “I’m not serving them anymore,” Katie, one of Franco’s girls, stood her ground, arms folded tightly across her chest.

  “You don’t have a say, so get back out there and do your job,” Franco ordered, the threat of sacking in his tone.

  “As my boss, you should care if one of our clients in trying to stick his finger up my pussy while I serve him his whiskey. If I wanted to work in a whore house, I would.”

  “If you don’t get back out there and look after your section, a whore house is exactly where you’ll end up.”

  They were referring to the particular group who’d hired The Boardroom. The Boardroom was a venue catering for corporate meetings who wanted ‘entertainment’ while they discussed business. Katie was a topless waitress who, while happy to do her job, objected to the men getting too hands on. Franco simply didn’t give a shit. He expected his girls to ensure the clients left satisfied, and that meant sometimes doing more than your job description.

  I poured drinks to complete an order and watched in my peripheral as they battled it out.

  “Tasha still isn’t here, so it isn’t just my section I’m covering.”

  “I don’t have anyone else, so stop your fucking complaining and deal with it.”

  “Take Damian off clean-up, put him in Lucy’s spot, and she helps me. See, fucking easy and I’m not even the boss.”

  A dampness soaked through my blouse. “Shit!” I jumped away from the counter and flipped the vodka bottle upright. “I can’t go out there.”

  “Why not?” Katie asked, still with her arms crossed over her large naked chest.

  “Because I’m not a topless waitress.”

  She shrugged. “Keep your blouse on for all I care. At least you’d still be helping.”

  “She can’t,” Franco interjected. “These men have paid for entertainment. If they wanted a fully clothed waitress they’d go to a pub.” He turned his focus to me… well, my breasts. “Take your top off.”

  “What?”

  “Lucy, right now I have two staff members not doing their jobs. I don’t have time for childishness. Take your top off.”

  Childishness was right. I still was a child. A few months shy of sixteen. I had Janice, my neighbor, show me how to make me look twenty-one with a few simple hair and make-up tricks. I’d forged my ID and no one had ever questioned me. Forging my ID and passing myself off as twenty-one was one thing, becoming a topless waitress in a venue where clients could feel me up when I wasn’t yet sixteen, was an entirely different story. A story I wanted no part of. But then Gerald’s face appeared before me. I owed three weeks rent and this could be my only option in attaining it.

  “I’ll do it.”

  “Great, take your top off and—”

  “But only on one condition.”

  Franco’s jaw twitched, and he finally lowered his iPad. “Yes?”

  “I need you to pay me for the last three weeks. My rent is overdue and I’m about to be evicted.”

  He considered my proposal. “Fine. See me at the end of the night. Now, for fuck’s sake, take your top and bra off and get out there before the asshole demands a refund.”

  Katie disappeared through the curtains, but Franco remained, his eyes still on me. “Can I have some privacy?” I knew he was about to see me partially naked, but taking my clothes off with him watching just didn’t sit easy with me.

  “You want that money, take it off.”

  He wasn’t going anywhere.

  Swallowing my pride, I unbuttoned my white blouse and pulled it over my arms. Franco continued watching but it had gone beyond the deal he’d made. Reaching behind my back, I unclasped my bra and again pulled it over my arms. Franco’s lips parted when he saw my bare breasts. I shifted awkwardly, trying to cover myself until I realized how ridiculous I was behaving. He’d see me throughout the night with my hands full and there’d be nothing I could do to stop him looking.

  “What a shame you’ve been hiding those beauties for so long.” He licked his lips. “Katie’s about to lose a good chunk of her tips.”

  ~~~

  The men in The Boardroom were gentlemen compared to Franco. I felt safer moving half-naked between thirty of them than I did being out the back with just one. I’d collected a good portion of tips and by the end of the night, with my three weeks’ pay included, I could even afford to pay another month’s rent in advance.

  Katie finished counting her tips and slipped on a sweater. “I’m outta here, bitches,” she said while walking out the door.

  Franco was doing a stocktake below the bar when I approached. “So, um… can I have my pay now? I need to get home before midnight.”

  He laughed while counting the bottles of whiskey. “Why? Will you turn into a pumpkin?”

  “No, my landlord needs it before he changes the locks on me.”

  Franco shuffled to the side. “Come here and help me for a second.”

  I gritted my teeth. I only had an hour to get home and he was chipping into that time. Relenting, I crouched down next to him. “What do you want me to—”

  His hand covered my mouth, his body tackling mine to the floor. It had happened so quickly, it took a good moment before I gathered my senses. I screamed even though it sounded muffled, but I was desperate for this not to become my fate for the night. It seemed like I was constantly fighting for survival. I bucked underneath him even though he surrounded me, but he didn’t budge. His mouth clamped over my breasts, biting hard on the nipple. I felt the tears slip down my temples when I squeezed my eyes against the pain. His hard-on pressed between my legs and I feared I wouldn’t make it out intact. When his mouth moved to mine and he kissed me hard it was wet, sloppy, and repulsive, just how I expected it to be coming from Franco. I took the liberty of biting his bottom lip, tasting blood almost immediately and he released a high-pitched mewl before landing a brutal punch to my side. His fist connected with my ribs, leaving me winded and gasping for breath.

  I rolled to the side and he rose to his feet, fingers gently touching his lip.

  “You shouldn’t have done that.” There was something about his tone that even through my wheezing I could tell only spelled trouble for me. It was the same tone used by both my father and Uncle Brian before him.

  Franco threw my blouse and bra at me, a cruel show of his dismissal and something worse. “Get the fuck outta here. And you can forget about your three weeks’ pay and tonight’s tips.

  On my feet facing off to him and holding my clothes against my chest, I felt waves of both humiliation and anger. “You can’t do that!”

  Franco scoffed while opening my bag and pulling the notes free. “Watch me.” And th
at’s all I could do as he stuffed them into his pocket.

  I was crying. Tears of anger and the sorry feeling of defeat. “We had a deal.”

  He looked at me as if I was just a simpleton. “You think I give a fuck about a deal? Get the fuck out of here and don’t bother coming back for your next shift. We’re done.”

  “You can’t.” I was breathless, feeling faint. But when I looked up, he was gone, and so was my last sliver of hope.

  ~~~

  I stood outside my apartment at twelve-fifteen, clutching my aching ribs and staring at the sign pinned to the door.

  Locks changed.

  Even if I had arrived on time, it wouldn’t have mattered. It looked like Gerald had the locks changed just after I left for work, given I was only fifteen minutes late. Banging my fist against the door, I sobbed. Tired, exhausted and hurting, I wondered why bad luck followed me like a shadow. I just couldn’t shake it.

  Taking to the flight of stairs, one step at a time, I winced as each movement felt like another blow to the ribs. There was the very likelihood that Franco had fractured or broken some.

  The night had been hot and humid when I left The Boardroom and now rain was starting to fall. The only place I knew to go was the women’s shelter. They’d accept me if they weren’t full but still, getting there was going to prove difficult. Using the walls to keep me upright, I moved at a snail’s pace. I could barely breathe and every time I did, it felt like a knife twisting into my ribs. The rain went from gentle to heavy in a heartbeat, droplets clinging to my mascaraed eyelashes. I blinked them away and searched the street for shelter.

  Everything seemed so out of reach and knowing I couldn’t make it, I broke down. Collapsing to my knees, I raised my face to the black and angry sky and cried. I cried for the punishments life kept cruelly dishing out one after another, and for the excruciating agony I was in. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled, rain bouncing off the road at least a foot in the air. When I opened my eyes, I saw a figure standing in the middle of the dark street, his hands stuffed into his raincoat pockets. I watched as he walked closer, his figure emerging from the shadows and into the glow of the streetlamp.