“Did you cut you hair?” he demanded.
“No, dad. I couldn’t get it out of the ponytail. You can’t cut hair while it’s in a ponytail,” Jasmine said in a tone that implied he was an idiot for even suggesting it.
Peanut rolled his eyes. Reaching out, he tried to untangle the knot his daughter had put in her hair. Tugging gently at the ponytail holder that was somehow twisted up in a knot, he grunted in response. He finally got the hair untangled after ten minutes of working with it. Her silky brown locks fell to just past her shoulders. He reached over and grabbed the comb off the coffee table where he’d laid it this morning when he’d put her hair up. He slowly tugged it through the knotted strands trying not to pull her hair.
“Ow, that’s pulling, daddy,” she complained.
Peanut didn’t snap at her even though she’d done it to herself. He knew she hadn’t done it on purpose. He’d had to learn a lot of patience in the past four and half years since Jasmine had arrived in his life. The night her mother had shown up on his doorstep with photos of her adorable little face he’d been a goner. Peanut had taken one look at her chubby baby face and pretty green eyes and he’d known that it didn’t matter if she was his biological daughter or not. She needed him and that was all that mattered. He’d taken both Jazzy and her mom in without a paternity test or a fight. It had taken about two seconds for him to decide that anyone that adorable deserved a father. Jazzy had been his from that moment on. Her mother fought hard to stay as long as she was able, but the cancer eventually got her. Stage four ovarian cancer wasn’t very forgiving.
“Sorry, Jazzy pants, but it’s really tangled,” Peanut replied, his hand holding the knot while trying to gently work it out with the comb.
“Don’t call me that, dad. I’m too big for that nickname now. I’m almost ten, you know,” Jasmine insisted, sounding annoyed.
Peanut smiled a little sadly. Every day she got a little less dependent on him. Her growing up was going kill him. He didn’t even want to think about what would happen when she started dating. Maybe he could forbid it until she was thirty—or maybe forty.
Yep, forty sounded good.
“Alright, sweets, it’s all fixed up. Do you want me to put it back up?” he asked.
“No, I’ll leave it down. That way we can go meet Uncle Rage and Cody. I’m getting too old to go to the park you know. I think next time we should maybe just go get ice cream or maybe go to the arcade. Oooh, or the mall,” Jasmine said importantly, grabbing her shoes and pulling them on.
Peanut shuddered; he wasn’t about to tell his cute little hellion that the mere thought of going to the mall with her made him queasy. Thankfully she had plenty of Aunties to take her in his place because he wasn’t ever doing that shit again. The one time he’d taken her a little over a year ago had been three hours of pure hell. She’d manically insisted on going into each store and by the time he’d called for back-up he’d been at his wits end. If Rooster hadn’t taken pity on him by bringing Star to help, he likely would have sat down in the middle of Macys and cried like a little bitch.
“We can talk about that later, let’s just get our stuff and go meet Cody and Uncle Rage,” Peanut said, stuffing her hair tie and the comb into the pocket he’d had sewn into the inside lining of his cut. He’d learned in the past years that Jasmine changed her mind at lightening speed, and he knew better than to take her at her word.
Thankfully between getting her hair untangled and explaining why she was too old for the park she’d completely forgotten that she’d been trying to cut her hair. He rubbed his hand down his face as he followed his princess out the door like any good servant would. Peanut pulled the keys from his pocket after locking the door behind them. He found himself trying to remember a time when he wasn’t at the little hellion’s beck and call. He couldn’t help the happy grin that curled his lips when he realized it was so long that he wasn’t able to recall it.
“Ok, but I still want bangs,” Jasmine said as she climbed into the front seat. Her eyes were narrowed and she wore a determined look on her cute little face.
“We can discuss it the next time we get your hair cut. No doing it yourself,” Peanut said firmly as he gripped the door. Jasmine looked unhappy but she nodded and reached for the seatbelt to buckle up.
“Watch all your bits,” Peanut teased, watching her roll her eyes at his joke. After shutting the door, he rounded the cage slowly. He knew that in a few years she’d be a teenager and she wouldn’t need him as much. He rubbed his chest because that thought made his heart ache. She was growing up and he knew he couldn’t stop it. She’d be in high school in a few years. She’d start dating and then she’d go off to college.
Fuck.
He didn’t even want to think about the dating. He wasn’t kidding about wanting her to wait till she was forty. He knew how young boys could be. He knew how they thought and no way in hell did he want them anywhere near his sweet little princess. Over the past two years he’d watched Diablo going through it with Kelly and he knew that he sure as hell wasn’t prepared for that. The last boyfriend Kelly had brought home had been a seventeen-year-old prep school reject that Diablo had scared shitless. His sister was still mad at him and it had been four months since that debacle. Diablo didn’t really give a shit about scaring the kid off as he’d found ecstasy in the bag the kid had left when he’d run out. Kelly however wasn’t amused.
He reached his side of the car and opened his door. He climbed into the driver’s seat and buckled up.
“Dad, can we go by Steak N’ Shake on the way home for dinner?” Jasmine asked as he pulled out of the drive. Peanut couldn’t help the grin that curled his lips. Jazzy was in love with the Oreo milkshakes they served, and she asked to eat there at least twice a week. Not that he took her that often, but she still asked.
“We’ll see,” he replied as he headed towards the park where they were meeting Cody and Rage. Normally Rooster and his two hellions would be meeting them there too, but Star—his old lady—had wanted to take them to visit her mother in Bocca today. Hammer’s kid was still too young since he’d just started walking. Most of the other kids in the club were the same, too old or too young to be a part of the bi-weekly play dates for the kids. Most people would find it funny to think of a group of bikers setting up play dates but that’s what they did. Peanut knew they’d be shocked to find that bikers were actually one of the most family-oriented cultures out there. Just because they were tough didn’t mean that they weren’t human.
Peanut smiled at Jazzy as she practically wiggled in excitement as they pulled into the parking lot and she saw Cody waving to her from the top of the monkey bars. He held in the comment on her excitement even though he found it funny that she’d just been professing herself too old for playing at the park but was really stoked to be here. It took about two seconds for her to hop from the car and run over to Cody. Peanut followed behind her, taking a seat next to Rage on the bench with a selfish little grin.
Chapter Three
Phoebe tilted her head slightly and stared at the yellow green bruises that still hadn’t completely faded. She hated them. The cut above her eye could be explained away easily, but the dark bruises on her neck couldn’t. Nobody who saw them was going to be thinking her injuries were from something like a car accident or fall. The facial bruising and the cut wouldn’t raise any eyebrows like those damned finger bruises did. She’d be happy when the last of them faded. Phoebe sighed and rubbed at them, wishing it would make them fade faster. She knew that she had at least another week or two before that happened. Hopefully by the time she found the place she wanted to settle they’d be long gone, and she could start over.
She hated that everyone who saw her knew someone had abused her. It made her feel like a useless human being. She still couldn’t believe that she’d allowed the abuse to go on as long as she had. She could almost hear the voice of her therapist telling her that she was being too hard on herself. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep brea
th before letting it out slowly. She looked into the mirror, glaring at the ugly evidence that refused to be hidden by the makeup she’d piled on.
Pushing away the negative feelings, she gripped the counter in the bus stop bathroom. Her eyes took in her pale cheeks and the shadowed look in her eyes. Phoebe knew that the fear that lingered inside her would likely never fade completely. It was something she’d have to learn to live with, but she wasn’t going to let it rule her. She would create a life for herself and she’d live every day to the fullest. No more holding her breath and waiting for Johnny to rage. No more desperate attempts to make sure everything was absolutely perfect.
She brushed her hair back realizing she was tired. Too bad she didn’t have time to get a hotel room before she climbed on the next bus. She turned on the water, letting it heat before sloshing it over her face. It felt good and she closed her eyes for a moment before opening them. They drifted to the counter and she stared at the plastic indicator she’d just peed on. The box said five minutes and she’d know. It seemed unrealistic to hope her week-long morning sickness wasn’t an indication that she was pregnant, but she still prayed she wasn’t. She hadn’t prepared for that in her escape plan. Not that anyone could really prepare for a pregnancy.
Her hands were white as she grabbed her bag and pulled out her concealer and her foundation, setting them on the counter beside the test. She needed a distraction and trying to cover the bruises would help keep her from panicking over this new change.
She’d been running for five days and she had put enough miles between herself and her past that she felt a little safer. Her plan had worked flawlessly. She’d left early in the morning after Johnny had headed into work. She’d met Kendra—her friend from the shelter—to get the rental car. Kendra had taken the keys to her car and driven it back to her place so Johnny wouldn’t immediately associate her leaving with the women’s shelter. Worried about her friend’s safety, Phoebe had waited until Kendra had returned to the shelter before she’d left. She had felt like she’d held her breath the whole time she’d waited for her to return.
Kendra was surprised she was waiting. Phoebe had told her that she’d done so much to help her that she hadn’t wanted to leave without thanking her. That wasn’t completely a lie. She had wanted to thank her friend, but she’d mostly wanted to be sure Johnny hadn’t come home early and hurt Kendra. After saying her goodbyes, she’d gathered her money from her work locker and she’d driven away from the life she’d been trapped in.
Even with the feeling of freedom leaving had made her feel, Phoebe hadn’t felt calm until after she’d boarded the second Greyhound bus. Her thoughts still on the early days of her escape, she began smearing the concealer over one of the bruises on her neck. She knew it wouldn’t work well but she still tried to cover them. She frowned and covered the concealer with foundation. It didn’t hide the green completely, but it would at least hide it a little bit. Maybe no one would notice that she had weird green splotches on her neck. She almost snorted at the thought. They’d notice but it couldn’t be helped.
She glanced down at the pregnancy test and her mind immediately blanked. She stared at the plastic test strip with shock roaring through her because it had two little pink lines. Her heart sped up and her breathing became erratic as she gripped the counter until her knuckles were white. Phoebe picked up the test hoping she’d read it wrong, but the two little lines stayed put. Maybe she should take the other test in the box to be sure? With that thought in mind she tossed the first test into the trash and quickly shuffled over to the stall and peed on the second stick. Her heart pounded in her ears as she waited on it to change. It took about three minutes for the test to show two pink lines, confirming the first test wasn’t a fluke or a false reading.
Shit, now what was she going to do?
Babies were expensive, but even as she considered her options she realized that she couldn’t bear the thought of an abortion. No, she’d have this baby, planned or not. Starting over might be a little harder than she’d originally planned but sometimes you didn’t get to plan your life. She knew that better than anyone. When she’d graduated at the top of her class in high school she’d planned to be a nurse or maybe an art teacher. That hadn’t happened because two years later she’d met Johnny. He’d seemed so charming, so perfect. Her friends had all thought he was dreamy, and she’d been proud to date him.
At first, she hadn’t noticed the way he was starting to slowly separate her from her family and friends. How he’d act like he couldn’t stand to be away from her long enough for her to go hang out with the girls or how he’d convince her to go see her mother another day. It was a game to him, and he’d played it well. The counselor at the women’s shelter had told her he fit the typical profile for an abuser. Apparently more than one abusive person was extra charming. They typically convinced everyone, including the victim, that they were great people before they systematically destroyed the confidence of said victim, thereby making it nearly impossible for their intended target to have the strength to escape them.
Phoebe was one of the few who’d managed to escape and she was damned determined to never be under another man’s thumb or in his power as long as she lived. She refused to be used or made into a victim ever again. She laid her hand on her belly, closing her eyes as she silently promised the tiny life inside her that she’d never let anyone hurt him or her. Phoebe was glad she hadn’t known about the baby when she’d been with Johnny. She didn’t know if she would have had the courage to run if she’d known. Her mother had always told her that everything happened for a reason. She wasn’t sure what that reason was but maybe her life with Johnny was necessary for her to be strong enough to care for this baby on her own. Who fucking knew? Certainly not her.
With her hand still resting on the life she now knew was growing inside her she smiled a little, feeling lighter than she had only moments ago. It was an odd feeling. Nothing had changed, and yet this baby made her feel like she might be able to carve out a life for herself even if she was still on the run from a brutal man who wanted to own her.
Phoebe set the second test on the counter and washed her hands. She bent down and rooted around in her bag for a granola bar and a water, placing them in her sweatshirt pockets before putting her make-up away and zipping it up. She then hefted the bag onto her shoulder and picked up the test, smiling at the plastic applicator. She put the cap on the end she’d peed on before she wrapped it in the plastic wrap she’d removed it from. She then stuck it into the outside pouch of her duffle. It was gross but she wanted to keep the test as a reminder.
She walked to the door and unlocked it. She pushed open the bathroom door, noticing a woman who glared at her as she hurried into the bathroom after her. Phoebe was essentially living out of these little bathrooms, so she didn’t feel guilty. She headed to the benches near the bus terminal where she sat for a little over forty minutes eating the granola bar and drinking the water while watching people across the street going in and out of a popular local grocery store. Her mind focused on her new circumstances. She was going to be someone’s mother. It scared and excited her in equal measures.
On the one hand it was something she’d wanted for a long time. Before things had gotten bad with Johnny, she’d wanted at least four kids. She’d taken her birth control religiously after things had gone sour and that was one reason her pregnancy shocked her so much. She had only stopped taking her birth control in the past few days after she’d escaped him. However last month when she’d gotten a respiratory infection she remembered the nurses telling her that the antibiotics might mess with her birth control. She’d been so stressed that she hadn’t remembered. It didn’t help that Johnny had been pretty much raping her for several years. Not that he would see it that way, but she did. After the emotional connection between them became strained she hadn’t wanted to have sex, but she’d been too scared to refuse anytime he’d initiated it.
He’d given her little choice but to let him
talk her into sex. She never knew if saying she wasn’t in the mood would mean receiving another beating. Asking him to wear a condom likely would have sparked the same reaction. Her head ached as she remembered those feelings of helplessness and she promised herself that her child would never feel those things. Already she was protective of the tiny life inside her.
She was still staring out the window and she watched an old man shuffle down the sidewalk with his walker, her mind consumed with her worries. She realized that she’d have to see a doctor to make sure everything was okay and to find out how far along she was. She had never had normal periods even while on birth control, likely due to the stress of her life with her husband.
Hearing the bus pull up, Phoebe turned to watch it park. She stood up, grabbing for her bag, glad to be on the move again. It was nerve racking waiting in the bus depots for the next bus. She couldn’t say why but she suspected it was because she still felt like at any moment Johnny would pop up. He’d likely kill her if he did find her again and she prayed that never happened. She got into the line that was forming near the door of the bus. People were exiting the bus and the few people who were getting on waited until they got off before they climbed on.
Phoebe carried her bag up the steps showing her ticket to the bus driver as she passed. Heading down the aisle she tucked her head down and tried not to make eye contact with the elderly woman in the front seat who stared at her bruises with a frown on her face. As she moved through the bus a girl in a Gryffindor shirt and Harry Potter glasses watched her curiously. Phoebe had been getting similar looks for years so it barely fazed her, even though it sent a spike of shame burning through her. She ignored it and found a seat towards the back. She had gotten used to ignoring the looks but it still bothered her.
Two men who sat near her started whispering. She heard one say something about her bruises and the other respond in a hushed tone she couldn’t make out. Phoebe pulled her head phones out of her pack and pressed them into her ears. Her hands trembled as she pressed play on her iPod, unwilling to answer any questions if someone got bold enough to ask. Her life was none of their business.
Saved by the Devil (Devils Arms Book 3) Page 2
