Hidden River Five: Book 5 in the Hidden River Academy Series

by Strange, KT

  There were lockers behind me, and he took another step, backing me up against them.

  Alarm bells were ringing in my head, but when he stopped he was inches from me, his head bent so his mouth hovered close to mine.

  “Buck’d be down to watch. I might have to tie up Colt, but you’re so fucking hot that he’ll be hard up as soon as I cut your clothes off. And Shawn?”

  “That sound a lot l-like rape to me,” I said, my breath shuddering in my lungs, and his pupils flared.

  He knew.

  He knew he had me.

  “You’d be begging for it before I had you on the floor,” he whispered, his fingers coming up, teasing along my waist.

  His mouth closed over mine, intense and burning. I gasped, and his hips surged forward into mine.

  If he hadn’t been wearing a cup, I would have felt him hard against my thigh, I was certain of that in the back of my mind as I kissed him back, hungry for it.

  He bit my lower lip and I jerked, my head banging against the lockers.

  “Ow,” I hissed, and he pulled away, concern on his face… a weird look for him. He lifted his hand to the back of my head to check for a lump. “Stop,” I said, and he froze. “I need… I need space.”

  He immediately moved, shifting backward.

  My chest felt like it couldn’t expand enough to get the air I needed, and my face flushed hard with what we’d just done.

  And then… like a curse or a rescue… my phone buzzed in my pocket and I let out a shaking sighed.

  “One second,” I said to him. I pulled my phone out, and all desire melted from my body, leaving me feeling cold. I frowned. A text message from my mom flashed across the screen.

  Meet me in town,

  would you sweetie?

  I’m sorry.

  XO Mom

  “That your 6th boyfriend?” Reid asked with a low growl in the back of his throat. He slammed his arm against the bank of lockers, the metal rattling with the force of it. He leaned in over me, reaching for my phone.

  I jerked it away and glared at him, not moving an inch.

  “Back off,” I snapped. “You can’t tell me about your stupid little gang bang fantasy and then call me a slut, okay? It’s my mom. She just wants me to meet her in town, at the diner.”

  He cocked an eyebrow.

  “You really wanna do that? I mean, even aside from everything, she was the town bike. You looking to pick up tips or something?”

  My eyes must have flashed my fury because he cleared his throat, holding his hands up in front of him.

  “Don’t stab me.”

  “You’re asking for it,” I bit out each word, and he stepped back, out of range.

  “Alright, alright. You need a ride?”

  Chapter Nine

  My mother’s eyes were covered with sunglasses when I stepped into the diner, which should have been my first red flag. It was night-time.

  Reid’s headlights cut across the room as he left the parking lot, I guessed to go back to the practice or something like that.

  And there my mother sat.

  I swallowed, my throat tight.

  I wasn’t sure what had happened between me and Reid, but this had shoved it all aside.

  I walked down the aisle to her booth and stood there.

  “Hey,” I said, not sure what else to say. Her nose wrinkled and her lips parted as she let out a soft cry.

  “Oh, baby,” she said, “oh baby I’m so sorry.” She got up, and hit me with a heavy hug that wrapped around me tight. My body was stiff, and then I sighed, leaning into it.

  I pulled away to sit and she gave me a trembling smile, pulling her sunglasses off. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and that’s when I saw her nose was swollen.

  “I just want what’s best for you,” she started, and I sighed.

  “And you think it’s a good idea to have me living with your… you…” I struggled with it and then whispered out, “your rapist?”

  She laughed, the sound trilling, and flapped a hand at me.

  “Oh, that was just a misunderstanding.”

  I stared at her in disbelief as the waitress came up, putting down a cherry pie slice for my mom, and a full breakfast-for-dinner for me. Sausages, pancakes, bacon, hash browns, and two happy looking eggs.

  Too bad I felt sick to my stomach and wasn’t in the place to eat.

  “How is something like that a misunderstanding?” I asked when the waitress left to check on the only other occupied table, across the diner. My mom smiled at me and reached over, patting my hand.

  “I teased him, something fierce, you see, and that just happens when you make boys chase you,” she said with a meek smile that made me ill. Seriously? Really? That was the lie she was telling herself and now me?

  “Mom, you can’t really—”

  “Eat, eat,” she encouraged me. But I couldn’t. I shook my head.

  “This isn’t right,” I said softly. Her expression morphed into one of irritation.

  “You’re just angry I won’t let you run around with his son,” she hissed at me from across the table, and it was so intense and filled with rage that I pulled back as if I’d been slapped.

  “It isn’t like that,” I replied, insulted. Yes, the maybe brother thing was, well, more than a small problem, but the bigger part of it was that Mr. Barron had hurt my mother.

  And he’d tried to hurt me.

  And he was possibly sleeping with Paige.

  There was clearly a pattern of behavior and he had to be stopped.

  “He hurt you,” I said, trying something different to see if that would work on her, and bring her to a place where she would see reason.

  In front of me, my plate of food grew cold and the whole restaurant faded into the background, the soft sound of dishes being washed in the distance and the cash register being rung up.

  “And he hurt me too, Mom, he tried to hurt me like he did to you.” I set my hands in front of me on the edge of the table, clinging to the formica and praying that she would listen, that whatever insanity had gripped her would let go.

  Please, I begged with my eyes. Please stop this.

  She returned my gaze, her eyes widening, her mouth parting in horror. My heart, my ragged hope, lifted.

  “You dare accuse him of something so…” She set it all on fire with those words, the next few burning the house down. “Filthy. He’s your father, he would never—”

  I’d lost her. Somehow in the short days from when she’d left my uncle’s house until now, she’d wandered into the dark woods and what had come back out was some kind of monstrous parody of the woman who had loved me.

  However bad she had been at parenting, she’d still loved me.

  Now she stared at me like I was the beast.

  I warred with myself, everything in my gut telling me to call my uncle, to get out of there and stop listening to the poison dripping from her tongue.

  “You don’t know that,” I said, and the insult was out of me before I could stop it. “Everyone says you used to sleep around. It could have been anyone—”

  She reached across the table, lighting-quick and slapped me across the face.

  “You shut your fucking mouth,” she growled, a droplet of spit landing on the table between us.

  My face stung and my eyes watered. I shook my head slowly. Her eyes glittered with rage, and I knew that was it. It was over. Whatever mother-daughter relationship we’d had was shattered.

  “I’m done with you putting me last,” I said, my lower lip trembling. “I’ve always stood by you, even when there was nothing to eat, I never said nothing to nobody when the power was out for weeks and when they shut the water off. And now this?”

  I got to my feet.

  “I’m not listening to this,” I said, “he’s an asshole, and I am not going to go live with him. I don’t even know that he’s really my dad.” I grabbed my jacket as my mother scrambled after me. I ignored her as I left the diner, but her fingernails dug into my
arm as the fresh air and an empty parking lot embraced me.

  I whirled, and grabbed her wrist, staring at her hard.

  “Let go,” I snapped through my gritted teeth. Her face twisted, transformed with anger and she shrieked my name, the sound of it echoing in the empty lot and the few dusky street lights that didn’t quite reach us, leaving us in a pool of shadow.

  I never saw it coming.

  I would never in a million years thought my mother could… ever…

  The screech of tires echoed in the shimmery late evening air, and I turned as a van pulled up, windows darkened, and the side door rolled open.

  I gasped and two men reached out, grabbing me. I didn’t have a chance to scream, one of them wrapping an arm around my head, thick denim fabric pressed against my lips.

  They dragged me in, and I hit the floor with a jolt as pain spiraled up my body. Denim turned to flesh, slick with my spit as one gagged me, the door sliding shut with a bang.

  The hand over my mouth was tight and I screamed, kicking hard, even as one of the men grabbed my legs. They pinned me down, and the van rolled forward, panic driving my thoughts.

  I had to get out

  I had to…

  The last image of my mother’s face, a serene smile on it, like she was happy with this, like she wanted this, blotted everything out and I bit down on the hand covering my mouth.

  “Ah, fuck!” he snarled, and then backhanded me. I fell against the side of the van, the bare metal floor jolting under me.

  “Don’t fucking bruise her. Goddammit, stop at that light. I’ve got to get this into her-” The man yanked out a small vial from a black backpack, and a syringe.

  My eyes widened and I scrabbled backward, on the floor of the van, dust and grit biting into the palms of my hand. I turned, and reached for the door, grabbing the handle.

  My fingers grazed it, the cold metal smooth under them-

  I was yanked back, my chin hitting the floor and sparking stars of pain in my eyes.

  Someone rolled on top of me, pinning me down. The air rushed out of my lungs.

  I couldn’t.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  “Her sleeve,” I heard the one on top of me say, and he ripped it, a line of pain lighting up on my arm where the fabric yanked. Cold, wet, tingling, on my upper arm, and I cried out at the sharp prick of the needle, and the pressure stinging in my muscle.

  “Fuck, there, there it is.”

  Ting… ting… ting.. The needle rolled away, and a tremble ran through my body. I gasped for air, the man over me pulling off.

  I tried to push myself up, but the van lurched forward and he caught me, as I struggled against him. My arm burned, and he wrapped me in a bear hug.

  “Calm the fuck down. It’ll only be a minute.”

  His words sounded warped, and I shuddered, trying to move again, but this time, my arms felt heavy...

  My head fell back against his shoulder.

  “A little nap, and then you’ll be home, girly.”

  Those last words faded out into a misty gray that swallowed me whole.

  Chapter Ten

  I slipped in and out of consciousness my whole body aching every time I woke up. Someone pressed a damp sponge to my lips and I sucked on it, my mouth dry and feeling like it was cracked.

  I'm not exactly sure how much time passed like that, lots of muffled noises around me that invaded my dreams. I hovered between awake and asleep feeling like God was wrapped around me and that I couldn't break through it to wake up.

  At some point someone helped me to my feet, and hands guided me towards the bathroom. My fingers wrapped around the porcelain of the toilet, and I puked. Water and bile splashed into the bowl. And then back to bed. It wasn't until the sun fell across my face, as someone pulled back the curtains, that I came out of the fog.

  My eyes cracked open and my whole face felt like it was creaking as I squinted in the light. I sat up with a gasp, feeling like I had forgotten something and stared at the strange woman by the windows.

  "So you are finally awake," she said.

  My only answer was a groan as I tried to get to the side of the bed. Where was I? I wasn't at home. That was obvious, from the fine furnishings in the bedroom that I lay, looking like something out of a home and garden decorating magazine. There was a chandelier that hung above the bed, although its lights were out. The sheets that I was trapped in felt richer and more expensive than anything I had ever touched.

  "Who are you? Where am I?" They were the most obvious questions in the first ones that came to my mind as I slipped from beneath the duvet. My feet hit a plush carpet and I curled my toes into the thick silky fibers.

  The woman smiled at me and picked up a tray at the end of the bed.

  “You should eat," she said, and that's when I saw the spread of food on the tray. My stomach turned, rebelling at the idea of a single bite. There was a pile of butter toast, and even something that simple made me feel nauseous. “Don't be surprised if you vomit again, it happens after you've been asleep for so long."

  “How many days?" I knew now it was days, it had to have been. My uncle would be freaking out, the guys too. The only reason I was calm was... she had me there, trapped. Someone had taken me, and my mother had helped plan. I needed to stay calm just in case my safety depended on me being nice.

  Wasn’t that the way kidnappings always worked out? The kidnapped befriended their captor and eventually escaped? My low grade panic was wrestling with that information.

  “Four, but it’s alright,” she said, and I realized her voice was lightly accented, English, but very mild, as if it had been watered down by international travel or living. “Your uncle has been informed as to your whereabouts. Your family is so anxious to see you. Would you like to bathe, and get dressed?”

  I stared around the room. My uncle knew where I was and the cops hadn’t been called… to my knowledge.

  There was only one person who had that kind of power.

  Mr. Barron. The Barron family. I set my teeth and took in a deep breath, not sure what I had been dragged into, but determined to end it.

  “Yeah. Can I get some privacy?” It felt like my legs wouldn’t bend properly, my ankles stiff, as I got up, trying not to wobble in front of her. She was dressed in nurses’s scrubs, I realized, but old fashioned, right down to the plain white leather shoes on her feet and tan stockings. The only thing she was missing to complete the outfit would have been a neat, white cap perched on her head.

  She watched me cautiously.

  “Mr. Barron has asked me to see to your nee-”

  “Mr. Barron can nicely fuck off,” I said, losing the threadbare grip on my patience. I started walking to the bathroom, hoping my legs wouldn’t give out.

  They didn’t, and the woman/nurse/person, stood in shocked silence at my outburst.

  I slammed the door behind me and clicked the lock, trying to control my panicked breathing.

  A massive bathroom greeted me, veiny marble floors white and flecked with gray and gold. A large window at the far end, maybe fifteen feet away, had sunlight pouring into it, setting the glittery floor alight, pooling there next to a massive walk-down bathtub.

  I stared around me and slowly sank to the floor, my weak legs finally giving out.

  What the hell had I gotten myself into?

  My mouth was sour at the back, and my body ached, the floor warm to the touch with radiant heat.

  I closed my eyes and wished myself back home, curled up tight in my bed under the window overlooking the meadows behind my uncle’s house.

  I was safe there.

  Here I felt exposed, terrified of what every second held.

  The door against my back shuddered slightly, vibrating with air pressure changes. I heard a low male voice, and I scrambled up to my feet, backing up from the door.

  I knew who it was.

  The knock came, like three shots to my heart and I grabbed the polished edge of the marble countertop to balance
myself.

  “Mia, open up. It’s your father.”

  Just like that.

  My heart knotted up and I barely, just barely, kept myself from snarling a passionate go fuck yourself at the door.

  “I need to pee,” I shouted and then turned to the sink, turning it on full force.

  The rush of noise drowned out any reply and I ran to the window, my fingers searching along the sill for a latch.

  “No, no,” I hissed as I found nothing… nothing… nothing. I glanced around the room in panic. There was a giant open shower, no curtain or rod for me to… I don’t know, attack him with it if he tried to come in. Could I break the window and get out like that?

  I glanced down. It was a long drop from the second floor, and below were sharp looking flagstones threatening to bruise, if not break my legs if I fell that far.

  Goddammit.

  “Mia,” he repeated, sounding more forceful. “Come out immediately.”

  I closed my eyes, trapped and caught. I walked to the sink and ran my fingers under the warming water, splashing it up over my face.

  I stared at the captive in the mirror, her hair lank and greasy from days of sleep, with dark bruising circles under her eyes like she’d been held against her will.

  Oh wait.

  She had been.

  I stalked over to the door, ready to lay one on him. A punch, that was.

  The door swung open and there he stood. I bristled instantly, my hands coming up.

  He barely blinked, catching my wrist in one, his fingers wrapping around it so tight that I cried out. Pain lashed up my arm as he twisted it up and behind my back, spinning me into his chest.

  I heaved, trying to kick, but it hurt so bad and—

  “I’ll break it,” he threatened mildly. My eyes watered with tears and I let out a pathetic little whimper and stopped moving. “That’s better,” he purred. He let me go and I stumbled to the side, whipping my arm around against my chest.

  We watched each other for long moments and his lip curled.

  “Not exactly the homecoming I wished for, but the psychiatrist did say it would be a difficult transition for you.”