by Ally Vance
It was a weird rule that he had when we were younger. “If you love me as much as you say you do, you won’t ever let me feel like this alone.”
Knox’s moans turned into grunts.
His thrusting was becoming less controlled and as I closed my eyes and arched my back slightly, I felt him shoot his warm, thick liquid deep inside of me. His body trembled, his hand tightened around my throat, and the faster I stroked, the slower his thrusts became. But he didn’t pull out of me, not until I finally came and proved that I did love him the way he loved me.
When it was finally over, when Knox finally pulled himself out of me, I sat up with a tired laugh and he sat back on the couch, a smile on his handsome face.
And here we were.
The world’s biggest rock star and his little brother. Soaked in each other’s sweat, hiding a secret that no one would ever understand—a love that stood the test of years, and a bond that was now obvious to me would never be broken.
All in a small, run down home sitting in the south of nowhere.
About Megan Daniels
Megan Daniels has been in love with the written word since childhood. An avid fan of the darker delights in life, she writes her romance with a mix of dangerous bad boys, even stronger bad girls, and has fun creating the volatile situations they find themselves in. Happy endings come with a twist at the end of her pen, and the misfits she creates always end up where, and with who, they deserve.
Find Megan Daniels Online
Facebook
BookBub
Amazon
IV
Lies that Bind
Murphy Wallace
The more she trusted him, the more she wanted his hands on her. In her hair and on her neck. She longed to be vulnerable in his custody.
JM Storm
The story you are about to read contains triggers. If you are uncomfortable reading stories depicting scenes with graphic sexual abuse, this story is not for you.
This is part one of Brianna’s, Chelsea’s, and Sebastian’s story.
Chapter 1
Brianna
I was six years old the first time Uncle Jack touched me. At first it was just little brushes, here and there, during family parties and holidays. But then, my dad passed away and my mom relied on him to watch me so she could go to work. That's when things started to get really bad. He was a columnist for our local paper, but he also did freelance stuff for other publications all over the country, and he was able to work from home. He forced me to give him blow-jobs and he would ‘taste me' too, as he called it. He would make me dress up in different skimpy outfits and he would take pictures of me. Then, he would make me stand there while he got himself off. Sometimes he would make me do it for him. Often times, he would make me masturbate in front of him. I begged God to take my memories, to help me repress them, but I was never able to make them go away. I tried telling my mom a few times. I hinted at it, but I was never brave enough to tell her outright. Not to mention, Uncle Jack said that she would never believe me. And I believed him. Why wouldn't I? He has the people in this town fooled. He's handsome, strong, charismatic. The perfect guy.
Last year, he took his cruelty to new heights when he raped me. I don’t know why he didn’t do it sooner, but I feel like his proclivities matured as I did, growing more extreme through the years. Mom had to go on a business trip and I was sent to stay with him for a week. I begged my mom to let me stay with a friend, but she said no. When I got to his house, he told me he had something special planned for that afternoon. He took more than my virginity that day. He took my soul. I tried killing myself to make the pain go away. I downed all of my mom’s anxiety pills. Unfortunately, I tried to swallow too many at a time and they got stuck. I threw them all back up; what a waste. Mom beat the hell out of me for it. I used to tell myself that she didn’t know that it was going on. That she still doesn’t know what he put me through. Deep down, I know that’s a lie. She’s known all along.
“Hey, Joe,” I greet my supervisor when I arrive for work.
I've been working at the hardware store in town for the past three years. It doesn't pay a whole lot, but now that I've graduated high school, I am looking forward to working full time and getting the fuck out of my mom's house. My dad left me some money that I gained access to the day that I turned eighteen. Now I just need to find a place to live, somewhere far from here.
“Bri, how’s it going today?”
Joe is older, in his fifties or so. He and his wife have owned this shop for fifteen years, but it was his father’s before that. Joe and May are two of the nicest and most sincere people in this quiet town. It's just the two of them since their daughter, Sadie, was killed. It's a cold case that's haunted our small town for years. I was ten when it happened. She was fifteen. I remember wishing that I was as pretty and popular as her. It happened right after she won the Ms. Sweetwater pageant. She was supposed to meet up with some of her friends at the diner, but she never showed up. The entire town searched for her all night long. Finally, the sheriff found her three miles into the woods behind the high school, on the river bank. She had been raped and strangled. It rocked our small town and I feel so bad for Joe and May, that they've never had the closure that they need, that they deserve.
Sweetwater, NC is where we live. It’s in the heart of the middle of nowhere. The closest city is 70 miles away, and it’s more of a suburb than a major metropolitan area. We have one main drag where most of the stores are; where you can find everything you need to survive. The supermarket is at one end. We’re at the other. In between us is an auto shop, a drug store, a barber shop and beauty parlor, a diner, a couple of small clothing stores; all of the staples of small-town living.
“Pretty good. Glad school is finally over,” I say to him with a smile.
“Is your mom throwing you a graduation party?”
“Yeah, despite all of my protesting.”
“She’s proud of you, let her celebrate the moment.”
I roll my eyes at him playfully and go to the storeroom to see what needs to be stocked today.
Chapter 2
Brianna
“Congratulations, sweetie!” Aunt Helen says as she arrives.
“Thank you for coming,” I answer unenthusiastically.
“Hey, Chels,” I greet my cousin Chelsea in the same manner as her mother. “Nice to see you.”
“Same,” she says with a genuine smile. There is something in her stare too, a seriousness to it. “How have you been?”
Ah, so that’s what it’s for. She’s wondering if I’ve tried to kill myself recently. Or if I plan to.
“I’m fine,” I turn on my heels and walk away before she has a chance to say anything else.
There are too many people here. My mom is one of four kids; my Aunt Helen and two brothers. Uncle Paul is Bash's dad, and then there's… I can't say it; I pray he isn't coming today. Add my grandparents, and a few of my mom's friends, and our already small house feels like a child's playhouse.
“Brianna!” I hear my mom calling from the kitchen. “Can you help me bring some of these dishes outside?”
I take a deep breath and walk toward the kitchen. Just a few hours of this and it will all be over. Everyone will be gone and I will be able to breathe again.
* * *
“Brianna, have you seen your cousins?” Aunt Helen asks. “I want to get a picture of the three of you. It’s been so long since you’ve all been together.
"No, it wasn't my turn to watch them," I quickly tack a smile on at the end of my answer so I can try to cover up the fact that I'm acting like a sarcastic bitch.
Chelsea is twenty. Sebastian, or Bash as we've grown to call him, is twenty-three, why would I know where they are? I don't even know why they came. I'm sure there are much more exciting things that they could be doing today.
“Brianna, maybe you can stop being a brat and help look for them,” Mom says, startling me. I didn’t know she was standing right behind me.
"Sure, I'll go check outside," I answer with enthusiasm. All I want is to get the fuck out of here.
I have no idea where they are. We live on five acres and a lot of that is wooded. I don't actually think that they're out here, I'm using it as an excuse to get the fuck away from all of them. There is a tiny footpath that I've beaten into the ground from the countless walks I've taken back here. That is the path that I follow now. It leads me far enough away that I don't see my house anymore. I don't see anything but trees. When I am out here, I can drop the cynical, sarcastic exterior that I've built and let the pain and sadness seep in. It's the place that I always come to when I need to get away; my secret hiding spot.
Which is why, as I get closer, I’m confused when I hear the sound of a girl’s laughter coming from behind the giant downed-tree back here. I stop and pick up a large stick from the ground.
“Hello?”
The laughter stops as I hear someone gasp.
“Who’s there?”
Sounds of leaves rustling float my way just before my cousin Chelsea pops up from behind the tree.
“Jesus! What the fuck, Chelsea?! You scared the shit out of me. What the hell are you doing out here?”
"Oh," she scrunches her face as she tries to hide her surprise and pretend like nothing is going on. "I just needed some air."
“So you walked a mile through the woods and decided to roll around on the ground?” I cock my eye at her.
“No, I--”
I roll my eyes and march over to the tree.
"No! Wait!" she holds her hands out, thinking that's going to make me stop.
When I get to the tree and look on the other side of it, my eyes go wide with shock.
“Bash?! What the fuck!” I scream as he pops up from the ground and stands next to Chelsea.
No. There is no way that this is what it looks like. But if it wasn't, why are Chelsea's cheeks so flushed? Why does she have a leaf in her hair? Why are Bash's buttons crooked? Why are his hands folded over his fucking crotch the way they are?
"You guys are fucking sick," I turn and try to run away from them, but Bash catches me around my waist.
I scream out and his hand covers my mouth. Fear holds me hostage, more than his arms do. Oh, God. Bash is just like him; just like Uncle Jack.
“Shh, Brianna. Stop, okay. It’s not what you think.”
I try yelling something, but my words are garbled against his hand.
“I--I mean it is what you think, but there’s more to it. Please, I need you to listen to me.”
I relax enough, so he will let me go. He removes his hand from my mouth, but now he has one arm hung loosely around my neck, and one sits more tightly around my waist. Then, he turns around so we're facing Chelsea.
“There is no easy way to explain this, but part of it I know you’ll believe,” he speaks softly into my ear. “It has to do with Uncle Jack.”
Angry tears form in my eyes and I fist my palms at my sides.
“I don’t want to talk about him,” I reply, trying to fight my way out of his hold.
His grip around me gets a little tighter as he holds my body against him. The angry tears I had in my eyes earlier have spilled over onto my cheeks, and I can feel my armor starting to crack. I can’t fall apart in front of them. I need to remain strong so no one knows that the terror and pain I feel every single day is still present in my life. I've moved past feelings of giving up. Now all I want is to disappear, run far away, and start over.
“I know you don’t, but you need to know that you aren’t the only one he’s abused.”
I’m quiet for a moment before responding and my fight fades away a little.
“You know about that?”
“Yeah, we suspected for a while, but it wasn’t until you tried killing yourself last year that we knew.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
The tears begin to fall faster down my face now. I am so angry that they’ve known and haven’t said anything, but I’m also relieved that someone knows; moreso that they believe me.
“We’ve only seen you once since then, right after you got out of the hospital. It didn’t seem like the right time to mention it,” Chelsea says from the other side of the tree.
“And what does this have to do with you guys fucking one another?” I spit the words out like they’re acid burning my mouth.
"A few years ago, my parents went away for the weekend. They let me stay by myself, but they asked Bash to check in on me from time to time. He arrived one day, just after Uncle Jack left. He came inside to find me in the fetal position in my bed. I was… bloody. It wasn't the first time he… the first time that we… but he was especially rough this time. He told me that I would have a few days to recover before my parents got home, so he didn't ‘take it easy' on me like he usually did.
“Bash told me that Uncle Jack molested him his entire childhood too. I was in a daze. He put me in the bathtub and helped me wash--”
“Gross,” I interrupt.
“It wasn’t like that. It was, I don’t know… clinical. There was nothing sexual about it,” Bash chimes in.
"Afterward, I told him that I was scared to be alone… so he stayed. We talked for a long time. We held one another; we cried together." Chelsea begins crying now. "We told each other everything that we were too afraid and ashamed to tell anyone else. We shared things that only the other would understand completely."
“We know it’s not right, but there isn’t anyone else out there that we’ve been able to get close to. I’ve fucked… I can’t even tell you how many girls, trying to get rid of his touch. Trying to get his face… his voice out of my head. The only time I’ve been able to is when I’m with Chelsea.”
“Brianna, please. Please don’t tell anyone about this,” Chelsea begs.
“Even if I did, who would believe me. Just like no one would have believed me if I told them that “perfect Uncle Jack” gets his rocks off by touching me. What makes you think this is any different. Don’t worry though, I’m not going to give up your little secret. Uncle Jack really did a number on you both for you to be so fucked in the head like this.”
Sebastian let's go of me and I run back to the house, tears falling the entire way. I'm angry. I'm disgusted. Mostly I'm jealous though. At least they have each other to get them through their grief and misery. That's more than I can say for myself.
Chapter 3
Brianna
It’s been a few days since my party and I still can’t stop thinking about Chelsea and Bash. As hard as I try to wrap my head around what they’re doing, I just can’t. As hard as I try to pretend I’m not jealous that they have one another, I can’t. I try not to look as depressed as I feel as my last customer of the night leaves the store.
Part of moving to a full-time position at Joe's means that I need to open or close the store by myself on occasion. I've opened a few times, which is, literally, unlocking the store, but tonight is the first time that I'll close. I need to make sure that nothing is lying around and then I need to make sure that the items on the shelves are straight, so they are visible to the customer when the store opens the next day.
As I make my way through the store, I feel like somebody's watching me. I look around, but no one is there. When I finish straightening up, I grab my purse from behind the counter and walk into the storeroom. The office is back here, and I need to record my time in the log that Joe and May keep for payroll. Once my time is recorded, I put the journal back in the drawer and turn the light off, closing the door behind me. Digging through my purse, I look for my key to the store so I can lock up.
Suddenly, I feel a force pushing me up against the door behind me and I gasp in shock. Hands are moving all over my body. A familiar scent floods my nose, and I cry out immediately, as the realization hits that my uncle has captured me in his clutches once again. He grips me tightly around the throat with both hands and puts pressure under my chin. Lifting my face, he forces me to meet his ey
es. Fear runs through me as I bore into them, watching his evil swirl around within his stare.
"I'm sorry I missed your graduation party. I had out-of-town business to attend to," he says calmly as if he weren't in the middle of assaulting me.
He runs his cheek and lips up the side of my face, smearing his spit across my skin. His nose traces its way through my hair, inhaling my scent like it's the only thing that will keep him alive.
"I just got back into town and I came straight here. I couldn't wait for one more second to give you your graduation present."
He grinds his erection into my stomach as he bites down on my bottom lip. I grasp my purse tightly and attempt to hit him with it, but he catches my wrist before I can connect with his head. He holds me in place against the closed door with his hand around my neck.
"I love it when you fight back. Did you forget? Has it been that long? Guess I'll have to remind you. We have a lot of time to make up for my sweet Brianna."
He kicks my legs out from underneath me and I fall to the ground with him on top of me. It knocks the wind out of me and I lay there, struggling to catch my breath. He uses that time to unbutton my jeans and pull them down my legs. I gain a little bit of strength back as my diaphragm starts working again and I release the clutch I have on my stomach. My entire body is shaking in fear, but I can’t just lay here and let this happen all over again. I refuse to go down without a fight this time.
I throw a punch at him, but he is just out of my reach. I try to get his hands off of me by kicking my legs, but it's useless as he has my jeans around my ankles. I can't work them off to move my legs because they won't fit over my shoes, effectively imprisoning me in my own clothing. All of the energy that I exerted takes a toll on me and I give up my fight, collapsing beneath him.