Three Divisions: Crescentwood 1

by R. A. Smyth

  So yeah, thanks for destroying that guys.

  Now, my eyes are wide open. I was only deluding myself with the girls and Neill. I won’t let anyone here pull the wool over my eyes again. I don’t fit in, and I don’t want to fit in here. This is not my life, it’s just where I’m stuck living for right now. I will survive this; and I’ll come out swinging. Just you wait and see.

  Chapter 28

  Storming out of the school, I have had enough of this day. This day can go fuck itself. Since the bell only just rang to start the school day, there is no Oliver waiting for me in the car park so I decide to walk back to the mansion. I could really do with the time to calm myself down anyway.

  Walking along the quiet roads, it doesn’t take long to leave the school and the few other buildings near the town centre behind me, and I am soon walking along the otherwise deserted road, with the edge of the forest on my right side, the trees stretching up to the sky above me, providing some cover from the warm sun.

  I truly do love this place. If only I didn’t have assholes and rich bitches messing with me, or my father trying to manipulate and threaten me at every turn, I could enjoy my time here

  Crescentwood itself, and the surrounding natural landscape is just so peaceful. Walking amongst the trees, I can hear the birds singing to each other from high above me, and squirrels and other wildlife shuffling about on the forest floor.

  Taking a deep, calming breath, I can smell how fresh the air is, along with a hint of pine and wood. I’ve never spent much time out in the middle of nature, but damn I could get used to this.

  Just when I’m starting to find my zen and burn off the hurt and anger from this morning, I hear a car engine roaring up behind me. Assuming whoever it is will continue to drive on past, I ignore the approaching vehicle, however I soon hear the vehicle slowing down, and, turning my head, I notice a large black SUV starting to keep pace alongside me.

  The driver's window is lowered to reveal the shithead duo from this morning. Of course. I can’t prevent the eye roll at this turn of events. Just as I was starting to find my inner peace and all that nonsense, the universe decides to shit on me some more.

  “Leave me alone,” I state bluntly to the two assholes in the car, not even bothering to look at them, continuing on my walk down the road. I suddenly feel exhausted. Beyond exhausted. I’ve never felt so tired. I don’t have it in me to replace my mask or cover the hurt that’s evident in my voice and written plainly on my face.

  Of course, the two of them ignore me anyway and continue to drive slowly beside me.

  “Now that’s no way to greet someone who’s here to offer you a lift, is it?” Barrett asks, showing no hint of apology or regret over what he instigated today. The shame he showed earlier in the hallway is long gone now.

  “I wouldn’t get into your car if it was going to save me from being trampled by a herd of elephants,” I retort, already sick of this conversation.

  Sighing heavily while he shakes his head as though I’m disappointing him, Barrett cryptically states, “You’re making this much harder than it needs to be, babe.”

  Before I can ask him what the hell he’s going on about, a bag is thrown over my head and I find my hands zip-tied together. Seriously? This is starting to become a nasty habit.

  Cursing out the two asshats, I hear the back door of the SUV open and I am unceremoniously thrown into the car, landing on my side, sprawled out on the seats. Quickly righting myself, I hear the passenger side door open as, who I can only presume is Preston, climbs into the front passenger seat. How the hell did I miss him sliding out of the car and sneaking up on me?

  “What the actual fuck do you dipshits think you’re doing?!” I growl at them. Of course, they ignore me, and I soon feel the car picking up speed, pushing me back into the seat as we fly down the road. “Hey, assholes! Where are you taking me?” I demand again.

  “Dude, we should have gagged her. Thank fuck we don’t have far to go,” one of the dickheads says, but I can’t make out whose voice it is through the hood on my head. If I had to guess, I’d say it was Preston grouching.

  After a five- or ten-minute drive, the car begins to slow as we turn off the main road. I start to bounce around in my seat, without a seatbelt on, as we move over an uneven, gravel lane, indicating we are on an off-road path, unlike the quiet plain of the tarmac road.

  After another few minutes of driving along the bumpy track, the car comes to a stop and both boys get out. Someone opens the back door and grabs a hold of my arm.

  “Come on Princess. We can do this the easy way or the hard way, entirely up to you.” Preston informs me as he starts pulling me out of the car.

  I can feel the sun heating my skin and birds are singing in the surrounding trees, the distinct smell of forest is all around me, telling me we are somewhere in the middle of the forest. Please don’t let this be where I die!

  I feel a presence on my other side just before Barrett says “Oooh, please choose the hard way. Feisty girls turn me right the fuck on…Be bad for me, baby,” he says, whispering the last part right into my ear, sending shivers up my spine. Stupid, traitorous body clearly hasn’t gotten the memo that we hate these guys.

  Knowing there is no point in putting up a fight, I decide to go along with whatever they have planned – for now. As much as these two piss me off, I don’t actually think they would physically harm me.

  We aren’t outside for long before we enter some sort of building. What little light was getting past the high canopy of trees has suddenly been shut out, and I can smell a dampness through the hood and a chill in the air now that we have stepped out of the sunlight.

  I am unceremoniously shoved down onto a chair and the hood is pulled off over my head, causing me to be suddenly blinded by the bright overhead lights.

  Looking around me, I am in what looks like a decent sized storage room. There are no windows so I can’t see outside and there are no other clues to tell me where I am. I’m sitting on a rickety old chair, with a small table beside me, pushed up against the wall. Preston and Barrett are leaning against the far wall, silently observing me as I take in my new surroundings.

  With nothing else to do, I turn my full attention to them. “Nice digs. I really like what you have done with the place,” I say, full of sarcasm, giving them my best death glare. Before I can ream them out some more, Preston holds up his hand to silence me.

  “No. Don’t talk. You are not in charge here Princess. We are. Now, we have some questions for you and, depending on how truthfully you answer them, depends on what state you leave here in – the same state as you arrived, a little worse for wear, or in a body bag. The choice is yours.” Preston states with a blank, impassive look on his face, not dissimilar to Aiden’s, letting me know he is one hundred percent serious right now.

  “You’d beat up a girl? My my, I underestimated you, Preston Donaghue. Thought your morals were a bit better than that.” I snap back, trying to calm my racing heart and work out how the hell I’m going to get out of this. While I still don’t think they would actually cause me lasting harm, I’d really prefer not to test that admittedly weak theory right now.

  “We would do anything for family,” he responds vaguely, only serving to confuse me further. Is he talking about his father, or the Belmonts? I was sure he and Barrett hated their parents, so why would they be working on their behalf. I must be missing something.

  “Besides, someone who has no issues with standing on the backs of others to get what they want deserves whatever they have coming,” Preston snarls cryptically.

  Ok now I know I have no idea what he’s talking about. I’m totally baffled by this whole thing. Standing on the backs of others? I have never used anyone to get ahead in life.

  My face must show my bewilderment because he continues on, “Now don’t play dumb with us, Princess. That shit won’t fly, it will only serve to piss us off.”

  Fuck, my palms are properly sweating now. This cannot be good. The only
reason I can think of as to why I’m here is that he wants information on my father, which of course I don’t have. Not that Preston or Barrett know that. They probably think I’m colluding with daddy dearest. Fuck my life, can this get any worse?!

  While I am still desperately trying to work out how to talk my way out of this, Barrett steps up to me and smacks his hand on the table beside me, the sound ricocheting off the walls and snapping me back to the situation in front of me. I have never seen him look so ferocious.

  “Pay attention!” He snaps. “We aren’t going to fucking ask you twice. We need answers, and we need them now. We aren’t letting this shit slide any longer. Your father has been sidling up to Charles and gaining favours from everyone who’s anyone in this town. We know he’s shady as fuck and whatever he’s doing here isn’t good. So be a good little girl and tell us what he’s up to, or we will send his precious daughter back to him in pieces,” he sneers at me.

  Holy fuck, the fun-loving, easy-going Barrett has left the building, and is replaced by this wild beast who is barely holding himself back. God, he is terrifying. The two of them are on par with Aiden and Tyler when they are like this.

  Deciding there’s nothing I can do but answer whatever questions I can and try and reason with them – it's not like I have any loyalty to my father anyway. If they want to go up against him then they can have at it – I sit silently and wait for question number one.

  “What are you and your father doing in Crescentwood?” Preston starts.

  “I’m just trying to get an education and be left alone,” I start before Preston growls at my defiance. Sighing, I level with them, “I have no idea what my father is doing here though.” I tell them honestly, staring Preston right in the eye so he can see my truth. His eyes narrow, not believing me in the slightest.

  Instead of pushing me on it though he moves on, “What business does your father have with mine?”

  “I don’t know. I know he’s trying to branch into an industry that he claims Charles is a key player in, but everyone knows they are in business together and Charles has several companies, so I don’t know specifically which one my dad is interested in.”

  I neglect to say anything about my father’s role in doing Charles's dirty work or the fact that I’m pretty sure their business dealings are illegal. I don’t have any evidence, or really understand what the situation is there, so I don’t see the point in handing over that piece of information.

  The questions go on and on like that, asking who my father works for, who he’s working with, what he’s doing here, etc etc. All of my answers are the same and despite them being the only honest answers I can provide, they are only serving to further rile up Preston.

  The tension in the room steadily rises, all three of us getting annoyed with one another. Eventually losing his cool, Preston leans down so our faces are inches apart, glaring at me with no emotion in his eyes. In this precise moment, he is the younger version of his father. The spitting image, right down to his soulless looking eyes. It’s a look I never want to see on him again. He deserves better than this life, than becoming the monster his father is.

  “This ‘I don’t know’ bullshit isn’t going to work, Princess. We want real fucking answers here.” He says in his deep, authoritative voice that usually causes my inner sex demon to rise to the surface, but right now it only sends a wave of fear through my body, causing me to quiver.

  “I told you I don’t know anything,” I murmur back, not needing to raise my voice with him so close to me.

  I plead with my eyes for him to believe me, shoving down my frustration at his stubbornness and unwillingness to listen to me. In this moment, I feel sorry for him. He has no one to trust, no one to rely on, except Barrett. I think the two of them are genuinely trying to do some good. I think all their aggression and fear tactics are coming from a good place. They know my dad is working with Charles and it scares them, which subsequently scares me too.

  Preston glares at me for a long moment before he turns away, pulling an envelope out of the back pocket of his school trousers. He slowly draws out a small stack of photos, giving me one last glance before dropping them onto the table beside me and spreading them out so I can see each one.

  Turning my head to take in whatever he wants me to see, I am confronted by several images of my father fucking some girl I don’t know. She looks like a stripper, or maybe an escort. I don’t know, and I don’t care. I could have lived without seeing the image of him dipping his dick though.

  I turn my gaze back to Preston, who must see the confusion on my face.

  “These photos were taken when your mom was still alive.”

  Oookayyy…so what?

  “When he was still married to her,” he further explains, causing the penny to drop. He thinks these are photos of my father cheating on my mum, based on the fake story my father has told the entire town.

  I can’t help the caustic laugh that spills out of me. Preston frowns down at me, confused by my reaction. Yeah, I can imagine it’s not what he expected.

  “Your father wasn’t loyal to your mother, so you shouldn’t be loyal to him,” he informs me, while I shake my head at this whole situation, continuing to chuckle under my breath.

  Not knowing what else to do, I make a split-second decision to tell them the truth about my past in the hopes they believe me. I don’t see that there is anything else I can do. I haven’t told anyone about my past since I talked to Thomas back when I first arrived.

  Knowing that he didn’t believe me only made me realise the power my father had, and I knew there was no point in trying to convince anyone else to believe what I had to say. I wouldn’t put it past my father to lock me in some mental institute, or murder me in cold blood, if he thought I was trying to ruin his reputation or trying to alert people to who he really is.

  However, I’ve had enough of sitting in this dingy room with these asshats looming over me. If it gets me out of here, I’ll give them my truth.

  So, with a final deep breath, hoping against hope that these two, believe me, I open my mouth and tell them about the real me. Details that I never wanted to share with another human being, and it pisses me off that I’m being forced to share details of myself with these two assholes, but it is what it is.

  Looking up at them, taking in their tired faces and messed up hair, sticking up all over the place from them running their hands through it in frustration, I start, “I grew up in a council house with my mum in Northern Ireland. She did the best she could, working odd jobs, but she suffered from mental health problems and wasn’t always able to hold down a job, or ensure a steady paycheck. It was always just the two of us, and while we never had any money, constantly trying to scrounge together enough pennies for food or the electric bill, we always had each other.” I maintain eye contact with the boys, dropping my mental walls so they can see the hurt, the pain, the heartache that consumes me, hoping they will finally see the truth in my eyes and realise I am not in on my father’s schemes like they think I am.

  “I never knew my father. My mother never talked about him, his name is not on my birth certificate. I had no idea who he was,” I state, noticing Preston’s eyebrows rising up at that piece of information, and the confused look that crosses Barrett’s face. Before they can interrupt, I continue on with my story,

  “That is, until my mother died, two weeks before I showed up here. I came home from work one day to find she had killed herself. It wasn’t her first attempt, hell it wasn’t even her fifth. As I said, she had her own demons,” I explain sadly, tears welling up in my eyes as I open myself up to the loss and overwhelming grief that comes with saying these words out loud.

  A few tears overflow and run down my face, but I don’t have the mental fortitude to stop them. Let them see my weakness, my pain. What good has being strong done me anyway?

  “A week after she died, my father,” I snarl, with my voice full of venom, showing them how much I despise the man, “had me shipped ove
r here, under the guise that he didn’t know I existed until then, claiming that he wanted to get to know his daughter.

  “I have since learnt that that was a crock of shit. He couldn’t give two fucks about me, only about what I can do for him.

  “I swear I am telling you the truth when I say I have no idea what my father is up to, or what his plans are with your father, Preston.

  “Trust me, it’s not for lack of trying. I have just as many questions as you do, but I haven’t been able to find out much information and he keeps me at arm’s length.

  “So far, all he has asked me to do is stay out of trouble, make friends with you lot, but, as you know, I haven’t been doing that,” I finish, leaving the room in a deep silence while they absorb my words and the impact of what I am saying.

  After a few minutes of silence, Barrett speaks up. “So, the story your father has been telling the town, about how he, you and your mother were a happy loving family until she died and you two moved here for a fresh start, that’s just a load of crap? None of that is true?” He asks, getting more and more worked up.

  Snorting at the audacious lie my father has been telling, I have no more words so I just nod in acknowledgement. I feel hollow now, after my confession and having to relive everything that I have been through in the last few months.

  “Why haven’t you told anyone before? You could have easily outed his lie by telling people the truth.” Preston demands, unsure of what to think about what I am saying and still trying to catch me in a lie.

  “You know as well as I do, that never would have worked. People wouldn’t have believed me, and, if my father caught wind of what I was saying to people, he could have easily made them believe I was mentally unstable after my mother’s death and looking for attention by making up stories.

  “I mentioned it once to Thomas, and the look of pity he gave me,” I start, trailing off and shaking my head, “He didn’t believe me and, I knew then, that there was no point in trying to convince anyone else,” I finish.