by Erin Osborne
I had to set my alarm since sleep was almost non-existent for me last night. When Gwen walked into the kitchen in her pajamas, I almost swallowed my tongue. She was wearing a pink pair of pants with a matching tank top. What she wasn’t wearing was a bra. I could see her nipples poking through the thin material of her top the second she walked in the room. Gwen had no clue what I was looking at either. She simply doesn’t think about those things. That’s how innocent my girl is. There was no way in hell I was about to call her out on it. I want Gwen to feel safe around me. Not as if I can’t handle seeing her in her damn pajamas.
Dinner wasn’t the easy meal I’d been hoping for since it was her first night in our home. It was awkward and filled with tension in the air. Tension so thick I could’ve cut it with my knife. Gwen didn’t know what to do either. I could see her mind working as she tried to figure out what to say to me. She never says a lot to me unless she has to. The only thing I get out of her is her blushing from head to toe. Last night showed me her chest does in fact turn red when she blushes.
This morning, I stayed still for as long as I could while her eyes roamed my body. Gwen’s eyes landed on my tattoos as they always do. She’s always looking at tattoos on everyone. Especially me. I’m not sure if it’s because she wants one or if she simply likes looking at the ink marked on everyone’s skin. I’m not going to complain about her eyes being on me though. I’ll take whatever look she wants to give me and let her look her fill when I can.
Yes, I’m a selfish fuck and want her eyes always on me. I want to be the only man she sees and get to know my body only.
There is something different about Gwen this morning and I need to know what’s going on. She’s nervous and fidgety without even realizing she’s playing with her fingers or the necklace resting around her neck. It’s something Kim got her shortly after she moved here, and my Sparrow never takes it off. At least not that I’ve seen and I’m always looking at her.
Making a split-second decision, I head up to my room so I can get dressed. I don’t bother with taking a shower because I already did that at some point in the early hours of the morning. After making sure my hair was up and I had everything I’d need for the day, I carefully waited until Gwen left.
With my bike, I need to give her a slight head start so she doesn’t see me following her. It’s not as if I don’t know where she’s going so I can afford to be a few minutes behind her. As I pull in the parking lot of the community center, I immediately zero in on Gwen’s car. She’s still sitting behind the wheel as I park my bike in the far corner of the lot under a tree. From where I’m standing, Gwen is lost in her own pain filled world. I want nothing more than to rush to her side and take that pain away. To carry the burden from her and carry it on my shoulders.
Instead, I remain sitting on my bike until she gets out of her car. For a minute, I don’t make a move to follow her. I’m content to watch her hesitant steps carry her across the parking lot until she disappears through the doors of the center. Now, it’s time for me to make my move.
Rushing across the pavement, I don’t stop for anything or anyone. I don’t slow down until I’m through the same doors my girl disappeared through a few minutes ago. When I get to the room they meet in, I see Denise standing outside. She’s always out here to greet the members as they make their way inside the room.
“Killer, what are you doing here?” Denise asks when I stop next to her.
“You know why I’m here. How is she doin’?” I question, knowing I can’t have any details based on the law, but I can be told if she’s okay.
“It’s a daily process. I’ve told you this. I’m hoping today is a major breakthrough for her,” she replies.
“Why is that?” I immediately need to know.
“Gwen is getting up to share her story. She still hasn’t talked to Kim or anyone else, has she?” Denise questions me.
“No. None of us know how to help her. She still won’t let Kim or any of the women come to a session with her, so we know how to break down her defenses to talk to us. Denise, I need this. I need to be in there to hear what she’s been through,” I order, knowing down to my bones I need to hear her story and be there even if she doesn’t know I’m there.
Denise looks at me for several seconds, trying to determine what game I’m playing. She’ll find the truth in my eyes about how I feel for Gwen. I won’t hide anything from her.
“If I let you do this, you better keep it to yourself. Kim or anyone else can’t know what I’m about to do. If I didn’t see how bad you love that girl, I wouldn’t even be thinking of helping you. Don’t make me regret this Killer,” she warns me.
Nodding my head, I listen as Denise tells me to wait in the hall until I hear her announce Gwen about to get up to speak. Then I can sneak in and remain against the wall. I’ll still be able to hear my girl speak from there. It also allows me to slip back out the door once Gwen is done talking. I’m only here for her and don’t need to hear what anyone else has to say. They aren’t my business.
The second I hear Gwen’s soft, melodic voice begin to speak, I’m through the door. My eyes land on her small form as she curls in on herself. Gwen is trying to protect herself even now.
“Growing up, I didn’t have your normal childhood. I wasn’t allowed to go to school. Instead I had tutors. If I got too close to them, they were quickly replaced with someone new. This process repeated until I gave up trying to let someone else in my life. Friends were only things I read about in the books I managed to hide from my father and his men. I never had a friend growing up. There was no one for me to talk to or share things with. The only thing I could do was sit in silence and realize there was nothing I could do to change it. The only time I could talk to anyone was if my father had a party. Then, kids my age were allowed to speak to me because it would allow my father to seem as if he was a kind, loving father.
“It was just my father and me from the time I turned three until a few years ago when I managed to get away from him with the help of my sister. My mom simply disappeared one day without a word. I didn’t ask about her until I turned four. That was the first day I was beaten so bad I spent almost two weeks in bed. I wasn’t taken care of by anyone; I was simply left to suffer in silent misery.
“When I was healed enough to move around, I became another servant of my father’s. At four-years old I was expected to clean, help cook, learn from the men and women who worked for him. If I didn’t do my tasks good enough, I was taken to a room and beaten again. Or I’d be locked in a closet with no food, water, or light for days on end. Even when I wasn’t in the room for a punishment, I couldn’t eat hardly any food at all.
“My room was cold with no insolation, walls, or anything else. I didn’t have toys, warm blankets, or even warm clothes to wear. My bed was nothing more than a cot placed in the middle of a desolate area in the attic with a few other people. The only time I saw the nice bedroom decorated for me was if my father was having a party or some event he needed me by his side for. Then I was permitted to enter my ‘other bedroom’ to dress in fancy clothes and make sure everyone thought I was protected and loved. The second he could, my father forced me back into the rags I was wearing, and the beatings and torture would start again.
“There isn’t a day I wasn’t yelled at for the slightest infraction. Told I was useless, a waste of space, someone who should’ve been aborted instead of born, and anything else my father could say to hurt me. I was kept dirty, unkempt, and not allowed much other than a bowl of water to wash myself up with once or twice a week. There was never any love or care from him unless people were around. People other than those who worked for him. Those people didn’t count to him because they were his servants. Nothing more than I was as his daughter.
“Every year I only had more and more work added on to my daily list of tasks to complete. He didn’t give a shit if I got any sleep, ate, or took care of basic human necessities. If I tried to get out of work, I was beaten. The only time I�
��d cut corners to try and get my work done was when exhaustion was taking over completely. There were so many days I could barely keep my eyes open while I tried to work in the house my father kept us all locked up in.
“The older I got, the more his men would taunt me about raping me. They wanted me and didn’t make any bones about it. From the day I got my first period, I was old enough for them. At least that’s what they told me on a daily basis. I was constantly looking over my shoulder for the men in case they decided to go against my father and rape me. Do you know what that’s like?” Gwen says, speaking slow and quietly as tears stream down her face.
Gwen’s body is folded in on herself as she recounts what she’s been through. Never in a million years did I think things were as bad as what she’s explaining to these women in the room. The feeling to race to her and hold her in my arms rushes through every fiber of my being. Instead, I fight the feelings and remain rooted to where I’m at in the back of the room. After taking a deep breath, Gwen goes on.
“When I got old enough, one of my father’s associates started to take an interest in me. His name is Neil. He didn’t have any qualms about making it known he wanted me simply to have me obey him as a trophy wife. One night, when he came over for dinner, he took things from me no man has a right to take. After dinner, Neil walked me to the room I used when company was over. Instead of letting me go in the room alone, he followed me in. That was the night I lost my virginity because Neil raped me. No one would help me or stop him. Everyone kept their distance and didn’t say a word because they knew they’d be punished.
“I had to clean myself up alone and then make my way back to help clean the house after Neil left. Until right this second, I don’t honestly know if anyone has ever been told about what he did to me. When the rape happened, he was extremely brutal, and I bled for several days. There wasn’t an inch of my skin that wasn’t bruised, cut open, or without pain. I had never felt anything like it before in my life. Including all the beatings I had in the past.
“From there, Neil would take every opportunity to use and abuse me. He would say and do things to make me feel so broken and less than a human being, I didn’t know what to do. My father wasn’t any help. The only thing he did was laugh about things and encourage Neil to keep going and saying shit. I honestly didn’t expect any help from my father though.
“It was a long time before I was rescued from my father’s hell. That was also the time I found my sister. We have the same father, but different mothers. I’m not sure what I’d do without her in my life now. Or with the Phantom Bastards because she is with one of the men in the club. Now, the only thing I wish I’d have is some freedom. I have no life experiences and I feel like a freak because of it,” Gwen finally finishes, tears continuously falling down her face as she rushes from the front of the group and takes a seat.
My blood is boiling with rage. I wish I could get my hands on the fuckers who hurt her. There isn’t any way possible for me to do that though. Not without some massive help and favors being called in. I’ll figure something out though. Gwen’s father will pay for the rest of his days for not protecting his daughter.
While everyone is clapping for Gwen for having the courage to get up in front of them and share her story, I make my way out after giving a nod to Denise in thanks for letting me hear this. I keep my temper until I’m outside of the community center because there’s no way in hell I’m going to punch holes in the walls here. Instead, I’ll go for a ride on my bike. If that doesn’t help curb my anger, I’ll meet up with Stryker. He’ll help me get some anger out in the ring.
I practically run to my bike so I can get the fuck away from here. If I don’t leave now, I’m going to head right back inside that room I’m not supposed to be in for Gwen. Then she’ll know I heard her story and she’s not ready for that just yet. It’s one thing to tell your story to a bunch of people you see once a week. When it comes to your friends and family, it’s a completely different situation altogether. I’m not going to add that stress to her right this second.
Straddling my bike, I quickly turn on the engine and race from the center’s parking lot. For a while I simply ride around town. Part of me is waiting to get pulled over because I don’t have my helmet on. We do have a helmet law here and I don’t give a fuck about wearing it right now. I probably should be because if anything happens I’m dead. There is nothing to save me from the road or anything else I hit. Right now, I simply need to get away from the thoughts of hurting those who have harmed my woman. I only want to make things better for her. To ensure she never has anything else to worry about.
Chapter Three
Gwen
KILLER IS GONE from the house most days. While he’s gone doing whatever he does for the club, I’ve been looking for a job online. It hasn’t been easy because I have no experience of any kind. However, I finally found a place that didn’t care about my lack of work experience. Unfortunately, I don’t have any experience doing what needs to be done at my new job either.
The job I got is working at an adult toy store. No one knows I’ve got a job at this point and I don’t care to tell anyone. Sometimes it sucks with everyone being up in my business. I know it’s because my sister and everyone else cares about me and wants me to be happy. However, they all seem to have to know my business and what I do on a daily basis.
Today is my first day of work and I’m not sure what to expect. I’m nervous as hell, but I’ll get through it. If I can survive my father and Neil, I can survive almost anything at all. At least that’s what I’m telling myself as I grab my purse and make my way through the door to head out for the day.
Killer has been gone for the last few days. I mean he’s here at night, holed up in his room. I barely see him, and he doesn’t talk to me unless it’s absolutely necessary. It’s almost as if the same day I spoke in front of my group, a switch flipped in him and he doesn’t know what to do with me living here. If it’s that much of a problem, I can find my own place. Fox already said he’d help me with it.
The day I spoke at group is something I don’t want to have to do again. I know it’s not realistic to think I’ll never talk to them again; I will at some point. However, it took so much out of me to share my story. Denise even learned new things she didn’t already know from our counselling sessions. Like the rape from Neil and how my father encouraged his lewd, disrespectful behavior. Or how so many different men had a hand in the beatings I suffered on a regular basis. I’m sure we’ll be discussing them in detail at my next appointment with her.
On the other hand, I almost feel free now. As if the weight of my past isn’t holding me back any longer. Now that I’ve shared my story, it seems as if I can move on fully with my life. I don’t have any restrictions anymore to stop me from accomplishing what I want to do and become.
It doesn’t take me long to get to Naughty Peach, the store I’m working at now. Parking at the end of the building, I remain in my car so I can get myself under control. I’m not prepared for this at all, but I have to do this. Now that I’m living with Killer, I have to make my own money. Hell, I’ve always needed to make my own money however Kim and Fox weren’t too happy about me trying to find a job. Even when I suggested working for the club in some capacity, I was shot down quicker than hell.
Finally, after composing myself, I take a final look at my appearance in the mirror. While I don’t wear a ton of make-up, my eyeshadow is a light color with a swipe of mascara. That’s all I wear. Even when the girls try to give me makeovers, I don’t allow them to do more than the bare minimum to me. For me, I don’t understand the point of covering my face. Not that I believe they’re wrong when they wear make-up; it’s just not for me.
Walking through the gravel filled parking lot, I notice there aren’t any cars here right now. I know Naughty Peach is open; it’s a twenty-four-hour store. I guess when you have a need for toys to use during sex, there is no time limit on it.
The door is standing open with Mark
, the guy who will be training me, is standing there smoking. He offers me a smile and steps back so I can enter the store.
“Gwen, it’s good to see you again. Are you ready to learn the ropes?” he questions me, tossing his cigarette in a can outside the door.
“As ready as I can be,” I respond, my face already turning several shades of red.
“You’ll do fine. Monday’s are usually one of our slower days. We’ll still be busy though with sorting through new stock and making sure the shelves are fully stocked. I won’t leave you alone to do things on your own. When we’re putting stock away, we’ll work in the same aisles and I’ll show you how to zone the area as well,” Mark informs me, showing me where to place my purse behind the counter.
Before we can get started on a tour of the store, the phone rings. Mark tells me to walk around a little bit while he’s taking care of the call. I walk over and see a shelf full of nothing but vibrators according to the label on the packaging. They range in size from ones so small I’m not sure what they’d be used for to extra-large. My eyes widen at the sizes of the larger ones because there is no way I can picture anything that big fitting in a human body.
That’s where Mark finds me standing when he’s off the phone with the customer. I’m so absorbed in taking them all in, I don’t hear him until his laughter fills the abandoned store.
“Are you okay?” he asks me, trying to stop laughing.
“I don’t honestly know,” I reply dryly.
“Your face is priceless right now. As red as a fire engine and a look of pure shock radiating from you. You look like a pure innocent right now,” he comments, standing straight up and pulling me from the display in front of us. “Let’s get back to work.”
The next several hours are busy as hell. Mark shows me where the clothing section is, our limited stock of shoes made for strippers in my opinion. I honestly don’t know anyone who would wear shoes like that for a man during the few minutes sex lasts. Not to mention the crotchless panties. I’ve never seen a pair of them in my life until today. Again, my face is red as hell and there’s nothing I can do about it. I foresee myself blushing a ton while I’m working here.
