Expressionate (Expressions Series Book 1)

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Expressionate (Expressions Series Book 1) Page 28

by Lucy Smoke


  "Never again?" he demands.

  “Never again,” I promise as the door opens and woman in white steps in – a nurse. Her face tenses when she sees Tax. “Excuse me, sir, but you cannot be in the bed and visiting hours are almost over.”

  Tax sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead as he slides out from underneath me. “This isn’t over, Lovely. I’ll still be around. I’m not leaving.”

  I grab his hand, and naturally, our fingers twine together. “Where are you going?”

  He smiles, though the expression doesn’t reach up to his eyes. "The cafeteria or the waiting room," he says. "I'm not fucking leaving this building until you can come with me."

  I nod and release his hand. The nurse holds the door open for him and then proceeds to check my chart. She checks it over quietly and when she's done, I know she says something about my attending physician, but I don't hear a thing. All I can think about is Tax's arms around me again. My head hurts and though my throat is growing marginally better, I would rather do nothing but curl up in Tax's arms and let myself just drift away from everything we've gone through. I know, at some point, I'll have to talk to Trish.

  As the nurse sighs at my lack of reaction and starts for the door, it swings inward. Anne steps in. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but—"

  "I'll only be a moment," Anne says. The soft tone in her voice makes my back stiffen. She smiles sweetly at my nurse. "I just want to make sure my daughter is comfortable before I leave." The nurse falls for it, nodding to Anne – who looks like more of an upstanding citizen, I’m sure, than Tax – and quietly scoots out of the room, leaving me alone in the presence of a snake in disguise.

  “What do you want?” I say as Anne stops at the end of the bed. I shift over, feeling vulnerable and hating myself for the emotion. I glare at her, waiting for her vile tongue to start spitting her hatred at me.

  Anne doesn’t say anything for a long time, though. She just stands there, looking at me, inspecting me like I’m some sort of insect. And I can’t let it go anymore. It’s not completely her fault that I feel so goddamn worthless. A lot of it is because of me – how I perceive myself. But she didn’t fucking help. Not like she should have. I have to ask. I’m almost afraid of her answer, but Tax –Tax has made me stronger than I was. Though, maybe I’m not as strong as I feel now – there’s really no reason I should feel strong. I just tried to – I almost made a huge fucking mistake. It feels right, though, that he was the one to save me. Maybe he was always meant to. And that’s the belief that gives me strength now.

  I tilt my head to the side and examine her as she stares at me. “Why do you hate me?” I ask.

  Anne’s cold eyes meet mine and she slowly shakes her head. “It always has to be about you, doesn’t it, Love?” She chuckles, the sound foreign and odd. “It was always about you.”

  I don’t understand. “What do you mean?”

  “You think everything I’ve done has been out of hate?” she asks. “All I did was take care of you the way your mother never did.”

  She moves, shuffling her feet as though she can’t keep still. She paces, but not back and forth. Her legs carry her this way and that, almost a circle but it never quite meets or ends. She passes next to the window and then back to the bed.

  “Your father is my soulmate,” she says, “he was the first and only man to ever truly care for me. He took me out of the shithole I lived in. He was the perfect man. Much better than any of my previous indiscretions.” She pauses in her movement to look at me with a sneer. “It was so unfortunate that he had a little unwanted baggage attached by the time I came along.”

  “So, why didn’t you send me to boarding school or something?” I ask.

  She scoffs. “At first, we didn’t have the money. Believe me, had I been able to, I would have shipped you off at the first opportunity.” I don’t flinch when she says it. I expected as much, but still, it makes my stomach churn to hear her say it so bluntly.

  “I had eight miscarriages before I met your father, did you know that?” My mouth parts. No, I hadn’t known.

  She nods. “Yes,” she says. Her eyes go to the window, her gaze growing distant. She continues talking, but it’s less sharp, less biting. “Do you know what that does to a woman?” she asks.

  I can’t possibly imagine. I shake my head, sliding my feet over, feeling like I need to stand. “No,” I say as my feet touch the cool tile and I rise.

  “None of the children were planned, but that didn’t make any of them unwanted. Still, though, they died. The first one wasn’t easy. In fact, I think it may have been the hardest. After so many, they all sort of ran together in my head. But I remember that first one quite clearly. I always wanted to be a mother and when I lost my precious baby boy, it wrecked me.”

  Anne’s eyes turn on me so sharply, I almost take a step back and fall back on the bed. Instead, my legs hit it and a hand goes out, stopping on the mattress. The floor under my bare feet is cold and the smell of disinfectant permeates the room. Lysol. Bleach. Clean and yet, so dirty. Animosity moves across her face like a slithering serpent.

  “Wrecked me,” Anne repeats, her voice is shrill and her eyes wild. But I know she needs to get this out. I feel like it’s building to something. Something that I’m a part of.

  “I couldn’t stop wondering what I did wrong. Did I not eat enough? Not sleep enough? Sleep too much? What could I have changed or not changed to save my son’s life? Then, afterward, no matter how careful I was, I always lost them.”

  I frown, moving away from the bed as Anne touches her stomach. I hesitate for a moment, before I move around her towards the window. My legs feel weak. I have to use the bed for support for most of the way. She watches me go.

  “The doctor’s said it had something to do with the shape of my uterus that made it difficult to carry to term.” Anne’s hands touch her abdomen through her clothes, her eyes wistful and filled with such a deep, agonizing pain. “Then I met David. Trisha was born, my miracle baby. The only baby I had that lived. I knew then that David was the one for me. It was because of him that she survived unlike the rest. But, then there was you.”

  The fire burning in her irises blooms like a raging volcanic eruption just waiting to be released. She takes a step towards me. “Your mother had it easy. She had children left and right – your father told me. He didn’t know their names, where they were, or who they were left with. Before you, she had plenty of children. They were all taken from her in some way or another. But you weren’t, and she left you anyway. That was when I knew there was something very wrong about you. What mother would leave her child? You had to be damaged in some way.”

  My throat closes. I want to tell her that I’m not damaged, but it would be a lie. Because now, after years with her, and then Danny, I am damaged. I’m so damaged that I almost killed myself.

  A shock rockets through me. The reality of what I almost accomplished. A taboo. It makes me sick. That acrid taste is back.

  “I didn’t want you ruining my daughter,” Anne continues, her tone high and thin. “You were soiled – broken. I didn’t want you anywhere near her. But David didn’t understand. He wouldn’t just leave you, ship you off, find a family member to take you in. You were his daughter.” She spits the word as though it’s bile on her tongue. “You weren’t mine.”

  Anne steps up to me, close enough to touch, but I’m not thinking about that. I have to control myself. I inhale and hold for several moments before I release my breath in a rush of air and a question. “That’s why you treated me so harshly?”

  Anne is so close to me now that when she laughs, spittle flies out of her mouth and it hits my face. “Harshly?” She says the word as though it is absurd. “I was kind to you. You lived in the same room as my Trisha, my daughter. And when you left, oh, I was overjoyed. I was so happy that you left, but I’m still a mother after all.” She scowls at me. “You weren’t mine, but I had to make sure you would be taken care of. I do love your father, after all. So, I
found you a man.”

  My lips part in shock. “What?” I couldn’t have heard her right.

  “Yes,” she insists, “I was very good to you. He sheltered you and fed you and clothed you, didn’t he? I taught you a valuable lesson, Love. You can’t get by in this world without a man to protect you.”

  My brows lower. I tilt my head back and at an angle. “What are you talking about?” The words she’s saying don’t make any sense.

  “You really don’t know, do you? He never told you?” Before I can answer, she laughs. It slaps the walls of the room and hurts my ears.

  “Danny!” she finally manages to scream, more spit hitting my cheek. I wipe it away with shaky fingers. She laughs. “I knew him from before I met your father. Danny was—” she cuts herself off, grimacing. My skin begins to tingle as horror dawns. “Well, he was one of those discretions of mine. I told him exactly where you would be when you ran away. Showed him your picture and told him if he was interested to give it a go.” Anne finally calms down, her laughter trickling off while my entire body feels frozen. “And you acted beautifully. You did exactly as you should have. I think I would have preferred if you had gotten married first, but I know how Danny can be. The only commitment he’s good for is a dick up the ass on occasion or his love for beer.”

  Needle sharp pins prick at my skin. Down my arms. Over my shoulders. I can’t seem to get enough oxygen into my throat. “You sent Danny to me.” It’s not a question, but she treats it as one.

  “Yes, of course.” And she knew, I realize. She knew what he would do to me. I still remember the day quite clearly…the first day of the three most painful and shame filled years of my life.

  (16 years old)

  I leave a note – my first and last. Maybe someday, far in the future, I can come back and find something inside this house other than Anne’s shadow and the missing presence of someone who cares – someone other than Trish. I know she cares. She seems to be the only one. Not even I care as much as she does.

  I can’t tell her, though. She’ll try to stop me, and I’m scared I might let her.

  So, I leave the note detailing where I’ll be – far away from here, telling Trish that I love her and telling Dad that I wish…well, what I wish for doesn’t matter anymore. But it felt good to write it out, like cleaning out my soul.

  I take the backpack full of clothes and toiletries, and I leave the house. Maybe I’ll finish high school online. Maybe I’ll get my GED. I don’t really know what I’m going to do anymore. But I do know that I can’t stay here.

  As I move towards the front of the house, the backdoor creaks open and Anne steps through, holding a straw hat on her head and a basket of gardening supplies. When she catches sight of me, she stops and scowls. “What are you doing here?” she snaps. “You’re supposed to be at school.”

  She takes in my clothes, the layering, and the backpack as well as the smaller satchel at my side. I sigh and ignore her, continuing my path.

  “Excuse me, you will answer me when I speak to you, Love.” I hate the way she says my name – like it’s a curse. Coming from her, it sounds like the vilest of insults.

  I keep walking. I’m so focused on leaving, on getting out, I don’t even notice that she’s followed me. When my hand touches the doorknob, Anne’s own hand closes around my shoulder, spinning me around as she slams me against the wood. My satchel falls to the floor. I feel a creeping coldness come over me as Anne hisses at me.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “I’m leaving,” I say.

  Anne blinks at me, pulling back. She looks me over, glancing once more at my full bags. She chuckles and it quickly turns into full-blown laughter. Tears run down her cheeks as I lean down and pick up the satchel.

  “You’re leaving?” Anne continues to laugh, wiping fresh tears from her eyes as they continue to fall.

  I merely twist the handle on the door, swing it inward, and step out onto the porch. That makes her stop laughing. Anne follows me as I make my way to the street where the Uber I called is waiting.

  “Oh, this is rich,” she calls out. “You really think you’re leaving.”

  Stopping on the sidewalk, I turn on my heel nearly causing Anne to collide with me. She scowls and barely manages to stop herself in time, waving away the fuzzy hair hanging around her face in the sticky southern heat. I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. I look straight at her as I drop it on the ground and then open the Uber’s backdoor. There’s a dark-skinned man sitting up front, looking over his shoulder between Anne and me.

  “You really think you’re leaving?” she says, shocked.

  Anger bites at my mind. I whip my head in her direction and I glare. “I don’t think,” I snap. “I know I’m leaving.”

  “And just where do you think you’re going?” she challenges me, propping her hands on her hips.

  “Any-fucking-place you aren’t.”

  “Well, you’ll need money.”

  “I have a job,” I snap.

  “What you need is a man,” she says.

  “That’s what you need,” I reply.

  Anne shakes her head at me as she leans into the interior of the car. “A man is the only thing that’ll protect you from the streets, little girl, remember that.” She steps back, and I slam the door. She lifts a brow, but I shake my head and motion for the driver to go. He knows where to go. I typed it in right before I left my phone behind. It’s the only place I can go. Anne watches with a gaping mouth as the light gray sedan pulls away from the curb. Even though it’s hot, dark clouds hover in the periphery of the sky. Rain is coming soon. Once it does, it’ll wash away the past and maybe me as well. One can only hope.

  Hours later, I’m sitting outside of the convenience store where I used to work – I say used to because apparently Anne knew exactly how to get the last laugh. I had walked into work, fully expecting to pick up the extra shift I had agreed to today, and then asked a fellow coworker for a place to crash. It would have just been for the night. Just one night was all I needed. I would figure shit out – maybe convince them to let me work and pay half the rent if I could just stay on the couch. But that’s not what happened. The second I’d stepped into the store, I knew something was wrong. My manager had pulled me back into his office the moment he saw me. Anne. She always found a way to ruin me. This time, it had been the threat of calling their corporate office for supporting a runaway.

  So, here I was, sitting on the corner, watching cars go by as the dark clouds grew ever closer. A sleek, red truck pulls up and parks.

  “Need a lift somewhere, sweetheart?” he grins. His dark hair is shoved to the side to reveal empty, brown eyes.

  “Maybe,” I reply, feeling an idea sneaking into my mind.

  “Hop on in,” he says, and I throw my bags into the bed of his truck as I pass around the back and open the passenger side door. The man turns the ignition once more and the truck cranks to life.

  “So, where to?” he asks as I slide into the cool interior.

  “Wherever you want,” I offer. It’s not like I have anywhere in mind.

  “Well, little girl,” the man says. “I gotta tell ya, this ride isn’t cheap.”

  I stare straight back at him, Anne’s reminder running through my head. “What did you have in mind?” I ask. “I don’t have much money.” The guy grins at me, his eyes trailing down to my wet legs and up to my damp t-shirt.

  “Who said anything about money?” he asks. Protection. Survival. There’s no way I can go back to Anne.

  “Whatever you want,” I say – my anger rising even as the words spit out of my mouth. “You can just fucking take it.” Anne’s already taken my home and my life. Let this fucker have my pride too. Fuck him. Fuck Anne. I close my eyes and rest my head against the seatback. I thought it would feel more painful. I thought I would feel disgusted, but right now this seems like the only way I can go. It’s the only way to move forward.

  “Alright, then,” he smiles, and I’m
falling down yet another path that will lead me into hell.

  (Present Day)

  “And I’ve brought him back for you,” Anne says, drawing me away from my dark memories.

  I blink at her, confused. “Brought…?” The door across the room opens before I finish the question and ice bricks land on my chest, stealing my air, and sending tingles of panic shooting through my veins.

  “Hi, little girl.” I would take a step back, but there’s nowhere to go. Anne smiles at me as she moves towards the door and Danny closes it behind him.

  “You should pick up where you left off,” Anne says. “I’m sure you have so much to catch up on.”

  I shake my head almost violently, and when Danny reaches me, I turn my head to her. “Don’t leave,” I say.

  Anne tilts her head to the side. “Don’t worry, Love,” she says. “He’ll take good care of you, just like he always has.”

  The door closes behind her, and Danny’s eyes roam over the skin exposed by my hospital gown. My throat squeezes shut. “Don’t you worry,” he says. “Your Momma and I knew you needed me after that call last night.”

  “She’s not my mother,” I say between clenched teeth. At least now I know how he got my number. It seemed too convenient that he would come back into my life – those text messages, that phone call. “Stay the fuck away from me.” I jerk away from him.

  Instead of heeding my warning, though, he moves closer. “Nah, don’t be like that – I know you missed me, Baby.”

  I shake my head again. “I’m not going with you, Danny. Our relationship is over. You’re delusional if you think I’m going with you. I was a child then and you should never have come near me. I’ll be damned if I let you touch me now.” I edge to the side, away from him and dart towards the door. The second I make my break to get past him, he reaches out and latches onto my arm.

  “You used to be smart enough to do what I said. You’re not a child anymore, little girl. You’re all woman.” His lecherous eyes move downward, and shame spirals up my spine. “I just came back to claim what was mine. You disappeared on me so suddenly, I thought you had gotten yourself killed.” His grip tightens on my arm and a whimper escapes my lips as he presses himself against me. “I missed you so much, baby. I can’t wait to shove my cock back in your tight, little pussy.”

 

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