Protective Love (Hidden Secrets)

by P. J. Belden

  PROTECTIVE LOVE

  P. J. BELDEN

  Copyright © 2013 P. J. Belden

  First published 2013

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author, addressed “Request: Copyright Approval” at j.p.belden@gmail.com.

  Table of Contents

  Letter to Reader

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Epilogue

  Preview to future work

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  To my amazing husband who has stood by me through so much… I love you with all my heart. To my three beautiful children, I love you so much. You are the reason mommy is doing this!

  Dear Reader,

  The content of this book is not an easy topic to talk about or live through. However, it does happen and far too often. Many times the victims are too scared or ashamed to come forward. For whatever reason, we blame ourselves and we lose ourselves by doing so.

  This book is about a rape victim hiding before realizing she needs to fight. There are scenes from her rapes that she has nightmares about as well as present. I tried to keep as many of those scenes down played as possible, but I wanted to offer a warning to the reader.

  Having said all that, if you or someone you know is being or has been sexual assaulted… please encourage them to get help. The only way it will ever stop is if you call them out on it, so they can no longer hide.

  Here is a site that offers AMAZING support to those that need it.

  http://apps.rainn.org/ohl-bridge/?gclid=CJfI2diHvbcCFYplOgodr0kAYg

  This story is near to my heart and it breaks my heart that there are so many more out there suffering alone when they could have support to get them past this. It is not an easy road to travel down. Be strong. A very dear person to me once said… “It isn’t something that we did. It is something that was done to us.” She is exactly right!

  Thank you all for your support and I hope you enjoy the story. Inside all the darkness, there is a beautiful love story being told.

  Hugs!

  P. J. Belden

  PROLOGUE

  Twelve years earlier

  How much longer will this last? I certainly didn’t think it would last as long as it has. If I were to be broken any more I would be in pieces as small as a grain of sand.

  Dragging myself into my bathroom, I locked the door and turned on my radio loud enough to drown out anyone who might come into my room.

  Placing my hands on the sink in front of me, I looked at myself in the mirror. My right eye was already swollen and starting to bruise. Reaching up and carefully running my finger down the right side of my face, I winced in pain when I got to the cut just below my cheekbone. I was a hideous beast; a plaything for a sick and twisted guy. I have used so many excuses covering up for any visible marks on me. They have never been this bad. How can I hide this one? How can I make this one go away?

  Falling to the floor, I cried out as my back slammed against my vanity. Nightmare can’t even describe what I am trapped in. A nightmare is something from which you wake up in a panic before realizing it was all a dream and real life isn’t like that. No this is my life.

  I pulled my legs up to my chest and winced when my legs touched each other. Spreading my legs apart, I could see the bruising there - and the blood. I ran my fingers over the small little bruises; they were from his fingers digging into me. The half circle marks just above that was where he bit me while I fought and begged with everything I had.

  The bite marks and nail marks on my other leg was the source of all the blood. Those broke the skin, and some of them were deep. Pulling myself up off the floor, I turned on my shower and took what was left of my clothing off. He’d ripped them in his rush to get them out of the way. There were barely shreds left of my clothes. As I was throwing my clothes away, I caught another glimpse of myself in the mirror.

  Oh God!

  I was hideous. A beast in my own skin fighting against myself to be set free; fighting to forget, to run and hide, or to stand and kill the son of a bitch.

  These aren't normal thoughts for me. A beast in my own life. How do I get my life back - or is that even possible? Has he destroyed me so much that I can't even own my own life?

  Laughter filled me and came out when I realized, I was like Humpty Dumpty and no one could put me back together, no matter how they tried. This thought caused me to laugh until I had tears falling down and landing on the floor. My body shook, but not from laughter this time. Instead, it was the crying that I knew would be coming, but had hoped wouldn’t. Every jerk of my body - every deep breath - sent sharp pains running through me.

  Steam was filling the room, adding a haze to my image in the mirror. It was fitting, like the dark, eerie forest with thick fog hiding the creatures of the night. I took one last look before I stepped into the shower. The first sprays of water that hit my skin burned, but it was better than the pain I had been feeling; the empty, hollow pain that seemed to ache, but never heal. It was always with me, like phantom pains that stayed with me each day. It was hard to forget when you kept feeling the pain. That was all I wanted to do; forget. Forget that he ever touched me. Forget that he ever hit me. Forget that I ever met him. I just wanted to forget it all. I wanted to forget everything about Alex Greene and the things that he did to me. It seemed that my brain seemed to want me to remember, and my body… my body couldn’t forget the damage that had been done to it over the years. All the remembering wasn’t even the worst part, either.

  My nightmares were worse; I was there again in the moment when the pain was inflicted. That was harder to handle than the ones that hovered over me constantly. In my dream, I was stuck and left to suffer it over and over again. Living it once was hard enough, but to relive it and feel it all as intensely as the first time was torture. My brothers had come in several times and tried to comfort me, but it was hard having anyone that close to me. Once I’d had one of my nightmares, it was nearly impossible to fall back asleep. So often times, I would be up the majority of the night. Being awake with it so quiet was enough to make me wish I could sleep. Quiet meant the voices in my head could be heard easily. I didn’t want to hear the voices. I hate the voices. They were always him, screaming, grunting, panting, whispering; no, I hated the voices.

  I stood under the shower, washed and rinsed, and then just let the water try and wipe the grime away that I felt after each
attack. If there was a way to completely wash it away, I hadn’t found it yet. I stood there completely alone, no one to turn to for help or understanding. If I said anything, I was putting my life - as well as the lives of whomever I told - in danger. My life? Hell, I didn’t care much about that anymore. But to endanger someone else’s life… I couldn’t do that.

  The water turned cold, so I stepped out and dried myself off before slipping on my sweats and tank top. Being in a house full of people and still having the feeling of being completely separate from them was almost as if I was watching my life rather than participating in it. I hated no one and everyone all at the same time. Filled with confusing, conflicting emotions, and yet the person I really hated was me. It was my fault I was in this boat. I couldn’t fight hard enough. I couldn’t save myself. Even if I wasn’t able to save myself, how can I even think to ask someone else to help?

  Knock knock knock…

  I sighed. I didn’t want anyone to see me. Today was enough to deal with on my own, it would only be tougher if someone else saw me too.

  “Go away. Get out of my room.”

  I hated that my voice was shaky. Strength came from within, and that was all I had that kept me making it through each day.

  “I need to talk to you. Now!”

  Dad sounded pissed. Just what I needed - a lecture on top of everything else today. I threw the towel around my shoulders and hoped it covered enough of my markings that weren’t covered by my clothes. Taking a deep breath and putting my head down, I opened the door and walked out to my room.

  “What have you done to your room? I’m shocked to see this from you, Kayla. One rule, we have in this house and that is to keep ourselves and our spaces clean; that includes this room. You’re grounded, Kayla. No summer camp this year.”

  Dad was right; the room was in shambles. I never left my room like that, but then again, it wasn’t me willingly doing it, now was it? My bed was messed up, with pillows and blankets everywhere. My side table had been turned over, and everything that was on it was on the floor. The shelves that held my books and movies were empty. If my father would just look around more than just a glance, he would see the blood speckling my sheets and the floor. If he would breathe in, he could smell it in the air. Maybe that was just me. I can smell the dirtiness he left behind. I can smell the fear.

  Please look harder daddy… please save me. Notice on your own because I cannot tell you on my own. Lift my face up. Make me look at you. Save me daddy; he’s going to kill me one day. I’m not ready to die. God, daddy please… I’m so scared and alone. Someone save me… please.

  He didn’t do any of that. Why would he? There was no reason he should suspect anything out of the ordinary to have happened there. To him and anyone else, it was an open and shut case. I was being destructive, and punishment needed to be given.

  Damn! I have to clean up this mess.

  Whenever I looked around my room, I relived the moment - this time as well as the others before it.

  I need to get out of here. Two more years - that’s it, and I can get away from this place and the memories… but not the nightmares it carries.

  My father continued to yell at me for the mess in my room. I kept my head down and nodded where needed. The burning in my eyes was intense and I was holding the tears at bay the best I could. I’d just had my only sanctuary taken from me, leaving behind nothing but a mess, by having the shit beat out of me and being raped. Tears fell, and I knew my dad saw them because he stopped yelling and told me to go to bed before leaving my room. Once my door shut, I cried and cried. It was in that moment that every hope I’d had disappeared, and anger and resentment took its place.

  I stared out at my bedroom window. The sad thing was that he didn’t even have to use that half the time. For most of the attacks, he just walked through the front door. I don’t know how he broke away from my brother without raising alarms, but he did. I tried locking my door, but it doesn’t help. That’s when he uses the window. The latch is broken, so I can’t lock it. I tried to put stuff in there to keep it from opening, but it never worked. I couldn’t get away from him. He was everywhere I was; school, work, shopping… everywhere.

  Getting off my bed, still crying, I found my paper and a pen, then wrote out a short little note. It was not to my family, but instead to the man that had haunted me for the past four years. This note was not a ‘give up’ speech. It was to let him know I would not go down without a fight. It was writing out the courage I needed to keep moving through life. I would keep this note with me for as long as I needed the courage and strength to push forward.

  “One day, it will be your time to suffer. One day, I will be there smiling as you taste revenge at its best. You may have broken and hurt me now, but it won’t be like this forever, and you will soon see what messing with a Williams girl means. Good luck asshole.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  ~KAYLA~

  Present day…

  Pulling up in front of my childhood home, I shut the car off and took a few moments before I entered the mayhem that is my family. My family is big. My parents love kids, and they proved it by having eleven. I was the infamous middle child, though I don’t share the typical traits that many associate with a middle child. The Williams clan consisted of seven boys and four girls; that meant for me five older brothers, two younger brothers and three younger sisters.

  I was the first girl in the family, but unlike my outgoing siblings, I was shy and preferred not to draw attention to myself. Whenever possible, I preferred to stay in the background, and because of my large family, I found that fairly easy to do. Out of all my siblings, I had the simple job. I was a veterinarian, who owned and ran a shelter and clinic. It was a goal I’d had since I was a little girl to save the battered and abused animals, finding them happy forever homes - a place they could forget what their previous home was like and move toward the happy future before them.

  Dogs were my saving grace with issues of my own in my past that I kept secret from everyone, including my family- especially my family. I could talk to them and know that they did not judge me or run and tell everyone my secrets.

  I started the shelter to repay that help I’d received. I had no room in my life for romance - not just because of my busy schedule, but because I had lost all faith in men years ago. There was no way I would ever let anyone near me again. I couldn’t. I spent my teenage and adult years, ensuring that romance never entered into my life by staying as busy as possible through school, work, and after school activities.

  Several factors over time had caused me to take such drastic measures. No one could possibly know what I had gone through to make sure my family did not know about what happened when I was twelve. That was when it all started. A shiver ran down my spine, as I stared at my childhood home and drifted back to that night when I was twelve years old, and my life changed forever.

  “Kayla, your brothers are watching you while your dad and I attend this banquet dinner. Your sisters are at Aunt Lucy’s for the weekend. Keep an eye on things, please. All the boys are together, you know how messy that can get. Jake and Carson should be calling to let us know when they will be home. Can you please write the message down and leave it on the fridge?” my mom said to me.

  Jane Williams was a beautiful woman. Many say she could pass for a model even now. I could remember hearing several of my brothers’ friends saying those words when they met our mom for the first time.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I said, rolling my eyes. Nothing I hated more than being told how to do the obvious things. I knew how to answer the phone and take a message, as well as where to put it.

  “You’re sure you don’t want to go to Aunt Lucy’s? We could drop you off on our way.”

  “Yes, mom. I would rather stay here. I have a project to work on anyway.”

  I didn’t like going to Aunt Lucy’s. She was a little out there in an odd way, and I much preferred to stay at home when my sisters went over there. They did all the girlie th
ings; I was happier just getting muddy and climbing trees.

  “Okay, love you guys! Behave yourselves, boys, and keep an eye on your sister, please,” Jane yelled as she headed out the door on my father’s arm.

  “Eli, do you have some time to help me with a school project?”

  I loved all my siblings, but I had bonded most with Elijah and Jake. They were overprotective, but I still loved them.

  “Can we work on it tomorrow, Kay? We’re going to have some friends over and play some pool.”

  I forced a smile, trying hard to hide my disappointment at not being able to spend time with my brothers, who were home on break

  “Sure,” I said. “I will stay in my room and out of the way.” He hugged me and I headed to my room.

  My room was simple. I had a daybed up against one wall. Across from the bed was a built-in entertainment center with shelves for all my favorite books and movies. There was a built-in desk at the far end of my room, and a walk in closet that had more than enough room for all my clothes and shoes. I even had my own bathroom. It wasn’t huge, but it was big enough for a bathtub/shower, a sink with vanity, and a toilet. I didn’t have to share it with my brothers or sisters, and that was all I cared about. There was nothing about my room that screamed ‘girlie;’ the walls were beige and the carpet was white. The linens were lilac, as were the curtains. I loved my room; it was peaceful, relaxing, and easy to stay focused on my studies. I sat down at my desk and started working on my homework assignment.

  Music started playing loudly from downstairs. I slowly made my way to the top of the grand staircase. When I got to the banister, I saw a room full of people. My brothers were hamming it up big time for the girls there. I sighed heavily and shook my head at my brothers’ actions. Judging by the amount of people and their laughter and music, I knew it was going to be loud for a while. So I made my way back to my room, turned on the radio, put my headphones on and went back to work on the project.