The Other Sister (Sister Series, #1)

by Leanne Davis

  How could she look directly at him across a table of expensive food? How could she look him in the eye after he knew her so well? After he saw everything? For God’s sake, she even peed on him. It wasn’t like he could ever look at her and believe she was fine. Or normal. Or even sane.

  She was supposed to be fine, but seeing him made it all not fine. How could her father expect her to keep up the act if the one person who knew the truth was watching her?

  And Will did watch her. He watched her with utter disdain in his eyes. How did her father find the only truly honorable man in his ranks to come to her rescue? Will didn’t even look at her like she was a girl. He looked like she was, well, nothing. Nothing to him, and nothing to look at.

  Her only problem was: he was everything to her. She thought about him all the time. When she was scared, tired, upset, exhausted, or terrified by her thoughts, she clung to his image, and his voice. Pretending he was there to rescue her was the only thing that helped her sleep through the night. He rescued her in her dreams. He rescued her over and over from the dark, dank room. Sometimes he rescued her from herself.

  “Jessie?”

  Jessie turned at her sister’s voice. Lindsey stood back a few feet from her with a neutral expression. Her sister looked lovely tonight, as always. She was the good daughter, the quiet daughter, the obedient daughter. At eighteen, Lindsey had joined up as an ROTC. She completed her bachelor’s degree, and was now almost done serving her four years. She was the pride of the Bains family. Or at least as proud as the general could be for a daughter. The first thing Jessie and Lindsey ever did wrong for the general was not being born boys, which the general deserved.

  “What do you want, Lindsey?”

  “What did you say to Will to make him leave so soon?”

  Jessie rolled her eyes. “It’s between us.”

  “Why do you have to do that? Be so abrasive? Be so you? And to a man who saved your life. He doesn’t deserve your usual theatrics. Couldn’t you at least act grateful? Or gracious?”

  “Gracious? For what? Will doing his job? Ask him, that’s all I was to him, a job.”

  “Ah, that’s what has you acting so bitchy about him. He’s immune to you, isn’t he? Just literally does his job. Never fell for your sex kitten act.”

  “How do you know him?”

  Lindsey gave her a tight, secretive smile. “I served with him. And if you weren’t so self- centered, you’d have served too, and gotten to known people.”

  “Shut up, Lindsey, I’m not about to put myself through that just to earn Daddy’s love. Did it work for you? Does he love you yet?”

  “Daddy loves me. I don’t have to prove anything to him. Why do you have to push him so much? Misbehave so much? What is he supposed to do? Condone it all? The sex tape. The drugs. The drinking. The DUI. And that doesn’t even include the soldiers you’re so willing to sleep with right in front of him. What did you ever do to make him proud of you?”

  Jessie couldn’t argue, since she did all that stuff. She did it to wreak havoc in her father’s life. Lindsey was right about that too. “Don’t you ever wonder why we have to earn our father’s love? And his approval? What could I have possibly done that was so bad when I was six years old that he stopped approving of me? Or loving me?”

  “Grow up. You don’t get to blame Dad for it anymore. Look in the mirror to see what is wrong with you.”

  “What did you want anyway? I’m sure you didn’t come looking for me for another of your motivational sister talks.”

  “Like you ever listened to a single word I ever said to you.”

  “Like you ever said a word worth listening to.”

  Lindsey glared at her before turning on her heel and stomping off. Jessie’s skin started to twitch again. She looked down, and saw the nails were turning the skin white again where she pressed into her palm. It helped. It helped her keep up the facade. She almost dug into her purse again.

  She should have been able to talk to her own sister, who was good and kind to everyone else. Everyone loved Lindsey, from her father down to every soldier who ever crossed her path. They all loved Lindsey. They watched her like a delicate glass sculpture they didn’t want to shatter. They listened to her, and treated her with kid gloves. They never once would have dared look at the virgin, Lindsey, like they did her lusty, little sister. No one would ever look at Lindsey like they did Jessie. The other sister. The bad sister.

  And the man responsible for first starting all of that was her own father.

  Jessie turned around with a stomp of her foot and started down the hallway until she found an exit she could escape through. Once outside, she fell against the cold, brick exterior. The dark surrounded her and she closed her eyes. Her tears burned hot and stinging on her cheeks, like smoke caught in her throat. But she could not let them fall. Someone might see her. Order one from her father was: no one could ever know, and no one could ever see her. After so many years of screwing up, disgracing him, ruining his reputation, and his life, couldn’t she do this one thing for him? Couldn’t she pretend to be okay? Or just act okay? Couldn’t she finally give him this one thing to make him proud of her?

  After telling her father a watered-down version of what the kidnappers did to her, she agreed to comply with her father and say nothing happened.

  She could still picture him, sitting in his chair, behind his massive desk, the flags proudly displayed behind him. This hero, this man of honor and valor, directly asking her if Will knew what happened to her. She sensed something already. If she told her father she was raped and tortured, she knew he didn’t want to hear that. So she replied that no one knew. Just him. Her father. And what did Daddy do with that information? Knowing what his own daughter had to endure? The commander of the Army just smiled a small, knowing smile, and said, “Good girl then. No one will ever have to know. No good could ever come if anyone knew.” But good would be forthcoming if everyone thought she was fine. After all, the media was already having a field day, so why not turn it into a positive experience?

  She obeyed him, but inside, a black hole opened up and ate what was left of her soul. Now all she had to do was be sure to hide all the evidence.

  Chapter Six

  As the daughter of an Army general, Jessie spent her life discovering new places. Every few years, there was another move, a new post. She had already lived in fourteen different places before she came to Fort Bragg. Of course, she was old enough to be on her own now, no more traveling, no more new places, no more new people. Her only problem was: she didn’t know how to do that. She didn’t know how to fully extract herself from the family she hated. She couldn’t explain why she found it so hard to leave them.

  She followed her father inside the house the Bains family were temporarily in custody of. As usual, the house was military. Another house, another post. More of the same. They rode home from the dinner in silence. Lindsey lived alone in an apartment nearby. So it was just Jessie and the general.

  Jessie bypassed her father as soon as she cleared the front door and disappeared into her room. It looked like a room any girl might have. It was still messy from her previous preparations. The general would have her ass if he saw how she left her room. She was required to keep it as he expected his soldiers to keep their dormitories. Neat. Clean. Precise. Totally faceless. She tried, but it didn’t come easily to her. She never even noticed the few items she misplaced, or the errant clothes she left on the floor, until the general happened to check her “quarters” and from there, the yelling started. And the belittling. Why was she so lazy and stupid? So thoughtless and careless? Why couldn’t she do even the simplest thing like cleaning her room?

  Why couldn’t she? She never had a ready answer. She didn’t know why she couldn’t be like Lindsey and do everything right, much less how not to incite the general’s wrath. But no matter what she did, inevitably, something went wrong, or she forgot something, and the general then “disciplined” her. Only it wasn’t ordinary disciplin
e. It was his special brand of discipline that he saved only for her. She couldn’t please him, or make him stop. She learned long ago that no matter how hard she tried, she could never actually do anything right.

  Jessie fell on her bed. She let the tears she was holding back fall. God, she couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t keep pretending, or maintain a happy face to the world. She wished she had someone, somewhere just to talk to. To confide in. She wished she could call Lindsey. Or her mother.

  But her mother was dead. She died when Jessie was ten. From then on, her life was never right or easy. And she did nothing but fail.

  What did it matter anyway? There was no one to share her life with, no one who cared about her. There would never be anyone who cared that one night she was destroyed.

  ****

  Will glanced down when his phone vibrated with a new text message. Pulling it from his pocket, he was shocked to see the name flashing across the screen. How the hell did Jessie Bains get his number? But she had it, and was using it. Her message cryptic: Meet me 2344 184th Street, Blue Heron, need to talk to u.

  Will glanced up at the clock, and saw it was already midnight. He was with one of his best friends, Tony Lindstrom, and three other guys from the base. They were playing a game of poker. There was no reason he should leave to meet Jessie. No reason at all. In fact, it was the worst thing he could do. What could Jessie possibly want with him?

  He wouldn’t go. The minutes ticked by, and he kept eyeing the clock. Then he turned back to the poker game, and drummed his hand on the table. He made a career out of discipline, so why couldn’t he get Jessie’s face, her sad voice, or her naked body chained to the wall, out of his mind? He stood up suddenly, scraping his chair. His last image of Jessie was still in his mind and his primary motivation.

  Her stupid voice did it. Every time he thought of Jessie, he remembered her tied to the wall, and the vulnerability in her voice, its desperation, when she begged him to not leave her. It echoed back to him now as if she were, once again, begging for his help.

  “Where’re you going?”

  He avoided meeting his friend’s gaze. “Forgot I gotta do something.”

  “Who is she?”

  “Not a she. Definitely not a she. Here, keep my winnings.” He wasn’t about to confess he was meeting a general’s daughter. That was a bad idea.

  He went to the address, and saw the sign for the Blue Heron. It was a bar. She wasn’t even of age. Couldn’t she do anything without making it into something?

  He entered. It was a small place, dark, smoky, with a kind of homey feel common to a neighborhood tavern. He saw her, leaning against a pool table as some beefy biker-type with tats, leather, and chains leaned over her in the guise of showing her how to hold the cue stick. Her ass was firmly planted in the guy’s crotch.

  He should walk out now. Leave her. She sought out whatever trouble she was in. She was no more than a slut. What else could he call her? Every time he saw her, someone new was groping her. She was vulgar, crude, whorish, and undeniably offensive to him.

  Except he remembered pulling her out of a bath of her own blood. He tightened his mouth in disapproval of her, but more with himself. He couldn’t walk away, because there was more to her, than this.

  He walked over to the pool table. She finally took her shot at the ball after making good and sure to get the biker hot. The ball sank into a corner pocket. Any idiot could see she knew exactly what she was doing with the pool cue.

  “Are you done now, Ms. Bains?”

  Her eyes flashed onto him. She straightened up, almost ramming her head in the startled biker’s chin. He was still bent closely over her. She had the grace to look slightly ashamed, and knew what he meant. She ducked out from under the giant biker’s embrace. He glanced across the table, and glared at Will. Will did not intend to get into a fight with the giant oaf if he had an issue about Jessie leaving him. She got him all riled up, and he’d be damned if he would pay for that.

  “She’s my sister,” he said to the oaf, after Jessie eluded his grasp.

  Jessie hurried past the man, then past Will. He followed after her, making sure the biker stayed by the pool table. The biker’s eyes were fastened on them, glaring at Will as if he was planning to tear him apart, limb by limb.

  She sat down and he sat opposite her. They stared at each other across the sticky, stained table. The haze of smoke lingered over them, but the tension was much thicker than the smoke.

  “How did you get my number?”

  “I asked Lindsey. She didn’t approve of my gratitude towards you, so I told her I wanted to give you a better thank you.”

  “Was that what you really wanted?”

  She shook her head, and looked away. He waited, but she said nothing more. A waitress came, and she ordered herself a drink. She wasn’t carded. He ordered a beer, then waited for her explanation. Still, she said nothing, but stared at the table.

  “What am I doing here, Ms. Bains?”

  She glanced at his face. “Why do you call me that? You sound like you’re just meeting me at a church social.”

  “Because it’s your name.”

  “No, my name is Jessie. I’m younger than you, you can’t address someone who is younger than you like she’s your mom’s friend.”

  He let out a long breath to steady his temper. “What do you want?”

  “Nothing. Everything. I don’t know. I just wanted to see you.”

  “Is this one of your ploys? Another game? Gonna rub up against me too? No, thanks I’m not into public facilities, much less juveniles.”

  She straightened her back in visible astonishment. He was surprised to see the look of hurt in her eyes before she dropped her gaze again.

  “I can’t sleep.”

  She fell silent and stared at her hands on the table. She twisted and pulled them before finally folding them together. He caught a glimpse of the strange color her palms were turning. She was pressing hard enough to nearly draw blood. The whisper, the fidgeting, and the terrified expression she had were completely at odds with the girl he saw at the pool table.

  “So you come to a bar instead? How did you get in?”

  She shrugged. “They don’t care here.”

  He cleared his throat. “Look, I’m not sure what you want from me, but I’m not interested, Ms. Bains.”

  “I don’t want anything from you.”

  “Then why am I here?”

  “Why did you come?”

  “Because you’re the general’s daughter.”

  “Lucky me. So you came out of fear of what I’d do to your career, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re honest.”

  “Not usually a negative thing.”

  She smiled at that. “I saw you talking to Lindsey.”

  “So? Your sister is nice.”

  “Yes, she is. I’m not.”

  “I don’t know because I don’t know you. And frankly, I’m not interested in getting to know you. I ask you again, what do you want from me?”

  Tears filled her eyes. She shook her head back and forth. “I don’t know. It’s just… things have been hard. Harder than I thought they’d be. And I can’t sleep.”

  “Maybe you should see a doctor or something.”

  “No. No one can know.”

  “Except me, right? What do you want? Do you want to talk about it with me?”

  “No. I never want to talk about it again. I never want to think about it again. I want—”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I want to feel nothing. Remember nothing. Be nothing. And I can feel that with you. I can sit here and know that you know without having to tell you anything.”

  “It comforts you that I know your secrets? I would expect it to make you feel worse. Makes you remember what you’re trying to forget.”

  She gripped her glass, her fingers turning white, as her eyes flashed with heat. “I’ll never forget.”

  “Then tell someone,
talk to someone, get some help so you can heal inside.”

  “I can’t. I won’t ever get better.”

  She was again pushing fingers into her skin, and picking hard at her cuticles. Looking closer, he saw that all her fingernails and cuticles were shredded. Ugly. The rest of her was made up, her makeup thick, her hair teased, her top tight. But the fingers looked like they’d been through a cheese grater.

  Their drinks came. She downed hers too fast. He took a sip of beer.

  She played with her empty glass. “How long were you there? You know... before you came into my cell?”

  He studied her down turned eyes, keeping his voice neutral as he answered. “Eight hours.”

  He saw her brain computing that, she was trying to remember where she was during the eight hours before she discovered him in her cell. She winced and raised her brown eyes to his. She nodded. “Right. So you have a good idea of things.”

  “I do,” he said quietly. “But I wasn’t there for three days before that, so no, I probably don’t know.”

  She nodded and they held eye contact. She knew exactly what he saw. It was no wonder she was such a mess. What puzzled him was why she flirted with more sexuality instead of shying away from it after what she had to endure.

  “Why do you do things like that? The pool table? You turn these guys on, tease them. What happens when you don’t follow through? You’re too small to stop them if they decide your “no” is meaningless. Why do you do it? Why do you set yourself up for more trouble? Haven’t you had enough?”

  “Who said I say no?”

  He shook his head. “All right, Ms. Bains. You win. I don’t need your shit. I’m sorry, really, for what happened to you. Sorrier still that it’s giving you such a hard time, but I’m not the one to help you. Go to your father, Lindsey, a doctor, someone, or anyone who can help you. But not me. Don’t come to me again.”

  “No one can help me.”

  He started to get up, but she stood quickly, putting her arm out without touching him. He paused, glancing at her. Waiting.