by Abby Gale
We take a seat next to the window and give our orders to a young girl who looks like Marilyn Monroe. When our ice-creams come in cups, Nick clears his throat.
“Be my girlfriend, Nikki,” he blurts out.
With that line, I’m back to years ago when he told me the exact same words. Now, I’m not a kid anymore, but those words still have the same effect on me.
“What?” I breathe out.
“Look, I know we’ve both changed a lot. I know nothing is the same as it was when we were young, but I’m not letting you go without a fight this time. We can get to know each other, we can create new memories together. Think of it like a one-night-stand that turns into something more?”
I laugh at his explanation, but it looks like the best way of approach in our situation.
“I can’t believe you brought me here for this.”
“Why? Didn't you like it?”
I bite my lip to hide my smile. “I don’t know, a little bit old-fashioned.”
He narrows his eyes. “Don’t belittle my fantasies.”
I laugh. It’s a surprise how laughing is easy with him.
“So, are you willing to give us a chance for a future together?”
“A future?”
He nods. “Living together, a family, all that stuff.”
“I have to tell you something,” I start. He must notice the change in my voice, his smile drops, and he becomes more serious. I continue when he nods, “I can’t have children.”
He frowns. “Nikki, I will never push you for anything.”
I shake my head. “It’s not about me being ready or anything. I just can’t. It’s impossible after being shot. I can never be pregnant.”
“Do you want to?” he murmurs.
I frown, not understanding what he means.
“I mean, do you want to be a mother?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want anymore. I just can’t be a mother.”
He reaches to hold my hand on the table. “You can. If you want to be a mother, we can adopt.”
I’ve never thought about this before, and the possibility of something I thought that was stolen from me is overwhelming.
“Isn’t it too early to talk about those things?”
“Yes, yes, you’re right. I just want you to know I’m all in, for the long ride.”
I nod. “Okay.”
He frowns, questions in his eyes.
With a small smile, I explain my answer. “Okay, I’ll be your girlfriend.”
Epilogue
3 months later
I take a moment to look at the mess of a house I once lived in. The garden that was my sanctuary every time I could sneak out has become even more of a lost cause. The place, if you call this shithole a place, doesn’t look like someone can live in here. If this town is a diseased human, this house is the organ it has to be amputated first.
Taking a deep breath, I step into the garden, trying to pass the bushes without cutting myself. I don’t feel like knocking on the door yet, so I just look at the house. The windows are still covered with newspapers. I try to open one, but it’s locked as it used to be. I walk around to the window that was my room and try it. With effort, it opens, but not as easily as I used to do it. Time hardens the windows, too.
As I walk back to the front door, I encourage myself to knock on the door. I hit my fist three times and wait for it to open. Seconds pass slowly, but the door doesn’t open. I didn’t expect it to, to be honest.
Crouching down, I lift the welcome rug and grab the key. Having a welcome rug in front of a house that no one visits is a joke itself. Unlocking the door, I prepare myself for seeing the woman who gave birth to me.
The house smells funny, like an ancient place. It wouldn’t surprise me if a mummy jumps from a corner. It’s dark inside, only a dim light from the Sunlight that comes through the newspaper enlightens the space enough for me to see. Everything is covered with dust. I force myself to remember if it always looked like this, but my memories don’t make the terrible image in front of me any better. In my memories, this place is even worse. Darker, scarier…
I look around the rooms, trying to see where she is, but all the rooms are empty, and I know where she can be. My feet carry me in front of the closet I spent most of my childhood in. Holding my breath, I rip open the door of the closet.
There she is, kneeling and rocking back and forth in the darkness, mumbling some prayer to a god who doesn’t know of her existence let alone hear her. She’s in a trance, she doesn’t even notice I’m standing feet away from her. Finally, she must finish her prayer, she lifts her head. She’s startled when she sees me.
“Who are you?” she says. Her voice is raspy, croaked. It’s almost like sandpaper. I wonder if she drank any water today. A silly concern, I know.
I don’t answer her right away. I wait for her to finish checking me out. Disapproval and judgment pinch her already hollow face.
“Hey mother, I’m your daughter,” I finally say. It’s hard trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. It’s like a tragicomic drama in TV.
“Slut,” she says and repeats the same word again and again.
I can’t keep my laugh anymore inside me. I let out a hysterical laugh without humor. “It’s good to see you, too.”
“Leave my house. Don’t bring your demons to my house!” she yells. “You’re offending my God!”
“Offending him, hmm? You know what, fuck him! Where was he when I was being raped? Where was he when I lost my baby? Where was he when I was crying alone in the dark and cold cell? Your god is a fucking hypocrite asshole, and so are you!”
She cries out some unintelligible words. “Devil’s spawn, slut, whore,” are the only ones I can catch from her hysterical shouting.
“I came here just to see if you’re still the miserable woman who doesn’t even try to protect her own kid. And I see you’re even more miserable than you once were, but I still forgive you, mother. I forgive you not for you, but for my own sanity. I forgive you so I can forget you ever exist,” I say with a deadly calm voice before leaving and slamming the door behind me.
Exhaling the breath I’ve been holding, I lift my chin and walk toward the car. Nick’s been waiting for me the whole time, and he looks as tense as I feel, if not more. We don’t exchange words as we take off on the road. Looking out of the window, I study the neighborhood I once lived, even though I had never had a chance to roam around. My breath hitches in my throat when I see the wrecks where the school once was.
“What happened?” I whisper, more to myself, but Nick answered me.
“When the Sheriff admitted everything, it had gotten kinda big. I think media was involved. The last I heard is the sister set the place on fire, like a cult ritual or something. The good thing is all the students made it out alive, but the sisters didn’t even want to be saved.”
I smile slowly. Even though smiling to something as tragic as this makes me a monster, I’m relieved. I’m happy all those bitches died in the fire. “Nothing could have saved them,” I murmur and lean back in the seat with a sigh.
There’s one more place I need to visit before closing the past in a vault and throwing it into the deepest water of my mind.
***
Turning my back and leaving the building crossed my mind more than I can count in the last ten minutes I’ve been sitting behind the glass. My stomach is quivering with nerves, and my palms get sweatier with every passing second.
I don’t know why I’m feeling scared and nervous. I didn’t do anything wrong. I shouldn’t be the one who should fear or get anxious. If anything, I should be proud of myself for how far I’ve come even though it may not be much for many. I didn’t conquer the world, I didn’t start a kind of girl power movement, but I, myself, have been moved with everything I’ve been through. For some people, I may still be weak, still, someone who is so stuck in the past, but I know I’m emotionally going to the place I want to see myself. Maybe, slowly, but
at least I move surely. Being here right now is a proof of that. It’s not easy to face my monsters, but it’s better to face them than living a life spent fearing them.
I think of Nick who is waiting for me outside. Our relationship may not be conventional, but it gives me happiness I’ve never felt before. We’re still trying to get used to the idea of reuniting, still trying to adapt to the changes we’ve brought into each other’s lives, and it’s not easy, but it’s working well for us so far. It’s working so well that I’m considering a family with him, even though I haven’t told him about it yet. But maybe, just maybe, if I can get through today and leave my past where it belongs – in the past, then I may give myself another chance at being a mother again. This time it will be with a man who gives more than he takes. This time, it will be with the promise of a future instead of repeated torture.
I've pulled away from my reverie and hopeful future with the slosh of the door. Here we go, the biggest challenge of my life.
“Hello, Sheriff,” I say as smug as I can muster.
He frowns. Of course, he can’t remember me. Who am I to him? One of the many probably.
“Do I know you?” he gruffs. He’s an old man now with grey hair and wrinkles, but there’s more in his miserable look. It’s something bigger than aging, only suffering can give you this terrible, haunted look.
“You know me so well, Sheriff. I’m the reason you’re behind these bars. It’s not like spending time between an innocent teenager’s legs, is it?” Venom drips from my voice.
I push the chair back as I stand up.
“Are they treating you well behind bars, Sheriff? I’ve heard they love cops in prison,” I say and turn to leave.
His late and meaningless apologies aren’t more than an irritating noise in the background.
I’m smiling when I step outside to meet Nick. He’s pacing, the worry is obvious in his tense shoulders. I walk fast until I reach him. He wraps me in his arms before I can say a word.
“Are you okay?” he whispers.
Nodding, I cradle his face and kiss him slowly, sweetly. His eyes are shining with happiness and love when our lips part.
“Hey,” he says, grinning.
“Hey, Handsome,” I murmur, licking his bottom lip.
“Let’s get you out of here,” he offers, after glaring at the prison behind me.
“Yes, Sir,” I purr.
He looks at me with a surprised face. “Who are you and what did you do to Mistress Sage?”
I laugh. “She’s gotten bored of being in control,” I say and outstretch my hand for a handshake, “I’m Veronica. Nice to meet you.”
THE END
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Acknowledgement
This book was hard to write, and I know it’s also hard to read. Sage’s story isn’t pretty. I know you cringed at times, maybe you cried, too. I’m sorry for doing this to you, but her story was brewing in my mind since I started to write Violet, my debut. From that moment, I knew it wouldn’t be an easy one. I knew it would be challenging and it was. But, I’m proud of her. And I want to thank you so, so much for reading her story. THANK YOU!
I want to thank my amazing PA, Angela Evans. She was a total fangirl about this book. I appreciate everything you do, Angela.
Jenny Dillon with Rather be Reading and Liv Moore with Liv’s Shoppe both of you have made my words make sense to everyone. Thank you!
To my beta readers Sybil Wilson, Nicole Brown, Tre Talbot, Jo-Anne Joseph, Mette Roennow, Nancy George, Samantha van Vuuren, and Renee McCleary your insight and critique of this book has been invaluable. I can’t thank you enough for loving this story so much.
Also, I want to thank my author friends Nina Auril, Brianna Hale, Marley Valentine, and Isabella Starling for encouraging me as I wrote this book. I’m so blessed to have you all in my life.
With love,
Abby Gale
About Author
Abby Gale is an international author. She is an avid reader, former blogger, and a pharmacist. She writes whatever storyline sucks her in, but mostly her books will be erotica with some darkness in it.
ABBY GALE LINKS
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Other Books by Abby Gale
Violet, Club Nymphs #1
Erotica-Suspense-Romance
Menagé relationship
Angel, Club Nymphs #2
Dark erotica, Trigger warning
Perfect Strangers
Contemporary Romance with a little bit of taboo
One Night Only
Based on a true story novella
One Special Love
Spin-off to One Night Only
(Ashton’s story)
Thirteen
Co-written with Nina Auril
Halloween Novella, Erotic Thriller
Mayhem Under The Mistletoe
Co-written with Nina Auril
Christmas Novella, Romcom
Hazards to the Heart
Co-written with Nina Auril
Valentine’s Day Novella, Romcom
