“Were your foster parents nice?”
I needed to end this conversation before it got going. It was heading down the wrong path. Shaking my head, I picked up a new plank, four nails, and started to hammer it in where I’d pulled the old one out. Discussion finished.
“Man, I didn’t mean to cause you stress. It’s just I saw the news this morning about the guy that mistreated a child. Fucking asshole. That dude needs to be locked away for life.”
Grinding my teeth furiously and slamming the hammer into the nail, I spat out, “Just leave it alone, Nate. Back off, man.”
He took a pause, watching me as if purposefully garnering my reaction and then said, “Sure. No problem. Forget I said anything.” He started to walk away. “Let me know when you want to take the dirt bikes out.”
Turning with two nails in my mouth, all I could do was grunt.
Why the fuck couldn’t I escape that shit for brains who had meant to be my father? Seriously? He was beginning to haunt me. I just wanted his evil face to dissolve from my memory. Would I ever escape it? The only reprieve I’d ever had from my past was when I’d been balls deep in Lil. Was that my cure? Her? Did I need to fuck the evil away?
Missing the nail and ramming the hammer into my thumb, I dropped everything and paced until the throbbing improved, cursing under my breath yet focusing on the tenderness to help move my mind elsewhere.
Nate was searching for something. He hadn’t just come to visit for a friendly chat—I was sure of it. Why though? What was he hoping to achieve by dredging up old wounds?
Hopefully he’d taken the hint that I didn’t want to discuss anything related to my past and he wouldn’t bring it up again.
After another hour of toiling, I decided to head back to the house. It was nearing four p.m., and I’d had enough for the day.
Maybe I’d start a new chapter in my journal like I’d been planning a week ago.
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
Lil
Pulling out the plain brown book, I wasn’t sure what to expect. It was fairly thick and weighty in my hands, as were my emotions at finding it. If I knew what was good for me, I would just put it back where I’d found it and leave it alone. Justice’s personal belongings were none of my business. There may not even be anything inside. Running my fingers over the rough cover, I dithered.
On one hand, it might give me some information on the guy. On the other, it wasn’t right to snoop through someone else’s stuff. There was nothing else in the bag apart from the book. It must be important to him to be lugging it around with him when he didn’t have any other belongings.
Sparring with myself, my curiosity and my need to try and help won out.
Opening the book and turning to the first page, I was surprised to find it filled with writing. The cursive was basic and in my opinion slightly immature as if a child had written it.
Checking the door once more, I began to read.
Nobody gave a shit about me. I was arriving at my third set of foster parents after the last family gave me back because I hadn’t lived up to their expectations. They hadn’t been able to mold me into their ideal little scholar. Couldn’t they understand that some kids weren’t that way inclined no matter how much you tried to turn them into an academic? Instead of calling me names and telling me how stupid I was, why hadn’t they tried to find out what I’d liked doing and nurture that? It didn’t matter now. They’d returned me for a refund just like a shirt that didn’t fit properly.
Arriving at the rundown dump, my heart was in my throat at the sight of my new home. Weeds licked the balcony railing slats and the mail box slanted off to the right, rusted, and filled to the brim with mail that hadn’t been taken inside. A car body, missing its wheels, was festooned in long grass, being swallowed up whole by the unkempt jungle.
The house itself needed a new roof and coat of paint. It screamed out for a new lease on life and I could only imagine what the inside would be like.
My case worker, a middle aged woman with one eye that turned inwards too far, got out and proceeded to lift my bag from the trunk.
Already, I knew that I wasn’t going to like my new home but I followed her up the rickety steps anyway, not having a choice.
When the front door opened, my breath whooshed out fast at the man who stood glaring at me. I prayed hard that he was just visiting and wasn’t going to be looking after me. He didn’t look fit to take care of a dog, let alone a child.
Grabbing the lady with the funny eye like a lifeline, I held on, never wanting to let go.
“What do you want?” the man barked, cutting me with his demented eyes.
“I’m Marlene. We spoke on the phone last week about bringing Justice into your care.”
He pulled his lips back, showing me stained, uneven teeth as he grinned at me. It wasn’t a friendly smile but one that held all the promises of evil. His eyes didn’t look right either. Cold. Heartless.
I felt ill with what I’d read so far, and I had only just begun. This was clearly Justice’s journal, and I was deeply entrenched in his memories, living them through his words. Even without having read the whole thing, I knew that there was worse to come. Much worse. Already, I hated his foster father. I needed to keep reading to see if I could connect the dots with what I’d seen on the television and what I was reading. Scanning down the pages, each sentence was laced with dread, Justice’s deepest, darkest thoughts in print, written but not spoken.
My first week and I’d been smacked across the head umpteen times and cursed at even more. Waking each day was an ordeal. School was my only respite and that was saying something because I hated school. Other kids were mean and didn’t want to be my friend, like they knew that I didn’t have a real family and lived in the system. My clothes were creased and not always washed, leaving me vulnerable to the “stinky” or “smelly” moniker.
Tears trickled, slowly at first then strengthened to a river. I wasn’t sure I could go on. I didn’t really want to, but I had to know. I had to search for confirmation.
Flitting over a few more pages, I hoped the words I needed would jump out at me. Three more pages on, my heart stopped. I gagged.
Dragged out of bed, only having been asleep for what felt like half an hour, my arm was nearly pulled from its socket. Dazed, I wasn’t sure what was happening.
“Get up you little shit. You obviously need to be taught a lesson in discipline. I asked you to take out the garbage before you went to bed and it’s still sitting in the kitchen. What have I told you about disobeying me?” It was a vicious snarl.
My feet were stumbling because I could barely keep up. I didn’t know how to answer. After finishing off homework, cleaning the dishes, and doing a load of laundry because the asshole was too lazy, I’d forgotten.
“You’re going to learn some fucking manners, boy. I put a roof over your head and this is how you repay me?”
Not sure where I was being taken, it quickly became apparent that it was a basement of some sort. Down the stairs we went into a room I didn’t know existed. A light was switched on but it barely glowed, only allowing shapes and shadows to dance across the walls.
Stopping in the center, I didn’t have time to avoid what came next. Three sharp slaps across the face, causing my head to turn with the force.
“That’s for not answering me when I asked you a question.”
God that hurt. The whole side of my face stung and if I hadn’t been awake before, I sure was now.
Dragging me further into the dungeon we stopped against the far wall. Keeping his firm grip on my arm, the monster bent down to pick something up. The sounds of metal clanging had me nearly pissing my pants. What the hell was he going to do to me? I wanted to get away. To run, but he still had a hold of me. If I attempted anything, there would be further punishment.
“Sit!”
I did, pulling my knees up to my chest. The temperature in the basement was so much colder than upstairs. My feet were bare b
ut at least I had my pajamas on.
A metal ring like a handcuff was placed over the hand he was holding before it was resized to fit my small arm. A click told me the lock had been activated and I was essentially tethered to something. To what, I wasn’t sure. The wall? A chain led off from the handcuff into the darkness. I was a prisoner in my own home.
After he left, I crapped my pants, the warm sludge the only heat in the cold hole. The rugged concrete bit into my skin as I curled into a ball.
The hours must have turned into days because I was sure I was going to die down there. I lapped at the water of my dog bowl like a damn animal. When I did finally hear the door creak open and footsteps clamber down the steps, the scant light switched on, I was surrounded by my own urine and shit. It was all over me, some dried and some quite fresh. When my captor came into view, I couldn’t contain my sobs. He stood in front of me with his trousers undone and his curved dick hanging out…
The sound of a truck broke through my haze, causing me to slam the book shut and stuff it back into the bag before throwing it back under the bed where it belonged. I’d read all I needed to. My stomach roiled, so I raced into the bathroom, dry retching over the toilet.
It was true. Justice had been a prisoner of the madman that had been on the news earlier. That’s why he’d been so upset, and who could blame him? He’d been treated in the worst possible way. Like the animals we had rescued that had suffered a similar fate. Tied up in a small enclosure to go mad. How could anyone treat a human like that? It was deplorable.
What did I do with this information? Should I tell Nate? Did we need to confront Justice and get him to step forward and report the atrocity?
Standing up in front of the mirror, I splashed some cold water on my face. The back door opened and then shut hard enough for me to hear. No. No. No. I couldn’t face him. Maybe if I kept quiet he’d just head straight to his room and shut the door so I could escape and go find Nate.
“Princess?”
Crap. No such luck. Locking the bathroom door, I called out, “I’m in the bathroom. Be out soon.”
Boots sounded on the hardwood floors. Getting closer and then stopping outside the door. My breathing shallowed to small puffs, and I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the edges of the vanity. What was he doing? Waiting for me?
Moving to the shower, I turned on both faucets. “I’m taking a shower.” I wasn’t really going to take one, but I had to make it sound like I was.
Go away. Don’t stand there. Please?
“I’ll just wait in my room. Come in when you’re finished?”
Now he wants to be social? Of all times to want to spend time with me. It was definitely after the amazing sex we’d had, but damn it! Not now. I was too wound up. He’d see it clearly. He’d know something was up because, in all honesty, I didn’t think I’d be able to look at him without tearing up.
“Okay,” I replied, planning on staying in the bathroom as long as I could to try and subdue my emotions.
My view on Justice had changed the instant I’d read snippets of that diary. How could anyone go through that and come out the other side unscathed? They couldn’t. Even the strongest of adults would be scarred in some way, but a child? God. I wanted more than anything to help now.
Moving to the closed door and sliding down it, I brought my knees up and hugged them, determined to help turn Justice’s life around. It was my new mission. With Nate’s help, perhaps we could brainstorm an idea and put it into action. We at least had to try and get him to testify against his captor. That would be no easy feat because he didn’t know that I had been snooping.
“Fucking cocksucker! Princess?”
Yikes. What was his problem now? He sounded extremely pissed! He couldn’t know about me snooping, because I had put everything back as I’d found it.
I held my breath, waiting.
Heavy footsteps again. Not boots but angry, stomping feet then banging on the door, alarming me with its fierceness. My back bounced with each dense thud as the door jarred back and forth, attempting to withstand the beating.
“Get the fuck out of the shower now! I’m not kidding! If you’re not in my room in two minutes, I will break down the goddam door!”
There was a pause as he waited for a reply. Did I keep ignoring him? I didn’t doubt he would remain good on his threat. Crap! I was in trouble for something.
Standing and hobbling to the shower so that my voice didn’t sound from just inside the door, I called out, “Okay.”
Damn. Damn. The shit was about to hit the fan with me swinging from it. Did he know I’d read his journal? How could he? Something in his room had changed his attitude instantly. I was fucked. What else could it be? Had I left the bag exactly where I’d found it? What if I hadn’t? Could I lie and say I hadn’t looked in it but merely moved it? But why would I need to move it? There was nothing else under the bed. Ugh. I wish I hadn’t succumbed to temptation.
Switching the water off, I took another couple of minutes trying to come up with a plausible reason as to why I was checking under his bed or why I had even been in his room for that matter.
I could say I had lost something and was looking for it and I hadn’t looked in his bag but shifted it to see if what I had lost was behind his bag.
It sounded lame, but I had nothing else.
Stepping out into the hallway, I meekly trotted to his open door and stepped in. His bag was on top of his bed. Dead. That’s what I was. So fucking dead.
Swinging around, fury lit his eyes. Not wasting any time, he picked up his bag and stormed over to me, shoving it in front of me.
“This! Why did you go through my stuff?”
“I didn’t!” I countered. “I moved it because I was looking for something I lost.” I could have been standing in front of the sun he was so hot. Physically burning with rage. I was actually frightened and more than a little guilty.
“Don’t lie to me!” he bellowed. “You fucking opened it. The zip was shut when I left this morning, and now it’s open.”
Cursing my stupidity quietly, I backed away into the hallway again, but he smothered me until I hit the wall. He literally had me cornered like an animal.
“I…” I was lost for words. I was normally quick to find a comeback, but when it came to lying, I was no good. It was a skill I’d never been able to master.
With his free hand, he seized my shoulder and shook it, hard. “Why? Why did you open it? What did you find? Tell me!”
“Nothing!” I was digging myself in deeper. I needed to just come clean and suffer the consequences, but that was easier said than done when you had a six-foot explosive device holding you in place, about to go off. His fingers dug deep, causing a throbbing ache. His nose was all but touching mine, but it was far from appealing. Unlike our intimate encounter, this was intimidating.
“Liar! What were you looking for, huh?” Letting go of my shoulder, he reached into the bag and pulled out the diary, shaking it at me. “This? Is this what you were looking for?”
Emotion was coming thick and fast, tears building as I fought for control. “I…no! I didn’t know about that, honest! I just wanted to see if there was anything with an address on it that I could use to learn a little more about you.”
“Did you ever think of asking me?” He was practically spitting in my face, but then, he had every right to. I’d snooped into his private world and gotten caught. I deserved whatever he gave me.
I said softly, “You’re closed off. You wouldn’t have told me.”
Banging hard on the wall behind me, he pounded four, five, six times. He looked so hurt and lost amongst the tempest that had possessed him.
“Justice. It’s okay. I didn’t read it.” Another lie.
“Bullshit! You’re a nosy female. Of course you read it!” He inched back, both hands squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing.
I didn’t move. I wasn’t game.
Reprimanding me with his eyes, he yelled, “I was beginn
ing to trust you! I’ve never trusted anyone, and this is why! You fucking betrayed me! I thought you were different.”
The tears were past the point of no return and fell in gushes. “I’m sorry. I wanted to help you. After finding you in the elephant enclosure so broken, I needed to do something. If that is betraying you, then, yes, I did, but it was for the greater good. Please! You can trust me, but just let me in. I want to be there for you.”
He was pacing now, backwards and forwards in front of me. “Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!”
There was no reasoning with him in the state he was in. He couldn’t see through his anger. I was guessing there was a lot of embarrassment there too.
Pointing a finger at me, he yelled, “Stay the hell out of my room! Keep your nose out of my business. You can’t help me. No one can.”
Storming into his room and slamming the door, I shuddered, glad to be free of his volatile energy. Heading into the kitchen, I put a pot of coffee on and waited for Nate to return. I really needed to talk to him.
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
Justice
Words couldn’t describe how cut to the bone I felt. My demons were laid bare on the pages of my diary, and Little Miss Nosy had felt the urge to go through my stuff, and then she’d lied about it. If she was male, I would have pounded her to a pulp.
How the fuck was I meant to face her now? Had she told anyone else? How much had she read? Why couldn’t she have just kept her nose out of my shit? The door and four walls that had been allocated to me upon my arrival were mine. My space for eight weeks. Just because she lived in the house didn’t mean she had the right to access my personal belongings. My diary was all I had. My therapy and now I didn’t even have that.
I couldn’t breathe. I was suffocating. Glancing at my arm, the urge to cut was huge. It was all her fault. She had flicked the pain switch that I needed in order to cope, and now it was beckoning to me.
Pain Page 19
