“Ahhh there you are sweetheart, I thought you’d gotten lost.” The kind voice of the woman I had seen earlier fills the room; she walks over to me and starts fussing me. Tucking my fallen tendrils behind my ears and then brushing the bruise that had appeared on my cheek. My body becomes ridged, tense with fright. I want to kick myself upside the head for reacting in such a way to someone who clearly wasn’t going to hurt me.
When she notices my nervousness, she backs off a little, smiling sweetly at me. “I’ve cooked up some soup and a little pasta with sauce.” My stomach started rumbling at the thought of food. I absentmindedly licked my lips.
The lady places a bowl of delicious looking liquid in front of me. Tiny pieces of vegetables and shredded chicken float around within the goo.
“Hmm this smells delicious. Thank you very much ma’am.” I don’t know her name so ma’am was all I could think of to call her.
“Call me Heidi. And it’s no trouble at all; our head chef Thomas put it together. You enjoy. If you want some pasta just help yourself. There’s also some ice cream in the freezer if you would like some.”
Ice cream? I haven’t had ice cream since living with Lisa. Every time I had period pains or was feeling a little moody, she would come to my room with a tub of Ben ‘n’ Jerry’s and two spoons and would sit and chat with me until I felt a hundred times better, even if that had taken all night. She really was the closest and best thing I had to a mother. Even her over-protectiveness I missed now. At least she cared.
“I’ve just got to go and talk to Leighton; you enjoy your food sweetie. I’ll see you later.” She goes to brush my cheek once more before leaving, but retreats, acknowledging the expression my face was clearly portraying. She turns and leaves the room, me now alone in the kitchen.
I devour the whole bowl of soup, slurping like a hog at a watering hole. I move onto a bowl half filled with pasta. I’ve never eaten so much in my life. I feel like my tiny stomach is about to explode. I couldn’t manage ice cream, no matter how much I want to force myself to eat some, it is just near impossible with the restriction of my shrunken stomach.
I ponder the kitchen, staring at the clock, then the door and then the floor for twenty minutes wondering what is going to happen now, sort of dreading that I would be chucked back out into the street.
“You look much better.” Leighton startles me, coming to sit opposite me at the island in the kitchen, another man following closely behind him, helping himself to pasta. “Are you feeling better?” I nod; I really did feel a fraction more like my old self. A big part of me wants to be a little more like the Abigail Adams I once knew; a real person.
“Good. Now about these bruises and cuts, I need to take a look at you properly in case you have fractured your ribs or something.” He came and stood by my side causing my protective instincts to stir up inside me. I look back and forth between the two of them, their well-built frames kind of scaring the shit out of me.
“Don’t worry about him sweetheart, he’s a big bloody softy,” Leighton informs me, winking.
“Leigh, don’t start, I’ll lay you flat on your arse mate,” the other guy announces, with a prominent twinge of an Italian accent.
“I, I don’t know. I’m fine. I’ll be ok. I’ve been by myself for three years. I’m sure I can manage with a few bruises and cuts. It’s nothing really.” I withdraw into myself, like I always do when frightened and threatened. I really don’t want him, or anyone for that matter, to see my bony frame. I have no fat at all, my ribs are visible through my skin.
“It’s okay. No pressure. I just don’t want you damaging yourself further if something is broken.” I’m not used to someone caring. The only people I have been associated with the last three years have been those who wanted to use and abuse my body.
“Okay. I suppose it’s sensible to let you look. But please don’t stare. I kind of look like a child with nothing on ‘kay?” And that is the truth. The body I had when I lived with Lisa, the toned abs from swimming so much, the ivory cream skin, the larger than average breasts, were all gone. Before the mirror now stood a bony, anorexic sized girl, size B cup breasts not even supported by a bra and veiny blue and white miss-matched skin.
“Why would I laugh? I’m not an arsehole. Come, let’s take a look at those bruises.” He pushes his hand forward asking for me to take it. I look once again at his friend, and then to him. I was nervous at going with him, it was bad enough one looking I didn’t need two.
“Don’t worry, Ant isn’t coming. Just you, me, and Heidi. You’ll be safe I promise. I just want to clean your wounds and make you feel a little better okay?” He tells me and asks me all at the same time, his warm smile calming me the tiniest little bit.
I take a deep breath, nodding at him and placing my small child like hand in his. His large fingers wrap around my dainty little ones, swallowing them whole. He pulls me beside him towards a set of stairs. Walking up them to a house type of door, he pulls a key out and unlocks it.
Inside is a flat. No sorry, it is a luxurious apartment. It is quite normal for restaurants, pubs and even shops to have flats above them, but this, this is like a penthouse suite (not that I know what one looks like). “Wow,” I exclaim as I stare around the large expanse of the place. It must be in correlation to the restaurant in size, with masculine colours of grey, black and slate grey.
“Come, I’ll take you to the bedroom, it will be more comfortable for you there.” He leads me through the beautiful cosy lounge, the material sofa just calling for me to dive on and snuggle.
“Sit on the bed, take your trousers and top off and I’ll take a look. If you lie on your front first and I’ll look at your back,” he tells me as he opens the bedroom door guiding me through. The room is already lit with a warm ambient glow and Heidi is sat on the chair by the bed; a bowl of water and cotton swabs already set up.
“Leighton, leave the room whilst the girl gets undressed would you?” Heidi instructs him, smiling kindly at me.
“Of course, just call when you’re ready,” he replies, leaving the room and closing the door.
“I know it’s hard trusting people sweetheart, but he’s one of the good ones. If I knew how to look at these wounds myself I would, but Leighton has a lot of experience with cleaning and dressing things like this. If you feel uncomfortable at any point just let either of us know and we’ll stop immediately, okay?” I smile and nod my head at her, removing my trousers and top. I feel embarrassed at myself, trying to cover my breasts up to avoid her disapproving gaze. Whether or not she was actually looking doesn’t matter, either way I still feel ugly.
She closes her eyes whilst I get into position on the bed, clearly sensing my insecurities. I breathe out a pleasure laden breath as I mould into the sheets. Heaven must feel just like this. The softness is encasing me like a protective shield, making it near impossible for me to do anything. I am sure I would sooner or later fall asleep.
“You ready honey?” she asks me in that warming voice of hers, almost motherly.
“Yes.” I simply answer, trying to get comfortable, as my abrasions and cuts stick to the sheet.
I hear the door open and close and then a set of feet pad inside.
“Am I okay to clean and disinfect the wounds on your back?” I hear the deep tone of Leighton.
“Yes.” I answer simply again. I can’t say much more, I have nothing more to say.
“Okay, this will be pretty hot, so it may sting the deeper cuts sweetheart.” I jolt from the bed as I feel a scalding hot cotton wool ball touch a cut on my back.
“Sorry.” His voice calms me instantly as my body accustoms itself with the heat of the water cleaning it.
“It’s okay. Thank you for doing this Leighton.” I have managed to say more than one word and it surprises me.
His warm fingertips trail down my spine gently, almost tickling my sensitive and sore flesh, stopping occasionally to put lotions onto my wounds.
&n
bsp; “You have some nasty scars here. You really have had a crappy run haven’t you?” I nod, trying to hold back my tears.
His fingers brush the top of my buttocks. A shiver courses through my body. It felt so good to have the warmth and tender care of someone. Some of the previous angst and fright I'd had about anyone touching me, dissipated instantly. I was relaxing into the sheets and it felt nice.
“Ahhh” I moan out loud, a little embarrassed about my little public display.
“I guess you like that huh?” The answer to that, Mr Hero, would be YES. His fingers begin to knead into my delicate flesh, pushing at the knots my back encased from sleepless nights on the streets on a piece of cardboard.
“Just relax, enjoy it. When was the last time someone touched you for something other than to use you?”
Good question? What is the answer?
“Three years ago. My boyfriend was killed. I wanted to stay with my foster parents, I really did. But everywhere I looked I saw him, even for the short hour I stayed after the police informed us of his murder. I left home the same evening and have been on the streets since. I couldn’t face being there. It wasn’t only me who had lost someone, but Lisa and Carl too.” It is nice to be able to tell someone how I feel.
“That’s a long time sweetie. I’m sorry to hear about your boyfriend. You couldn’t have been more than a child when he died.”
“I was seventeen, nearly eighteen, and he the same age. I’m twenty one now.” Twenty one years of my life, achieving nothing. The four months with David were some of the only months in my entire life I felt cherished, loved, wanted and needed. Lisa and Carl had given me that too; a home, love, warmth and tenderness. I miss them so much and feel guilty for the pain I must have caused when I walked away from them. None of this is their fault and I know, because that’s just how they worked, that they would blame themselves, probably still are, for everything that has happened with David’s murder and probably anything I have suffered on the streets.
“I can't imagine what you’ve gone through.” I hear him sigh as he thinks through my life.
“It’s been pretty shit to be honest. Some days I just think to myself ‘Why bother? Why not just end it now? You’ll be safer that way.’” And that is the truth, too many times I’ve contemplated taking my own life. To flat line the pain and fear buried inside of me.
“Well you won’t have to worry about that anymore darling. You are safe with me. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you ever again. I have far too many spare rooms in my home so you are taking one of them and I will not take no for an answer. Now turn around let me look at your ribs.”
A home? I’ll have a home, a bed, a shower, food and a roof. My heart swells and tears form in my eyes. I roll over covering my flat chest with my hands. He picks a small towel up from the side and places it over my hands so I could remove them.
“Here?” I ask him confused, “It doesn’t look as though you have too many spare rooms Leighton,” I tell him, wondering to myself where the other rooms were.
He bursts out laughing; stopping his care of me to hold his stomach. I feel like a fool, kind of upset at his reaction to my question. Why it is so funny I have no idea, but I am sure he is going to tell me. “Sorry, God I don’t mean to laugh. This is my apartment; I use it only for work purposes, for when I’m too tired to drive home or if any of my staff need a place for the night, they kip here.”
“God, you’re lucky.” Two homes. The bastard has two bloody homes and I have been living atop a cardboard sheet for three years. Some people just have far too much money.
“Eh, it’s just stuff,” he says to me. I relax my body back into the sheets, some of the harsher cuts once again sticking. I hiss and grit my teeth at the stinging pain.
I hear him flinch as he attends to the black and blue marks on my chest and side.
“Fuck that looks bad. I’m gonna have to touch your ribs, I’m sorry if it hurts.” He gently presses the length of each individual rib and I flinch a few times when he hits a tender spot. On the bottom two ribs on my right side I cry out as white hot pain sears through me.
“Oh shit, that fucking hurts badly. What’s wrong with it?” I clench my teeth together trying to bear through the agony.
“I think you’ve got some severe bruising. You’re going to have to rest to let it heal.”
He continues to rub lotion into the bruises encasing my front torso and then to the few scattered on my thighs. Mainly finger marks and some cigarette burns.
He stands up and replaces the lid on the bottle of expensive looking lotion. The scent of jasmine infuses the air surrounding me. I welcome it, the beautiful aroma of flowers warming the chill I had felt for three years.
“You can sleep here tonight darling. I will take you to my home tomorrow and settle you in okay?”
“Thank you for everything you have done Leighton. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.” My natural way of thinking these days was that everything had a price; you never receive anything without paying for it in return.
“You don’t have to do anything other than get yourself back to good health and begin living your life like any twenty one year old should live. Since I don’t know your name I’d like to at least be able to call you by it.”
“Abbi, Abigail Adams,” I say shyly. I really should change my last name; I don’t see why I should have to bear that monster's surname.
“That’s a beautiful name. You sleep well Abigail and I’ll see you tomorrow. Lay in and rest, don’t rush getting up.” He leans down and places a kiss on my forehead before retreating toward the door, Heidi in front of him.
“Leighton, how old are you?” It has been bugging me all night. With his beautiful face and huge frame I would estimate him to be mid to late twenties but his behaviour, actions and caring nature has me thinking older.
“Twenty six. Now sleep.” He switches the light off and starts out the door.
“Can, can you leave the light on please? I don’t like the dark.” Ever since the darkness brought my father into my room I avoid it like the black plague. Even the alleys I would look for to sleep in would have to have street lamps in. It was bad enough sleeping where people could walk past, to have nightmares for people to witness was just pure and utter shame.
“Of course Sweetheart. Now sleep well.” He clicks the door shut after him.
My head falls back into the mountain of soft pillows. I pull the duvet tight around my shoulders and sigh out in relief. God truly heard my prayers. It took me being raped in an alley for it to happen but now I’m rather thankful to the junkie who attacked me.
I smile a beaming smile towards the heavens hoping David can see it. For him to know my luck is changing, I’m going to change, I’m going to make him proud of me.
Closing my eyes I see him, the happy smile on his face the morning he left. The kisses he used to give me. The warmth I felt when he used to hold me next to him in bed, kissing my shoulder and whispering his love for me in my ear.
I fall asleep smiling, and crying, and for the first time in three years I cried for the memories of my lover, my soul mate. Not crying for the images that had infested my nightmares, the dreams of his mangled and bleeding body.
“Goodnight baby. I love you.” I talk towards the ceiling before closing my eyes tight and letting myself drift into a deep sleep.
I awake to a cloudy heaven; soft cotton pillows supporting and swallowing my head. A heavy thick duvet smothers my body, warming and soothing me. It is cloud nine heaven. I strain my eyes to try and focus, forcing them to open, to check if this was real, that I wasn’t on a hard concrete floor in a cold alley.
A knock at the door startles me and I open my eyes.
“Hello.” I call out to the person behind the wood. It creaks open a little, a woman’s head appearing from around the corner.
“Good morning Abbi, breakfast is being served downstairs, if you like you could join us all in the kitchen?�
�� It was Heidi, her beautiful smile peering down at me. A motherly aura was seeping from her.
“Good morning. That sounds wonderful, if you’re sure there will be enough to spare for me,” I tell her. I’m used to no food so I’ll be okay to have any scraps left over.
“There is plenty, now get your bottom up and fill that tummy, it’s far too tiny.” She leaves the room closing the door behind her.
I get up and use the en-suite facilities. The shower calling my name again, but the grumbles and growls that were being produced from within the confinements of my stomach called for another priority. Food.
Wrapping a fluffy bath robe around myself, that I had found hanging on a hook on the door, I make my way to the kitchen I had eaten in yesterday.
I walk through the beautiful apartment, still in awe and total shock of the wealth this man emanated, it was crazy for sure. Then there is me, little old Abbi, who is about to be plunged into the deep end of madness, to live like a rich little bitch. I don’t think I could ever be prepared or ready for it.
I open the front door, closing it behind me as I take the staircase down to the hallway. I can smell the bacon, sausage and fresh bread before I even hit the last step, my stomach sounds deadly as it groans and grumbles for food.
“Good morning Abbi, I assume you slept well?” Leighton asks me as I enter the huge industrial kitchen, holding my bathrobe tight around me to cocoon my body in its softness.
“Yes, thank you Leighton, it was amazing.” I smile sweetly at him, grateful for every single thing he has done for me, all adding to be a significantly huge blessing.
“No thanks needed sweetheart, it’s an honour to have you here.” He beams at me, a beautiful dimple appearing in his cheek. I return the affectionate gesture, smiling faintly at him, trying my hardest to feel comfortable around him.
Deliverance (The LockDown Series Book 1) Page 4
