“I found another apartment,” Rita and SJ’s neighbor Claire, suddenly says.
“Oh wow, really? Where?” SJ asks.
“East of the river,” she replies. Even I know that isn’t an area you want to raise your kids in.
“Where?” SJ asks again.
“Kenilworth,” she answers.
“Claire, you can’t go into that territory. Jake’s bar is in Kenilworth,” SJ tells her. Now how would SJ know about Jake’s?
“Due to my circumstances, I’ve been offered an apartment there. I can’t turn it down. I need a roof over mine and my children’s heads.”
“What are your circumstances?” I ask. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
I watch as the petite woman seems to try and disappear into the couch. “My husband, I mean ex husband, he umm...” she trails off.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry I asked,” I say quickly. SJ told me some of her story but there is clearly more to it.
“No, it’s fine,” she says, taking a deep breath and continuing. “He used to beat me. At the time I really thought I’d done something wrong. He would tell me it was my fault and I’d believe him. I see it all clearly now though, he was conditioning me right from the start. I do something he approved of and he’d treat me great, I do something he didn’t like and he’d ignore me or just give me one word answers. When I’d ask what was wrong, he’d say he had a bad day at work or he was tired. I loved him—I wanted him to be happy. It didn’t take long before I was automatically doing the things that pleased him.” She shrugs and exhales a trembling breath.
“It’s okay, Claire,” Rita says as she gives her shoulder a comforting squeeze.
“I didn’t even realize I was doing it. I suppose when you love someone, you do whatever you can to make them happy,” Claire continues. “Gradually the one word answers turned into him getting in my face. A year after we met, he proposed and I accepted. I put his moods down to work because I knew he’d been working really hard to get a promotion. When he hit me the first time, he’d had a particularly bad day. He didn’t get the promotion and he went to a bar to drown his sorrows. He came home drunk and hit me because his dinner was cold.” Her voice is trembling and I see the first tear roll down her cheek. “He rubbed my face in the plate of food while he raped me over the kitchen table.”
“I’m so sorry, Claire,” I say, trying to hold my anger at bay. I want to find her piece of shit husband and kick his teeth in.
“It’s okay,” she says and then carries on. “He took the following day off work, made me breakfast in bed, ran me a hot bath and washed me so gently. I couldn’t believe those same gentle hands had been so cruel and unforgiving the night before. He apologized and explained what he was upset about. He explained he’d gotten drunk and came home and took it out on me when he shouldn’t have. He even said it was his fault his dinner was cold and that he was disgusted in himself for what he did. I was wary at first, but when he tried to initiate intimacy between us, I tensed and he backed off, saying he understood and that I could take as long as I need to feel safe in his arms again. He was true to his word and then I found out I was pregnant. We had a quick wedding and everything was going great, we were happy. I even gave up going to school because he kept saying how we had his money and I needed to be the mother and housewife. it wasn’t worth the hassle and the nagging stopped once I gave them up.
“When our daughter was six weeks old and I was given the go ahead to have sex again, he wasn’t so patient anymore. He decided he’d had enough of waiting and started becoming hostile again. In the end I started having sex with him again. I didn’t enjoy it, but he seemed happier. He eventually noticed I wasn’t enjoying it and would say it was because I was cheating on him or some other ridiculous notion. I started to become scared of him again and my fear seemed to spur him on. I tried to leave him, but he caught me. It was just my luck he would come home early. I had just got our daughter in the car and was putting the suitcase into the trunk when he pulled up. I froze. I saw the fire ignite in his eyes, but he was eerily calm on the outside as he approached me—I knew it was just for show.
“He put his hand on the back of my neck, a threat to me, a loving gesture to anyone who saw us. He whispered in my ear to get in the house and not to make a scene or he’d kill our little girl. She was the only good in my life—I’d do anything to keep her safe. Once we were in the house, he punched me hard in the face. It was the most pain I’d ever endured from him and I knew then, that was going to be my life.
“We had another child, but this time he was horrible to me through the whole pregnancy. By the time I was pregnant with our third child, he beat me so badly a neighbor heard. The police turned up and he was caught literally red handed. That was almost eighteen months ago. He skipped bail and has caught up with me at every job I’ve had. Thanks to the old landlord he never found out where I lived and I’ve been here ever since,” Claire finishes and I can’t help but stare at her.
“You are one of the bravest women I’ve ever met,” I say in awe of her.
“Not as brave as some,” she replies, her eyes downcast.
“You’re braver than you give yourself credit for,” I tell her.
“Thank you, Caleb,” she says.
“We’ll find you somewhere Claire, but please don’t go to Kenilworth,” SJ says.
“How do you know Jake’s bar?” I ask SJ.
“It’s a long story,” she answers.
Rita clears her throat. “Maybe one you should share.”
“Maybe, it’s not the right time. I’ll share when I’m ready to,” SJ snaps. “Maybe it’s your turn to share?”
“Don’t worry, I was just curious,” I say, hoping to calm the rising tension.
“No, I’ll share,” Rita says, downing her glass of wine and then refilling. “I had an arranged marriage. I liked my husband and eventually fell in love with him. He was the most amazing man I’d ever met. He treated me like a queen. We didn’t have a typical Hindu marriage—I was his equal in every way. He was fine with me working and we worked well together. We had Gur and Raj and life was everything I could have ever dreamed it would be,” she says with a wistful look. “And then he died. He went to get milk and never came home. A drunk driver ploughed right into him, killed him instantly and then drove off. My world collapsed.”
“Is that how you ended up here?” I ask.
“God no, I wish it was that simple,” she answers, downing her new glass of wine and then looking for the last bottle to open. “My husband’s parents took us in. They were such nice people and the children loved them. Little did I know, they were not the people I thought they were.
“To cut a long story short, I quickly realized that in exchange for boarding and food, they wanted something in return and that nothing is for free. No one wants to help you unless they benefit from it too. There is no such thing as a selfless act. At first it was just cleaning and laundry, easy stuff I would have gladly done for taking me and the children in and taking care of us.
“Gradually more chores were added to the list. I kept up at first and then I got sick. They didn’t care that I was sick and started beating me with the handle of the broom I used to sweep the floor. The dynamics changed that day. I was separated from the children and not allowed to see them. I was stripped of all my belongings and they locked me in the basement. When the children went to school, they would drag me up the stairs and restrain my ankles in cuffs so I couldn’t move very fast. Sometimes when the children were asleep, they would come down to the basement with some friends and show off their slave.
“As time went by, they became more cruel and sadistic. I tried to make my escape, I was going to get help and then get my children since I knew they were safe. I didn’t make it,” she says and then her tears begin to flow. It’s difficult watching such a strong woman crumble.
“I was caught by the mistress of the house and everything went downhill from there. I was given two meals a day, just enough
so I had the energy to work, but not enough to fight. My wrists were cuffed behind my back and then locked to a chain on the wall. I ate like an animal. Dudhapak with no sugar and always cold was all I was allowed to eat, it’s like a sort of rice porridge. One summer day it was extremely warm. As I was cleaning I helped myself to a glass of water. That was probably my biggest mistake. They said if I wanted water they would give it to me. They strapped me to a chair, placed a towel over my face.” She chokes on her sobs. I want to comfort this woman, but I really don’t think she’ll appreciate it. “They threw buckets and buckets of water at me. I thought I was drowning. I honestly thought I was going to die.
“I broke that day. I was a shadow of my former self, a ghost. I wish I had been a ghost to them, I lost my fight and let them do what they want. My father-in-law would rape me. When he brought me food, I always had to thank him, usually by forcing himself down my throat. He would practically choke me and I prayed every day, I prayed that would be the day they killed me.”
“How did you get away?” I ask quietly.
“Turns out I still had a little fight in me after all,” she says with a small smile. “The master of the house had a heart attack and the mistress called a paramedic. She must have thought she was safe and that I wouldn’t do anything because she didn’t even come down to the basement to threaten me to be quiet, or she was just too worried about her husband and forgot about me. I heard the sirens. I remember thinking they couldn’t be real, no one was coming to save me and of course they weren’t, but I used it to my advantage. I screamed so loud. It was a primal, guttural scream that I didn’t think I was capable of.
“The mistress begged them to ignore me and to tend to her husband. Then the basement door opened and I swear I’ve never been so scared in my life. The paramedics called for the police and more paramedics. The mistress told them I was the master’s sister and that I was clinically insane. I thought this would be the part where they left me, but they didn’t. They had the mistress unchain me and after inspecting the area I was kept in they didn’t let her leave the basement until the police arrived. I was whisked away in the ambulance meant for the master, pleading with the paramedics to get my children.
“After being checked over physically, I had a psychiatric nurse visit. My children were brought to me by child family services and I cried so hard. We hadn’t seen each other for seven months. My children thought I was dead. That was when I met SJ and I was told about the apartment I was being offered, if I wanted it. The hospital discharged me physically but the psychiatric team wanted me and the children to have counseling, which was completely understandable. I’ve been here a year and a half now,” she finishes.
I don’t need to say anything, Rita isn’t the emotional type usually. I see her building her walls back up and I’ll be damned if I’m the one who tears them down. She looks at me and I know she sees the new found respect I have for her. After giving me a slight nod, she goes back to collecting herself mentally.
“Does everyone here have a similar story?” I ask.
“No,” SJ says quickly.
“I think it’s time we went home,” Rita says to Claire who agrees and after a quick goodbye, they leave.
SJ busies herself cleaning. I can tell she is avoiding looking at me.
“So what’s your story, SJ?” I ask, causing her to jump.
“I can’t tell you. I told you that before. I can’t risk the twins and I don’t want to lie to you,” she says.
“I can help you SJ, you only have to let me in,” I say, my eyes pleading with her because all I want to do is help her.
“I really wish that were true but I’ve already lied to you by omission. There are things I haven’t told you and things I’ve allowed you to believe. I’ve become so good at living this way that even I don’t know what is true or not anymore.” She stands silent for a second before she falls to the floor, bringing her knees to her chest, putting her head in her hands and sobs.
Her cries are filled with such pain and sadness. I sweep down and pull her into my arms. I take her back to the couch and sit her on my lap, stroking her hair and back as she lets it all out. Her sobs become sniffles as I continue comforting her, wondering what she is so scared of that she’s been living a lie her entire adult life.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers into my chest.
I pull her chin up so her eyes meet mine. “Don’t ever be sorry, I want to be there for you, SJ. You and the twins have become more important to me than anyone I’ve allowed into my life. I don’t know how it happened, but you made my heart beat again,” I say and then mentally grimace at my statement. Cool Caleb, real cool.
She doesn’t reply to me, she grabs my chin and pulls my head down to hers. Our lips brush briefly and it’s too much for me to handle. I turn us so she is now lying under me and take her mouth more forcefully.
“Caleb,” she whispers when our mouths part.
“I’m sorry,” I say, pushing myself off of her.
She grabs ahold of my shirt and pulls me back down. “Don’t you dare. This time you’ll finish what you start.” She laughs and I can’t help wondering if it’s the alcohol that’s made her this bold.
“Be careful what you ask for, SJ. It’s been a long time, I’m not sure how much control I’ll have,” I whisper as my hands find the hem of her shirt and my fingers dance their way up her ribs.
“Afraid you’ll come like a thirteen year old?” she asks deadpan.
“No,” I growl and her laugh makes me smile. “If I start, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”
“It’s a good thing I don’t want you to stop then.” She smiles seductively, but there’s something she’s not saying.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I-I haven’t, you know,” she stutters and mumbles.
“It’s okay, I’ll go slowly,” I say and watch her physically relax. She hasn’t had sex since the twins were born is what I assume she is saying and I knew I hit the nail on the head when she relaxes beneath me. I haven’t fucked anyone since Molly, so I’m not going to be any better. I don’t think I can take much more petting—I need to feel her, be inside her now. My hand trails down under the waistband of her night shorts to find she’s not wearing any panties. All night I’ve sat next to her and she’s been going commando? My cock jerks at this realization. I reach her core and find her wet and wanting. She’s so hot for me and I lose it. I rip her shorts off and place myself between her legs. I can feel the heat her sex is radiating through my jeans and I’m quick to remove the barrier between us.
She grips hold of the hair at the base of my skull and pulls my head toward her. She smashes her lips against mine, which breaks the concentration I need to remove my layer of clothing. In the end, she assists me with my t-shirt and I mange to pull her top off too. She is lying completely naked beneath me and I take a moment to appreciate her stunning body. Her stomach is flat and the skin is smooth, not a stretch mark in sight. Many of the women I see at charity events and business functions complain about how their body had been ruined by pregnancy. They would kill to have this body after one child, let alone two.
I must have been staring for a while because SJ clears her throat nervously. “Sorry,” I say when I look up at her and see her cheeks glowing pink and her teeth nibbling her bottom lip. “I was appreciating the view.”
Her smile goes wide and I lean in, using my teeth to pull her bottom lip free. My hand trails down her front, over the curve of her breast and onto the dip of her waist. My fingers dance along her hip bone and over her stomach toward her belly button, circling it a few times before dipping lower toward her heat. She arches her back, bringing her hips up to meet my hand. She groans and then stills. I look back up at her and see her eyes closed, obviously embarrassed.
“Open your eyes, SJ,” I command. She snaps her eyes to mine and then lowers them just as quickly. “Look at me, I want to see your passion-filled eyes and hear your pleasure-filled moans. Don’t hide you
rself from me. I want to know every part of you.”
She keeps her eyes on me as she draws a line from my neck to the waistband of my jeans with her finger, moving under the material and into my boxers. I suck in a shuddering breath, waiting for the soft skin of her fingers to touch the sensitive skin of my cock. Before I have a chance to even imagine what it will feel like, she whips her hand out of my pants.
“Take them off,” she whispers and I groan, frustrated. I practically rip my pants and boxers off, before covering her with my body again. I’m unprepared for the spark as our skin comes into contact with each other.
“I can’t hold on much longer,” I gasp as her tongue circles my nipple and I kiss and suck the skin below her ear.
“I’m ready,” she pants and I line myself up. I thrust hard and am taken aback by how tight she is, even though she’s soaking. I thrust again and see her wince.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, it’s just a little painful,” she replies.
“You’re tighter than I expected,” I respond. I thrust again and I’m buried inside her up to hilt, but it’s not her gasp that halts me, it’s the sudden relaxing of her inner walls. I pull back slightly and push in again. Was she just tense? There’s no way she was a virgin—she has twins!
I can’t stop, I’m getting too close. I pull back and thrust in several times as I rub the pad of my thumb in circles over her clit. I feel her sex tighten around my dick and suck me deeper into her as she orgasms, taking me over the edge with her.
I catch my breath and pull out, seeing exactly what I was expecting and hoping it wouldn’t be true. SJ was a virgin and I just ripped her open.
***
She lies silently on the couch as I gather a wet towel and a dry one to clean her up with. She winces when I wipe the wet cloth over her sore and swollen lips, and then dab them dry. I’m surprised by the amount of blood. I mean it’s not like flowing out, but my cock is covered in it. I know that I’ve torn her inside, I went to quick and didn’t prepare her properly. Had I known, I wouldn’t have even gone there tonight. I would have made it special.
Caleb (The Unseen Series Book 1) Page 14
