This is true. Sarge and I have gotten close since I arrived in Furnace last year. My heavily pregnant sister, Ella needed someone to step in and fill her shoes as her boss, Aislinn’s personal assistant, and as luck would have it – albeit, not for me – I desperately needed to get out of Phoenix, so I jumped at the opportunity.
After everything I had been through, my head was a mess, and I was an emotional wreck. I was barely eating or sleeping, and finding the energy to do the one thing I loved most, dance, was next to impossible. There hasn’t been a day since I turned four years old that I haven’t put on my leotard and ballet slippers, aside from the three months that followed my hasty departure from Phoenix, but at the time, I could think of no greater torture.
Needless to say, in my fragile state of mind, it didn’t take much for me to break. Sarge’s friendly face and kind smile, when he saw me nervously looking around the main room of the clubhouse, had me sobbing like a baby in the arms of a complete stranger within seconds of meeting him. The last thing I expected to find that day was someone who could empathize without words, and that offered comfort without needing to know why, but I’m glad I did.
Sarge didn’t ask questions or try to pry information out of me that I wasn’t willing to share. He simply listened to me cry for hours before putting me to bed in the room he kept at the clubhouse, telling me to get some rest and that he would take me out for breakfast so that we could talk. Part of me dreaded the conversation morning would bring. However, Sarge made me feel safe, so I just had to cross my fingers and hope my instincts about him weren’t wrong.
In the hours we spent at the cute little diner on Main Street, I told Sarge everything. The good, the bad, and the recently ugly. By the time he drove me back to Aislinn and Gage’s house, Sarge knew more about me than my own family did, and I felt as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. That’s not to say it wasn’t hard to share the embarrassing details of my former employer and what led me to Furnace, but with Sarge’s help, I got through it.
***** When I was in high school, I babysat for my neighbor’s children, Lilli and Andre. Their mom, Marcy was a nurse and a single mother that worked long irregular hours, and she needed someone who could watch them at short notice. Lucky for her, I lived right next door, love kids, and had plenty of spare time, so I was happy to do it.
Throughout middle and high school my sister, Ella, had plenty of friends, and as one of the star athletes everyone hung on every word our older brother, Zane said. I’m not sure if it was because I was the youngest or because I preferred my solitude to being in large groups, but I had a hard time finding a way to fit in with other kids our age.
Teenagers were a mystery to me. How someone could be perfectly nice to you one minute and then happily stab you in the back the next confused the hell out of me. The fake giggles, even faker tans, and their obsession with hair, clothes, makeup, and boys made high school nothing more than a popularity contest. One that I had no interest in participating in. And that was just the girls; the boys were a whole other story.
Zane did what any big brother would do and warned his friends and teammates to stay away from both of his sisters, and he expected us to do the same in reverse. While I had no issue with avoiding that group of sweaty, smelly, grunting Neanderthals, my sister had other ideas.
Ella had a huge crush on the captain of the basketball team, Steve, who was also my brothers best friend. I knew Steve liked my sister back – he told me as much when he asked me to give her a letter he’d written her – but irrespective of their feelings for each other, they didn’t start dating until their senior year. That could have something to do with Zane threatening to kill Steve if he touched his sister, but hey, that’s just a guess.
While my brother was busy with sports, girls, and working on the weekends at the bowling alley in town and Ella was indiscriminately stalking the object of her teenage crush, I spent a lot of time alone. It didn’t bother me, or, at least, I never told them it did. They deserved to go out and have a good time without their little sister acting like a wet blanket. The truth is, I didn’t want to be a burden to either of them. I knew if I said anything Ella and Zane would feel obligated to try and include me whether I agreed or not, so I kept my mouth shut and found other things to occupy my lonely after school hours and weekends.
On the rare occasions, Ella did force me to go out with her and her catty, airhead Barbie friends, they made it clear I wasn’t a welcome addition. They gave me nasty looks, snickered to each other about my obvious lack of fashion sense, and pointed out every flaw on my much less developed body. They waited until Ella wasn’t around before tearing down my almost non-existent self-esteem, so she never knew how horrible they were to me. Although I loved hanging out with my sister, I made every excuse I could think of to avoid going out with her, to which she would argue it would be fun for a few minutes before eventually giving up.
That’s how I found myself at the park two blocks away from our house watching kids pushing each other on the swings, building fantastical castles in the sandpit, and pretending the slide was a fireman’s pole. Their young lives were so uncomplicated in comparison to mine that I was instantly drawn to their carefree spirits and easy smiles.
Talking to several of their mothers, I offered my services as a babysitter. Regardless of not having any experience with taking care of children, aside from my younger cousins, those mother’s must have seen something in me to make them trust me because the very next day I got my first job. Which brings us full-circle to Andre and Lillianna.
At three and five, Andre and Lilli were a handful, but I loved every second I got to spend with them. Baking cookies, making mud pies, and playing hide and go seek didn’t feel like work. Not even when they were behaving like holy terrors, refusing to do as they were told, I still enjoyed hearing what excuses their little brains came up with for their bad behavior. For nearly four years, Lilli and Andre consumed almost all of my free time, so it’s understandable that when it came time for me to leave for college, I missed them horribly.
The University of Arizona, located in Phoenix wasn’t my first choice, but since I wouldn’t qualify for financial aid if I stayed in California to attend college, Phoenix it was.
Zane was in his last year of college in Alabama, and Ella was two years into her business degree at Georgia Tech. We were separated by hundreds of miles, and I had never felt more alone than I did when I closed my dorm room door for the first time.
With no Lilli and Andre to occupy my days, no Marcy to talk to when she got home from work, and no friends to speak of it was a no-brainer the day I came across an advertisement for a position as a live-in nanny to two boys.
Devlin and Mathias Richards were thirteen and twelve when I came to live with them, which would make them twenty-one and twenty respectively now. In the beginning, I wasn’t sure what was required to take care of two teenagers that had been practically raising themselves for years. However, Devlin and Mathias were great kids, and because they were, my concerns melted away as we settled into an easy routine.
Their parents, Duncan and Patricia, were rarely home, and when they were, they had very little to do with the boys. I found it hard to believe that with kids as amazing and talented as Devlin and Mathias are, that they wouldn’t want to be more involved. I, for one, loved seeing them excel at everything they tried their hands at. The expressions on their faces when they looked up and saw me watching from the stands always put a smile on my face, and made whatever hellish traffic I spent hours stuck in all worthwhile.
Stopping myself from falling in love with those boys was never in the cards for me. They stole my heart within weeks of me getting the job, which meant the only thing left up for debate was who was taking care of who.
Three years and a handful of weeks I lived with them and it broke my heart when I left. I didn’t leave because I wanted to; I ran because I had to.
CHAPTERTEN ~ Mia~
“Sometimes whenpeoplewon’t stop ta
lking,I go and stand in the corner and stare atthe wall.It’sremarkablyeffective in getting themtoshut thehell up.”
–Just a suggestion I was about halfway through the first semester my senior year of college when the unthinkable happened. Before that afternoon, it was inconceivable to me that I would become the very thing my father had warned me about and my brother protected me from for so long. A victim.
What happened to me isn’t nearly as bad as what Beth, Avery, and Kennedy went through. Honestly, when I found out that all three women had been brutally raped, in Avery’s case, repeatedly, it makes me feel weak and pathetic to compare their attacks with what Duncan did to me. But it doesn’t matter how hard I try, my mind keeps circling back to how much worse it could have been and how far Duncan would have taken it if Devlin hadn’t come home.
I could have been Beth or Avery or Kennedy, and that’s what scares me the most. Why? Because I am nothing like them. They are strong, beautiful, fiercely independent women with even stronger men standing behind them to catch them if they fall. Whereas I will always be the girl who blends into the crowd, easy to overlook and just as easily forgotten because there is nothing extraordinary about me. I am not strong, there is nothing fierce about me, and no one will ever describe me as beautiful. I’m not fishing for compliments, merely because it’s the truth.
I didn’t think my perception of myself or the body image issues I had could get worse than it had been all throughout high school, but the day Duncan attacked me proved me wrong. Afterward, I hated looking in the mirror and myself.
Night after night, long after my tears had dried, my mind started actively seeking ways in which what happened could have been avoided. Maybe if my breasts were larger they wouldn’t have fit in his hands, and the memory of him touching me wouldn’t be burned into my brain and my skin. If only I weren’t so small, maybe then, I could have fought him off before Devlin had to witness his father grinding his body against mine while he held me immobile, pinning me down. And maybe, just maybe, if I wasn’t so timid and pitifully weak of mind and body, Duncan might not have targeted me as a plaything he could use and abuse.
There was no way for me to know that Duncan working from home for the day was anything short of uncommon, I certainly hadn’t considered his decision would be dangerous for me. As the owner of his own real estate development company, Duncan could choose to work where and when he pleased. He made his own hours and traveled extensively – sometimes with his wife, Patricia, but more often than not, alone.
I was just clearing away the last of the Xbox games, Devlin and Mathias had forgotten to put away after our impromptu Video Game Night of Doom the evening before when Duncan came into the living room. He wasn’t a small man by any stretch of the imagination, so how he was able to sneak up on me is a mystery.
Duncan Richards looked every one of his fifty-one years, and then some. His thinning brown hair was far more salt than pepper, and his midsection had long surpassed being described as a beer belly. Instead, it resembled a beach ball, protruding inches over the waistband of the pants fighting to restrain it.
Duncan was living proof that money didn’t mean you automatically took care of yourself any better than if you had none at all. He didn’t eat well. The home gym that was in the basement sat unused and gathering dust. Duncan’s clothing while expensive enough to fund a small countries food bill for a year weren’t tailored to fit him, which made him look unkempt and as if he didn’t care about his appearance in the least. But all that aside, it was the leer on his face which had me slowly backing away from him.
He had never looked at me the way he was right then. If anything, Duncan was polite, if not a bit abrupt at times. For the most part, he ignored his son’s and my presence, and rarely engaged his wife in conversation unless it was to remind her of some event or other she was to attend with him.
However, that day, Duncan wore a lecherous smile which made my insides churn as my brain scrambled to remember where I would find anything that could be used as a weapon. I might not have known exactly what he was going to do, but my instincts told me, whatever happened next, it wouldn’t be good.
Duncan took the pen he used to sign all of his important documents from his pocket, and with an exaggerated motion raised it out in front of him before dropping it to the floor.
“Be a dear and pick that up for me, would you?” He was my boss, the man who signed my paychecks, so I could hardly tell him, no, but God did I want to. I wanted to scream at him to pick up his own damn pen, but I didn’t.
Before I could straighten from where I had crouched to retrieve his precious pen, Duncan was on me. Dragging me up off the floor, he shoved me backward until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the couch, and then came down on top of me.
I struggled to breathe, let alone fight him off as Duncan covered my mouth with one hand and lowered his head to look at me. His fetid breath fanned over my face, making me want to be sick. And he smelled like sweat and old socks as his hand snuck beneath the hem of my shirt and covered my breast.
“If you scream, I would hate to be forced to hurt you, but I will,” Duncan warned painfully tightening his grip on my breast.
“Please don’t,” was my garbled response as I bucked uselessly, trying to dislodge him. Duncan didn’t bother to hide the fact he was aroused. His erection was evident as he settled himself between my legs and rubbed himself against me. I was horrified by his response to my body, but no more so than when he began thrusting his hips back and forth and groaning my name.
“You’re going to be a good little girl and lay there while I use your body to get me off, aren’t you precious?” Duncan said, his voice thick with lust.
I shook my head, telling him wordlessly to stop, that I didn’t want this, and to let me go. Besides his hand muting my cries, there was no point shouting at him or yelling for help. With Patricia out to lunch with her friends, the cleaning lady already having left for the day, and both of the boys still at school, there was no one there to hear me. It would be hours before anyone came home. Hours in which Duncan could do anything to me.
“Fuck,” he snarled, slamming his crotch into mine so hard that I knew I would have bruises to show for it. “You feel so good, little girl. I wonder, have you ever let a man between these legs before.”
My tears flowed freely as he continued to circle and thrust his hips. His breath grew choppy and his eyes hazy with the need to come, and I knew then that this was just a precursor to what he intended to do to me.
“I bet you haven’t. You’re a good girl, aren’t you precious? You wouldn’t let some horny college fuckwit defile your perfect little body, would you?” Duncan cooed at the same time he brutally twisted my nipple through my bra.
My breath stalled in my chest when Duncan shifted a hand between us, reaching for the fly of his pants, but before he could undo it, the front door flew open, and Devlin stormed in, yelling,
“Mi-oh-my, you’ll never guess what fucking happened?” At sixteen, Devlin was resistant in my attempts to curb his language, but at that moment, I couldn’t care less if every second word out of his mouth was a curse word. Here he was, my strong, handsome, Devlin who had become my very best friend during the years I lived here, saving me again. The first time may have only been from loneliness, but he saved me all the same.
“What in the fuck are you doing?” Devlin roared as he rounded the corner to see his father’s shuddering body lying on top of me as he climaxed in his pants.
If Duncan was perturbed by his son’s arrival, he didn’t show it. He grunted out his orgasm and made no move to remove his hand from my shirt. It was as if Devlin wasn’t even there.
“You’ve got five seconds to get the fuck off her before I come over there and kill you, old man. I don’t give a shit if you’re my father or not, I will fucking destroy you if you don’t move.” Only to bellow, “Now!” When Duncan didn’t move fast enough for his liking.
Hefting his significant bulk off the couch,
Duncan straightened his clothing and rubbed his palm over his now flaccid penis. Devlin was already close to losing his temper entirely so that movement was enough for him to fly into action.
Devlin dove over the back of the couch and lunged at his father.
“You sick fuck,” he yelled, punching Duncan in the jaw.
Duncan swayed on his feet from the force of the impact, and not able to right himself in time, his momentum took them both to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Incensed and determined, Devlin threw punch after punch; some hitting true, others wildly missing their mark.
I was momentarily stunned by the depth of Devlin’s anger, but realized quickly, that if I didn’t put a stop to this soon, Devlin was going to do something he would eventually end up regretting.
“Stop,” I shouted over the sounds of flesh meeting flesh. But it wasn’t until I whimpered, “Please,” that Devlin shoved his father one last time before coming to stand beside me.
“Are you hurt? Please tell me he didn’t hurt you?” It broke my heart to hear the pleading tone in Devlin’s voice.
“I’m okay,” I lied when, truthfully, I didn’t think I would ever be okay again.
“Do you need to go to the hospital? I can call the cops on the way,” he offered with his piercing blue eyes boring into mine.
“That won’t be necessary,” a high-pitch feminine voice answered. “There’s no need to be so dramatic, Devlin. I do believe, Miss Reynolds is quite all right.”
“Are you serious, mother? You didn’t see what he was doing to…” Patricia cut her son off with a harsh look, before eyeing her husband who at some point had got himself an ice pack and was perched on the arm of the couch.
“I will say this; I didn’t think it would take you this long. The last nanny we had in our employee was much more forthright in her advances, seducing my husband in less than a month. You, on the other hand, Miss Reynolds, have put a great deal of time and effort into setting up a scene which I’m sure you believed would net you a tidy profit.”
Jump: Book 7 in the Vengeance MC series Page 9
