Innocent Eyes (A Cane Novel Book 1)

by Charlotte E Hart

  He straddles my hips, his weight forcing me to still. “That’s better.” He pins my arms out to the side and brings his face close to mine. “I’ve enjoyed our little game, but understand this. I’ll take what I want from you, and it won’t be anything like dear ol’ brother. He gave you up. That means you’re fair game now and I intend to have some fun.”

  “Please, Josh. Don’t do this. I don’t want this.”

  “Shhh, but I think you do. I think this is what you want.” He traps my wrists in one hand and sets about tearing at the button to my trousers.

  I thrash my hips and my arms, trying to shove Josh’s weight from me, but it doesn’t work. He shoves his hand inside my knickers and gropes at me. He’s rough and harsh and he tears at my delicate flesh, forcing his way inside of me.

  Tears track down my face as I cry. “Stop it, please… Don’t. Don’t do this,” I scream. Bile rolls in my stomach as he continues to dig his fingers inside.

  No, no, this can’t be happening.

  I feel weak and feeble. When Quinn and I fought, I found the strength I needed and that’s what I need now.

  He loosens his grip on my wrists and plants his palm on my shoulder as he leans into me. His other hand goes for his buckle, the sound of his belt loosening showing he intends to carry out every last word he’s said.

  Pressure builds in my shoulder as he leans into it. The pain flares as his strength overwhelms me, my breath catching in my throat as I try to process what’s happening.

  “You’re my fucking bitch now.” His sneer lights up his face as pain burns through my body. “I’m going to shove my cock in each of your holes and you’re going to take it.”

  “No… no… Josh, please,” I sob, before giving one last surge of strength to dislodge him and escape. He removes his fingers, but only so he can smack me around the face. The heat fires across my cheek and throbs, dulling the ache from the rest of my body.

  At least his hands have left me now, but then I see why. He flicks out a blade that gleams even in the dim light. My heart races and the fear that floods me threatens to take over. I look at Josh and try to see something of his brother in him. I’d do anything to be back with Quinn right now. I shouldn’t have asked to come home. I should have stayed and forced more from Quinn.

  “Stop it, Josh. No. No! You’re hurting me… Josh!” My panic infects my muscles and I thrash under him.

  “Now, keep still, or I might cut you.” He grins, the white of his teeth shining in the darkness and making him look as mad as he’s acting. He runs a knife against my blouse, cutting the buttons free. He then digs the tip of the blade into my cami top and pulls down. The tearing noise fades into the background as I feel the hard edge pinch against my skin. It bites, and heat follows the line of the blade.

  “Well, fuck. I made a little scratch.”

  I turn away from him and squeeze my eyes shut. My body is in agony, screaming for relief.

  “No, I want you to watch, bitch.” He pushes the blade into my cheek, forcing my eyes to open up. The blade feels wet, and I can smell the tang of metal. He pulls the knife against my skin and again, it bites before heat replaces the cold metal. I try not to cry, but the searing pain across my cheek is too much. My mind flashes images of what must be a ghastly cut on my face and I pray I’m overreacting. Somewhere inside of me I know Quinn would never have done this to me. I might not have realised that right away, but on that day by the river, we both trusted each other.

  I hold onto that memory. The first time there was anything concrete between us, something real for him. Being with him has given me an inner strength I need to use now. I take a few deep breaths and try to remain conscious, but my mind swims in and out of clarity.

  “Quinn always shared the whores he fucked. It was a Cane perk. He’d arrange for us all to fuck them. Pass the skirt around. We’d all get high and drunk and fuck all night. I knew it was different with you the minute he hit me. After everything I’ve done to prove myself, that’s how he repays me. Well, I’ll show him.”

  “H-he won’t like this, Josh. He’ll be mad at you.” I stammer the words together, hoping to give him pause.

  “He doesn’t give a crap about me. Never has. All I’ve ever wanted is to work beside him and Nate as their brother, help run the business that is my name. But oh no. Quinn won’t let me near his precious empire.” Josh leans in closer, studying the incision on my face. “He pushed me away, Em. Tossed me aside again and again, when all I wanted was for him to be proud of me. That’s all I wanted. Is that too much for me to ask?”

  I shake my head as best I can, trying to placate him.

  “Well, it’s too late now. He thinks he can shove me out the way, then he can pay the consequences.”

  Josh starts eyeing up my body and my skin ripples with disgust. The fabric of my clothes hangs loosely at my side, my body open to him. I don’t want him to cut me any more, I need to kick my brain into gear and work out a way to escape.

  “You have really pretty skin. It looks so tender.” He makes another pass with the knife, pressing in hard enough to pierce the skin and drawing a snake-like pattern down my chest to my stomach. The sting from the cut throbs. My whole chest feels like it’s covered in cuts. Josh leans in, watching his handiwork as he traces the lines again and again. The tip of the blade runs over the flesh of my boob, close to the nipple. His weight shifts and gives me a fraction of room.

  My right arm is still outstretched, and I force it to feel for anything I can use as a weapon. There’s a fireplace next to us. My fingers edge inch by inch, searching until I feel something hard and cool. I wrap my fist around it and swing.

  An ear-piercing clatter startles us both before I arc my arm and hit him with the metal object in my hand. A loud thud signals my strike and I feel Josh’s body go limp and stumble away from me a little. I don’t leave it to chance and clobber him again.

  He slumps to the side, and I push him further from me. He sprawls out on the carpet, his legs and body resting near the entrance to the room. I slide myself back on the carpet until I hit another wall. I clutch the metal fire poker in my hand and bring my knees up to my chest. I cower in on myself, but right now I don’t have the capacity for bravery.

  Tears track down my face and cause the cut to sting even more as the salt mixes into the wound. I want to wrap myself up, but I’m afraid to look at what Josh has done. The slight tickle of liquid seeping down my skin tells me I’m still bleeding, but I can’t look. Looking will mean I have to acknowledge what he’s done. My bleary eyes lock onto the doorway where Josh’s body lies motionless.

  The gentle tick-tock of a clock comes into focus and I concentrate on the sound. Terror rules my body, but the regular sound stops me from going into panic. My mind shuts down to my fear response and I’m only just hanging on to reality. The pain I felt a few moments ago is fading to a dull ache as I focus on nothing else but Josh’s body. I need to be ready. I can’t let him touch me again. I can’t let anyone touch me again.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I blast the horn, blaring my voice out of the window to get the British traffic to move out the fucking way. He’s making her dinner? Dick. And I know exactly why he’s taking her to our family home, because it’s quiet. It’s the same place I’m trying to get to as this damn traffic pushes me backwards. I only need to get through this fucking town and I’ll be on back roads. I snarl at a woman who turns to look at my constantly hammering horn, and eventually round the wheel and turn the car onto the pavement, frustration fuelling the move.

  A shocked onlooker scrambles out of my way as I ride the kerb, feet rushing to get away from my accelerator pushing hard.

  What the fuck Josh is up to is anyone’s guess, but it’s just the sort of thing he’d do. He probably just wants a cut of big brother’s prime fucking meat. Pissed at me for not letting him have a go at her ass, and equally pissed at me for sending him back here so I didn’t beat the shit out of him.

  Open road finally come
s into my vision, small lanes funnelling into narrower ones, English countryside overhanging the edges. I round each one at speed, focusing on my destination and hauling the Jaguar into tight corners only to flatten my foot again once I’m out of it. Fucking dick. He deserves a beating for this, let alone all the rest of the shit he’s caused this family over the years.

  I thought I’d got it organised in my head. Thought the plane journey’s silence here had given me time to think and understand what I was going to say to her if I found her in a state, but then I turned my phone on again.

  I’d woken, showered, got into some clean clothes, and then found the car once we landed. It took thirty seconds to read two texts from an unknown number, and the moment I realized they were from her, I floored the car.

  She misses me.

  The first part of this journey was spent trying to work out what the fuck that means. How does someone like her miss someone like me? But by the time I let whatever the fuck Josh is up to get into my mind, I lost care about what it means, only that it was fact and she needed me.

  Loose chippings are kicked off the tyres, their crunch tightening my vision along the black petering-out roads. I’ve driven them before, but never at such speed. It makes the car rebound roughly as I swerve the banked sides, metal hitting something as I do. Until, finally, the half mile drive comes into view.

  I brake hard and veer off, cornering into it as if something’s on my tail with a barrel aimed at my head. There are no limits to what I could find. I’ve cleaned up all sorts of shit for my brother over the years. Sex, drugs. Whores near dead after his play parties. A couple of deaths, some show of his useless fucking power to the rest of our world.

  He has no power. I do.

  The thoughts increase my fury at his devious behaviour, making what was annoyance at his insidious game turn into full on rage. It’s so like him to do this sort of shit. Wind big brother up. Get some attention. Have something that’s not his just because he’s a spoilt little boy who never fucking grew up. Perhaps I should have worked him harder, been harsher with him. Taught him some better manners at least, because this woman is not his to have. She’s mine.

  The house is only half lit up as I approach, the outside lights showing the garden’s country charm, but there’s only one or two lights on inside. I slow, watching for movement, and let the car quietly creep the final few turns onto the courtyard. The main lounge is dim. One bedroom the same, a low glow coming from behind drawn curtains. Bile rises at the images that circulate my head. They’re fucking in there. He’s turned the charm on, smiled his sweetest fucking smile and managed to get his dick inside something that isn’t his to get into. The thought of his fingers anywhere near her repulses me, fuelling hatred that I didn’t know I had for him. Family or not, this is the last fucking straw.

  I get out and walk the pathway, trying to contain the need to let fate have its way with the little cunt. I told him I’d pull the trigger myself. I just might if the first thing I find is his bare ass smirking at me.

  My key quietly lodges in the lock, unable to twist regardless of my pressure on it. He’s dead bolted it. It makes me stall and check the edges, looking for how easy it would be to kick down and surprise him.

  “Josh,” I call out. “Open the fucking door.” No sound comes back, even after a minute of waiting. “Emily?”

  Still nothing.

  “Josh, you’ve got ten fucking seconds to get your ass down here before I break this damn door down.” It’s loud enough for the next fucking village to hear, but still there’s no response.

  Dread begins to crawl through me, some latent memory of his behaviour when he’s done shit he won’t own up to. Without thought, my foot kicks at the door, not enough power to do anything to it. I grab hold of the sides, increasing my strength, and crash at it again and again until it flies open, hinges rattling as it slams against the hall wall.

  It’s quiet inside. No movement. No sound. I glare up the stairs at the dim light shining down, building myself up to the fucking climb that’s going to lead me to them, and then take a step forward. My footsteps clack the parquet floor, sounding my arrival more than the slam of the door. I’m pissed. Aggravated with him for fucking her and annoyed with my feelings about that. I’m fucking jealous. Jealous and bitter. I can feel it biting in with every footfall, acknowledging this love I’m only just admitting.

  A noise to the left catches my attention. I twist my head, listening for more. A slight murmur of something, something I can’t quite hear. I walk towards it slowly, checking the stairs behind again and then turning back in the direction of the noise. It’s coming from the lounge, but the moment my hand reaches the handle, it stops.

  I push to widen the door, but it nudges against something, so I push harder and notice a man’s foot. I shove it fully, opening it, and find Josh slumped in the corner of the room, his hand on the back of his head. I pull my gun, instantly backing up to him and glaring around the room for threat. It’s as silent as it was when I first entered.

  “Emily?” There’s no response. I turn and haul Josh up against the wall, still searching the room for her. She’s nowhere to be seen. “What happened, Josh?” I ask, lifting his hand to inspect a large gash. “Who’s here?” He doesn’t answer, so I rest him back and stand to look for Em again. “Emily, where are you?”

  Four steps across the lounge to the fireplace, gun aimed at any dark shadow, and I find her. She’s huddled in the corner, her knees up to her chest and a twisted look on her face. She just stares back into the room. I scowl at her, noticing a grate poker at her side. It lies two feet from her outstretched arm, her fingers still open as if she’s dropped it there.

  I crouch in front of her slowly, getting in her eye-line, and frown at the slash on her face.

  “Did you do this to him?” She doesn’t acknowledge me at all. No sign of life as she keeps gazing straight through me. “Emily?” Makeup tracks her cheeks enough for me to see the fear she’s dealt with. Her face is frozen in her last moments, just like Mother’s does sometimes. It’s etched with terror, tears imprinting the bloodied streaks that fell. “It’s Quinn, Em. You’re safe.”

  Josh groans behind me, a muttered rally of words coming from him. I spin to look back, suddenly noting the blood on his right hand. “What happened here?” I ask again. I look back and forth between them. There’s still no movement from Emily, but Josh begins pulling himself to his feet. I narrow my eyes at him, disgusted with the thoughts currently circulating my head. The only reason I can see for her attacking him, if that’s what happened, is rape.

  “Did she do this to you?” I ask, the gravel in my voice barely containing my fury. He scowls and touches the cut on his head again, bringing it to his eyes to see the blood. “Josh?”

  “Bitch said no,” he slurs.

  Any element of containment is gone the second he admits it. I stand and storm over to him, drawing the fucking gun up again just for the satisfaction of shoving it into his mouth.

  “I should damn well put you down,” I spit, sick and tired of him. “I’ve taught you better than this. She’s never been yours to touch. I warned you, Josh. You’re just fuck up after fuck up.”

  He laughs and glares in return, his hand reaching for my gun and trying to knock it out of the way before I pull the trigger. I grip tighter and shove it at him, my other hand grabbing at his skull and jostling him back to the floor where he damn well belongs. The whole fucking situation disgusts me.

  “I learnt from the best,” he growls, his cheek grating the floor. I glower at the words, ready to pull the trigger if he means I taught him this. I’ve done nothing but protect him my entire life. Screw up after screw up, juvenile behaviour gone wrong.

  “The fuck does that mean?” I ask, pushing his head one more time and then backing off. “I never fucking taught you to rape women.” My gun smacks him hard on his cheek, blood flying from his lip as I pull it away. “You’re your own fucking fault, Josh. I’m done shielding your ass
.” He spits onto the floor and coughs, another fucking laugh following it. “This damn well sickens me.”

  Emily whimpers and then hums behind, causing me to turn and look at her. It’s like a damned siren’s song calling me back to her, notes drifting quietly from her lips. I step to her, ready to pick her up and get us both away from this cunt. Family or not. This is over now. I’m done with whatever the fuck he’s become. He’s got no place in the family after this.

  Still there’s no movement from her as I gaze at her fragility. She’s like a fucking ghost sitting there, skin as white as the vest top draping her frame.

  Suddenly, my body goes from beneath me, the weight of Josh crashing into me sending me flying into the coffee table. I struggle against him, hands grabbing for anything I can get hold of, my gun falling from my fingers. The table collapses, splinters of it puncturing my skin as I heave wildly at him and wrestle my way out.

  “The fuck you doing?” I shout, forcing him away from me with another shunt. He flicks out a blade, and backs towards Emily. I spin to her, ready to kill this dick if he goes anywhere near her again. Still she hums her tune, her eyes blank as he sneers at me.

  “This is all your fault, Quinn,” he states, malice coming from him as he gets in my way and blocks me from her. I frown and then scowl at him, one step forward. “Stay there,” he snaps, holding the blade up and slicing it through the air. “You should watch this. You’ll be proud of me. You made me this way, brother.”

  I halt, wondering what the fuck he’s talking about, and glance at the gun behind him. He smiles like the dick he is, wielding his blade and backing another pace towards her.

  “You’re not fucking touching her, Josh.”

  He comes at me like a madman, hand manipulating the knife in my direction as I try to move, but it’s too late for me to duck. I brace my arms out in surprise, hoping to keep him far enough away for the steel not to stab me, but he’s so quick that we both go storming towards the far wall until I grunt from its impact on my back. He pushes away from me and tracks the floor back to her.