Gigi: A Black Sentinels MC Novel

by Johns, Victoria

  “Don’t do this, Edward,” I begged.

  Edward stilled and exhaled, and I breathed in relief, too. I knew he just meant to scare me. The only one who looked disappointed was Tommy. Edward leaned down to my ear.

  “Play nice, bitch, or I’ll have to hold you down for him.”

  As my legs started to give way, he hurled me in the direction of Tommy and shouted, “You knock her up, you deal with the both of them. We clear?”

  “No! No! No!” I screamed until I was hoarse.

  I knew I wasn’t going to win this fight and the woodshed was still a possibility after everything I was about to go through. I let the words dribble from my mouth, mixed with tears. “Please.”

  I heard Tommy’s belt buckle hit the floor and felt his hardness from behind. As he forced me over the hay bale, I felt cold air hit the back of my thighs. “Please, God. Stop!” I begged.

  “Always thought you were a fine piece of ass.”

  I felt my panties being ripped from my body, and it didn’t matter how much I squirmed or fought I was never going to be able to fight him off. The more I fought, the more he wanted it. The sharp, rough edges of the hay scratched and cut into the fronts of my legs but even with as much pain as that caused me, it was nothing compared to what I endured that night.

  I didn’t remember a lot. I did as much as humanly possible to blank it all out.

  I cried myself to sleep, knowing I hurt in places no one should ever hurt.

  With my body curled up into a ball under my bedclothes, I heard my bedroom door creak open. “It’s just me, Gigi,” Momma whispered, coming to sit by me. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

  “Why,” I asked, finally coming out from under the sheets, “did h-h-he do that?”

  “Because he’s twisted up inside. It’ll get better soon.”

  Momma gave me the same line daddy had been feeding both of us for years, and I knew she didn’t say them with hope but because she was still completely delusional.

  I couldn’t run. I had nowhere to go.

  I couldn’t fight back. I wasn’t strong enough.

  I couldn’t leave Momma behind and she’d never leave the house that held so many memories of my father.

  But I could endure it. I’d been enduring it all along. I just had to keep on surviving for a little while longer, so I did what she did.

  I found a safe place inside myself.

  I chose to tread with extra care and caution, and to take whatever punishment he decided to dish out. I would bury that night in the deepest corners of my mind, along with everything else he’d done to me, and lock it away tight. And there it would stay, locked away until I was brave enough to face the monster that was my brother. Because I would be strong enough one day.

  Gigi

  “About yesterday.” I looked at Edward in shock. Was he about to apologize? “It’s done. Don’t let any other punks come calling.”

  Obviously not.

  I hated him.

  The fact that he was sat down eating his breakfast like nothing had happened was truly unbelievable, especially when I was struggling to sit down at all. I shuffled around the kitchen trying to hide how sore my whole body felt. My head was tender from his brutal hand slaps, my sides hurt from the belt and its buckle, my thighs were sore from the hay bale, and my private parts hurt from everything else I’d endured.

  The fact that my momma had cooked him a damn breakfast in the first place after last night was something else. That something else felt like betrayal. At least she could have poisoned his food.

  I wanted to scream at him that if I couldn’t have anyone calling then neither could he. Especially his rapist friend Tommy Vincent, but I wasn’t brave enough.

  I had no idea why Daddy put up with his behavior, but whatever the reason, he’d died and left me and Momma in the thick of it, and it wasn’t getting any better.

  Edward was a handsome man, so it wasn’t hard to see why women fell for him, but when the mask came off, the good ones sent him packing. A dent to his ego, that meant he was only able to hook the bad apples, like himself. Daddy had owned a lot of land in the middle of nowhere and it had passed to Momma when he died. I knew that I’d never see a square inch of it. Edward would get it all, but I didn’t care. When it came down to it, if it had been just Edward and me, I’d have been out of there faster than a rocket heading for the moon.

  The thing I didn’t get was that Momma still had choices. She could have sold it all and taken us away from this, away from him, but she didn’t. She was still there, so I was still there.

  Suffering.

  After Momma left me last night I came up with a plan.

  It was simple. Get through school and leave. In order to do that I had to toe the line. I couldn’t graduate high school if I was too battered to attend, and right now school was the only blessed place I felt safe.

  I would agree with everything Edward said, do everything he asked and become the perfect sister. It was the only way I could see to make it through each day.

  “I’m heading for my bus,” I mumbled, stuffing some fruit in my bag for lunch.

  “School isn’t for forever. Be glad when you get off your lazy ass and bring some money to this house. The lads could do with some eye candy in the office at the factory.”

  Over my dead body would I get a job at the same factory as him, and it was on the tip of my tongue to shout it. But instead, I stuck to the new plan of attack and gave a robotic, “Sure.”

  There was nothing else to say. It was clear I couldn’t control what happened to me physically, but my mind was another matter. I needed to fight hard to keep it in check and keep a grip on all that was me. My personality and my individuality. If I became a mouse like Momma, I’d never survive in the outside world when the time came.

  “Stay away from that preppy prick.” He chuckled around a mouthful of toast. “You also need to start doing the grocery shopping. Pull your weight around here, girl.”

  “I’ll need to borrow Momma’s car for that.”

  “No problem,” he agreed.

  That, right there, was some light in this deep, dark tunnel. I was going to get some extra time away from the house, in the real world doing normal things. Maybe this was his apology attempt, his conscience kicking in. I’d heard the saying that you catch more flies with honey.

  But the light at the end of my tunnel was an oncoming train for Momma. He’d just put a stop to her escape route; she only ever had church on Sundays and the grocery market. I leaned to kiss her goodbye and noticed that she was doing a good job of hiding the distraught disappointment his decree had caused her.

  “Have a good day at school,” he sneered. “While it lasts.”

  I ignored him and headed for the door.

  Once last glance at my momma showed me that she was hanging on until he left for work for the day, too. I tried to smile but found it hard to look past the bruise spreading across her cheek until I met her eyes. The sorrow in them was hard to bear, but the unspoken words cut deeper. There was an acknowledgment that something had changed last night and the look in her eyes was a reflection of my own sorrow. I knew that Momma was just about holding her own life together and that any hope she had of protecting me, whatever the future brought, was dwindling. The best hope we both had of making our way through it was for me to behave and be compliant. Or for him to leave, or better still, kick us out and force us to make our own way in the world, free of him.

  I walked the mile to the stop and waited for the school bus. I was the only one there, and the walk was done in my usual silence. No one sat next to me, and as the distance from home increased, so did my sanity and spirit.

  Putting my back pack on my shoulders hurt my back. I’d made sure to wear some comfy pants that hid the bruises and buckle welts on my legs. Thankfully, I didn’t have Phys. Ed. today.

  I walked into the school and wondered if people were looking at me. Could they tell the suffering I’d endured, or did they just see the same br
oken girl and choose to ignore me? Did I look worse because of Tommy’s attack? I felt worse, all the while still praying for the strength to fight back.

  As usual, no one noticed me and when I got to my locker, I let my forehead rest against the cool metal and breathed a little easier knowing I was safe inside the building. When I tried to pull myself together and open it, I noticed my hands were shaking. I had to pause for a minute before I could get my fingers to cooperate and work the combination dial of the lock.

  “Hey!”

  “Holy Moly!” I shouted, and dropped the books I had halfway out of my locker.

  “Jumpy much?” I recognized the voice and gentle, teasing laugh before I saw Topher stoop to retrieve the books from the floor. “Can we talk?”

  “I need to get to class.” I was so nervous being this close to anyone, especially Topher. Being friendly with him had caused all of my pain last night, and right now, I wanted away from him. I didn’t want to blame him, but I had to blame someone.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Please,” I begged. “I just need to get to class and keep on top of my studies.”

  “Ginny, you’re the most studious kid I know. There’s no way you’re behind in your classes.”

  I had to get away from this conversation and from him, so I stepped to the side, but he reached out to stop me. His hand hit the same place Edward had brutally grabbed me last night and I couldn’t hide the flinch and hiss of pain that being touched there again caused.

  He dropped my arm immediately. “Are you okay? What’s the matter? Are you hurt?”

  “Topher, it’s best if we don’t talk anymore. I appreciate your kindness in wanting to take me to the formal, but it’s just not going to happen. I hear Aurora would be interested, though.”

  Topher let me put some distance between us and handed me my books. I thought he was doing as I’d asked, but was proved wrong when he came back into my space.

  “You can tell someone, if…well…if you need help, if you’re in a situation.” I held my head high, ignoring him. “Just tell me one thing. Did I make it worse? Your brother seems like kind of an asshole.”

  I pulled my lips between my teeth and shook my head, willing him to believe me. It was an out-and-out lie. It was also the first time anyone at school had asked anything personal about me. Being an outsider had its advantages; there were clear lines of demarcation and Topher had just crossed them. He was the first person ever to take an interest. Even the teachers kept their distance.

  Topher sensed I wasn’t going to answer. “You need anything, I’ll always be here, okay?”

  A lone tear fell, and I was quick to mop it up. With grit and determination, I pulled myself together and told him in no uncertain terms how things had to be. “If you want to help, just stay away from me.” I turned on my heel and left him in my wake.

  I made it through the school day with minimal interaction, choosing to eat my lunch in solitude outside before heading to the library. If there was one place I was guaranteed to be left alone, the library had to be it and I needed to make use of it now more than ever. My studies were my ticket out of hell and I needed to keep on top of them.

  As soon as the school bell sounded during last period, I was out of my chair and rushing for the bus stop. I couldn’t be late home. It was vital I was there before him.

  Momma was in the kitchen getting dinner ready. She looked exhausted, but held out her arms to me, offering solace and comfort. She knew how tough I’d found the day. The problem was I was beginning to resent her. Even though I’d been subjected to something she would never mention again, it still wasn’t enough for her to take me and get us both somewhere safe.

  Edward came home from work and it was like the previous day had never happened. We ate our meal, he raged about the factory, Momma nodded in understanding and I ate in silence. The pretense of it all was just another form of mental torture. He made me nervous, which made me more nervous, and screwing up something as simple as eating a family meal would give him an excuse to commit some despicable act of violence towards my mother or me. I worked hard to remain invisible, I was that determined not to cause a fuss. With relief, I was finally excused from the table. I went to my room and finished my homework, feeling blessed to have made it through the day unscathed.

  Climbing into bed, though, my mind began to wander.

  It tiptoed towards the horrors of the night before, and as soon as I edged closer to acknowledging what had happened, it threatened to swallow me up. The only course of action I had was to push it back down, lock it away and think happier thoughts.

  It was tough, though; I didn’t have many happier thoughts.

  In its simplest form, my life consisted of going to school or getting beaten, so it was a while before I fell asleep.

  I couldn’t get past knowing that this was how my life would end up. God or fate or some twisted universe bullshit had not looked after me so far, so it wasn’t a stretch to see that my future would be just as tumultuous. In church on Sundays, the pastor always talked about sinning. I wasn’t the sinner; Edward was, so why weren’t bad things happening to him? The only sin I’d committed was that of temptation and wishing for a better life—a life worth living.

  The real dark thoughts came when I acknowledged that I was on borrowed time.

  While I was at school, I had a reprieve from this life. I could be a different version of me, but that would come to an end and I would lose the person inside me who was starting to grow and take shape. When I finished high school I knew I’d be lost forever and sucked back into the remote world of this house, the factory and my brother. Unless I found the courage to leave.

  I didn’t want to hate school or resent it, but how could I not?

  It had taught me that another life existed, that there was more out there if you were brave enough to go for it. It was a life that I would never ever have, and just like a dangling a carrot in front of Eeyore the donkey, it was something that would always be out of reach.

  Gigi

  A month had passed at home with no major physical incidents. The mental abuse was still in full flow, but I’d learned in school that misery was a great teacher, so I spun the complete mind game that Edward seemed to be enjoying so much into a positive, and somehow it didn’t seem so depressing. I was learning my boundaries, my own trigger points, and more importantly, coping mechanisms.

  I wish could have said the same for Momma, though. She was as fragile as a feather. It was as if the slightest gust of wind could take her down and pin her to the ground.

  She was deteriorating and didn’t seem to have the spirit to do anything about it. Getting help was the last thing on her mind. When I asked her why, she just kept saying, ‘penance’. Selfishly, I had to keep her going, at least long enough to sit my finals. My goals now were to finish school and help Momma. They sounded simple but they were difficult because Edward was intent on making my life hell and enjoyed seeing Momma suffer. We were both working towards different things and I was waiting for that to become tiresome for him.

  Edward still acted like the night he’d thrown me into clutches of his best friend to be violated had never really happened. There were times when I caught this gleam in his eye, though, and I knew the memories of that night were never far from his thoughts. Unfortunately, those thoughts weren’t of regret but of satisfaction, like it was a mission he’d accomplished.

  Some nights he seemed happy to not have Momma around at all. It was getting to the point where she was so sick, she couldn’t even join us for dinner. This pleased him no end. Her suffering seemed to calm the monster inside him. For me, it meant awkward dinners for two, which I dreaded. It took me a while to figure out, though, that when she wasn’t around he was a little bit calmer. Like her being in agonizing pain in the bedroom was enough suffering to appease him for one night. Those were the nights I got away without his punishments.

  The longer this went on the more conflicted I felt.

  I wanted Mom
ma around; we were a unit, fighting him on the battlefront. But Edward was a different person and even though he was still a cruel asshole, he seemed to a go a little easier on me. He didn’t morph into a nice character, but he was less psychotic. The fact that I was starting to hope Momma would stay and eat dinner in bed caused me some internal pain. How could I wish illness on her so I stayed safer?

  I was a terrible person.

  I ended up doing my school work on her bedroom floor in the evenings. I was trying to make her feel better because I knew she worried about Edward and I being alone, but I was also trying to atone for the things I’d come to understand in her absence.

  Edward didn’t hate me as much as he hated her. I was just a pawn in his game.

  My brother hated our mother with a passion, and when I took the time to look back, I understood that Daddy had always been the peacekeeper. His love for them both was the only bond between them, and even though she birthed him, she was terrified of just how much he really hated her. At first, her terror kept him at arm’s length. Then when Daddy had died, she’d realized that arm’s length was as close as he’d ever let her get, and because of that she’d given up trying.

  I tried to ask her a couple of times what ‘penance’ she was referring to, but she’d just mumble and give me synonyms, like a robotic dictionary. I couldn’t decide whether she thought I didn’t understand the meaning of the word or was just stalling. Either way, she never told me and the more she swerved the issue, the more I knew I was missing a massive part of something important.

  Something had made Daddy love Edward despite his violent outbursts, something that both Momma and Edward knew, and I’d been left completely in the dark, taking the brunt of it for years.

  At the dinner table every evening, I picked up where Momma had left off, nodding and sympathizing with him over his bad day, feeding him a home cooked meal and cleaning up after he’d decided we were done. I did the housework and cleaning, and got into a routine with the grocery shopping. When I sat behind the wheel of Momma’s battered old Toyota and turned the key, my pent-up fears were released as the engine struggled to come to life. This was my time to be a normal citizen and do some shopping, and even though it was a chore, I enjoyed it. I only hoped that with Momma no longer vacuuming the house from top to bottom and hauling big heavy groceries around, she was getting the rest she needed.