Текст книги "Wrenched"

Автор книги: Emma James

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 11 страниц)

3 Months Later

I’ve spent three solid months at Miss C’s. Life has been quiet, peaceful, and there has been no danger lurking in the shadows waiting for me. I remain a secret, living under the town of Connard’s nose.

My superhero never came for me, but that’s okay. I feel better knowing it was all up to me in the end. I made the right choices and found people who I call family.

My past life is now locked away deep inside me. I only want to think about the present and how I have miraculously been granted freedom and a happiness I never knew was there for me.

To keep myself busy, I made a large vegetable garden for Miss C. It was something I knew how to do and it made me happy. I fenced it off and made a gate. Linc wanted to help me, but I needed to work the soil with my own hands and make it my own. Hard work never hurt anybody, and it was a soothing balm for my chapped and blistered mind.

Miss C would bring out freshly made lemonade for me while I worked away from morning to nightfall. Boxer and Linc got me the seeds I needed, and I became quite obsessed with filling that soil with them and caring for them. I made a flower garden for her as well.

I landscaped her backyard until I had no more room to dig and plant. It was therapeutic to my soul. It kept the boxes in my mind locked down tight. Soon, I will be able to start picking the fruits of my labor for her to enjoy.

I may not have had much more meat on dem bones, as Miss C calls them, but they are strong bones now. I have muscle, I’m tanned, and I work off everything Miss C tries to fill me up on.

I wanted to give something back to the old lady who has done nothing but care for me. She’s very special to me.

Boxer has taken on this father-like role. He is a good man, a loyal man. If I understood love, I think what I feel for Miss C and Boxer is on its way to being that. I want to be able to voice that one day to them. It upsets me if I can’t lay eyes on the both of them every day, even if it is just for a half-hour with Boxer. I can’t lose these two people who have made my life worth living.

They saved me, treated me right from the minute they laid eyes on me, and my respect for them has never been challenged.

Lincoln has become my friend. He makes me laugh. I could see how much he wanted to help me landscape Miss C’s property, but he also knew it was my thing that helped to keep my demons at bay. He watched me struggle with the fence posts, and I watched him having to hold himself back as I got blisters from stabbing the earth with my shovel and hammering every single post in by myself. I saw how proud he was of me when he dropped in to see how I was progressing.

Miss C would often sit on her back porch swing and watch me while she shelled her peas, rocking back and forth, an understanding look on her face. She knew I had to keep busy, and she knew I had to exhaust myself each and every day so the nightmares would be too tired to seek me out at night.

Miss Catherine got me to meet with Dr. Evelyn Castille for a check-up not long after I had arrived at her home. Dr. Castille came to the house because I couldn’t get in Boxer’s car to go to her. I tried, but the panic was all-consuming.

I had never had medical attention before, so I didn’t know what to expect. She wanted to take me for x-rays, but the most I would allow was blood to be taken. She got to prod me while she hummed to herself and made notes. I just lay there like a scared rabbit on my bed. She wasn’t too invasive; it was just a basic check-up. I wouldn’t have agreed to anything more at the time, and Boxer had told me she would only examine what I agreed to. I didn’t want to know if I had been raped. It was easier to lock it all down tight until I was ready. She hummed louder when she saw my lower back and the scarring left from William’s beatings.

I haven’t been able to set foot outside the perimeter of Miss C’s property, and I haven’t wanted to, but today is the day I will be taking that big step. I have gotten used to the comfort and safety her property has awarded me. I knew this day would come eventually, but I needed this time to myself, and now I’m ready.

Today, I’m going out with Boxer and Miss C to be shown around the town. I don’t have to get out of the car if I don’t want to. I’m not up for meeting people today, but I’m happy to find out about the place I live in and just drive. Miss C has packed us a lunch, and we are going on a ‘road trip,’ as she called it, for me to see a bit of Louisiana.

I’m putting on a face for these people who care for me. On the inside, I have to work every day to keep my past life tucked away. I know they all watch me for signs of any mental disturbance, but I’m not about to get locked away in an asylum.

I take every day as it comes, and look at the positives and ways for me to deal with my own anguish myself. I can’t change it. I’m trying to be well adjusted.

What’s done is done.

I have a future to look forward to.

 

5 Months Later

My bastard of a father is dead.

Thank fuck for that.

My hands shake a little as I read the letter from his lawyer, my rage for the man pouring out of my fingertips.

I was brought into this world by that bastard, who taught me how to grow a set at a young age. I’ve not seen the man in nearly twenty years. I had often thought about finding him and showing him exactly who I’ve become, but that’s no longer relevant.

I was lucky because I got out from under him when I was eleven years old. The bastard was blackmailed into releasing...

But that’s another story.

Over time, I’ve learned the apple didn’t fall far from the tree in the end. That seed was apparently already sown, or I wouldn’t have turned out the way I did.

His death had happened eight months ago, and it’d taken them a while to track me down. I’m surprised they found me because I sure as fuck didn’t want to be found. Now, some bitch named Whisper has my fucking shameful inheritance.

No. Fucking. Way. Is any bitch taking that from me.

Who is she but some money-hungry old whore who got in good with him? She got her name on those papers, because he sure as fuck didn’t want to give his only son anything but one hundred dollars.

Yeah, I hold in my hand a check for one hundred dollars and a letter with my deceased father’s address on it.

It’s like he’s gloating from the grave.

Cocksucker!

My mother apparently left him when I was a baby, and he refused to talk about her or give me her name. She abandoned me to that man and no doubt got herself safe and sound away from his evil ways. I have no clue if she’s alive or dead. I was never granted any answers, and I sure as hell knew only to ask once. I haven’t even thought about her in twenty years.

I slam my fist down on my kitchen table, making my beer jump. What a pain in my fucking ass. I was gonna settle down tonight and get some sleep for once, but now I have this to deal with. I finish off the beer and toss it with enough force that it shatters against the inside of the bin.

“Motherfucker!” I roar at my ceiling.

I hope he can fucking hear me, too.

I’m pleased the bastard is dead, but there ain’t no way some old, bitching whore is taking what’s mine.

I snatch my cell phone off the table and punch in one number. I’m the fucking Soulless Bastards’ enforcer. I know how to make bitches disappear. My president picks up on the first ring. “Hazard...yeah, good...I need some personal time for a couple weeks because I just found out my father’s dead... Don’t be sorry. I sure as fuck ain’t,” I grunt back and I mean every word.

“Hazard, I need to clear up some financial matters. Are we good if I take off immediately?” I know he won’t have a problem with my request. I’ve given my loyalty to the club, and now I need to sort this mess out. He wants to know if I need backup. “Nah... this little misunderstanding will be easy to reconcile. Some random whore got dibs on my money.” I listen as he curses at my injustice. “Just holler if you need me for a job. I’m heading to Louisiana...no problems, will do. I’ll let you know when I get there.”

I scrub my hand over my face. He wants to send a brother with me. I don’t need anybody knowing about my past. “I’m good. I can’t see how this will be any trouble for me. I’ll be in touch.” I disconnect and grab a few things. I’m always packed, ready for a job.

I stop off in the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. I need to be careful because this isn’t club retribution; this is personal. I worked hard at keeping my birth identity a secret for fear my adopted parents would be harmed.

By the time I’m finished, my long, light brown, shoulder-length hair is laying on my bathroom floor. I’ve used the clippers and shaved it close to my head around the back and sides, and left it long on top, so I can comb it back or tie it up. I’ve taken my thick beard and reduced it to a closely shaved scruff on my face.

I grip either side of the hand basin as I look at myself in the mirror, admiring my handiwork. I look different, and that’s a good thing. Now, my own MC brothers would walk past me without a second glance. Without my cut on, I’ll be just another civilian. I have to go in this way. I don’t need the club brought into this.

My father would’ve been around fifty when he died. I’ve been gone nearly two decades, and I’m not Dallas, the eleven-year-old, scared, broken little boy.

I’m now Edge, a stone-cold motherfucking killer. Make no mistakes about that.

It doesn’t take me long to head on out to my Harley and start the trip. I can get a few hours ride in tonight, and then I need some sleep. If I stayed at home and went in the morning, it would only set me back a night. I need to sort this shit out ASAP.

Albuquerque to Louisiana, here I come. My father owes me, and if this is the only way he can pay up, then so be it. I don’t care if I burn the house to the ground, but some whore isn’t getting it just because she was weak and slept with the sick fuck.

The bitch now has a price on her head, to be paid in full.

She’s already dead.

She just doesn’t know it yet.

 

Boxer and Miss C are my champions. Boxer, my forty-five-year-old British friend, has helped me get back into society with legal papers, although they’re fake.

In the past eight months since I have lived with Miss C, many things have happened. I’m now a member of society. I exist on paper in a world, where before, I didn’t. I’m now a human being with rights and identification.

I didn’t ask how he made it happen, but I’m grateful I had stumbled across Miss C on that cold, rainy evening eight months ago, and that she trusted Boxer to know my secrets. I thank my lucky stars every day.

I will never know who my parents are or if I have anybody related to me, but I’m okay with that. There are still a lot of unanswered questions buzzing about in my head about my real parents. I try not to let it get to me too much. I know Boxer has tried. I worry about them and how they must feel having lost me.

There were no stories in papers that could be linked back to me. My birth date was given to me, a day that man cooked up. My colorings suggest I’m European. But who could give me those answers? The truth is buried six feet under.

My long dark hair and light olive skin make me look Italian, but the world is such a melting pot living among each other that I’m truly lost to my ancestry.

I don’t want anybody claiming me and knowing what their child went through, the horrors that had been done to me. It’s bad enough Miss C and Boxer live with this knowledge.

There’s such a deep void of emptiness when I think about my parents, so I don’t. I lock them away in a box. I am surrounded by people who care about me, and that will be enough.

I just want to start fresh and be plain ol’ Whisper. I never offer my surname, if I can help it, as it is a fake. I’m simply Whisper, and my name is my voice. I never raise my voice. I speak quietly; it was how I was trained. I find it easier to be quiet and not a loud presence. I don’t want to stand out.

I’m not looking for a man to notice me. I could be quite happy if I end up going to my grave single and in control of my own life.

I’m free. It feels amazing.

I’m Miss C’s friend’s daughter, and that is that. I simply appeared to have arrived in the small town of Connard one day looking for a job, and Miss C hooked me up with Boxer. I’m now his bookkeeper. I earn an honest, paid living. Miss C made sure the townsfolk welcomed me, and nobody questioned who I was. I was who I appeared.

All the hard drives of my life were in Boxer’s safe room at the back of the bar. I eventually gave the hard drive I took from William’s home to Boxer, and he promised he would not look at what was on it until I was ready to look at it. I put my trust in him that it would stay locked away in his safe. It was too soon to take all that on board, but it was mine to voice what happened to it.

For some perverse reason, I couldn’t destroy them. I had to keep them, for I knew one day I would indeed watch those years.

Little did I know it would be sooner than later.

 

A call in the early hours had me packing my bags and heading out for a few days. Now I’m sitting in a hotel room waiting for the intel we need to get this job completed so I can get back to Connard. Otherwise everything’s been relatively quiet these past months.

Whisper has been coming out of her shell bit-by-bit these past months. She was like a frightened deer for a long time, but we all just kept coaxing her out of the dark place she was in. She was trained to be lifeless and God knows what has gone on with her body. I have been tempted to take that hard drive out of the safe and find out what she was subjected to, but I couldn’t ruin her trust in me. Trust was a very big thing for Whisper, and I couldn’t break that.

We were all very careful not to tell Whisper what to do, but to teach her. She had to learn her opinion mattered.

Whisper thrived under Miss Catherine’s roof, and a strong, loyal friendship has built. I know that girl loves Miss Catherine, and I’m sure the old lady knows it too.

She has really blossomed around those she trusts. I think Miss Catherine would have had her heart broken if Whisper up and left her to explore the world that was waiting for her to discover, like any girl of her age.

I treated her like a daughter. I knew I shouldn’t get close to her that way. She had every right to up and leave one day, but I too would have missed her.

We were an unplanned family.

I could see Lincoln hanging around a fair bit too. Once I knew the danger to her was non-existent, Lincoln wasn’t needed anymore, but he still found ways to drop on by Miss Catherine’s place and offer his services for repair jobs around her home. He is drawn to her like we all are.

Lincoln’s only twenty-seven, and I trust him with my life. He is a respected member of my team. I can see he’s very protective of Whisper and values their friendship, and would do the right thing by her, because she isn’t ready for anything other than the friend zone.

I have gotten Whisper involved in training. I personally think it helps to take her mind off things, and she’s good at it, because she’s disciplined. She comes over to the bar and works out the back with me on weights and the heavy bag. I’m teaching her self-defense because knowing she can look after herself will help to empower her mind into confirming she’s in control of her life. A strong mind and a strong body is what she needs. I’ve taken her to the gun range, and she can now handle a gun. She’s getting pretty good at it too.

The townsfolk have been great welcoming a new person among them. It helps that she’s so likable. We have spun a good enough story for those who have enquired, keeping the nosier ones’ minds at bay. Life has gone on without a hitch. Nobody would know the trauma Whisper has been through. She understands the importance of not letting her guard down and telling anybody. There’s a lot at stake with my involvement in her cover up.

William Dupré’s death is no longer gossip. His son didn’t even come to the funeral, he was pretty much a phantom because nobody had ever met him, and as far as I can tell, the house hasn’t been visited.

Whisper has taken to staying with me sometimes, and I’ve got to admit I like having her company. I may have missed out on having children, but having Whisper around makes up for it.

I know she feels she owes me some of her time as payback. I’m more than happy she’s safe under my roof or Miss Catherine’s. She needs the freedom to roam between our homes. It validates the fact that she can do what she wants. The first time she told Miss Catherine she was going to stay with me overnight, she got herself all stressed out about letting her know. Miss Catherine has this weird sixth sense, so she knew what was coming, and she set Whisper straight. Now she comes and goes as she pleases.

To aid in her independence, Lincoln and I helped her get her driver’s and motorbike licenses. It was important that she acted like a normal twenty-one-year-old on the surface. Until we can get her a car, she borrows one of my bikes. She hasn’t ventured very far, only to Miss Catherine’s or the bar, or she goes riding with Lincoln on the back roads. I know she enjoys the freedom.

We have given her everything she needs if she wants to up and leave Connard, but she hasn’t. For that, we are all grateful.

I worry she hasn’t talked to a therapist about her time with that bastard. I watch her for signs of distress, and she holds it altogether well.

Too well.

I don’t want to pressure her to talk to a stranger in a room with a pad and pen, who will analyse her. She’s smart. I know she will do what she needs to do when the time is right. It helps talking to me and Miss Catherine, but we aren’t professionals at dealing with this type of mental trauma. We can only be here when she needs us.

Little the fuck did I know that was gonna be sooner than later.

 

Catching up with Linc at the Little Cafe in town is always a treat. We enjoy spending time together. I’m sitting here on my lunch break, waiting for him to arrive, while Lenny, the old black jazz musician, is playing his saxophone across the road. He plays beautifully. He just sits there on an upturned wooden crate on the corner of the street, having a smoke around lunch time each day, talking to the residents or playing his saxophone or trumpet for the town.

Miss Catherine told me Lenny turned up in Connard around twenty years ago. He’s a little sweet on her, and she doesn’t mind the gentlemanly attention he gives her when she’s in town. I’m beginning to think they would make for a great elderly couple. She told me he was once part of a famous all-black jazz band. She’s always polite when he woos her with a special piece of music every time she walks past his corner. It’s like he’s trying to talk to her through his music, but she never extends any invitation to him.

Sometimes, I see Lenny watching me curiously when I’m running errands for Boxer or taking a walk on my break. I’m not afraid of him. I’m more inquisitive of the looks he gives me and what he’s thinking. He couldn’t possibly know about my past, but he looks at me like he knows something. When I start to feel conscious of his watchful eyes, I look over at him, and he will be giving me a big, toothy smile, and that settles my thoughts. He will bob his head as he lifts his chocolate brown, felt, pork pie hat, and say, “Miss Whisper, nice day for a walk.” Then I feel relaxed again.

Suddenly, an overweight, dark-haired man pulls the chair opposite me out, inviting himself to my table, startling me out of my thoughts. He is direct, holding his hand out for me to shake, which I do. “Whisper, I presume. My name is Jonathan Boothe. I am William Dupré’s lawyer.” He licks his lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, my dear.”

I snatch my hand back out of his and he gives me a sleazy smile. I don’t like him at all.

“It has taken me a while to track you down, but now that the papers have been served to the other party, I must reveal to you a document that William had in place in case he departed this world before his time.”

He raises an eyebrow at me knowingly.

What does he know?

“I don’t understand.” Nobody is supposed to know about my past.

“I’m just William’s lawyer who is passing on this document to you.” He gives me a smirk. “It took me too long to locate you...Miss Whisper...De Ville.” He says my last name on a horrid sneer. “Where have you been hiding, my dear? I thought you had skipped town, long gone, but on a third attempt, to my surprise, I found you right here.”

I need this man away from me because he talks like he knows things about me. He waits for my response to his remark. I give him nothing but silence. Boxer and Miss Catherine drilled it into me to never talk about my past, no matter what.

My hands are starting to tremble, and I can feel myself sweating. I want this man to leave me alone. There’s something toxic about him; I feel it in my gut. I start to get up and move away because he’s sending my mind into a tailspin.

He grabs my arm and wrenches me down hard onto my chair, my elbow slamming into the table top. He’s a lot stronger than he looks. His calm façade is slipping as he grits his teeth together. “Now, now, let’s not be hasty. I only want to talk to you…unless you want me to tell your secrets to the good townsfolk?” He lets go of my arm when he sees I’m not going to get up again.

Did he just threaten me?

I watch him lick his bottom lip slowly as he studies me, his mask firmly back in place. I do not like the way this man makes me feel. He’s about William’s age, and I want to get away from him now, but he knows things. The sooner I hear him out, the sooner he will leave me alone. I can hear Lenny has stopped playing his saxophone and I start to look over to him, when the lawyer continues talking.

“Listen up, missy.” He looks over at Lenny calmly. “I can see I’ve already attracted a little attention around here, so I am forced to be brief.” He takes an envelope out of the inside of his suit jacket and slides it across the table to me. “Take it and enjoy your rewards.” He then looks back across at Lenny, who I can see has put his saxophone down and is making his way across the main street towards me, going as fast as his eighty-year-old frame will allow him, while he stops a car with his hand held up in front of himself. I turn back to the lawyer and he’s gone.

“Miss Whisper...” Lenny’s calling out to me as he nears me, watching that horrible man as he hurries off down the road to his car. I stop watching him and focus on Lenny. I feel better now that the lawyer is gone and quickly fold the envelope and put it inside my bag. I will look at it later. I can’t afford to draw unwanted attention that will bring questions. I need to stay under the radar in this town.

Lenny has reached my table, and he looks at where the lawyer has gotten into his car and driven off, and then back at me. “Miss Whisper, are you all right? I couldn’t help noticing that man had sat himself down uninvited. I know you are waiting on that nice boy, Lincoln.”

I put on a calm voice as I wipe my hands on my jeans under the table. I give Lenny a confident smile and tell him I’m fine. I give no more information, and for that, I feel bad. What could I tell him that wouldn’t get me more questions?

I thank Lenny for his concern and tell him how wonderful his music playing is just as Linc turns up. He gives Lincoln a nod of his head and then leaves me to go back to his corner. I know he wasn’t pleased with my vague reply and he was genuinely worried about me, but he was gentlemanly enough not to enquire any further.

“Hey, Whisper, sorry I’m late. I had a few last minute things that needed my urgent attention.” Lincoln has taken to giving me a peck on the cheek when he greets me, and today is no different. “What was that all about with you and Lenny?”

Great, now I have Lincoln noticing a little something was going down between the two of us. Fanny, our waitress, comes over when she sees Lincoln seated and notes our orders, and I take the opportunity to change the subject.

“Linc, why aren’t there any people in this town my age? My only true female friend is Miss Catherine.”

He thinks about my question. “This doesn’t seem the type of town for young people to want to stay around in. There really isn’t much to do here. I could see them gravitating to New Orleans, which would have the entertainment that young people enjoy and the job opportunities.” He really is a beautiful man, very kind and patient with me. He’s looking very handsome in black jeans, boots, and a long-sleeved button up.

“Why are you here in Connard?” I have wondered where he goes when he isn’t here, but I never wanted to pry. From the look on his face, I can tell I have surprised him with asking a personal question.

“Look at you getting all nosy on me.” He’s stalling for time. “I sometimes work for Boxer, so I’m here when he needs me, and sometimes I’m here because I want to be here, and other times I work somewhere else for a little while.” He shrugs off his casual response to my curious question. I’ve never wanted to pry because Lincoln has never asked about my time with William, and I know Boxer has secrets too, so I can’t help being inquisitive about the both of them.

Fanny brings over the coffees and sandwiches, and Lincoln, being such a big guy, starts inhaling his lunch. This looks like a snack for him, not a lunch.

I raise one eyebrow at him. “You cutting down on your food intake today or something?” He just laughs at me and shakes his head, while I nibble on my sandwich. I’m still not used to eating a lot of food in one sitting. Once he has finished his, I offer the other half of mine. Lincoln takes it, knowing my eating pattern. He never pushes me to do anything I don’t want to do. He’s very easy for me to be around.

I’m definitely curious to know more about Linc. I take a sip of my coffee, ready to ask my next question. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

He smiles a very knowing smile at me and replies, “No. I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh. Wow!” I know my eyes must have gone huge because Lincoln’s shaking his head and laughing at me again. I don’t know what else to say, so I take another drink of my coffee. That will teach me to be nosy.

Lincoln pulls out his wallet and shows me a picture of a really nice looking guy wearing glasses. “That’s Joel. We have been seeing each other for a few months. He lives in New Orleans and is a computer genius. You met him when he helped me with the armoire.” He lowers his voice and brings his head close to mine across the table. “Boxer knows him, and we got together after he came to help Boxer clean William Dupré’s home of your existence, and that’s the only thing I’m gonna let you get out of me.” He sits back and says louder, “We kind of hit it off. We enjoy each other’s company, and we are exclusive.”

I can see how relaxed he is talking to me about Joel. “I’m happy you’re happy. You shouldn’t be spending all this time with me, when you can be catching up with Joel.”

“I enjoy your company too. You’re a great girl. You should come with me one day and we can make a night of it in New Orleans with Joel and his friends.”

I know Lincoln means what he says. “I would like that.” I think I’m ready to be around a city of people and nightlife. This town and its small population have been good for me as I adjusted to belonging somewhere, but there are no people my age.

Lincoln gives me a serious face. “I do want to see you happy.”

I take his hand and squeeze it. “I really do like having you as my friend, my only friend, here in our twenties.”

“Well, we better find you some more before you turn into a spinster with a house full of cats.”

I laugh off Linc’s comment, but is that what I have in store for me staying in this town? I want to travel a little, but I want this place to be my base. At the moment, I’m comfortable where I am and with the people I have put my trust in.

I know I’m free to do as I please, and this has been enough for me, but I’m young and I know there’s a big world out there for me to one day conquer.

I think another change of topic is due. “Does Boxer know about you and Joel?”

Lincoln shrugs. “No reason to really tell Boxer. It’s private. I don’t feel it makes a difference to my work ethic.”

He looks at his watch and pulls some cash from his wallet then sets it down on the table. “My turn today,” he states. I go to protest, but I know there’s no point. “I actually have to cut this lunch a little short and get going, but how about we go for a ride on the bikes later this week? I know Boxer’s away at the moment and won’t be back for a few days, and this will be the first time it’s only you and Miss Catherine—”

I cut him off. “We’ll be fine. I will be fine.” Having Linc here, I almost forgot about the document I was just given. I worry my bottom lip thinking about what I should do.

Linc watches me for a few beats, hoping I’ll talk first. “Babe, what is it? I have to leave, but I gotta know what it is that’s worrying you.”

I exhale loudly because I can do this. I’m about to let a wall down and show Linc the letter. “Lincoln, Joel is so very lucky to have you. I just wanted to say that, and I’m so grateful to have you in my life. You really are my best friend.”

I’m just about to reach for my handbag, when his phone starts ringing. He looks at the caller ID and holds one finger up at me as he steps away from the table to answer the call. He looks upset as he listens to the caller. Before he disconnects, I hear him say, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I get up from the table and walk over to Linc’s side. He’s running his hand through his hair and pacing back and forth, clearly upset.

“Are you all right, Lincoln?” I know he isn’t. I touch his back lightly before he spins to pace again.

He gives me a grimace, which I haven’t seen on Lincoln before. “Whisper, what was it you wanted to tell me before?” He’s changing the subject and trying to behave in a manner that won’t alert me to his distress.