Текст книги "Contrite"

Автор книги: Kathy Coopmans

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

I lean back and let the water soak into my hair, and when it hits my face I brace my hands against the wall as it stings and burns my bruises and cut lip. No longer being able to hold my shit together, I slump down on the floor of the shower, pulling my knees up and placing my chin on top of them. All hell breaks loose as I cry silently in the middle of nowhere. I have never felt so alone in all my life.

Chapter Nineteen

Still trembling, I stumble out of the shower and sway, almost tumbling to my feet. I brace my hand on the wall for support as butterflies course through my veins. After several seconds I steady myself and pick up the towel, drying myself off and slipping my bra and panties on along with a long sleeve t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

It didn’t dawn on me until just now as I was rifling through my bag that there is only one bed in this room and I know the jerk isn’t going to sleep on the stained carpet floor. The thought of sharing a bed with him makes me suddenly become cold and a shudder runs through my body.

I fold up the sundress I had on earlier and stuff it in the bag. The knife catches my attention. I pick it up and raise it sluggishly to my eyes to get a better view. Jagged edges and at least a three-inch blade could do wonders if I had the guts to slice Trent up in his sleep. Bit by bit a smile creeps across my face as I picture him begging for his life while I cut out his black heart.

              “If only you had the guts to really do it, Clove,” I whisper.

I jump and nearly drop the knife when I hear a banging on the bathroom door.

              “Hurry the hell up in there, Clove! Unlock this motherfucking door now!”

What the hell has him so pissed off now? He’s so damn angry.

              “Clove! Open it now!”

Shoving the blade back into my bag and zipping it up, I unlock the door and swing it open and stare into the eyes of my kidnapper and attacker.

              “Don’t fucking lock the door again.”

He clutches my arms and pulls me flush against his body. He leans in and plants his face into the crook of my neck and sniffs.

              “You smell amazing.”

I cringe and feel my body go downright frigid as he licks his way up my neck to the base of my ear.

              “Don’t think for one minute you’re fooling me with those baggy fucking excuse for clothes you have on. I know exactly what’s underneath them. Besides, no matter what you have on, if I want it then I will damn well take it.”

His words make the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I won’t be able to survive another assault. I know I won’t. I am already coming apart at the seams piece by piece.

He finally releases me and snatches my bag out of my hands. For the briefest of moments I panic until he takes a step and tosses it onto the floor next to the bed.

              “You’re going to sit right there while I take my shower,” he orders, pointing to the toilet.

              “W-why?” I ask.

              “Because I don’t trust you and because I fucking said so. Now sit!”

He barks orders as if I’m a dog. Maybe I should lift my leg up and piss all over him, too. I mean seriously, where does he think I am going to run off to? I am just about to ask him when he stands directly in front of me and sheds his clothes.

Lowering my head to the floor, I focus on my toes which are still painted a bright shade of pink. Sighing heavily, I remember the first time I came home after spending several hours at the salon getting pampered with a mani/pedi and a massage and waxing everywhere.

Turner’s mouth practically fell open as I chucked off my flip-flops and laid on the couch, placing my feet in his lap. He loved this color of pink. He skimmed his hands up my legs until he reached the hem of my jean skirt and slightly lifted it to take a peek underneath. When he saw my smooth pussy, he pounced. Well, smooth and red.

              “You did all of this for me?” he asked with such a tender expression on his face. I simply nodded in return.

              “God, baby, it must have hurt.”

He kept his eyes glued to mine as he gently ran his hands over the top of my mound.

              “It hurt like a bitch and I will do it again and again if I get this reaction out of you every time I do it.”

I wiggled my toes in his lap as his thick erection stood at full attention. He lifted his eyebrow as if to challenge me.

              “Is that so?”

              “You know I would anything for you, sweetheart. Anything at all.”

And I meant it. I still mean it. I would do anything as long as it gets me back into his arms even for one last time. I will endure all of this pain and suffering. There really are no words to describe the torment I have endured, and after seeing that picture of Turner the other day, I know he is being subjected to some of the same agony I am.

Our love has to be strong enough for us to find our way back to each other and to have our happily ever after. I may have given up all hope of ever being back to the person I was before all of this happened, but I can never give up on true love.

From the very first time I looked into Turner’s eyes I knew he was the one for me, and what a wonderful journey it has been. I miss him. The way he touches me, kisses me, and looks at me. I am myself around him and I pray to God that he won’t be taken away from me. This horrendous, traumatic web of lies, deceit, and worst of all, betrayal on my part is something I have to live with for the rest of my life, and I will, just as long as I have him standing by my side.

The sound of the shower turning off draws me back to reality. I still don’t look up. I simply can’t. I can feel his eyes bore into me as he takes hold of his towel. There isn’t a sound to be heard except for him rustling around drying himself off.

              “You need to eat something, Clove.”

His demanding tone makes my blood start to boil. Yes, I am starving and extremely thirsty, but if I yield to him and eat, I know I won’t be able to hold it down. I shrug and keep my eyes glued to the floor.

“You’re making this situation harder on yourself than it needs to be,” he says as he walks past me and out into the small, musty motel room.

Now that he is finished with his shower, does this mean I can get up or am I supposed to stay here until he orders me to move? I hear him shuffling around in his black duffel bag he brought in with him and decide I am going to sit here until either he comes in and gets me or I know for sure he is dressed. Seeing him without any clothes on is a mental picture I can live without.

I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear a knock on the door. I go to stand up when he hollers for me to stay put. I stay standing in the middle of the bathroom floor listening to him say thank you and keep the change. He must have ordered some food. I get my answer as I take a large whiff and the aroma of pizza fills my nostrils. My stomach knows there is food and lets out a large growl.

Shutting off the light in the tiny bathroom, I round the small dividing wall and almost stumble right into Trent, who is standing there with his nostrils flaring and his fists clenched tightly to his sides. Taking a step back and out of his reach, I start trembling so badly I don’t think I will ever stop. I shake my head back and forth as if to say no, but he presses forward. I move backwards until I am resting up against the wall.

              “You’re really starting to piss me off with this bullshit game you seem to be playing by not talking or eating. Now I am only going to say this one more time, and unless you want a repeat performance of earlier today, you will go sit your ass on that bed and eat.”

He points his finger in the direction of the bed and my eyes follow.

              “You’re right.”

I stand tall and defiant. I do need to eat. I definitely don’t want him to put his hands on me ever again, and I need the strength to fight. Stepping aside so I can make my way past him, I plop my ass on the bed and cross my legs. I lift up the lid of the pizza box, and oh God, the smell of it makes me realize I am famished.

Not giving a shit, I pick up a piece and devour it like the starving woman I am. Opening one of the bottles of water that is lying next to the box of pizza, I down it and grab one more slice. I scooch my body back until I hit the headboard and then stretch my legs out in front of me. Like a good little girl obeying her parents, I finish off my pizza as I watch Trent grab the box and sit at the small table next to the window.

Within five minutes he has the rest of the pizza gone and tosses the box onto the floor. He slumps back in his chair. His body language gives away the fact that he is frustrated as he runs his hands down his face and then rubs the back of his neck. Welcome to the club, asshole.

Minutes tick by in this small, confined room and I start to shake my foot for no particular reason at all.

              “We need to talk about a few things I need from you, Clove.”

He breaks the spell of silence. What could he possibly need from me? This is the second time he has mentioned this. What could I possibly have to do with him getting his hands on all those stupid fucking millions of dollars he craves?

“I don’t know what I have that you need or how I can help you in any way.”

Truthfully I couldn’t care less what he thinks he needs from me, but then again, this isn’t about me. I need to get my head out of my ass and get it on straight to try and get to Turner, so I plaster on what has got to be the fakest smile in all of fake smile history as I turn and look at him.

“What is it you need?”

Good girl, Clove. You sounded strong and confident, and even though you are dying inside, do not look away from him. He already knows you’re scared to death of him and he could crush you completely again and leave you with absolutely nothing. With a will I didn’t even know I possessed, I hold his stare with icy, hate-filled eyes.

              “I need my brother’s signature on a few documents and he refuses. You are the only one who I believe can make him sign.”

His smug look and attitude have me laughing inside. I’ll be damned. Trent and his dear old dad can’t do a damn thing without Turner’s signature. If my husband has refused, then I need to play the rest of this game out right. There is no way in fucking hell I will make him sign a damn thing.

Until I see my husband, I am going to make a few demands of my own. This bastard is going to do exactly what I say. I muster my courage and swing my legs off of the side of the bed. When I turn and meet his gaze again, I enjoy seeing the wind taken out of his sails. I stick my hand out.

              “If you want me to help you, then let me talk to my husband.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me if you think I am handing over my phone to you and letting you talk to my brother. Are you entirely clueless as to how serious this is, Clove? Well, let me fill you in on just how severe and life threatening this whole situation is. Come sit.”

He twists in his chair and pats the bed directly in front of him.

              “I am not a damn dog so I would appreciate it if you would quit treating me like one and ordering me to sit. This room is like a jail cell, Trent. I can hear you just fine from right here.”

His head slowly goes down and he looks utterly defeated. I just stand there, lost. When he brings his gaze back up to mine, his eyes are full of unshed tears.

“Clove, I– I am sorry for what I did to you. I have no explanation for it. I did it, and I have to live with it. I am not going to ask you to forgive me because I know you won’t. I mean, how could you, right?” he scoffs. “Please sit down and let me explain things to you. Please.”

For the first time he is pleading with me. My legs move toward the bed and I sit at the edge as far away from him as possible. I have no choice but to listen to him, but no matter what he has to say to me, I will never forgive him for the brutal attack he forced me to endure.

So, he wants me to understand the reasons behind why he is doing all of this? I know I will never be able to understand, and I don’t really want to. He has taken a part of my soul and I will never get it back.

I keep trying to convince myself this was not my fault, but a part of me says it is. I will always think, ‘what if I did this?’ or ‘what if I did that?’ I will never be able to trust my own judgment again. My self-respect is destroyed beyond repair. I will never be my father’s little girl anymore or my brother’s little sister. I will always be Clove, the victim. Clove, the woman who slept with her husband’s brother. Clove, the woman who “allowed” herself to get raped.

I hate myself. Truly hate myself. The only thing I have to live for right now is making sure I do everything I possibly can to help Turner get out of this alive. So with this war currently waging inside my body, I steel myself and face the man who has won the battle.

              “I’m listening. Explain.”

Chapter Twenty

“You’ve shocked me, Clove.”

“And why is that?”

He props one of his arms on the table, his gaze drifting from me to the door and then back again.

“For as long as I can remember, my father has tainted my life against both my mother and my brother. I have always believed my mother didn’t want me. Dad used to always tell me she favored my brother over me and they would fight over it all the time until one day he got sick and tired of her smacking me around and packed up our bags and left.”

Brainwashed with a bunch of lies. I’m not surprised, considering what I know about his father. James would have done everything possible to ensure Trent’s unconditional loyalty. I don’t say anything, though. I just let him continue on with his story.

“I have tried and tried to remember my life when the four of us lived together. The very few memories I have are of my brother always being clumsy and me picking him up so we could continue doing whatever it was we were doing. I have tried more times than I can count to bring even the smallest details into my mind, and nothing. That’s it. I didn’t even remember what my mother looked like until a few years ago when Dad and I finally decided it was time to start putting this plan into motion.”

He’s like a small child sitting over there in the overstuffed chair as he mourns his lack of memories with grief written all over him. If I didn’t hate him as much as I do, I would actually feel sorry for him. All he knows is what he was told by his cruel father, and it is far from the truth, I know it is. Melody loved both of her sons more than life itself. She grieved every day for Trent. I continue to sit there in silence; saying nothing at this point is for the best.

“My dad was a good dad, except for when he would go on one of his drinking binges. Then all hell would break loose. Sometimes his spells would last for weeks at a time. He would bring countless whores over to our house and I would hear them in his room all times of the day and night. Shit . . . for my sixteenth birthday present, my dad arranged for one of his many sluts to wait for me in bed, naked and spread wide open. A teenage boy staring down at a piece of ass just waiting to be fucked? I was all over that shit. I thought I was living the good life, with pussy anytime I wanted waiting for me almost every day when I walked in from school.”

He shakes his head then rests it on the back of his chair, staring up at the ceiling.

“Did he work?” I blurt out.

              “Who, my dad?” He starts to laugh. “If you want to call dealing and selling drugs work, then yes, he worked. My dad is one scary son of a bitch, Clove. Even now in his old age, he scares the shit out of me.”

              “Was he abusive to you too? I mean, when you were growing up?”

“Fuck, up until I could actually fight back, that prick slapped me around any time he fucking felt like it. One day I punched him hard enough that he actually fell on his drunken, drug-riddled ass.”

He chuckles grimly at the memory before going on.

“I was raised by a drunk and a drug addict, that’s all I have ever known. When I was old enough to start dealing and making my own money, I did. At the age of eighteen I thought I had it all, living the good life. The dough kept rolling in, right along with any and every kind of piece of ass I wanted. You wouldn’t believe the kinds of shit chicks would do just to get their next fix.”

My eyes go wide and I freeze. I feel like I the walls of the room are closing in on me. Shit! I have had unprotected sex with this man! He has been with God knows how many women and they have been with God knows how many men. The realization makes me want to vomit. Trent senses something is wrong; he inches closer to me and kneels on the floor alongside the bed.

“Clove, what is it? You’re as white as a ghost.”

              My hand comes up and covers my mouth. Oh, God!

“You fucker!” I scream as I remove my hand and shove him backwards.

              “Clove, what the fuck?” he growls, pulling himself up to his full height and towering over me.

“H-how many women have you slept with?” I shriek, my voice breaking in panic.

Understanding dawns on Trent’s face.

              “Clove, I swear to you! I have always used a condom with everyone except you. I may be a lot of things, but ignorant is not one of them. I am clean. If anything, you have to believe that.”

His eyes silently plead his case, asking for mercy. I have none to give as I gaze back at him with hatred. Finally, he looks away.

“I know my word means nothing to you, Clove. Believe me when I say I don’t blame you at all. You don’t think I see how much you hate me when you look at me? Don’t you see? That’s the hardest part of this whole, fucked up mess,” he says, looking down at his side dejectedly.

What does he mean by that?

“Hate isn’t even a strong enough word for what I feel for you. I don’t think one even exists, Trent, but if there was I would multiply it a million times over, that I can assure you.”

“Like I said, I don’t blame you at all. I hate myself for what I have done to you, Clove. I have been obsessed with you since the first time I laid eyes on you a few years ago.”

I am so taken back by what he just said that I jump off the bed in shock.

              “Jesus Christ! You mean to tell me you have been following us for over two years? What the fuck is wrong with you?” I scream loudly.

“Keep your damn voice down! You said you were going to listen to me, so sit back down and listen, because I am far from fucking done!”

He then sits in silence for a moment, as if he is choosing his next words carefully.

“For the first few months, all I did was follow you around. I was so caught up in your beauty and innocence. I had never seen a woman carry herself with such grace and confidence in my whole life. Every time I saw you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, I wanted it to be my hands doing it for you. Seeing the way your face would light up whenever you would look at my brother would have me lying in bed at night pretending it was me instead of him. And fuck me for being the perverted prick that I am, but every time I would hear you moaning out your pleasure as I stood at the foot of your stairs listening to you making love with my brother, my hands would inch towards my gun, because I wanted so badly to climb those stairs and kill him as I screamed out that you were mine. Not his, not anyone else’s. Just mine.”

My head slowly starts to shake back and forth as I realize he is speaking the God’s honest truth for the first time since I have met him. He thinks he loves me? He has no clue what love really means. One minute he is raping me and beating the shit out of me, and the next he is telling me he wants me to be his alone. What the hell? This twisted motherfucker sitting before me has lost his damn mind.

Choosing my next words carefully is not easy. I cannot even begin to fully process what he has just confessed to me. The man has stalked me, broken into my home, and listened to my husband and me in our most intimate moments. He has invaded my life in a warped and disturbing way, and yet he sits there and feels comfortable coming clean about his feelings for me. What the hell kind of game is he playing at?

“Say something, Clove. Anything. Just say something.”

I stare blankly at him. After what he has just thrown at me, I am supposed to say something?

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Trent. Do you understand the absurdity of what you are saying to me? Do you actually hear yourself right now? When one person cares for another, they don’t do the vile and heartless things to that person that you have done, Trent. They don’t beat them and they sure as hell don’t rape them! Look at me! Look at what you have done! You have destroyed me. I’m broken beyond repair.”

Trent rakes his hands through his hair in frustration.

“I told you, that wasn’t me back there in my truck earlier! And as far as smacking you around and the brutal things I said to you at your house, I panicked. I had to do what I had to do to make you listen to me. Look, Clove, I don’t think you get what I am saying here. I am saying that you and I could have the world at our feet with this money. If you would just listen to my plan, we could escape from here and no one would ever find us.”

I just gape at him with my mouth hanging open at the sheer audacity of this piece of shit. Does he actually think I would leave my husband and run away with him? I could never love a man like him, let alone run away with him and live my life on the lam. What kind of life would that be? There is no amount of money in this entire fucked up world that we live in that could ever make me want to do that.

The silence hanging in the air between us becomes uncomfortable as Trent waits for me to speak. As I continue to say nothing, he begins to plead with me.

              “Listen, please. I have a plan. If you help me and it works out, this plan could save Turner’s life. After all of these years of my father drilling into me over and over again how much my mother hated me, I know it’s not true. It’s not. He doesn’t deserve a dime of this money, not one red cent. He deprived me of a normal, loving childhood with my mother and my brother, and my plan is to kill him.”

Wait, what? Kill James? I don’t know if Trent is trying to mind-fuck me or if he actually believes what he is saying. All I do know is that the only way I am going to have any shot at all of getting Turner and myself away from this madness is by pretending to go along with whatever maniacal plan Trent has concocted.

I don’t feel at all remorseful at the fact that Trent is planning to kill his father. He is the one who has orchestrated all of this and as far as I am concerned, he can burn in the hottest fires of hell for what he has done. He sounds even more screwed up than Trent is. If he loathes Turner, who is his own child, I can only imagine what he thinks of me. What might he try to do when we come face to face?

I need to clear my thoughts and the only way to do this right now is to try and get some rest. With that in mind, I take a deep breath and talk to my nemesis in a calm and controlled voice.

“You cannot expect me to just give you an answer right now, Trent. This is more than I can handle right now. It’s too much to process and I need to think. I need more information than, ‘oh, I have a plan and we are going disappear with millions of dollars in our pockets.’ It doesn’t work like that. Have you thought about where we would go, and what we would do with all of that money? This isn’t the movies; you can’t just hop on a plane with millions of dollars in a suitcase and head for the nearest island. And what about my family? Do you have any idea what this has to be doing to them right now? You say you were deprived of a loving home, and I cannot even begin to fathom what that must be like, but I wasn’t. You say you have watched me for years? So then you know how much my family means to me and how much I mean to them.”

He looks up at me with suspicion, but I see a gleam of hope deep in his eyes.

“What exactly are you saying, Clove?”

What I’m saying is that you have your head so far up your damn ass that you will most likely get all of us killed with this preposterous game you’re playing, I think to myself. What I say out loud is,

              “You have given me a lot to think about. I just feel like I need to know more of what you are thinking. I mean, stop and think about everything you just told me, Trent. Are you planning to go waltzing into wherever it is we are going and just point a gun at your dad and kill him? He doesn’t seem the type of person to be taken out so easily. And how do you really think you are going to get your hands on the money? I mean come on, you and Turner’s fingerprints don’t even match, for God’s sake. How in the hell do you think my brother found out who you were?”

“So you know I have a rap sheet. So what?” He shrugs. “It’s all petty crimes, mostly stealing food when I fucking needed it because my dad would be too damn drunk or too fucked up on drugs to notice there wasn’t any around. The only time we ever had food in our house would be when one of his whores would come over and feel sorry for the scrawny ass kid who was starving half to death. Back then I didn’t have a damn choice but to try and take care of myself, but now I do. Somehow, some way, I am going to get that money. My only wish is that once I have it, you will come along with me for the ride of a lifetime, Clove.”

              I stand there fighting the urge to actually commit a crime for the first time in my life and choke the hell out of him.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Trent,” I say, glaring daggers at him. “I can’t deal with this half-assed plan of yours anymore. I need to get some sleep and we will talk about this in the morning.”

“You’re right; I haven’t fully planned this out. The only thing I do know for sure is that I am not giving you up. No fucking way, not when I finally have you. I have never had any kind of beauty in my entire fucked up life, and I knew once I had a taste of you, I would not be able to let you go.”

He stands and points his finger at me.

“So. Either we figure this out together and you come away with me, or, after I get my hands on that money, and trust me I will get my hands on it, I will kill my brother. The choice is yours. Now, since you’re so adamant and I can’t trust you . . .”

He bends down and scoops his bag up off the floor, striding in my direction. I watch in horrid fascination as he pulls out a pair of handcuffs and securely snaps one of the manacles shut around my wrist.

              “What are you doing?” I half shriek as he secures the other one to his own wrist.

“I may have confessed a lot of shit to you, Clove, and I am just as ready as you are for a good night’s sleep, but I’m not a fool.”

He lifts our now joined hands.

              “This is my way of making sure you don’t decide to skip out on me while we sleep.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Lying flat on my back shackled to a loudly snoring Trent was not my idea of rest, I must say. I may as well try and come up with some sort of plan. The only thing I can think of is to somehow contact my brother and hope he can find us in time. That’s it; there is nothing else I can do. But how? How am I going to be able to get away from this psycho when he watches my every move?

If I am not able to reach my family, will James kill us both if or when he realizes his plan isn’t going to work? Of course he will; to think he won’t is foolish. Once he figures out that neither Turner nor I will help them, he will have no further use for either one of us. And if James figures out that Trent is planning on double-crossing him, God only knows what will happen.

Speaking of Trent, what about his ‘obsession’ with me, as he calls it? If I don’t go along with him willingly he will kill Turner out of pure spite, I have no doubt about it. This shit is more fucked up than I could ever have imagined.

If Trent hates his father as much as he said he does, why didn’t he just show up at our doorstep, or even Melody’s, and tell us who he was? God, all of this could have been avoided and he could have had his money and a family who would have loved him more than anything. So the question of the fucking day is, why the hell is he really doing this? These thoughts circle around and around in my mind until I finally feel myself drift off to sleep.

************

The sun is already up and shining; my eyes open to the bright light pouring through the crack of the drapes. I go to stretch and try to lift my arms when the clink of a metal chain reminds me that I am still cuffed to Trent.

I nudge him hard to wake him up.

“Good morning,” he says huskily.

Fuck him and his good morning. It’s anything but a good morning. It’s another day in hell for me.

“I have to pee. Can you uncuff me, please?”

He says nothing, but reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out the key. My wrist feels tight and numb when he drops it to my lap after unlocking the cuffs. My free hand automatically goes to rub it and to try to bring back the blood flow.

Hoisting myself out of bed, I gather my bag up off the floor and make my way into the bathroom. When I go to lock the door, I hesitate as I remember him telling me to keep it unlocked.

I spend as little time in the bathroom as possible, brushing my hair and pulling it into a ponytail, then getting dressed in my last pair of clean shorts and an oversized t-shirt. I stuff the knife back in my bag underneath my dirty clothes. I brush my teeth and stow everything back into the bag.

When I step out into the room, Trent is on the phone talking quietly. I toss my bag onto the bed and sit on the edge. My ears perk up as I hear him say we will be there later this afternoon. Where is ‘there,’ I wonder? Is it where Turner is?

The possibility of being able to see him today brightens my gloomy mood even though I have no idea what kind of state he is going to be in when I get there. The only thing that matters to me at this moment is being able to finally see him with my own eyes. So when I hear Trent finally ending his call, I stand and direct my attention to him. He slips a worn out gray t-shirt over his head and then bends down to retrieve his shoes.