Heal Me (Reapers Reign, #3) Page 8

  He rares back his breath hot and heavy on the back of my neck. His thrusts stinging, ripping through me and burning my core as he slams harder and faster. His sick grunts come low an animal growl that ripples over me sending a sick sleek of shame over my body. The hot streaks of my tears dry on my cheeks. I feel him quiver against me his climax coming fast as he pulls out, sending his filthy seed all over my back as he slaps the back of my ass. Grabbing a fsit full of my hair he pulls my head back tight his dirty mouth finds my ear. “Next time you answer back, I’ll knock you out and all my boys will fuck you.” I hear them both laughing as they walk out.

  All I do is lie there, crying into the dirty stained pillows. Hating what I am, hating this life and hating that they have stained the sweet memories of love that I did have swimming in my body. I’m not alone for long though. The she devil appears like a red hot fire striking me, jumping on my body taking me by surprise, beating me for being smart to her dealer, for making him look like a fool and not submitting to his needs like a good little whore. Her words hurt more than her fists, the scars on my brain from her verbal assault, they stay forever.

  I don’t even have enough time to pull my panties up before she is pulling me down the stairs to the lounge. “Now you will say sorry!” she barks at me in front of them all. “You shall dance for your fucking dinner tonight, you little whore!”

  Shame and sickness still washing over my body, I head upstairs to shower. I must have danced and cooked well tonight, I get a hot shower. Walking in, I turn the faucet to hot before walking into my room while it heats up. I grab the shampoo and conditioner that are wrapped up in an old towel from under the floorboards. Then I head to the wardrobe and pull the backboards free, I reach through and pull out my towel. I hide everything around here otherwise it disappears, and I’ll get a beating for buying things with my own money.

  Steam greets me as I head into the bathroom, stripping my dirty, ripped clothes that now has blood staining them. I sigh, another lot for the bin, story of my life. Hopping under the hot stream of water, I suck in a sharp breath, holding it as the water hits my cold broken body before spilling over the fresh bruises that sit over the old yellow ones. Looking down, I run my fingers lightly over the kaleidoscope of colors gracing my body from the many kicks, hits, punches, bites and pinches from them; they all do it.

  I wash my hair and pick the dried blood out of it, wincing as the hot water hits the opened up slit. How could such a small thing hurt so damn much? It’s a tiny slit yet it bleeds like there is no tomorrow. As I’m washing the blood away, and rinsing the shampoo from my hair, my thoughts flash back to him today. I sigh, sinking down to the shower floor, letting the hot water rain down over me, taking comfort in his memories, his smell, the storm that is building between us. I feel it, it makes no difference to him that I am me, he still seems to try to break through. I should let him. I wonder if he has the wings to give me to fly away from here, from this nightmare. Will he want to after he sees me for the true person that I am and not the shy girl who can’t talk without stuttering, or without passing out at eye contact or the slightest touch. I lose my voice and senses when he’s around.

  I fall onto my cot after my shower as the dust bugs fly up in the air around me. I watch them glide in the air... free, before I slip into a dream-filled slumber of the boy with the dragon tattoo.

  I wake to the first rays of sun cracking through my window and singling a new day and stretch out, a slight throb still in my head and my new bruises hurting. Running my fingers over my face, I notice that my eye is swollen, and I bet it has a nice deep blue bruise set around it. I frown, that’s going to look great at work today. I feel my nose, it’s bent and swollen too. A broken nose, just great.

  Heading down the hall after washing my face and dressing, I peek in and see that she’s sleeping in bed with the dirty men from last night. I clean up their mess, do the dishes, washing and run the hover over the rugs before picking up a hat from the couch. This will hide my eye until I get to work. At least maybe Red will let me do just dishes today.

  “Hello poppet.” I hear as soon as I step out the door onto the street.

  “Holy shit!” I scream out, quickly shutting the door behind me. Pulling him down the steps, I panic, sweat forming down my spine. I look back to the house as I pull him away. Shit this isn’t good if the see me with him I am dead, and she will lock me away for good and then I will have no way to make money to run to escape flee this fucked up place and be rid of her forever. “What are you doing here?” I question.

  “Walking you to work,” he says casually as, like it's an everyday event.

  “Wait....why?” I am clearly shocked by the fact that he is here in view of all to see.

  “I want to,” he shrugs carelessly as if I should know this and it should not faze me. Faze me? It has rattled me to my core is what it’s done. Fear for what he may do when he sees the marks on my face because he will ask questions that will demand answers and if any off these druggies see me with him they will head start to the 6th floor and drop info on me for a fix.

  “You can’t just come here,” I tell him honestly, worried, fear forming in my stomach.

  “Why not? It’s where you live.” He looks around. I see him flinch, like it disturbs him being here. Yes, it’s the shitty part of NYC it’s the slums the Bronx. We have burnt out cars and police tape stating that there is a crime scene do not enter. There are gun shots ringing out over the night time hours, there is always fighting and loud music kids running barefoot in the dirty streets and teenage boys hocking drugs on the comer. Its home though it’s all I have and it’s the one place I want to run so fast from.

  “I know but it's dangerous.” I scan the area up to the apartment block and the windows that hold the horrors of my home.

  “Do you think a bit of danger would faze me? Shit, poppet, look at me!” he states like it hasn’t worried him being here, but his body gave him away. I’ve become a good judge of body language being damaged and silent.

  “No, not you, to me,” I whisper out, hanging my head low. I scurry down the block away from the apartment and all the prying eyes. Before all hell breaks loose we need to be far away from here. My heart stops as he grabs my hand pulling me to a stop. Stilling, I breathe in, looking at the cracks in the pavement, counting the beats of my heart.

  “Hey, look at me!” he demands.

  Shaking my head I plead, “I have to go.” I try to shake myself free, pulling at my hand his fingers hot meeting my chilled skin link through mine as he steps into me and oulls me back into him his hand linked with mine wraps me into his body as his other hand pushes a small two cup tray into my face holding two paper cups.

  “I have your coffee, look here,” he says desperately as he spins me on the spot. He places the coffee into my hands. I keep my eyes on my hands, the hot coffee a welcome to my fingers that are icing up from the chilly fall air. He places his fingers under my chin, lifting my face up so my eyes meet his. Stunning sea green eyes with a shade of blue that pulls you in are what greets me. My heart skips a beat as my breath hitches in my chest. I see the look on his face distort as he studies mine. I know he’s seeing my scars, my damage.

  Pulling free I walk away from him and his intense glare, heading to the sanctuary of the library. I’m walking fast, but before I can make it there he pulls me to a stop.

  Gasping out as his grip pushes into the new bruise on my upper arm, he’s quickly pulling me into his lap as he sits down on the park bench. He wraps his arms around me after placing the coffees on the pavement. He pushes all the nightmares to the side and his body sucks the pain from me in one embrace he makes it bearable right now. “Timberly, are you hurt?” he states more than asks, like he knows more than I want him to.

  Shutting my eyes and breathing out the breath I was holding, I shake my head. “No, I'm fine,” my tone is clipped. I can’t handle being this close to him. His smell, his touch, all these different sensations are overwhelming, and my pa
nic and anxiety are rising fast.

  “Timberly?” He whispers, pulling me in tighter to him. His breath on the back of my neck is warm and comforting. “Breathe, listen to my heart, you know that if you pass out, I will see what you’re hiding so either you show me, or I will hold you until you pass out, your choice, poppet.”?

  Rolling my eyes and biting my bottom lip he stills his body tenses as his breathing stops and all, I feel is his heart dancing to the beat of my own, the bulge forming under his jeans pushing into me, sending tingles out over my skin not bad ones either, shock forms in me.

  I don’t want him to see me this way, hurt and scared all the time. I want to be more to him than a frightened mess. “You have to promise me you won't flip ya shit though, please. I don’t know you and I don’t know why you want to know me, but I need you to understand that my life... well, it's complicated.” Slowly I pull the hat free letting my hair fall back from my face. I look into his eyes, his face says it all; shock, anger, sadness, pain. Closing my eyes, I cry. I knew this would happen. “I'm a loser, you don’t want the hassle of having me in your life, Ghost. I can’t break these chains that hold my body here, so you need to fall away and not come here again.”

  “Let me make my own mind up, you can push, I won’t budge,” he gently raises his fingers to my face.

  I turn away from his touch, shaking, “Please, it’s o-ok-k.” He brings his lips to my swollen eye, kissing it so softly that if I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t even know that it happened. I instantly pull back as shock and anxiety wash over me. he stands with me in his arms, I feel it all then hot heavy consuming anger radiating off him dropping me on the bench he stalks off towards the apartment block, oh shoot, I have to suck up the fear and go after him, stop him what’s he going to do, running up to him I grab his arm pulling with all my might to get him to stop, he just stalks forward dragging me behind him like I weigh nothing. “Please stop please you’ll just make it worse” pleading fear lacing my voice. He stops, spins around and grabs my chin tilting my face up.

  “Look at your fucking face, Timberly.” He grabs me then by my shoulders shaking me. My head wobbles from side to side as I’m trying to look into his eyes, past the anger flaming in them and the fear sitting in mine, this won’t be good.

  “Please, I'm begging you,” my eyes flicker down to the concrete between us, “Please, Ghost don’t.”

  “Fuck that!” he spits out. “Not going to happen, poppet!” Dropping me, he stalks up into the apartment, ripping the door just about from the hinges. I just sit down next to the burnt-out car, head in hands and cry. What else is there to do? She'll kill me for this surely. I hear him yelling out to me. “What number and floor?” tears falling checking out around me they all are staring looking out their windows as my hand runs over my arm. “sixth Floor 10B.” My head falls back against the cold metal of the car I pull my knees into my chest and just watch the door to the apartment block.

  After what seems like forever, I catch sight of him, stalking out down the steps; hair a mess, top ripped, he wipes blood from his mouth, I was going to say something, but it flew from my mind as he stares at me my eyes flicked away not wanting to look into the green orbs and see just what he did and seen as he walked into the place that’s meant to be mine home. His hands find my shaking body as he leans down and picks me up scooping me around him in one fell swoop. My breath catches in my chest as pain shoots out over me the tender bruises from last night reminding me they are still very much there, and I am still the abused girl. My soul jumps as the butterflies take flight so many feelings coiled in one moment I don’t know what to do. Breathing out slowly as not to drown in his cologne and his hot touch. My mind does what it does best divert. “Wait, stop, please, you’re hurting me!” His grip loosens but he doesn’t let me go, “Put me down, what did you do?” I panic “You didn’t kill them, did you?”

  “A warning, that’s what I gave them, they are lucky they are still breathing.”

  Oh shit, oh fuck, what the hell am I going to do? “You don’t know what you have done.” I push out as my fear takes over me. I'm done I can’t handle this. The spots behind my eyes form, the dark comes in flashes and my heart races as sweat beads on my brow. Falling back, I allow the dark to wrap me in its tight hold and pull me to where I'm safe.

  Chapter Eight

  Ghost

  For fuck’s sake, has she really passed out again? I was just helping her. No one hits a woman. I don’t care who they are. Walking back through the park to the shop, I kick the door open, placing her down on the couch before making coffee. I wait for her to come around, pacing the shop floor like a caged animal, my anger not once settling.

  Sitting on the edge of explosion, the more I look at her face, the angrier I get. If I'm not fucken mistaken, there are bruises on her arms, neck and stomach. Her hoodie has risen up exposing small parts of bruised midriff flesh, along with her sleeve.

  Moving over to her, I sit on the table, pulling up her top. I see that her tiny body is littered with them, new and old, angry colors and paler ones. What the fuck is going on in the apartment for this to be happening to her? I run my fingers softly over them trying to wipe them away, anger sitting in the back of my throat like bile burning. Just like that, as fast as the darkness takes her the light comes and her eyes snap open as she jerks up, kicking her legs out and connecting her heel right on my jaw. “FUCK.” I grab it in pain.

  “Don’t touch me please, don’t dirty me anymore,” she whimpers as she gasps for air.

  Standing up, I grab her legs. “Poppet, it’s me, Ghost. You need to calm the fuck down.”

  She opens her eyes and on seeing me, her breathing settles a little, shame washing over her face, mixed with shock. “Sorry,” is all she says. That’s it, before she jumps up, running from my store and down the street, not even glancing at Red’s.

  “FUCK, FUCK!” What is up with this woman? Grabbing my jacket and keys, I fucking run after her, running is not what I like to do, but her? Well I would like to do, issues and all.

  Timberly

  No looking back, no thinking, just running, run from him, from there from this. How can this guy just turn my life upside down and not blink an eye? I don’t get it, I sure as hell don’t understand it. He doesn’t know me, he doesn’t know my life, my misery, the bad things, the kicks to the guts, the way this hurt, not being able to breathe, and then boom, he goes and makes it worse by being all caveman-like. Running in there and causing more pain, its wrath will be so bad by the time I get home. The apartment will be on fire with their anger by the time I get there, and there will be no one to hear my screams as they attack me yet another night, my soul, my body, sacrificed to feed their anger, pleasure, their needs and pay her debts.

  Inside I'm screaming like a siren pleading, screaming to just let me be more than this, but no one’s listening. My out, it's coming, it has to be. I thought it was him, but he has caused a storm that I'm no way near strong enough to handle. I have to walk in it and hope that it doesn’t shatter me beyond repair.

  Finally stopping at the lake, I sit down on the cool grass that’s still damp with the night's dew, trying to catch my breath. Looking out. I’m thinking how hard it would be to jump in there and just sink? Could I? Could I escape this mayhem that way? I wonder if my body would allow me to hold my breath long enough to drown.

  Falling onto my back, looking up at the blue sky I watch the clouds dance together with the sun. What I wouldn’t give to be that high up and untouchable. I love the little light spots that form in my eyes from looking at the sun. It blurs the reality of the life that’s so sad. Blinking them back, I’m surprised to see him standing over me hovering, looking deep into my soul. His eyes are pained, his perfect face his hurt with lines of anger, worry and concern. A small smile forms on his lips showing a dimple to the side of his cheek, his hair falling down over his eye. He’s an angel, a dark angel, maybe even my saving grace, I'm unsure. My eyes watering, I blink a few times.
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br />   “Poppet?” he says, his voice is slick and pure. Shutting my eyes, I allow the sun and his words wash over me. “Poppet please, I'm sorry but...”

  Cutting him off, I snap, “but what? hey, but what?” cold and clipped it flows out I'm shocked at myself, but I'm hurt, anger I don’t know if he would ever understand. I feel more words wash over me then.

  “Talk to me, tell me,” he says, sadness lacing his tone.

  “Tell you what?” I snap out not wanting to do this, not knowing how.

  “It all, I need to know,” he states like he really would like to know.

  “You don’t, you won’t, and I can’t,” I tell him.

  “Why?” he asks so persistent.

  “I'm afraid that you will hate me, for the sins, the dirt, the life, the tears and the pain you just won’t get.” It all just flows out of my mouth before I know I’ve even said it.