Pretty Little Things
Page 5

“What’s this about?” I asked as she put her cheek on top of her knees, her face toward me.
She shrugged and reached for the popcorn. I pulled the bowl away as she glared at me, reaching farther as she stretched over me before pulling her arm back.
“I asked you a question.”
Her eyes locked on mine, challenging me before she reached again.
“Fine. Take it.” I set the bowl on my lap, and she fell back into her seat and reached her hand into the bowl to grab a handful. I relaxed, stretching out my legs and tucking my hand behind my head. The movie began, and the warmth of the alcohol was settling deep in my stomach and spreading throughout my body, but it was doing nothing to numb the thoughts that crept to the forefront of my mind. They were always present, haunting.
“It’s about this psychic in a small town, and she starts getting visions about a girl who’s missing.”
I smirked; even as defiant as she was, she still always listened to me one way or another. My c**k twitched in response to her obedience.
“Sounds boring. I may need to find other ways to entertain myself.” I felt her gaze cut to me. I sighed as the opening of the movie seemed to drag on, but Annie was absolutely entranced and lost in the unraveling mystery. I pulled out my cell phone and began to scroll through the contacts, stopping on Leslie. I clicked the call button and stared off at the television as it rang, waiting for her to answer.
“Hello?” she answered with a thick Southern drawl.
“It’s been a while. Have you forgotten about me?” I asked as I pictured her bent over my desk as I took her from behind, her long, honey-colored ponytail wrapped around my fist.
“Like that’s possible. I’m in Texas.”
“That’s a shame. I was looking for some company.”
Annie groaned and turned up the volume on the television as her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t look my way.
“I’ll be back early next week. I could drop by.” There was a hopeful eagerness in her voice. None of these girls gave me the thrill of the chase, but at least they didn’t mind when I got a little too rough.
“I’ll already have replaced you by then, sweetheart,” I joked, and Annie glared at me, causing me to laugh. I pushed up from the couch and walked into the hallway to get away from her.
“That’s not funny,” Leslie shot back as I paced the floor, running my hand over my hair. She began to ramble on about visiting family and how her uncle was ill and not expected to make it. I didn’t give a f**k about her problems, her hopes, or her dreams. She served a purpose, and when she didn’t satisfy that urge any longer, she would be gone.
There was only one constant in my life, and that was Annabel. Her appearance was similar, but she couldn’t be more different from those girls. Even as she tried to prove otherwise, she was still the innocent one.
I plopped down on the couch next to her, our sides grazing each other as I rolled my eyes and focused on the movie. She adjusted herself like she was going to move away, but she stayed by my side.
I tried to shelter her from it as much as I could, but after the shower incident, it was all I could think about, weaving its way through my subconscious.
She was still clutching her knees to her chest, and I reached to the end of the couch and grabbed the red woven throw and laid it over her. She gave me a sideways glance but pulled it over her as she put her legs down.
“You can be pretty nice sometimes when you want to be,” she said, and I laughed, running my hand over my hair.
“The problem is I don’t want to be.” I studied her profile as she reacted to my words, her pink lips parting slightly and her chest rising a little farther and faster. That brought my gaze lower, and I turned to look at the television, closing my eyes as I pushed the thoughts from my mind.
The fog that had taken up permanent residence in my conscience as a child was now back in place, blinding me from the consequences of my actions. We always had a choice in life. I chose to give in to the darker side of my soul. The side that gained satisfaction from control. The side that was on the brink of starvation, waiting, biding its time until I was able to feed it again. It craved the wrong.
I did it all for the greater good, but now I wasn’t sure what that was and if I could really justify it as anything other than pure evil.
“She isn’t like the others.” The muscles ticked over my jaw as I clenched and unclenched my fists.
“What do you mean? Of course she is.” Taylor glanced back at me over his shoulder before continuing to type away at his next sermon on his laptop.
“She’s not.” I slammed my open palms down on the edge of his desk, bent over and glaring. This was wrong. This was all wrong from everything he had taught me. His eyes met mine with a warning glare.
Physically Taylor was no match for me, but mentally he had whittled me down to the same depraved, heartless creature he was. I looked up to him for guidance, and he fed my hunger—a hunger that he had helped create. His fingers stopped moving against the keyboard, and he eyed me intently.
“She scares you?” he asked rhetorically, and I stood, shaking my head as I paced the floor, my hands fisted in my hair.
“Nothing scares me.” I glared over at him, but he simply sighed and relaxed back in his seat, ignoring my thinly veiled threat.
“Perhaps I chose the wrong son,” he mused, and I felt the familiar boiling rage begin to simmer inside the pit of my stomach. Taylor liked to pit the boys of the church against each other. He got a sick thrill from watching us commit unspeakable acts to compete for his affection. “You don’t find her attractive, is that it?” He pulled off his brown-rimmed glasses and tossed them on the desk in front of him.
“She’s a good person. She doesn’t deserve—”
He cut me off as he stood, his face shacking in anger and turning red. “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God!” His words echoed in the small space. “Is it my fault that she has deceived you?”
“No, sir,” I responded without hesitation.
“Then find out what her transgressions are. That is your job. If you ever question my decisions again, you will be on the street.” He sat back in his seat, his hand smoothing over his dark, greasy hair as he expelled a heavy breath. “Don’t let her fool you, son. That is the devil working.”
I nodded and pulled open his office door, propelling myself into the cool night air. I bent over, my hands on my knees as I struggled to gain control over myself. This girl was playing me, toying with me.
I headed across the dark field with a mission. I was going to find out what it was that Annabel was hiding.
My eyes opened at the familiar sound of heavy breathing. They fell first to the television, where a woman stood wearing only panties, being pursued by a man. Next I took note of Annie’s heavy breaths as she focused intently on the sexual encounter unfolding on the screen. She hadn’t yet noticed that my eyes had opened, and she did nothing to hide her curiosity.
I watched with her, scrutinizing her response to force and violence as she slowly raised a few kernels of popcorn to her mouth. But her reaction wasn’t one of repulsion and fear—it was fascination. The idea of her accepting and not batting an eye at the kind of things that made me hard scared me and thrilled me at the same time. I knew whatever she had learned about relationships was knowledge gained from seeing me satisfy the darker side of my soul. Even after we escaped from Taylor, she never really had a fighting chance.
I told myself protecting Annabel was the right thing to do, but it was also penance for the person I was. I needed her good to balance my bad, and she needed me to keep her safe. I was all she had left. Connor and Grace could never understand. Annabel herself had barely skimmed the surface of what she was involved in, and I wanted to keep her in the dark for as long as possible.
“What are your plans for the day, little one?” I asked, and she startled.
“I have a report I need to finish on the adverse effects of corporal punishment used on children.” I laughed and shook my head, my eyes going back to the television. “Yeah, so that will be fun. But if Connor and Grace aren’t back, I can always skip school tomorrow.”
“Not a chance.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
I looked over at her, her eyebrow raised in challenge.
“You had a private tutor.”
“I had antisocial tendencies and a habit of challenging authority.” I laughed as the credits rolled on the screen in front of us.
“I don’t doubt that.”
We fell silent as we both sat, unmoving. “So this guy…” I let my voice trail off.
“He’s just a guy.” She shrugged as she pulled on a loose thread on the blanket.
“Is he a good guy?”
“Are you?” she shot back.
“That’s a loaded question.” I stood up, stretching, and when I looked down at her, her smile fell. “What?”
“Did that hurt?”
I sighed as I thought of the marks that covered my back. “Don’t.” I walked over to the shelves of movies, scanning the titles. I didn’t know if it bothered me more that she was asking about them or that she looked upset over my injuries. I was no one for her to feel sorry for. While I’d received them for not doing what I was told, I’d earned them by following through with the orders. But answering that question perplexed me. If you take a child and never show him affection, any attention received is positive in his eyes. Coupling that with the twisted abusive behavior and dominance that was instilled in me so young, I learned to derive gratification from receiving pain as well as giving. It was a release, a way to atone for my sins.
She stood and walked up to my side. My scars should have been a warning to not get close to someone like me, but Annabel saw my dominant side as a reflection of my overprotective nature toward her. My eyes closed as her hand ran softly over my back. Her featherlight touch on my own wounds more painful than when I had received them.
“Annabel, stop,” I bit out, but she continued on, her fingers trailing over the raised welts. My body stiffened, not wanting someone to give me affection I didn’t deserve. It turned my stomach, and for once I was completely thrown off guard. So I did what I knew best, and I instilled fear in her.
“I said f**king stop,” I seethed as I grabbed her by her shoulders and slammed her small body against the movies, causing the shelves to shake. Her green eyes were wide with fright, and now I was the one desperate to touch. Her fear was palpable, and while I knew I was pushing away the one person who even remotely began to understand me, it was for her own good. She didn’t have to understand as long as she listened. But listening to me was something Annabel rarely did anymore. She’d become too comfortable in my presence, and now she ignored the alarms that would set a normal person on edge. That was what terrified me about her seeing this guy. I had no idea what kind of person he was, but I knew Annie wouldn’t be as cautious as she should be.
“Annabel…” I rested my forehead against the case, my body hovering over hers, caging her in with my arms on her shoulders. Her name came out like a plea for help.
“I-I’m sorry.”
I lifted my head and looked at her. The fear-induced stutter let me know I had succeeded in making her understand.
I took a step back from her, running my hand along my jaw before turning and leaving the room, desperate to put distance between us.
Chapter 5 - Annabel
I was left in shock. Was my touch that repulsive to him? I quietly climbed the stairs, glancing over at Colin’s door, which was closed, music blaring from inside. I entered my room, grabbing my laptop and sitting down on my bed to work on my report.
The topic of physical punishment to children was heavy, but anything that would take my mind off my life was a welcome reprieve. I began typing and forced myself not to look up from the screen when Colin left his room, slamming his door and hurrying down the steps. The front door slammed next, and I sighed as I jumped from the jarring sound, glancing up to notice he hadn’t locked his door.
I chewed my lip and entered another query into the search engine, my finger tapping the back key as I typed out “Descendants of God.” The screen immediately flooded with links, and I clicked the top one, a news story with the first picture of a girl who was beaten until she was unrecognizable. I closed the window and focused on the task at hand.
My report grew from a few hundred words to several thousand, and my stomach rumbled from hunger. I glanced out of my doorway, noting that Colin still hadn’t returned. Where the hell could he have gone in such a hurry?
I saved my paper and set my laptop on my bed, thankful that at least the house was empty. I left my room, pausing to look at his door, but I hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen.
I grabbed a dish of Grace’s macaroni salad and set it on the counter while I grabbed a fork, eating directly from the container. Tears stung my eyes, and my throat grew thick with sadness as I recalled my mother’s macaroni salad that she always made for any event or holiday. We didn’t have any extra, but we always had what we needed and helped others as much as we could. She was a good and decent woman who would have done anything for anyone.
I replaced the plastic lid and stuck it back in the fridge, my hunger squelched. I climbed the stairs, stopping to look back at the front door before taking a slow step toward Colin’s room. I paused, my heart racing as if he would burst through the door at any second. When the house remained silent, I grabbed the handle and turned, my eyes closed in a silent prayer that I wouldn’t get caught. The door opened, and I shoved it, staring at his clinical, pristine room. His walls were white and the bed a deep blue that matched his curtains. I tiptoed across the beige carpet and pulled open the heavy wooden nightstand drawer. Inside were a notepad and pen, an empty prescription bottle, an open box of condoms, and a broken watch. I closed it and turned around, glancing at the other furniture. The antique dry sink held several glass decanters and tumbler glasses.