Page 45 of Vow of Revenge
I swallowed back the divine memory. “Yip!” My spine tingled.
We giggled under the feather duvet, like we used to do as kids when we talked about kissing boys.
“Oh my god, Freya, that guy is so good for you sexually. He seems to bring out your little devil.” Her gleeful tone dropped. “Just be careful, Brett told me Kaleb likes to reel the women in and promise them a future. It’s all bullshit. He enjoys leading them on and then breaking their hearts. Apparently, the guy prides himself on it. Some weird vengeance thing. Use and abuse him for sex, Freebie, but whatever you do, don’t fall for him.” Her sleepy voice trailed off.
My heart took a nosedive straight into my stomach. “I wasn’t planning to see him again. Period. I know he’s a player. I just wanted to suck him off and rule it off the list.”
“As long as you know what he’s like. If he thinks he can lure you in, then he will.”
I couldn’t tell her that I was utterly enthralled by the idea of fucking him again, that I wanted to jump his bones repeatedly. I quietly berated myself for falling into his web of seduction, but then again, wasn’t I the one who was in control. Didn’t he give in to me as much as I gave in to him?
16 years ago
Ilove sitting in his vintage car with its creamy leather seats and oversized steering wheel. It makes me feel like a movie star who could drive away and never look back. It’s such a shame to have a beautiful car locked away in storage for a greedy man to marvel over once in a blue moon. I’m glad in a way because I can come in here and hide.
Yesterday, I met his son again. He’s such a handsome young boy with striking features, unlike his father. He has the most pretty blue eyes, like curious gemstones. They must be his mother’s because his father’s are as cold as his dead soul.
The boy asked me if I was hurt. He saw the bruises on my arms. I felt saddened that he could see my pain yet not recognise that his father was the one who inflicted it. I was glad he sent his son away to boarding school. I couldn’t stomach the thought of him being a witness to the horror show I lived in.
He found me sitting in this very spot and gave me an ice pack. He was concerned - so innocent and gentle. I can only pray he remains true to his heart and doesn’t welcome the devil inside.
He told me a silly schoolboy joke which made me giggle a little. Under my sincere smile, I was utterly miserable because I longed to hear my own flesh and blood, my daughter’s little voice. That’s if she still laughed because I never showed up when I said I would. She never knew that I watched her sleep in the dead of night. That I crept out when the whole house was in darkness and he’d finally finished with me.
I saw the boy playing in the corridor this evening, so I gave him some fruit cake from the larder. His smile is infectious. Luckily, he returns to school in the morning. I may hate the man who keeps me captive with threats of killing my own daughter if I disappear, but I’m thankful to the one piece of humanity he has left for sparing his son.
Damien warned me to be on my best behaviour tomorrow. I feel sick at the prospect of a new day. The fear of their actions is beyond comprehensible. The VC members will return - I have to entertain Mr. B this time, a man I have yet to meet. Mr. A was a fucking bastard, yet Mr. C was courteous, if not a little over enthusiastic by the idea of taking me with no consequences. If I do what is asked, I get paid.
If you ever read these ramblings of a useless mother, then you will know that I did my best for my baby girl, even if I was never there.
Present day
Isaw her the minute I sat down at my desk. Lynn fucking Taylor was on the prowl and strutting my way in spiky red heels.
“Well, well, well. Look what just slithered in,” she hissed. Her pointy nose creased, and dark lips pouted. Long skinny arms wrapped her chest as she glared down at me from her stiletto heights. Whatever did Kaleb see in this witch?
“Good morning, Lynn,” I replied, averting her gaze and fiddling with the stack of pages on my desk.
“I read your so-called finished piece on the Irish fashion bloggers. It was, how can I put it – shit!” She exhaled a puff of air down her nose. “The deadline is noon. Get it rewritten. I want it waiting in my mailbox by 11:59. Do you hear me?” Her hands snaked to her hips.
“Bite me,” I muttered under my breath.
“What did you say?”
“I said ‘righty’ as in ‘rightio’.” I feigned interest.
“Well then, get to it.” She clicked her fingers and strode off.
If ever I wanted to punch someone in the face, it was now. I’d worked all weekend on that article, and I knew it was good. There was no way I would rewrite it. Even if I did, it would still have all the same content and quotes. Firing up my monitor, I gasped, slapping my hand over my mouth to stop the sharp inhalation outing my surprise. There was an unopened email from Kaleb, sent at exactly 9:00 a.m.
Email: Kaleb De Courcy
Heading: Do you need me to deal with her?
Little Mouse,
Let me know if I can assist in any way with taming the bitch on your back. I tend to have abilities in that department.
Kaleb
