Filthy 4 (Filthy #4) Read online

  “Daddy, no—”

  “You’re still lying.” The smooth leather slid out of his khaki pants with a whisper against the soft fabric.

  I sat up against my headboard, the grooves of it pressing into my back. A sigh of relief came next. I knew he would drop his belt on the floor and then his pants would follow. His thick, erect cock would spring forth and I would wrap my lips around it like always. Things would be fine. They were always fine.

  But the thud of the belt hitting the floor never came. Instead he wrapped the leather around his hand.

  “W-what are you doing?”

  He took a step toward me, popping the button on his pants.

  “Tell me the truth.”

  “The truth about what?” He couldn’t know about what I said to Rhett. He couldn’t know what I had asked him to do. He just couldn’t.

  He undid the buttons on his shirt. His hands were methodical, slow, as he undid each one. The belt was still wrapped around his right hand. The buckle clinking against itself quietly.

  It wasn’t long before he was naked, standing before me in all in his glory. But all I could see was the belt. My cheek still stung from him slapping me.

  What is he going to do now?

  “The truth about you and Rhett.” He was on top of me now pulling at my nightshirt until it was off, jerking my underwear down until, like him, I was bare and open.

  “Nothing happened with Rhett, Daddy.”

  He ran his hand up and down my face, the cool leather brushed against my skin, the buckle moving against my collarbone.

  “I heard you. Last night.” He was only inches away from my face. “I heard you beg him to fuck you.”

  “No.”

  “Yes!” he shouted. The soft rub of his hand against my temple was gone. He pressed the belt against my cheek. The buckle digging into my neck. “I fucking heard it. I heard how badly you wanted it. How you wanted him to make love to you.” His breathing was erratic. “You never wanted me to make love to you. You never begged me.”

  “Daddy, I—”

  “Just shut the fuck up.” He jerked away from me. “Turn over.”

  “But—”

  “Now.”

  My hands shook as I moved. This was bad. He’d never been angry. Not like this. Never with me.

  “That’s it.” He slapped his free hand against my ass and I winced. “It’s going to be different tonight though.” He got behind me and I could feel his hard dick against the outside of my leg. “You’re going to beg me tonight.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him what, I didn’t know. I would never know either because searing pain on my ass made me cry out. I tried to jump off the bed, but he stopped me, pressing his hand down in between my shoulders. Now I know what the belt is for.

  “You’re mine, Faye baby. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, yes, please Daddy, just don’t hit me again.”

  He chuckled. It was the first time I heard that dry laugh from him, but it wouldn’t be the last. It would become the soundtrack to the horrors that happened to me over the next year of my life. It would play over and over while he abused me. He only had to hit me with the belt two more times that night before I started begging, saying, doing anything to get him to stop. I could feel the warm trickle of my blood sliding down the back of my legs.

  But the begging didn’t matter. And my voice was hoarse, my eyes puffy, and my bottom raw and bloody before he finally stopped. Before he gave in and made love to me. But it wasn’t love, even though he claimed it was. Even though he kissed me after it was all over and told me all the ways he loved me. Even though he held me while I cried.

  I cried for the pain, in disbelief that Daddy would do this to me. But I cried too because I was glad it was over. If things could go back to the way they had been before, I could accept it, as long as I didn’t have to endure that again.

  But I was wrong. I had no idea where the next year would take me. I didn’t know that this was only the beginning. That the hatred Daddy had for me and what I had done was something that could never be mended. Because some things were always broken, even with the tiny cracks glued together, some things could never be fixed no matter how much you wanted them to be. Time would wear away at the glue that kept up the farce on the outside until the cracks were bigger and more fucked up than before.

  “And that’s what Stranger thought, that she couldn’t fix Lover, but she wanted to?”

  I blinked, George’s voice jerking me out of the memory. We were still there in his office surrounded by yellow walls. “She wanted to fix him so he wouldn’t hurt her anymore,” I said.

  “Not because she loved him?”

  I frowned. Did she? Did I? “When love is bloody like that, it’s hard to remember what love really is.”

  George typed quickly. “I like that, Faye. Very poetic.” He was silent for a moment. “But have you ever thought that maybe it wasn’t Stranger who broke Lover. That he was already broken long before she met him.”

  “I don’t know,” I said quietly. Taylor had everything together and figured out. That was something else the clarity made even more apparent. Taylor would always win. It didn’t matter what I said or did, he would prevail. It made dread churn in my belly. I would be out of here one day soon. And one day I would have to face him. Just thinking about it made the craving for a hit of cocaine come rushing to the forefront of my mind. Something to coat me in the haze I had lived in for so long. I tapped my fingers against the chair arm. They moved methodically. The short pale nails clicking against the leather. They were clean underneath, not dirty like they used to be. If anyone saw them they would think they were the hands of a woman who didn’t care much for painting her nails. Her clicking fingers could mean anything. They wouldn’t know the hands belonged to a woman who craved a bump of blow just to escape the reality of her past.

  “Will Stranger see him again?”

  “Huh?” I jerked my head up, meeting his kind eyes.

  “Will Stranger see him again, Lover? Is she still in danger because of him?”

  He asked me this same question each day. And each day I wanted to tell him the truth. That Stranger wasn’t safe from him, I wasn’t safe. “No. He’s gone.” And each day I lied.

  He nodded slowly. “You’ve done really well, Faye. That’s all for today.” He set his computer on the small table next to his chair.

  I stood as he did, because that’s what we did each day.

  He didn’t touch me. A strange new reality for me. No one touched me in here. It was a weird, yet refreshing part of my newfound clarity.

  “It won’t be long now, Faye. You’re doing great.”

  I’d been hearing similar words for about a week now and it only aided the dread. I pushed at the feeling, wanting it to go away. I brushed my hand against the thick scar on my left arm. They said it would look better as time went on, that would become less of an angry red color and blend in better, but I didn’t mind it. Not much. It reminded me that I had a choice. That if it came down to it, I could make it again.

  And next time, I would lock the door and finish the job.

  FIVE

  Four weeks later

  I was standing in front of the place that had been my home for the last four months. A mental institution for the psychotic and mentally unsound. I was leaving today, and the sense of loss that clung to my skin rivaled times I wished I could forget. When I was younger I would have been shocked when someone told me the only home I would miss at the age of nineteen would be a place like this. But now it was my bitter reality and I was sad.

  “Ah, there he is.” George spoke from beside me and I let my gaze latch onto the black SUV pulling up the drive. The courtyard was green, in spite of the cold chill in the air. The leaves yellow and gold on the high, towering trees.

  I saw Sarah first, when the car pulled to a stop. Her red hair was the color of some of the leaves that swirled around my feet. I had forgotten just how pretty she was. How could I forget that?
Her hair was a little longer now, framing her heart-shaped face. A few freckles were spattered across her nose. How had I not seen those before? When her green eyes met mine they sparkled and a smile broke across her face.

  “Faye, it’s so good to see you.” She approached me slowly, and I had the feeling she was forcing herself to approach me with caution, as if I was horse that was easily spooked, ready to slash away at myself at the simplest movement.

  I wanted to smile at her. I really did. I didn’t hate Sarah. I couldn’t hate her. I didn’t think she had a mean bone in her body, but I didn’t like her. I couldn’t like her. Because her and Rhett having sex will always be burned into my memory.

  She stopped a few feet in front of me, her arms hanging at her sides.

  “You look beautiful.” She spoke the words just as Rhett came around from the driver’s side of the car and I flushed to my roots. I knew it wasn’t true. I wasn’t pretty. I was decent looking at best. I didn’t have bags under my eyes anymore, but the clarity brought with it reality. I didn’t look like a happy nineteen-year-old girl who had her whole life ahead of her. Instead I looked as if life had worn me down until I was nothing but a recovering addict and whore.

  That’s exactly what I am.

  Rhett looked different too. He didn’t say anything, barely even looked at me, as he grabbed my suitcase and loaded it into the back of the SUV. I didn’t say anything either. But I stared at him. He was crisper than I remembered, if that was even something someone could be. His light blue dress shirt was smooth and wrinkle free, each of the pearl-colored buttons glinting in the cold November sun. His khaki pants were equally as smooth. His blond hair flawless, like a model, and his short goatee perfectly trimmed.

  “We’re going to miss you.” I glanced over at George who stood with two nurses and my doctor. I had grown to really enjoy them over the last four months.

  “You take care of yourself okay now,” a nurse named Mindy said. Her eyes glistened with tears as she stepped up and pulled me into a quick hug. The other nurse did something similar. Both George and my doctor shook my hand, squeezing it, ushering words of encouragement.

  And then I was in the car staring out of the back window at the large sprawling building I had come to call my home. The dread I’d had in my stomach since I woke up there four months ago seemed to fester and grow. It was over. I was out. I was clean. I should have been happy to ride away from this place, to close this chapter of my life. But I wasn’t. I knew where this would lead. Right back where I didn’t want to go. Back to Taylor.

  The multi-colored leaves danced along the pavement as we pulled away and I closed my eyes, unable to look at them.

  SIX

  One week later

  “Are you ready?”

  I glanced at the door of my room, and knew Sarah was waiting on the other side. I looked down at the jeans and black t-shirt I’d put on, but I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to go out into the world with her today. I had been fine this whole week confined to the apartment, to my room. And it was my room. I’d come from the hospital to find Rhett and Sarah’s guest bedroom completely redone. There was a new king-size bed inside. New sheets, a new flat screen TV hanging on the wall. A dresser full of clothes and a closet with even more. It was strange and comforting and crazily enough, it felt like home.

  I opened the door slowly. “I don’t think I want to go.”

  Sarah gave me one of her famous looks, it was the half-smile half-frown look that made her face twist in a funny way. I’d grown accustomed to it over the last week, as she had been home with me. She hadn’t gone to work at all and her presence was a constant. I would call it annoying, but I just couldn’t bring myself to feel that way. She had cooked me breakfast every morning. Cooked or ordered out for lunch, and had even forced me out into the living room to do marathons of The Office on Netflix. I acted put out, but I actually didn’t mind spending time with her. She seemed genuine in her concern and want to spend time with me. It was nice.

  “It will be fun. We need to find you something to wear tonight.”

  “But I don’t really want to go to that either.” I leaned against the doorframe.

  “Oh, come on! It will be so much fun! Rhett really wants you to go.”

  I highly doubted the truth in that statement. If Sarah’s presence was everlasting, then Rhett’s was non-existent. I’d hardly seen him all week except for a few minutes in the evening, if that, when he came home and walked from the front door to their bedroom and shut the door. He’d barely spoken to me, barely looked at me. It was disappointing. Though I don’t know what I expected. The last time I had seen him in the little yellow room at the psychiatric hospital he had seemed hurt, but concerned. He seemed to have genuinely wanted me to get better, to be better. But now he didn’t seem that way at all. He was distant, though the few times I did catch him looking at me, I didn’t see hate in his eyes anymore. Just sad curiosity and it was almost worse than the hate.

  “Everyone from his office is going to be there. This is their big party of the year, in fact it’s even bigger than any of the other parties they’ve had. One of their big clients is throwing it for them at the Grand Ballroom of the Hilton downtown as a thank you for winning their case.”

  I sighed even though a smile twerked at the corners of my lips. “I know, Sarah. You’ve told me this ten times.”

  “I know, but I think it would be good for you to get out. I even called and talked to George about it, and he thinks it would be a good idea too. Myself or Rhett will be with you the whole time. We won’t just throw you to the wolves. I promise.”

  I swallowed, panic flaring under my skin at the thought of being left alone. I hadn’t been alone, truly alone, in a long time. “Who all is going to be there?” I didn’t want to come out and say it, just ask if Taylor was going. I was afraid that would be too telling.

  “Just people from his work and some of the big clients.” She paused eying me closely. “Taylor won’t be there.”

  I flinched at the sound of his name. “Why would you tell me that?”

  She rubbed her lips together. “I know he had been supplying you with cocaine. Rhett told me.” She paused. “That was wrong of him to do, Faye. Rhett knows it and I know it. Taylor knows it too. He’s not going to come around. Rhett won’t allow it, and Taylor knows better, okay?”

  I nodded absently and tried to imagine Rhett telling Taylor not to come around. I could only imagine the rage in him and how it would fester. How it would multiply until it boiled over and he lashed out. But it had been a week, hell if I wanted to get right down to it, it had been over four months. Taylor hadn’t come barging into the hospital while I was there, nor had he tried come here since I had been at the apartment.

  And for the first time I let hope bloom inside me. Maybe Taylor had really let it go? Maybe when he saw me in the hospital that day when I ripped my wound open, he realized that he didn’t want that. That he hadn’t really loved me, that I was too damaged for him. Maybe he had moved on. I almost smiled at the thought, but I clamped my teeth together, not wanting Sarah to see.

  “Look, Faye, if you aren’t okay with this, you don’t have to go. I totally understand and I’m not trying to push you out of your comfort zone. We can stay home and marathon the next season of The Office. I’m totally good with—”

  “No,” I cut her off. “I want to go.” The words felt good, right.

  “Really?” She practically bounced with excitement. “Are you sure?”

  I couldn’t help the smile that curved my lips. I wanted to stop it, but I couldn’t. I could literally feel it. Happiness. Hope. The two emotions swirled around inside me, foreign and unfamiliar.

  Maybe this really is a new beginning?

  I stood in my bathroom staring at myself. The day had flown by in a whirlwind. The first I could remember, ever, that I actually felt carefree. Sarah had taken me to at least six different stores looking for a dress for the party tonight. I’d tried on hundreds of them, at
least that was what it felt like. It wasn’t until I’d put on this one. The tight teal-colored number that clung to me right now that we stopped looking. Small sparkling teal beads clung to the entire floor length gown and made me glow in the florescent bathroom lights. Sarah had fixed my hair with her curling iron and the dark locks fell in thick heavy curls around my shoulders. She’d done my make up too in a way she called smoky eyes with a hint of teal in the dark corners. The color made my big brown eyes pop and the dark red lipstick gave me a certain allure that I couldn’t stop staring at.

  I didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror, and for the first time the stranger staring back didn’t repulse me. She didn’t look scarred and broken, even though she truly was. She looked like a woman who was putting herself back together, who was finding herself. Who was truly becoming a woman. I liked the stranger in the mirror and I hoped I would see her more often.

  “Hey Faye, you ready?” Sarah called from outside my bedroom door. I gave the woman in the mirror once last look over, from the curls on her head to the silver shoes on her feet before shutting the light off and heading out. I stepped into the hallway only to be met with a squeal of excitement.

  “Oh my goodness the dress looks even more amazing on you now with you hair done!”

  I smiled at Sarah. She had fixed my hair and makeup earlier, before I’d gotten dressed and then went back to her room to get ready, leaving me to dress myself.

  “You look great too, Sarah.” She wore a champagne-colored dress that complimented her red hair perfectly. It was twisted up into a fancy updo and sparkling chandelier earrings hung from her ears. It was the nicest thing I’d ever seen her wear, as opposed to the bland, square-shaped outfits she had chosen before.

  “Thanks, hun.” She turned and glanced toward the bedroom she shared with Rhett. “Come on, babe!”

  Only a few seconds passed before he emerged from their room, but they seemed to drag on in utter slowness. I don’t know why, it didn’t matter. What he was wearing didn’t matter. What he thought of what I was wearing didn’t matter either. But I held my breath anyway, wondering how his suit would fit him. Wondering what he would think of the dress that clung to me like a glove and made me sparkle like a diamond.