couldn’t keep it inside any longer. “So when he came to me two days ago, I fought.” A tear slipped down my cheek, but I didn’t nothing to move it. “He wanted me to fight. I realize that now. But at the time, I couldn’t stop it. I wanted to feel something. I wanted to fight for myself.”
A sob bubbled up and I didn’t stop it. I let it out, not willing to hold everything in any longer.
“He raped me.” I swallowed. “He raped me in my own home and didn’t give a single fuck.”
“Who?” Haven asked, her voice breaking on the word.
I blinked, looking her square in the eyes as I said, “My brother.”
The atmosphere plummeted, the room swirling, yet inside I was rejoicing. I’d finally told someone. I’d finally confessed what I’d been going through.
“I’ll kill him,” Rush ground out, his anger evident. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him with my bare hands.”
“Rush,” Haven whipped out. “Stop.” She shook her head. “Not here. Not right now.”
“I need to go cool off,” he said, his face turning red. “I’ll be back in ten.”
We both listened as he padded out of her apartment and clicked the door shut behind him. And then it was just me and her. Haven and I.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I ignored you.” She placed her hands on either side of my face, her lips centimeters from mine. “I’ll never do that again. I promise.”
“Promise?” I asked, needing the confirmation again.
“I promise.”
She leaned her forehead against mine, not letting go of my face as she did. “From now on, it’s me and you against the world.”
“Me and you.”
“Yeah, T. Me and you. No one will hurt you again.” She paused. “Ever.
The wound that had been sliced open the first time Dale had come into my room started to close, and I knew with Haven at my side, I’d be able to heal almost all of the way.
“I think I love you,” I whispered.
She placed her lips against mine, so gently I could barely feel them. “I think I love you, too.”
Rush’s Story
Rush’s story is coming really soon and will be part of the OUTLAWS anthology! You can pre-order here now!
About A. A. Davies
A. A. Davies is the darker, alter ego of Abigail Davies.
Abigail Davies grew up with a passion for words, storytelling, maths, and anything pink. Dreaming up characters—quite literally—and talking to them out loud is a daily occurrence for her. She finds it fascinating how a whole world can be built with words alone, and how everyone reads and interprets a story differently.
Now following her dreams of writing, Abigail has found the passion that she always knew was there.
Sign up for Abigail’s newsletter here
Other Books by A. A. Davies
Verboten (Inferno World Novella)
Coquette (Carnaval des Ténèbres Series)
Easton Family Saga (Abigail Davies)
Full Bloom
Jason Hes
Prologue
Seedlings
A middle-aged woman with a copper eye gets out of a Phantom parked along the sidewalk as the gathering nimbus clouds from earlier finally burst. She's alone on the street, save a scrawny house cat sitting on a rusted gate. Its coat stiffens and spikes against the fat droplets falling from the sky. The cat reluctantly slinks into the open window of a neighboring apartment building, glaring at the woman before disappearing. The woman, seemingly unaffected by the heavy downpour, takes her time scanning the street for any other signs of life. To say she's in a rough part of town would be an understatement. It's so close to the projects she can almost smell the stench of poverty that hangs thick in the air. Her stomach would roil at the mere sight of the neighborhood but it has a certain charm to it. A rusted bicycle left abandoned under a street lamp. The sounds of a couple yelling at one another muffled by the rainstorm. A rat, further down the street, feasts on what's left of the twisted body of a pigeon. A baby, no doubt filthy and ill, cries out from somewhere deep within the wet night, only to be ignored by its whoring mother. Yes, there's a certain beauty to be found in even the most maddening of environments, she thinks as she makes her way to the decrepit building in front of her. As she steps through the rickety door, soaked to the bone, lightening streaks along the sky. The street lamp flickers spastically and bursts. The baby suddenly goes quiet.
Inside the Phantom, the woman’s bodyguard casts a nervous glance at the glistening street littered with swollen garbage bags and