A Modern Love Story (8 page)

“Where are you going?”

Robbie seized when she heard Frank’s voice behind her, and then froze. Julia was in the house somewhere. Where was she?

“You’re so tense, Robbie.” He gripped her shoulders, kneaded them with his thumbs. “You need to loosen up.” His hands snaked up and down her arms as he moved closer, pressing his hard groin against her. “I can loosen you up…if you let me.”

Robbie started to tremble, afraid to move, afraid to breathe. It would pass, she told herself. He’d done this before, this exact thing—rubbing her shoulders, her arms, and then rubbing himself against her—and then he’d back off. He always backed off.

“Don’t be afraid. I can be gentle.” His alcohol-tainted breath washed over her as he brushed her hair to the side. He wasn’t backing off.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

“Don’t what?” He held her hips as he pressed harder, groaning in her ear. “Why do you tease me, Robbie?”

“I… I don’t. I didn’t.”

“You do.” One hand moved up across her belly as he thrust against her again. “You see what you do to me. Do you feel it?” He grabbed her breast, squeezed it. “This is your fault. You did this to me. Always teasing me, taunting me.”

“No. No.” Her mind rejected what he was saying as it simultaneously raced to figure it out. Had she teased him? Taunted him? This wasn’t her fault. Was it?

“Mmm. And, still, you tempt me. Saying
no
when I know you mean
yes
. Tonight, Robbie. After Julia goes to bed, I’ll show you what you do to me. How you make me feel.” He began to grind his hips. “And you’ll like it. You’ll beg for it.”

“No!” She jerked out of his grip, darted through the house and into the night.

She ran for nearly six blocks straight before she slowed to a walk. Sheer terror kept her moving, just as the paralyzing fear kept her from crying. She had to think. What could she do? What
should
she do? First things first, she had to get back home before Julia went to bed. Barricade her door, that was what she would do. But not now. She couldn’t go back now. She took a deep breath and let it out, and backtracked towards her original destination.

She could hear the heavy bass thundering from the basement of the house when she knocked.

“Hi, Robbie! How are you doing?”

She hoped the terror didn’t still show on her face. “Hi, Mrs. Powell.”

“Mrs. Powell? Now, I’ve told you to call me Joan. You’re practically family around here.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Joan chuckled as she gestured towards the basement. “They’re all downstairs. Just follow the racket.”

Robbie eased down into the throng of teenagers, dodging wild dancers and hand-talkers as she picked her way through the crowd. She knew where to find Luc. He’d be in the back room, hanging out with friends, and as far away from the stereo as possible.

“Squirt! You made it.” Luc pointed to the cooler against the wall. “Soda’s in there.”

“I’m good.” She sat in the chair next to him, hands pinched between her knees and back ramrod straight.

“We’re thinking of starting a game of poker. You in?”

She shook her head. “I’ll just watch.”

“Hey, I’ll be right back.” Luc got up and strode towards the bathroom.

Robbie watched him the entire way—it wasn’t hard since he towered over every other kid his age, and some adults. She focused on his easy-going nature as he stopped to talk to friends, and his don’t-mess-with-me nature when people he didn’t care for wanted to chat. He was strong and commanding. She remembered envying that when she first met him. She still did.

By the time he made his way back, nearly twenty minutes had passed. “Sorry it took so long. Crowded around here.”

“It’s fine.”

“Hey, Robbie!” Conrad shouldered his way into the room. “Luc didn’t tell me you got here.”

“Hey, Conrad. How’s it going?” She glanced from his hazel eyes to her watch, and back again.

He sat next to her, and leaned in. “Can I ask you something?”

“What’s that?”

“What is
Robbie
short for?”

“Nothing. It’s just Robbie.”

“Your parents gave you a dude’s name?” He laughed good-naturedly, and patted her leg. Conrad didn’t notice her flinch, but Luc did. “Were your parents high or something?”

She tried to stay relaxed. “Actually, they probably were.”

“Seriously? Man, your parents sound so cool!”

“Conrad,” Luc snapped. “Beat it.”

“But—”

“Beat it. I
gotta
talk to Robbie about something.”

“Aww, man, you’re breaking my heart.” He shot Robbie a smile. “See you around, gorgeous.” Conrad gestured at the other stragglers in the room. “Come on, everyone. Luc and Robbie want to be alone. Behave kids.” He laughed and closed the door behind them.

Robbie took one look at Luc and pushed to her feet. “Look. I
gotta
get back. I’ll talk to you later.”

He snagged her wrist, tugged her back down. “Not so fast. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

“Look at me.”

“What?”

“I said, look at me.” She
slid
her gaze to him and his dark eyes held her. “What happened? And don’t say
nothing
because that’s just gonna piss me off.”

She couldn’t speak. Not without losing it. Not without crying.

“Tell me, Rob. I know something’s up. You’ve been acting strange ever since the L’s moved away. I thought that was it, but…” He shook his head. “It’s more than that. You’ve changed. You never smile, you never dress up all
fuc
— all girlie anymore. Hell, you’re wearing a long-sleeved shirt in eighty degree weather.”

She averted her eyes when she saw his go wide.

“Are they fucking beating on you?!” He grabbed her arm and shoved her sleeve up.

“No.” She jerked her arm back.

“What? What are they doing to you?” She was certain he felt the instinctive flinch when he grabbed her shoulders, and then turned her to face him. “Robbie. You better fucking tell me right now. I know how this shit goes. Tell me!”

Tears welled up, spilled over. “I have to get home, Luc. Please. Just let me go home.”

“Why? Why do you have to get home? Why does it have to be now?”

She looked at him then, and whispered, “I have to get home before Julia goes to bed.”

“Tell me why.”

“It’s the only way to get to my room without… I have to get to my room. I have to barricade the door. Otherwise, he… He’ll…”

“Sonofabitch!” His fingers dug into her arms. “Did he fucking touch you?!”

“
Ow
. Luc, my arm.” Luc was shaking so hard that for a half-second Robbie wasn’t even sure he’d be able to consciously gain enough control to release her. But he did.

His hands fisted in his lap and his voice turned flat and dangerous, his eyes sparking fury. “You didn’t answer me.”

“He’s grabbed me. Rubbed against me. He hasn’t… He didn’t…” The tears streamed freely. “Not yet. But he wants to. He says he’s going to.”

Luc shot to his feet in a blur. “That motherfucker is dead!”

“God, Luc! No!” She grabbed his arm. “You can’t. You can’t say anything! Please, promise me!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Robbie! Why the fuck not?! And why didn’t you tell me?! You should have fucking told me!”

“Because they’ll take me away!” she screamed. “They’ll yank me out of there and put me somewhere else!”

“And they
should
!”

Her hands dropped to her side and she stared up at him, stricken and defeated.

His face fell as he looked at her, and then gently took her hands in his. “What am I missing Robbie? Explain it to me.”

“There’s no other place to go. They’ll take me away from you. I can’t lose you too.”

With one quick tug, Robbie found herself wrapped in Luc’s arms. “Oh, baby,” he murmured into her hair. “You won’t lose me. We’re family.” He stroked her hair, her back. “We’ll figure something out.”

*****

A week later, Luc stepped up to Frank Wenham’s front door and rang the doorbell. He was home. And Luc knew the motherfucker was home because he had followed him.

The door swung open.

“Lucian?” The man studied him before leaning against the doorframe. “Something I can do for you?”

It took all of Luc’s willpower not to beat the sonofabitch to a bloody pulp right then and there. Luc was taller, and certainly stronger. He could take him. “I’ll make this quick. Before your wife gets home.”

“You’ll make
what
quick?”

Luc handed him an envelope.

“What’s this?” Frank spilled the pictures into his palm, and Luc had the satisfaction of seeing all the color drain from his face. Yes, cracking open the fucker’s skull would have been even more satisfying, but this would have to do.

“It’s amazing what a guy can get with a little fucking disposable camera. It takes pretty damn good pictures too, huh?”

Hot anger flared in Frank’s eyes. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“You know damn well. You even look at Robbie again, and your wife, your business, and your clients all get copies.”

“You can’t threaten me!”

Luc stepped up, got in his face. “The fuck I can’t. I’ve been following you for a week straight. I know where you’ve been, and who you talk to. Shit, I could call Maureen right now, or the cops, and get Robbie yanked out if I had a mind to—blow all this bullshit right out into the open.”

“So why don’t you?”

“Is that what you want? I’ve got no problem with that. Enjoy getting ass-fucked in prison.” Luc turned to go when Frank grabbed his arm.

“Wait.” He snatched his hand back when he caught Luc’s murderous glare. “Robbie’s just my foster kid. Nothing more.”

“You don’t look at her, touch her, or anything.”

Frank looked down that the pictures still gripped in his hand. “Agreed.”

“You do, and she’ll tell me.”

“There’s no problem here.”

“Yeah. See that there isn’t.” Luc gave him a good shove. “I’m keeping my fucking eye on you.”

Chapter 4

Eighteen years old

Robbie sat on the edge of her bed, her leg bouncing up and down.

“Come on, come on,” she muttered, glancing at her watch. Same time. Ugh! Just two more minutes until freedom.

She shifted and pulled the strap of her duffle bag over her shoulder. The bat Luc had given her almost two years ago was firmly in her grip. She snickered as she looked down on it, glad she could find the situation even slightly amusing.

It wasn’t a metal bat, but a wooden one because it was solid, packed more of a punch. He worked with her on stance and posture to ensure she could get every inch of her muscles working behind her swing. He made sure Frank wouldn’t get off easy if he made the grand mistake of finding his way into Robbie’s room. But the bat, in the end, was unnecessary. Frank had never come near her again.