FaCade (Deception #1) (29 page)
It’s the night of my sixteenth birthday, sweet sixteen. Everyone’s sixteenth should be memorable. Mine will be, just not for the right reasons.
Sammy’s hands are touching my skin, his breath on my neck, and his words in my ear. He’s my brother’s best friend, and our next door neighbour. He’s the same age as my brother, two years older than me, and he has always been my first and only crush. I’ve felt things for him since the first day I laid eyes on his dark, unruly hair and soul-warming blue eyes. His smile is sweet; his laugh gives me goose bumps. His eyes light up whenever I enter a room and I know he feels the same way about me. He used to call me Twinkle Toes because I’m a dancer, and as I got older, Twinkle Toes became just Twink. He’s who I feel inside me, taking my virginity. He’s loving me, caressing my skin, giving me that special first time all girls should have. He looks into my eyes, tells me how beautiful I am, how much he loves me. He is who I feel sliding his length in and out of my sacred place.
“I love you so much, you know that right? You owe me this, River.”
His words break through my daydream, Sammy’s image fades, and Danny’s takes its place. His tears drip into my neck, itching my skin; his fingers slightly pinching the skin on my cheek as he holds my face to one side. His heavy body weights me down, pinning me to my small childhood twin bed. A burning sensation and a sharp stabbing pain assaults me as he thrusts inside me. I hold back my screams, swallow them down, burying them, but I’m worried if I hold the tears in they will flow inside me, drowning me, and so I let them flow from my eyes. My pillow soaks them into its soft plump fibre; the pillow that usually offers me comfort at night will now forever hold the tears from my stolen innocence. He thrusts harder and grunts before his body relaxes and I feel more of his weight press against my small frame, making it hard for me to breath. He’s still muddy from the garden; it’s dirtied my sheets and nighty. He grips my chin and forces me to look into his dark brown eyes. “You belong to me. What I did for you and your brother, I’ll never tell anyone if you admit you belong to me and that you wanted this.”
I force down the lump in my throat and ask him why he’s crying. His eyes narrow. “Because I love you and you just gave me something beautiful, now say you belong to me.” He growls the last words, his grip tightening on my chin. “I…I...belong …to...y…you,” I stutter.
He grins and lifts from my body. There’s a burning ache between my thighs. I wait for my door to close behind him as he leaves before I pull my knees up to my chest and roll into the fetus position. I cry, broken. I cry for my brother, I cry for my father, I cry for my stolen innocence, and I cry for Sammy. I was meant for him.
Out now!
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Other titles by
Ker Dukey
Out Now
The Devil visited me three times in my life; albeit, my short life. Not in the physical sense, you must understand, but very much literally.
He was persistent, resolute and tenacious. His ruthless greed to annihilate me was utterly disturbing. I am sure if he had hierarchy, the man at the top would have dragged his arse into Hell’s prison for his unscrupulous methods.
I was just fifteen when I first became aware of what he was capable of. This initial taste of him set the playing field for how my life was to be
lived
– for want of a better word.
He mocked me, showed me mercilessly how he played the game and how he liked to cheat at said game. He ridiculed and taunted me until, six months later, he won and took something of so much importance from me that I would never be the same again.
His second visit was, in my eyes, so much more cruel and heartless. I know we’re talking about the Devil here, and yes, you have a right to say he had no heart but even then, even when I was so utterly broken, I begged to differ and hoped – no, prayed – that somewhere deep in the caverns of his black, tortured soul there was something that beat and confused his emotions once in a while.
The third visit was somewhat different than the other two. He tried, and at first succeeded to bring me to my knees once and for all, but then something happened. God finally intervened and altered Satan’s intention; he sent hope and morphed the Devil’s minion into an Angel, hoping to break and shatter the anguish and suffering. He gave the ability for me to feel pleasure in pain, order in the chaos and light in the darkness.
But in giving me a reprieve, he also gave me something that would finally and ultimately obliterate me. He gave me the capability to love, therefore giving me the ability to be destroyed.
And Satan made sure that I
was
destroyed. Cruelly, viciously and sadistically.
I am Mae Swift, and this is the story of my decimation.
Olivia Thomas is in love, pure, simple soul consuming love. Nathan Carter is her other half, her light, her passion.
After three years of being together at university; three years of being joined, of a love so intense, passionate and spirited they thought their future was safe and endless but life always finds a cruel way to interfere and they soon find their relationship can’t withstand destiny’s intrusions and obstacles.
Two decades later destiny apologises and brings them back together by sheer chance, re-igniting their intense passion, connection and love but they soon find that twenty years of life, secrets and lies creates difficulties and struggles even their bond might struggle to endure.
When an evil from Olivia’s past returns to haunt them and rip apart everything they have managed to build back up, can the lovers survive with their love and souls still intact…or their lives?
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Okay, here comes the soppy bit!
We always start with the word ‘Thanks’ at this bit – such a simple word, but never used enough. Yet sometimes, it isn’t enough either.
‘Thanks’ doesn’t seem the appropriate word for my gratitude to my children and my Mum. ‘Thanks’ isn’t appreciation enough for their relentless support, belief and encouragement. ‘Thanks’ is nowhere near adequate for the days when they feed me when I forget to eat, tackle the huge ironing pile I overlook, or when they shop to sustain my caffeine addiction when I am too engrossed in a book to visit the store. Or even the way they each take care of me, as well as each other on the days when the words swallow me.
There isn’t a word, or even a phrase, out there that can define what I want to say to them, apart from, I love you, because as simple as it is, it says everything.
And yet again, here comes that inadequate word; Thanks. But this time it is to the five special friends in my life. Vickie, Michelle, Debbie, Kelly and Nikki. When the darkness threatens to devour me, you are each there, flicking on the light that chases the shadows away. You make me laugh when I cry, you give me hope through all the impossibility and you hold me up when all I want to do is fall, but more than that, you protect me from my own demons – you keep me breathing! I love each one of you.
And finally, to a very special woman. Miss Ker Dukey. I know you will cringe and hate me for saying this, but you’re my guardian Angel, my best friend, my soul sister, and my sanity. Not a day goes by when you don’t make me smile.