Touched By You (The Touch Series) (33 page)

“Trudy.” I hate the way my name sounds on his lips. It makes me want to change it, but since it’s the only thing my parents left me, I’ll keep it. “Mmmmm, you smell yummy,” he slurs as I step away and return to the kitchen to escape his advances.

“Brad’s in the shower and should be just about done.” I remind him with unspoken words that even though Brad allows it while high, he’s very possessive while sober.

The bedroom door opens and I feel myself relax. This is probably the only time I’m thankful for Brad’s presence. He walks out in just his khaki shorts with his faded blue boxers showing. I notice he’s lost a lot of weight due to the drugs, but he refuses to change his habits. Whenever I ask, it just makes him angry. The only thing he has agreed to is not to make meth at our apartment, and I’m thankful for that. The last thing I need is for him to blow us all up.

His eyes have dark circles under them, and his dirty blond hair is dull and has grown past his ears, not in an attractive way. His arms are covered in homemade ink and the tattoos are fading. I can’t even make out most of them anymore.

After dinner is cooked I serve everyone, and although I made tea, they still opt for beer to continue getting trashed. I see them cut lines of white powder on the coffee table as I walk past to go get cleaned up to leave. I refuse to stay while Tony is here, and I’ve been trying to avoid him the past six months. He knows my tactic. I can see it in his stare, but I still have time to leave as long as Brad isn’t wasted.

I put my hair in a messy bun and pull on some old jeans and a warm sweater to help evade the frigid air that blows this time of year. I grab my jacket I bought at the Good Will and slide on my old tennis shoes. I had to double sock my feet because my left shoe has a hole in it. I don’t need frostbite to add on top of a busted lip.

As I reach for my crossover bag sitting by the front door, Brad stands up and moves Jessica from his lap. “Where you off to?” he asks while stepping forward.

“I have a paper to finish up so I need to go to library.” I turn to face him and notice Tony as he winks at me. His black eyes are sunken in, and his black hair looks greasy and dirty. He needs to shave and take a shower, but I know better than to let my disgust show. I shiver as flashbacks of the awful nights I wasn’t so fortunate in escaping surface, and I feel my heart beat pick up.

As I reach for the door to leave, Brad grabs my shoulder and squeezes it in a painful grip. “Don’t be out too late. You still need to clean this mess up.”

I just walk out the door without a reply. He knows I’ll follow the rules so I won’t get his fist in my face again. Jessica will placate both of them tonight during their drug induced orgy, and I won’t be needed. I say a prayer that I won’t have to endure this life much longer as I board the bus head to the local library.

Things are looking up, I think to myself as I walk home from school the next day. I had called Mrs. Malone from a friend’s cell phone during lunch and explained some of the situation to her. She told me they can help out with a campus apartment and child care while I attend classes with my scholarship. So even though I still have six weeks until I’m due, I accepted the scholarship. I’m so excited I practically dance home. I look at my watch and see I still have time to relax and plan my future while Brad’s at work.

I unlock the door and my heart stops as I step through. At first I think somebody broke in because of the mess, but then I see Brad sitting with his back facing me. I can tell by his rigid posture he’s in a bad mood and wonder if something happened at work. When he hears me shut the door, he stands up and turns those same cold eyes on me.

“Brad, are you o…okay?” I wonder why he’s looking at me like that, but then I see my scholarship packet in his hands and I know.

I’m visibly shaking from instant fear as I back toward the door for an escape. “You want to explain this to me?” he hisses while throwing the papers everywhere.

I swallow and take a breath as I watch them scatter. “I… I haven’t had a chance to discuss it with you yet.” I need to get out of here or calm him down. “You’re never home and when you are, we’re never alone,” I stammer, thinking of a way out of this fight as I hold on to my belly.

I see his eyes lower to where my hands are before he lifts them and stares into my dread-filled green eyes. I can tell he enjoys this power he has over me as he stalks toward me, straightening his shoulders. “Then tell me now.” He shoves me into the door, and I feel the knob jab into my left kidney and know there will be a bruise.

I must take too long to answer because the next thing I’m aware of is the wind being knocked out of my lungs as I’m slammed on the stained carpet. I hear his footsteps getting closer as his feet crunch on the broken glass, and I try to come up with a plan. I roll over so I can get up, only to be kicked in my side by his steel toe boots.

“You were going to leave me weren’t you?” He kicks again but I have my back toward the impact while I clutch my stomach.“After I took you in?”

I want to deny it, but I’m still trying to catch my breath. “When no one wanted you? I’ve busted my ass to give you a home and this is how you repay me? HUH?” I cry out when I feel the impact of another blow on my lower back then tense up waiting for another. I concentrate on my unborn son as I hold on to my stomach, thankful to feel his continuous movements. “Answer me, you selfish bitch.” Instead of the kick I’m anticipating, he yanks me up by my hair.

“I w...wasn’t going to leave y...you. I haven’t responded to the letter yet.” My lungs burn and my chest feels tight, so I take a deep breath. The tears continue to fall, and my scalp burns while he holds me in place by my hair wrapped in his fist.

“LIAR!” he screams in my face. His breath lets me know he’s been drinking. “I got a call today from a friend. Said you were on the phone with someone talking about living arrangements and class schedules.” He takes a deep breath while bending down and nuzzling my ear and whispers, “I got people watching you, Trudy, everywhere you go. I know when you get to class. I know when you take a bathroom break, and I’m always aware of who you talk to.”

He pulls back and I see hate in his eyes. I brace myself when I get a glimpse of his fist rearing back. I feel the hit and then the throbbing pain in my jaw. I’m thankful he’s drunk because I was able to pull back to avoid full impact. I concentrate on becoming numb as I keep my hands on my stomach, wanting to protect him from all the pain that I can.

“I bet that piece of shit thing in your stomach ain’t even mine. You’re probably lying about that too, aren’t you?” I taste the coppery flavor of blood in my mouth as Brad grabs me by my throat and begins to squeeze. I start struggling for air.

I can’t scream for the lady who lives across the hall to help me, so I do the only thing I can. I knee him in the balls and feel his hold loosen. I’m in survival mode but not just for myself.

“Ahhh!!!” he yells, falling over and clutching his crotch. I catch a much needed breath and run for the door. I yank it open and try to scream, but it even sounds weak to my own ears.

The next thing I’m aware of is something pulling me from behind, then I’m thrown back into the apartment. I land hard on the floor and feel a piercing pain on my right side. I clutch my stomach as Brad kicks me in the abdomen over and over. I try to roll over, but I can’t seem to do it, and I’m starting to feel lightheaded as my strength declines. My vision blurs and I see spots, but I continue to hold on to my child and pray for a miracle before everything goes black.

                 
LOST
                      UNTIL 
                           YOU

Written by

Author J.R. Grant

Coming this November

Copyright by J.R. Grant
©

This story is dedicated to all of those who have suffered a lifetime of pain.

You can overcome anything! Don’t give up hope!

Keep pressing forward!

There’s always light at the end of the tunnel.

Prologue….

Sweat slowly creeps up through the crease of my palms, as my fingers begin to shake uncontrollably.

Breathe in… Breathe out…
Breathe in… Breathe out…

I repeat to myself over and over.

Reaching onto the kitchen counter, I grab my Rite Aid rewards card and gently slide it across the top of the big tan envelope that’s self-addressed directly to me.

Carefully, I wiggle out the document that is placed inside, to view it.

Pulling out a chair from under the kitchen table, with wobbly legs, I sit down and begin reading the letter attached.

Dear Jasmine,

My name is Andrew Singleton. You may or may not remember who I am so I have attached a few pictures inside this envelope to maybe help make you aware or refresh your memory.

First, I would like to apologize for taking this long to reach out to you. I understand you are probably feeling all different sorts of emotion right now, from receiving this letter, however if you could please hear me out, I would greatly appreciate it. Way too many years have passed by and I cannot say enough how sorry I truly am.

Reaching back inside the tan envelope, I pull out the pictures that were mentioned in the letter. One by one, they come into view as my body instantly feels frozen to the kitchen chair. I fell stuck, like I can’t move, and my mouth immediately drops open as the tears gush uncontrollably from my eyes.

With sweaty but shaky hands, I try and take a couple of deep breaths before lifting my first two fingers from my left hand, placing them on the left side of my neck.

Normally I do this when I feel like my heartbeat is pounding out from inside my chest, to check my rapid pulse.

My heart rate feels over exerted and the beats feel like they’ve doubled in speed. An uneasy feeling comes up through my body, and right this second I feel anything right now but normal.

Panic fills my mind, as anxiety completely takes over body. I feel faint, like I’m going to pass out. “
Oh. My. God
”, I holler out loud before collapsing back onto the wooden chair.

Breathe in… Breathe out…
Breathe In… Breathe Out…

I repeat to myself out loud, over and over before trying to regain my composure and finish reading this letter.

I am writing to you today, hoping you would want to finally speak with me. I know everything in life has been hard for you, however if possible, I’d like for the two of us to sit down and meet.

I’ve been living in Fayetteville, North Carolina which I am now aware that is not too far from you, for the past couple of years.
I am sorry again Jasmine that I haven’t reached out sooner. All of this has been extremely hard for me as well, like it has with you, and I think it’s more than time you and I finally talk.

There are something’s that are long overdue that we need to discuss and I truly hope you decide to contact me. I hope after you read this letter, you will think about what I have asked and agree upon it. I can say I would very much appreciate it if so. I’ll be waiting for your phone call if you chose to follow through.

My telephone number is (888)555-1212

My email is:
[email protected]

Feel free to call or email me anytime.
I hope and pray you do..

Kind Regards,

Andrew Singleton

What the hell just happened? Is this real?

Reaching into my purse, I quickly pull out my phone and do the best I can to press the number two before hitting send.

Breathe in… Breathe out…
Breathe in… Breathe out…

“Hey sweetie. What’s going on?” Mom asks, sounding chipper as ever.

“Mom, where are you?” I ask, almost sounding as a plea.

“I just got to the grocery store Jas. What’s wrong?”

“Umm…” I try and speak but I feel completely frozen all over again.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I can’t move my lower body and my hands haven’t stopped shaking since that damn mail carrier made me sign for that damn envelope.

But right now, I need my mom. I can’t do this without her.

“Jasmine Fuller. What is going on? Talk to me sweetie.” She asks with a concerned yet demanding voice.

“I, um…” Closing my eyes, I allow the tears to continue to fall as I speak.

“Mom, I got a letter”, I say before choking up once more. “It’s a letter from Andrew Singleton, Mom.” I cry out through the phone losing every ounce of strength I have left.