Bella's Choice (14 page)

When she got to her locker, she heard her phone ring. Grabbing her bag, she rummaged around in it until she found her cell. The message she read left her breathless.

Aldi, if you only knew how much I needed you right now.
Anabella released a soft groan of pure frustration. She wished she could go home, because these three months were turning into one big nightmare. And last night had been the final straw.

She’d never thought that she’d be one to fall into a trap, but she had. She walked right into the trap set up by Charles and Thomas, and she literally walked out
with bruises on her body. Anabella couldn’t believe his audacity in telling her―after what happened―that she was his. It wasn’t going to happen.

The first two months had been fine. Charles would always ask her if she’d like to join him and go clubbing, or
accompany him to parties. Of course, as he had kept true to his word, she had gone. A few of his friends always joined them, especially Thomas, whom she had liked at first. Moreover, for some reason, she always ended up sandwiched between the two; either at a table, or on the dance floor. Something she found odd, but never said anything about, or even queried. However, as far as the last two times were concerned, they had become more daring, and at one point she had had no choice but to ask them to back off. Up until then, they’d given her enough breathing room and the friendship had blossomed, that was, until last night.

In the pool they were great competitors, and out of it they fooled around. She always enjoyed their lively conversations and light banter with the rest of the participants, which allowed Anabella to relax with her peers.

As per usual, they invited her out again the previous night. They’d gone to a club she wasn’t at all familiar with, one very different from the previous clubs she’d attended with them; louder―and evidently―with absolutely no regard for moral rules. She watched young people letting go of all their inhibitions, not at all ashamed of their behavior.

From the start, she’d been nervous.

Drinks flowed as they introduced Anabella to many of their friends, their faces blurred in the flashing lights. The music was so loud that conversation was impossible, not that anyone was interested in talking.

As the night progressed, the party became more energetic. She knew she was inebriated, and one only had to look at the amount of empty glasses that stood before her. Dancing between Thomas and Charles again, they were squished together due to the throng of dancers all around them, so she’d had no choice but to allow the proximity. Their hands made themselves at home all over her body, and when she wanted to say something, all they did was shrug, continuing to move with the crowd.

It was stifling hot, but no one noticed, too lost in the beat of the pulsing music. Due to the amount of alcohol she’d consumed, she’d had no choice but to hold on to Charles in order to stay on her feet. Her high heels hadn’t helped either. With Thomas supporting her back, she rested her head on his shoulder.

She could feel the tightly-fitted dress move, and realized hands were now on her inner thighs, brushing against her constantly. This was followed by her mouth being captured by Charles’ lips and tongue; the heat of his mouth ensnaring her with delight. She could taste the cocktail he’d had earlier on his tongue; sweet, with a spicy flavor, and it turned her on. Soft moans escaped her lips. She knew, somewhere in the far recesses of her mind, that this was wrong, but the sensations which coursed through her body were not willing to be ignored, and she gave in to the
m.

Their hands held her even closer, exploring her body. She lifted one of her legs, wrapping it around his hip, moaning with pleasure when they brushed against her. Minutes―or was it hours―passed where she gave in to the attention. The music made them ali
ve as their heartbeats thumped to the same rhythm. Her senses were heightened as they explored every inch of her. She forgot her surroundings, loving the vibrations her body was exuding. They would tease her, over and over, their warm breaths always present on her. Her hands explored on their own initiative.

At one point, she became aware of Charles’ erection in her hand; his own groans filling her ears. Her body lifted, and she was open. Thomas’ hand had prepared her to receive Charles. Her heart rate picked up as she was thrust against them, bumping, grinding, and rubbing. And then there was the
slap. Its vibration woke her.

Finally, it all came crashing down, forcing her to come to her senses. Mortified, she realized where she was, as well as the closeness of the two men who were still deep in their haze. She released Charles’ member, and pushed them both away. The music around them still keeping up the persistent pace as she tried to right her dress. Anabella was wasting her time, because they became more adamant as their hands turned into claws, hurting her. She felt her dress rip in the process.

Charles and Thomas had her pressed so tightly between them, she could barely move. Nevertheless, she continued to struggle, even biting down on Charles’ lower lip. It seemed to have worked, because on a curse he released her. He touched his bleeding lip, his eyes dark and fierce, the look he gave her menacing. Fear clutched at her heart in a death grip. He said something, but she didn’t hear him. Again, he grabbed her, with Thomas holding up the rear, pressing her tightly between them once more. She wanted to scream. Frantic and panicking, she continued to struggle against them, until two bouncers arrived and lugged them away.

She was grateful to the two men. Anabella stood there on shaking legs due to the sudden loss of their weight. How they’d gotten to her she didn’t know, but she didn’t question it and left the club in one piece. Prior to leaving, they’d asked her if she wanted to press charges, but she decided against it and allowed them to be released. One thing Anabella did
n’t want was for the police to get involved.

Her torn dress lay in the rubbish bin. Her body was covered in haphazard bruises, which ached the moment she hit the water. She couldn’t believe how far she’d let them go. The most frightening was the fact that she’d been very close to losing her virginity. Shame and fear became her constant companion since that night.

When she saw them the next morning, the daggers that shot from their eyes and the looks on their faces, told her they weren’t close to being done with her.

She struggled through her event, but kept her composure. Determination and a strong will kept her head in the game. She had come too far to quit now and it paid off. Anabella achieved first place, beating
Andria by the tips of her fingers. However, her coach awaited her at the finish line, and he was not at all happy. After a few words were exchanged, she messaged Aldrich, telling him she was fine. She knew it wouldn’t help by sharing with him what had taken place, because there was nothing he could do.

This was yet another obstacle she would have to face alone. As with everything else in her life.

“What does she say, Son?” his father asked the moment the phone buzzed with her reply. He read it and frowned.

“She says she is fine, and that I
shouldn’t worry about her. So typical of her,” he mumbled as he walked away. Determined to find the underlying cause of this he added, “I need to make a quick call, Dad. I’ll be right back to help with the fire.”

“Fine, Son.” Mr. Hagin disappeared into the kitchen, deep in thought.

Aldrich just knew something more was going on with Anabella, and since he couldn’t help her, there were other ways to achieve this. He decided to give Mr. Clark a call. He’d met the older man a few times during practices; a very practical and paternal man, one who cared about the well-being of his team, especially Anabella’s. They spoke for a few minutes, a conversation which left both men disturbed. Mr. Clark agreed to look into it, and would get in touch with what he managed to discover.

Aldrich made his way back to the patio where he immediately set about starting the fire for the barbeque. A permanent frown was etched on his face.

“She will be fine, Son. You just need to put her in the hands of the Lord. He is able to watch over her, and send in the troops if need be.”

Aldrich chuckled. “Yes, Dad, I’d forgotten that.”

“No harm done, Son, she will be fine. I’m sure she’s strong, and will overcome whatever is bothering her. You are doing a great job so far yourself.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Are you serious about her?”

Aldrich looked at his father, somewhat perplexed, as if the absurdity of the question was out of line.

“Yes, Dad, I am. She’s definitely the next Mrs. Aldrich Hagin.” He chuckled. “She calls me her boyfriend. That’s so sweet.”

It was Thomas Hagin’s turn to chuckle. His son was smitten with the young girl, and although he had not as yet met her, his son talked about her constantly. Just by watching him when Anabella had swum during her race was evidence enough that Aldrich was lost.

His heart was on his sleeve, and he was happy for him. It was about time he found the happiness he deserved, one which was long overdue.

“You owe me,” Charles’ whining voice told her when she answered a call on her cell. She’d already been in bed.

“I owe you nothing!” she balked, outraged at his assumption.
How dared he?

“I have spent a lot of money on you, and in return you ran out on me, on us,” Charles accused.

“Well, I never!” she huffed, seething, her fist hitting the mattress with a low thud out of frustration.

“Come on, Anabella, don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.” He smirked, remembering her willingness for a few seconds as she’d relaxed against them during the dance. Her hand wrapped around him in those scorching moments, moments when he’d thought he would finally achieve a home run.

“I. Did. Not. You owe me a dress,” she clipped out, and in return he laughed. It felt like ice-cold water running down her back, and she shivered.

“No, darling, I don’t. By the way, we are in your hotel right about now, and you will open the door so that we can finish our dance, if you know what I mean.”

“Not going to happen,” she snapped.

Charles continued to laugh, adding, “We will see. There are ways to get into your room.”

“No!” she shouted in frustration, hearing him snigger before the phone went dead.

She felt sick. Her heart raced uncontrollably.
What am I going to do,
she asked herself. A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. Her heart stopped in that moment and she clutched the blankets close to her. Her knuckles white, her eyes big and scared as she watched the door, terrified of the men on the other side.

“Anabella? It’s Mr. Clark,” the male voice called out, relief flooding her body as she sagged against the mattress.

“Oh, thank you,” she whispered, rushing to the door, not bothering to cover herself. She looked through the peephole and saw Mr. Clark accompanied by his wife.

She took deep breaths to ease her racing heart and with shaky hands, opened the door. “Mr. Clark, is something the matter?”

“No, dear, we just wanted to visit with you a few minutes if that’s acceptable?”

“Yes, of course.” She opened the door wider for them to enter, and then rushed back to her bed to pull on her sweat pants and sweater.

“Please, have a seat,” Anabella invited with a welcoming smile.