Crushed
Authors: S.B. Alexander
S.B.
Alexander© Copyright 2014
This is a work
of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of
the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual
persons, alive or dead is entirely coincidental.
No part of
this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced to a retrieval system,
or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of
the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
Dedication
For the two lights of my life. I
love you.
I’m a book worm. A book geek. A lover of romance. I spend more time reading
books, than worrying about the newest fashions. Books don’t steer you wrong.
They might break your heart, but you will find another that will put it
together all over again.
The billionaires with fetish obsessions. The bad boy biker. The Alpha male who
will kill anyone that dares to hurt the girl that they love. Those were the
stories I loved.
It always felt nice to take a step out of the real world, and jump into a world
where you could pretend to be the girl dating the famous rock star. For a few hours
every day, you could pretend to be someone else. Pretend to feel wanted,
knowing that men like that would never cross your path. That you were average,
and outside of your older sister, totally alone.
Until it does happen. Until I meet the most beautiful man you have ever seen.
One who goes through women, like I do books. A man who makes more in a year
than I’ll will ever see in an entire lifetime. The sweetest, most complicated
and gorgeous male ever created.
He wants me.
But he isn’t free
This is the story of me. My life, my love, and my heartbreak.
Chapter 1.
Growing up, I had the best childhood. My mom Sheryl, insisted on being a stay
at home mom. She made everything from scratch, she sewed our clothes, made our
Halloween costumes and baked the best damn cookies you’ve ever tasted. She was
beautiful in a 1950’s housewife sort of way. She was content to never work, she
was content to take care of her family and she loved my father something
fierce.
My father George, was the most handsome man I had ever seen. He was a pilot for
35 years. Making more than enough money to take care of his family. He refused to
work weekends. Every weekend as a family we would go on a road trip. My dad
would come home on Friday afternoon, open a map of the state of California and
we would pick a place to visit. Never the same place twice. We always collected
mementoes of our trips, dad always drove, and mom always held that map and we
always sang songs. It would be cheesy to anyone on the outside, but as a little
girl I knew how lucky I was.
I saw the other girls at school. Some of my friends had divorced parents. Some
didn’t know who their fathers were. I always thought that was sad. I felt bad
for them. I couldn’t imagine a world where I didn’t have a mom and dad who held
hands and walked across the beach. Or kissed under the mistletoe every
Christmas, or tucked us in every night. My sister Lacey and I were lucky. I
knew that. I cherished that.
Dad and I were closest though. He and I would go into his shed and build
things, work on cars, or talk about boys. Dad was always telling me that I was
never to date a boy who didn’t treat me like a princess “Peanut” he would say
“if he doesn’t open doors for you, and tell you that you are the most beautiful
girl he has ever seen every single day, drop him”.
I
would always giggle, but I knew he was serious. He was a wise man, but dad was
very concerned with the way boys were. Lacey started dating when she was 16 and
I was 12. I would see boys come to the door and dad would invite them in and
grill them. Very few stuck around. Lacey would always get upset with dad and
tell him that he was ruining her life. But I knew that dad just wanted what was
best for her.
I didn’t really feel the need to date. I liked boys, I had kissed a few but sex
wasn’t something I was really that interested in. I was more interested in
playing sports. I was the best female pitcher our girls’ softball team had ever
seen. After every game my dad went to, he would take me for ice cream and tell
me how proud he was of me. At night when I would kiss him goodnight he always
said “goodnight angel, bless the Gods for finding me deserving of a star like
you”.
I was a week away from my 17
th
birthday, when my dad was killed in a
car accident. Mom didn’t have many details at first. She picked us up from
school to tell us, that dad was on the way to the airport for a 3 day trip when
he was killed. Days later we learned that a drunk driver had fallen asleep at
the wheel, and driven into dad’s lane. My dad was killed on impact.
I feel like that was always something that police officers told families to
make them feel better; “he was killed instantly.” Did that mean he didn’t have
time to know what happened, did he think of us? Was he scared? There was no
real way of knowing what he thought of last. What he felt. But I knew what I felt.
I felt abandoned. I felt like the one person I loved most, who loved me most
was gone.
Lacey came home from college at UCLA and stayed with mom and me for 2 weeks.
She helped mom plan the funeral. I was pretty helpless. I spent my days in dad’s
shed. Looking at the cars, the unfinished projects that he and I had. Wondering
what I was going to do now. Mom tried to make me feel better. She would come in
at night, bring me a plate of dinner and tell me stories of my dad from when I
was a baby. She knew what he and I had. She knew that our relationship was
different than what he shared with Lacey. Lacey knew it too. It wasn’t a bad
thing. Mom and Lacey always did things together. Dad and I were a packaged
deal.
Lacey went back to school and life went back to “normal”. I returned to my
junior year of high school. I dropped out of softball. My coach was shocked and
begged me to reconsider. I didn’t give it a second thought. The dreams of
playing in college didn’t matter. My dad wasn’t there to root for me, I didn’t
want to do anything that would make me feel like I was going on without him.
Our family had plenty of money. In fact dad had been really big on making wills
and updating them constantly. He left Lacey and I our own trust funds, that mom
told me he had been working on since each of us was born. Between those and
dad’s life insurance which was split into each fund (dad left money for mom
too) Lacey and I had about 5 million dollars each.
3
months into my senior year, my mom came home with a man. I was excited for her,
as much as I could be because I knew how much she had loved my dad. I knew the
idea of her moving on and dating someone new was not an easy thing for her to
do. Rick was the opposite of dad. My dad had blonde hair and blue eyes, was
tall and handsome. Rick was slightly shorter, already sporting a beer gut and
grey hair covered his head. His brown eyes were dark. Sinister almost. I didn’t
care for him. But he was what my mom wanted, and he was rich.
About
2 months before graduation mom decided that she wanted to move in with Rick. I
would be 18, a legal adult so mom asked me if I wanted to come with them. I
did, only because I felt I owed mom. It was pretty easy to say that Rick and I didn’t
get along. He was a jerk, he drank a lot and he treated my mother like she was
a maid. But there was a lot worse in Rick. Things my mom didn’t know.
Rick
had a thing for younger girls. Mainly me. When my mom was out shopping, or
getting her nails done with friends. Rick would always knock on my bedroom
door. The first few times I let him in. I didn’t think anything of it. He would
ask me how my day was and I would always tell him. We would talk about
homework, my friends and he asked a few times if I was dating anyone.
At
first I thought this was innocent. But then Rick would start asking every time
he came in. Like he was worried that I was dating someone. I told him about
Eric, a cute guy in my class who had asked me to prom and he told me I was “a whore
who just wanted to fuck anything that walked”. I was shocked. Not as shocked as
when he asked me if I was a virgin. I answered with a lie “no”. I wasn’t sure
why I told him that. I was in fact a virgin. Ricks response startled me, he
reached across the bed where I was sitting and pulled me to him. Grabbing the
back of my neck and my gripping my hair tight in his hands, he started kissing
me. I clamped my mouth shut refusing to give him any sign that this was okay. I
tried to scream and get away, scratching him.
He
pinned me to the bed and started slapping me. Grabbing my wrists and forcing
them up near my head. He lifted my night gown up and with his other hand
started to remove the belt and buckle of his jeans. Just before he was able to
get any further my mom came running in. Screaming at Rick to get away from me.
Rick started yelling at her to get out and before he could turn back to me, I
grabbed my purse and ran out the front door. Jumped into my car and left. I
didn’t know where I was going, I just knew that I would never again go into
that house with that man.
My
mom called me a few hours later. I was sitting in the local diner, sipping on a
strawberry milkshake. They were my dad’s favorite, I never needed him more than
I did in that very moment.
“Hello?”
I answered, feeling the fear that it was Rick calling me, not my mom
“Emmalyn
where are you?” My mom’s fear ringing in my ears
“I’m
at the diner, where are you?” I asked
“I’m
at home, where else would I be?” she asked sounding calmer
“Why
are you there, do you need me to come get you?” I was starting to feel
flustered
“No,
why would you come get me? Rick told me what happened I’m not mad at you
sweetie, you have been through so much just come back home.” she replied
“What
the fuck are you talking about? Your boyfriend tried to rape me mother why
would I come back there?” I shouted into the phone, feeling the bile rising
into my throat
“He
told me that you came onto him, that you have been flirting with him and …..and
expecting flirting in return.” She said, making it sound like if that in fact
had been the truth, it was no big deal
“And
you believe him?” I asked
“Of
course.” she says
I
pause. Trying to think of what I can do or say next. She’s not going to leave
him. She’s going to stay with the same man who 2 hours ago tried to rape her
daughter.
The
sudden rush of bravery hit me. I knew what I needed to do.
“Well,
then I guess we know what happens next. I will come pick up my stuff in the
morning with a police officer and that will be the last time you see me mother.
Thank you for the vote of confidence. But just so we are clear, Rick tried to
rape me tonight, and if you ever loved me or ever cared about me you will
realize one day that you believed a man over your own daughter. My father would
be turning in his grave if he could see you now.” and I hung up the phone.
I
grabbed a hotel room for the night, but was unable to sleep until I scrubbed
every scent and touch of Rick off my body. I felt sick every time I thought
about his fat disgusting hands on my body. I felt sicker when I thought about
my mom believing a man she had known for 9 months over her own daughter. I had
heard about widow’s becoming desperate to not feel alone, needing another man
to fill that void. I suppose I thought that after a great love like the one
that my mom and dad shared, my mom would take a little longer to ‘jump’ right
into a serious relationship, but the fact that she had chosen to believe his
disgusting lies over me hurt like nothing I had ever felt.
I
called Lacey as soon as I step out of the shower. Towel wrapped around my body,
sitting on the bed unsure of telling her. I was worried that she would side
with mom. That she would turn her back on me too. The fear was almost too much.
I dialed her number 3 times and hung up after each ring. I set the phone down
and stood up to get dressed. Thinking I wasn’t yet ready to have someone else
doubt me, when suddenly Michael Jacksons “Billie Jean.” started blaring from my
cell phone. Lacey was calling me
“Hello?”
I answered in a voice so quiet I wasn’t sure she would hear me
“Hey
bug, what’s with all the prank calls?” she asked, laughing at something in the
background
“Um...
have you talked to mom tonight?” I asked, still not finding my confidence to
keep up the conversation
“No,
she called I hit the fuck you button.” she said laughing
“Rick
tried to rape me tonight!” I blurted out
I
heard a bang, like something dropping then stomping and a door slam
“WHAT?”
She yelled into the phone
I
told her what had happened from the beginning. She had met Rick a few times and
wasn’t a fan any more than I was, but she got to go back to her own home at the
end of the day. She didn’t know how gross he really was. After I told her about
mom and how I told her I would be collecting my stuff and I was done with her,
Lacey was silent for a few moments
“I
am so sorry babe.” she said, sounding as if she was crying.
I
waited, unsure if she believed me or if she was sorry for something else.
Before I had a chance to ask her she spoke up “get your shit and drive down
here. You can stay with me until you figure out what’s next. I can’t believe
mom would believe that creep over you, but I will take care of you. Just get
here as soon as you can.” Her voice cracking.
Tears
started pouring down my face and the hysterical crying started soon after.
Relief, pain of losing my mom, of almost being raped... It was all there
“Thank
you Lacey, thank you so much for believing me!”
“Why
would I not believe you Emmy? You are my little sister, you might be a pain in
the ass but you are the toughest bitch I know and you would never make
something like that up. I have to go let Jason know what is going on, but as
soon as you are on the road in the morning let me know. I will see you soon. I
love you.”
We
hung up, and for the first time in a while, I knew everything was going to be
okay one way or another.