In Control (The City Series) (12 page)

“It’s a shame you have to spend every summer in this shithole,” I joked, eyeing the massive brick home.

“You should see Jay and Samson’s places.” Wren was never one to boast about what his family owned. He was grounded thanks to that elephant tattooed on his back.

When we got out of the car, Wren immediately rushed to my side to assist me. The first few times he’d done it, I insisted on opening my own car doors, claiming my independence, but the more he refused to let me, the more I grew to like it.

“Such a gentleman,” I said, kissing his cheek.

“My mom taught me well.” He grasped my hand in his. “So, my parents aren’t here yet...” he trailed off with a salacious wink.

“Does that mean we can have sex in every room of the house? I’m pretty sure
that
would take at least a week to manage.”

Wren laughed, shaking his head. “Come on, I wanna show you something.”

“The last time you said that, we ended up naked,” I joked, taking his fingers and entwining them with mine.

Wren ignored my witty response and instead began walking onto the warm sand, practically dragging me behind him.

We had been in the Hamptons for only five minutes, and already Wren was like a kid on Christmas morning. I suggested we unload our bags first, but he insisted we do that later. He was being very hush-hush about what he had planned, and my constant questioning only resulted in made up answers, my favorite being, “We’re going to steal from all the rich people and leave the scene as billionaires.”

“Will you just tell me what’s going on?” I asked, pulling on his arm to grab his
attention. We’d been walking on the beach for a few minutes, and still, Wren made no sign of stopping.

“No.”

“You’re an ass,” I muttered.

Finally, Wren stopped and stood in front of an abandoned blanket. He turned around, a childlike grin on his face.

“What?” I asked, a slight edge in my voice.

Wren shook his head back and forth, a smile remaining on his lips. “Sit down, Kingsley.”

I sat down and looked up at him. “Will you tell me now?”

Wren joined me on the blanket, kneeling directly in front of me. He leaned forward and whispered, “There’s something I want to do that I’ve never done before.”

The fire in his eyes turned up my body temperature. In a matter of seconds, we were both naked. Our bodies molded together, and suddenly I was on my back. The stars above us danced across the black sky, performing pirouettes for my eyes. Wren’s hands traveled the length of my body, leaving trails of heat along my skin. The heat seeped into my heart, filling it with a warmth I’d always longed to feel. His lips swept across my shoulder, covering my entire body in goosebumps.

“Touch me,” I begged.

Wren’s fingers found that deep, intimate place inside of me, stealing my breath. He pushed my knees farther apart, his eyes focused on mine. My eyebrows knitted together as his fingers pushed deeper, easily locating the spot that caused my entire body to tremble. My lips were moving, explicit words escaping my mouth as my throat became raw with the intensity of my orgasm.

I needed more. I needed Wren. Pulling him back on top of me, I wrapped my legs tightly around his torso. The blanket that was once perfectly laid out was now a mess beneath our bodies. The sand had found its way onto our skin and I felt it scrape across my arms.

“Do you want me?” Wren asked as he left a trail of kisses along my neck.

“Always,” I gasped, still trying to catch my breath.

For a moment, we looked into each other’s eyes. This was the one thing I’d never done before. I never allowed myself to see into a person’s soul. I was grateful for the light of the moon; it gave us the chance to truly look at one another.

I turned away, suddenly overwhelmed by what I saw. His love was unmistakable, causing an ache to rise up from deep within me. The kind of love he was showing me couldn’t exist because I’d deemed myself unlovable. I’d done everything in my power to push people away, but Wren’s love was so strong, it was impossible to ignore.

Pushing the thoughts away, I guided him inside me, needing him to fill every abandoned corner. Wren pushed deeper, moving me up and off of the blanket, my back hitting the warm sand. I could feel the tiny grains in places they shouldn’t be, but there was no way I was going to reposition myself. My nails scraped against Wren’s back as he pushed even farther inside of me. The sound of the ocean waves crashing onto the beach, along with the sight of the full moon and the shining stars, would forever be etched into my memory. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to tell Wren how much he meant to me, that I wanted him to be my future, but I couldn’t find the words, so I let my fingers, my lips, my pointed toes do the talking for me.

Wren’s movements sped up. My fingers trailed across his back, feeling the beads of sand stuck to his skin. Sand was now everywhere, and it would take days for both of us to wash the traces away. I knotted my fingers in his hair, pulling lightly on his short locks. I allowed my body to feel things I’d always pushed away, to feel the emotions that came with intimacy. Wren was touching parts of me that I never knew existed and I reveled in the sensations that inhabited my body. The ache was building and building and my heart was beating so quickly it should have exploded in my chest.

Seconds, no, minutes...no, it had to be seconds. Seconds of insane, mind-numbing ecstasy. My body trembled. My nails dug into Wren’s back. My feet burrowed underneath large piles of sand. Wren’s full weight rested on my chest and he was breathing heavily in my ear. I closed my eyes, relishing in the feeling that only sex could give me. Those silent seconds where I could convey myself completely, where my body was an acceptable gift and I didn’t have to utter those three words to make the situation better, those seconds were my favorite part.

His breathing slowed and he lifted his head slightly to kiss my cheek. If my veins were filled with poison, his lips were the antidote.

“Well, isn’t this classy?”

Wren practically jumped off me, covering our bodies with the blanket. Neither of us had heard anyone approaching the beach, and my first thought was how long did this pervert stand there and watch before making their presence known?

My second thought came shortly after. I knew who the voice belonged to. The same voice that broke through every barrier I ever put up.

It was Porter. He had come to ruin everything. Again.

I returned home right as the Hendersons were sitting down for dinner. I wanted to avoid all conversation, but since the basement door was adjacent to the kitchen, I knew I wouldn’t be so lucky. The kids were all seated, each one speaking over the other. Mrs. Henderson was standing at the stove, stirring one of the boiling pots, while Mr. Henderson sat in his usual seat, ignoring the children as he read the newspaper. I often wondered if he actually read the paper or if it was just a tactic he used to get out of learning about his children. I never once heard him ask how anyone’s day was, or if they had any homework, or even if they were enjoying their dinner. He didn’t put any effort into trying to be any sort of father to them.

Mrs. Henderson, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. If she wasn’t nagging Mr. Henderson to do something, she was busy nagging one of the kids.
Turn down your radio! Clean your room! Pick up the groceries!
As far as I was concerned, Mrs. Henderson believed that since she
saved
so many children, she no longer had to do anything for herself. Some nights, like tonight, she would cook, but that was only when Ashley, the oldest out of all of us, wasn’t around.

As quiet as a mouse, I walked to the basement door, thankful that it was already slightly open. Just enough to squeeze my body through.

“Kingsley,” Mrs. Henderson spit my name out like it was curdled milk, “come here.”

The other children immediately quieted down when I walked into the kitchen. They had to know how much the Hendersons hated me. The house wasn’t that big, and each time I was being scolded or beaten for something I didn’t do, the noise had to travel. For a long time, I thought that maybe the other kids were also being abused, but judging by their constant upbeat attitudes, I realized I must have been the only one.

“Yes, Mrs. Henderson?” I said, standing a few inches from her.

Mr. Henderson’s eyes peeked over his paper, and I could feel the contents of my stomach rising. I swallowed three times, hoping I wouldn’t puke all over the kitchen floor.

“Where did you go today?”

“I went to Mrs. Hall’s,” I lied.

“I called Mrs. Hall to check on you. She told me you weren’t there.”

She shook the spatula as she spoke, and I hoped it wasn’t what would be used on me later. When we were alone.

“I went there, but she didn’t have any work for me,” I stammered, “so I went to the library and read.”

Mrs. Henderson’s eyes burned into mine. She could make anyone feel worthless with her icy glare. “I’d hate to find out you were lying to me,” she threatened.

Andrew got up from his seat and walked over to my side. He craned his neck as he spoke. “Momma, Kingsley told me earlier she was going to the library. She said she was going to look for a book that I could read.”

“I see,” Mrs. Henderson said as she put the spatula down on the counter. “Did you find a book for Drew to read?”

“Y-yes,” I stuttered. “They had both
Diary of a Wimpy Kid
books.” I looked down at Drew and smiled.

“Really?” Drew’s eyes lit-up with the mention of his favorite books.

“Really,” I answered, squeezing his shoulder lightly.

Andrew jumped up and down with exaggerated excitement. He was such a good kid for saving me.

“Andrew, sit down and finish your dinner,” Mrs. Henderson ordered. “Kingsley,” once again, her evil eyes were staring me down, “the garbage needs to be taken out later this evening.”

The moment I stepped foot into the basement, every bit of nausea disappeared. I didn’t want to think of the consequences I would have faced if it wasn’t for Drew speaking up. He was the Hendersons’ pride and joy, so not believing him wasn’t even an option.

I sat down on one of the boxes used to keep miscellaneous items in. With eleven people living under one roof, space was extremely limited. There were four bedrooms and only one working bathroom. Everything that couldn’t fit upstairs was kept in the basement, leaving only a tiny corner for my now abandoned mattress. My clothing was kept folded on top of a stack of boxes, and the two pairs of shoes I owned were neatly lined next to each other. I didn’t mind the small space. I was the only child in the house that got to sleep alone, though I’m sure that’s due to the fact that the Hendersons didn’t want me upstairs. I
used
to love sleeping down here. I
used
to feel safe.

Tears clouded my sight, thinking of the other night. When
it
happened. I wanted my thoughts to revolve around my day with Porter. I wanted to hold the happiness inside and never let it leave my body, but I couldn’t. I was scared. As long as I was in this house, my only concern would be on how to keep myself safe. I had to plan what I’d do if Mr. Henderson ever came down here again. If he did, I’d be ready for him, and he wouldn’t ever touch any part of me again.

I looked around the room, searching for a release. My stomach muscles contracted with every deep breath I was taking, and I couldn’t stop the tears from pouring down my face. The scissors were right where I left them the last time. The night I cut myself, I cleaned the blood from the scissors with my sock and stuffed the sock into the bottom of the garbage, making sure no one could ever find it.

I held the scissors in my hands, not sure what to do next. I’d only cut myself that one night, and when it was over, I felt better. Maybe harming myself was a solution, a way to forget about what Mr. Henderson had done. I was tempted to run the blade against every spot he touched. They were scarred on the inside, the outside may as well match.

There was a mirror leaning against the wall, and I walked over and stood in front of it. When I looked at my reflection, I couldn’t see past the terrified girl I’d turned into. It was hard to remember a time I was completely happy, when I wasn’t always so scared. When I was at school, or when I used to dance...those were the times I felt happiest. I didn’t know whether or not thirteen year olds should be as sad as I was. I wanted to think that I wasn’t the only one in the world, but that thought upset me because I didn’t want anyone else living the life I did.

My reflection showed the signs I’d hidden from the world. I plastered a smile on my face, but in the mirror, I could see the sadness that brimmed each of my cheeks. I waved cheerfully at the girl, but I could see the loneliness in the way I moved my hand back and forth. I kept my head down everywhere I went so people didn’t see what showed so clearly in the mirror.

I ran the cold metal against my stomach. His calloused hands had caressed the skin right under my belly button. I ran my fingers over it, my body trembling as I remembered how his hands felt like sandpaper against my smooth skin.