Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Thank you,” I repeated and relaxed in his arms completely. It was enough to have his protection—enough to have him as my “big brother” even though I secretly wanted more. Nick would keep me safe, I told myself. He would never leave me.
Never.
SIXTEEN
We spent the rest of the night curled in each other’s arms on the dank basement floor. We didn’t dare even go out to the barn in case the Spauldings came to check on us. About an hour before it was time to get up, Nick had to lock me in the box again so Nancy wouldn’t suspect he’d grabbed her key.
He told me later that he’d nearly gotten caught returning it, but he managed to put it back on the dresser where she’d left it and slip away just as she was turning over in bed. It was a close call, but then, we were going to have plenty of those in the miserable days ahead.
Both of us joined more after school activities, as per Nick’s plan. Now we were getting back to the foster home late almost every weekday night, much to the Spauldings’ displeasure. But Nick reminded them that teachers might ask questions if we were denied the same right the other kids had to participate and that shut them up.
Nancy Spaulding made up for it by making us work twice as hard in the hours we were home. Bedtime was pushed back to make sure we had time to do all our “chores.” Dinner portions were also reduced and if Nick hadn’t regularly sweet talked the cafeteria ladies in school into giving us extra food, I think we both might have starved. As it was, we went to bed hungry most nights, shivering in our respective stalls out in the barn.
The weekends we didn’t have away football games were the worst. We were home all day with the Spauldings, which meant Gary Spaulding had plenty of time to try and get to me.
He would try to ambush me around the house, hiding in the ensuite bathroom to jump out when I came to collect the dirty laundry from the master bedroom or even crouching behind the laundry room door to catch me alone.
Every time this happened, Nick’s brand warned him I was in trouble. The minute it started burning, he would rush into the house to find me and defuse the situation. But as fast as he was, Gary Spaulding always managed to at least cop a feel. He was always grabbing my breasts or my ass and trying to reach between my legs to grab what he called “a handful of sugar.”
My foster father’s relentless abuse made me feel sick and dirty and ashamed of my newly developed body. I hated my new curves and wished I could have my flat, boyish figure back. I just wanted to be invisible to him!
One day, after Nick had showed up just in time to drag Gary off me in the laundry room but not fast enough to stop our foster father from grabbing my breasts yet again, I started to cry.
“Oh, Kira, baby…” Nick gathered me into his arms and held me as Gary Spaulding stormed off in huff.
“How the hell do you always show up at just the wrong time?” he spat over his shoulder at Nick.
“Because Kira’s under my protection,” Nick growled back. “You leave her the fuck alone, you old bastard!”
He didn’t bother using his charm on the Spauldings anymore—it was pretty much open war between us. But even though Nick had saved me, yet again, from getting raped, I still felt like Gary had very nearly won this particular battle. My breasts ached from the rough way he’d grabbed me and I felt dirty all over from having his disgusting hands on me!
“I hate him—I hate him so much! I just want him to stop touching me!” I sobbed into Nick’s chest as he stroked my trembling back. “It makes me feel so dirty, Nick!”
“God, darlin’, I know! I’m so sorry I wasn’t faster. He had me way out in the back burning trash,” Nick explained. “At first when the brand started burning, I thought it was just the heat from the fire. But I should have realized, I should have come sooner…”
“It’s not your fault!” I said fiercely, looking up at him with wet eyes. “It’s his! I just want to find a way to keep his nasty hands off me. I…I wish I could grow spikes all over my skin or sharp quills like a porcupine so that when he grabbed me, he would hurt himself!”
Nick looked thoughtful.
“Why don’t you, then?” he murmured. “No, listen—I’m serious,” he told me. “Aren’t you in the sewing club now?”
“Yes,” I said, frowning. It was one of the many after school clubs I had joined. “So?”