Broken In Pieces: Billionaire Stepbrother Romance (Wounded Hearts Book 1) (3 page)

As he turns toward me, he sees a tear running down my cheek so he reaches over to brush it away, “Ah baby, don’t fret. It’ll be better next time.”
Next time?? Next time?? Is he that crazy??
The next thing I know, he’s opening my car door and standing me on my feet. He slaps me on the ass as he’s telling me to go on inside. He drives away as I stumble and pitch my way to the front door. Once inside, I’m so relieved to find that Mother and Carter are asleep. I make my way to my room, topple over onto my bed and cry myself to sleep.

Solution

I
wake, slightly,
from the light coming through the window of my bedroom. My head is groggy and I feel sore all over, like I’ve been beaten with a baseball bat. I realize I’m still in my clothes from last night and on top of the covers but can’t bring myself to care. I wonder what time it is but I just don’t have the energy to get up. As I’m fading back into sleep, memories of last night start running through my head but I can’t stay awake.

“Sheridan….Sheridan, honey, what’s wrong,” I hear my mother say, as I realize she’s shaking me. It startles me and I jerk to a sitting up position. “Sheridan, you were crying in your sleep. Bad dream?” she questions. I nod in confirmation. She looks me over from head to toe. “You’re still in your clothes. Your face is bruised and there’s blood in the corner of your mouth. What happened to you, Sheridan?” she asks in a concerned but demanding tone.

I try to stay calm myself but I lose it. I begin to sob. Mother puts her arms around me and holds me like a young child. I had wanted this kind of caring from my mother so many times over my childhood. She strokes my hair, “Shhh, it can’t be that bad, darling.” I sob even harder so she holds me tighter. She sits back a bit and wipes my tears, “Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

I shallow hard, trying to find my voice, “Jarrod…he, he raped me last night.” I begin to sob again.

“He did what??” she says as tears well in her eyes.

“He raped me,” I moan through my sobs.

She grabs me and hugs me tight, “Oh God,” she cries. We hold each other and cry for what seems like forever. Mother sits back, dries her eyes and then begins wiping the tears from my face, “Honey, are you sure of what you’re saying?”

Am I sure??
I’m so hurt by her question that I can feel my heart rip like it’s being cut with a dull knife. I pull the t-shirt up, unlatch my blood stained bra to expose my breast, “Yes Mother, I’m sure.”

She gasps, putting her hand over her mouth. She grabs my hand, “Was he wearing protection?”

I explain the whole gut wrenchingly nasty scene to her. The fact that I only had one glass of wine. The fact that I think I was drugged. The fact that I couldn’t raise my arms or get my body to react in any way. The fact that I have no idea if he was wearing protection or not because I couldn’t move. By this time, my voice and sobs have gotten so loud that they must have gotten Carter’s attention. He comes running into my room, “What’s wrong?!?!”

I just sit on the bed and continue crying. Mother strokes my head again, “I’ll be back in a little while, Sheridan. Stay right here and rest.” Then she ushers Carter out of the room. I lie back down on the bed, still crying from the hurt of Mother’s question.
Of course I am sure. Does she think I am stupid? Does she think I would make something like that up?
I’m not sure which is worse, the wound she just inflicted on me or the wounds from last night.

Mother returns a couple of hours later with a glass of water and some pills in her hand, “Here, take these.”

I pop the pills in my mouth, take a drink and swallow. “What are they?”

“A couple of Tylenol and something to make sure you don’t get pregnant.”
Pregnant? Oh God, please no!
Mother must have seen the instant fear and shock on my face. “Don’t worry about that. These will completely take care of it. I called our family doctor and had him call it in at the pharmacy. I didn’t tell him what had happened just that I needed them,” she answers without me having to say a word.

“Now, let’s get you in the shower. You’ll feel better after you’re cleaned up a bit.” I keep insisting that I can do it myself so she concedes as long as I let her know when I’m finished. I get the shower as hot as I can and it does feel good. I stay until I am a prune. I keep trying to wash his smell off of me. I scrub until my skin is raw but I can still feel him touching me. Nothing helps.

It’s late evening. I let Mother know that I’ve finished and that I’m just going to lie down. She insists that I eat and brings a sandwich to my room. The last thing I feel like doing is eating but I do, so that Mother will be satisfied. She tells me that Donna called earlier and she told her that I wasn’t feeling well. I love Donna but I’m thankful that Mother pacified her. I don’t wanna talk to nor see anyone. I just want to lock myself in my room and sleep until this isn’t even a memory anymore.

I lie looking up at my ceiling, wondering again, why all of this happened.
Why did he rape me? Did I do something that made him? Was it the clothes I was wearing, earlier in the night? Was it something I said? Why did Mother turn so cold with her questions? Did she think I did something to cause it?
I end up crying myself to sleep somewhere between all the questions running through my head.

It’s morning again and as much as I had wished to wake up with no memories, it didn’t happen. I’m still sore and I have a headache from hell. I go to the medicine cabinet, in my bathroom, to get some Tylenol and end up caught in my reflection in the mirror.
Who is this girl staring back at me? She looks weathered and sad. She looks like no one I’ve ever known. She looks like no one I’ve ever wanted to know.

I shake my head, as if coming out of a dream, and turn from the mirror. I wanna run away to where no one knows me. I wanna lock myself away and never have to deal with people again. I feel ashamed even though I know that I haven’t done anything wrong. I get dressed, wishing I didn’t have to leave my room.

Finally, I pull myself together and head down stairs. Mother and Carter are sitting at the dining room table. I wonder why Carter hasn’t left for the office yet. I enter the room and they both turn to stare at me. There is an awkward silence. Carter rises from the table, “I’m headed to the office now,” he has such a look of disappointment on his face.
Was this disappointment aimed at me?
He kisses Mother good-bye and stops to hug me as he leaves. He hugs me tight, as if he never wants to let me go and it takes me by surprise.

When Carter is out the front door, Mother asks me to join her. She takes my hand, “Sheridan, dear, Carter and I have been talking about the incident. I think being away from here would be best for you at this point. Carter has contacted a friend at Berkeley College in New York and they have a place for you this fall. We also found a lovely apartment for you in the city. It’s near Carter’s place there.” I feel all the blood drain from my body. There it is. I’m the dirty little secret that needs to be sent away.
Out of sight, out of mind
.

I sit silent for a few moments, “Well, it looks as though you guys have this all wrapped up in a nice, neat little package.” The dismay in my voice is very apparent.

“Sheridan, don’t be like that. We only want what’s best for you. Staying here, seeing Jarrod on the streets and people eventually finding out is going to be a lot for you to handle,” Mother gives her simple explanation. I am hurt beyond what I have ever known and tears are streaming down my face. I can’t believe she is trying to put this on me.

“NO, Mother! It’s gonna be a lot for you to handle. Lord knows we can’t let the town find out about the
incident
. What in the world would the neighbors, the country clubs members and all your friends think about your perfect daughter then? Better yet, what would they think of you?” I shout.

“Sheridan!” Mother gasps as though I have slapped her through the face.

“Oh Mother, please! Save the bullshit! You make all the arrangements and I’ll be the good little girl and do what you need done. Make it quick, I wanna to be outta here by the weekend,” I demand. I get up from the table and leave as quickly as I possibly can. I make it back to my room and collapse on the bed. It’s then the sobs escape from deep in my chest. They rack my body and are filled with hurt and anger. It feels as if this nightmare is never going to end.

Fueled by my anger, I gather all the clothes I had on the night of the
incident
and head for the backyard. I throw the clothes in the fire pit, cover them with lighter fluid and set them on fire. As I stand there, unable to stop my tears, I feel like I’m watching part of myself incinerate into smoke and disappear into nothingness. Part of my soul is carried away in the wind and I feel empty inside. I slump to the ground and sit by the fire pit for hours, not really thinking about anything. I feel so numb, it’s as if part of me has died. I’m jerked back to earth when Mother comes to the back door and says Donna is on the phone insisting to speak to me.

“Hey chick, your momma said you’ve been sick. I’ve been worried about ya,” I hear Donna’s spunky voice on the other end of the phone.

“I’m fine. I think it’s a virus or something,” I lie.

“Are ya sure? You sound really strange.”

“Yeah, I still feel a little rough but I’ll be fine,” I try to satisfy her question.

“Yeah, yeah…you’re a lying ass. You know you’re not a good liar, Sher. You go ahead and rest up today but I am coming over tomorrow. I know something is wrong,” she persists. I remain silent. “I’ll see ya tomorrow, love ya,” she says before hanging up.

I retreat to my room again, not wanting to deal with anything or anyone. What will I tell Donna tomorrow? I know I can’t lie, she will know. I can’t tell her the truth either. I have to keep the dirty little secret. I’ll deal with it tomorrow. It’s just too much right now. I feel mentally and physically exhausted. I let sleep claim me, thinking it would be best if I never woke up again.

I awake to a knock on my bedroom door. There is no sunlight coming in the window. It’s night. Mother enters my room with a plate of food, “Sheridan, I hope you know how much I love you. The New York idea was just that, an idea. If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to.” She hands me the plate of food and I set it on the nightstand.

“No, Mother. It’s for the best. Like I told you before, please have all the arrangements ready by the end of the week,” I coldly request.

She hands me the plate of food and I grudgingly take it. “No, Mother. It’s for the best. Like I told you before, please have all the arrangements ready by the end of the week,” I coldly request.

“You haven’t eaten all day, you have to keep up your strength or you will make yourself physically ill.” I begin pushing the food around on it, more to shut her up than for any other reason.

Mother goes back downstairs and I’m glad she’s gone. I set the plate back down and try to fall back to sleep but it doesn’t work this time. I find myself replaying that night in my head. The party. The
rape
. I try to find the spot where it all went wrong. I hear Mother’s questions the next morning. I hear her telling me how she wants to hide me away in New York. I hear and relive it all over and over. I really wonder if my mother has ever loved anyone but herself.

The next morning,
I wake to the sound of the doorbell ringing. The sun coming through my window is making me squint. I’m trying to wake completely up when Donna bounds through my bedroom door, “You look like shit! What the hell is goin’ on?” I sit up in bed and wipe my sleepy eyes. Donna comes over and flops down on the bed, “Come on Sheridan. What gives?”

“I’ve not felt well. There’ve been a lot of things going on. I’m just tired and overwhelmed,” I mutter.

“What things have been going on?”

I decide its best to come clean with my upcoming plans for New York but not tell her why. I explain that by the end of the week I will be moving to New York City and that this fall I will be attending Berkeley. I tell her that Mother and Carter feel like this will be best for me.

Donna is shocked and I see a distinct look of hurt in her eyes, “But I thought we were goin’ to UK together. I thought we were gonna rent an apartment in Lexington and do this thing together.” The tears are welling up in my eyes as she speaks. I try to fight them back. I wanna tell her that’s what I want to but Mother wants to hide me. Hide the family’s dirty little secret. The tears are stronger than me and they begin to take over.

Donna grabs me and holds me tight, “Sheridan, what is it? What aren’t you telling me?” I don’t answer. “If you tell me, maybe I can help,” Donna begins to cry with me.

“I can’t. No one can help. No one,” I sob. I pull myself together and sit back, “You could come with me. I’ll have an apartment there and I’m sure Carter could get ya a spot at Berkeley for the fall semester.”

A look of shock crosses her face, “Me, in New York City? I can’t. I have my summer job here. I have all my classes scheduled for next semester and my parents would kill me.” I’m enormously disappointed but I know she’s right. She can’t uproot her life to hide the dirty little secret. She doesn’t have a secret she needs to hide. She not…
dirty
. We continue to talk for quite some time. Before Donna leaves, she hugs me tight again, “You know you can tell me anything. When you’re ready, I will be right here for you. I love ya, Sher.”

I mindlessly walk through the next couple of days. Packing and readying things for my move. It’s feels like it’s someone else going through the motions. I feel disconnected from myself, from my life. On Friday morning, I pack all the things I’m taking into my BMW. I’ll be driving to New York so I’ll have my car. Mother and Carter are going to fly up and have everything ready when I get there.

Donna comes by to see me off. I try to convince her, again, to come with me. She declines and reminds me that she will always be here for me. As I drive away, I feel like I’m leaving the one person who gives a damn about me. The one person who would do anything for me. I’ve lost so much over the last week, leaving her behind is almost unbearable. Then, Mother’s words ring in my head and I know I have to go.