January (Calendar Girl #1) Anthology Anthology (82 page)

Turning around, I waved. “Catch up with you later on, okay?”

Both of them waved, and I turned, walking across the vast lawn to Christine.

As I sidestepped men in tuxes and women in the latest couture fashions, I thought about what they’d said. They loved me, and I was their family. Two people I’d only known for a month claimed me as theirs. As family. Clearly, not the family I’d been born into; that would have been impossible, but by choice.

Friends are the family you choose.

Like Tai, Tony, and Hector had, they all in some way referred to me as their family. Wes and Alec were totally different when it came to their connection to me. With the other guys, that beyond anything solved the weariness and the concern I had over making this year-long journey. The part that was meant to be was the people I was taking into my heart, into my soul. The men and women that would stay with me…that would add to what was now
my family
. They were the reason for this journey as much, if not more than the debt I needed to pay. Before, it had been me, Pops, Maddy, and Ginelle. Aunt Millie, of course, was there somewhat. But these people, they were the ones I now checked in with. Told funny stories to over the phone. Emailed. Thought about when I was in a place or saw something that reminded me of them. The same way a person did with their own flesh and blood, only better because they had
chosen
me.

With a renewed sense of peace, I walked into Christine’s arms. The tiny, pregnant, sex maniac was all smiles and billowy hair. The slip dress she wore accented the small baby bump her hand rested over. I yanked her hand away and turned her to the side.

“Holy smokes. I can see your bump!” I said and she nodded vigorously.

Excitedly, her words came fast. “I know! Isn’t it amazing! It just popped out a couple days ago and all of a sudden you could see the proof of Franny’s and my love. We find out what we’re having in a week!”

Speaking of Francis Benoit, he came up behind his wife and placed his hand over her stomach. “How’s my pumpkin and our little one?” Christine’s eyes lit up like a hundred candles on a birthday cake. It was clear in her body language how much she genuinely loved her husband, hugging him tighter to her, caressing his hand over her bump. It was odd, unconventional, and definitely weird to see someone over forty years older than she was gorging on her neck, but hey, who was I to judge? Okay, maybe I was judging a little bit. In my defense, anyone in their right mind would.

“I was just telling Mia about how we’re going to find out about the baby.” He nodded and kissed her temple. “Also, Mia, everything is in place for the project on our end.”

My eyes went wide. “Already?”

“Yep, Franny and I know how important this cause is. We burned some midnight oil this past week and paid a few workers some overtime, but everything on our end is in place. When the product and people arrive, we’ll plan for setting up the shipping schedule to the UK.” 

I ran my hand through my hair and held it back. “I can’t believe you did that. Does Warren know?”

“Just finished telling him. He’s looking for you by the way. Everything okay between you?” Francis asked, uncharacteristically intrusive for a man like him.

“Perfectly okay. Thank you for asking.” I said a couple more congrats about the baby and the job, and scanned the area looking for Warren. My gaze landed on perfection in a tux instead. Senator Aaron Shipley’s eyes were all over me. For a moment, I appreciated the obvious praise as he pushed evenly through other guests, steadily getting closer. A full tumbler of amber liquid accompanied him. About ten feet away, he lifted the glass to his lips and drained the entire lot. His eyes were glassy and hard, all traces of the sexy man I’d met earlier in the month gone. In his place was the predator that had touched me in my sleep.

Shit.

“Pretty, pretty, Mia. Looks as though your date has chosen another to fill his dance card.” His lips pursed as he came closer and put a hand on my hip, his fingers tightening.

I tried to push back, but he locked an arm around my waist. Making a scene to pry his hands off me wasn’t an option. He was the Senator for California and I was nobody. I was a nameless face that had been attached to his father for the last few weeks.

“Can you let me go?” I pressed against his chest trying to squeeze out of his grip. No dice. He held me tight.

“Come now, Mia. I just received the news that my father has been fucking my nanny for as long as my mother’s been dead. Hell, possibly before. I’m in no mood for your antics.”

I shook my head. “That’s not true. That connection formed over decades. Talk to him, Aaron. Let him tell you how it came about.”

His lips pinched together into white slits. He was walking us through the crowd, his grip bruising against the tender skin of my hip. I looked over my shoulder and caught Rachel’s eye way in the distance. She looked concerned and her hand went to Mason’s shoulder as she stared my way. Unfortunately, he was busy talking to a group of men that might be fans. Talking to the star pitcher of the Boston Red Sox was a big deal even if you were a ridiculously rich man and fan. Not to mention, it might open the doors to prospective new deals for advertising and sponsorship.

Before I knew it, I was steered past the green lawn, through the charity vendors camped around the lawns and up the stone steps. Eventually, he ushered me up past the columns of the New York Library. The library was closed and dark. Several areas had blacked out corners, which was where Aaron was leading me.

Finally, my champagne-filled brain realized that we weren’t going for a little walk. He was taking me somewhere and intent on whatever plan he had. I turned my heel and yanked out of his reach. “What the hell, Aaron?” I spread my hands out and looked around. There was absolutely no one in sight. We were at least a good couple hundred feet or more away and I cursed myself for allowing him to get me this far away from the party and witnesses.

“You think you’re special, don’t you?” The words were released with barely contained venom.

I shook my head and tried to sound calm. “Not at all, actually. The opposite is probably more true,” I admitted.

He scowled and prowled forward until I was holding up my hands in front of me. He continued forward and I found myself pressed up against the concrete wall of a darkened area. A few more steps and his chest was against mine. I thought about the best way to handle this, but the champagne was fogging up my reflexes. “Aaron, you don’t want to do this.”

His nose slid along my temple and sent shivers of dread down my spine, prickling the hairs at the back of neck. “Of course I do.” I pushed against his chest to no avail. Aaron was not a small guy and his bulk definitely prevented any slack. He chuckled. “Trying to escape, little whore,” he said with a drunken slur.

“I’m not a whore, Aaron. You know that.”

He bit down on the space where my shoulder and neck met. “I know my father hired you to be his whore in front of his fucked up rich friends. I know that you work for an escort service and get paid by the month. Time to get Daddy’s money’s worth,” he said dementedly. That’s when I started to fight, but I didn’t have much leverage. I got a nice fist to his mouth, cutting open his lip before he restrained my hands with one hand, and then groped my body with the other. He crushed my body against the concrete wall, so hard that I could feel the tender skin of my back being abraded and the skin being rubbed raw as he dry humped me.

I started to scream, but he put his mouth over mine. All you could hear was a person yelling as if they were under water. Then the sickening sound of his pants being unbuckled and the noise of the zipper going down was like my own personal death knell. I screamed louder but he bit my lips and slammed my head into the concrete. Things got hazy, and I felt my dress being slid up to my waist. The cool air slithered across my bare flesh. Stars broke out across my vision from the staggering blow. Soft tissue slamming into a rock solid building did not equate to mental stability. I could feel fingers sliding down my stomach where he cupped my sex roughly. Bile rose up my throat, and I gagged.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, take you like the whore you are. Fucking white trash.” He roared, spittle flinging against my face. He was not the man I’d originally met when I arrived. He wasn’t the same man with whom I’d enjoyed a few conversations, flirted with. No, this man was much like the one that touched me while I’d slept and had no remorse. That was my first clue that something was deeply wrong with the young Senator.

I could feel the head of his cock resting against my legs as he ground it along my thigh. I whispered, “No,” and shook my head only to receive a gut-twisting grin in reply. He put a hand over my mouth as I screamed, muffling the sound. I bit down, and he cursed then smashed my head into the wall again. This time, I slumped against the surface, my body feeling almost weightless. I was going to lose consciousness and then he’d take me. Maybe that was better. Not knowing what he was doing had to be better than being awake for every disgusting thing he would do to me. At that moment, I prayed for blackness.

Chapter 10

“You ready to get pounded?” It was the last thing I heard, and said with absolute disdain. I wouldn’t have thought it possible to come from the young Senator that the world adored. A man that was on the fast track to becoming President of the United States one day.

I waited for him to strike; instead, a burst of cool air covered my skin. My body was free from the weight that had pressed it into the wall. Scuffling, followed by grunting, and feet scraping along concrete could be vaguely heard through the pounding of my head and heart. My knees bit into the concrete sidewalk when I slumped to the ground, unable to hold myself up.

“I’ll show you what getting pounded looks like, you piece of shit!” Mason roared. I looked up, confusion swarming like angry bees around my head as I saw Mason in a full-blown cage-style fight with Aaron. At some point Aaron must have gotten his pants back up because this fight lacked bare chests, the punches thrown were instead by two stunningly attractive men in tuxedos. I blinked as I saw Rachel running through the throngs of people in the distance, her heels crunching in the gravel then clacking loudly up the stone stairs.

“Oh my God! Mason, where’s Mia?” she screamed and I tried to respond, but my voice wouldn’t work. One too many blows to the head had temporarily robbed me of speech.

Mason threw a punch that landed solidly on Aaron’s face. Blood sprayed out of his mouth and across the gray concrete, painting it red. My eyes rolled in my head and I knew I was going to be sick. I gagged and heard Mason say something, but I couldn’t distinguish it. I lay down on the damp, cool stone, pressing the side of my face and temple into it, needing relief from the pain taking over every speck of my form. Swirling volcanic acid in my gut squeezed my insides violently as vomit made its way up my throat. I wretched, barely able to move or lift my head.

“Mia, oh no. Jesus, honey.” Rachel’s voice penetrated the web of disorientation, and I felt her lifting my upper body onto her lap where she knelt. “Babe, she’s naked from the waist down and hurt.” She pushed my dress down, covering the bare lower half. Her fingers prodded lightly at the wounds on my back and the sticky substance on my head. Seems the library wall took more than a chunk out of my back. “She needs a hospital,” Rachel cried out, her voice shaking. A mighty growl and fierce blows of flesh meeting bone could be heard in the distance. Fat wet drops of something hit my cheeks, one of them trailing down and touching my lip. I licked the salty flavor realizing it was Rachel’s tears. Rachel leaned close and kissed my forehead. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll take care of you.”

At some point, the blackness finally took me.

***

The acrid smell of hospital anesthetic weaved its way into my senses. I licked dry lips and tasted nothing but a rough cotton sensation. Before my eyes even opened, a straw tapped against my lips, and I sucked the water greedily. The cut in my swollen lip—where Aaron had bit into the flesh—smarted. I opened my eyes to find Rachel tending to me. My hand felt warm and a weight pressed into my side. I looked down at the blankets and found coppery hair, and a large hand encasing mine. The knuckles were ripped with jagged edges and rimmed with blood. I moved my hand and dove my fingers into the silky goodness that was Mason’s hair.

He lifted his head slowly and his green eyes were dark and sad. I cracked as much of a smile as my swollen lip would allow. He held my hand and kissed my palm. “How you feeling, sweetness?”

I blinked a few times and took a mental assessment of my body. Knees felt bruised, back hurt like the fiery flaming pits of hell, but the bass drum in my head was the worst. “Did he...?” I stopped, unable to say the words.

Rachel petted the top of my hair, repeatedly whisking back the layer of swooping bangs, tears running down her face. Mason clenched his jaw and shook his head. “No, he didn’t. Thank God. Had he….” His face hardened into an evil look, one I’d not ever seen on Mason before. It was a cross between malice and pure hate. “I’d have killed him with my bare hands. As it is, he’s in pretty bad shape. Cops arrested him for assault. He can kiss his fucking career bye-bye.”

I closed my eyes and let the tears fall. “God, I wish I would have done something more when I woke up to him fondling me in my sleep…”

“WHAT!” Mason’s yell was so loud that the drummer in my head decided it was crescendo time and pounded so hard, I had to press my hands against my temples. Both palms felt sore and achy.

“Mace…” Rachel clasped Mason’s arm and shushed him. “Her head, baby,” she reminded him. “A concussion doesn’t feel good and she’s in pain; I can see it on her face.”

Mason leaned forward and kissed my entire forehead. I had to admit, it felt really nice after the shitty evening I’d had. The tears though couldn’t be stopped. They ran in rivulets down my cheeks. The skin of my face itched against the deluge of tears. He spoke words of comfort along my skin, whispering that he was going to take care of me. That family takes care of one another.