Look After You (11 page)

Chapter 10

Walking up the steps to my mother’s mansion home, I can feel the vibrations under my feet as the pounding music practically rattles through the house. My brother must be having one of his, ‘parties of the year’ which he throws at least four times a year. A shiver crawls slowly up my spine at the thought of him as I approach the glass covered double doors. I take a deep breath as I take a hold of the gold door handle that reverberates against my fingers, counting down from three before I enter the pandemonium.

Three, two, one...enter.

My heart beats erratically against my chest as I squeeze past the drunken idiots, despising the very feel of their sweaty heated bodies pushing and practically clawing against mine. I fight among the limbs of others desperately wanting to get back to the surroundings of my bedroom. The only room he doesn’t come in.

Thankfully, I don’t see him as I climb over the comatose junkies, slide past couples sucking face, and kick my way through drunken perverts as I make my way up the stairs. I look over my shoulder in rising panic as I continue down the hallway until I finally reach my bedroom. I put the key inside the lock and turn it, opening my door. I breathe out a sigh of relief once I’m inside my dark room. Just as I’m locking myself inside my safe haven for the night, I feel two hands curl around my waist, and I yelp out a scream of absolute terror. My heart is hammering beneath my skin as a hand covers my screaming mouth, the sound of chuckling pressed up against my ear.

“Shh, it’s just me.” Tears fill my terrified eyes as shivers convulse through my entire body at the sound of his voice. He isn’t supposed to be here. He doesn’t come in here. My door was locked. I don’t understand how he got in. I got the lock specifically for this very reason. I knew it would’ve only been a matter of time...

“I missed you, where have you been?” I squeeze my eyes shut in disgust as I feel his lips nuzzle against my neck, the cool air of his mouth sending disturbing chills against my skin. I clench and grind my teeth against my jaw, anger coursing through every vein of my body. My hands feel clammy with sweat, my mouth feels dry of saliva and even as I try to swallow, my throat seems to tighten up, restricting my breathing. A whimper escapes and I feel something hard against my back as he pushes his hips into me. His hand spreads along my stomach, continuing downward, pursuing
towards my groin area. Bile rises from my stomach as my heart continues to thrash against my chest.

“Well?” The room begins to spin as a heat covers me like a blanket when he cups the most private part of my body. He isn’t supposed to be in here. I want to make him stop, but I am too weak. He has made me weak.

“Out,” I manage to croak out of my trapped vocal chords. He spins me around, so I am facing him, with my back against the door. The moment I have to look into those evil eyes of his through the shadows of darkness I can’t breathe. It feels like all my internal organs are shutting down on me, one at a time and I can’t feel anything. I am numb.

“Out?” he questions as he strokes against my stomach with his fingertips. He sounds almost angry. I just nod pathetically; a little afraid of what he might say to me.
“Who with?”

My teeth chatter together as I shake my head, my entire body is shaking in fear.
“Nobody.” I slam my eyes shut as I try to hold the tears without them rolling down my face. I can’t show him how weak he makes me feel.

“Are you lying to me?” he spits in my face as I shudder at his wrath. I just shake my head hysterically. I am not lying. I really was on my own. I don’t have any friends. He doesn’t allow me to. He has me trapped.

“Have you been out fucking?” he whispers, spitefully. He knows me. He knows I don’t fuck around. I haven’t been with anybody ever, and he knows that. He is the only person who has ever touched me, and the thought of where his unwanted hands have touched makes me feel sick. He is sick.

“No…I promise,” I stammer urgently as tears spill out from my eyes. I take a strained gulp at the terrifying man that is staring down at me with an obvious look of lust.

“Good, because you’re mine.” He looks up and down my body and the gaze alone has me quaking in my boots. It’s a look of pure evil, and I hate how vulnerable his look makes me feel. Then his hands trace my curves, squeezing every bump and lump against my body. I clamp my eyes shut as his fingers begin to un-zip my jeans. I desperately urge myself not to vomit all over myself as the bile continues to rise.

Oh no, please no, no, no…

Then all my worse nightmares come all at once.

“My gorgeous Ava...
”

I jerk up out of bed, screaming hysterically. Sweat is drenched through my pajamas; my heartbeat is accelerating in my chest as I look around the room, looking for him. I cry hysterically as I see
him
, see him touching me…

I shiver with a cool sweat as Caleb runs into my bedroom frantically, with only a tiny towel wrapped around his waist, with water still dripping down his body, the sound of the shower still running down the hall.

“Ava! What’s wrong?” I claw at my face with my hands, sobbing against my fingers. It’s been years since I’ve had that dream. What the hell? Why am I suddenly being haunted by that vision, again? It was bad enough to live through it the first time. I feel Caleb’s strong arms wrap around my body, but with the vision of
his
arms around me still fresh in my mind, I stiffen and bolt out of Caleb’s arms, running into my en-suite, slamming the door shut as the terrors continue to replay in my mind. I stumble into the bathtub, turning the shower on at the press of a button, yelping out loud as the icy water thrashes against my face and body. I allow the water to assault my face, mixed in with my tears as sobs gurgle from my mouth. I turn away so my back is pressed against the cold tiled wall and I shrink down inside the tub, the water soaking through my pajamas as shakes convulse through my body, goose bumps shuddering against my skin as the cold water covers every inch of me.

I sense a body coming into the bathtub. I know it
’s only Caleb, but I can’t help but cower into the very corner of the acrylic bath. I sink my head into my knees as I try desperately to force the fucked up dream out of my head. It isn’t working. I can still see the creepy looking expression on
his
face...

I hear Caleb yelp as the freezing water covers him. He must turn the heat up on the water since it immediately begins to warm up, helping to ease my shivers. Then I feel him bend down to my level, his hand stroking gently over my soaked hair.

“Are you having nightmares again?” By nightmares, he means the post-traumatic dream where my brother raped me for the first time, took away my innocence at a mere fifteen-years-old and continued to do so until I turned eighteen, but only because I ran away from home. I can only nod through my choking cries. He reaches out for me, his fingertips stroking against my face as he comes closer, but I shudder from his touch, feeling disgusted because his touch feels like
his
. All I can see is
his
evil face. I just want it to stop.

“It’s me, Ava, I’m not going to hurt you. It’s just me.”
Caleb’s words sink in, and I know he would never hurt me. He loves me. He’s my rock. At the realization of this, I launch my soaking wet body on top of his and cry into his naked chest. I feel his soothing arms wrap around my body, his fingers caressing delicately against my back, speaking softly in my ear.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here. It’s okay.”

“I can’t get his evil face out of my head, or what he’s doing to me, it won’t go away,” I whimper through a sob,
his
evil eyes and smug smile haunting my mind as I close my eyes tight shut.

“Well, let’s get that bastard out of your pretty little head okay? Just imagine you’re on a beautiful beach, white sand between your toes, clear blue skies, the sea is a perfect color between green and blue, with the sun shining down on you. It
’s paradise, and the only thing you can hear is the crashing of the waves. Can you see it? Can you feel it?” I feel myself begin to relax in his arms as I visualize the quaint surroundings of a paradise island, somewhere like Jamaica…

Yes, Jamaica. Jamaica is perfect.

I can still see
his
face, but it is gradually fading as Caleb continues to talk in gentle tones. I can imagine the heat from the shower is the heat beaming down on me from the scorching sunshine. It actually feels wonderful. Relaxing.

“The arms you feel around you right now are Sebastian
’s, he is holding you, softly kissing your silky brown hair, whispering in your ear how much he loves you, how much he cherishes you, how much he can’t wait to marry you. He can’t wait to call you Mrs. Ava Gilbert.” I smile into Caleb’s chest. I can’t help but caress the bumps and lumps of his stomach, loving how warm he feels under my fingertips. My stomach fills with tingling butterflies, each time his mouth lingers against my hair.

“You’re watching your beautiful three-year-old daughter. She is dressed in a bright pink all-in-one swimsuit, so she doesn’t burn in the sun. She has wet curly hair that bounces perfectly against her shoulders. She is trying to build a sandcastle but instead she covers herself with the pure white sand. She giggles running in the sand, a smile so bright and beautiful it literally makes your heart melt. Then suddenly Lily comes
running over to you and says, “Mommy, can you help me make a sandcastle?” and because she asked you with such an adorable smile you couldn’t possibly dream of saying no.

“Then you stand on your own two feet and chase her around the deserted beach until you catch her and tickle her skinny under arms and ribs until she is giggling hysterically in your arms.” I laugh softly at the wonderful picture I see fold out in
front of me, of my daughter. It feels so real in my head I almost don’t want to open my eyes to the reality. So I keep my eyes closed and pray the story can continue. I cling to Caleb’s wet body as if my life depends on it. Once he finishes telling me funny anecdotes, visualizations and describing my perfect wedding day, I feel relaxed and calm. The remainders of my dream have vanished from my head and I finally open my eyes, smiling sadly at Caleb’s concerned face.

“How you feeling
?” He asks, concern circling in his eyes.

“Okay, I guess. He’s gone now.”

“Is this the first time you’ve had one in a while?”

I nod as I sit up out his arms and backcomb my wet hair with my fingers.
That’s when I notice how little he actually has on, just a drenched towel draped around his waist, covering his modesty, and I was mauling his body as if it was Sebastian’s. I’d laugh if my emotionally unstable body would let me. “Yeah, not since college. I don’t understand what triggered it. I don’t even think about him, I block him out. If I don’t, I freak out. It was so real, Caleb, I felt as if I was back there.” I wipe my wet eyes frustratingly, angry with myself for getting upset.
“God, I thought I was past this shit.” I shake my head with anger. It’s been thirteen years yet the bastard just keeps ruining my life. I hate my brother to hell and back. I feel sick to my stomach at the thought of him, of the things he did.

Even before the first time, he would give me weird looks, touch me in inappropriate places, whisper inappropriate things to me, and it was always when my mother wasn’t around. It was as if the bloom of my puberty lured him to me, but when my mother was around, which wasn’t very often by all accounts, he would act like any regular brother
.
I knew it was wrong, I knew it was evil, but I was only fifteen-years-old at the time, and I was too frightened to tell anyone in case nobody believed me. He was a very influential person. Everybody knew who he was. His status on the high school basketball team meant he was practically a celebrity in our small town in Miami, so the probability of anybody believing their precious shooting guard was abusing his little sister behind closed doors, would have been next to impossible.

He was a god in their eyes, flawless and perfect, whereas I was just plain old Ava. A loner. A geek, with an overbearing asshole broth
er who was hell bent on pushing all friends I had, out of my life.
I never understood why he did the things he did to me though. I could never understand what was so special about little old me. He had girlfriends of his own age, he was ridiculously popular, and I heard through the grapevine that he was a player, sleeping his way through half of the girls in high school. Then he took my virginity away like it was his for the taking. But once wasn’t enough for him. He kept coming back for more and continued to force himself on me, as if it was normal to be raping his fifteen-year-old sister. I must have been the only living girl on the planet, who craved their period because being on my period meant he wouldn’t touch me. I could walk around without my heart constantly thundering away in my stomach, without looking over my shoulder every second, trying to determine when or where he would come for me.

It was easier when he moved away to college, I could be myself again, only having to worry about him during the holidays and a few weekends here and there. He had even brought a girl home with him one weekend, and I desperately hoped his infatuation with me had finally stopped. I almost believed it. He was so affectionate with her, so loving, extremely loud in the bedroom. In a twisted way, I even felt happy for him. I honestly thought it had stopped, that he
’d finally leave me alone, but that was until he came into my bedroom during the second night of their stay and proved me wrong. I despised myself for being so fucking gullible and stupid that I didn’t leave my room for the rest of their stay. I was afraid that she’d be able to sense what he did to me right under her nose. That somehow she would be able smell him on me even though I scrubbed myself bloody in the hottest shower I could endure, removing all essence of him from my body. I harbored such heavy guilt that I loathed myself. She was an awesome girl, I didn’t think I could have stomached watching him with her, knowing what I knew, knowing the kind of monster she was dating.