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Addicted to Love (Bayou Devils MC Book 2) by A.M. Myers (12)


Chapter Twelve

Carly

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I scan the street for Ivy’s little blue sedan as I pull up in front of Aunt Dottie’s house but it’s nowhere to be seen and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Leave it to my sister to show up late on the night she’s supposed to introduce us to her boyfriend. Even I’m cutting it close tonight. Unless, of course, they took his car. I look around again, but my car and Dottie’s old VW Bug are the only vehicles even close to the house. The front door opens and Dottie steps out onto the porch, waving at me with a warm smile on her face. This is exactly what I need after seeing my mother last night.

“Have you heard from your sister?” she asks as I climb out of the car and I shake my head.

“No. Have you?”

She frowns, scanning the street. “No.”

“She’s probably taking her sweet ass time since there is no way you’ll lock her out tonight.”

“And why wouldn’t I?” she asks, her tone all serious and I laugh.

“Because you want to meet Julian.”

She scowls for a moment before nodding. “Yes, that’s true. I suppose she’ll get away with it tonight or maybe I’ll just let Julian in and leave her out on the porch.”

“Now, that’s just mean, Aunt Dottie.” I laugh and she flashes me a grin.

“Come on inside and I’ll get you some sweet tea.”

“Sounds perfect.” I follow her inside and she directs me to the dining room table, which is already set with some of her best china and I arch a brow as I peek into the kitchen. “Feeling nervous, Auntie?”

“Hush, girl.” She shoots me a look that makes it very clear I should drop it. I giggle as I sit down and set my bag on the floor. I’m tempted to grab my phone and text Chance since I haven’t heard from him since earlier today but even the thought of sending the message irritates me. I’m not that girl and I’m not about to become her just because I want to soak up as much time as I can with him.

“Here you go, sweetie,” she says, handing me a glass of sweet tea and I take a sip, humming in approval. I don’t know how she does it, but her sweet tea is always the best. “So, how are you?”

I shrug, focusing on the condensation on the glass. “I’m pretty good.”

“That is not the face of someone who is good.” She draws a circle in the air the size of my face and pins me with a stare.

“It’s nothing. Just my mother.”

“Oh. What’d she do this time?” Dottie knows all too well what my mother is like but she’s usually good about not talking down on her. Not that I care all that much these days but when I was a kid and still thought there might be some piece of my mother that cared about anything other than herself, it was nice Dottie kept her opinions to herself.

“I had to go to a charity thing with her yesterday and there was this guy there.”

“Let me guess. Young, handsome, and more money than God.”

I curl my lip and tilt my head from side to side. “Yes-ish on the young part. Hell, no, on the handsome part, at least to me anyway, and definitely on the money part.”

“Typical,” Dottie murmurs, shaking her head as she turns to look out the window. I follow her gaze, disappointed when I still don’t see Ivy out there.

“You should have seen the look on both of their faces when I showed up with a date.”

Her head whips back to me and she watches me with wide eyes for a second. “You took a date?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s his name?” she asks, setting her sweet tea down and leaning forward like she’s just heard the juiciest gossip. And, in a way, she has. I can’t even remember the last time I talked about a guy to her or anyone else.

“Chance.”

“And you two are…” She lets her question trail off, arching a brow and I smile as I shake my head.

“We’re… I don’t know. We’re nothing but still…something. All I really know is we have a shelf life and it’s the only reason I’m allowing things to continue.”

She sighs and slumps back in her chair. I’ve lost count of the number of times Aunt Dottie has tried to get me to try dating again but I always refuse. “And why does it have a shelf life?”

“Because it’s doomed from the start, anyway.”

“Child, it would break your daddy’s heart to hear you talk like this. What happened to you all those years ago was horrific, I won’t even deny that, but you can move on. You can find someone who loves you the way you deserve, the way your daddy would have wanted you to be loved.”

Reaching across the table, I lay my hand on hers and shake my head. “Dottie, I love you and I appreciate what you’re saying but I have moved on. This is me after moving on and love is just not in the cards for me.”

She forces a smile to her face and nods, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “You know I won’t push you, but I just wish you would go see someone or consider giving love a chance again. Those boys, they were awful, but they were also young and who knows the men they are today.”

“I don’t want to talk about this tonight. Please, Aunt Dottie.”

She pats my hand with her other hand and nods. “Of course. Why don’t you tell me about work? How is the new job treating you?”

Pushing the memories from my mind, I smile and nod. “Really great, actually. I’ve always loved the writing part and now that I’m at Champagne Dreaming, I love my work environment and the people there. I would love to find something special I could do that would really put my stamp on the blog. Kind of like Alison’s advice column.”

“I’m sure you’ll find your thing, Honey. When the time is right.”

I smile. Dottie is all about someone’s energy and the time being right and listening to your instincts. She rarely worries over things the way other people do because she believes the universe will just work itself out. I used to think it was weird, but I’ve learned to listen to her advice over the years.

The ringing of my phone pulls both of our attention to my bag and I grab it, rolling my eyes when I see Ivy’s name on the screen.

“Let me guess, you’re running late,” I answer and I’m greeted with silence.

“Uh, actually,” she says after a moment. “We can’t make it tonight.”

“What do you mean you can’t make it tonight?” I ask, meeting Dottie’s eyes as her eyebrows shoot up. “You haven’t ever missed a Sunday dinner.”

“I know. It’s just…we, uh, we have something we have to go do tonight. Next time, okay?”

“Ivy…” I start but the line goes dead and I pull the phone away from my ear as I stare at Dottie.

“She’s not coming? You girls never miss this night, not once in twelve years.”

I glance down at my phone before setting it on the table, face down. “She said they had something to do tonight and she’d bring him next week.”

“I don’t like this,” Dottie says, shaking her head as she chews her lip. “Something is definitely up with this guy she’s seeing. I knew it as soon as she told me.”

“We don’t know anything yet, Dot,” I point out, to placate her but it’s like she’s not even listening to me. “Maybe they really had something to do or maybe she got nervous. You know this was important to her.”

“We can’t trust this guy. I mean, twelve years without missing a single family dinner and then she meets him and stops showing up. I don’t think so.”

“Dottie,” I whisper, unsure of what to say to her.

“What if he hurts her? How could I live through it again if I let her get hurt, too?”

Tears well up in my eyes as memories threaten to overwhelm me and this time, I can’t stop them. “You couldn’t have stopped them from hurting me.”

“I should have,” she exclaims, her eyes meeting mine in a steely stare and a tear slips down my cheek. “Your mother didn’t want me around you girls, but I should have told her exactly where she could stick it. You needed me and I wasn’t there for you. Look what they did to you.”

I stand abruptly and my chair falls backward as I grab my phone and my bag from the floor. “I have to go. I’ll see you next week.”

“Carly! Wait,” she calls as I walk away from her, but I don’t look back, my chest tight as I run from the house to my car. Firing it up, I fly out of the driveway and away from her house as snapshots from that night flash through my mind. I suppose I should be thankful for them – the snapshots. It’s all I have of that night, little pieces of time that make no sense whatsoever. I don’t know how I would have survived if I remembered every painful detail. Tears blur my vision as I pull onto the interstate and I grit my teeth, trying to fight back the memories but it’s a losing battle.

When I was sixteen, my mother met Harrison, husband number three. Harrison lived in Baton Rouge and my mother wasted no time in moving all three of us away from New Orleans to be with her new beau. It was the only home I had ever known and it felt like I was leaving everything I loved behind - my friends, Aunt Dottie, and my father, even though he had been dead for almost ten years. It was also about the time Ivy and I saw the truth about our mother. We understood this would be a pattern with her and we resented her for it.

Harrison, the nice guy he was, pulled some strings and got us into a very prestigious private school because only the best would do for my mother. It was so different from what I was used to and I felt so alone. My world had been twisted until I didn’t even know which way was up anymore. On my second day of school, Austin Mitchel, one of the cutest, most popular boys at school, approached me at my locker and introduced himself. He had a smile that put me at ease and he invited me to eat lunch with him and his friends. Just like that, I had a place again. For two weeks, he walked me to most of my classes and we talked about anything and everything. I felt like he really got me and when he finally asked me out, I was over the moon.

Of course, so was my mother.

The Mitchels came from old money and their name held a certain level of prestige in this town so she made it her business to make sure he and I really hit it off. For our first date, he took me to dinner and a movie. He was sweet and funny without being too over the top and it was easy to be with him. By the time he walked me to my door, I was head over heels in the way only a teenager can be. He kissed me goodnight and the next day at school, he asked me to be his girlfriend. At sixteen years old, I thought he was perfect. He treated me like a princess, made me laugh and with him by my side, my new life didn’t feel so daunting. I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world.

Things were hot and heavy for us, but Austin was so patient – he never pushed me for sex and always told me he was happy to wait until I was ready. It was a relief after some of the horror stories I’d heard about other guys at our school and after seven months of dating, I gave him my virginity. On the night we first had sex, my mom and Harrison were out at some function and Ivy was at a friend’s house so I invited him over and we went up to my room. He was just as sweet and attentive as he’d always been and it was the most magical night of my life. I decided that this was the man for me, my one true love but everything after that night went downhill.

Austin pulled away from me. It wasn’t instant or obvious but little by little, I was seeing less of him and our interactions were a little more strained. I was terrified I would lose him and I was ready to do whatever it took to keep him. One day after school, I cornered him and forced him to talk to me. He admitted he’d been so stressed with school and stuff going on at home that he’d been shutting everyone out. I’ll never forget the relief that washed through me when he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me into his body, planting his lips on my forehead. He told me he was sorry and invited me to a party at one of his friend’s houses that weekend.

The night of the party, I showed up in the sexiest dress I owned, which admittedly wasn’t all that sexy but I felt beautiful in it and Austin’s face lit up when he saw me so I was on top of the world, ready to dance and have fun with my boyfriend. The last thing I can remember is sipping on my drink while Austin and I danced to Candy Shop by 50 Cent. From there, things get fuzzy and I only have little snippets of memories that don’t really make a whole lot of sense. It’s still, to this day, confusing and impossible to piece together.

When I woke up the next morning, I was back in my bed and my body hurt, everywhere. It was a pain unlike anything I’d ever felt, before or since, and I knew something was wrong, but I had no idea how much my life would change. I hobbled into the bathroom and positioned myself in front of the mirror, not at all prepared for the sight that met me. Dark circular bruises covered my arms and thighs and my chest and neck were covered in hickeys. There was dried blood on the inside of my legs and a dark ring around my neck like someone had strangled me. Gasping, I fell to the tile floor and sobbed, my mind going crazy as I tried to piece together the night before but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remember what happened.

Ivy found me twenty minutes later, still curled up on the bathroom floor, crying my eyes out. She screamed for our mother and sat down beside me with tears freely flowing down her cheeks as she tried desperately to comfort me. It was also the only time I ever saw tears in my mother’s eyes. They didn’t spill down her cheeks, but they were there for a moment before she gathered me up and rushed me to the emergency room. We sat there for hours in a little room, hidden behind drapes, as they ran test after test on me and asked me questions I had no answers for. And then they walked into the room. If I close my eyes, I can still see their faces just as clearly as I did that day, so somber as they told me what I already knew.

I had been raped.

With tears streaming down my face, I pull into my parking spot and turn off the car, trying desperately not to think of that time in my life but it’s no use. The floodgate has been opened and I’m drowning in horrors I would do anything to forget. My phone buzzes from the cup holder and I glance over at it, sighing when I see it’s a text from Chance instead of Aunt Dottie. I know she didn’t mean to upset me, but I can’t talk to her right now.

 

Chance:

Something came up.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

 

Sobbing harder, I toss the phone aside and rest my forehead on the wheel, trying to ignore how upset I am by the fact that he’s not here to wrap his arms around me and tell me it’s all going to be okay.

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