Dove Page 7

  Blinking, he nodded. “Downstairs. I’ll go fetch it for you.”

  He was back almost instantly. I scrunched my nose at the dirty cloth but quickly took it and ran it under the cold water, soaking it before I made my way back to Ren.

  Sean left us to it as I sat beside my sister and wiped over her pretty face, praying to a God that hated me to help Ren through the worst. When Sean reappeared, he passed me a steaming mug of tea. I stared at it, unable to reach out to take it from him. Such a simple thing, but hot tea was a treat. Sometimes if we were lucky we’d spot someone tossing away a half-full takeaway cup and manage to snatch it back out of the waste before it leaked out, but it was rare. So to be handed a fresh, steaming hot cup, especially made for me saw the last of my resolve evaporating and brought tears to my eyes.

  “Hey.” Sean sat beside me on the edge of the bed and pulled me to him with an arm around my shoulder.

  It felt good to be held. Good to have a protective arm around me instead of me trying to be strong. It felt good to allow someone else to take over and let the small, frightened girl out to be emotional and weak. For nine months I had buried any weakness, suffering to stay strong for Ren, but for five minutes, I let go, allowed the pain and the misery to break from the chains I’d bolted them down with.

  Sean’s hand gently slid up and down my back, comforting me as I cried like a small child. His strong chest felt safe, and for the first time in so long I felt secure.

  “Let’s get some paracetamol into Ren then we’ll settle you down for a decent night’s sleep. You’re exhausted, Dove.”

  I nodded, unable to speak with the clog of emotion in my throat. He gave me a smile then pulled a couple of small white tablets from his pocket. It took both of us to force them down her, and Sean eventually broke them into four pieces. Ren finally swallowed the pills and drifted back to sleep.

  “She needs antibiotics, Dove,” Sean said when I followed him down the stairs.

  “I know but I can’t afford them.” Drugs, mainly antibiotics and prescription strength painkillers, were sold by various dodgy fuckers, but they were sold at an impossible price.

  Sean regarded me closely as he sat next to me on the cheap, threadbare sofa. “How old are you, Dove?”

  Usually I didn’t divulge any personal information about me or Ren but Sean was risking a lot by putting us up for the night so I felt obliged to answer him. “Fifteen.”

  He nodded in understanding. “That’s why you’re scared of social services.”

  “Yes.” I took a sip of the amazing sweet tea. “They’ll take Ren away from me.”

  He nodded again. His expression made my heartbeat stutter for a moment. I couldn’t work out why I was so apprehensive around him. He was helping me but I had learned the hard way to trust my instincts, and right then they were telling me I needed to be wary. Licking his lips, he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes on me. “I can get you some antibiotics for Ren.”

  My mouth fell open, my blood roaring with anticipation. “You can?” Eagerness was open on my face, the hope in me obvious as my eyes locked onto his. I started to pant with anticipation. If I could just get a few days’ antibiotics inside her, just enough to kick start her own antibodies then I knew she could fight the rest of the infection herself. She was so malnourished and weak that her frail little body was unable to fight for itself.

  He clicked his tongue and sighed again. “I can…” he drawled slowly. “However, they come at a cost.”

  The hope that had begun to smoulder died into embers, my heart rate plummeting. “I don’t have money, Sean.”

  He grimaced. “I know, and unfortunately I’m not in a position financially to help you either or I would. Believe me, I would.”

  Tears filled my eyes once again. “She’s going to die, isn’t she?” My voice was so quiet, fear trapping my throat, I didn’t think he’d heard me.

  He closed his eyes, unable to answer my statement with honesty. He twisted his head, turning away from me. “I do know someone who is willing to supply you without cash.”

  My mouth dried with apprehension as my belly twisted with new hope. I knew. I knew exactly what Sean meant.

  And the answer came from me easily. When your baby sister is on death’s door and the cost of keep her alive is losing your soul for ten minutes, then I know every single person in the world would have uttered the very same words.

  “Please contact whoever,” I answered almost immediately.

  Sean’s face shot to mine, his eyes narrow. “You do understand what I’m saying, Dove? What currency they deal in?”

  I gulped as ice trickled into the marrow of my bones. “Sex,” I whispered.

  He watched me for a moment. It was in that moment that I understood exactly who Sean was and why he had brought me to this house. Why he had watched me closely every time I was at the shelter, and why he had refused me a bed there and then offered me one out of the ‘goodness of his heart’. But it didn’t deter my decision. Nothing could. For over nine months I had strived and fought daily. I had taken beatings to stop Ren and I being raped. My things had been stolen on numerous occasions. Ren and I had fought the most insane cold temperatures, and baked until we were delirious in the heat of the sun. We had had to live on rations that were so meagre they wouldn’t have kept a dog nourished.

  And then, right then, I gave in.

  Something died within me that day. Hope. The courage I’d always held onto perished and crumbled under the weight of my despair. I wasn’t innocent. Innocence had left me long ago, but I had my pride up until then. Yet my pride was a small price to pay for my sister’s life, to keep her breathing. Call me selfish, but I would never have survived the cruelty of life without her. She was my soul, she was my heart, and she was everything good in the world. So long as Ren was safe and protected then I would sell my soul.

  Which I did.

  “Are you sure?” Sean asked quietly. “There will be no going back from this, Dove. You will be owned.”

  Swallowing back the vomit that was bubbling like acid in my throat, I narrowed my eyes on him. “Ren will be left alone?”

  He gave me an immediate nod. “Yes. She’s a child.”

  I wanted to argue that in every aspect so was I, but I knew at fifteen, to them, to the many depraved bastards out there, I was ripe for the taking. “Will you guarantee her safety?”

  Once again he answered me instantly. “Yes.”

  Moving my eyes away from him, I focussed on a patch of dirt engrained in the carpet. And then I nodded. A simple nod that meant the acceptance of something much bigger. “Ren needs those drugs. I will do whatever is necessary.”

  Sean nodded, pulling a phone out of his pocket. “You will no longer be on the street. You nor Ren. I think you’re making a wise decision, Dove.”

  I scoffed. “Of course you think that. You get commission for every girl you pass over.”

  He quirked a brow at me, his previous kind character now drowned under the real him. “You’re very astute for your age.”

  I didn’t answer him. I couldn’t. Nausea had taken away any ability to speak.

  Oliver Barden was tall, towering at least a foot and a half over me. His neck was covered in sinister tattoos and his muscles strained under the restriction of his clothing, but strangely, he had the softest eyes I had ever seen. The warm blue was a grave contradiction to the cold malevolence seeping potently from him.

  He stood before me, his fingers tightly holding onto the penicillin I was almost salivating for. A tight smile covered his face as his eyes roamed the length of my body when I stood before him.

  He tipped his head left then right, observing his new possession before he gave Sean a stiff nod. “Perfect.”

  Sean grinned, pleased with himself when Oliver slipped a roll of cash from his pocket and handed it to him. “I told you she was. Been watching her for a while.”

  I wanted to snap my face to Sean and snarl at him but I was locked under the ferocious gaze
of my new owner. As if he could feel my fury, his lips curled into a mocking smirk. “Simmer down, tiger.”

  I was already struggling to breathe – and I knew things were going to get much worse.

  Holding up the drugs, he grinned at me. “How hungry are you, pretty thing?”

  My mouth watered and I tried to snatch for the small bag but Oliver moved it away quickly. The chuckle he released made my blood boil but I bit back my dignity and stared up into his eyes. “Please. My sister is desperate.”

  He shrugged. “And how desperate are you?”

  “I know what I have to do, but please, just let me give her the first dose and then… and then…”

  His laughter grew louder with my inability to speak aloud what was coming. “There’s no room for shame here. Shame will be fucked out of you. Do you understand that?”

  I wasn’t sure if he was mocking or actually serious, warning me what my life would be like. As if giving me an opportunity to change my mind, he stood silently waiting. My mouth was so dry I wondered if I would ever feel my teeth again. “Yes,” I wheezed. “I understand.”

  “Just so I’m positive you know what you’re buying,” he uttered as he took another step towards me, his closeness making my skin tingle with nerves, “I want to hear you beg. I want to see just how much of yourself you’re willing to sell in exchange for what I have.”

  I snapped my eyes to his, my brow furrowed. “What? You want me to… to beg?”

  Was this guy for real? I was giving him my soul in exchange for a few fucking pills. That hardly seemed like an equal trade.

  “Everything has a price, Dove.” His voice was deathly cold, his lips pulled back into a cruel sneer. “And tell me, how much is your sister’s life worth?”

  I froze under the grip of his hand when his fingers curled around my throat and the chill of his breath rushed across my cheek. “Now, get on your fucking knees and beg, bitch!”

  Barely able to breathe, unable to fight anymore, I closed my eyes and slowly lowered before him, the last fragment of my spirit crushed under the brutality of his touch as I gave myself to him.

  The part of me that hadn’t died lifted my face upwards, my dry tears blurring my vision as I focussed on his cruel grin. The last remainder of my spirit spoke in an emotionless voice. “I’m begging for you. I’m begging you to give me what I need.” An icy detachment liquefied my heart as I blinked up at him. “I’m begging you to fuck me.”

  His smile lit his entire face. Very gently he settled his palm on my cheek, his thumb swiping across the tear I hadn’t felt slip free. He was almost affectionate, his touch soft and full of warmth.

  “Say goodbye to your soul, Dove.”

  As I remained on my knees before him, my eyes unable to leave his face as I waited for him, he reached into the clear plastic bag holding the penicillin and handed Sean two small tablets. “Go give the girl these.”

  Sean nodded, taking the two precious pills from Oliver’s hand before he winked at me, smiled as if everything was okay now, and then skipped from the room.

  Oliver fingered his belt, undoing the buckle with slow precise movements, his eyes never leaving mine. My heart rate escalated when I heard him pull his zip free. I didn’t want to look. If I didn’t look it wasn’t real. Slowly, I closed my eyes, praying that the parts of me that made me me would still be intact when all this was over.

  It’s funny what comes to help at the most stupid of times. But when I felt Oliver step even closer, my mind burst with pictures of Flick. His huge happy smile that always lit his face when he caught me looking at him. His twinkling green eyes when something had amused him. The way his luscious mouth would move whenever he would act out his favourite piece from a film.

  “Open your eyes, Dove.” Oliver’s voice was soft, caressing the horror that was curdling in every fibre of me.

  I did as he asked, opening my eyes and lifting them back to his face.

  “Shh,” he whispered when I started to cry. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

  I nodded almost eagerly, praying he wasn’t lying.

  “Give me your hand.”

  Gulping, I lifted a shaky hand, his own hand coming out to direct me. When he pressed my palm against his hard penis, a choked whimper caught in my throat.

  “Shh. Shh.”

  I wanted to close my eyes. I wanted to hide from what my eyes were forcing into my mind. However, I knew I was expected to keep them open. His hand still held the antibiotics, as though to remind me exactly why I was surrendering my self-respect.

  “Today,” he said softly, “I will just use your pretty mouth.”

  I gulped and nodded, grateful he was willing to allow me a little grace. “Thank you.”

  He smiled wider, obviously satisfied by my appreciation. “I think we’re going to get on just fine.” He winked at me. I couldn’t keep up with the manic emotions raging through me; horror, gratitude, dread. All of them clashed until my mind couldn’t seem to focus.

  Numbness slipped over me when he took my chin in his fingers and pulled my mouth open. I left my eyes on his when he slid his cock between my lips. My jaw was trembling and I was terrified I was going to graze him with my teeth.

  He pushed his hips forward, forcing himself further into my mouth. Tears sprung from my eyes but I wasn’t even sure why. I didn’t feel anything. My mind had gone blank, my body had sagged with acceptance and my heart was still, its beat silent in my chest.

  “Close your mouth around me, Dove, and suck me gently.”

  I followed his order, softly sucking on his rigid length. His taste wasn’t too bad. I had thought a man’s cock would have tasted bad, like cheesy, as all the girls on the campsite had told me when I was younger, but instead I seemed only able to concentrate on the velvety texture and the warmth of his flesh.

  “That’s it. Good girl.”

  He moved faster and faster, small grunts coming from him the more he pushed the tip of himself against the back of my throat. Strangely, I found the pleasure on his face mesmerising, the tightness in his jaw and the way his eyes blazed with heat captivating.

  When he released his sperm down my throat I could physically feel my soul slip from my body, breaking a piece of my heart with it. The reality of what had happened slid into my mind as nausea made me turn and vomit on the carpet, his ejaculation forced free with the tea that had refused to settle in my stomach.

  Oliver just laughed at me, watching me puke onto the carpet with a force that hurt my ribs.

  “Ahh well, pretty thing. Now you’re officially a whore.”

  And then he turned and left me sobbing into my hands at the cold hard truth.

  I found out the price of my soul that day. And it cost me everything.

  Present Day

  THE SILENCE POUNDED in my head, deafening my mind with the utter disgust and shock on Flick’s face. My body recoiled with the horror of my life, and finally dropping my eyes from his when his emotions became drowning, I locked my gaze on the deep rouge island on the floor. My lip curled at the mess, the deep fibres of the carpet soaked with another man’s blood. It hit me exactly who – what – I had turned into. What truth Flick could see every time he looked at me.

  I squeezed my eyes closed and sank my teeth into my bottom lip when Flick suddenly stood up. He couldn’t speak. I could see his struggle in every inch of his tense, hard body. Shaking his head when I gazed him, he about turned and walked out, the door slamming hard and loud behind him.

  Tears flooded me, along with the cold. The cold hard truth of what I had become. Nausea trickled into my belly as loathing seeped into my bones once again, the two always coming hand in hand.

  Slowly uncurling my legs from underneath my numb body, I moved across the room and took a small amount of coke from my stash, then quickly manipulating a line, I snorted in quick indulgence. The deadness filtered in pretty quickly and I slid down the wall and landed with a heavy thud onto the floor.

  My arms curled around my knees and
I allowed the tears exactly five minutes of freedom. I never afforded the grief to take over, never gave it liberation, because I knew one day it would kill me. It allowed me to see the truth of my life, the sick and vile person I was. Yet that would get me killed. Selfishness would one day be my killer because if recognition ever rolled in, it would take the last remaining parts of me and bury them with the others who had paid with their lives along the way. Their ghosts called to me constantly. Imelda. Retta. Chrissy. They begged me to join them every second I was trapped in the hell of my mind. And I begged them to take me.

  A ringing phone snapped me from the entrapment of self-disgust. Blowing out a breath, I pushed myself off the floor and grabbed my phone.

  “Jem.”

  “Good afternoon, beautiful lady,” she greeted chirpily. Jemima was constantly happy and as much as it sometimes grated on every one of my nerves, sometimes her cheerfulness was the very thing I needed. “Just letting you know, Frank’s back on. His shits have dried up.”

  I shook my head, exasperated. “Bloody hell, Jem. That’s a little TMI.”

  “Is it?” Jem was many things, my friend included, but she wasn’t the brightest button on the planet, and that was why I loved her. “Anyway, he says he’ll be with you by half seven.”

  I frowned. “For?”

  Arthur padded into the room, snorting the pot plant in the corner. My eyes shifted to the rain beating heavily on the window and I clenched my teeth, willing Jem to hurry up.

  “Larry Corelli, Dove.”