19. Y*u stink

Listen to WYA by Carlie Hanson.

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I so prefer hurting my self with the truth than comforting my self with things that I know will remain lies.

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"Hey," Someone growls from my side. "Can you fucking stop humming?"

I smile mischievously and tone down my hum of 'Some Nights' by Fun, making it sound a lot weirder as I hum under my breath. Somehow, my sour mood has transformed itself into a happy mood when I learnt Dad had payed the money they wanted from him.

"Hey!"

"What?"

"I said stop."

"But I wasn't humming." I defend innocently, biting back a smirk, while he just groans, mutter curses under his breath and turns to face ahead of him.

And then, I let out a mind blowing fart, fake it behind a cough, pausing to yawn and then conclude feign coughing.

Slowly he turns to me, with his frown cloud with unbelief and irritation.

"Are you crazy?" He raises an eyebrow at me, unimpressed.

I roll my eyes and reply after huffing. "I can be a lot of things, but being crazy is the last thing I am."

He growls and hurls a few curses, with his face cold as stone, rough calloused fingers reaches over for the radio and Madonna's 'Like A Virgin' blasts from the speakers. He starts the car and shifts into the gear and drives us out of the surrounding of the old abandoned house that is the only house on the motionless, thick bushy surroundings.

Four days felt like four years, they represented an unending roller coaster of a tiny flicker of hope, a great deal of despair, fear of being abandoned by Dad and the world and lended an extending hand to endless distress. It felt like I was left to rot in the hole I was locked in, while my life at home with everything, gladly moved on without me in it.

So much happened.

I had cried when I woke up after the rape attempt. I had no idea a human being could cry as much as I did. I felt numb and sick, like my soul was detached from my body, like I was reduced to a little shit.

I even became handy, made panties out of my torn clothes because the Blonde Perv and Juvenile molester riped my panties apart. A sickening feeling always ran through my veins and ended chilly on my spines whenever I had flash backs of the incident.

His sweat, his ripped muscles, his rough calloused fingers, the lust in his eyes.

It's something I'd never forget untill my last day on Earth.

There were times I meditated what would've been of me, if he'd truly succeeded.

Although, I know I lost something in me, but if he'd raped me, I'd have lost everything in me. I would've hide between my shell and reduced to a depressed teenager who'd shut herself off from the world and everything.

But I'm glad my virginity is still intact.

I might be a brat, but my virginity means a whole damn lot to me.

The Grey Eyed Asshole ordered his men to take turns in watching over me since I nearly got raped by the blonde guy. Every three hours, I was being watched over by his trusted men so there wouldn't be a repeat of any rape attempt. Something which I was grateful for. And I saw the blonde guy no more.

Taking care of business was amusing for me, and pure torture for them, because one of them would have to take me out to the bushes and stay with me. Inhaling the foul stench of my feces.

It was one of those days we where being chased by a boar.

Flashback

"Hey, how many times do I have to repeat myself before you start listening? You're taking forever with that, and if you don't get done this minute, I'm out ." He'd admitted as he puffed out the fumes of cigarette from his nostrils and mouth. He'd told me it was to kill the stench of my feces.

"Oh, really? Try that and see if you wouldn't get decapitated by The Grey Eyed Asshole."

His 'What? out came through a chuckle. "You mean our head? Nah. You're just worth 50 million bucks." He threw his hand away like 50 million bucks worthed nothing.

"Like you could get that working your ass off till you go wrinkled." I replied with a snort and pulled one of the wild roses to wipe my butthole clean because there wasn't any water.

For a spilt second, I thought I was seeing things until I saw a boar behind the guy's back.

"There's something at your back, and in order not to squeal like a girl, just run." I barely finished before I started my half-jog half-run, while he raised his hands up in surrender,

laughed and told me I was crazy and slowly turned around, let out a squeal like a girl, and ran till he was ahead of me, while the boar chased after us.

The idiot forgot I was with him as he ran for his dear life. He finally got into the house and locked me out.

I knew that was my opportunity to escape but I didnt know how, and the boar could get hold of me and make a delicious meal out of me. Plus I was scared of earning a bullet on my leg by the grey eyed asshole. So I stayed, and few moments later, the door was unlocked, jerked opened, and I, shoved in.

And as I was carried to the basement, I didn't fail taking notice of the guy who locked me out. He had sustained a black eye and swollen cheek from the Grey Eyed Asshole.

End of flash back

I'm being release today, currently, the singing-shoving-cakes-into-the-bag-guy, the guy whose jacket I have wrapped around my almost nude body, in other words the brown hair guy, is driving me to a place where Dad will come pick me up.

The brown haired guy was quite remorseful and sneaked in crumbs of leftovers because the Grey Eyed Asshole, being the caveman that he was, stayed true to his words of starving me.

* * *

"Are you upset?" Is the question Dad asks me after the guy had dropped me and sped off, for the fear of being arrested by cops. I discerned as he drove, he kept staring at the review mirror, half expecting to be surrounded by cops and half praying to get out safely. Although The Grey Eyed Asshole had warned Dad over the phone, that if anything happened to his man, then Dad would be sorry. I believe him, and I know Dad believes him too.

And what Dad asked striked me because it was a stunningly stupid thing to say, and a Dad thing to say too. "Oh yes, I'm upset. How can you even ask such a question, Dad. Who wouldn't be upset? I got kidnapped!"

"Oh Katherine, I'm so sorry." He wraps me in a hug and I swallow the lump in my throat at the tone of his voice, before hugging him back. I've always been a fighter, but with Dad, I discard my shield. "So sorry you had deal with getting kidnapped. So sorry you had to suffer such cruel fate because of me. I mean, if I was some poor farmer, no one who kidnap come you." He facepalms and adds. "I don't deserve you."

I know I need to get my shit together and not cry too, because he is already getting all teary eyed, so I snap at him

"Stop talking nonsense." And my voice comes out really hoarse as I hug him tighter, because I'm fighting back the tears that are at the brim of my eyes.

I stare up at him again, to examine him and take in the worry lines in his face. He looks fatigued, worn out, stressed, and two decades older.

I bite my lips together, to keep so hard from crying, but they betray me by trembling. And so, the tears arrive and outflow. While Dad keeps muttering how sorry he is, reigning kisses on my forehead and patting gently on my back.

I choose not to tell him about the rape attempt by one of my captors.

* * *

After being in the car for hours, over the 100 miles drive, I inhale deeply the air of home the moment I hop out of the car and my feet touch the ground. And when my chest feels like it's filled up with bath foams, I let out a shaky breath and shut the car door behind me.

After staying in a shit hole with my captors, with the view of bushes, sounds of classical music, watching my captors bicker back and forth, arm wrestled, fought over food, make a fool out of themselves, and me being bitten terribly by insects and rats, it feels fucking good to be home again.

And as I side step the fucking body guards who are dummies and aren't smart to their job because I got kidnapped, I mutter curses at them. What the hell are they guarding when Dad just left me under their care, and I got kidnapped.

I exhale knowing it's mostly my fault and partly theirs. But I can't help getting pissed seeing them dressed in black suits, standing like statues at the museum.

Dad places a hand at the small of my back and as we walk. A light flicker on in a room upstairs. The curtain is being pull away, with the light shinning through the window, and Sarah pops her head out.

She stares at me for a moment then pulls the curtain back, and I can see her shadow retreating away from the window.

I barely make it to the door when it all happens.

One moment I'm being wrapped in a hug by Sarah and the next I'm being carried up like a toddler by Evans.

"Thank fuck, I'm glad you're back, Kate." Evans exclaims, hugging me even tighter, and I feel tears build up in my eyes.

"Me too." I reply.

"What happened to your clothes?" Sarah takes a step back to examine the heavy jacket I have wrapped around me.

And with me not wanting to spill what happened, told her I fell into a quick sand.

Miranda clears her throat awkwardly and steps forward.

"Am I," She clears her throat again before concluding. "Allowed to hug you?"

Letting my guard down, I nod with tears spilling and let her pull me into a hug. It ferps like a dream that we are hugging.

When she pulls away tearing up herself, I see Sam staring weirdly at me, the stare I just realize I have missed.

"I never liked you, and it's suprising I couldn't sleep a wink, knowing you were kidnapped." He exhales in defeat, almost throwing his hands up in the air, before pulling me into a brief awkward hug and recoils steps back away from me, with his rat-like frown on his face.

"You stink." He exclaims.

And we all chuckle, including Doris, who I hadn't notice her presence until now.

She leaves Dad's side and wraps her hands around me. My respect towards her grows, but my distrust towards her remains the same because I can never trust her. Ever.

I suprise myself by closing my eyes, wanting to feel the warmth of a woman who isn't my mother by birth, a woman I hated two weeks ago. And now, I don't even know how to feel.. If I still hate her or..

Of course, I still do hate her. I correct myself.

But it's just...

I pause my thoughts, noticing with more than a little disappointment that he is absent.

Where is Max?

"Out, getting drunk." Sam, replies, letting me know I had voiced out my thoughts.

I wait for Dad and Doris to ascend the stairs before I turn to the four siblings

"Why?"

"We don't know, since he learnt about your kidnap, he pulled up a shitty attitude." Evans explains.

They follow me into the kitchen and watch me check the fridge for food.

"He's one very crazy drunk, tends to smash things up and is back to getting into fights." Sarah supplies, resting her back against the kitchen Island. And I know, if I hadn't gotten kidnapped, I'd have laughed into her face for calling Max a crazy drunk when she is the crazy drunk. But Max a crazy drunk? Guess it runs through their bloodline.

"Always arrives late at night with bruises, even gotten beaten by some thugs when I followed him to the subway." Sam adds and sits on the kitchen counter, munching potato chips.

"And I wonder why he's like that." Miranda says, gives me a firm nod and leaves for her room.

What?

Max getting himself drunk?

Getting into fights because of me?

Why?

It is unbelievable.

With my mouth full, I pause from stuffing whatever I think is edible into my mouth and advert my eyes to the three siblings, take a hard gulp and feel tears welling up in my eyes, with a bubble of emotions popping up in my throat.

Why?

Because I'm already in love with my step brother, my bully. It's the damn hard truth, and I'm done comforting myself with lies that I feel nothing for him.

I hate him and I love him. And I am stupid for letting my mind travel back to kisses we shared. Still stupid because I thought about him more than I should. And will remain stupid because I'm dying to see him right now.

Oh God!

I need to stay far away from him as possible.