The Broken II: Tainted Trail Page 4

  Kissing her on the head, Jesse replies, “For what?”

  “I suppose, for being you… for being so good with the children… for… well… for just everything, really.”

  Reaching his arms around her body he squeezes her tightly. “I’m here for your children.”

  With her head on his chest she’s breathing him in. Closing her eyes tight and wrapped within his strength, Alice feels protected and safe. She feels as though the path she’s on has had the curse lifted. She’s no longer alone and vulnerable. She and her children have protection, they have Jesse. Opening her eyes, she looks back to her daughter. She is sleeping peacefully, resembling a sweet angel, surrounded by pure white sheets. Just above Hope’s head sits a pastel pink fluffy teddy bear. This special man-made toy was left to this precious little girl by her daddy. This six-week-old baby never had the opportunity to meet the man who should have been her first true love, her daddy. He very sadly died before she was born. Before this baby girl had a chance to take her first breath, Phil Parkinson had already taken his own life. With her fate mapped within the stars, Hope was to remain fatherless for life. Phil had left this personalised teddy bear next to a suicide note, with wishes for his only daughter’s name. The same name which was sewn onto the bear’s stomach. And so, in honour of her husband, Alice named their only daughter Hope Eva Lia Parkinson. Whispering to Jesse once more, she says, “She’s so pretty.”

  Hearing the quiet tone of her mum and still dreaming, Hope begins to fidget. Sucking her huge pink diamanté pacifier and making baby mumbling sounds, Hope moves her head slightly and Alice notices a deep black smudge on the cot sheet next to her head.

  “What’s that?”

  Looking slightly sheepish, Jesse replies, “What?”

  “That…” Leaning into the cot, Alice sees a black stain approximately the size of an English fifty pence piece. She touches it and the substance instantly sticks to her finger and tints her skin like black ink. Shuddering, Alice attempts unsuccessfully to wipe it off. Feeling physically sick, she says, “Ew, ew, ew! That’s disgusting.”

  “Sshh. You’ll wake Hope.”

  Wanting to get the freezing cold nauseating liquid from off her skin, Alice rushes out of the bedroom to go and wash her hands.

  Chapter Five

  Power

  Alone once more with Hope, Jesse tucks the sheets securely under Hope’s chin. Once satisfied, he strokes her warm, slightly rosy, chubby cheek and follows Alice out of the bedroom. Turning back one final time, he stares at Hope before gently shutting the door behind him.

  He enters the bathroom, where Alice is standing at the sink. The hot tap is flowing at maximum capacity, the steam from the water hitting the mirror just above the sink and is coating it with a mist. Preoccupied, Alice doesn’t see Jesse enter. She’s aggressively scrubbing her fingertip with soap; the dark, tainted looking liquid is refusing to leave her skin. Alice jumps as Jesse leans over her shoulder.

  “My goodness! Jesse, you scared me then.” Still struggling to remove the substance, she continues, “What is this? It won’t come off.”

  Saying nothing, Jesse leans to Alice’s neck and kisses it gently. As his breath lands on her skin, Jesse can see tiny pimples making an appearance.

  As Jesse kisses her neck, Alice becomes stiff. Every part of her body has locked and become frozen. She can’t act upon the words rapidly travelling around her mind. This internal, strong and loud voice is telling her to run and not look back.

  Suddenly a thick substance manifests at the back of her throat. Alice tries but fails to swallow, and as it spreads and takes over her larynx, Alice begins to choke. She can’t shift the substance, and it begins to fill her airways, bringing with it an overbearing, nauseating smell. It can only be described as the stench of death. She realises that she no longer has any power over her emotions or movements. Something is taking over her being.

  Jesse is satisfied with Alice’s quick submission. He very teasingly whispers into her ears, “Do – you – like – to play games – Ms Parkinson?”

  Alice remains immobile and says nothing, her eyes closed. Jesse kisses her neck once more. The acceptance from her soul is almost complete. Suddenly, his eyes begin to turn a deep shade of grey. Embracing every second and the power he has, Jesse licks his way up her neck to her earlobe. Placing his hand on her chest, Jesse feels Alice’s heartrate is no longer beating in sync. It has become erratic. This vital human organ is pounding rapidly. Her eyes are still closed, and Jesse feels the transition as he traps Alice deep within her own mind.

  Aware he now has full reign, and placing his hands flat on her hips, Jesse grips this skeletal body part tightly. Aroused by his power, Jesse begins thrusting himself aggressively against her body, moaning under his breath. He leans close to her ear and whispers in a deep, dulcet, intimidating tone, “Oh, you want this don’t you, Ms Parkinson?”

  Aware that she doesn’t have the ability to reply or even react to the violation of her body, Jesse is becoming aroused at the power he has. His erection is growing inside his jeans with every second that passes. Jesse has a huge desire to place himself forcefully and deep inside of her. Guiding his hands down to her crotch area, he holds this sensitive body part in his hands. Once again, Jesse whispers premeditated words directly into her ear and becomes present deep within her mind. “Now you have surrendered to me, I want to hear you moan.”

  Alice says no words but moans under her breath. Basking in the supremacy he has over the moment and getting a thrill as she adheres to his command, Jesse says, “That’s it, you’re a good girl.”

  Rubbing her clitoris from the outside of her thin leggings, Jesse feels the material is damp. Her body is accepting the tingling sensation and is becoming wet with pleasure. Continuing his dominant, intrusive and controlling ways, he says, “I command you to receive me.”

  As soon as his words are spoken, Alice throws her head on to his chest and moans louder than the last time. Alice is completely unaware of what is happening. She’s unaware that she is in fact, surrendering a tiny molecule of her soul to this individual. Jesse’s now content with his actions and Alice’s acceptance. He smiles conceitedly and then makes his next calculated move. He says the four words you never wish to hear: “Your soul is mine…”

  Alice moans louder. Continuing with the circling motion around her clitoris, Jesse is teasing her. Alice is trapped in the moment, under Jesse’s command. He allows her the ability to speak, but her voice is deep and doesn’t sound like her own as she says, “I want you inside me now.”

  Gyrating her body, she says, “I beg you, come deep inside me!”

  Kissing her neck forcefully, Jesse is hard and thriving off the supremacy he feels at the full control he holds over the moment. Remaining behind Alice he thrusts upon her fully clothed body with intensity. Sensing she’s about to climax and wanting to keep full reign over the moment, he releases her genitalia from his hand. Gripping her hair in his hand, he pulls her head back and nibbles at the skin on her neck as he says, “All in good time… for now, you have served your purpose. You have passed the test.”

  Loving the control he has and wanting to physically see her hurting Jesse commands, “Cry, I want to see your pain.”

  No sooner have the words left his mouth than a single tear rolls down the side of Alice’s cheek.

  “Remember one very important thing, Ms Parkinson: from this day, if I say so… you do so… Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  Without an ounce of compassion, he pulls harder and grits his teeth as he says into her ear, “The deep flames of hell burning inside me love it when I hurt you, it turns me on.”

  Releasing her hair, he grips her crotch area harshly and thrusts up against her. Wanting full pleasure himself, Jesse begins undoing his jeans assertively and, just as he’s about rip her leggings down to place himself deep inside of her, Jesse is caught of
f guard as the front door bangs shut!

  The sound of the door slamming breaks Alice’s entrapment, and she begins choking. She curls over the sink in pain, her head throbbing. Her body trembling, Alice is regaining consciousness and begins looking at her current state. Utterly mortified and confused, she says, “What’s going on? Oh, my goodness, what on earth are we doing?”

  “What do you mean? You were asking me to have sex with you.”

  “What?!” Pushing herself away from Jesse and back towards the bathroom door she says, “Why was… I… erm… I don’t understand?” She places her head in her hands, and as she touches her scalp it feels tender and sore. Scrunching her face at the pain, she says, “I’m sorry… erm… I honestly don’t know what came over me.”

  Flinching slightly as Jesse reaches out to hold her, Alice is extremely alarmed.

  “It’s okay if you’ve changed your mind and you don’t want to do this,” Jesse replies. “I just wanted to give you what you asked for, my queen, and to make you happy. I only ever want to please you. I don’t just want you for sex. I want your soul. I want your children. I want the whole package. You don’t need to apologise. I’m going nowhere, don’t you worry.”

  He kisses her on the forehead. They hear rustling bags coming from downstairs and compose themselves, rearranging their hair and clothing. Alice and Jesse begin to make their way out of the bathroom and down the stairs.

  A familiar voice shouts out, “Hello! Alice?”

  Terence and Rupert run out of the front room, shouting, “Nannie…” in perfect symphony.

  Standing in the hallway is Alice’s mum, Dorothy Davies. Wearing her trendy, casual, high street fashion clothing, Dorothy is younger than most grandmothers. She, like her daughter, was once a young teenage mum. In this respect, the family history seemed to repeat itself.

  Dorothy, at the young age of fifty-two, a mother to just one, is now a grandmother, or nannie as she calls herself, to five. She embraces being a nannie. The same can’t be said for her mothering abilities to Alice during her younger years. But she has a different outlook when it comes to her grandchildren. Dorothy is a committed trendy nannie.

  She has thick, long, shiny, straight red hair and piercing green eyes, offset by her pale skin and slight freckles. This middle-aged woman is curvy and fabulous. In her hands she holds bags of treats and gifts for the children. As soon as Dorothy sees two of her precious grandsons she beams and shouts, “Hello my boys, there you are. Come and give your nannie a big hug.” Squeezing the boys with all her might, she continues, “Where’s mummy?”

  Standing at the bottom of the stairs, flustered, Alice sees the concern in her mum’s eyes.

  “Alice…” Dorothy begins, trailing off when she sees Jesse appear not too far behind her. “Erm, oh, there you are. I’ve come to see if I can help you with anything.”

  Making her way over to her mum, Alice hugs her and greets her with a kiss as she says, “Mum, I told you we’re fine.”

  Without acknowledging Jesse, Dorothy says to her daughter, “Don’t be silly, I’m here now. Is Hope asleep? And where are Lewis and Freddie?”

  “Yes, I’ve just got her off to sleep,” Jesse cuts in. “And the boys are out. Can I get you anything to drink, Dorothy?”

  “No.”

  Not wanting a scene, Alice sternly says, “Mum.”

  “Fine – no thank you.” Quick to disengage with Jesse, Dorothy looks straight to Terence and Freddie. As she kneels down, she says, “Come on then, my precious little gents, what shall we do? Look, nannie has brought you toys.”

  Terence pulls her arm, obviously bursting at the seams with excitement, and shouts, “Yay! Nannie, look, Sam Sam firing man.”

  As they enter the front room, Jesse grabs Alice’s arm and says, “Sort it or I will.”

  With his fingertips pressing deep into the soft muscle on her arm, Alice says, “Ouch, Jesse, let go. I’ll sort it.” Rubbing her arm to try and soothe the pain, Alice follows her mum into the front room wearing a fake smile worthy of an Oscar.

  Chapter Six

  Who Are You Calling Chicken?

  The alleyway is shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from the dim streetlamps, which are coated with graffiti. The crooked tainted-looking trail leads onto a huge overgrown field. Discarded waste lies on the ground like a blanket. Unwanted furniture has been randomly left around and multiple mounds of black ash from previous bonfires are spread out across the area resembling mole hills. In the distance, hidden within the shadows, stands an abandoned children’s playground.

  The playground is enclosed by a huge metal fence. The Council built it in the hope of keeping the public out. There are signs that say WARNING and DO NOT ENTER everywhere. But since there are no electric fences or real consequences to entering, the area has become a regular hang-out spot for troubled souls and disobedient youth. It’s also a place where deprived addicts can shoot up undisturbed and the local homeless can sleep. It radiates an eerie energy. The once loved children’s venue has most definitely become a place where you would never desire to take your precious young.

  There is a metal slide that has dangerous shards of glass resting at the bottom, along with a defective see saw. No park would be complete without a swing set, except, this particular swing set is barely standing and it creaks eerily at the slightest breeze.

  Lewis Parkinson is hanging out in the playground with his friends. They’re surrounded by a sea of dirty needles, foil, and other drug paraphernalia left behind by the local addicts. The group of troubled teens are being disrespectful and destructive. From grabbing bottles and smashing them off the ground, to spray painting the surrounding brick walls, park fixtures and anything else that can they get their hands on, they have been behaving in a despicable manner. At present, they are sitting on one of the benches, listening to music and drinking copious amounts of alcohol.

  “Neck it – neck it – neck it. Don’t be a pussy, Ben.”

  “Shut your face, Lew. You know I’ve got Irish blood. As my dad would always say, ‘Us O’Doyle’s can drink any man under the table’ I’ve done it before and will do it again. Don’t tempt me cause you know I’ll just embarrass your arse.”

  Left to their own devices, this teenage group isn’t concerned about the darkness. They don’t appreciate the fact that they’re potentially in a very dangerous situation by loitering around an abandoned playground at night. They are unbothered by missed curfews and betrayals of parental trust.

  “Go on then, throw it back.”

  “Fine – one, two, three…”

  Ben puts the bottle of whisky to his lips and drinks the contents at a rapid rate. He gags as the alcohol travels down his throat and warms his stomach.

  “Fuck me, that’s just disgusting. We should have got vodka.”

  “Lew – look – you forgot your crack pipe.”

  Picking up one of the needles from the floor, Ben begins chasing Lewis around the park with it.

  Frantic, Lewis shouts, “Mate, are you mad? You’ll catch AIDS, you fucking dick head. Put it down, man.”

  Ben throws the needle to the ground.

  “Eww, mate, what if I’ve got the AIDS I don’t want the AIDS. I’m too young to die.”

  “Mate, you’re not going to die. Now come on, sort yourself out, you spaz.”

  They re-join the group, who are playing music through their phones and joking around together.

  The reputation of this park doesn’t bother Lewis one bit. This intimidating group of teenage lads and a single teenage girl are having fun by vandalising the area further and destroying whatever might have survived previous rampages. Lewis is the leader of the group and his friends are always battling for his approval and acknowledgement. They are an assorted group of misfits, each one troubled in some way.

  Standing proudly with his head held high is Ben O’Doyle. Lewis never
goes anywhere without Ben.

  Ben has wavy dark brown hair, which he has caked with copious amounts of gel and various other products. It’s flicked to one side, accentuating the trendy teenager’s sharp cheek bones and youthful skin. With his bright blue eyes and Irish accent, Ben is popular with the young ladies.

  Lewis and Ben have been tightly bonded since the very early years of pre-school. Together, these two have stood side by side through thick and thin. They are inseparable.

  Then there’s the sensible brains of the group, sixteen-year-old Hugo Newman.

  “Lads, do you want some of this?” Hugo says as he waves a bottle of brandy in the air. “Lewis, Lewis, here, have some of this.”

  Lewis laughs as Hugo shoves the bottle in his face. “Mate, I’m good, I’ve got a beer.”

  “Suit yourself, then.” Turning, Hugo makes a beeline for Ben. “Benny boy, do you want some of this brandy? It is top notch. I stole it from my father’s collection in the basement.”

  “Yeah, go on then, mate. Nice one.” Knocking back the straight brandy, Ben coughs.