Bane's Heart (Avaleigh's Boys #2)(8)

By: Sandra R. Neeley


“Don’t call me a whore. I am not a whore. I just had lunch with Bane, in public, with witnesses around in the middle of the day!” she yelled at him. She knew better than to fight with him, truly she did. It just made it worse, but sometimes she couldn’t help herself.

He slapped her across the face so hard she stumbled, “Do not yell at me again, whore. I fucking made you. I fucking own you. You won’t be with him again, or I’ll kill that fucking bitch mother of yours. You hear me, girl?” he spat at her.

“I said do you hear me?” he shrieked at her.

“I hear you.” She made to get up, and he grabbed her by the arm and shoved her across the room where she bounced off the wall. As she lay there on the floor trying to catch her breath, he stood over her yelling. “I fucking own your sorry ass, every fucking penny you make is mine too. That piss-ant job of yours, bring me the money; sucking that asshole’s dick, bring me the money. And if you let him fuck you, I’ll whip your ass. That ass is going to make my fucking life easier.” She looked up at him, not knowing what the hell his sick mind was ranting about now. “Wants his fucking money, but I got to spend every fucking dime on your worthless asses. Fine, I’ll give him something that’ll make the money he wants look like nothing.” Then he turned back to her, “You fucking owe me for laying on my fucking leg all these years anyway, little interfering bitch!” He spat on her and stumbled his way back into the kitchen for more whiskey.

And now she lay in her bed listening to him rant to her mother about her being a whore. And her mother gave no response at all. Only responding “yes”, when he prompted her for a reply. She was glad her mother gave no response. If she had, he would have hurt her, too. Best she just humor the bastard until he passed out. She heard him as he made his way past her room yelling at her from the hall. “You want to whore yourself out, fine by me. But I’ll be damned if some asshole takes what I made without paying me for it. I’ll decide where and to who! I’ll damn sure get what I put into you back. Gonna take care of that tomorrow. You want to whore, you at least gonna make it worth the effort. ‘Bout time you earned your keep,” his ranting knew no limits. You never knew what filth would spew from his mouth.

She hated the bastard. Hated him. He was her father, and her mother had for whatever reason chosen him all those years ago, but he was a miserable bastard. She hated him so purely that she had no doubt that if she never got to heaven, her hatred of him would be why. But that was okay; she could live with that.

Sometime later, after his snores filled the house, her door opened, and her mother slipped into her room. She wrapped her arms around Janie and held her close while she kissed her head and smoothed her hair. She whispered as she asked her, “Is he a nice young man, Baby?”

“Yes, Mama. Only he’s not all that young. He’s a good bit older than me. But he’s really sweet.”

“Do you think he’d protect you, Honey, or do you think he’d be like your dad?”

“He’d protect me, Mom. But I can’t go to him. Dad will hurt you. I’m gonna tell him that I can’t see him anymore.”

“You should let him protect you. Don’t worry about me. I’ve dealt with your father for so many years, I’m immune. I just hate seeing him hurt you. Please, go to your young man. Tell him what is happening here, let him protect you.”

“No! I can’t take the chance that he would hurt you. We’ll figure something else out.”

Her mom tucked her blankets around her and stood to leave her room. She just looked at her sadly as she paused at the bedroom door. “Please, Baby. Don’t let him trap you here and steal your life away like he’s done to me.”

Janie didn’t answer her mom; she just watched her standing there with tears in her eyes, a shadow of the beautiful young woman she’d been when she’d married Janie’s dad.

“What’s his name?” her mom asked.

“Bane. His name is Bane Marchande’.”

“Does he love you, Honey?”

“He acts like he cares about me, and maybe he could love me. But it doesn’t matter now. I’ll tell him tomorrow that I can’t see him again. I can’t take the chance that Dad would hurt you if I don’t do what he says.”