A Lil' Less Hopeless (15 page)

Maybe this will be easier if I just park it somewhere and wait to be found, instead of playing the maze game with several hundred well dressed but impatient audience members? I head over toward the largest oak tree in the center of the lawn to relax under its shade until the craziness settles.

The temperature instantly drops a few degrees as I feel the tree's relief from the brutal sun. Pressing my back against the large trunk, I graze the crown looking for my mom. She is the only person I want to see right now. I'm still angry at the boys for their little graduation present from thirty minutes ago. Instead, I see another familiar face walking toward me, making an audible “Tisk, tisk” sound while smiling.

“How is it that you can turn something as boring as a graduation ceremony into a small scandal?” the friendly visitor finally asks as he reaches the shade of the tree. I reach out to hug him, thankful for the lighthearted distraction. He follows his statement with a soft embrace.

“Hey Conrad. So... you saw that, huh?” I ask back sarcastically. I hadn't seen Conrad since spring break, when he came to pick up Stephanie to take her home. He laughs lightly in my ear before tightening his grip and whirling me around.

“Of course I did. I was nodding off, listening to Cross ramble on and on until all hell broke loose!” He gently places me back down and lets go of his grip to look at me.

“So... Baby V, hmm? What's that about? I've never heard anyone call you that before. Something new?”

“No... something old. Annoying, and old. Have you found Steph yet? I saw her over by the flower garden a few minutes ago” I quickly change the topic away from my personal humiliation.

He moves us deeper into the shade. “Yeah, I found her. She's taking pictures with our parents. So how does it feel to be amongst us grown-ups, in the real world now?” Ha! I can barely call Conrad a grown up. He is no more an adult than his sister or I am.

“I am officially declining to answer any such questions until after the Summer is over. I figure I can stretch out one last season before joining in the trenches.” I answer back while shaking my head.

“All right...” He gives me a pass, “I'll ask you again in September, then. Enjoy it while it lasts. So... Steph tells me you two are going to be roommates in the city this fall?”

He takes on a visibly confused exterior.

“Seriously, I don't get chicks. I've spent eighteen years living under the same roof as her, and I couldn't wait for us to go to college just so I wouldn't have to deal with her every day. You two get paired up for five years and can't seem to let it go. I've seen how she keeps her room, V.” He rests a playful accusing finger on my chin, “You're a glutton for punishment.”

I step up to defend my friend, even in jest.

“Steph's not
that
messy. She's just organizationally challenged, I think. Yeah, we're going to look for an apartment downtown while we both get internships. Hopefully.” I had no idea Steph had told her brother about out plans for the fall. I was thinking of a polite way to ask Conrad to keep it on the quiet side until we definitely have plans set, when I see him look over my shoulder, and his face tense.

“There you are. We've been looking all over for you.” I turn to see Dom standing a few feet away from me. His deep brown eyes looking from me to Conrad, and back. “I told your mom I'd find you for pictures.”

Conrad recovers from his sudden discomfort.

“This must be one of your loudly proud brother's then? Nice to meet you” He speaks to Dom as he politely extends his hand. “Conrad Thomas, Stephanie's brother,” he introduces himself.

Dom hesitates for a split second while looking down at me. He's always been substantially taller than me, but I somehow feel him grow in height. He reaches out for Conrad's hand and shakes it casually while maintaining his gaze on me.

“No, I'm not V's brother. I'm a
really
good friend.”

He reluctantly shifts his eyes to Conrad. They probably should have let go of their grip, but keep it going awkwardly.

“Dominic Di'Benedetto. Good to meet you. I didn't know Stephanie had a brother.” He finally lets go of the younger boy's hand.

The two of them can't be more than eighteen inches apart, facing each other. Dom is Definitely the taller of the two, but Conrad straightens his shoulders as if to gain a few inches to make up the difference. Neither of them break their stare. I think fast to come up with something to say before this starts to feel even more uncomfortable. Dom beats me to it before I can say anything.

“But... you see those three goons over there? Standing by the fountain, staring at you?
Those
are her brothers. I think they want to see their baby sister and congratulate her.” He slowly states with a subtle hint of enthusiasm as he places his open palm on my lower back, adding a slight amount of pressure to will me to move with him toward where he's pointing.

“Uh yeah. That's fine. Congratulations, V. I'll catch up with you later than?” is all Conrad could manage to speak before I am out of earshot.

“Thanks! I'll call Steph about meeting tonight. You in?” I call back slightly increasing volume as I am being led away.

He nods over enthusiastically.

“Sure! Talk to you then!” he finishes while still standing in the same spot, under the oak tree, trying to figure out what exactly just happened.

No longer trying to yell out to Conrad, I turn fully toward Dom and stop walking, placing more weight in the heels of my shoes to counter his gentle guiding. He realizes quickly that we have slowed, and looks down toward me, not releasing his position from it's place on my lower back.

“What?” he playfully lets out while rolling his eyes slightly. “Come on V. Are you really pissed at what we did? It was Mike's idea. But, it was a good one,” he continues his argument. “You're the last one to graduate... we couldn't pass it up.”

I exhale deeply and loudly.

“You are all idiots, you know! Really! You couldn't just act your age and at least
pretend
to be mature for one afternoon, could you?” I scold as my pointed finger presses into his tie. I was expecting to push into his chest slightly, for full dramatic effect but met resistance under my fingertip.

Dom practically lives at the gym... but I guess I didn't give him enough credit. His chest was a
lot
firmer than I thought it would be.

He moves his free hand to cover my accusing pointer finger and presses it slightly so that my palm flattens out over his silky tie. Keeping his hand covering mine while changing his tone from one of jest to a softer, sweeter one, he begins the apology.

“I'm sorry, V. Really... I am. You know us. We bust your chops. That's all. I mean... you must have expected us to do s
omething
...?”

His brown eyes are somehow softer now, no longer laughing silently as they were before. His hand is strong on top of mine, as if he is holding it to reassure me of his words. Not wanting to brow beat him any more than necessary, as he obviously thinks I'm damn mad at him, I pull my hand back and use sarcasm to return to our usual and familiar banter.

“A sign?... Really? With Glitter! That's above Mike's skills for planning, Dom. Neanderthal's can't read let alone write.” I turn on my heel and storm off toward the other three idiots about to feel my wrath.

BABY V

TARA OAKES' FIRST FULL LENGTH

STAND ALONE NOVEL

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HERE IS ONE LAST SNEAK PEEK

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ARIE LANE AND HER

DEBUT NOVEL

TRYST

*
This material, whether in part or in it's entirety is copyrighted by Arie Lane and not meant to be shared, duplicated, or used in any manner without direct permission from the author herself.

I have been through a living hell. I lost my sister to a stalker who to this day, refuses to say where she is buried. I lost my father to his best friend Jim Beam, and my mother, well I never had her. Sure she was there. My darling mommy created the hell I endure every day.

For as long as I can remember, the woman hated me. She enjoyed finding new ways to try and break me. The earliest recollection I have of my mother is her humiliating me.

My twin Cora and I were celebrating our fourth birthday. Cora insisted she
had
to have a Cinderella party. I wasn’t much into princesses, but my opinion hardly mattered when it came to Cora’s demands. So, of course my mother thought this idea was brilliant. There was a small consolation though, mom said we could both be Cinderella. Cora threw such a fit at the idea she wasn’t going to be the only princess.

That is until she saw our outfits.

Cora’s was a beautiful blue dress, a Swarovski crystal crown, and mother even had glass slippers custom made for her. When it came time for me to put on my dress, it turned out, it wasn’t a dress at all. It was rags, Dirty ,filthy rags. I was the standing joke of the party. That was the start to a long and painful childhood.

I tried to avoid my mother’s wrath as much as possible, even if Cora made it her life’s mission to see me miserable. I guess she didn’t like having a twin any more than my mother liked having a second daughter. My mother’s temper hit a boiling point when I was six. We were at a fair and Cora had kicked the dirty water from a mud puddle up at me. It was the first time my mother didn’t scream at me, and Cora wasn’t too thrilled that she hadn’t succeeded. She always went out of her way to make sure I got in trouble, so since her antics didn’t get the reaction she wanted, she tripped me.

I landed face first in the mud puddle destroying my Sunday dress. When I stood back up, our mother was furious. It was the first time she’s hit me hard enough to leave a mark. I had her hand imprinted across my cheek until the next morning.

Demanding that I bathe, she ran a bath for me as soon as we got home. I thought maybe her anger had lessened, because she seemed calmer during the trip home. That was until I realized she ran the bath with water that was just a few degrees shy of boiling. She pushed me and the ruined dress I was still wearing, into the water. I thought she had left me alone, so I tried to add some cold water to the tub. I never got the chance, before she came back in and poured some kind of cleaner into the bath water and told me to scrub. The cleaner was harsh and it left my body covered in blisters.

Once she left the room again, I thought it was safe to wash the mud from my hair. Laying back in the tub to try and wash the mud away, I opened my eyes to my mother hovering above me. The next thing I knew, she was holding me under the water trying to drown me. I must have had a guardian angel that night because somehow I slipped out of her grip and bolted through the door leaving water everywhere. I don’t recall what I was spanked with that night, but I remember I could hardly walk for two days. This became the pattern of my life, abuse and degradation.

Teachers often saw marks, but usually overlooked them. Even when they did ask, nothing ever came of it aside from making my mother more angry. Because of that, I learned early on not to tattle. No one ever believed me over her. Especially not with Cora, the image of perfection, standing by her side. Everyone began to believe I was hurting myself for attention. The fucked up part was the more she hated me, the harder I tried to make her love me.

I was never good enough, though. It didn’t matter that I had perfect grades. It didn’t matter how many people congratulated her on what a bright, well-mannered daughter she had. No, the only thing that mattered was that I couldn’t bring her into the limelight. That’s what she had Cora for.

Beautifully, spell-binding Cora, who could entrap you in a web of the most beautiful lies. Cora was the only person I think Darla Celeste ever gave a shit about, other than herself. But then Cora was her ticket to stardom. She planned to ride the heels of Cora’s modeling career straight to the top. While I continued to live my life in solitude consumed by my studies.

October 25, 2007, was the day my life officially came to an end. Cora had been missing for several months, and any hope of finding her (or her body) had dwindled. The police charged a man that had been seen following her around, and later was identified as her stalker.

She had never mentioned a stalker to me. For the first time in my life I had my sister, as we had grown close during my final year in school and the months thereafter. It was nice to have her there, even for that short while.

The police questioned the man extensively, but he refused to admit to killing her. He was charged with kidnapping, obstruction and aggravated stalking. He took a plea deal to serve out a five year sentence.

The day we laid my sister’s empty coffin into the ground something inside my mother broke. She had always been abusive and hostile. Her obsession with me had turned to something brutal and deadly, then. Standing in the kitchen after the funeral, cleaning up the mess created by all of the comings and goings of people giving condolences, my mother’s sanity snapped.

It could be, it was never there in the first place. To this day, I can still taste the chemicals she laced the plastic bag with, although they never found the object she used to try knocking me out with. Whatever it was, left me with a small concussion and a fractured skull.

If my best friend, Dante, hadn’t talked me into taking self-defense classes with him, I’d likely be dead. Darla Celeste has a good seven inches on my frame, so getting the bag over my head was the easy part. I fought back like hell, though, as she tried to tighten the bag around my neck hoping that if she couldn’t at least suffocate me, she’d be able to strangle me instead.

It was the first time I ever filed a police report against my mother for her abuse. Even that didn’t accomplish anything other than building her rage. She convinced a psychiatrist she was suffering from P.T.S.D. because of my sister’s disappearance, and she couldn’t recognize me in that moment. She claims she was trying to defend herself.

It was complete bullshit, but just like every other time, they bought the lies as if she was incapable of telling anything other than the truth.

It was in those moments that my mother prepared me for a life of misery. It was in those moments I felt I would either live my life hidden away or die in whatever heinous fashion my mother would deem most appropriate, to garner the most media attention.

Darla had decided if she didn’t have Cora’s coattails to ride, that the loss of her surviving daughter would be devastating enough to garner her enough media attention and sympathy to throw her into the spotlight. But she didn’t just want my disappearance and death, she wanted it in a media frenzied circus.

She wanted a horrific spectacle that would launch her to the top of her social circle, no matter what the cost. My mother was nothing if not a whore, and she was willing to trade my life for her 15 minutes of fame.

I chose to hide away from everyone. My only solace was in the knowledge that if I was alone, then no one could ever hurt me. If nothing else, my life had prepared me for pain and misery. It had prepared me for each of the great disappointments I endured.

Nothing in my life though, could have prepared me for him.

I was at a loss when it came to the man who would wreck the safe little life I had built for myself. Never in my wildest dreams could I have ever conjured up a man like Tristan.

People say nothing in life comes your way that you can’t handle. Well I call bullshit. Because those people have never met Tristan Reece, with his sexy smirk and hotter than hell body. No one could ever be prepared for the confidence and sexual prowess that man oozes. Of course by no one. I mean me. I’m just an average woman (in every kind of way), who somehow becomes the bulls-eye on his target.

TRYST

BY ARIE LANE

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JANUARY 6, 2015