Bruised Angel (River of Lies #2) (2 page)

This time her father instead began to touch her roughly about her bottom and genitals. Chelsea’s eyes prickled with tears and when he forced her to spread her legs a rogue tear streamed down her face.

“Don’t you dare cry” the fat woman screamed into Chelsea’s face, spittle splashing on her skin.

Chelsea shuddered and felt the urge to vomit begin to rise. The sudden sting on her face from the fat hand of the disgusting woman shook the tears away and the vomit swallowed back down into her stomach.

That night Chelsea sobbed silently in her bed, crying for her Mum to come back and save her. Carl had never been mean to her before, he had never touched her like that, his cuddles had always just been cuddles, they never hurt before and they never made her feel sick. Chelsea didn’t understand what had happened to her father.

The next morning she woke up and realised that she was lying in a pool of urine. Panic gripped at her chest as beads of sweat prickled at her forehead. Quickly Chelsea leapt from her bed and stripped the sheet, shoving it into the back of her cupboard, she crept to the linen closet and pulled out a fresh sheet and remade her bed. Breathing only once it was done and she was safely on her way to school.

When Chelsea arrived home that afternoon her father was standing in the living room with the fat woman beside him and in their hands was the urine soaked sheet. The woman held it in front of her and pointed to the dried yellow stained patch in the centre of the sheet.

“What’s this?” she roared.

Chelsea winced and dropped her head. She hadn’t meant to wet the bed, she didn’t even realise that she needed to go to the toilet; it just came out. Again the tears began to dribble down over her cheeks as the fear grew in the pit of her stomach of what the punishment would be. What Chelsea could never conceive was just how bad the punishment could get. Bile rose in Chelsea’s throat at the thought of what her father made her do to him with her mouth. She felt Mason rub her back again while she told them the story, leaving out the real gory details. She could sense Knox’s tension as she spoke. Chelsea couldn’t bring herself to look at either Knox or Mason.

“What kind of girl lets her own father do that?” she hiccupped a sob.

Knox stood and stepped towards her clasping her shoulders, she kept her eyes firmly on her shoes as he ambled his way to his knees and lifted her head to look at him.

“Never, ever think this was your fault. Do you understand me?” he said with a tender voice.

Chelsea couldn’t control the tears that flowed from her eyes as she nodded and quickly refocused her attention back onto her shoes.

“How long did it go on for?” Mason asked.

Chelsea looked quickly over at him, his face was pale, but there was a fury in his eyes that scared her.

“Until I shot him. The woman left when I was about twelve, but he continued to touch me and make me touch him.” she said embarrassed having to admit that she couldn’t stop him, even at seventeen.

Mason’s hand tightened on her back and Chelsea moved her focus back onto her shoes.

She was ashamed of everything that had happened, she could have run away when she was old enough, but she continued to let him do those things to her. Worse than that, she continued to do the things he expected her to do to him.

The bile rose again, but this time she couldn’t hold it in, Chelsea leapt to her feet, knocking Knox back onto his backside as she raced to the door that Mason had taken the bin earlier. She was relieved when she saw it was a bathroom and she fell to her knees on the cold tiles beside the toilet. The vomit burnt her throat and she felt like she was going to stop breathing with the sheer force in which it ejected from her lips. She felt Mason come into the room behind her and pull her dark hair from her face. Tears mingled with the vomit as she sat on the bathroom floor.

When finally she had purged everything she leant back and sat on the cold tiles, wiping the tears from her face. She looked up and saw Knox in the doorway, his face was creased in what seemed like anger and concern. Mason was as white as a ghost, but his eyes had a fire of fury burning deep in them. Chelsea knew that anger wasn’t aimed at her. She could read that in the way he tenderly touched her back, careful not to touch her anywhere that would make her uncomfortable.

“I’ll get Kelly and she will get you washed up” Knox said.

“It’s alright, I don’t want to be any trouble” Chelsea said slowly standing and looking between them both. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here. I’ve pulled you both into something I should never have done”

She had never told anyone her secret and the fear of Mason telling everyone was racing through her mind. Chelsea didn’t know whether Carl was dead or alive and she didn’t really care. She knew that she could take care of herself. At that point even going to jail was better than spending one more day under the hand of her father. Seventeen years of his rule was too much already. Knox looked down at Chelsea and shook his head.

“What are you going to do?” he asked folding his arms across his chest.

Chelsea shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.

“I’ll go to the police station, I’ll take the gun with me and hand myself in. Being in jail has to be better than being with him” she spat with a little nod of her head indicating her father.

Knox shook his head.

“Trust me girl, jail is no place to be. Leave it with me. Are you sure you killed him?” Knox asked.

Chelsea shook her head. In truth she had no idea.

“I shot him in the stomach, he was unconscious when I left. I don’t know” she said as she ran her hand over her face, exhaustion was beginning to set in.

Chelsea realised that although she was filled with fear she felt an air of lightness from sharing her story. She felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“Alright leave it with me, we have friends in the police force, they will be able to tell us what’s going on” Knox said turning to leave. “Get her some of Kelly’s clothes and let her have a shower, then get her something to eat”.

Mason nodded at his father as Knox turned and left.

“There are some towels in that cupboard there” Mason said pointing to the little cupboard under the basin. “You can either have a shower or a bath it’s up to you. I’ll leave you some clothes in my room and will stand at the door to make sure no one comes in”

Chelsea managed to work up a small smile for him with a little nod. As Mason turned to leave, she reached out and touched on his shoulder. Mason turned to face her.

“Thank you Mason” she said fighting back another batch of tears.

Mason nodded and gave her a tight lipped smile as he leant forward and kissed her forehead gently. He left shutting the door quietly behind him. Chelsea listened to him bustle around his bedroom. She started the water of the bath when she heard him shut his bedroom door.  Chelsea soaked in the bath for a long time, it felt so good, her exhaustion seeped through her body and all she wanted to do was sleep.

Chapter Two

As Chelsea dried her body that had become wrinkled and warm, she fought to keep her mind from pondering on her father. She didn’t know whether he was dead or not. She didn’t know what would happen next. Questions flooded her brain, was she going to be arrested? Where would she live? What would she do? Chelsea fought back the tears with a groan as she swiped the towel over her face. She opened the bathroom door and poked her head out into the bedroom, it was empty and laid out on the bed was some clothes. She slowly stepped onto the fluffy carpet under her feet and looked around the room; anyone could have been mistaken to think it was a normal house in the suburbs rather than a bike gang club room. It was nothing like she assumed, not that she had given it much thought, but the years she had spent walking past the chapter house it had always seemed so cold and tough, not containing fluffy carpet, beautifully painted walls and draped windows.

Chelsea reached out and picked up the clothes from the bed, it wasn’t really the style that she normally wore, but it would have to do. Her clothes, she hadn’t realised were covered in blood. Chelsea slipped into the tight jeans and t-shirt which she felt didn’t cover enough of her body, the jeans hugged every part of her, she felt so uncomfortable, but it was better than being at home with the monster she finally got the guts to stand up to.

“Mason? Are you out there?” Chelsea gingerly called.

She heard a shuffle at the door before the knob gently turned and the door opened. Mason had started to regain his colour, however his eyes still shone with the fire of hell and fury. As he stepped into the room, he looked Chelsea up and down before frowning.

“Well it’s not really what you’re used to wearing, but once Dad works out what is going on we will be able to go back to your house and get your clothes. You should be a bit more comfortable then” Mason said smiling gently closing the door softly behind him.

Chelsea looked down over her body again. She was by no means fat, she didn’t have to diet or do loads of exercise to stay thin. Her breasts weren’t huge but they were big enough. Chelsea didn’t think she was sexy or pretty, but she knew that she was attractive enough. To be honest she never really gave much thought to her looks. Her father would always tell her that she was ugly, because she wore baggy clothes and her hair over her face. If only he knew that the reason she did that was to appear ugly to him.  She found that the baggier the clothes, the dirtier they were, the greasier her hair, he would touch her less. She wished she could have got fat, it was something he always told her he hated, but it didn’t seem to matter how much she ate, she never got fat.

Her father controlled all that she ate at home, but her best friend Dylan, used to bring extra food to school and she would eat until she felt sick. However, no matter how much Chelsea ate the most she got was  a small pot belly. She read once that stress could make a person lose weight and she often wondered if that was the reason she was so small. She was shaken from her thoughts by Mason rummaging around his room. Chelsea turned to watch him pull out a knife and shove it into a bag.

“What are you going to do with that?” Chelsea asked as panic began to grip at her.

Mason glanced up and was able to read the fear that creased her face. He came to her and put his arm tentatively around her shoulder. She could tell that he was being careful how he touched her, a little unsure how to treat her. Chelsea appreciated his carefulness but the truth was she wanted him to wrap her up in his arms and keep her safe and wash away all the memories, to chase everything away, to tell her that all these years she had been in a coma and everything she thought she had experienced was nothing more than a bad dream. Chelsea leant forward and rested her head on Mason’s chest. She felt him stiffen at first then relax and pull her tight into him.

The tears sprung forth again, dripping down her cheeks, before dissolving into huge hiccupping sobs. Mason guided her to sit on the bed beside him where he continued to hold her tight, rocking her slightly. Little by little she began to feel the weight lift from her as she brought him into her world and he brought her out of her world.

“Mason am I a horrible person that I don’t care if he lives or dies?” Chelsea asked looking up into Mason’s face.

She could see that he too had been crying, his eyes were darkened and his face tear stained. He shook his head and kissed her hair.

“Not at all. I hope that fucker is dead Chels. I really do” Mason said with a growl.

His voice was deep and husky from a mix of anger and tears.  Chelsea rested her head back onto Mason’s chest as he stroked her hair. She was almost asleep when commotion outside the door had her up off the bed and running for the bathroom door.

“Maggie for fucks sake this is no good for her” Knox shouted as the door burst open.

Chelsea was in the bathroom doorway, Mason was standing between her and the bedroom door and bustling her way into the room, was a woman with bleached blonde hair, eyes of dark green and bright red lipstick. Her face paled when she looked at Chelsea.

“Oh my sweet” she cried as she stepped towards Chelsea.

Mason stepped towards the woman and prevented her to come closer to Chelsea.

“What do you think you’re doing? I want to see my daughter” the woman spat.

Chelsea shook her head while she watched the commotion.

“Mum?” Chelsea said quietly.

The woman smiled broadly and took advantage of Mason being distracted, dodging around past him and taking Chelsea by the shoulders. Her eyes welled with tears as she looked into Chelsea’s face. Chelsea stared up into her mother’s face trying to find something that helped her to recognise her. But this woman wasn’t the woman Chelsea remembered. When her mother was still around she had soft dark hair like Chelsea’s not this bleached job. She was a complete stranger. A stranger who had abandoned her twelve years previously, a stranger who had left her in the hands of not only one but two monsters, Chelsea shook her head and shrugged Maggie’s hands off her shoulders, before reaching up and slapping her face with a stinging slap.