Can't Resist His Charm

Safe

Damian’s POV

I slam my locker door shut as I look at the phone in the palm of my hand. My younger sister, Ruby did receive my message but hadn’t replied to it.

“F*cking b*tches,” I mutter, because I know our parents are behind it. They probably had taken her phone away just as they had that night years ago with my older sibling, Page. I am scared that one day Ruby will end up… would become the object of our father’s unwanted advances and the thought sickens me.

Just over two years ago, I tried to make a report on behalf of my little sister when I saw my dad exiting her room one night but the officers were only interested in why my father’s face was bruised- yes, I had slugged him. But I was a scrawny kid back then and he beat me to a pulp. I swore on my claims about what I saw and my mother slapped my bleeding face- a face that was very similar to how my father left me a couple of nights back- and she called me a liar. She said I was making up stories like my ‘wh*re’ sister who ran away because she was too ‘wild’ to live a decent life.

Hah.

My heart was crushed that night towards the woman who birthed me. I realized then that she did believe my father when he told her his elder daughter was lying about him. See- up until then, I had given my mother, the benefit of trying to come to terms with the real truth but when she saw my bleeding body and slapped me…

I pleaded with them and even told them to ask my sister, Ruby, what he was doing to her. Ruby who was crying her eyes out then turned to the police officer and said, “He’s lying. Dad came to bring me water for I was thirsty.”

Ruby was scared I knew. I had seen our father looking at her door a few times before late at night just as I had seen him do with my older sister before. But I had not known about his sinister thoughts then- who actually thinks their father is capable of something so demonic? I could not protect my sisters from those monsters we called parents and that tore and ate away at me from the inside.

I had left the hospital that night and returned home, only to take my school bag, for I figured I’d stay the night with my best friend Chad and go to school from there. I ended up packing clothing too when I reached home, for I couldn’t stay there- I felt sick to my stomach. I took all the cash my parents had and even took some jewelry too and I never looked back.

But my father found me everywhere I went. No- he didn’t want me back home…he just wanted to ‘show me’ who was ‘boss around here’ as he called it. He beat me to a pulp the first time saying I was a thief and took the remaining jewelry back from me. No matter where I went, he found me. It’s like he and his sicko police friends thought it was pretty funny to beat up the little kid.

School is over now, so I head out to my job as a dishwasher. At first, they try to send me back home when they saw my condition but I pleaded, pointing out that they were already short-staffed as it was. Lucky me. It’s not great money but it helps and especially knowing that I need money to save up for another place, as I can kiss my deposit goodbye. I had only paid half anyway, for the homeowner saw I was flat*ss broke. She’s a good soul, I even helped her out by clearing her garden…I will never understand old people and flowers. Anyway, she loved roses and told me I had a green hand in planting…how hard could planting be anyway?

I figured I owed her for her kindness by staying away so that my dad would stay away too. She would be safe.

I am done by 9 pm and I text Bryan to pick me up. Tomorrow is Friday so I will stay until eleven and on Saturday nights too. I polish off my sandwich and ten minutes go by before he shows up in his pricey vehicle, with a big happy grin on his face. He must be living up to his dream in me right now- you know…the help the charity case …the poor, abused kid. Throw some cash his way and he’ll be happy about it…yay. I’ve seen his mother on tv and she’s one of those. The privileged sort made headlines for donating to underprivileged kids, abused women and animal shelters. The sort that made the effort to call the camera crew on every new- well maybe not every every, one but still- she called the news agencies to give a statement and a picture of her, posing in her heels and glossed-up face.

Distasteful.

I have been staying in Bryan’s room for almost a week now and nobody knows. His sister would bother him sometimes but she always knocked first- oh so polite, so I just hid in the bathroom until she left. Yeah, pretty rad, his life. I don’t really know why he’s helping me but I want to believe I am wrong about his family- well him at least and that he is a genuine person. I do not question it as I really need a place to crash.

I will ride this wave of help I am getting for the moment. Two more weeks and I’ll be gone.

Nobody is up when we enter his mansion- okay, it’s not a mansion but the house is massive. We head straight to his bedroom quickly because his sister is a night prowler. Bryan locks the door immediately and I head to his shower. I changed and headed back out walked back in, to wash my drawers. Bryan always washes his he said so I had to wash mine so the maid won’t notice anything strange. Strange…tch, he’s the strange one. Who the heck does that?

I figure he must have developed the habit when he started doing the dirty deed. Why couldn’t he just use tissue like everyone else? Tch.

I must admit, his clothing is the best. My clothes are good don’t get me wrong but his were just better smelling and softer. It kept the cold away too. It’s nice to have good shoes on my feet also as I usually wear mine till, they rip and if I can repair them, I do. This will save me some money too as Bryan told me I can keep what I wear. Nice to be that rich.

Don’t get me wrong, my parents did provide as good parents should- food, clothing, love and shelter, for me well... before all the mess but the past few years have taken a toll on my mental. I had to fight to keep my food and clothing at times. Life has been such a f*cking roller coaster for me. It’s nice to be here in clean air, clean fresh food, warm bed- no cold. Not wondering if someone is going to break my flimsy door lock…

Here, I finally feel safe.

“Did you brush up?” he murmurs from beneath his comforter yawning and I freeze. No, I did not. See I have been brushing once a day, for years now as cash was tight and only brushed more when I had dates. Bryan reminds me to brush my teeth every night and to floss…I hated flossing.

“By the way, we have to use one towel now, Gloria said Gail asked her if I had company over because she picked up two wet towels.”

Gail is another maid, the one who cleans while Gloria cooks. Two other staff members also, the driver and another maid who is on vacation. Oh yeah, there is also a cleaner and a gardener- what’s the difference you ask? Well, the cleaner assists both the maids and the gardener but they call him the all-around ‘pool boy’, who is a grown man in his forties by the way. The life of the rich and glamorous.

“And what did you say?” I ask him with a slight frown, remembering to watch my manners, for I don’t have enough cash saved up to move out yet. Use the same towel? That’s just the dirtiest-

“Gloria covered for me. She said Mel was here. Oh, and keep your voice low…like really low, my sister is nosey,” he whispers.

Well, why can’t Mel always be here if and when this fast Gail found the towels again?

Sighing I turn to head back in the bathroom. And as if he had read my thoughts he mumbles sleepily, “Don’t want Mel to be caught off guard one day. Just use my towel.”

Well beggars can’t be choosers now, can they?

I stare at my discoloured face, the bruising yellow now. I smile for this means it’s healing properly. I’d hate to have a scar on my face where all the world could see. I wince for I had clenched my jaw a bit too tightly and the muscle pulled had stretched the flesh on my wound.

Walking back into the bedroom, I see Bryan is already fast asleep. I pull Kelty out from under his bed- oh Kelty is what he calls a sleeping bag and I snuggle in and fall asleep immediately.