Auctioned Virginity

Chapter 3

5 Years Ago

Music blasted through my headphones, drowning out the sound of the wind and rain pelting the outside of our single-wide trailer. Storms terrified me, and distractions were my only coping mechanism. My head bobbed to the beat while I scribbled down the answers to my math homework, solving each problem with ease.

Faintly, I heard a booming rattle, different than the thunder that shook the floor, and pulled the buds from my ears. This time, when it came again, I knew it was someone at the front door and I stiffened. The only people that came here since Nana died were hardly people at all. But no one had bothered us in months. I'd started to believe Vanessa was getting better.

A moment later the door opened, then closed. Voices sounded in the living room. One was undoubtedly male.

I sucked in a sharp breath, heart beginning to pound.

The landlord maybe. Or...the guy that sold her the stuff she took that made her so mean?

No, she said she was done with all that, and I believe her. She didn't look sick anymore.

This voice was deeper. Gruffer. A lump lodged itself in my throat, and I tried to swallow it down.

"Julie! Come out here please," Vanessa called. Her tone was unusually pleasant. I took a steadying breath, setting my pencil atop the sheets of schoolwork before standing.

In the living room, a tall man with dark, golden skin stood in a suit behind Vanessa. His eyes were dark, his hair even darker.

He was kind of scary looking, and a stark contrast to my mother's wan skin and blonde hair that used to be shiny.

Vanessa smiled brightly at me. "Julie, this is Romero. We've been dating for a little while. I thought it was time you two met." Looking up at him like he personally formed the mountains and carved out rivers, she added, "Maybe we could all go out to dinner or something."

"It's nice to meet you, Julietta," Romero said. His voice was deep and rich. My name sounded almost pretty when he said it. But still I just blinked from him to my mother and back again.

After a moment, I shook my head, staring down at the pale carpet riddled with burn marks. "Another boyfriend. Cool, well I've got schoolwork to do." Turning, I started to exit the room when my mother reached for me, grabbing my shoulder, and spinning me around.

"Don't be rude, Jules. He's not just another boyfriend. We're in love and we'll be getting married."

My eyes went wide. I'd assumed her getting clean had been in part due to me. She'd seemed happier and I thought it was because we were finally getting to know each other. But no. It was him.

Of course it was.

"Married?" I choked on the word. "A-already?"

Vanessa's lips pursed together. "Yes," she said tightly.

Romero took a step forward, drawing my attention back to him. I retreated a step, involuntarily, and he froze. An apologetic look crossed his handsome features.

"Your mother and I have been friends for several years. We decided you'd both be happier in a bigger space. It won't happen right away, of course. But I want you to be happy." His gaze seemed to penetrate me on a cellular level, and it made my limbs tremble. "Both of you."

I heard what he wasn't saying. That we both needed to be looked after. Vanessa might be clean right now, but it wouldn't last forever. No one that used as much as she did had ever succeeded long term. Multiple stints in rehab didn't work. What business did she have in uprooting our lives—uprooting my life—for some guy that she'd leave in a few months?

Shaking my head, I shot her a disgusted look. "So the last few months of you being sober—of us being happy—had nothing to do with me then? I knew I wasn't good enough for you. But maybe he is. I hope you two will be very happy together." Whirling on my heel I ran for my room, ignoring my mother who shouted after me.

I slammed the door behind myself before throwing myself down on my squeaky, old, rusting bed. Tears rushed from me, soaking the musty blanket beneath me. My sobs were uncontrollable, coming out more like screams.

A soft click came from behind me, and I twisted, springing off the bed in one jolting motion. Vanessa's boyfriend stood in the doorway.

"Don't you dare fucking touch me," I warned. My knife was on my desk and I couldn't help but glance at it, wondering if I could make it to it in time.

Romero's brows kissed as a moment of confusion settled on his face. Then it changed to disgust. He stalked across the room and stopped in front of the desk, plucking up the knife. I took a step back, preparing to sprint from the room, when he extended the folded-up blade to me.

"I don't want you to ever feel unsafe around me, Julietta. I know as well as you do the monsters that exist in this world."

My hand wrapping around the hilt of the knife before, springing the blade free. I stared up at him warily, but the concern etched on his features only deepened.

"I'm sorry that one as young as you has already had to face those monsters."

My mom had had a few boyfriends that snuck into my room while she was coked out or when they thought I was asleep. The first one got the farthest. His bony hand sliding under my blanket to caress my thigh. When I woke up and realized what he was doing, I screamed.

And I didn't stop screaming until he fled. I was eight.

When I told Nana, she'd gifted me the blade that I slept with under my pillow ever since for the times when my mother insisted I come home with her.

"Why are you in here?" I asked.

His lips tilted up in one corner. "Look," he undid the bottom button on his jacket before crouching down so we were eye-to-eye. "I know all about your mom. She's a great woman when she focuses on something other than herself. I can help with that. You'll have a bigger house. A new bed. You'll want for nothing. I won't hurt her. Or you."

My nose wrinkled. "You'll never be my dad. I don't have a dad."

Romero's smile grew. "Fair enough. But we can be friends. Would that be alright?"

I huffed. "I don't know. I have enough friends honestly."

He chuckled. "How about you give me a six-month trial run? After that, you can decide if we're friends or not. Fair?"

I couldn't help but smile, though it was faint, weighed down by years of mistrust. "Alright, Romero. Six months." Holding out my hand for him to shake, I wiped my tear-stained face with the other.

"Nice doing business with you, Julietta," Romero said before taking my hand in his much larger one and shaking it.