Hunger (Damnation Book 1)

Chapter 16 - Bump in the Night

I flatten my hair, trying to keep the frizz out of it. Straightening my hair is hard work, but this guy doesn't like my curls. He likes me looking like a Barbie doll. Well, I don't have all of the endowments of Barbie yet because I'm only thirteen, but I tried. I have a push up bra and some very uncomfortable undies on. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I wait for him to show up. I feel like I've been waiting for ages. My older sister, Olivia, dropped me off and I've been waiting by myself for only about an hour or so. This isn't one of those cheap motels where you would catch bedbugs just by sitting on the comforter. This place is fancy. It has plush carpet and the linens are so white; you'd think you were in Heaven. There is a full bar in the corner and the bathtub looks big enough for at least five people.

This is my first john, as my sister calls them, and I'm really scared. Daddy really wants the power over this man and apparently I can help him. I need to help him. I don't want him to send me away, too. All of my older brothers and sisters are leaving the house one by one and I don't know why. I know he keeps saying he won't send my away but I just don't believe him yet. Since Mother just dropped us off on my father's doorstep, I haven't trusted anyone other than Gilly.

My ears perk up when I hear a key card slide into the door and my heart starts pounding in my chest. I can't stop my breathing from being loud and erratic. I'm scared. Fear is not an emotion I want to live every day. Plus, from what I've learned, very few people in this world think scared is sexy. This is the first time I will do anything like this and the thought is terrifying to have a man do this to me. Not a boy, but a man. An actual man who could have probably any woman he wished, with the wealth and power he has, but instead wants a little girl. The door handle turns and I see him walk in. He's tall and slim, with dark hair and eyes. Those eyes leer at me and I can't help but tremble. Every hair is in place and he looks like the people you see on TV. He seems so perfect and unreal. Underneath that perfect exterior is a man who somehow just isn't right. I might not be worldly, having only lived in New Orleans for a few years now, but I can feel the darkness coming off him. It's not like the evil of demons or my father, but it is evil and it is crawling over my skin like bugs.

I stand quickly and can't help but back up as he stalks towards me. I want to run despite my father's orders but he's blocking the door and I have no way out. When my back hits the wall, a small cry escapes me. I raise my eyes to him and find him inches from me. My breathing quickens and I bite my lip. Panic is coursing through my veins and I just want to get out, but he's not letting me go. The air holds a pressure that is making it hard to breathe and I am panting.

"Shh," he coos. "I would never hurt something so pretty." His hand comes up and pets my hair, trailing down to trace my face. I shudder when his fingers trace over my full lips. He leads me back to the bed with a firm grip on my shoulder. "Lie down."

I wake up screaming. I haven't dreamt about that in so long. I've hated that man since that day. I had to keep going to that hotel room for two years, until I got too old for him. Once I started sassing him, I suppose I started to remind him of the wife he was trying to escape. Or, maybe I just got too many curves.

He gave me so many gifts, mostly jewelry. I only wore them around him and the minute I was finished with him, I pawned it all. God help whoever came after me, but I was just so excited to be out, I didn't care. Pulling the blanket higher around me, I try to fall asleep again. It's not the first time I've woken up from nightmares here and I'm sure it won't be the last. Being stuck here brings back all the bad memories I've fought for years to suppress. Now that I have so few pass times, they've come out rearing their many heads to torment me to no end. I don't know how much longer I can survive with the little amount of sleep I'm able to get, the meager amounts of food, or the massive amounts of power I burn through a night.

Gabriel comes in the next morning with breakfast and I just let it sit on the dresser. I'm in the corner and have the blanket wrapped around me, trying to fend off the cold that permeates this place. I couldn't go back to sleep for long after the dream. I just kept remembering everything that has happened over the years. Not only Chase's abuse, but the guys at the club who were just dogs, the Fallen who owns Triny, the guy that bruised my face, Caleb, and all the old men who could have been my grandfather, selling their souls to have a pretty girl help them relive their glory days instead of just paying a prostitute because Daddy made them a better offer. Their faces keep flying in front of my eyes and I just want to die. At least then they wouldn't haunt me any longer. Tears have dried on my face and I know I look awful.

"Angel? What's wrong?" he asks coming to sit on the mattress with me. I don't say anything. He doesn't call me by my real name, only Angel, which I find rather ironic, seeing as he thinks I'm an abomination.

When he reaches for me, I cry out, "Don't touch me." Touching me makes it real and right now I just need to not be touched.

"What's wrong?" he repeats, holding his hands up in surrender.

I shake my head and push myself into the corner even more. "Nothing you want to know about."

He sighs deeply and takes my head into his hands, forcing me to look into his eyes, no matter how much I fight. "Tell me what is bothering you."

I should have remembered he is the Truth Sayer. He can force anyone to tell him the truth. In gory detail, I tell him about every john I've ever had. My tears return and I feel as though I am purging my emotions, confessing my sins if you will. I don't hold anything back from that first john through the night when he stole me from my house. By the end of it, Gabriel is just staring at me like a wounded animal. There is so much loathing and pity in his eyes. How I'm feeling warrants such a look, I'm sure. I'm as pathetic as I look right now, but I don't care in the least.

"He made you do all of this?" he asks, appalled.

I nod. His fists ball up and I can see anger in his eyes. He hates my father. I can't help it, but sometimes, especially times like right now, I hate him too.