Underestimated u-1 Read online

Page 5


  Lauren and I sat out on my deck and listened to country music and drank a six pack of beer.

  “Levi asked me for your number,” Lauren said, propping her feet up to the adjacent chair.

  “Don’t you dare,” I scolded.

  “Don’t you want to start dating? I mean you have to be getting frustrated by now.”

  “I am not the least bit frustrated,” I lied, but didn’t truly know that I was lying until that moment. Maybe that would help, maybe I did need some relief, but I didn’t need Levi or any other man to take care of it. I was perfectly capable of it myself.

  “How long were you married,” she nosily continued.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Six years.”

  “Wow. What did you do get married when you were eighteen?”

  I didn’t have to answer that question or any more. Her cellphone rang, and it was Joel telling her he was at her house, wanting to know where she was.

  “Gotta go, duty calls,” she joked.

  I sat on the deck and stared off into the moonlit ocean. I dumped my warm beer over the side railing and heated a nice cup of Starlight’s relaxing tea instead. I wrapped myself up in my fuzzy blanket and listened to the waves as they collided with the boulders below. This along with my tea was just what I needed to unwind. It didn’t last long when my mind reflected on Lauren’s comment about getting married when I was eighteen.

  I was exactly eighteen. Drew was there to claim me on my eighteenth birthday. I thought about the weeks before my birthday, and how much the anticipation burned my soul. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing that night as I lay in my thin walled bedroom and listened to the nice looking man who offered my father twenty five thousand dollars to marry me.

  I didn’t even know who he was. I had seen him once. He had come to our worn out school and did a seminar after donating five thousand dollars. I remembered sitting right in front of him and listening to him talk about success and getting out of our situations and how valuable our educations were for our future. I admired him.

  I shook my head at how infatuated I was with him that day. He was so cute and dressed like nothing I had ever seen before. He had actually inspired me. I no longer wanted to stay in that poverty stricken town. I wanted out. I wanted to wear fancy clothes like he wore, and drive expensive cars.

  He sat beside me on the bottom bleacher once the gym had cleared out. I was in no hurry to go home and often hung around school to keep from it.

  “You’re a very pretty girl,” he said, and my faced turned the darkest shade of red possible.

  “Thanks,” I said with my head down. How could he say that I was pretty? I was wearing Good Will clothes, and my sneakers were lace-less. My hair was too long and straggly looking, and I didn’t own any makeup. Not that my dad would have ever let me wear it anyway. He didn’t want me to be a whore like my mom.

  I should have run that day. I should have started walking and never looked back.

  “You should look at me when I am talking to you,” he said, and I looked up. I had to. I was already afraid of him, and I didn’t even know his name.

  “I’m Drew,” he said.

  “I’m Morgan,” I replied and looked down and then right back up.

  He laughed, and I didn’t think I had ever seen such perfect teeth in my life.

  “I am going to marry you, Morgan,” he said. I remember choking on my own saliva.

  I got up and walked out of the gym, listening to him laugh as I did.

  Why would he say that? Why would someone like him want to marry someone like me?

  I went to bed that night thinking about Drew, and living the life of luxury. I fell asleep dreaming of the perfect life with the man with the perfect teeth. That dream soon turned into a nightmare when I swore I heard him in my house talking to my father. It was late, very late, and the thin walls did nothing to conceal the private conversation.

  I could tell by my dad’s slurring words that he was drunk. I lay on the mattress on my floor, trying to stop my racing heart.

  “So you’re telling me that you want to marry my daughter, and you’re willing to pay me twenty five thousand dollars to do so?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I wasn’t property. He couldn’t sell me. I knew he was going to punch him in the face and tell him to get the hell out of his house.

  “That’s right, Mr. Willow, but there is one condition that is nonnegotiable.”

  “What?” my father asked.

  “She has to be pure. If she’s not, I don’t want her.”

  “You mean a virgin?”

  “Yes, that is exactly what I mean.”

  “Well I can guarantee that she is, or she better damn well be anyway, but I didn’t say she was for sale.”

  “And what are you going to do with her when she turns eighteen? You know that you are going to lose her welfare and food stamps.”

  “I didn’t say she wasn’t for sale either, did I?”

  What? This couldn’t be happening. You don’t sell people. This wasn’t some third world country. This was America. Things like that don’t happen here.

  “Watch you want a girl like her for anyway? I betcha you could have any girl you wanted.”

  “Oh I could, but, it’s time for me to settle down.”

  “And no other girls will marry you?”

  “Oh I have plenty of women that would love to marry me. I am not interested in spoiled little rich girls. I want a pure girl that can be trained to be the kind of wife that I want.”

  Trained? What the hell does that mean?

  “Fifty thousand,” my dad spat out.

  “Thank you for your time, Mr. Willow,” he stood to leave, and I was praying that my dad let him.

  “Thirty thousand,” he retorted, and I couldn’t believe what was going on.

  “You’ve got yourself a deal,” he said. I was sure they were shaking on it.

  The next three weeks were pure hell. My dad drove me to school every day and picked me up, insuring that I stayed pure. He didn’t go out drinking for three weeks and wouldn’t even let me go out after graduation. We attended the ceremony, stopped at the liquor store and went home to our dumpy little trailer. That was the night that he told me my plans to marry a rich man that was going to take care of me. He tried to make it sound like I was going to be living the life of luxury and he was doing it for my own good. He had forgotten to mention that he was also receiving thirty thousand dollars for selling me off.

  I would like to say that my eighteenth birthday was the worst day of my life, but I had many worse days of my life. Drew was there at eight o’clock in the morning to claim me. I had gotten sick so many times during the night, hyperventilating and dry heaving for hours.

  He had two men with him. One carried a leather bag, sort of like and old timey doctor’s bag. I stayed in my room, rocking back and forth on my mattress, willing this not to be happening.

  My dad yelled for me, and I couldn’t move. I stayed sitting on the mattress staring at the door with my heart in my stomach. He opened the door and the man carrying the bag that I had watched through the window came in with Drew.

  “This nice man is going to exam you a little Morgan,” my dad explained.

  Exam me? What the fuck?

  My dad stepped out, and Drew closed the door behind him.

  “I need you to undress from the waist down,” the man said, and I was in panic mode. I wasn’t about to take my jeans off in front of either one of them, let alone let him touch me.

  I looked at Drew, and he stood in his fancy suit and tie wearing a smirk.

  “Why?” I managed to say.

  “We just want to make sure that you are not damaged.”

  “I’m not,” I all but yelled.

  “Take your pants off, Morgan,” Drew said with his dark eyes that scared the hell out of me.

  I didn’t know what to do. This was going to happen whether I wanted it to or not.

  After not moving and staring a
t the two of them in shock, Drew finally squatted to my face and put both of his hands on my knees. “We have a plane waiting on us, Morgan,” he smiled.

  “I don’t want to go with you,” I demanded.

  He grabbed both my ankles and pulled me flat on my back. I could only stare in total shock. He unbuttoned my jeans and slid them off with my panties in one swift move. I crossed my ankles and covered myself with my hands.

  “Spread your legs, Morgan,” Drew spoke while the doctor or whatever he was removed a light and some sort of silver tool.

  I couldn’t even cry. I didn’t know what emotions were transpiring as I lay there and trembled.

  “Now!” he demanded.

  I slowly opened my legs and squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t know which one of them was even touching me. I thought that Drew had been the one who pulled my knees up, exposing my very personal sex. I jumped when I felt the instrument penetrate me and then felt the warmth from the light between my legs.

  “Her Hymen is fully intact,” the man examining me said, pulling the tool from my vagina. I jumped again.

  He stepped out leaving me alone with Drew.

  “Get dressed, we have to go,” he said, and that was when the tears started.

  This was really happening. My dad was really going to let this man take me. Drew squatted down to me again and placed his hands on my bare knees after pulling me back to a sitting position.

  “No tears, Morgan. I am doing you the biggest favor of your life. You are going to live like a queen and all you have to do to earn it is listen to me. Now get dressed. We are leaving,” he demanded with a clinched jaw and a look that frightened me to the core. He moved my knees apart and looked down. I quickly snapped them back together. He snickered.

  I dressed quickly and pulled on my sneakers.

  My dad never said a word as I was led from the trailer. He was too busy counting the dollar bills and anticipating his night at the bar.

  I rode in the back seat with Drew, and the two other men sat up front. We drove in silence other than Drew being on his phone talking business and getting mad because of the poor reception. We were driven for almost two hours, and I wondered where I was going. Where was I going to be living? He said we had a plane to catch, but we kept driving and driving. Finally, we arrived at a small airport and Drew led me by my elbow to the private jet.

  I looked around, wondering if I could run, knowing that I couldn’t.

  “Bring us back some refreshments once we are in the air,” Drew told the man that didn’t exam me. I would soon learn that this man was around a lot.

  I was now nervous about flying. I had never been on a plane. Hell, I had never been out of the mountains.

  Drew directed me to the leather seat and told me to put my seatbelt on. The white leather was the softest thing I had ever felt in my life, and although I was scared shitless about my future, I couldn’t help but to be a little excited about the flight.

  Drew sat beside me and buckled in, as well. Once we were up, I looked out the small window and was in awe of gliding through the clouds. He touched my hair and smiled at me. I flinched and pulled away.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “Las Vegas,” he answered.

  “Las Vegas?” I asked.

  “Did you not hear me the first time?” he snidely remarked.

  I didn’t know how to respond. He obviously expected some other reply, but I didn’t know what it was, so I didn’t say anything. I stared out the window, wondering what lay ahead.

  I wasn’t a dummy. I knew the distance between West Virginia and Las Vegas. I couldn’t believe that I was going that many miles from the only home I had ever known. Would I ever see my brother again? How would my mom ever find me? My dad could rot in hell. I didn’t care if I ever saw him again.

  The man brought two glasses of wine along with some cheese and crackers. Drew handed me the glass of wine, and I sipped it. I didn’t like it and thought it was bitter and sweet. I of course drank it, and the cheese and crackers helped settle my stomach. I had never tasted such rich cheese in my life. If I did eat cheese it was the wrapped imitation kind with not much flavor at all.

  I was brought back to current when I sipped my empty cup of tea. It was a lot easier to tell myself that I was going to move here and never think about my previous twenty five years on this earth than it was to actually do it. Maybe I should seek counseling. No. No. I just need to occupy my mind and stop thinking about the past. I liked my job. I loved Lauren, and my house was perfect for me. I even loved the rough terrain beach.

  I woke in a panic once again, too early. I sat up and calmed my speeding heart. I was getting used to talking myself down. I thought about the dream and wondered why it always went back to my childhood. I got up and looked out the window. The moon was full and had a misty halo circling it. I could see Justin screaming for me not to let the social worker take him. He was so little and scared. All I could do is watch them take him. They didn’t take me because the lady explained that nobody would want a seventeen year old girl and that I was old enough to take care of myself. She promised that I could see him, but every time I called, she had a different excuse as to why I couldn’t.

  I showered even though I should have gone back to bed. I pulled on my new cotton panties and fuzzy socks. I checked myself out in the full length mirror, hanging on the back of my bedroom door. My jeans fit much better than the ones that I had brought with me. I wore one of my new shirts as well, and that too looked good on me. It fit snug and hugged my body in all the right places. I pulled a white button up shirt overtop. I knew I should have worn my old clothes. I was going to get dirty. I was sure of it.

  I pulled up to the curb of the coffee shop, knowing that it was closed on Sundays, I didn’t have to worry about taking any parking spaces. I made one pot of coffee for myself and looked around. Where do I begin? I was sure the place had never had a good cleaning, and after a week, my OCD couldn’t take it a second longer. I knew I could rearrange things to make better use of the space. It was a decent size store. It was just going to take more manpower than me. Maybe I could talk Lauren into helping me. I decided that I would start at the very front and work my way back. I needed to work on the front while the store was closed.

  I poured a cup of the delicious coffee and started on the windows. Wow. These things have never been cleaned. I cleaned the windowsills first, using three buckets of water to rid the wood from the dust and grime. Starlight definitely wasn’t the cleaning type. After cleaning the wood trim I decided that I should clean the walls, as well. I was sure that they had never had a good scrubbing either.

  The sun was just coming up, and I was almost finished with the front wall. I was astounded at the difference between the front wall and the side walls. They weren’t tan after all. They were a very unique pale yellow. I liked it. I was just finishing up with the window cleaner on the door when I heard the tap on the glass. I peeked down from the chair that I had been using for a ladder and hopped down.

  “Kind of early for criminals eh, sheriff?” I asked, opening the door for Dawson.

  “Or late,” he replied, stepping in, “and I told you, call me Dawson.”

  “What can I do for you?” I asked, not wanting to stop my task at hand. I was making good time, and I wanted to keep at it.

  “I just got off of the night shift and saw the lights on here. What on earth are you doing here this time of morning?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Couldn’t sleep, I have had this on my mind since I started working here, so I decided to get up and get it done.”

  “Wow,” he said turning to the clean storefront.

  “I know. Isn’t it nice?”

  “It’s amazing,” he said, not believing the difference. “You have a cup of coffee?” he asked, walking to the pot not giving me time to answer.

  No. I don’t. I want you to leave. I don’t have time for entertaining.

  “Sure, help yourself.”

 
I didn’t stop to chat or entertain. I emptied my mop bucket again and started on the next wall, hoping he took the hint. He didn’t. He sat at the table and watched.

  “You know coffee has caffeine. I would think after working the night shift you would want to go home and sleep,” I tried.

  “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  Yes. That is exactly what I am trying to do.

  “No, not at all, but if you stick around too long, I might put you to work.”

  “Let me go home and change, and I would be happy to help you.”

  I was speechless for a moment. I was joking. I didn’t think he would take me up on it.

  I laughed. “Thanks, but I’m okay. You should get some sleep.”

  “I actually won’t go to bed until tonight. I am on days during the week, and if I sleep, I will be all messed up and won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

  “Thanks for the offer but I couldn’t ask you to help me.”

  “I don’t think you asked, Riley. I think I offered.”

  Now what the hell was I supposed to do? I could use some muscles to help me move the shelves, and I would really like to move the cash register counter closer to the door.

  “You’ll get dishpan hands.”

  “I’m a bachelor. I am used to dishpan hands.”

  Great, just what I need, a bachelor.

  I turned to look at him, trying to think of something to say. I noticed how handsome he was and how nice he looked in uniform. He had a military cut, and I could tell that he was very well built. He was wearing a five o’clock shadow and had the bluest eyes I had ever seen. I wondered if they were contacts.

  What the hell is wrong with you, Morgan? You are not getting involved with a man. Forget it.

  I broke our gaze and turned back to wiping the wall. I still hadn’t said anything, and had no idea what to say. I had never in my life said no to a man. I wasn’t trained that way.

  “It’s settled. I’ll see you in an hour.”

  Dawson left, and I sank to the floor. I didn’t want him to help. I didn’t want him around. I jumped when my cellphone started singing something about having a girl’s night out. I knew it was Lauren. Every time she was around she was changing the ringtone on my phone.