Feathers: A Novel

  Feathers – A Novel © 2019 by KSC Publishing

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, titles, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Cover Design: Kellie Dennis, Book Cover by Design

  https://www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk/

  Proofreading: Jenny Sims

  www.editing4indies.com

  Formatting: Brenda Wright

  https://www.facebook.com/FormattingDoneWright/

  DEDICATION

  To my husband. You are my favorite person and there is no one else I would rather take this journey with than you.

  SPECIAL THANKS TO …

  Mika Jolie, Lindsay Clark, and Jade Borg who are the best Alpha readers and encouragers in the world. You ladies are amazing and I couldn’t have done this without you.

  Xxoo,

  Kylie

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One: Charlotte

  Chapter Two: Charlotte

  Chapter Three: Hawk

  Chapter Four: Charlotte

  Chapter Five: Charlotte

  Chapter Six: Charlotte

  Chapter Seven: Hawk

  Chapter Eight: Charlotte

  Chapter Nine: Charlotte

  Chapter Ten: Hawk

  Chapter Eleven: Charlotte

  Chapter Twelve: Hawk

  Chapter Thirteen: Charlotte

  Chapter Fourteen: Hawk

  Chapter Fifteen: Charlotte

  Chapter Sixteen: Hawk

  Chapter Seventeen: Charlotte

  Chapter Eighteen: Hawk

  Chapter Nineteen: Charlotte

  Chapter Twenty: Hawk

  Chapter Twenty-One: Hawk

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Charlotte

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Hawk

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Charlotte

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Hawk

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Charlotte

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Hawk

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: Charlotte

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: Hawk

  Chapter Thirty: Charlotte

  Chapter Thirty-One: Hawk

  Chapter Thirty-Two: Charlotte

  Chapter Thirty-Three: Hawk

  Chapter Thirty-Four: Charlotte

  Chapter Thirty-Five: Hawk

  Chapter Thirty-Six: Charlotte

  Chapter Thirty-Seven: Hawk

  Chapter Thirty-Eight: Charlotte

  Chapter Thirty-Nine: Charlotte

  Chapter Forty: Hawk

  Chapter Forty-One: Charlotte

  Playlist

  About the Author

  Other books by Kylie Stewart

  Wings – A Novella

  Chapter One

  Charlotte

  Winter

  I barely remember how or why I’d been sold.

  I never argued about my past life with the bad men because defiance begot violence. Sleepless nights were spent shivering on the cold, wet basement floor, barefoot and only wearing a tattered nightgown. I learned quickly that arguments meant a heavy hand slapping me or punching me wherever they deemed fit.

  The small iron-clad shackle rooting me to the broken flagstone floor had to be changed twice in my time there.

  Twice.

  Did that mean I grew?

  Or did the metal shrink?

  I didn’t ask because questions begot violence. Days and sometimes weeks went by with mere table scraps or nothing to eat at all. But I was forced to watch the men stuff their faces full of delicious smelling food while my stomach knotted around itself in grief.

  The day I began to bleed, and not from their punishments or my own struggle to end this terrible, terrible suffering, was the worst in my life.

  When I complained of a strange pain in my stomach, they kicked me between them like a soccer ball. I tried so hard not to scream because screaming begot violence.

  A whisper begot violence.

  A look begot violence.

  Living was violence.

  And then they took me away from that basement. Released me from the shackle I’d grown to call my friend. Led me outside into the blinding light and shoved me in a van that smelled like vomit and body odor.

  I couldn’t see much from my seat on the floor of the vehicle, and I feared if I looked up, the man sitting in the back would hit me. So I looked down, just as I’d been trained to do. Looked down at what they’d made me.

  Blood, dirt, and God knew what else stained my legs. Digging at the stone floor, begging for a way out, had caused jagged and raw nails on my fingers. Long mats of what was once pale, blond hair now clumped around my face coated in black sludge.

  The tattered nightgown I wore didn’t cover much, and the scarlet splotches told a sad story about a little girl who’d grown into a young woman and never even knew the difference.

  Opening and closing my fists, I fought back tears. If I cried, they’d know because a track of clean skin on my dirty face would betray me. Because of course, tears also begot violence.

  When the van came to a jolting halt, the man in the back grabbed me by the arm. “Come on, you worthless brat.”

  He dragged me out onto a drive littered with jagged rocks that sliced my already broken feet. Harsh rays of sun burned my eyes. I blinked hard against the blazing agony. The man who’d driven knocked on a stone house’s front entrance. Large and imposing. Cold and unwelcoming. Another place where my very existence would beget violence.

  With a trembling chin and rattling heart, I stood next to the two men wearing winter jackets. I wore nothing but my telltale nightgown, shivering against the wind.

  The door creaked open on its hinges, and an older woman leered at the men holding me. She arched a thin brow, looking them up and down with utter disdain. And then her gaze found mine. I stared back into old gray eyes, allowing this new stranger to understand nothing was left inside. There might be a girl of only fourteen standing before her, but that girl’s soul was dead.

  She’d set it free on wings of fire a long time ago in order to survive the hell facing her. There would be no flying for her while the invisible shackle kept her grounded. But then something peculiar happened. The woman smiled at me.

  Warmth crept into her gaze, and she stretched her hand out first to the men, handing them a thick white envelope, and then she reached for me.

  “Hello, Lottie.” Her voice flowed like a calm stream. A babbling brook, lulling and gentle. “Welcome to your new home.”

  How did she know my name?

  Only my mother called me Lottie.

  A man’s hand roughly shoved me forward for the final time toward this nice lady, and she caught me in her surprisingly strong arms.

  “Now, Lottie, say good-bye to these men.” In a matter of seconds, her voice turned to ice, bitter and resentful. “You will never see them again.”

  I stared at the two men who sneered at me in return, but I said nothing.

  I knew the rules.

  Everything in l
ife was violent.

  Chapter Two

  Charlotte

  Once inside the large house, the older lady shut the door firmly behind her, causing me to flinch. Loud noises meant anger, irritation, and punishment.

  “Now, now, Lottie.” She slowly lowered to my level and took both of my hands in her weathered ones. “You’re safe here, do you hear me? No bad men will ever hurt you again.”

  Unsure if I should believe her, I took a step back. “How do you know my name?” I whispered fearfully. The walls suddenly seemed to close in on me. I shrunk away from her kind face. Her brows pinched together in worry, but she didn’t tighten her grip.

  “I work to help girls like you who have been put in bad situations. Together with the social workers, we found you.” She didn’t fight to hold me; instead, she let me go. “You may call me Mrs. Ames if you like. The other girls here do.”

  Mrs. Ames?

  The other girls do?

  Just then, I saw them. Four heads peeked around the corner of the hall staring into the foyer. Embarrassment flushed my face into a heated boil. Shame at the way their hair framed their clean faces gripped me by the throat, and I let out a tiny whimper. My fists balled into the disgusting fabric of my nightgown, and humiliation took control.

  One glance around the foyer with its crystal chandelier and sparkling wooden floors told me Mrs. Ames was rich. She’d also handed the men a very fat envelope. One I assumed contained money.

  She bought me.

  At that revelation, my heart sank.

  I’d been traded from one hell to another.

  There were others in this house, which meant she must buy and sell girls.

  My lower lip trembled at my crumbling hope for a reprieve. I sunk to my knees, allowing my tears to fall unabashed for the first time in over a year. Mrs. Ames called out for a woman named Kelly and immediately produced a pristine white handkerchief to wipe my eyes.

  “There, there, now dear, don’t cry.” The older woman continued her gentle façade. Shushing me the way my mother used to.

  My mother.

  That memory brought on a fresh wave of tears.

  My mother’s boyfriend, a cruel man much older than her, sold me to the men who’d locked me up. I’d been stolen just a few months before I turned fourteen. That feels like a separate lifetime ago now.

  In school, I knew my mother had problems compared to the other kids’ parents. She never came to any parent days, and she never asked about my homework. The needle in her arm and the drugs in the vial kept her on a constant high. I taught myself to cook, clean, even babysat my mother when she had a bad night or had overdosed.

  I learned how to boil down heroin or cocaine to put into a needle. She also taught me how to inject her when she was too sick and shaky to do it.

  We weren’t homeless because her boyfriend let us stay with him, but I’d rather have been homeless. He touched me on my bottom sometimes when I’d pass by him, or he’d hold me on his lap for too long. Mom always said he liked me and considered me a daughter, but I never felt safe with him.

  And the night he sold me, I wish I’d run away from him. Being homeless would’ve been better than being held captive for over a year and being touched and told how much money my virginity would bring them.

  After they’d kicked me around when I’d begun to bleed, they allowed me to watch television with them, but I knew it was all wrong. The “movies” we watched had men and women doing things I knew only adults did. Some of the things I’d seen I wasn’t even sure normal people could do. They’d forced me to watch. Told me to take mental notes and learn.

  I sobbed harder as a younger woman with jet-black hair, chocolate-colored eyes, and caramel skin came to sit next to me.

  If the men thought I was stupid, they were wrong.

  Mom used to trade sex for drugs.

  I’d seen it.

  They’d wanted me to practice on them. I felt dirty at the realization of what they’d made me do. Not dirty on the outside, but dirty on the inside. Screaming, I clawed at my arms and struggled against Mrs. Ames’s and Kelly’s hold.

  I wanted to die.

  They shouldn’t be touching me. I’d get them dirty.

  “Easy, Lottie, easy,” Kelly soothed, rocking me in her lap. “No man is ever gonna hurt you again, baby.”

  Sniffling, I gripped Kelly tightly and hiccupped. “They did h-horrible things.”

  Kelly stiffened, surprised by my whispered confession.

  Through blurry tears, I caught sight of someone looking at me from down the hall.

  A man.

  Blinking several times, I tried to hide behind Kelly, but I didn’t take my eyes off him. He stood tall, taller than the men who’d taken me, and his gaze looked eerily similar to that of Mrs. Ames. For a moment, we just stared at each other. I guessed he had to be just out of high school or maybe in college.

  I vowed never to trust a man for as long as I lived if I ever escaped that basement. So I narrowed my eyes, daring him to hurt me. To touch me. I had nothing left for him to ruin.

  Mrs. Ames caught my gaze. She said nothing but got up and strode across the gleaming floor. She spoke to him in low tones. His baritone rumbled back, and he glanced at me once more before he crossed through out of my sight. Once again, the shame in my disgusting appearance reared its ugly head.

  “Lily.” Mrs. Ames paused by where four heads were ogling at me. “Come help Kelly get Lottie cleaned up.”

  The tallest girl stepped out from behind the wall and cautiously approached me. Her honey-blond hair tumbled in tight ringlets over her shoulders. Her bright blue eyes smiled, matching the easy aura I sensed.

  “Hi, Lottie, I’m Lily, the oldest.” She too knelt to my level, but I didn’t trust anyone. “I know how hard this is.” Very slowly, she rolled up her sleeve, and I saw black numbers crudely tattooed on her wrist. “Bad men took me too.”

  Suddenly, the light broke through my cloudy mind.

  Mrs. Ames bought me, yes, but she’d bought these girls too.

  She bought them to free them.

  Lily didn’t look upset or untrusting of Mrs. Ames at all. In fact, the two shared a secret smile.

  Swallowing hard, I struggled to use my neglected voice. “But you bought me.”

  Mrs. Ames nodded. “I had to in order to get you out of that horrible place, but I do not own you.” Her gray eyes brimmed with tears. “Here you are free, Charlotte Waters. Welcome home.”

  I flicked a look at Kelly, who nodded in agreement, a wide grin lighting up her face. “You’re free here, sweetheart. I promise.”

  They weren’t lying to me.

  The nightmare’s over.

  I no longer had to do horrible things with those men I hated so much.

  Collapsing in Kelly’s arms, I cried again, but this time with tears of relief. Mrs. Ames bought me to save me. No matter how long I lived, I would do anything she asked of me to thank her.

  “Now come along.” Mrs. Ames stood and held out her hand. “Kelly and Lily are going to help you get cleaned up and show you to your room.”

  A bath?

  Clean water and soap?

  My own room?

  I didn’t even try to stop the tears of happiness as I took Mrs. Ames’s hand.

  They would feed me here. I could go back to school. My heart jumped. Maybe I could even play the piano again.

  For the first time in forever, I could see around the twisted corridor called the future. There would be girls my own age here who understood me. In my mind, a thousand feathers fell back to the earth.

  My wings.

  Now, I could collect them, one by one, and maybe, just maybe I’d fly again someday. But for now, I’d follow Mrs. Ames anywhere. And that anywhere happened to be a large pale blue and soft yellow bathroom. The far side let in bright sunshine from the large picture window. One corner held a box-shaped shower that was as big as a closet, and the opposite corner held a toilet and sink. Before us, directly under the l
arge window, stood what I considered a kitty pool.

  Kelly stepped forward and stared the water and then grinned back at me. “You'll love the Jacuzzi.”

  A Jacuzzi?

  I’d only ever seen one in my life, and that was at a hotel where Mom cleaned rooms before she did drugs. White tile dared me to cross with my grimy feet. I hesitated, but Lily gave me a gentle push forward. “We have mops for a reason.” With a wink, Kelly turned back to tending to the bath.

  “I’m going to leave Lottie with you two.” Mrs. Ames watched with a fond expression. “I’ll grab her some fresh clothes and see how the others are doing.” She closed the door behind her when she left.

  Alone with Kelly and Lily, I just continued to stare around the luxurious bathroom in awe.

  “It’s huge, isn’t it?” Lily giggled. “I was about your age when I first came here, and I thought the same thing.”

  “You were in need of a bath as well,” Kelly chipped in.

  “Yes, I was.” Lily’s face sobered for a moment, but she quickly shook her head and smiled again. “Let’s get you out of these rags.”

  Being naked in front of anyone made me nervous. I glanced back and forth between them. As Kelly added bubbles to the tub, she seemed to understand. “We can look away while you climb in, but you have to let me work on that hair of yours.”

  Nodding, I agreed to those terms, and they turned away.

  I tore the stinky nightgown over my head, walking cautiously toward the large soaking tub. One foot after the other, I sank into the bubbly goodness. The heat enveloped my sore muscles and joints from months of sleeping on flagstone.

  “Okay,” I said softly. Both women came back.

  Kelly used the sprayer attachment to wash the filth from my hair and tried to untangle the mess. Lily’s job was to let the dirty water out as I washed my body and under my nails.

  “Where are we?” I asked softly, unsure of where I was anymore.

  “Cazenovia, New York, honey,” Kellie said cheerfully while working on my hair. “About a half hour outside of Syracuse.”

  “Oh,” I replied, not sure how far away Cazenovia was from my hometown of Utica. While I couldn’t remember my home address, since I didn’t really have one, I did recall the city.