Chapter 1
Maya
I laughed at my father’s death.
That must mean my mother’s right.I do have the devil inside of me.It didn’t stop the unadulterated joy from slipping out. Of course, that was mixed with a sigh of disappointment because only the world could be so cruel. After all the years of torture I’d endured, he’d gotten a peaceful death in his sleep.
So I laughed. I never saw the body, but she’d told me in a rather dismissive tone while stating we were leaving. It was funny in sort of a sick sad way. Of course, the beating I’d received from my mother had been terrible, but that would have happened whether or not Pastor Malcolm had passed this previous May. She hadn’t done it for any special occasion. She had handcrafted the oddball shape of abuse and ingenuousness that could be labeled ‘Maya.’
Despite my very short time in real society, I had found a truth that seemed to hold true. Some people did not fit in. We were just different. The difference in how we viewed the world through our smudged, broken lenses, made us stand out and not in a good way.
These individuals did not belong in high school. Yet, here I was for the first time ever in my life. 5 days before my eighteenth birthday. I’d survived 17 years and 11 months of my life. On September 2nd, my new life would start. My new life away from her.
It seemed I’d be doing it here in Washington as well. My mother decided to move us across the country from my father’s religious cult, to move in with Jed. I hated Jed. I really had no ideawhatI would do in 5 days, but I would rather be homeless than to live with my mother and Jed. After around a week of driving across the country, I had already grown tired of his antics and uncomfortable remarks. Plus, my mother grew angrier each and every time he focused on me. When I’d left our trailer this morning to walk to school, she’d berated me with a belt until I had been left terribly bruised. Luckily, she hadn’t broken skin. My new school uniform wouldn’t have covered the blood.
I really did not belong here.
Yet, my sneakered feet still crossed the perfectly paved parking lot. You would have thought that my mother would be hesitant to let me wander the world by myself, but as she mentioned, it hadn’t been her idea to keep me in the basement. She hadn’t wanted me at all. No, the basement was all my father’s idea. So why she kept me around now, I had no idea.
I shook the thoughts from my head.
The school was extravagant, to say the least. Then again, I had been homeschooled from the basement of my church. I had beenso thankfulPastor Malcolm had read to me from scripture. I mean, what else would have distracted me from the beatings and pain. My eyes narrowed on the dark gothic stone and arched doorways. Every inch of the pavement crawled with expensive cars and beautifully pressed uniforms. I had no idea how my mother and Jed were sending me here. I lived in a trailer. My uniform didn’t fit in compared to the other students. The clothing item sure as hell wasn’t pressed. Honestly, the soft wrinkled material felt better on my bruised body.
I suddenly felt smaller than I ever had in my entire life. I stood around five and a half feet tall and was underfed. Malnourished. I wish I could have admitted to some trendy diet. Ha. I supposed if you counted ‘fasting to rid the devil from your body’ as a diet, I had been on one. No. The truth was far more depressing. I looked over the dark gray plaid skirt that hung off my hip bones and worn black hoodie that I hoped to get away with. Underneath, I had a white polo that had arrived in the mail with my complete uniform. It was the nicest piece of clothing I had ever owned. However, it showed off far too many bruises for my liking. I may not know a lot, but I did know bruises usually weren’t viewed as a good thing. I curled my toes up inside my worn shoe. It was cold here, far colder than Louisiana had been.
I whimpered as my backpack hit against a part of my back that was bruised. This morning had been relatively easy in comparison to most. It still hurt though. Unfortunately, since she hadn’t broken skin, my helpful healing ability hadn’t kicked in. Bruises didn’t count apparently.
The devil rights your body because of the sin inside you.
The sin inside you.
I hadn’t placed much thought into my healing ability, ever. Nor had I asked anyone about it. I had only ever interacted with Pastor Malcolm, my mother, and now Jed. They wouldn’t tell me what they knew. Besides, I was far too busy surviving. I just knew that if blood was shed, my body would heal itself overnight. It was why my mother now tried to not spill blood. Instead, she bruised my body until it was unrecognizable in the mirror.
My thoughts strayed to the gas station yesterday. If that social interaction was anything to base the future from, I was nervous. I had never interacted with someone close to my age, so it had been a moment of revelation to me. And what a moment it had been. Like, holy cow.
His name was Marco, I think. His card was in my backpack. I didn’t plan on calling him, didn’t have a way to, but it made me feelsafe to have him near me. Even in paper form. That was how Marco had made me feel. Safe.
It was clear he was a man of power. The way he stood, and how he dressed, it was obvious he was powerful and demanding. He had been tall, much taller than me, and dressed in expensive clothes. He would have fit in much better here than myself. I could still feel the way his warm hands had curled against my bruised arms. The action had bathed me in heat and security. I had lost all ability to articulate around him.
Did all men smell like vanilla and fresh snow? I knew those scents well. When Pastor Malcolm had left the basement window open, I could often smell the season change and scents from the church’s kitchen above. I let my mind drift to the sharp clean cut of his tanned jaw and the way his dark hair seemed to lay in a styled mess. It was his pale green eyes though, like mint leaves, that brought me to be so distracted that I hit a solid chest.
Damn it. Second time. Second freakin’ time. This time I wasn’t as thrilled with who I had ran into. No, he reminded me of Jed. The guy looked down at me with a big grin that showed off far too large of teeth. “What do we have here?”
I heard his friends laugh, but my focus was on the predator in front of me. I felt my nails curl into my hoodie sleeves as I swallowed my fear. A wave of nausea rolled through me as panic set in.What the hell was I doing here?This was why I didn’t belong around normal people. Hell, I didn’t know the first thing outside of the basement I had grown up in. If it hadn’t been for Pastor Malcolm’s lessons and my mother’s swearing, I would have been a freak. I mean I was a freak now, just slightly less of one.
“Sorry,” I whispered through a raspy voice. Fuck. My voice wasn’t used to being used. On top of that, after years of being forced to swallow acidic kitchen supplies, it may have been permanently damaged. The damage was the only part of me that didn’t heal, no matter how much I bled.
“Don’t worry babe, you can make it up to me,” he leered with evident amusement.
“Or you can fuck off Lorn,” a voice snarled behind me. I didn’t recognize the voice, but my heart pitter-pattered at the dangerous sound. That familiar sense of safety crawled up my throat and caused me to open my mouth in surprise.
“This your girl or something?” Lorn, I assumed, snickered.
A warm bonfire scent invaded my nose as a large hand pressed into my lower back for support. I was surprised to find myself leaning back into it despite the pain. I looked up into a pair of deep indigo eyes that burned like embers in a fireplace. I noticed he wore a hoodie like me. Maybe we could be friends. I wouldn’t mind a friend this tall or big. My brain and heart seemed to have frozen time to allow me to look at this handsome man. My new friend was so ridiculously good-looking. Something in the center of my chest was begging me to vie for his attention, but it didn’t seem like we needed to. He was already paying attention.
“Yep,” he answered smoothly. I wasn’t positive what ‘your girl’ meant, but if it meant being friends, I was totally in. The more I looked at him, the more I liked him.
He had stark white skin that shone against black messy curls and dark brows. The ends of his curled hair were dipped in bright orange. It accented his feline face and full gentle lips. Those lips that looked nearly out of place on his masculine features. Overall, the effect was stunning.