“Hallo hotness,” Riza says, “I hope she keeps stripping him.”

He takes the ripped shirt and ties the woman’s hands behind her back. I sit up a bit straighter in my chair. I’ve only read about men tying women up. Seeing it is a bit shocking, but hot at the same time.

He pushes her down on the floor and as he reaches for her panties, I look away. This is way too much for me.

“Oh hell,” Kelly squeals, “He just ripped off her panties!”

“I don’t need a running commentary! I’m going to the toilet,” I hiss. I follow the sign and let out a breath of relief as the toilet’s door closes behind me, muting the music and sounds.

I take my time in the toilet, in no hurry to go back. This is not my kind of thing. Where Riza and Kelly don’t mind watching porn once in a while, I don’t like watching. It’s too fake and I want to experience the emotion that goes with sex, not just the act itself. I love reading about it, and imagining the things myself. I don’t like seeing it. I get too flustered with embarrassment and then the girls take advantage of it and tease me mercilessly.

When I head back to the table I find it empty. I didn’t see them going to the toilet and start to look around. Where the hell did they go?

“Your friends are seated on the balcony,” a waiter informs me. My eyes dart up and meet a happy looking Riza. She waves at me.

I can’t believe they’ve gone and sat with those men!

“I’ll show you the way,” the waiter pulls my attention back to him. I’m reluctant to follow him, but my friends are there and we promised to always stick together. I’m out voted on this one.

I follow the waiter to a door at the back of the club. There’s a narrow passage that leads to what looks like an exit. To my immediate right is another door and a little further down is one to my left. The waiter opens for me the door and shows for me to go in. I take the stairs slowly, trying to prolong the moment before I have to face a table full of strange men.

I see the blonde guy first, he’s sitting between Kelly and Riza. Kelly’s eyes are on the stage, and Riza is smiling up at the blonde guy.

Kelly spots me and smiles. “That’s Garrett,” she points to the man nearest to me. His dark brown hair is cut short and neat. He’s sporting a day old beard that makes him look dangerously handsome. He stands up and I see he’s wearing jeans and a charcoal shirt. I’m staring so much I almost miss it as Kelly goes on to introduce the others. “And this is Justin.” My eyes jump to the other man. There are some similarities between Garrett and Justin, but Justin’s hair is longer and he’s clean shaven. They both have the darkest shade of brown eyes I’ve ever seen. “And this is Warren,” she ends by introducing the blonde guy.

Riza’s eyes are still sparkling up at Warren. She must be pleased with the attention he’s giving her.

“Let me,” Garrett says politely, pulling out a chair between himself and Justin for me. I hate that the men have separated us from each other by sitting between us.

~*~

Twisted Boundaries

A Boundaries Novel

Prologue

Birdie~

There are different shades to black. There’s your normal black, then there’s the kind where it’s so dark you see spots.

It’s so dark you see things children shouldn’t see.

It’s so dark you see the Bogeyman.

It’s the one Daddy whispers about through the door. “Here comes the Bogeyman. The Bogeyman’s coming to get you!”

It’s so dark you see fear in every speck of dust.

And then you smell it when you wet yourself. You feel it when it gets cold, because you’re standing in your own pee, and there’s nothing you can do about it because you’re locked in the closet.

You smell fear. You smell it in the stench around you when the hours become months. You taste the fear in your tears. You hear it when your stomach growls for food.

The Bogeyman is real. The Bogeyman is my daddy.

He only listens to one song. The man plays guitar, plucking the strings hard, as hard as the Bogeyman drinks.

The man sings about skeletons in the closet and the Bogeyman sings with him. “I’ve got a skeleton in the closet and she ain’t ever coming out,” he sings loud, but sometimes he’ll stand in front of the closet and he’ll whisper, those are the days I believe him. “I’ve got a skeleton in the closet and she ain’t ever coming out.”

~*~

Chapter One

Birdie~

“You almost ready, Dear?” Mrs. Beasley calls, and it’s soon followed by her distinctive double tap on my door.

“Yeah, you can come in,” I say, sitting on the floor with my back against the base of the bed.

Her eyes take me in with one quick swoop and I don’t miss the the flash of … is it sadness?

“You sure you want to wear a sweater? It’s hot out. I could give you one of my blouses,” she tries again. I love her for it. I know she’s only trying, but I wish she’d let it go. This is what I want to wear. I feel comfortable wearing my sweaters.

“Nope, I’m good,” I mumble, sticking a picture on the page I’m busy with. I have a weird hobby of writing out the lyrics to every song I like and surrounding them with pictures I feel suits them best. Today’s song is What if you by Joshua Radin and I’ve just finished sticking a picture of Cole Trenton next to the lyrics. The song reminds me of him, the guy I’ve had a crush on since the first day I saw him. I took one look at his blue eyes and brown hair, and I was a gonner. He’s the only one that gets it right to stir a happy feeling inside of me.

“Good, let’s go then. We don’t want to keep the people waiting,” Mrs. Beasley says.

I slip the page into a plastic sleeve and place it on my desk before running after her. I hate going with them but there is no way Link will go, so that leaves only me. It’s important for them to come across as a family when they’re doing their weekly visits. I can’t let them down after everything they’ve done for me. They took me in without asking anything in return.

I think it’s selfish of Link to not go with after they took him when his father went to jail for selling drugs. Link was only nine and had nowhere else to go. His momma died when he was still a baby and apparently they couldn’t trace anybody on his momma’s side to take him. That’s how he ended up being taken in by the Beasley’s. It was the same with me. There’s no one left on my momma’s side and I’d rather not think of my father.

Pastor Beasley gives me an encouraging smile as I step out onto the porch. He knows I hate going to these dinners, but he appreciates it.

“Thanks, Kiddo. I owe you one,” he says as we start toward the ‘ole’ wagon’, as we affectionately call it. The only thing keeping the station wagon together is the ton of rust. But it gets us from point A to point B.

“I get to choose the next movie,” I sing as I slip into the backseat.

“It’s a deal,” he says, before I close the door.

I listen to them discussing the upcoming young married couples’ camp as we drive to the other side of town, to where the richer neighborhoods are. Yes, even the rich people invite us over. Everyone loves Pastor Beasley. He’s the heart of Lyman.

My heart starts to pump faster as we turn into Cole’s street and I automatically start to count the houses down until we reach his. When the car starts to slow my tongue feels thick. The ole’ wagon turns up his driveway and I dig my nails into the old material of the seat.

“The Trenton’s? We’re coming to the Trenton’s?” I shriek from the back.