Blind Devotion (Page 5)

“Now, I don’t want you to worry about your father’s and my little spat.”

“He’s not my father.” No, her father had died in the Marines when she was ten, leaving behind a wife and daughter. Kenneth had come into their lives by the time she was eleven with his fake promises and fake lives.

“Don’t say stuff like that. He’s been wonderful to us.”

“You’re an addict, Mom, and I’m blind. He’s torn us apart.”

She heard her mother sob. In the past whenever her mother was hurt, she’d press a hand to her lips, gasping. Feeling like a total bitch, she apologized. Her mother was completely oblivious to the problems Kenneth caused. If Sasha didn’t love her mother and remember all the times they were together with fondness, she’s have been long gone by now. The drink and drugs had turned the woman she knew into something unrecognizable.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I hate having to go through this.” She reached up to touch her face.

“Oh, honey. It’s no trouble. I love being able to take care of you when other mothers are fretting about what their kids are getting up to.”

The bed dipped, and Sasha’s senses were flooded by the extreme scent of perfume, another of Kenneth’s demands from her mother.

“Why was he shouting?” she asked, trying to distract her mother.

“I was stupid and put too much pepper in the mashed potatoes. It was a simple mistake. I messed up.”

Seriously, Mom, over-peppered mashed potatoes. Don’t you see what’s wrong with that? Please, see how bad he is and realize it’s only going to get worse.

Sasha had no choice in her situation. The people believed she was clumsy and had fallen down the stairs, banging her head. Her mother, however, could change all that if only she had the courage to do so.

“Try them. Please let me know what you think.”

Her mother was an amazing cook. Before Kenneth turned up, Sasha would sit in the kitchen for hours at a time trying food she concocted. Her mother had a knack in the kitchen, and it was where her mother got the most comfort. The only food she was allowed to cook now was of the gourmet kind, and Sasha hated it.

Tasting the potatoes, she tried not to wince at the blandness of them. They were heavily peppered and salted.

“They’re nice, Mom.”

“You’re an awful liar.”

Chuckling, Sasha ate her food relishing every second her mother sat with her. Most of the time, her mother was trying to please Kenneth and staying far away from her, only spending rare moments with her. When she got chance to talk with her mother, she did try to get her to go to the cops or someone who’d listen. After four years, Sasha still hadn’t given up hope that the mother she used to know was still in there.

Sasha was twenty years old and yet felt more like a child than ever before.

There was so much she couldn’t do. Whenever she started to get confident with moving around, Kenneth would order the maid to make changes, causing her to bang into stuff.

“Mom, what do you know about the Chaos Bleeds crew? You know, the biker group in town.”

Her mother tensed at her side. She was sitting close enough for Sasha to feel the sudden change within her. Eating some of her food, Sasha took each bite carefully so as not to make a mess of herself. She’d learned early not to be greedy or she’d be wearing her food rather than enjoying it.

“They’re ruffians, all of them. Don’t let your father hear you talk about them.”

He’s not my father.

“I won’t. I just overheard some people in the library giggling about them. I just wondered who they were. I’ve never seen them before.”

She wasn’t lying. The rumors were rife about the biker group in town. She’d been reading Braille while women had been giggling over the men who were part of the club. A couple of times she’d heard Pussy’s name mentioned, and now that she knew it was Shane, she found herself listening more and more.

“You really shouldn’t concern yourself with them, honey, for your own sake. They’re a curse to the world and one I hope to see gone from our lovely town.”

The next moment her mother stopped talking, and the silence unnerved Sasha. Seconds later, she heard the reason why.

“What’s going on in here?” Kenneth asked.

“I’m just talking with Sasha while she eats.”

“You served her those shit mashed potatoes? Really? I thought you said you could cook.” The way his voice dropped Sasha knew he was sneering, and it angered her more than anything.

“I like them,” Sasha said.

“Yeah, only because you’re not seeing the shit you’re eating. Take the food away, now. Go and have a f**king drink. It’s all you’re good for.” The fork was tugged out of her grip. Her mother’s hand shook. Sasha felt it from the small contact she had with her. She wanted to reach out and shake her mother, to wake her up to the monster he was. The door to her room was closed. She wasn’t an idiot. Kenneth was still in the room waiting to have his say.

“What?” she asked, resting her hands in her lap to try to calm her nerves. Since the first attack, Kenneth only ever hurt by gripping her too tightly or giving her a slap from time to time. He’d not lashed out as much. She figured it was down to fear as he’d given off the persona of being the concerned stepfather. Anything happened to her now and things would look suspicious.

“Be careful how you talk to me, girl.”

She tensed up, sinking her nails into her skin.

“We’ve got to go out tomorrow. I’ll be dropping you off at the library.”

“I could stay home.”

“I don’t want you to stay home. We need to be seen. After tonight your mother will be useless. She’ll be swigging from the bottle as we speak.”

Closing her eyes, she tried to shut out his words. She hated him. The anger at what he’d done to her mother was still raw. He’d turned her into some kind of suburban housewife for him to toy with whenever he felt like it. Sasha despised him and hoped he died a long, slow death.

“You’ll do tomorrow. The town will see how well you’re doing, and then I can get to my meeting.”

“Who are you meeting?” she asked.

“None of your business. Play your part, and I won’t let anything bad happen to your mother or you.”

Pausing, Sasha turned her head in the direction of his voice, opening her eyes even though she couldn’t see.