Page 1 of Fang (Lotus MC: San Antonio #2)
Fourteen years old
“S tinky Cami. Stinky Cami,” the boys on the bus chant.
The tears are rolling down my face as the bus driver attempts to stop them by yelling, but they don’t stop. They never do.
Zak Brohan dubbed me Stinky Cami last year when I came into class with dirty clothes and not having showered in a week because our water was turned off. The name has stuck.
The bus finally comes to a stop outside of the trailer park. I’m out of my seat and out the door before anyone can say anything. Other kids filter out behind me, but I run all the way to the place I call home.
Busting through the door, I wince when I find my mother on the couch, a man on top of her doing things I never want to see. It happens more than I care to admit.
“Get in your room,” Mom screams at me when the fella on top of her glances my way.
You’d think she was trying to protect her child, but I know the truth. She’s jealous that his attention is on me.
I run into my room, slamming the door behind me. I let the tears fall as I wonder for the umpteenth time what I did to deserve a life like this.
I hear the telltale signs of my mom earning her money before the whole place goes silent.
I shouldn’t judge her. She’s doing what she has to do, but it’s not to support us.
She won’t be taking that money to pay our bills or buy food for the house.
No, she will be taking it to her dealer to get her next fix.
The only reason we still have this trailer is because she sleeps with the park manager several times a month in exchange for a place to do her business. In fact, I think he sends people her way.
I wait until it’s been quiet for a long while before I open my door and look out. My face feels crusty with the dried tears. I want to wash my face and use the bathroom, but I know if I show my face too soon, Mom will be ready to teach me a lesson. It’s not worth it.
When I’m sure the coast is clear, I rush to the bathroom. I rinse my face before using the bathroom. After washing my hands with the soap I stole from the local dollar store, I open the door to head back to my room.
I’m shocked to find the man from before standing there. He’s standing in nothing but his boxers. The look on his face says he’s up to no good.
“Well, hello there. I was wondering if you were ever coming out,” he says to me.
My heart races as dread rolls through me.
“My mom will be upset if she finds you talking to me.” It’s true, but not the way he thinks.
He reaches out to touch my hair. I flinch away from him.
“Your mom went to get us some party favors. My treat after all. Why don’t you come talk to me in the living room?” He grabs my arm, dragging me, not bothering to wait for an answer.
My heart is racing in my chest. I know what this means. This man is no good. He wants to do things to me. The things he does to my mom. I’m not an idiot. Growing up in this home, you can’t be.
He’s not the first guy to try to do something with me. Usually it’s them trying to get into my room, which is locked.
I didn’t expect him to still be here, though. This is the first time Barbara has left a man here with me. She must have been so excited about the idea of drugs that she forgot I was here.
I hope Tito is home. He’s her dealer two doors down. She will be home soon if he is.
“You’re very pretty. How old are you?” he asks.
I don’t answer him, staring straight ahead as he pulls me onto the couch next to him. I don’t miss the wet spot he sits on. It makes me queasy.
“It’s rude to ignore your elders,” the man hisses, squeezing my arm tighter.
I wince. “You’re hurting me.”
“I asked you a question.”
“Fourteen,” I tell him.
He sneers a little. “I thought you were younger, but you’ll do. Are you going to be a good girl for me?”
I nod slowly, scared to speak.
Please come home, Mom.
The man leans in and kisses my cheek. I tremble as the tears start to fall. I’m so scared of what he will do to me. I don’t want to be here. I’d rather be at school or on the bus with those mean boys. Anything to get away from this man right now.
“We are going to have fun. You’ll enjoy it. I promise,” he whispers, his hand finding my knee and attempting to spread my legs.
Before he can pry them apart, the door opens.
“I got what you asked for, baby.” My mother’s drunken words slur over the room.
The man freezes, looking me in the eye.
“That’s good,” he tells her.
“Let’s take a hit and fuck. It always feels better on a good high,” my mom says, heading toward the kitchen.
She hasn’t noticed me yet. I know she hasn’t because she would have already yelled at me. I need to alert her. I need to get out of this.
“Mommy,” I whimper, using the name I once used as a child, hoping it will soften her reaction.
She slowly turns toward me. She takes in the man with his hands on me before her eyes focus in on my tear-stained face.
“Get out,” she says in a growl.
I go to move, but she shakes her head no.
“You. You disgusting man. Get out of here.”
My heart is racing as she runs over and starts hitting the man. He jumps up and runs out the front door, not even bothering to grab his clothes.
Once he’s gone, I let out a sob.
That was too close.
I’m grateful my mother made him leave.
“You little brat. You think you can come out here and seduce my men while I’m gone?” Mom starts screaming at me.
I don’t say a word, instead focusing on the fact that I am safe.
“Answer me, you little slut.”
That’s when she lands the first blow. A fist to the side of my head. I don’t fight back. I brace for the next hit.
She continues hitting me over and over as she continues spitting nasty words at me. I cry harder as the pain fills my body.
I don’t ask her to stop, though. I don’t speak a word to make it worse.
I let her wear herself out before I escape to my room. My nose is bleeding, bruises already forming under my skin in many other areas, but I don’t care.
That man almost got me.