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“A greedy fucker I love.” I declare.
“This greedy fucker loves you right back, Kitten. So much so that I ache for you.”
“Fuck, you really are good at this Casanova stuff, aren’t you?” I tease, and he chuckles.
“It’s not Casanova stuff. It’s just my heart belonging to you.”
“Shit Cass. When are you coming to rescue me?” My tone is serious because I know without a doubt that if he turned up to steal me away, I’d go with him in a heartbeat.
“I’ll meet you in your dreams tonight, beautiful. Make sure you’re naked.”
I giggle a little too loudly and slap my hand over my mouth, stretching out my senses to hear if anyone is coming. When I don’t hear any movement in the house beyond my wardrobe, I drop my hand and relax.
“I’m always naked in my dreams, Cass. Especially if you’re there.” I sigh. “I should get this phone back to Char before she loses her shit at me.”
“Ok, Kitten. Take care of you, ok?”
I smile at the warmth and care in his tone.
“Ok, Cass. You too.”
We say our goodbyes, and I hang up, wishing I didn’t have to put an end to hearing Shaun’s voice tonight. I feel like he’s always there for me, swooping in to save me from my own emotions. He seems to always put me first, even before his mates a lot of the time. I kinda feel bad about that, yet selfishly crave his dedication to me. I’ll never be able to get enough of Shaun Bossier. Ever.
After I take a moment to compose myself, I silently slip out of my room and step into Char’s to see her cross-legged on her bed in front of her laptop, typing away. She glances up when her door clicks shut behind me, her eyes wide with excitement.
“Bec and Amanda have reached out… you know. The CEOs from Angel Org?” When I nod, moving to sit on the side of the bed, Char continues, “Well, they have suggested reaching out to Hush. She’s an anonymous podcaster and TikToker. Her podcast is called Breaking the Silence, and she tells the stories of those who can’t speak up for themselves because they need to remain anonymous. Not only does she tell their stories, but she name drops and image drops on her TikTok account. She creates hype until someone recognises the person or people she posts about, and the cops have caught heaps of shady fuckers because of her. That’s why she hasn’t been shut down. No one knows who she is, but she does the stuff that others are afraid to do in fear of backlash.”
“Wow.” It’s all I can summon as my mind takes in what Char just said.
“Bec and Amanda think this is the best avenue, especially because there could be other girls that Julie is fucking with. It will hopefully expose Julie, or whoever she is calling herself these days, and perhaps also convince more of her victims to come forward. Someone might give up her location. You have to do it, Rhys.”
Charlotte rarely gets this involved in my dramas, but as she speaks, I can see how passionate she is about this. It reminds me of the passion I saw in Evie Prattle’s eyes, too. It’s a cause they believe in, and hell, I think I do too.
“Can I think about it?”
Char nods, holding out her earbuds. “Here, take a listen to her first podcast.”
Grinning, I shuffle up next to Char and accept the earbud, slipping it in my ear. A soft, husky female voice fills my ear, and I’m instantly drawn into the podcast as Hush tells a story about a young girl, only ten years old, who accidentally killed her step-mum to stop her step-mum from beating her dad to death.
Chapter Eleven
Rhys
Sleep evaded me last night. With worry for Garrett, and the husky voice of Hush still dancing in my head, I tossed and turned most of the night. I had to stop myself from sneaking out to go to Garrett’s to check on him, and from barging back into Char’s room to take her phone and listen to more of what Hush had to say. Instead, I stared at my ceiling and wished for the sun to hurry up and rise.
At breakfast, I tried to play nice and join the family at the table, hoping to convince Cin to give my phone or laptop back. When she refused, I stormed off, having only taken a single bite of my toast, and locked myself in my bedroom. Again. Let’s see if my olds can handle a hunger strike!
Not being able to contact the guys is eating at me. Especially my worry over Garrett. I have to assume the guys have it sorted, though. Char hasn’t said they have contacted her, so no news has to be good news, right?
Marcus is the only one with an exam today, and it bums me out that I could be having a quiet lazy day with my guys if my ‘rents weren’t being all fucking parenty and shit. I spend the morning trying to keep myself busy, and I write my sick and twisted story on some crumbled pages torn from the back of my maths workbook to send to Hush for her podcast. It will need to be typed up when I can get my hands on my phone or laptop, since the only way to contact Hush is via email.
My writing tells the story of a little girl who went from foster home to foster home, each time hoping that the next one would be her forever home. All she wanted was for someone to love her enough to want to keep her and call her their own.
I explain what it was like living with Brian and Julie. How Julie would basically play the bad cop, so I would find comfort in the good cop, Brian. Then how Brian would play games with me and made me feel special and cared for, causing me to believe the games he played were normal for dads and daughters to play.
I explain how they groomed me and how Julie made sure to hurt me so Brian could make me feel good, which would result in me wanting more. I even went into some of the sick things we did together and how it never hurt but felt good. It confused me, as I was only eleven when it started. I didn’t understand why the girls at school got so upset when I told them about one of the games Brian and I played. The‘nurse game’, where I would make him feel better. The girls called me disgusting and ran off to tell the teacher, and I didn’t understand why child services took me away. Not at the time, anyway.
Then there have been years of therapy, teaching me that what happened was wrong. I left out the whole sex addiction thing. It’s not relevant to finding Julie. But then I described Julie’s comeback into my life. The phone calls and messages. The prison visits, minus the involvement of the police. I included the name Julie went by while looking after me. Julie Bates, who currently lives in Allansdale, where she takes in homeless girls.
