Then her mother begging. For both their safety and saying she would do anything. And she did. Alison saw her mother being dragged off as she was tied up. She heard everything. Every depraved second of it. When Dad came home she had wondered why he was blaming himself. Things changed. Mom changed. It was only years later she found out the truth. How he had got mixed up in a business deal with the mob and tried to double-cross them. He paid them off and put himself into the business to escape looking at Alison or her mother. Then killed himself some time later after Mom had finally drank herself to death a few years after that night. All the while she’d been sent to different schools but was thrown out of every one. Kacey had been some attempt to find normality. After years of trying to find a ‘normal’ relationship and finding nothing satisfied her like dressing up and beating up ‘bad guys she gave in to it. She found Kacey in the streets at 14. Kacey Sutton. Her mother was a heroin. Oliver realized that the water had stopped running in the bathroom and cursed those damned maids silently, but he remained on his bed. Bridgette, now calmed and ready to shed her clothing, crept into her father’s almost-regal room, the scent of his cologne and the lavender incense permeating her nostrils. Her fingers ran along the walls, feeling the smooth glaze that covered the vibrant paint. The wooden floor was cold against her feet, but it all added to what she was about to experience, her first sexual encounter; it all felt so surreal. She finally reached the large four-poster, with its giant columns rising out from each of the corners, and slowly put her slim hand on her father’s chest. He awoke with a start, but she quietly shushed his questioning looks as she progressed. Her hands ran over his chest, his defined abs, his stomach, up to his collarbones once more; his skin was soft and warm, and she slowly climbed on top of him, each of her legs resting on either side of him..
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