Betrayal: Brianna's Secret (The Betrayal Series) by Sofia Velardi Page B
Authors: Sofia Velardi
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me. Seeing his disgusting, naked body moving towards me made me want to throw up.” Brianna made a gagging sound while her body convulsed at the memory. “I tried to run away from him, but there was nowhere for me go. He chased me around the room while telling me to trust him. He caught up with me quickly. He wrapped his arms around me and pressed his repulsive, flabby body against mine while repeating the same Bible verses over and over.”
“I tried to scratch him and slap him, but he overpowered me. He was just too strong. I did manage to poke him in one eye, and that made him angry. I could see it in his eyes that he wanted to drop the therapy charade and slap me, but he restrained himself. Instead, his face softened, and he went back to reciting verses and chanting hymns while dragging me towards the bed.”
“I still remember his stinky breath on me. He was just so revolting. On the bed, he gripped my hands above my head with one of his hands and used the other hand to yank my shorts and panties off me. I cried and begged for him to stop and let me go, but he ignored my tears and my pleas. He kept telling me I was sick. He kept repeating that he was doing it for my own good and to trust him.”
Brianna had been successful up until that point at keeping her tears at bay. She had spent the last seven years fighting those tears, convincing herself she was over it, pretending everything was okay. But she couldn’t pretend anymore, and she couldn’t hold the tsunami of tears any longer. The salty liquid blurred her almost lifeless blue eyes before forceful, nonstop streams of pent-up anger and pain began to rush down her porcelain cheeks.
Even though her tears were flowing uncontrollably, Brianna did not make a sound. There were no sobs or whimpers. Her face did not twist in pain. Her body did not convulse with grief. She just wept silently. That night on that couch, she wasn’t Brianna Garrett, the glamorous, self-confident, budding movie star. That night she was just the broken, terrified eighteen-year-old girl who could not understand what could possess a human being to be so cruel to a defenseless girl.
Abby just kept sobbing quietly. She was in shock. She couldn’t move or speak. She couldn’t wrap her mind around someone hiding behind their religious beliefs to be so heartless towards a child. She felt there was nothing she could have said that could have possibly comforted that broken girl. So she just kept listening.
“Then he forced himself on me,” Brianna continued. “He didn’t even bother to put on a condom, the sick son of a bitch. It was a miracle that I didn’t end up getting pregnant. He kept whispering hymns and chanting while he rammed into me over and over.”
“It hurt so much, Abby. It felt like my insides were being torn apart. I had never been with a man before him. Miller probably knew that but didn’t give a shit about my physical or emotional pain. He was probably proud of himself for coming up with that scam, the sick bastard. He had found a way of manipulating ignorant parents into letting him rape their daughters in the name of God.”
“I kept screaming and crying for my dad to come help me, but he didn’t show up. I knew he could hear me. How could he not? I was screaming pretty loudly.”
“After Miller was done, he dressed himself, and then put my panties and shorts back on. By then, I had stopped struggling. I just lied there sobbing and wondering what I had done to deserve so much cruelty. I felt so alone and worthless. After Miller was done dressing me, he walked to the door and knocked on it twice. I guess that was his signal to my dad that the healing session was over.”
“Within seconds my father walked in. I couldn’t see his face. I was lying on my side with my face turned away from him and Miller. I felt the mattress sink behind me when my father sat next to me. He pretty much repeated what he had said earlier about doing it for my own good and
“I tried to scratch him and slap him, but he overpowered me. He was just too strong. I did manage to poke him in one eye, and that made him angry. I could see it in his eyes that he wanted to drop the therapy charade and slap me, but he restrained himself. Instead, his face softened, and he went back to reciting verses and chanting hymns while dragging me towards the bed.”
“I still remember his stinky breath on me. He was just so revolting. On the bed, he gripped my hands above my head with one of his hands and used the other hand to yank my shorts and panties off me. I cried and begged for him to stop and let me go, but he ignored my tears and my pleas. He kept telling me I was sick. He kept repeating that he was doing it for my own good and to trust him.”
Brianna had been successful up until that point at keeping her tears at bay. She had spent the last seven years fighting those tears, convincing herself she was over it, pretending everything was okay. But she couldn’t pretend anymore, and she couldn’t hold the tsunami of tears any longer. The salty liquid blurred her almost lifeless blue eyes before forceful, nonstop streams of pent-up anger and pain began to rush down her porcelain cheeks.
Even though her tears were flowing uncontrollably, Brianna did not make a sound. There were no sobs or whimpers. Her face did not twist in pain. Her body did not convulse with grief. She just wept silently. That night on that couch, she wasn’t Brianna Garrett, the glamorous, self-confident, budding movie star. That night she was just the broken, terrified eighteen-year-old girl who could not understand what could possess a human being to be so cruel to a defenseless girl.
Abby just kept sobbing quietly. She was in shock. She couldn’t move or speak. She couldn’t wrap her mind around someone hiding behind their religious beliefs to be so heartless towards a child. She felt there was nothing she could have said that could have possibly comforted that broken girl. So she just kept listening.
“Then he forced himself on me,” Brianna continued. “He didn’t even bother to put on a condom, the sick son of a bitch. It was a miracle that I didn’t end up getting pregnant. He kept whispering hymns and chanting while he rammed into me over and over.”
“It hurt so much, Abby. It felt like my insides were being torn apart. I had never been with a man before him. Miller probably knew that but didn’t give a shit about my physical or emotional pain. He was probably proud of himself for coming up with that scam, the sick bastard. He had found a way of manipulating ignorant parents into letting him rape their daughters in the name of God.”
“I kept screaming and crying for my dad to come help me, but he didn’t show up. I knew he could hear me. How could he not? I was screaming pretty loudly.”
“After Miller was done, he dressed himself, and then put my panties and shorts back on. By then, I had stopped struggling. I just lied there sobbing and wondering what I had done to deserve so much cruelty. I felt so alone and worthless. After Miller was done dressing me, he walked to the door and knocked on it twice. I guess that was his signal to my dad that the healing session was over.”
“Within seconds my father walked in. I couldn’t see his face. I was lying on my side with my face turned away from him and Miller. I felt the mattress sink behind me when my father sat next to me. He pretty much repeated what he had said earlier about doing it for my own good and
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