A/N: This chapter is longer than my others and it is a lot more intense.
It's rated PG-13 for language, violence and sexual assault. It's written
mostly in flashback form. Thanks for reading! Please leave FB for me, I
would really like to know what you think.
Chapter 12
"Oh! But ya do look a picture Miss Chloe!" Janet exclaimed as Chloe spun around in the newly finished ball gown, the shirts swishing around her ankles. "A right Princess!" Janet shoved straight pins into the pin cushion that was tied to her wrist with a red ribbon. "D'ya like it?" Janet had been working on the gown for months, her evenings spent designing and sewing thousands of tiny glass and silver beads to the bodice and skirts.
Chloe smiled as she danced around the room to music in her head. "Och aye, Janet! Tis beautiful!" It was the first dress she had with a neckline not reaching her chin. Layers of white silk cascaded from the hand beaded bodice. Unlike the dresses worn during the day, in 1900 Chicago, this ball gown was off the shoulder with silk draped from the neckline and no sleeves to speak of. Chloe was well endowed with womanly virtues, something that until now, in this dress, no one would have really guessed at existing. She stopped in front of a full length mirror. She turned, this way and that to get the best and most angles possible. She was a little self conscious with the exposure to the tops of her breasts, revealing a hint cleavage, Just enough to entice the young men, but not label her anything but a lady.
Chloe had seen a gown like hers only once, a visiting Countess had put in an appearance at a charity ball benefitting her father's hospital, and had worn a white gown with silver beading. There had been a picture of the Countess in the Chicago Sun Times, which she cut out and tacked to her wall. It was something from the pages of Cinderella, and she very much felt like a Fairytale princess.
There was to be a ball, on her sixteenth birthday, just two weeks away, a Debutante Ball where she would be introduced to the best and brightest of Chicago society. It would be a formal affair, every eligible young man around, would be there in tuxedos and other formal garb, other single young ladies would attend as well. She would be expected to attend a flurry of parties and balls and eventually, accept an offer of marriage from a respectable match. Someone Bristol would approve of. She rolled her emerald eyes at the thought of marrying one of the stuffed shirts her "Uncle" had introduced her to over the months leading up to the ball. She wanted to follow her father's steps and become a brilliant doctor. She didn't want to worry about planning and attending so many parties, because it was her duty, that she couldn't be a doctor and raise her own family. Her parents had been different in that respect. They had money and status, but they would never have dreamed of having a governess raise their children. And, if she did marry, she wanted it to be for love, and not politics and status.
"It's perfect Janet!" She exclaimed, giving the young woman a hug.
Janet O'Brian, was in her early twenties. She had been Chloe's companion since moving into Bristol's mansion, it would not have been appropriate for her to live there without some sort of female influence. Janet was tall like Chloe, but she was rail thin. Her brown hair had no natural curl to it and hung straight and silky to the middle of her back. She normally wore it up in a bun atop her head, but in her off time, she let it hang loose with just the sides pulled back from her face.
Chloe considered her a friend and even a sister, but in the real world, Janet was a servant and not equal in status.
Janet looked out the double doors leading to the balcony, it was late now, the rain had stopped, leaving puddles around the estate grounds. Had it been daylight, she was sure Chloe would have wanted to "go puddle jumpin". She said that splashing from puddle to puddle reminded her of her sisters, Cayleigh and Hannah, and that Cayleigh's twin brother, Jamie, would have hurried around ahead of the girls to collect the earthworms that always appeared when the rains came. Jamie and Chloe would then go fishing in a stream near their home. Janet's thoughts were interupted by the door to Chloe's room slamming open.
William Bristol was a large man. He stood 6'2" and as he spent his leisure time, as many wealthy men of his time did, at a gentleman's boxing club, he was slim with well defined muscles, especially in his chest and arms. Bristol stood in the doorway, his normally flawless grooming had been tossed to the winds and his hair hung in his eyes. He'd left the estate dressed to the nines, and by the looks of it, he'd had more than his share of wine, women, and song. His previously pristine starched shirt, hung lopsided and wrinkled, the buttons haphazzardly connected, most in the incorrect holes. Harlot red lip rouge joined the stains from what looked to be port and whisky. The last was just a guess, but he smelled ripe and full of Scotch.
Bristol's hazel eyes were bloodshot and his nose was red from partaking of the evenings libations. "Leave!" he glared at Janet. "Now!" He bellowed.
She had seen him in such a temper many times over the past few years, and though he never touched her, she was terrified of him. Janet looked up at Chloe, hesitant to leave her alone with him, afraid that he would beat on her again. Bristol grabbed her arm tightly, his fingers digging into her flesh as he dragged her across the room and shoving her out the door. He pushed her with such force she tumbled to the floor in a heap of skirts.
Bristol then slammed the heavy mahogany door shut with a 'bang' that rattled the windows and chandeliers all the way down the hall. He turned his master key in the lock, turned his vicious gaze to Chloe, and stalked forward. Chloe resisted the urge to back up, there was no where for her to go really, so she pulled herself to her full height and braced herself for what she knew was coming.
"Well, well, finally dressed as the whore you are I see!" Bristol licked his lips as he grabbed her upper arms, wrinkling the stark white fabric with his filthy hands. Chloe wanted to wretch at the smell of his breath. She made a face and pulled her head back in a futile attempt to avoid the stench. This only angered him further. Bristol spun them around and forced her across the room, slamming her into the wall with such force that her head snapped back, smashing through the plaster, leaving an imprint about an inch deep. The cruel action left her stunned and breathless.
Bristol allowed his dirty fingers to trace the neckline of the gown, stopping at her breasts then caressed the visible cleavage lightly as if he were with a lover rather than his niece.
Chloe shook her head and tears stung her eyes. "Please, stop."
She could hear Janet pounding on the door, desperate to get to her, to save her, not yet realizing that there was nothing for her to do. Calling the magistrate again would be useless, he was Bristol's best mate from college and his connections and Bristol's money greased the palms of enough people in high places that he was basically untouchable.
Bristol slapped her, his signate ring split her cheek. Warm blood flowed down her face, mixing with her tears and splattering on the front of the alabaster gown. "Stupid Scottish whore!" he yelled, his words breaking through the haze in her mind. "Now look what you've done! This dress cost me a mint and you've gone and ruined it!"
Chloe pulled herself away from the wall and shoved at him with all of her strength. He was half a foot taller and nearly double her weight, but he'd had a lot of whisky so he stumbled backwards enough for her to dart across the room. But the layers of skirts wrapped around her legs slowing her down enough for him to gain his bearings and lunge at her. He snatched up a fist full of her curls and wrapped his fist into her hair yanking her head back and causing her to stop just feet from the door. He dragged her backwards to him. "That, luv, was a big mistake!" he hissed in her ear, his hot breath on her neck sent chills of disgust through her body. He touched his tongue to her throat and dragged it up to her ear then across her face to her mouth leaving a sickeningly slimy trail. He claimed her mouth then, kissing her hard, bruising her lips. She tried to fight him but he had her hair so tight she couldn't move her head. When his tongue tried to pry her lips open she quickly opened her mouth and bit him until she tasted blood. He yelped and brought his empty hand into a fist and struck her temple hard enough to knock her unconscious.
She awoke on her bed, pinned beneath him, to him groping her breasts through the gown. He wasn't pleased with the feel of all of the beads in his hand so he pushed himself up so he could see and grabbed the top of the bodice. With a grunt he yanked the delicate garment and ripped the dress to Chloe's waist, exposing her breasts. She began squirming beneath him. He'd yanked up her skirts and she could feel the cool air and the wool of his trousers against her thighs. "No!" she screamed but she had no breath to propel the protest from her lips. It came out as a hoarse whisper.
Once again, Bristol began groping her breasts with his clammy hands against her flesh. Chloe reached out around her, desperately grabbing for something to defend herself with. While his hands were fumbling drunkenly over her body, bruising and scratching her, she felt the cool porcelain pitcher and wash basin resting on her night table. Wildly grasping the handle of the heavy pitcher, she pulled it to her and wacked him over the head with it, shattering the pitcher, water and shards of porcelain flying everywhere and blood gushing from his temple. He cried out stunned, but not deterred and began prying her thighs apart with his knee. Cursing her under his breath, slurring the words so badly she couldn't quite make out what he was saying. She screamed and pounded her fists against his shoulders. He sat up, giving her enough room to reach the heavy candle stick on her bed table. No sooner did she have the weighty silver object in her hand, but he started to choke her, she dug her nails into his face with all her might. Gasping for air, Chloe brought the candle stick down hard against the back of his head with a sickening thud, but this time, she didn't stop. She hit him over and over until he stopped moving and his death-grip on her throat released. He collapsed on top of her.
The candle stick, wet and sticky with Bristol's blood, slipped from her fingers to the ground. Chloe wriggled and shoved until she was free of his body. Rolling to the floor where she landed on her knees. She looked up at her bed, at Bristol's lifeless form. Backing away, she felt the breeze against her bare breasts, and though he wasn't able to see her, she clutched at the shredded gown to cover herself. She was soaked from tears, water, sweat and blood. She shivered as she slid her key from the dresser and then used it to open the lock. The door swung open to reveal Janet and the House Keeper, a sweet old woman called May, searching a large key-ring for a key to fit the lock, and looking terrified. Chloe, her legs aching and bruised, stumbled through the door to the wall across from her and slid down it to the floor and began to sob.
~*~
Chloe raised a shaking hand to her throat, the memory of his touch lingering there. She shuddered at the vivid memories and stared at the ever more interesting toes of her boots. Tears flowing freely, but making no sound. She'd told them. Told them what she'd done. Now all she could do was wait for their response to it.
Jack and the others sat quietly for a moment, he wrestled with his own emotions. He wanted to cry for her. He wanted to scream to God that it wasn't right for any girl to be treated like that and demand He make it go away. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and never ever let another man touch her. But, more than anything, he wanted to kill William Bristol for destroying her innocence. Jack Kelly didn't do any of these things. Instead, he reached up and swept the veil of curls behind Chloe's ear. He gently lifted her chin, guiding it to turn so he could see her eyes. He smoothed away her tears with his thumbs, then, thinking better of it, he untied the bandana from his neck, spread it open and tucked it into her hand. He gave her a small smile. "Yer safe here." He said into her emerald eyes. "An' don't look so scared, ya didn't do nuttin wrong."
"Jack's right," Race spoke up. "What happened ain't yer fault, kid." He reached out and rested his hand over the sisters' clasped hands. He could see that Hope was hurting too, he wasn't sure what to do bout it though.
"Da Bastid desoived ta have his skull cracked." Spot spoke for the first time in ages, and his words echoed the thoughts of all three boys. He lit up another cigarette. "He desoives ta be dead." Spot clenched his fists, stood and walked to the wall so he could look out into the night.
Racetrack crossed himself, a horrifying realization coming over him. "Um, Chloe." His voice was low. "Bristol, he...uhh." He swallowed hard, wanting to know, but not wanting to ask the question they all had on their minds. "Is he dead?"
"Shuddap Race!" Cayleigh scrunched up her nose. "Chloe, didny kill nobody!" She turned to look at Chloe, hoping for confirmation of some sort. "Did ya Chloe." She stated. When Chloe dropped her head again, Cayleigh continued, "did you?"
Chloe had been concerned with the same question. She shook her head. "Ah dinny ken." She shrugged. "Ah didnae stop ta check his pulse...Ah just wanted oot of there."
"He ain't dead." Jack said softly. "If he was dead, somebody dat powah-ful, it woulda been all ovah da papes by now." He motioned for Spot to share his cigarette with him. He'd nearly quit since the fight with the Delancey boys had taken a tole on his chest. Spot handed him the cigarette. He took a drag and somehow managed to not cough up a lung.
"Jacky-boy's right." Spot crouched down behind the girls. Placing a hand on each girl's shoulder. "Dehr ain't been nuttin in da papes, but I'll get me boids on it. If deh's anythin' to know, dey'll find it."
Before anything else could be said, the sky lit up with a massive lightning show. A second later thunder boomed, and the heavens opened up, dumping cascades of cold rain on the friends.
They gathered up the bedrolls and headed back inside.
~*~*~*~*~*~
END CHAPTER 12
~*~*~*~*~*~
No time for SOs this time. Sorry guys. Thanks to all those that have read and reviewed! I luv you all bunches n bunches! I will catch up on the SOs next time.
~Sagey~
Chapter 12
"Oh! But ya do look a picture Miss Chloe!" Janet exclaimed as Chloe spun around in the newly finished ball gown, the shirts swishing around her ankles. "A right Princess!" Janet shoved straight pins into the pin cushion that was tied to her wrist with a red ribbon. "D'ya like it?" Janet had been working on the gown for months, her evenings spent designing and sewing thousands of tiny glass and silver beads to the bodice and skirts.
Chloe smiled as she danced around the room to music in her head. "Och aye, Janet! Tis beautiful!" It was the first dress she had with a neckline not reaching her chin. Layers of white silk cascaded from the hand beaded bodice. Unlike the dresses worn during the day, in 1900 Chicago, this ball gown was off the shoulder with silk draped from the neckline and no sleeves to speak of. Chloe was well endowed with womanly virtues, something that until now, in this dress, no one would have really guessed at existing. She stopped in front of a full length mirror. She turned, this way and that to get the best and most angles possible. She was a little self conscious with the exposure to the tops of her breasts, revealing a hint cleavage, Just enough to entice the young men, but not label her anything but a lady.
Chloe had seen a gown like hers only once, a visiting Countess had put in an appearance at a charity ball benefitting her father's hospital, and had worn a white gown with silver beading. There had been a picture of the Countess in the Chicago Sun Times, which she cut out and tacked to her wall. It was something from the pages of Cinderella, and she very much felt like a Fairytale princess.
There was to be a ball, on her sixteenth birthday, just two weeks away, a Debutante Ball where she would be introduced to the best and brightest of Chicago society. It would be a formal affair, every eligible young man around, would be there in tuxedos and other formal garb, other single young ladies would attend as well. She would be expected to attend a flurry of parties and balls and eventually, accept an offer of marriage from a respectable match. Someone Bristol would approve of. She rolled her emerald eyes at the thought of marrying one of the stuffed shirts her "Uncle" had introduced her to over the months leading up to the ball. She wanted to follow her father's steps and become a brilliant doctor. She didn't want to worry about planning and attending so many parties, because it was her duty, that she couldn't be a doctor and raise her own family. Her parents had been different in that respect. They had money and status, but they would never have dreamed of having a governess raise their children. And, if she did marry, she wanted it to be for love, and not politics and status.
"It's perfect Janet!" She exclaimed, giving the young woman a hug.
Janet O'Brian, was in her early twenties. She had been Chloe's companion since moving into Bristol's mansion, it would not have been appropriate for her to live there without some sort of female influence. Janet was tall like Chloe, but she was rail thin. Her brown hair had no natural curl to it and hung straight and silky to the middle of her back. She normally wore it up in a bun atop her head, but in her off time, she let it hang loose with just the sides pulled back from her face.
Chloe considered her a friend and even a sister, but in the real world, Janet was a servant and not equal in status.
Janet looked out the double doors leading to the balcony, it was late now, the rain had stopped, leaving puddles around the estate grounds. Had it been daylight, she was sure Chloe would have wanted to "go puddle jumpin". She said that splashing from puddle to puddle reminded her of her sisters, Cayleigh and Hannah, and that Cayleigh's twin brother, Jamie, would have hurried around ahead of the girls to collect the earthworms that always appeared when the rains came. Jamie and Chloe would then go fishing in a stream near their home. Janet's thoughts were interupted by the door to Chloe's room slamming open.
William Bristol was a large man. He stood 6'2" and as he spent his leisure time, as many wealthy men of his time did, at a gentleman's boxing club, he was slim with well defined muscles, especially in his chest and arms. Bristol stood in the doorway, his normally flawless grooming had been tossed to the winds and his hair hung in his eyes. He'd left the estate dressed to the nines, and by the looks of it, he'd had more than his share of wine, women, and song. His previously pristine starched shirt, hung lopsided and wrinkled, the buttons haphazzardly connected, most in the incorrect holes. Harlot red lip rouge joined the stains from what looked to be port and whisky. The last was just a guess, but he smelled ripe and full of Scotch.
Bristol's hazel eyes were bloodshot and his nose was red from partaking of the evenings libations. "Leave!" he glared at Janet. "Now!" He bellowed.
She had seen him in such a temper many times over the past few years, and though he never touched her, she was terrified of him. Janet looked up at Chloe, hesitant to leave her alone with him, afraid that he would beat on her again. Bristol grabbed her arm tightly, his fingers digging into her flesh as he dragged her across the room and shoving her out the door. He pushed her with such force she tumbled to the floor in a heap of skirts.
Bristol then slammed the heavy mahogany door shut with a 'bang' that rattled the windows and chandeliers all the way down the hall. He turned his master key in the lock, turned his vicious gaze to Chloe, and stalked forward. Chloe resisted the urge to back up, there was no where for her to go really, so she pulled herself to her full height and braced herself for what she knew was coming.
"Well, well, finally dressed as the whore you are I see!" Bristol licked his lips as he grabbed her upper arms, wrinkling the stark white fabric with his filthy hands. Chloe wanted to wretch at the smell of his breath. She made a face and pulled her head back in a futile attempt to avoid the stench. This only angered him further. Bristol spun them around and forced her across the room, slamming her into the wall with such force that her head snapped back, smashing through the plaster, leaving an imprint about an inch deep. The cruel action left her stunned and breathless.
Bristol allowed his dirty fingers to trace the neckline of the gown, stopping at her breasts then caressed the visible cleavage lightly as if he were with a lover rather than his niece.
Chloe shook her head and tears stung her eyes. "Please, stop."
She could hear Janet pounding on the door, desperate to get to her, to save her, not yet realizing that there was nothing for her to do. Calling the magistrate again would be useless, he was Bristol's best mate from college and his connections and Bristol's money greased the palms of enough people in high places that he was basically untouchable.
Bristol slapped her, his signate ring split her cheek. Warm blood flowed down her face, mixing with her tears and splattering on the front of the alabaster gown. "Stupid Scottish whore!" he yelled, his words breaking through the haze in her mind. "Now look what you've done! This dress cost me a mint and you've gone and ruined it!"
Chloe pulled herself away from the wall and shoved at him with all of her strength. He was half a foot taller and nearly double her weight, but he'd had a lot of whisky so he stumbled backwards enough for her to dart across the room. But the layers of skirts wrapped around her legs slowing her down enough for him to gain his bearings and lunge at her. He snatched up a fist full of her curls and wrapped his fist into her hair yanking her head back and causing her to stop just feet from the door. He dragged her backwards to him. "That, luv, was a big mistake!" he hissed in her ear, his hot breath on her neck sent chills of disgust through her body. He touched his tongue to her throat and dragged it up to her ear then across her face to her mouth leaving a sickeningly slimy trail. He claimed her mouth then, kissing her hard, bruising her lips. She tried to fight him but he had her hair so tight she couldn't move her head. When his tongue tried to pry her lips open she quickly opened her mouth and bit him until she tasted blood. He yelped and brought his empty hand into a fist and struck her temple hard enough to knock her unconscious.
She awoke on her bed, pinned beneath him, to him groping her breasts through the gown. He wasn't pleased with the feel of all of the beads in his hand so he pushed himself up so he could see and grabbed the top of the bodice. With a grunt he yanked the delicate garment and ripped the dress to Chloe's waist, exposing her breasts. She began squirming beneath him. He'd yanked up her skirts and she could feel the cool air and the wool of his trousers against her thighs. "No!" she screamed but she had no breath to propel the protest from her lips. It came out as a hoarse whisper.
Once again, Bristol began groping her breasts with his clammy hands against her flesh. Chloe reached out around her, desperately grabbing for something to defend herself with. While his hands were fumbling drunkenly over her body, bruising and scratching her, she felt the cool porcelain pitcher and wash basin resting on her night table. Wildly grasping the handle of the heavy pitcher, she pulled it to her and wacked him over the head with it, shattering the pitcher, water and shards of porcelain flying everywhere and blood gushing from his temple. He cried out stunned, but not deterred and began prying her thighs apart with his knee. Cursing her under his breath, slurring the words so badly she couldn't quite make out what he was saying. She screamed and pounded her fists against his shoulders. He sat up, giving her enough room to reach the heavy candle stick on her bed table. No sooner did she have the weighty silver object in her hand, but he started to choke her, she dug her nails into his face with all her might. Gasping for air, Chloe brought the candle stick down hard against the back of his head with a sickening thud, but this time, she didn't stop. She hit him over and over until he stopped moving and his death-grip on her throat released. He collapsed on top of her.
The candle stick, wet and sticky with Bristol's blood, slipped from her fingers to the ground. Chloe wriggled and shoved until she was free of his body. Rolling to the floor where she landed on her knees. She looked up at her bed, at Bristol's lifeless form. Backing away, she felt the breeze against her bare breasts, and though he wasn't able to see her, she clutched at the shredded gown to cover herself. She was soaked from tears, water, sweat and blood. She shivered as she slid her key from the dresser and then used it to open the lock. The door swung open to reveal Janet and the House Keeper, a sweet old woman called May, searching a large key-ring for a key to fit the lock, and looking terrified. Chloe, her legs aching and bruised, stumbled through the door to the wall across from her and slid down it to the floor and began to sob.
~*~
Chloe raised a shaking hand to her throat, the memory of his touch lingering there. She shuddered at the vivid memories and stared at the ever more interesting toes of her boots. Tears flowing freely, but making no sound. She'd told them. Told them what she'd done. Now all she could do was wait for their response to it.
Jack and the others sat quietly for a moment, he wrestled with his own emotions. He wanted to cry for her. He wanted to scream to God that it wasn't right for any girl to be treated like that and demand He make it go away. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and never ever let another man touch her. But, more than anything, he wanted to kill William Bristol for destroying her innocence. Jack Kelly didn't do any of these things. Instead, he reached up and swept the veil of curls behind Chloe's ear. He gently lifted her chin, guiding it to turn so he could see her eyes. He smoothed away her tears with his thumbs, then, thinking better of it, he untied the bandana from his neck, spread it open and tucked it into her hand. He gave her a small smile. "Yer safe here." He said into her emerald eyes. "An' don't look so scared, ya didn't do nuttin wrong."
"Jack's right," Race spoke up. "What happened ain't yer fault, kid." He reached out and rested his hand over the sisters' clasped hands. He could see that Hope was hurting too, he wasn't sure what to do bout it though.
"Da Bastid desoived ta have his skull cracked." Spot spoke for the first time in ages, and his words echoed the thoughts of all three boys. He lit up another cigarette. "He desoives ta be dead." Spot clenched his fists, stood and walked to the wall so he could look out into the night.
Racetrack crossed himself, a horrifying realization coming over him. "Um, Chloe." His voice was low. "Bristol, he...uhh." He swallowed hard, wanting to know, but not wanting to ask the question they all had on their minds. "Is he dead?"
"Shuddap Race!" Cayleigh scrunched up her nose. "Chloe, didny kill nobody!" She turned to look at Chloe, hoping for confirmation of some sort. "Did ya Chloe." She stated. When Chloe dropped her head again, Cayleigh continued, "did you?"
Chloe had been concerned with the same question. She shook her head. "Ah dinny ken." She shrugged. "Ah didnae stop ta check his pulse...Ah just wanted oot of there."
"He ain't dead." Jack said softly. "If he was dead, somebody dat powah-ful, it woulda been all ovah da papes by now." He motioned for Spot to share his cigarette with him. He'd nearly quit since the fight with the Delancey boys had taken a tole on his chest. Spot handed him the cigarette. He took a drag and somehow managed to not cough up a lung.
"Jacky-boy's right." Spot crouched down behind the girls. Placing a hand on each girl's shoulder. "Dehr ain't been nuttin in da papes, but I'll get me boids on it. If deh's anythin' to know, dey'll find it."
Before anything else could be said, the sky lit up with a massive lightning show. A second later thunder boomed, and the heavens opened up, dumping cascades of cold rain on the friends.
They gathered up the bedrolls and headed back inside.
~*~*~*~*~*~
END CHAPTER 12
~*~*~*~*~*~
No time for SOs this time. Sorry guys. Thanks to all those that have read and reviewed! I luv you all bunches n bunches! I will catch up on the SOs next time.
~Sagey~