Silent Guilt Read online

  A NOVEL

  by

  N. E. HENDERSON

  Copyright © 2014 Nancy Henderson

  Self Publishing

  www.nehenderson.com

  The song “No Matter What” as are all songs/lyrics referenced in this book are copyright © Papa Roach

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used as fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Disclaimer: The material in the book is indented for adult readers only, age 18+. This novel contains graphic sexual content, graphic violence, and harsh language.

  Editor: Becky Johnson, Hot Tree Editing

  http://www.hottreeedits.com

  Cover Designer: Stephanie White

  http://www.stephscoverdesign.com

  First edition: June 2014

  ISBN: 10: 0991244451

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9912444-5-4

  DEDICATION

  To my husband, I love you

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  You, my reader. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading my story and taking a chance on me. Thank you for sticking around and I’m sorry I left you which such an awful cliffhanger in Silent No More. I’m sorry I didn’t get this book published sooner, but I had to make sure it was perfect; Nick’s story was perfect. And to me, it is. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you again!

  Joe and Michael, my world. Thank you both as I know my writing takes my time away from you guys. I love you guys so much.

  Sabrina, thank you for everything. Without you, I don’t know if I could have finished this story. Thank you for the advice and encouragement. Thank you for the many texts and helping me make this story better.

  Lindsey, I’m so glad I met you through my writing and the book community. Thank you for beta reading book 2. I appreciate your help, thoughts, advice, and proofreading.

  Becky, you rock and I’m so glad I have you for an editor. You go so far beyond that. I love you brain. Thank you for making this book and the first one what it is now. You’re a great editor.

  Stephanie, you nailed it again. I love my cover and your creative mind.

  Teri and Sue, thank you for beta reading this book. You comments were amazing. Thank you for pointing things out and making me think. You guys are awesome and the BEST!

  Bloggers, I’m not sure where to begin. Thank You is fitting, but not enough. There are so many of you that’s helped me over the last few months and I thank you. Sizzling Pages, Love Between The Sheets, A Risqué Affair, Bookworm Betties, and SO many more. Thank you guys so much!!!

  PROLOGUE

  What the fuck have I done? The words are silently pounding inside my head over and over. It’s like a bad pop song on repeat. To top it off, I have a tsunami-size migraine trying to kick its way out of my skull as I stand, staring down, watching the strong, beautiful woman sleeping soundly in her bed.

  Shannon is finally asleep after hours of crying on my chest out in the living room. Some were soft, silent tears that only wet my shirt. Others were loud, ugly cries that made her pound her small fists into my chest. All made me want to rip something apart. No, not something, I remind myself…someone.

  My father.

  Towering above her, I bend at my waist and pull the covers over her body, tucking her in tightly. She was exhausted when I brought her in here and is now passed out on her side with her head resting on her pillow and her hands tucked in tightly underneath. At least, I hope she’s out for the next few hours. She needs all the sleep and comfort she can get right now. Too bad, I’m not that someone who can give her the comfort she needs.

  Why?

  Because I’m the someone who caused all this shit that’s happened to her. I’ve fucked up in more ways than I ever imagined possible. But I can’t think about me right now. I need to think about her and righting the wrong I’ve caused.

  Righting myself up, I continue to look down at her. She is everything I always wanted, but also knew I could never have. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I close my eyes only to reopen them immediately. I can’t shut them. Every time I do, I see red and I can’t breathe. I should have killed that bastard ten fucking years ago, and she would never have been raped once, let alone twice.

  I’m a real piece of shit for letting this happen.

  I don’t deserve her. I’ll never deserve her.

  Moving quietly, I grab her cell phone that’s lying on the nightstand next to the bed. Bringing the screen to life, I see it’s a little past midnight. Quickly, I locate her music app and find her favorite Papa Roach album, “Metamorphosis”. After hitting play, I put the album on repeat. Shannon is one of the few people, like myself, who can sleep peacefully while lyrics are being screamed in the background. Still, I set the volume of the music down to a low beat so I don’t take a chance in waking her. Before setting the phone back on the nightstand, I flip the switch on the side of her phone to silent, so it doesn’t ring while I’m gone.

  Reaching into my right pocket, I take my own phone out and put the ringer on silent as well. I then place the phone next to hers. Turning on my heels, I make my way into the closet, quietly as possible, grabbing my extra gym bag lying on the floor in a corner next to hers. Walking back into her room, I take one more last look at the sleeping beauty lying in the bed before exiting the room just as “Lifeline” starts to filter through the small speakers on her cell phone.

  I don’t have a plan, not really anyway. My head knows I shouldn’t be going to confront my father. It’s a bad idea, a very bad idea, but I’ve never been one to listen to the voice of reason. I grab Shannon’s car keys lying in a basket next to the front door, and quietly slip out, locking the door behind me. Looking down, I remember Niko lying on the ground when I first arrived hours ago, causing my hands to ball into tight fists. His blood still stains the concrete under my feet. The motherfucker killed my damn dog. I don’t have proof, but I know he did it. It’s too coincidental. I also know what the message behind it meant and I’ll be damned if I let him hurt her a third time.

  Jase has probably already handled Niko by now. Knowing him, he buried him in my back yard before he headed to his fight. A fight I had every intention of going to until my sister had to be bailed out of jail and then demanded to be taken to Shannon’s house. Nikki was frightened and that doesn’t happen to my sister often. She never shows weakness, which is why I didn’t fight her on coming here.

  Hitting the unlock button on her key fob, I open the driver’s side door, toss my gym bag into the passenger’s seat, and then sink down into the car. Immediately, I have to adjust the seat to accommodate my long legs and there still isn’t quite enough room, causing me to mutter a slew of curse words under my breath. She needs a bigger car, I think to myself as I ease the door shut. Who the hell enjoys driving this box of shit? I shove the key into the ignition, turning it so the engine comes to life. Simultaneously the radio starts blaring “Had Enough”.

  “Fuck!” I shout.

  Startled, I grab the volume dial on the radio and turn it down as quickly as my fingers will move. I don’t think it was loud enough to wake her, and I’m lucky her house isn’t as close to her neighbors as most in this neighborhood are. I don’t need to wake them either. I have no idea what I’m about to do, but I’m smart enoug
h to know I don’t want anyone to see me coming or going. Throwing the gearshift into reverse, I ease out of the driveway.

  I could almost laugh at the song choice coming through the speakers if the lyrics weren’t so dead on at this very moment. Almost!

  Once I’m on the highway, I head south in the direction I know I’ll find my father—at his on again, off again Mistress’ townhouse. My dad doesn’t know I know about her, but I do. I have for a long time. It’s only about a twenty-minute drive away, and with zero traffic, I can probably make it in fifteen.

  The red flags continue to go up in front of my eyes. I need to listen to Jase and not do something stupid, but I can’t stop myself. The beast inside is raging a war and wants to be set free. There aren’t enough chains in the county of Los Angeles that could hold me back from ripping that monster apart. I’ve never been this on edge before. Not before or during a fight. Not any of the times I watched or heard him hurt my mother. It should scare the shit out of me, but it doesn’t.

  I’ve always known my good-for-nothing father was an evil bastard, but never in a million years would I have thought he was capable of what he did to Shannon. The lyrics to the song that just finished playing on the stereo keep repeating in my head. We have had enough.

  By the time I make it to the small community, my dad’s girlfriend lives in, I only have one thing on my mind; hurting the man who damaged my beautiful girl. I honestly don’t care what happens to me as long as he pays for everything he’s done. I’m not stupid. I know people rarely get away with the shit I’m about to do, but it has to be done. I’ll be damned if I let her feel unprotected another day. If that makes me a bad person…well then, I just don’t give a flyin’ fuck.

  Parking the car in a small deserted parking lot a block from Monica’s townhouse, I turn off the engine, but I can’t bring myself to get out. I have a death grip on the steering wheel as I lean my head back against the headrest. There is still the rational side of me that is trying to talk myself out of it. I know there is no going back once I step out of this car. The other part knows if I don’t do this, I won’t be able to live with myself.

  Decision made!

  Releasing the grip on the steering wheel, I reach over and unzip my gym bag that’s seated next to me. I take out my sparring gloves and start to put each one on, noticing a few scratches on my left arm and a small cut above my knuckles on my right hand. At least if I’m questioned, I have my training as an excuse if I come away with any marks. Once my gloves are secured tightly, I open the door, get out of the vehicle and make my way down the set of steps to the next parking lot.

  Noticing the dark car in front of me, I feel a sense of relief; at least he’s still here. Once I make it past his car and to the end of the parking lot, I jog down another set of steps that lead to the private beach. Her house isn’t far from this point. My father thinks he’s slick because he doesn’t park in her driveway. No, that wouldn’t make good headlines if an LA judge were caught having an affair.

  Once my feet hit the sand, I slow my pace. This is a quiet community and many of the townhouses are rentals for vacationers. I don’t need anyone seeing me. At least, not until I’m finished doing what I came here to do. If someone saw me now, I’d think it would look odd since I’m wearing fighting gloves with a button down shirt and jeans. I certainly don’t need the cops called before I handle my father.

  After a few minutes trekking down the beach, I see a figure in the distance, causing me to stop moving forward. There is a large fence wrapped around what I assume is a dumpster to my left. I quickly hop behind it and wait. My heart is pounding a tattoo in my chest. After what feels like an eternity of waiting, the figure passes me. There is enough light shining down from the moon that I know it’s him, my father, but I can’t move my body. My feet are frozen to the ground.

  Fuck.

  How can I do this? I’m not like him. Even with all the shit, I’ve done over the years. I’m not evil. Only evil people kill, right?

  Fuck.

  I don’t need this shit right now. I don’t need a conscience.

  “Goddamn it,” I hear him say as he halts and pivots around. First, I think it’s because he’s seen me, but he doesn’t look in my direction. He’s going back in the direction he came from. After he passes me yet again, I find myself following him. He must have forgotten something. I can feel my heart rate accelerating inside me. All the hate I have for this man is boiling to the surface. My body begins to heat and my fists clench together. I can’t see anything, but the color red when I take a deep breath.

  “You sick motherfucking fuck,” I spit out in a disgusted tone, causing the man in front me to stop dead in his tracks.

  There is a small moment of silence before he speaks.

  “Nicholas?” he questions. His voice is shaky. It’s not the confident sound that normally pours out of his mouth. He slowly turns, facing me and his eyes grow wide as they dip down to my hands.

  He doesn’t have a chance to say another word before I tackle him to the ground, moving to sit on top of him. I start to pound, releasing everything I feel inside of me into him. The sound of my fists hitting flesh and bone is the only thing echoing in my ears. Over and over, I connect to him, hitting and punching my father in the face. It drowns out the waves crashing to the shore only a few feet away from where I have him on the ground. I always suspected my dad wasn’t a fighter and now I know for sure. He doesn’t know how to fight me off or even how to flip me over.

  He is a sorry excuse for a man, let alone a father. He doesn’t deserve the breath he takes. This man deserves to burn in hell. And that’s exactly where I plan on sending him.

  When I can’t punch anymore, when all the fight in my body is gone, I sit back. Looking down, his face finally comes back into focus. My dad isn’t moving. His body is limp, bloody and looks broken. It’s a sight that echoes the way I feel. Quickly looking up and around, I see there is no one in the area but the two of us.

  Shit.

  What have I just done? I’m letting my conscience get the better of me.

  Fuck.

  I jump up off his body. I don’t know if he’s dead, but I can guess.

  Fuck.

  Isn’t this what I wanted? Yeah, it is, but hell. I take a step back and rub my hand over my face. That piercing feeling in the center of my chest hasn’t gone away. Did I think it would? Did I think killing him would ease my own guilt?

  I wanted it to.

  Without thinking too long, I bend down and gather his body. I make my way down to the ocean with my father thrown over my shoulder. Going into the water thigh deep, I let his body fall from my shoulder, into the cool water. I start walking backwards out of the water as I watch his body float face down.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Once I’m out of the water, I turn and jog to the stairs, making my way up and over to the next set. Before I know it, I’m back at Shannon’s car and I’m ripping the gloves off. Walking around to the passenger’s side, I open the door and pull out the towel and spare clothes from my gym bag. Then I place the gloves inside. As quickly as I can, I strip out of my soaked clothes, tossing them into the bag and then towel off the water on my body. After placing the towel in my bag, I pull on a pair of gym shorts and a sleeveless workout shirt. Shutting the car door, I jog around to the driver’s side and hop in.

  Holy shit. What the hell have I done? What if he’s dead? What if he’s not dead? Shit. I should have at least made sure.

  “FUCK!” I yell as I hit the steering wheel at the same time. I start the car and slam the gear into drive.

  ONE

  Oh, fuck. Oh, shit. Oh, fucking hell.

  Pregnant? She’s pregnant. Shannon’s pregnant. Oh, God…I’m. We are...

  Fuuuuck.

  I make my way to Nikki’s car, swinging the door open and plopping down into the seat in a daze. I feel like the air has been sucked right out of my lungs. I slam my head back into the headrest¸ fru
strated as I pull the door closed.

  I’m hot. It’s too damn hot inside this car. Why am I so fucking hot? My body is on fire. Must be, but it’s not.

  “Why is there no goddamn air running in your fucking car?” I yell at my sister before turning a nasty look in her direction.

  “Don’t you fucking yell at me, Nick. The air is running, asshole,” she spits out while gesturing with her right hand to the A/C vent in the middle of the dashboard.

  Leaning forward in the seat, I bring my forehead to rest in the palm of my hands and attempt to bring air in through my mouth, but it’s a struggle. I can’t even think straight.

  Pregnant?

  “Nick, are you okay?” Nikki asks and I almost want to laugh; only none of this is anything to laugh about. My sister’s voice sounds so far away with everything else that’s running through my head. I can hear the pounding of my own heart beating rapidly in my chest. She’s pregnant. We’re having a baby. What the fuck have I done? “Nick?”

  “Just get me the fuck out of here. Take me to my house,” I demand, throwing my body back into the seat. My heart may not have any sympathy for the man I killed, but my brain knows what I did was wrong. So very fucking wrong. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not sorry, but fuck…everything has changed with two simple words, ‘I’m pregnant’. I’m going to be a father. I was fine with going to prison for killing him, but not if I have a kid.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I yell as loud as my voice will push the words out of my mouth. I hear Nikki put the car in reverse and then I’m jerked further back into the seat as she accelerates the gas pedal. My sister isn’t exactly the smoothest driver. Then again, I’ve never met a chick that I’d consider a good driver. I doubt I ever will.

  My eyes are closed, but I can still feel every jerk and pull as she makes each turn. She turns the volume on the radio up, but not loud enough that a conversation can’t be had over the music. Before I know it, she is pulling into my driveway and parking her car. I open my eyes before swinging my head in her direction. She’s biting her fingernails and giving me a pleading look. Damn that look.