Rejection Runs Deep (The Canleigh Series, book 1: A chilling psychological family drama) by Carole Williams (uplifting novels TXT) 📕

“What a lovely body, you have, darling.  A little on the thin side still but you don’t look too bad.  Now, relax. You are really going to enjoy this, isn’t she, Barrie?”

“Barrie … Delia … please,” but she pleaded in vain and with mounting horror and disgust she saw the look of depraved pleasure on Barrie’s face as he watched Delia fondle her.  She knew she would receive no mercy from him.  He was relishing the spectacle.

“We won’t hurt you, we promise,” purred Delia.  “We only want give you a good time,” she panted, pulling Vicky into the bedroom and towards the bed, finding it difficult with her younger sister kicking out wildly with her legs, looking around desperately for a means of escape.  However, they were three floors up and she had no intention of hurling herself out of the window, that was even if she could get to it.

“You can’t get out,” Delia said.  “We’ve locked the door downstairs and hidden the key.  So, you have no choice but to enjoy yourself for a while.”

Vicky fought like a wild animal as Barrie, laughing manically, held her captive on the bed.  She could see Delia rummaging in the bottom of Barrie’s wardrobe and wondered fearfully what was in store for her and when Delia stood up triumphantly waving some handcuffs, a leather belt, and a whip and then pulled on a pair of thigh length black leather boots, Vicky’s fright turned to sheer terror and panic.  Barrie ogled Delia with relish and sighed in ecstasy.

“Didn’t know your old man was into a bit of bondage, did you?” Delia laughed.

“Delia.  For God’s sake.  Please … let me go,” Vicky cried, tears streaming down her face.

“Oh, no, no, no, Vicky, darling.  It’s play time,” Delia grinned.

“God, I hate you both.  I’ll never forgive you for this and a divorce from you can’t come quick enough,” Vicky gulped, staring into Barrie’s crazy eyes, beads of sweat running down his brow while he tried hard to hold her still.  “I’ll make sure you don’t get a penny of my money.  I’ll expose you for what you are.  Both of you.”

But Delia ignored her.  She had dropped the whip and leather belt on the floor and was busy forcing Vicky’s legs apart and attaching her ankles to the railings of the Victorian brass bed with the handcuffs.

“I don’t know why you won’t keep still darling,” Delia smiled softly.  “We just want you to have some fun for once.”

“I can’t believe how sick and evil you both are,” cried Vicky.  “Barrie … for pity’s sake … let me go.  If you don’t, I’ll make your life hell after this.  I mean it!  You’ll be nothing and have nothing when I’ve finished with you.”

Blessedly she knew no more as Barrie’s fist smashed into her face.

CHAPTER 33 BLAIRNESS AND LONDON MARCH 1974

Ruth stood in the doorway to the red drawing room of Blairness Castle and studied the back of her husband’s greying head of hair thoughtfully, wanting to throw herself over him, like a protective blanket, and shield him from any horrors inhabitants of the world could inflict.  She couldn’t bear him to suffer pain of any kind, physical or emotional, and he was already struggling with the considerably unsettling news from Vicky’s telephone call yesterday to advise them that Delia’s case had been dismissed due to lack of evidence and she hadn’t been acquitted with her character unstained in the eyes of the law.  There was still a huge question mark over whether or not she had committed murder.  Charles had taken it stoically but with mixed emotions.  He was still hurting badly from the loss of Richard, relieved Delia was exonerated but in reality, still didn’t know what to believe, but like Ruth and Vicky, deep in his heart, he knew Delia had murdered his son.

However, Ruth had received an even more horrific telephone call from Alex an hour ago and this time she certainly wasn’t going to tell Charles.  He must never know exactly what had been going on in Vicky and Barrie’s flat.  She hated to keep anything from him but this was Vicky’s secret and if anyone told him, it had to be her … but from what Alex had imparted, it was doubtful if Vicky would ever tell anyone, let alone her own father.

A sixth sense told Charles he was being watched and he turned to look at her.  “Ruth … what is it?” he asked.  “Aren’t you feeling well?”

“I’m fine, darling,” she replied reassuringly.  A nasty cold caught had kept her in bed for a couple of days but had nearly cleared and she was feeling reasonably fit again.

It was only four in the afternoon but the thick red velvet curtains were closed, as the chilly day had turned dark early with thick black clouds whirling around the sky threatening torrential rain and a stormy night ahead.  Inside, the room looked cosy and warm with the log fire and four table lamps giving off a soft glow.  Ruth looked around her favourite room in the whole castle as she settled on the sofa beside Charles.  She had loved living here during the past few months, even in the winter, when outside could be very bleak and unwelcoming.  But she didn’t mind.  Ruth actually liked the cold.  It was comforting to be able to throw on thick clothes and thermal underwear and pad around the stone floors wearing fleecy slippers.  Roaring log fires were cheery and a treat to sit in front of on long, dark nights when she and Charles sat listening to Mozart, Beethoven or Handel, reading books or just watching the flames flickering in the fireplace.  She felt much safer and relaxed at Blairness than at Canleigh, which was so different.  It was much