Art of Survival: Part One (A Stern Family Saga Book 5) Read online

  Before our reception, I’m immediately thrown into a room. All the bosses, including our leader William, pat me on the back, congratulating me for a job well done. We smoke cigars and have our fill of whiskey as it’s announced that I am now family. I’m no longer a soldier. I became a made man, a boss now equal to them. By my surprise, I’m given all the territory I wanted. Marrying Beth did exactly what it was meant to do. It’s gives me the life I’ve always wanted.

  As I walked into the reception, I stand back in the crowd watching Beth mingle with our guests. She plays her role to perfection. This is her territory. Daughters born into this life are taught at a very young age, what is expected from them and what their role will be to their future husbands. This is where she excels. She’s using her teachings to work the room, not only for her benefit but for mine as well. We are a package deal now. The higher I climb will also be accomplishments. I’m in such awe of her. She gains every bit of my respect the more I watch her.

  When all is said and done, I carry my new bride across the threshold of our new home that is a gift from her parents. I know what is expected as does she. Consummation is a must. Her mother and Aunts will be asking her tomorrow. They have been preparing her for this night and it’s my obligation to take my wife’s virtue. Something that every girl in the families hold sacred for only their husbands.

  I’m waiting anxiously in our bedroom while she changes her clothes. Pacing back and forth with a drink in my hand, trying to figure out if I can actually go through with this. I haven’t been with another woman since I started with Catherine. I love Catherine and even though I’m not a good man, I’ve always been faithful.

  It’s been so long though since me and Catherine have slept together. I don’t know what happened, we were so good together. I accepted she wouldn’t leave William then somewhere out of the blue she cut me off. I tried my hardest to make her see my love for her, but she wouldn’t change her mind. But I know it kills her just like me. I see it in her eyes every time I see her. She can’t hide from me and she definitely can’t lie to me. Something else is going on that she doesn’t want me finding out about.

  Before I can have another thought our bathroom door opens and I see a vision. Beth. Wearing a long silk, slip gown, looking just as nervous as me. She’s glowing. The light behind her acts almost like a halo around her small frame. Her silky long brown hair is draped over one shoulder as she stands there watching me. I swallow hard knowing this is it. She starts nervously walking towards me, stopping right in front of my chest. Without a word spoken, her fingers start shaking as she works at undoing the buttons on my shirt. I stop her by grabbing her hands, then turn to set my drink down. I look back at her trying to give her a reassuring smile. With her small hands in mine, I tell her the truth.

  “I am not a good man Beth. I’ve done things that can never be forgiven, and you know I love…”

  She stops me by putting her finger over my mouth, not letting me finish what she already knows. Then with one look she tells me,

  “But you’re my husband, not hers. When you’re with me, you’re mine. Can you promise me that? Promise, when you are with me, it’s only me, and I will be yours forever.”

  Just hearing her say she was mine does something to me. I kiss her like a husband should and decide to never look back. I promise and close the door on Catherine. I make love to my wife, taking her innocence, knowing I’m condemning her to a life with me by her side. A life I hope she won’t hate me for, because I’m ruining her for all others.

  I wipe my tears, remembering my wife and even though I shouldn’t, I beg her for strength to get me through this once again.

  3

  Catherine

  A short time later, Jeffery comes back to my room, disappointed.

  “Ms. Catherine, you have to eat. This is not good for you.”

  “I’m fine Jeffery. I just don’t have the stomach for it right now.”

  He eyes me and overthinks what to say next. But before he can say anything, I interrupt him and ask if my sons have left for the day.

  “No, ma’am, the boys have all stayed home from work again. They’re worried and waiting to see you.”

  “Not now, Jeffery. Tell them I need to rest.”

  Understanding, he grabs the tray and walks out. Alone again, I reach out to my journal, flipping back through the pages of my life. Deciding to go back to where it all began, my earliest memory. Maybe not a full memory but the feeling of one. My mother.

  I don’t remember her, not really. I only remember the feeling of her absence. It’s the only way I can explain it. I feel her presence and then I don’t, but I remember the feeling of her leaving me. The mourning process of having been abandoned. I remember crying for the loss of love I know I felt for her. Then feeling the anger and ache she caused that followed from her absence. I remember the dreams of her holding me, telling me it’s the only option. But that is as far as it goes. After that, I was simply alone in the system that became my life. With strangers, I had no connection to, no love or feelings. I always wondered how different life would’ve been if she were still around, if she had never left me. Would it have been better or not? Who would I be? Answers that will never be answered. In the end, the only thing I know for sure is my name, not my surname but simply the name she tagged to my shirt, simply saying I was Katie.

  That’s right. My real name isn’t Catherine. It’s Katie. Only two people alive know that about me. Catherine came much later. Katie was not the name for a woman that would one day become Mrs. William Stern and my husband made sure everything fit how he wanted it to. Including giving me a proper name fitting his proper life.

  The next few pages I read are about my life with Laura. She was my saving grace in the system. She was a funny little thing. Spunky and loud. She was brazen, but in the long run, she was only that way to cover up how afraid she was on the inside.

  I loved Laura very much and still do. She became my family, my sister. Laura was the only bond I ever formed growing up. We had met in the system at a young age, then we both were sent away into different foster homes. Later, we were reconnected, when we ended up in the same foster home. Even though we were older, it was like no time had come between us at all. We even slept in the same bed, snuggling to each other for comfort and security, just as we had done when we were younger.

  That’s when our nightmare started. I had never been abused in my other foster homes before, but I had only been in two. However, Laura had been. She knew what was lurking behind our foster parent’s eyes. She warned me it would come, but I never understood until it happened. The wife started coming for us in the middle of the night, separating us while we kicked and screamed, holding onto each other for dear life. We never succeeded though and all it ever did was make things worse on us. It didn’t take long before we learned our lesson and just went willingly with her as she took us to her husband one at a time.

  Closing my eyes, I remember the pain and the screams that would follow. I never knew evil existed like that. I wipe my tears and flip to the next page. This page is probably the worst. I’m even considering tearing it out of the journal. But it’s my truth. It’s about the nights the wife started dragging me and Laura out together. At first, we thought it would be better because we had each other to lean on, but we were wrong. The things they had us do to them both and to each other was worse than anything we had ever done before. They had stripped us of our innocence and our ability to look at each other. No more innocent snuggles. Life from then on became strained between us. I could almost forgive the bastards for what they did to me personally, but not for what they did to me and Laura’s relationship.

  I’d like to tell you that our life being molested and abused was short lived, but I would be lying, and this is about the truth. We lived in those circumstances for years. At the age of fourteen, I became pregnant by my foster father. It had only been a few months since my menstrual cycle started when it stopped all together. The wife knew but kept it
to herself, telling me to keep my mouth shut. It wasn’t long after, I woke in a sweat, bleeding out, and crying in pain. Laura helped me through the miscarriage. She stayed by my side until I passed the baby. She even helped me get rid of it, so we didn’t have to go through what we knew would happen if he found out. My body did not want to cooperate though, I became ill with fever. Our foster mother tried to tend to me, but the fever wouldn’t go down. Laura argued with her relentlessly to take me to the doctor. Finally, the woman agreed but took me out of the city for help. She refused to run the risk of anyone she knew finding out. We were gone for days, leaving Laura to fend for herself with the monster.

  Upon our return, Laura wouldn’t even look at me. She was alone in her misery for the first time and I felt it was all my fault. I have no idea what he put her through for those days and she never told me.

  I remember the night she woke me, changing our lives forever.

  “Katie, Katie! Wake up.”

  “What?”

  “We need to leave. Come on get dressed, pack some clothes.”

  I jump up saying, “What are you talking about?”

  She lays her hand over my mouth, hushing me. “We need to leave tonight. Please Katie, I can’t do it anymore and I don’t want to leave you here. Me and you forever, that’s all we need. Okay?”

  She’s frantic, I see the fear in her eyes. The fear she always tries to hide is right here on display. I nod my head knowing I will never let her leave without me. I stand and pack what I can fit into our school bags and some other plastic bags Laura had been collecting. She even manages to have a bag with a few food items. When we’re done, we sneak out the window and make our escape. I’m terrified of the unknown, but I’m more terrified of the look Laura has on her face. No matter what, I’ll follow her always. She’s my only family.

  I slam the book closed, needing the time to cry and to recover from those memories. Life has never been kind but those were some of the worst memories. Not all but some.

  4

  Catherine

  Standing, I walk over to my table of pictures. In the back of all the larger photos, I have a smaller picture of my husband. Picking it up, I sit on the chair beside the table holding it, looking at it, remembering how handsome William really was and how in awe I was of him. I hold the picture to my chest not allowing myself to go there yet. Instead, I look back outside the window and remember my time living on the streets with Laura.

  To call it hard would be putting it mildly, but no matter how much I can complain about it, it was still the only time in my life I was truly ever free.

  We were so young and had no idea where to go or what to do. We were both so scared but tried to be brave, knowing we had no option but to make it work. We would walk during the day, staying together, never leaving the other behind and at night we would find a quiet spot to lay our heads. The first night, Laura opened her backpack and pulled out her rosary. With our hands both wrapped around it, we said our prayers. At least the best we could remember them, making the rest up as we went. This became our ritual every night.

  It wasn’t long before our food ran out and we grew hungry. We found ourselves digging through dumpsters behind restaurants, looking for food. You would be surprised how much food gets thrown out. I know you think you would never, but when you feel your stomach turning on itself out of starvation, you would do anything just for a grain of rice.

  We managed as well as we could, even finding bathrooms to wash ourselves in. One would stand by the door while the other would strip and bathe the best we could in the lavatory. We lived that way for a few months and then one day we met Billy.

  What can I say about Billy? He was a handsome boy, a couple of years older than us. He had a dark complexion, with a hard look about him. One thing was, he was sharp. Billy knew the streets and how to survive on them. He was exactly what we needed. Billy found us while we were sleeping. My eyes opened first that day, seeing him scrunched over, staring at us. I screamed out and Laura jumped, grabbing a piece of rebar we had found as our only weapon. Instead of fearing us, he laughed. He stood still as Laura swung, trying to hit him. He just laughed harder, grabbing it and forcing it out of her hand. We both grabbed for each other for dear life, fearing the worst, until Billy threw the rebar down and spoke. My memories take me back in time to that day.

  “I’m not going to hurt you. I saw you two sleeping here and thought you might need help.”

  Laura, being always the first to act, yells back, “We don’t need your kind of help, just leave us alone!”

  The boy’s face shows anger, but his words remain soft. “Really? Two girls living on the streets, eating out of a fucking dumpster and you need no help?”

  He turns to walk away yelling back, “Okay, have it your way!”

  Laura lets me go and runs after him while I follow behind, she yells out to him, “What kind of help?”

  He turns, eyeing her like I don’t exist. “I can show you how to get a hot meal. Maybe even a night or two in a warm bed. Your choice, but it would be better than spending every night on the filthy ground.”

  That’s all it took. From then on, we were all inseparable. Billy taught us to hustle and how to pickpocket. We were stealing from anyone who gave us the opportunity and in New Orleans, with all the tourist as easy prey, we did it often.

  A smile forms on my face, remembering the joy and excitement from the first time we had enough money to get a cheap motel room. We ordered pizza and for the first time in so long, we had a hot shower along with a hot meal. All thanks to Billy teaching us how to survive on the streets. Once we were all clean and our stomachs full, we all jumped up and down on the mattresses laughing and screaming like it was the best day we ever had. Sadly, it was. Something so simple as a bed, shower, and a sucky pizza will go down in my history as one of my best days ever.

  But then night fell. Sometime in the middle of the night I felt Laura’s arm lift from around me. She quietly slipped out of our bed and went into his. That night changed everything.

  Our dynamic as a duo was broken. They were now the new duo and I felt isolated. Even when we were back on the streets, they cuddled together leaving me out in the cold, alone. It wasn’t long before Billy had convinced Laura to turn tricks. It didn’t take long for her to convince me. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for her and our sisterhood. Again, you must remember, she was my only bond, my only family and the only love I’d ever had.

  As time went on, I could tell something wasn’t right about Laura. She was changing. I soon found out why. I started questioning why, with all the extra money we were making, we didn’t have enough to get another motel room or more food. I learned it was all because Laura and Billy were spending the money on drugs. I wanted no part of it. I refused. That was something I wasn’t willing to do. I knew I had to be the level headed one for when she would need me again. I just had to wait it out. And Laura never asked or offered me any, in some way it was like she was protecting me from it. She never even allowed herself or Billy to do it in front of me.

  One night, I came back to our designated spot in an alley to find it empty. I waited and waited but they never showed. I slept for the first time by myself, holding onto Laura’s rosary. For days they didn’t return, scaring me half to death, thinking that something had gone wrong. Laura wouldn’t just leave me. On the second night, I heard footsteps. Scared and alone, I pushed off the ground and prepared myself for whatever would come out of the shadows. That was the night I met Earl.

  With a scared, shaky voice, I shout out, lying through my teeth, “Don’t come any closer, I have a gun!”

  The sound of each step coming closer never falters. Out of the shadow, I see the outline of a large body then his face.

  His hands are on his hips, shaking his head back and forth like he’s disappointed. In a scolding deep voice, he says,

  “Child, you ain’t got no gun and even if you did, you probably wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

  Sti
ll scared and shaking, I yell out, “Please don’t come any closer!”

  He’s staring at me, trying to figure out what to say. “Listen here girl, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to make sure you’re okay. I haven’t seen your friends around lately.”

  “You know about my friends?”

  “Dumb girl, this is my alley. Where are they?”

  Still frightened, I answer with the truth. “I don’t know.”

  He eyes me some more then says, “Are you hungry?”

  I don’t answer, worried this is a trick.

  He says again, “I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t hurt children and I sure in the hell have no use for you. Look, if you’re hungry, I’m going to go back inside. You are more than welcome to come in. I have something hot to warm your belly.”

  With that, he turns away leaving me alone. I hesitate to think of how hungry I really am. Billy left with most of the money we had been making. Last night was the last of the little bit I had left. I start thinking, what’s the worst thing that could happen? He might expect sex, but I could give him that. Sex is just a means to an end.

  Grabbing my bag, I start walking to the front of the diner with the flashing sign saying Earl's. With my hand on the door handle, I see him watching me. I'm holding my bag tight to my body like it's my armor, when I go inside.

  “Come on girl, I ain’t got all night. My wife will want me home soon.”

  He walks to the back and returns with a bowl of gumbo. I can smell it from here. My feet start moving of their own accord towards one of the best smells ever. I climb on the bar stool and start eating as who I presume is Earl, starts cleaning his counters. He never says anything to me while I eat. Just goes around doing his business, closing up for the night. When he opens his register, my eyes go wide. Then he speaks without looking at me,