She paused and took a few breaths before she continued. “A drunk driver, they said. He ran a red light. I remember my parents like it was yesterday. But Eddie was too small. He would cry sometimes at night because he couldn’t remember what our mother looked like. The first foster family we were placed with was nice to us, but then our foster dad lost his job, and they couldn’t afford to keep us. Eddie was heartbroken, but Social Services just took us away.”
She sighed. “They wanted to split us up at first, because they thought it was easier to place just one of us, but I wouldn’t let go of Eddie. I screamed at everybody who came close to us.”
Amaury brushed his knuckles over her cheek, wanting to comfort her.
“I was twelve when we were sent to another family. I was big for my age and I already had boobs. And that was a problem.”
Amaury’s stomach twisted. He didn’t like where the story was going.
“One day I caught my foster father watching me when I got dressed. He played it down, but I knew that look he had. At first I didn’t say anything because my foster mother was so nice. Eddie really liked it there, and he had friends at school. I didn’t want him to have to move again. But it happened again and again. Until I couldn’t stand it anymore.”
Nina looked at him with big eyes. “I found photos. Not just of me, but also of other girls. The perv was taking photos of us—naked, in the shower or the bath, or when we were getting dressed. He had spy holes all over the house.”
“Oh, my God. What did you do?” Amaury’s hands balled into fists. He knew exactly where he wanted those fists to land.
“I started barricading my door, but my foster mother got suspicious. By the time I was fourteen I wore clothes that would disguise my figure, so he wouldn’t look at me anymore, but he didn’t stop. Then one day I’d forgotten to lock my door and he came in. He touched me, but I kicked him. He was so mad. I knew he would come back that night and hurt me. I picked Eddie up from school and told him we were going camping.”
Amaury planted a soft kiss on her hair. Why couldn’t he have been there to help her when she needed him? “Chérie.” It was all he could whisper to her.
“Social Services found us three days later, but in the meantime I’d already sent some of the photos to my foster mother, anonymously of course. When we got back, I saw she’d been crying. A week later Social Services came and picked us up again. She chose her husband over us. She stayed with him, with that perv. And she threw me and Eddie out. How could she choose him over us? We were good kids. He was a bad man.”
Nina choked back the tears. “They blamed me. Eddie did too. He didn’t understand. He was only eleven. They kept us at the orphanage for a while, and I wish we’d stayed there. But Eddie was a cute kid and popular, so they found us another family. After the last one, I didn’t think it could get any worse.”
Amaury felt anger built up inside him.
“Nina, you don’t have to tell me any more. I know this is painful for you. I understand.”
She shook her head. “No, I have to tell you. I’ve done something very bad. And you should know.”
Amaury kissed her lips softly. “Whatever you’ve done, I’m sure it was warranted.”
“I stabbed a man, and if I’d had the courage I would have cut his dick off.”
He winced, his body instinctively jerking at the image she projected. His jaw dropped open, and all he could do was stare at her.
“Yes, I took a knife and almost castrated my third foster father. He came to my room one night and raped me. I knew nobody would believe me if I reported it—he was an upstanding citizen, well respected in town. I knew he’d do it again. But I was prepared the next time.”
Amaury listened with bated breath.
“When he touched me again with his filthy hands, I reached for the knife underneath my pillow and stabbed him. There was so much blood. Only my cowardice saved me from actually cutting his dick off. Instead, I just twisted the knife in his stomach. He screamed, and my foster mother came running just as I’d thrown him off me. I threatened her too. And then I played back the recording I’d made on my little hand-held tape recorder. I always used it in school to tape my teachers, but I kept it close-by because I knew I would need it as evidence one day. On the recording my foster mother could hear what he’d been trying to do to me.
“I made sure she realized that I’d destroy them and their precious reputation if either one of them ever touched me or Eddie again. And I had the proof to make it happen.”