Shame: The Avengement Series, #4

By Caddy Rowland

The Avengement Series: Sometimes a person gets pushed too far.

Book Four: Shame (A Caddy Rowland psychological thriller and drama)

A sophomore girl. A senior guy. Homecoming.

 A sexy dress. An even sexier pair of heels.

A stupid friend. Drugs and alcohol. A damning video.

A jealous ex-girlfriend. Chance’s phone left unattended. Social media.

Things are about to go horribly wrong.

Karma really can be a bitch—especially when it scores a willing partner.

• Language: English
• Publisher: CFR Publishing
• Release date: Sep 29, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536539530

Caddy Rowland

The drama of humanity. We live, die, love, hate, win and lose in a never-ending variety of ways. Often those ways are heart-wrenching. Other times they are not. Why do people make the choices they do? Why do some abuse power? How do the powerless learn to survive? Why do a few dare to be different, while others conform—and why are so many disturbed by those who don't? These are the questions that have always haunted author Caddy Rowland. Those questions keep her pounding away at her keyboard, creating novels showcasing the sublime joy and bitter tragedy of being human. Caddy has always been a nonconformist. She likes to push the proverbial envelope when it comes to characterization and world building. Heroes have warts; villains have soft spots. Main characters don't always learn their lessons because all too often we don't, either. There isn't always a happy ending, but sometimes there is. Otherwise she'd be predictable. She writes for readers who like to think and feel; who like their stories to be raw, graphic, unpredictable, "real" and sometimes brutal. For readers who like their boundaries challenged; to be shown how rarely life decisions are truly black and white, but instead shades of grey. Think of a carnival midway with books instead of rides. She asks you make sure you're the minimum height if you plan on riding alone. You must also leave prejudices and inhibitions behind the entry gate. If you can’t, Rowland's reads might be a tad much for you. Don't worry. There are plenty of safer reads out there. Just step out of the line and find a more appropriate book for your reading enjoyment. No, Caddy Rowland's novels aren't for everyone. But then again, they just might be for you. Sign up for new book release information by copying and pasting this in your browser: http://eepurl.com/rfjaX

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Prologue

The shoes stiffened. This time, it wasn’t going to be so easy. There would be sorrow, and pain, and innocence lost. The bad guys might get theirs, but the end result was going to be sacrilege.

This shouldn’t happen. Not now, not ever. Some things should be off-limits no matter what kind of crazy chaotic emotions get involved. There should be a Great Protector. A being that made sure everything was always made right at the end.

But the shoes knew better.

As much as humans hope for a grand design, as much as they pray and wheedle and bargain, in the end what happens simply happens. Nobody home when you call. No R.S.V.P. No intervention.

Simply fate turning, turning, ever spinning. Making some winners and most losers.

The red pumps seemed to fade a bit in their brilliance.

No doubt about it.

This time, it wasn’t going to be so easy.

Those left standing might never be able to pick up the pieces.

I

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So can I wear them, Mom? Charlotte’s face glowed as she stroked the sexy, red shoes. Please? Can I wear them?

Sandra sighed. I don’t know. They’re not really appropriate for a girl your age. They’re too...well...

Sexy? Charlotte grinned up at her mother, brushing her hair out of her eyes. Her laughter sparkled in the warmth of the late autumn day, seeming to become a living thing.

Sandra resisted the urge to gather her daughter in her arms, holding her back from growing any further into adulthood. When had her daughter become a female who not only knew what sexy meant, but wanted to embrace the idea?

Yes. They’re too sexy.

But it’s homecoming, Mom! And you know the dress I bought is sexy. Everyone got a sexy dress. It’s what being young is all about!

Oh, honey. There’s so much more to life than being sexy. Please don’t tell me, in spite of our hard fight for equality, we females still base our self-worth on how sexy we are.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. Hardly. But, Mom, it’s a dance! I’m going with a boy! Girls are supposed to be sexy when they’re at a dance with a boy. Remember?

Do I remember? Oh, yes. Like it was yesterday, thought Sandra. Sexy black dress, Jake looking so fine in his tux. I remember. I also remember what an asshole he turned out to be. But who knew at the time?

Shaking off the dusty memories, Sandra replied, Sure, I remember. I went to homecoming every year from sophomore year on with your dad. Sandra did her best to keep her voice from sounding bitter.

You two were a couple for, like, forever, before you got done with school. It must be really cool to find true love like you and Dad.

Thankfully, Charlotte didn’t understand what the ensuing silence meant.

Sandra frowned slightly, worry lines becoming more prominent between her brows. They must be doing a good job of pretending, if their only child believed they were still in love. Unfortunately, true love had ended long ago. In fact, after only one year of marriage. She had been pregnant with Charlotte at the time.

First it had been Shannon. Next came Carrie. Then there was Silk—who the hell names their kid Silk—and after that she didn’t care to know. Her husband seemed to have an endless appetite when it came to fooling around with women.

Why hadn’t his weakness for females shown up in high school? She shook her head slightly. Maybe once they’d married he’d decided to make up for lost time. Whatever the reason, his Prince Charming mask had ripped and rotted long ago. Now he was simply the tomcat she stayed married to for the sake of their daughter.

Maybe staying was a mistake. After all, what was she teaching her daughter by staying? To accept whatever shit a man handed her and hold on tight, no matter how much it cost in self-respect?

At least Jake had managed to keep his philandering hidden from Charlotte—so far. Sandra often wondered what the repercussions where going to be when she found out. Because she would. There was no way Jake would skate through life always seeming the perfect daddy. Karma wouldn’t stand for it.

Personally, when it happened she wouldn’t be glad. Oh, it would serve Jake right, but Charlotte would be heartbroken. Plus, what would Charlotte think of her? They might both lose her respect that day. Ah, well. Losing respect was nothing compared to losing the belief that your father is invincible; in your corner.

Go ahead and wear them. Sandra’s voice sounded hollow, bouncing off the bedroom wall. Was it a sign of her giving up, turning life over to her daughter? After all, what excitement was left for her?

Mom! Really? Charlotte spun around. I can wear them?

You heard me right. Forcing a smile, Sandra handed the box to her daughter. Just practice walking in them for a few weeks before the dance. Otherwise you might break your neck. It takes skill to walk in high-heels—especially to walk sexy!

Grabbing the box, Charlotte stated, I’ll practice every day, starting now. Maybe you can give me some pointers.

There really aren’t pointers on how to walk in heels. You just have to learn. They’re an instrument of torture women have been drawn to since the first heels were cobbled, I’m sure. I think walking in heels is innate in us, even if they do ruin our feet and knees.

But they make our legs look great, Charlotte’s breathy voice crowed. Just look how my calves look in these bitches!

Charlotte!

Charlotte blushed. Sorry. But, Mom, they really are sexy b—

Bitches. I know. Why do you think I bought them?

Ewww. Too much information. You and Dad should’ve given up long ago.

Gee, thanks.

But Charlotte was no longer listening. She was too busy practicing.

Sandra, watching, wondered what her daughter would think if she knew her mom had given up being sexy long ago. Sometime after Silk. Maybe before.

Why had she even bought the shoes?

Easy. Sexy shoes aren’t just for seduction. They are also for self-affirmation. She’d bought them because they made her feel pretty. Feeling pretty wasn’t something her husband offered her, so she depended on herself for ego stroking.

When she’d purchased them she’d even considered doing some running around on her own. After all, why should Jake be the only one having fun? But in the end, she knew she simply wasn’t the type. She might be able to wear whore shoes, but acting the part with a total stranger just wasn’t in her genetic makeup.

So the pumps had sat in her closet for over a year. She had gotten them out a few times at first, wearing them while Jake was at work and Charlotte was at school. But soon enough she’d felt silly, parading around by herself in their house in four-inch heels with satin bows wearing yoga pants and some old T-shirt.

Ow! Charlotte’s cry brought her mother out of her reverie.

What happened?

I turned my heel. Yikes, that hurt!

Yeah. Be careful, remember?

Geez. Maybe I don’t want to wear these. I can just see myself falling over on the dancefloor and everyone laughing at me.

Suit yourself, but I’m sure many of the other girls will be nervous about their own shoe issues. You have plenty of time to get used to wearing them. She reached out, rubbing her daughter’s back. They look great on you, sweetie. You have killer legs.

Thanks, Mom! Charlotte’s grin made Sandra grin back.

You’re welcome. You did get those legs from me, after all.

Charlotte eyed her mom’s baggy yoga pants.

To her credit, she didn’t say anything that would ruin the moment.

II

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Laying back in the tub, Charlotte let the fragrant bubbles caress her skin. She still sometimes wondered if she’d imagined Chance asking her out the first day of school this year. Why would the coolest senior in high school ask her, a lowly sophomore, out?

But he had. Not only that, he’d asked her out every week since, and seemed to hang on every word she uttered. She closed her eyes, a faint smile on her face. He was so sexy! Chance’s spiked blond hair refused to stop curling, no matter what product he tried. He was constantly swearing about it, but she loved the way those curls played with his earlobes, and teased his forehead.

He was cool. A quirky maverick. Charlotte doubted if there was anything Chance couldn’t excel in, if he decided it interested him. He pulled great grades in science and math, yet hung out in art and drama classes. Chance also had a band, although he didn’t take playing too seriously. He said it was just for fun. In other words, he was everything a teenage girl wanted.

Chance was also good at kissing. She’d never kissed a boy before Chance. She and a girlfriend had experimented on each other the year before, trying to figure out what the excitement was about having another person’s tongue in your mouth.

Until Chance, she hadn’t found out.

But now she knew. God, when Chance kissed her the whole world quit making sense. A few dates ago she’d let him fondle her breasts, even unclasp her bra so he could make his way around them easier. The hot, male smell wafting off him whenever he did so made her so wet she was afraid it would show on her jeans.

Then, last week, she’d let him slide his fingers inside her panties. When he’d connected with her sweet spot her hips had jerked like crazy. Man, it felt so good! Then he slid his fingers out and—oh my God—sucked her wetness off them. His eyes never left hers the whole time.

When he’d moved to unzip his own jeans, she’d ignored the warning going off in her head. She wasn’t on the pill, but they weren’t going all the way. Just fooling around, right?

Then his cock had popped out. Reality was harsh, and she suddenly felt in over her head. There was no way that big thing was going inside her. No problem not being on the pill.

He took her home shortly after.

Now, two nights ago, somehow he’d talked her into letting him ride that big thing between her thighs without penetration. His heavy breathing had let her know he was nowhere to be found in his car. Instead, he had been in his own world of excitement, in a way only an eighteen-year-old male can experience.

He’d felt too heavy on her, but when she’d tried to shift, he’d held his ground. He’d pushing against her, making himself move between her thighs.

Chance?  She’d paused. Chance, you’re too heavy!

He’d mumbled something, shifting his hips slightly, drool running out of one corner of his mouth. Then he’d kissed her, and the extra weight didn’t matter.

Soon enough she’d felt a wetness on her thighs, pooling toward the seat and her ass. Once again, he’d wet his fingers, but this time he’d stuck his fingers in her mouth instead of his.

Clean them off. His hoarse voice had been a command she’d obeyed without thinking, noting his eyes were so intense he looked as though he’d blow up any moment. Is this what sex did to a guy?

The taste had been strange. She hadn’t really liked it, but it was obvious Chance got off on her licking him clean. Her brown eyes had stared into his blue ones as she sucked and licked at the fingers he’d jammed into her mouth.

A few minutes later, he’d asked, Do you want to take it in your mouth?

She’d glanced down at his softening cock. Um, no. Not really.

Jesus, Charlotte! Sometimes you act just like a kid. The disgust in his voice had pricked her heart. Is that what he thought of her? She was a kid?

I...well, I’m only fourteen.

Abruptly, he’d sat up. Big fucking deal. Plenty of chicks your age give head. They’ve been doing it since probably age twelve. He’d let out a frustrated hiss. If you want to keep me you need to woman up.

Panic had filled her mind. Was Chance going to dump her? Over something as ridiculous as sucking his cock?

I’m nervous, that’s all.

Don’t be nervous. It’s easy. Trust me, all you have to do is put it in your mouth. I’ll take care of the rest.

But you just—

Fuck! It doesn’t matter what I just did. I’m a teenage boy, Charlotte! I always ready for action. Don’t you know anything?

Yeah. I guess so. I mean, I don’t want you unhappy.

Then get your mouth down here and make me happy. I think I might love you, but even that won’t keep me if you don’t give me the satisfaction I need. Any other girl at school sure would.

That had sealed the deal because Charlotte knew he was probably right. Oh, maybe not every girl, but just about any girl who mattered. All the cool girls gave head. She’d heard them whispering about it.

Okay. Come here, she’d said, as she leaned forward to accept him.

Before she’d known it, her mouth was filled with the same wetness her thighs had been several moments ago.

But that time, Chance seemed a hell of a lot more pleased.

She sat up, chilled from the cooling water. How much time had passed while she daydreamed about Chance?

Mom? What time is it?

Six.

Chance would be picking her up in only an hour. She still had to apply her make-up and fix her hair. Quickly drying off, she donned a light robe and laid out her make-up. She’d been wearing it since the 7th grade, so she knew how to apply it skillfully.

Watching herself carefully in the mirror, she began to make up her face. Good thing her hands didn’t shake, even though she was excited about the night. Not many sophomore girls got asked to homecoming. It was only her and three other lucky girls.

But none of the other three had the thrill of going to the dance with Chance. She knew everyone would be looking at her, and many would be jealous. Especially the juniors and seniors. They’d wonder why he’d picked her, when so many of them were just as pretty, and probably a lot more experienced.

But maybe that was why. Maybe Chance wanted someone he knew was only his. Someone he could say he’d taken first and treasured. She sure hoped so. Because if Chance wanted, she was going to let him go all the way tonight.

She’d even considered going on the pill, but then she’d chickened out. Chance would have a condom. Guys like Chance were always prepared.

You look pretty, honey. Sandra smiled at her daughter, her eyes tender and teary. So grown up!

Thanks, Mom. She hesitated. Can you help me with my hair?

Of course. Taking the curling iron from her daughter’s hand, Sandra began to fix Charlotte’s hair. She knew exactly how Charlotte wanted it, as the two of them had poured over hair magazines for the last few weeks.

Charlotte forced herself to remain patient. She didn’t really need her mother’s help, but she knew how much the woman wanted to be asked. She was a decent mom. Not like some of the moms her friends had to endure. The least she could do was make her feel included in this rite of passage.

Are you excited, sweetie? Her mom smiled at Charlotte in the mirror. I guess that’s a silly thing to say. Of course you’re excited.

Charlotte giggled self-consciously. I’m nervous. What if I stumble, or say something stupid? She swallowed hard. I’ll be the youngest one there.

You’ll be fine. You look great, and Chance will be proud you’re his date. Just remember not to drink beer or anything with alcohol. I’m not so old I don’t remember what goes on at homecoming with some people.

Chance isn’t like that.

If we thought he was you wouldn’t be going out with him. Still, pressure to fit in can make a person want to do foolish things.

I’ll be good, Mom, I promise. Charlotte felt a pang of guilt, knowing she hoped her and Chance would go all the way that night.

As Sandra finished up on Charlotte’s hair, she wondered if she should add an additional warning about drugs. Probably not. She and Jake had talked to her so many times about drugs there was nothing left to say. Ultimately, the choice was in Charlotte’s hands. They could inform and lecture, but the decision would be hers.

Giving Charlotte’s head a light pat, Sandra said, There. What do you think?

Charlotte gazed in the mirror. She looked beautiful. Much older than her fourteen years. The make-up, dress, and heels made sure of that.

I think my hair will slay. Thanks, Mom!

Sure. Thanks for letting me help.

Of course.

Feeling a rush of love, Charlotte grabbed her mom and hugged her.

Careful, honey, Sandra laughed. You don’t want to ruin all my hard work.

True. I love you, Mommy.

And I love you. Now go show your father how you’ve transformed. Although I’m suddenly wondering if he’ll let you out the door in that outfit tonight.

Mom!

Just kidding. He’s been warned to expect a glamour girl.

Her laughter tinkling, Charlotte made her way out to the family room. She was much more comfortable in the red stiletto heels now, thanks to lots of practicing.

When she entered the room, her father peered up at her over the top of the paper. She figured he was probably the last man on earth to get his news somewhere other than the internet.

A quick look of surprise and uncertainty flashed across his face, quickly replaced with an encouraging smile. As he whistled softly, he stated, Wow. You can’t possibly be my little girl. You’re stunning, Charlotte. Absolutely stunning.

She felt heat come to her cheeks as she replied, Thank you, Daddy.

Make sure he treats you like a lady, he continued. After all, you’re only fourteen. We shouldn’t even be letting you date until you’re older.

Daddy! Chance isn’t like that.

"Yeah. Well, I was young