Fuensalida

Chapter 8

Celeste looked at herself in the mirror at the shoe store, checking out the black ankle boots with the pink bow on the front and the four inch platform that elevated her short stature further up. She grinned at herself like a school girl, which she very much was, twisting this way and that in them. They hardly matched the pink dress with the small little ash silver bow on the sleeves, complete innocence written all over the dress, but she longed for these shoes the way a starved person longed to eat. Her mother would never let her have something so absolutely trendy, she was always supposed to dress proper, outdated.

She walked away from the mirror and slipped to sit back down, to remove the shoes. She glanced up at the clock on the wall that read just a little after ten. She had been moving around the store since they opened at nine. She wondered how much her mother and Chris were missing her right now, or if they had even noticed yet. She snarled a bit at that thought and pulled the shoe off of her foot angrily.

He had come into her room sometime around eight. She was huddled under the blankets, feigning an upset stomach. He placed breakfast on the stand for her, fruit and yogurt with a glass of orange juice, and a newspaper. He had tried to feel her forehead and she was so thrown off by the gesture she smacked at his hand and went further under the blanket, complaining it was his fault her stomach was in knots. As was usual when she became that angry he backed down, leaving everything behind. He told her they would be leaving soon and that he would be back for her then. When the door closed behind him she hurried out of the bed, already dressed, ate quickly, enjoying something that was not pure grease first thing in the morning, and flipping through the newspaper for any signs of news of their kidnapping. She was frustrated when there was nothing, but she should have known that no one would care about a missing person from Illinois in Kentucky. At least not yet.

She tossed her garbage and hurriedly ran out of the hotel and towards the small shopping area she had seen last night as they had pulled in. Her first stop, as was her nature, was the bookstore. After browsing the bookstore for fifteen minutes she realized that was a mistake, that was the first place they would look for her. Next she bounded over to a men’s clothing store and told the clerk she was looking for something for her boyfriend. He was so persistent and happy to help her, mostly because of her ample cleavage, though she did not notice she only thought he was friendly, she had to tell him she was undecided and would be back later.

She had kept walking around until she found the shoes, spotting them in the window of the store. She had nearly drooled on the outside window before rushing in, needing to try them on. Now she was frustrated she had because they had looked great and she was unable to buy them.

Pulling off the second shoe and squirming back into the white heels from yesterday, she ignored the shadow over her shoulder. She believed it to just be a store clerk and she hated to lie to another person and tell them that she just did not like the way they looked on her, especially after practically jumping happily in front of the mirror only a few moments ago.

A hand fell on her shoulder and she jerk away, ready to snap at someone for touching her when she noticed Chris’s angry face looming over hers. Her mouth fell open in surprise, surprise he snuck up on her so easily, and found her. She stood up quickly, feeling suddenly short again, her face paler than normal.

“This isn’t where you are supposed to be,” he snapped, the anger in his tone more evident than she had heard it since that day. Even then it was never directed at her, not like this.

She sputtered still. She could not find any words. Now she felt foolish and did not want to tell him, “I was angry, so I thought I would make you think I was missing.” She had a bad feeling about that statement and in the end she only ended up staring up at him a bit longer.

“Can I help you, Sir?” the sales clerk asked, stepping up politely, almost sensing the static of trouble rustling through the air.

“Just coming to see what my daughter has picked out,” Chris lied easily. Celeste had a strong desire to suddenly hide the shoes that his eyes had alighted on and were staring down at.

The sales clerk clapped her hands together and smiled, “You seem far too young to have a daughter her age,” she told him, flattering him first before she announced how many shoes Celeste had drooled over besides these ones, that she had worn around the store to look at others. The woman was seeing dollar signs and Celeste could not see why since Chris was dressed as casually as he could be in a white T-shirt and a pair of jeans with a hole in the knee.

“Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere,” he told the sales clerk, ignoring her completely as he stared down at the shoes.

The sales clerk did not look a bit put off by his flippant attitude. “The shoes she really seemed to like are normally one-hundred and twenty dollars,” the woman said in her southern drawl that sounded like a practiced accent. Something made to give her the tang of the south and the sweetness of a cherry pie when she was really all about the sale. At Chris’s look she smiled a bit wider. “They are on sale, fifty percent off, sixty dollars right now.”

Chris looked back at Celeste, watching her. She still said nothing, not knowing what to say. She wanted to plead with him like a daughter would beg her dad, but hated that lie. It twisted knots in her stomach that had her shuddering.

“We’ll take them,” Chris finally stated. The sales clerk could not have looked happier, and Celeste could not have looked more shocked. “Anything else you found, princess, that you wanted?”

Celeste had a feeling she would be paying for it later. The way he dragged out the word princess made her wince, and still she dragged him around the store and pointed out a few more pairs of shoes she had found, growing more animated as they went around the stores. She walked out with six pairs of shoes, and Chris footing the bill and then carrying the bags for her. She was happy, until they walked outside. Now he could berate her and scream.

He did not. He switched the bags to one hand and reached back to grip her hand, walking with her beside him. She felt her heart stutter walking hand in hand with him. She hated herself for it, but she was completely focused on their interlocked hands.

“Your mother is in the clothing store,” he explained to her. “I had a feeling you had come out this way, I left her there picking out clothes.”

“Please don’t let her pick out my clothes,” Celeste begged of him, rushing a bit to keep in step with him the closer they came to the store. “She’ll keep dressing me like this.” She made a gesture to the pink sundress and Chris smirked.

“You have no idea what that dress does to you, do you?” Chris asked, leading her into the store.

Celeste pouted. “It makes me look like a little girl.”

Chris could not help but snort. He leaned down and put his lips against her ear. “It makes men take notice of your breasts, of the perfect sweet girl in a dress a little too tight where her curves should not be so ample.” He kissed her ear, watching her blush quietly, then added, “and it makes me want to fuck you again until you are begging me to let you cum.” He stood up straighter and walked in front of her, shoe bags still in hand, and went to greet Cassie, Celeste following meekly behind, a little damper down between her legs.

“Celeste,” Cassie hissed as she came closer, then threw her arms around her daughter, hugging her tight. “I was so worried about you. Where did you go?”

“Looks like she wanted shoes.” Chris held up the bag and then looked down at the clothes in Cassie’s arms. “Anything you picked out for Celeste, put back, she’s going to pick out her own clothes.”

Cassie pulled back a bit, glancing at Chris. “She’ll dress just like every other teen…”

Chris shrugged. “Which is exactly what we need her to do,” he pointed out. “Let the girl pick out her trashy clothing and have fun with it. If it’s really so awful you can veto it.”

Celeste happily hurried away from them both to go scouring the store which had a large variety of clothing. Cassie sighed and put back what she had picked out for Celeste, but not for herself. This was still below her usual standards of clothing, but she admitted she needed something to wear besides what Chris had bought for them. Where the one bra and few pairs of panties had fit, the jeans perfect around her hips, she was not a denim person usually.

Cassie kept going through clothes, resisting the urge to pick up things for Celeste, wanting to be a good mother to her and knowing very well that her time for that has passed. She helped a man rape her daughter, and ignored it when he left to go check on her and returned with a torn shirt and a smug look on his face. She could smell the stench of sex all over him and he never even bothered washing it away. He crawled into bed and passed out beside her, practically ignoring her. For a moment she had cursed him, wondering why had had not just stayed with her, then realized she was jealous of a girl who was being raped by this man. Her eyes welled up thinking of it.

Then jealousy kicked in harder when she watched Celeste slip into a dressing room and then Chris join her a few moments later.

Celeste back into the corner, wrapping her arms around her near naked body. Chris shot her a lascivious grin, taking in her generous frame and wanting to give it to her right there. Wanted to hear her fight to keep quiet as he slipped in and out of her, to take her from behind so they could both watch themselves in the dressing room mirror and she could see exactly what she looked like on the cusp of an orgasm.

“You can’t be in here,” she said, trying to keep her arms over her nearly exposed body.

That had him chuckling. “Obviously, I can.” He moved quickly, gripping her arms and forcing them down to her sides, his lips moving over hers, catching them mid-yelp. As was typical of her, she did not fight the kiss, she melted into it. She let their lips move together, accepted his tongue when it pushed into her mouth. She moaned in her throat, nearly putty in his hands. He kept his hands tight on her arms, holding her tightly against the wall. He pulled away, breathless, but his whole demeanor had changed. He no longer looked like the lascivious man who had wanted her, and even though his cock was throbbing and hot pushing against his jeans, pushed against her thigh, he was bristling with anger. “The next time you try a disappearing act on me,” he snarled, gripping her tighter until she was wincing, “I disappear with your mother and you never see her again. And it works both ways.” The threat was more than implied as his fingers moved away from her delicate skin, angry red welts left in their place.

He stepped away from her and glanced around the dressing room at the clothes she had hanging there. He looked at one skirt and smirked. “I dare you to actually wear that,” and he walked out of the dressing room. A sales representative gave him wide eyes and he nearly laughed. “That’s my daughter, I was helping her with a zipper.” She looked relieved as he stalked off towards Cassie and handed her a pile of money. “I’m going outside,” he snapped. “I’ll be waiting for you both. Hurry, we need to get back on the road.”

He stood outside crowd watching. He felt a bit shaken, remembering the feel of his fingers gripping her so tightly. She had no idea how much she had scared him. In return, he had no idea how much she had frightened him. While she had refused to runaway when her mom had suggested it, she had been afraid of what he would do to her mother in return. Without ever knowing it, he had confirmed her fear.

Mother and daughter stepped out of the store a few minutes later, Celeste reaching out for the shoe bag in his hand and sitting on the bench. He tried hard not to look down at her, she had taken his dare. On her body she was dressed in a black T-shirt with pinks, blues, and purples for letters stating “It’s All About Me,” and a black skirt so short that sitting with her legs closed still made it nearly indecent. She was quickly changing out of her white shoes and into the black ones she had coveted happily.

“Are we ready to go?” he asked, taking a few of the bags from Cassie. Cassie was looking down at her daughter, having watched her go from happy, to pale and upset, to looking nearly normal again. Whatever Chris had said or done had rattled her and she was being unusually quiet.

“Can we make one more stop?” Celeste asked, not looking up at him. He started to sigh and she held her hand up. “I just want a couple of books for the car ride.”

Cassie nodded, trying to appease them both. “I could go for a magazine or two,” she added, “it would keep us quiet while you drove.”

Chris shrugged, but Celeste didn’t see it. He leaned down and picked up the shoe box she had filled with her other shoes and stood up, gripping Celeste’s elbow to help her to her feet. “Are you going to be able to walk in those?”

“I’ll do just fine,” she assured him. He kept his hand on her elbow the whole time she wobbled around the store.