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BooksbyJamesWNelson
Amazon
Category:
Action/Thriller
Type: Fiction
Pages: 154
Copyright: 2015
ISBN-13: 9781311238306
Price: $2.99 (eBook)
Emma is graduated with degrees in social work and criminal justice, working toward a black belt in Taekwondo, and has partnered with a young lady attorney. They will specialize in helping victims of human trafficking.
(A young woman “Little” says “No!” to the sorority’s brutal initiation rites, starts to leave, would have been stopped and forced, but her big sister “Big” has a change of heart and comes to her rescue.)
Emma, at 22, graduates from college with degrees in social work and criminal justice, will work toward earning her black belt in Taekwondo, and she and Jacey Wendell, attorney, will become partners with a specialty of helping human trafficking victims.
In Book 5 we meet Arianna, the angry. One year ago she experienced the sorority initiation rituals and has been ‘angry’ ever since, and practically salivates thinking of what she will do to her new little sister pledge. It was done to her so it’s only fair she get to do it to someone else—right?
We also meet Brandi, the innocent, just out of high school where she was president of her class, editor at her school newspaper, and graduated with a 3.9 grade average. Even though small in size, she had played soccer, excelled as shortstop in softball and led the varsity volleyball team to a district championship. She is ready to move forward in her life.
And so the cycle continues….
Excerpt
Arianna, the Angry
The fall quarter was about to begin. Arianna didn’t have her own car so needed a ride. She looked over at the driver, one of her classmates from high school who had gone the quick marriage route rather than further education, “You can turn left up here at Fulton Drive, Noelle, and that will take us straight into Evanswright.”
Noelle glanced and nodded, but did not smile.
“My sorority is on the street next door, so we won’t actually enter the campus.”
Again Noelle glanced and nodded, and, again, no smile. Other than ‘yeses’ and ‘no’s’ from both of them there had been very little conversation. Luckily the trip took only an hour.
They had never been best friends, mainly just classmates out of necessity: in the same grade since elementary. Other classmates and friends had left their medium-sized town for wider horizons, or just plain weren’t available. Family? That would have been an option but her dad was on one of his long business trips, her mother had neglected ever learning to drive, and she had no siblings, so Noelle became the only option.
At Fulton Drive they turned left. Arianna continued giving directions until, “Right there, Noelle, at that big, light brown house.”
The street had a few parked cars but a space appeared at the next house, which would mean a hike of about 150 feet. Noelle stopped, left the engine running, and stayed behind the wheel. Arianna jumped out, opened the back door, removed two suitcases, a folding clothing bag, her laptop case, a gym bag, and placed them onto the grassy boulevard, then opened the front door again and held out two twenties, “Thanks for the ride, Noelle.”
Noelle shook her head negatively, “You don’t have to pay me, Arianna.” She hesitated, “I do admire you for going on to college, you know.” She sent a quick smile, “Good luck.”
Arianna stepped back and closed the door, then watched as Noelle pulled away and looked back. They both waved.
So that was it. She turned toward the big brown house with the funny Greek letters. She had returned to the scene of the crime.
****
First Arianna carried everything to the sidewalk leading to the house, then carried everything to the front door.
Nobody met her there. Once inside, nobody offered to help carry her belongings. Nobody even said, “Hi!” No acknowledgement; she could as well have walked into a building she had never been before. Strange, she had heard a sorority was not like this. But maybe it’s just this one. She had visited other sorority houses, knew other sorority girls…all friendly. So maybe it really was just this one.
As she started down the hall, her mind snapped back to that day—no! She wouldn’t go there! Bad enough to have re-lived it during the rest of the following school year, and how many times during her summer break. There had been no warning, nothing to suggest the initiation rites would be as bad as they were, and now, the only way she could feel good about it—about anything—was the certain knowledge that she would get to do the same—or worse—definitely worse!—to the new freshmen pledges.
It didn’t make her happy to think that way, to look forward to embarrassing and humiliating and abusing—Yes! Actually abusing!—the new girls who had no idea what was coming. And how could they know? Most were fresh out of high school. Sure they had four years earlier experienced high school initiations, but what a joke they were! In comparison about the same as an eagle coming down on a helpless lamb. Some maybe had begun their collegiate career at a smaller junior college, which didn’t allow sororities….
How lucky those schools, and the students who went there. As she entered her room and dropped her first load, she laughed briefly to herself. This house was cold, very little humanity there. The prior year she had seen visitors—important visitors, whatever that meant—treated with utmost kindness and finesse. But for the women who lived there. Almost nothing. Rarely even greetings. On the way in she had seen two familiar, returned, sisters—Ha! Sisters!
What a misuse of a good word. There was no sisterhood in this house. All a sham!
When the new pledges got there, and she got to beat some fresh ass, she might just quit the sorority, even quit the campus—Whatever!
She would see. Luckily she had met a couple girls who lived in the regular dorms. After she was moved back in she might go see if she could find them, for certain Chelsea, her best friend on the campus. If nothing else she would just go plop at the Student Union. Anything would be better than wasting her time here, among coldness.
2
Brandi, the Innocent
Brandi stepped in the stirrup, hoisted her slim frame into the saddle, and as she settled herself leaned forward and patted her horse’s neck, “Ready for a good run, Palouse?”
Palouse nickered softly and shook her head, then grabbed a mouthful of the green grass growing by the corral fence.
She tightened her legs and gently slapped the horse’s right rump. Palouse moved quickly into a slow trot as they left the more-confined area of the corral by the barn. Brandi tightened her legs a little more and clicked her tongue, things she did automatically, then slapped the rump a little harder. In another two seconds they were galloping into the spacious Wyoming pasture.
She sat easily and relaxed in the saddle, and gave her horse its head, and let her body move with her horse’s movements. Her hat blew off but the drawstring prevented it from going too far, just to her back. She left it hanging there and let the wind have its way with her hair, past shoulder length and colored like the shades of the light-brown-gold of the good earth.
In moments they reached the far end of the home pasture. Palouse knew about fences so began slowing on her own, and turned about ten feet from the barbed wire. Brandi tightened her legs again and held back firmly on the reins, which signaled Palouse to begin moving into a prancing type of walk, not exactly a comfortable ride but something the two of them had been practicing for the past year.
Her plan was to enter her gorgeous Leopard Pattern Appaloosa, in the historic Jackson Hole Rodeo. She didn’t know if they held events like that or just bucking horses and calf roping. Sometime between then and next summer she would find out. She felt she would rather participate in a rodeo than a horse show, and her brothers likely would be more positive about watching her. Her mother and dad she had no doubts about. They always encouraged her on whatever she did and wanted, but her brothers would be different.
Call her crazy but she loved her brothers and wanted her brothers to love her too. She knew they loved her but she wanted them to like and appreciate what she did too.
President of her high school senior class, editor at her school newspaper, she had graduated with a 3.9 average. Even though small in size, she had played soccer, excelled as shortstop in softball and led the varsity volleyball team to a district championship. She was ready to move forward in her life. Her goals in college were a major in education, a minor in health care, and to join a sorority that did good things for the betterment of the world.
She had helped with ranch work all her life from mowing and raking alfalfa hay, raising mouth-watering tomatoes, to repairing barbed wire fences. During high school years, in order to participate more in extracurricular activities, she had spent a little less time on ranch chores, but during the past summer and early autumn she had worked closely with her dad, her favorite man in the whole world.
A fenced pond of about four hundred square feet in size—but round—had piqued her interest almost from the beginning. At the tender age of seven she had found it, and then spent dozens of hours visiting. The water had a distinct aroma, in a word unpleasant, at least to the more civilized world. In fact her brothers said the water stunk. She didn’t agree. According to her the smell was bittersweet, maybe leaning more toward bitter, than sweet, but she liked it. She liked the frogs and salamanders, the snakes, the cattails, the twenty-foot-tall willow trees, and the occasional ducks.
One day she had caught a glimpse of a large, bluish bird, and felt sure it had landed in the vicinity of her pond. Yes, it was her pond. Through her loving brothers her dad had discovered her love for that pond and had given it to her for her ninth birthday. Her dad even installed a sign: “Brandi’s Pond.” As for that big bluish bird, she slipped as close to the pond as she could get, then went to her knees, then to her stomach, and soon was rewarded with a full sighting of that big bluish bird, and stayed to watch for a half hour as the bird waded in the shallow water and dispatched two frogs, then, finally launched into the air again and bent its long neck back upon itself.
She knew about watching wildlife closely, and that bent neck soon led her to the Great Blue Heron. Another large bluish bird, the Sandhill Crane, she discovered, stretched its neck out straight in flight, so she was certain and proud of her identification. She liked nature so much that she sometimes couldn’t understand for certain why she had picked education and health care for college goals. Her ultimate goal was to teach kindergartners, at least to start, and knew with the open and hungry little minds of kindergartners she could share her love of nature.
She relaxed the reins, clicked her tongue and gently slapped Palouse’s rump. The horse knew she was going home and reached a full gallop quickly. Again she gave the horse her head and just enjoyed the ride, and wondered if she could truly be away from the ranch for the next six or more months.
She would get to the campus, get her classes organized, get everything paid for, and get her sorority joined. In contact with the sorority for a few weeks, she was looking forward to meeting the women living there. She felt a little uncertain about the mention of the initiation rites, but…well, how bad could they be? She had heard about some hazing getting a bit out-of-control—seemed she had even read about the death of a band member—but certainly a sorority initiation wouldn’t get out-of-control. Even so, she had not mentioned the initiation to her parents, especially not to her dad, who wasn’t that thrilled about her going to a distant university anyway when the local smaller college was right there close by.
Instead, she had decided going completely out-of-state was best. She needed to meet and explore the wide, wide, world, at least get started in that adventure. Yes, it was time to leave home, but sometimes the absolute idea of leaving the ranch—even temporarily—left her a bit depressed.
At the corral, Palouse stopped where she always stopped to get unsaddled. Brandi sometimes marveled at the horse’s horse sense. She dismounted and soon had her dear friend free again. Palouse didn’t leave, so Brandi hoisted the saddle and reins just onto the corral boards, then moved up beside her and put her arms around the neck, “I’ll be leaving tomorrow, sweetie. And I won’t be back for quite a while.”
Palouse lowered her head, leaned lightly against her mistress, and rattled her lips. Brandi of course knew her riding companion could not understand her words, but she felt Palouse did sense that something soon would change. She pulled her hugging arms back, then rubbed the neck, scratched behind both ears, “Okay, baby, I need to leave you now, and tomorrow, just before I leave, I’ll come back and say ‘goodbye,’ okay…?” Palouse pushed her head against her once more, then straightened up and rattled the lips again, a little louder, then stepped away and headed for the big bale of wild hay that was always available there in the corral. She watched her go, felt one more ping in her heart, moved her saddle to its permanent storage, climbed the fence and headed toward the house for more last minute packing. She looked forward to a short night and probably not a lot of sleep.
****
Dressed and ready to leave for her first major step into the big world, Brandi approached her horse, “Hey, Palouse!”
From about fifty feet away, Palouse perked her ears, rattled her lips, backed away from the giant bale of wild hay, turned and trotted to greet her mistress.
When the horse arrived, she put her left hand under its jaws and massaged the soft nose and side of its face, “Are you going to miss me, sweetie?”
Palouse blew and gently shook her head, in which direction Brandi wasn’t sure, so decided the answer was ‘yes.’
She ached to crawl over the fence and go for one more ride before being gone for months, but she didn’t. She knew she had to get to school, get moved in, signed up for her classes, and approach the sorority house she wanted to join. They did good things, she knew, but hadn’t yet read as much as she wanted of the booklet they sent, and still sometimes wondered about the initiation rites, which they hadn’t been too clear about.
The sorority booklet waited in her backpack, but she doubted she would read more during her last hours with her dad. He wouldn’t expect her to talk constantly for those hours, although she knew that he knew she was capable of it, at least when she was younger and got to spend time with her dad without her brothers being around. But even if they didn’t talk during the ride, just being together would be quality time with the man she adored above all others. If she spent it reading it wouldn’t be.
“You about ready to go, Brando?” her dad called.
‘Brando,’ her dad’s pet name for her.
“Yep!”
Coming up with a nickname for Brandi had not been easy. “The boys have nicknames so Brandi has to have one,” her dad had said. She didn’t exactly hear him say it. At the time, she was too young to understand most adult chatter, but was old enough to start responding to a nickname. Later, her mom told her, that her dear father had finally gone online and found ‘Brando.’ When she was old enough to understand he told her she was named after the famous late actor, ‘Marlon Brando,’ who starred in several movies. After that, whenever there was time, she and her dad would watch one of Brando’s movies. She liked ‘The Godfather’ but her favorites were the older westerns, ‘One-eyed Jacks’ and especially, ‘The Appaloosa.’
In memory of some of her best times with her dad—usually just the two of them—she smiled, gave one more pat to Palouse, then turned and started away, “Yep, I’m ready, Dad.”
In truth she wasn’t ready. She’d rather stay right there at the ranch, learn the business, and just spend the rest of her days at the central Wyoming ranch in sight of the Teton Mountains. But her brothers had the same idea, and there was just so much land and resources available.
So she would go to school, learn her chosen profession, and maybe someday could come back to live. Years away, for certain, but a goal to reach for. Halfway to the car she stopped and looked back at her beautiful horse, the black mane and tail and shades of gray all over, with darker gray spots almost everywhere, especially the rump so light it was almost white, and there the dark gray spots stood out strongly, like a leopard. She knew ‘Leopard Pattern’ was one of the types of Appaloosas, but had never had Palouse investigated by a professional. Maybe should someday.
She also knew the breed—the unique coat pattern of Spanish-bred horses—had been preserved by the Nez Perce Indians for transport, hunting and battle. A heartbreaking story, actually, because the breed was almost destroyed when the Nez Perce tried to escape to Canada, but instead were caught, their possessions taken and their horses—many of them—taken or slaughtered.
Strange she would think of such things right then, on her way to the beginning of a new life, but that’s what the Nez Perce had thought too. She remembered the movie, and the words of the famous Chief Joseph, ‘I will fight no more, forever.’ They had foiled the U.S. cavalry several times, but then stopped to rest…so close to Canada.
At the cab she looked back. Palouse, with her ears perked, still faced Brandi directly, as if the horse knew she was seeing her mistress for the last time for a long time. She waved, then opened the door to her dad’s big black 2015 Chevrolet Silverado Extended Cab Truck and crawled into the passenger seat. One more glance. Palouse kept looking toward her as they drove out of the yard.
Yes, like her German Shepherd dog, King, the horse was a non-thinking dumb animal, but only in the sense they couldn’t speak, couldn’t form human words, but the sounds they did make to show their emotions were as real as any human. King, along with her mom, she had said her tearful goodbyes to earlier, then had asked her mom to keep King in the house, because she didn’t think she could stand saying goodbye to both animals at the same time.
As they headed down the tree-lined lane toward the highway, she reached to her dad’s right shoulder and squeezed it, “I love you, Daddy.”
He patted her hand and sent a grinning glance as he turned onto the highway, “I love you too, my little Brando, more every day.”
She left her hand on his arm for a few more seconds, just fully realizing that she was leaving the ranch, her animal companions, leaving her family, her mother, her dad, and her brothers. She gave one more squeeze to his arm then pulled away, and released a breath. Until that very moment, going away to college was something far in the future, but suddenly the time was upon her.
She tightened her fists, then worked on installing her seatbelt, then just sent her mind to thinking about something else, like the big truck she was riding in. She had driven it several times herself, and always marveled at its smooth handling. Didn’t matter if she was on an interstate highway or the bumpiest cattle pasture, the ride was smooth, almost like riding in a boat.
The music of Katy Perry arrived signaling a series of text messages. She pulled her phone out and looked: “The moment you closed the truck’s door, King heard it and jumped up on the door. His ears were perked more stiffly then I’ve ever seen. When you drove away, he barked once, then whined, then went to his basket and lay down with his head between his legs. The moment you have time, Brandi, you had better call and speak to him. Love, Mom”
Her hand went to her mouth as several tears formed. She grabbed a tissue from the box that was always on the seat. Her dad grasped her hand and squeezed for a couple seconds but said nothing. She knew that he knew that it wasn’t necessary to speak right then, that the hand-squeeze was gesture enough. Her dad knew her so well and she loved him so much because of it!
She wiped her eyes and a sigh left her as she settled in her seat for the hours-long trip.
****
“It’s a really big place, Brando,” her dad said as they entered the front gate of Evanswright University, “Are you sure you’ll be all right here? The junior college closer to home is still available, you know.”
“I know, Dad, but it’s time I get out in the world.” Brandi felt a strong wave of affection for her dad wash over her. Yes, the boys had spent the most time with him, but her dad had made certain he spent time with her too, and had made certain she learned all he could teach her about life from a man’s perspective. He especially worked with her about how to handle horses and to ride. For eighth grade graduation he presented her with the Appaloosa colt, then had spent hours with her in the colt’s training, but only she had ever ridden Palouse, “Besides, Dad, if I went to that junior college it’d be too easy to come home all the time—in fact you maybe even would have insisted I live at home and drive back and forth.”
“That is exactly what my plan was, Sweetheart.” He chuckled and reached for her hand.
She met him halfway and they squeezed, “I’ll be fine, Daddy.”
He squeezed a little harder then released her as they entered the labyrinth of university streets and byways, “I thought we’d take a little tour of the campus before dropping you off. Do you know where that house is?”
“I do, Dad, it’s actually on a city street. I think it’s close to where we came in, but I don’t mind seeing more of the campus too.”
“Okay, well, you just direct me, honey.”
They went on. Soon: “There’s the library.” She pointed, “I’ll need to know where that is.”
Her peripheral vision showed her dad swipe at his face, most likely his eyes, “We can turn around here, Dad. I’ll have plenty of help finding everything.” She thought she would anyway.
They made the turn. A few minutes later they pulled to the curb in front of a big brown house, “You’re sure you want to be in a sorority, too, huh?” He looked toward the large house with the strange Greek letters, and did not smile, didn’t let loose with any hearsay rumors about sororities, and didn’t ask what the letters meant.
She was glad of that, as she wasn’t sure herself about the letters, but she would find out, and then tell him sometime during a visit home, “I’m sure, Dad, and this sorority does many good things.”
He glanced toward her and appeared to be totally unconvinced, “Well, let’s get you moved in so I can get started back…and get home before dark.” With that he sent a small smile.
“Thanks, Dad.”
Three trips later, they lay their last loads down just outside the front door. Her dad then took her into a bear hug, “Now, any problem, Brando, you let me know. You’ve got your cellphone…I don’t care what time of the night or day but if you need something—anything—even if you just want to talk—you call.” He leaned back and nodded to her, “I mean it. Promise me, Brando.”
“I will, Daddy. I love you.”
“I love you too, Sweetie.” He held her tight for a few seconds more, then released her and stepped back, and turned, and started toward the truck.
She knew he didn’t want her to see his tears, but she saw them anyway, and she didn’t mind that her father loved her so much, that he would cry. Just before he got to the truck where he would have to turn, he grabbed his hanky and swiped quickly at his eyes. Had it been anyone other than herself the movement would not even have been noticed, but she knew. She knew her father wanted to remove any sign of his tears before he turned and waved.
She waved back and felt her own tears wanting badly to come, but she held them and stayed still as her father drove away, and they both waved one more time.
As she turned to grasp the first load of her luggage, through the reflective glass in the door, she barely caught the eyes of a girl inside, and thought she saw anger, pure anger, and rage almost—but how could that be? This was a sorority house, a place of kindness…so she dismissed that thought and reached for her stuff.
3
Arianna Simmers
Innocent little fucking twit! Coming here with your fancy daddy in his big fancy fucking pick-up—somebody will soon kick your sweet little ass—I hope it’s me!
Arianna knew they had locked eyes for maybe two seconds, but was in no mood to greet one of the new pledges, so ducked into their small library as the new girl came in and began carrying her stuff up the stairs. About five-feet-four inches—what the hell? Is she even tall enough to join a sorority?—nice body, though, slender. She closed the door but knew they again had locked eyes—why, for cripe’s sake? Did she think I was here to welcome her? Yes, she might have thought that. She maybe also thought that this was a friendly place of kindness. That’s what she had thought too, a year earlier. But that girl was in for a big surprise! Cute face, too, except for her mousy brown hair. Well, after her initiation that hair problem would get fixed fast!
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