Whispers of salvation up.., p.1
Whispers of Salvation (updated), page 1
part #1 of Whispers of Salvation Series
Whispers of Salvation: A Journey to Reclaim Hope
Book 1
N.E. Stevenson
Copyright © 2023 N.E. Stevenson. All Rights Reserved.
Whispers of Salvation: A Journey to Reclaim Hope – Book 1
Edited by – Apollo Editorial Services.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, people, or incidents is coincidental.
While the author may use their own experiences with certain instances, the book is entirely fictional.
To my daughter, I may not be your biological mother, but you will always be the best thing to ever happen to me.
And to my supportive partner, I love you more than words could ever describe. Thank you for saving me and for letting me have a zoo.
I don’t know what I’d do without you.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
PLEASE look after yourself, as much as I would like you to read my book, please look at trigger warnings first and decide if this is safe for your mindset to read.
This is a reverse harem book. Containing spicy scenes.
MMFMMM+
Trigger Warnings!
Autumn has had a rough life so far, so warnings are for what is to come in this series.
Self-harm, depression, suicide ideation, suicide attempts, anxiety, PTSD, grief, Death of a family member, Sexual assault and Rape, abuse (verbal, physical, and sexual), kidnapping, on-page murders, alcoholism, grooming. Most of these situations will be on screen.
But with the dark stuff also comes the super-duper fun stuff like
Sub/Dom scenarios, choking, DP, bondage, group scenes, sensory play, and all the other fun kinky shit that comes with slightly psycho but cinnamon roll men with touch her and die vibes.
If any of my family/friends have supported me by buying this book, please stop reading; I beg you.
If you know me and you read this book. No, you don’t.
And if you don’t know me and have downloaded or even bought this book, hello, new best friend.
Spotify Playlist
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Mb7241plXwsYbxWfK3EUQ?si=d4f43beaea3a4815
For 8 years, all I have known is trying to survive one day to the next.
One night causes me to lose everything, nearly including my life.
Waking up in a hospital bed, surrounded by the people I never thought I would see again, after they abandoned me 8 years ago instead of saving me, is not what I expected, either is the four new men who are insisting they want to be there for me while I heal.
Will it be enough to make me want to live again? Or is it too late for me?
Conas is féidir leat éirí, mura bhfuil tú dóite. –
How can you rise, if you have not been burned.
CONTENTS
Autumn
Autumn
Autumn
Autumn
Kelvin
Atlas
Atlas
Autumn
Autumn
Zander
Autumn
Atlas
Autumn
Dominic
Autumn
Autumn
Autumn
Tobias
Tobias
Autumn
Autumn
Atlas
Autumn
Autumn
Autumn
Autumn
Autumn
Autumn
Autumn
Sebastian
Dominic
Autumn
Epilogue
Chapter 1
Autumn
I can hear the heavy footsteps coming up the creaky stairs.
My heart rate picks up, knowing coming next; the footsteps were heavier than my mom's were, which meant this was another one because mom wanted a drink.
The child support money didn’t go far anymore, not with the way she drank nowadays.
“Please, not again.” I whimper as my bedroom knob turns, the metal creaking from lack of cleaning and maintenance over the years.
His breathing is heavy, and I can already smell the beer on his breath even from across the room, like a vile, hazy cloud around him. I squeezed my eyes shut, pretending to be asleep, hoping that he would leave instead of coming closer.
“Shh, don’t make too much noise, bitch.” he slurs while stumbling over to my bed, tripping over a doll that Chloe had on the floor in my room earlier that day.
He flops onto the edge of my bed, scooting closer while warning me to be quiet once again. He tries to soothe me, running a meaty hand down my hair as if he were trying to calm a spooked animal. I can barely see him because of how dark my room is, but I know why he is here; I know there’s no hiding from what’s about to come next, so I close my eyes as tight as I can while trying to wiggle away from him.
“Look at me!”
My eyes spring open, a tear sliding down my cheek.
I know better than to let weakness show, but I am just so tired. I'm tired of fighting, tired of what’s happening to me, tired of being a parent to Chloe instead of a sister, but I must be strong for her.
Always for her.
Tears make them more excited; they like me broken.
But I can’t help it.
I hurt all over after the beating mom gave me earlier. I asked her for money for food. Chloe needed dinner, and Mom wasn’t going to find it at the bar while she was looking for her next customer. I knew she wouldn’t be back until late, and there was nothing in the house for us to eat.
I could wait; I was used to it, but Chloe was only four. I didn’t want her to know what hunger pains felt like.
I must zone out for longer than I think because the sound of his zipper being pulled down is like a shotgun going off in my small box bedroom.
The heavy grunts as he shucks his trousers off with a stumble; he then proceeds to climb onto the bed, towering above me.
His breath smells like he has been having a weekend-long binge at the bar. Cigarettes and stale beer on his breath makes me want to lean over the edge of the bed and vomit.
Why do they always smell like that?
“Take it off, now!” He demands while tugging on my nipple through my shirt.
I cry out in pain, and the stranger’s lips curve into a self-satisfied smirk. I want to fight back, to push him off me and run from this room of horrors, but I know what will happen if I don’t go along with it like Mom has made me do over the last seven years of my life since we left Dad.
It's not like he’s been around since we left; he has a new family with Brenn.
I don’t matter to him; I don’t think I ever did.
The stranger on top of me must have gotten sick of me not paying him any attention because I’m brought out of my thoughts by him backhanding me across the face. My head jerks to the side, and a metallic taste fills my mouth.
I dig my nails into my palm, my bottom lip disappearing between my teeth as I clamp down to stop myself from crying out so I don’t wake Chlo in the room next to me.
The stranger rips my shirt open and shoves my shorts down.
He takes what he wants like they all have.
It's not like I have a choice; Mom lets it happen. She sets it up and takes money from the men she arranges to come over, and I have to let it happen because it means Chlo is safe from the abuse.
His grunts and moans fill the room, and I stare at the damp spot on my ceiling, desperately trying to think of happier memories to get through this.
Thoughts of a little boy who had hair as dark as the night sky in winter, emerald-green eyes, and a smile that was always the best part of my day while Mom and Dad argued every day.
“Come on, Atty; you need to help me catch the frog!” I squeal as we chase the little green frog across the grass towards the lake in my back garden.
“Slow down, Pumpkin! I’m coming, but you’re going to scare it away if you keep squealing like that! We need to be sneaky.” Atty whispers to me.
I never understood why he called me Pumpkin instead of Autumn like Mom and Dad do. Still, he said it was because the first time he saw me, I was carrying the biggest pumpkin into my house, and I had the biggest smile on my face because it was the first one that I was getting to carve by myself.
Atty has been my best friend since we were five.
He introduced himself to me and declared himself my best friend, and that was it.
I didn’t have any other friends, but that was ok because I had my Atty. He was always by my side, making sure the bullies never hurt me. He got into trouble a lot at school because he would hit the ones that would say mean things about me, but I secretly loved it because it made me feel safe, like nothing in the world could ever hurt me if I had him.
My head jerks to the side again, a sting on my cheek following.
The cut on my lip reopens from an earlier cut from a beating from Mom. My eyes snap open to the stranger above me again; he pulls out from me and finishes on my stomach with a long-pained grunt.
I watch him pull himself off me, stumbling around for his trousers; more grunts fill the room as
I sag in relief when the door clicks shut behind him, and I let the tears fall because it’s finally over, even if it’s only for tonight. I can feel his release starting to dry on my skin, and I feel violated; I want it off me, to scrub my skin until it hurts to make sure there’s no trace of him left behind.
I lay here choking back my tears so Chloe doesn’t hear me until I hear the front door open and then slam closed, telling me he’s left.
I get up, and my limbs ache from how tired I am; I need to get him off me before I can sleep, though.
I grab another pair of shorts and a black shirt that has holes in it from years of wear and tear. I open the door as quietly as I can, listening for any signs of mom lurking around, waiting to attack like a snake in the grass. I know she’s still awake, but if I can make it to the bathroom and go back to bed before she realizes I’m awake, I can avoid another beating because she’s drunk.
The blue bathroom door is within reach when she appears, walking out of the living room. Her brown and grey hair hangs limply around her face, her chapped lips curling into a sneer, showing her rotten teeth from years of neglect.
Her eyes flick to my lips, where I can feel dried blood crusted at the side.
“I’m going to bed. Don’t let that useless brat make any noise in the morning,” Mom grits out.
“Yes, mom.” I sigh; there’s no use in arguing with her that Chloe is only four, that she’s just excited to get to school to see all her friends.
It’s best to play along to try to avoid another beating; I need to be able to move still so I can look after Chloe and go to school.
I only have a few more months until I can leave and try to take Chloe with me. I’ll stay until I can, and I would never leave her behind, but I don’t know how much more I can take at the hands of the monsters that creep around my home with Chlo only a room away.
I’m hoping that if I tell Mom she can keep getting the child maintenance money and the benefits for us, she’ll let me leave with her, but I know it’s a long shot. Mom gets too much money from selling my unwilling body to the men from the bar.
I’m so focused on my thoughts of escaping her that I don’t see the way her face contorts into the usual rage before she strikes until I feel the crack of my ribs from her fist.
“Don’t fucking have an attitude with me, Autumn. You are an ungrateful whore who should be thankful I kept you after the shit that happened with Charlie!” She screams.
Bile rises in my throat at the mention of that monster. He’s Chloe’s biological dad, but he’s not around, only paying mom child support. He’s my biggest monster, bigger than any of the men who have snuck into my room at night for the last seven years.
I lunge for the bathroom while my mom laughs, her footsteps echoing up the stairs to her bed.
I make it to the rim of the toilet when I empty my stomach, heaving until nothing but bile is coming up. My hands are shaking, and my newly cracked ribs are protesting the harsh movements. I can feel a cold sweat starting to break out on my forehead and the back of my neck while I try desperately to push down old memories of my stepfather.
I don’t know how long I sit on the chipped bathroom floor, but I push myself up with shaky arms and clutch the porcelain sink to steady myself to look in the mirror.
My dyed blonde hair is a mess, my hazel eyes are empty and lifeless, and my lip has dried blood crusted around the left side of it from the reopened cut. The scar on my neck is a stark contrast compared to my pale skin, and I trace along the harsh line with my eyes. I want to cover it up so badly, a horrible memory attached to the permanent reminder of what he did to me.
I soak a grey washcloth in warm water, pumping the hand soap onto the material and rubbing it together until suds appear. I wipe my face and stomach until my skin is red and tender to the touch, but I still feel dirty, like his hands are still on me, but I can’t chance a shower when I feel like death warmed over.
I’m dizzy, and I know the extra hit mom gave me cracked another rub because it hurts to breathe.
I check in on Chlo on the way back to bed, careful of the creaky stairs, not wanting to give Mom another excuse to attack tonight.
I’ve tried to protect Chloe as much as possible in the last four years since she was born.
I took one look at her the day she came into this world and said she was mine to protect since I knew mom wouldn’t.
I crawl into my bed, pulling the covers over me like I did when I was a kid to hide from the nightmares, and I pray that I’ll fall asleep soon since I’m up in three hours to get Chloe ready for school.
Chapter 2
Autumn
My alarm blares from beside me, the old iPhone that I own startling me from my sleep.
Groaning and grumbling under my breath, knowing that moving and getting out of bed is going to hurt like a bitch, I mentally prepare myself.
“One, two, three,” I whisper to myself, but before I can even make a move, Chloe comes barrelling into my bedroom, screaming my name, her red hair sticking up in all directions and her bright blue eyes trained right on me.
“AUTUMNNNNN!!!! THERE’S A HUMOONGOOSE SPIDER ON THE ROOF!” she screams and launches herself at me.
I let out a pained grunt from the impact, but I can’t help but chuckle at how she pronounces humongous. Still, I feel like my ears are bleeding, and Mom’s warning from last night rings in my head, so I know I need to get her to quiet down before she wakes her up.
“Shhh, Chloe, we don’t want to wake Mom up, remember? I’ll get the spider later after I make you breakfast; now, how about we get you ready for school, huh?” I ask her, which seems to do the trick because she goes from hyperventilating about the spider to chatting happily about what she’s going to be doing at school today.
I get her downstairs quietly and start brushing out her hair and French braiding it in two sections with little pink bows on the bottom to match the pink dress that she’s chosen for today.
She sits quietly with cartoons on the old box TV while I make her toast for breakfast since the milk spoiled a few days ago, and the last of the orange juice while making myself a black coffee to try to wake myself up a bit more.
Looking in the fridge for ingredients for Chloe’s lunch, I know I’m going to have to ask Mom for money again today, and I hope like hell she gives me it this time.
I got lucky last night with finding some old pasta in the cupboard and managing to use the last tomatoes and cheese to make a sauce for Chloe to have because that girl hates plain pasta. She might be four, but she has the personality of a diva and the attitude of a mean girl high schooler.
She says whatever comes into her head, even when it shouldn’t, and I’ve had to apologize because of her multiple times over the last year while she’s found her voice after starting school.
Finally, she finishes her breakfast, since she was so engrossed in her cartoons, and I’ve chucked on an old band shirt with my jeans, which have seen better days, with my white trainers.
I quickly put on some makeup to cover the dark circles under my eyes and the bruises that clothes can’t cover up, and I brush my teeth. I put Chloe’s plate in the sink, realizing I don’t have enough time to do the dishes before we leave, knowing Mom is going to kick off later when I’m home.
I sigh and grab my phone and Chloe’s lunch from the counter, knowing the argument is a later Autumn's problem, and grab Chloe’s shoes, pushing her feet into them, then try to leave the house as quietly as possible.
“Are you sleepy, Autumn? Did you have bad dreams again?” Chloe whispers to me while I lock up the house.
My eyes shoot to hers, and then I quickly look away, shoving my keys in my pocket, and take her hand.
“No bad dreams, Chlo. I just stayed up a bit too late, y’know?” I try my best to sound convincing because I know damn well I woke up twice having to hold in my screams from nightmares about the monster.
“It’s ok, Autumn; I’ll give you Bun tonight. He’ll scare the bad dreams away like he does for me. Then you won’t be sad. I don’t like it when you’re sad.” Chloe says, and her voice cracks, but she smiles up at me widely, and I know as long as I have her, I’ll be ok.
