THE LAST SECRET KEEPER Secret Keeper series books 1-4

CHAPTER 5

Lanecea lay on her stomach gazing out the window with unseeing eyes.

"I swear if it wasn't for you kids, I'd leave that bitch," Philippe growled as he caught sight of Lanecea's raw, thoroughly beaten ass. "I was wondering why my girl wasn't waiting for me at the door..."

Lanecea didn't respond, savouring the sensation of her father's fingers sifting through her long hair that flowed past her hips. If only Philippe never had to leave for work, leaving his daughter day after day at his wife's mercy.

Wishful thinking.

"It was my fault tonight, Daddy. I played with Johann and then his father asked me a bunch of math questions and I accidentally lost track of the time. I didn't mean to make Mom so angry when I came in late for supper. I tried not to cry but it hurt so badly that I just couldn't do as you suggested and block everything out. That trick doesn't work sometimes... I'm not placing blame - I know it was my fault. I'm confused and in so much pain. Will you please help me be a good girl?"

Philippe didn't answer for a long moment.

"I can help you feel better. Spread your legs open wide and bend your right knee." Philippe groaned as Lanecea obeyed immediately and without a moment's hesitation, innocently unaware that she now offered him an unobstructed view of her tight vagina. "Perfect," Philippe groaned, his hand stroking the back of his daughter's leg, each stroke inching steadily higher.

"She deserved it," Sheila whispered a moment after joining them in the apple-scented bedroom.

Stepping closer, her fingers rubbed her husband's crotch over his own hand tucked into his pants before leading Phillippe away from their daughter's narrow bed.

Gazing out the window, Lanecea hadn't seen the lascivious gleam in her father's hunter-green eyes, but already missed his comforting touch. After all, Lanecea was an optimist believing Philippe would one day rescue his precious daughter from his wife's evil clutches. At least he'd seen her raw buttocks, red welts crisscrossed along the length of her back, and bruised upper thighs. Lanecea's thin skirt caused her too much pain now, so she hadn't bothered to redress after the beating. Besides, her mother had a sadistic penchant for stripping Lanecea naked before whipping her with Philippe's well-worn, thick leather belt. The metal buckle was a particular favorite when striking Lanecea's long back.

None of that mattered now as Lanecea bit her lower lip so hard that she tasted blood. Not far from her bedroom window, flickering fireflies danced as shadows emerged from the forest while others crossed the snake-infested cornfield.

"When you are queen..." Freya began the moment she materialized, reaching for a small glass vial within the soft folds of her gown, but didn't bother to finish her sentence as she drizzled the fragrant liquid over the curves of Lanecea's buttocks.

Lanecea sighed as Freya carefully applied her special concoction, the intense pain subsiding.

"Becoming a queen is taking forever. I'm trying so hard to be patient but if Dad never rescues me and my king never finds me..." Lanecea swallowed hard as her heart raced with fear. "Mom always says I'm going to die young. I think she will try to murder me before I become Queen."

Freya replaced the bottle, then settled on Lanecea's bed waiting for her to readjust as well. There was always a plan but Freya wouldn't make a move on her own, no matter how much the sight of Lanecea's suffering crushed her heart. Frey would be notified and...

Freya wove her slender fingers through Lanecea's dark hair but her thoughts were a million miles away.

"When you are a queen, you will sit on a golden throne..."

"Must it be gold?" Lanecea traced an aimless pattern with her fingertip on Freya's satin-covered thigh. "I blush so much that if I'm sitting surrounded by yellow, everyone will be reminded of ketchup and mustard. Perhaps, instead, it could be white gold or silver?"

"Of course. You are the queen and can have whatever makes your heart happy."

Lanecea remained silent, attempting to imagine a home where her happiness would actually matter.

"I won't have to have ladies-in-waiting? Being surrounded by gossiping, catty women would give me a dreadful headache. I would much rather be surrounded by men and boys who are heroes. They could entertain me with their great plans and dreams as well as protect me."

"I don't think men will remain behind in the castle keeping you company while the king is at war."

"True," Lanecea frowned, deep in thought. "The king may grow suspicious believing they are laying in wait for his throne and queen. I hadn't thought of that. Perhaps it is good that I am not yet a queen..."

Lanecea stifled a yawn as Freya's fingers stroking her hair and the ointment worked in tandem to soothe the girl's body but all thought of sleep flew out the window a moment later as the bed directly across the hallway began to squeak rhythmically. As if on cue, Sheila raised her voice, enabling her to be heard above Philippe's groans.

"She lives in a dream world and doesn't give a shit about anyone else. Yes, it was just pasta, but that's beside the point. Lanecea won't be late for supper again, I can promise you that, and besides, her butt will heal. You get to leave for work every day but I'm stuck at home with her - it's not easy! I'm sure you would have beaten her just as hard if you were in my shoes."

Sheila's grating reminder that her life as a stay-at-home, homeschooling mother was a nightmare finally made the bed stop squeaking. Stepping out of the room, Phillippe disappeared within the washroom for a few minutes, flushed the toilet, and then retreated back into the dark bedroom. His impromptu bonus night of sex officially over, Phillippe sighed as the bed creaked just once beneath his weight.

"You're the boss. I'm sure she learned her lesson but if Lani gives you any backtalk over it tomorrow, let me know and I'll give her something to cry about."

Lanecea cringed as she clung to Freya's thigh with white knuckles. In her home, backtalk meant anything and everything that could set Sheila off into another rage.

"I hate it when that bed squeaks," Lanecea confided in her best friend as her hero turned his back on his daughter.

As always, a few minutes of groaning and bed squeaking froze the Frenchman's heart, binding his loyalty to his wicked wife.

"That's just because you've never experienced a squeaking bed. I know you'll love it," Freya tried in vain to make Lanecea smile but failed.

"I would never use it to destroy my children," Lanecea's voice was as cold as ice.

Freya remained silent as they watched flames from torches flicker against the night sky as men now streamed up the long, gravel driveway creating a symbol Lanecea had never seen before, the flames lighting up the cattails in their hands searing the moment into her memory.

Surrounding Johann's house, Lanecea held her breath as she drank in the magnificent sight although her head still remained on Freya's lap.

"I'm late for an important meeting but will return as soon as I am able. Sleep, Sweetheart. I have a plan."

Lanecea was already asleep before Freya disappeared from her bedroom.