Never: an erotic retelling of Peter Pan Read Online Free Page B
Author: Elizabeta Brooke
her heart stutter to a standstill inside her chest as she raised her eyes to stare at her mother. "Why, Ma?" she asked slowly.
"Because you'll be paying me back for all this disgrace is why." Her mother stared into her face with such obvious cruelty in her pale eyes Wendee actually shuddered. "You'll forget about this Astro... this star nonsense and work with me, in the Hotel, so's I can keep an eye on you. Make sure you don't get..." she trailed off as they stared at each other, the unspoken words hanging between them.
But there could be no possibility of Wendee repeating this mistake. The surgeon at the hospital she'd been rushed to had told her the truth as gently as possible the moment she'd woken from the surgery. There'd be no further accidents - the organs required to make a baby had been irrevocably destroyed. At the tender age of eighteen, Wendee O'Connor's hopes for a family to compliment her planned career were as dead as her baby.
She stared up at her mother, working her tongue to moisten her mouth. "Don't visit me again, Ma."
"Wasn't going to," her mother said, dismissing the subject of her daughter's mutilation and her part in it without a second thought. "Got better things to do than drive fifty miles to see an ungrateful child," she grumbled as she rose, rocking the bed so violently, Wendee felt faint from the pain. "Don't know why they had to fly you here anyway," she added, grunting as she retrieved her hat and bag from the visitors chair.
"Because she would have died otherwise, Mrs O'Connor," the sister said briskly as she strode over to the bed. "Good day."
Wendee watched her mother's piggy eyes narrow before she turned away, lumbering out like a large, ugly beach ball.
"I don't want to hurt your feelings, dear," the sister said kindly as she took Wendee's pulse, "But your mother is a cast-iron bitch. I hope you don't have dogs because I'd hate to see what she'd do to them if she treats a daughter like that." She passed Wendee a paper cup of water and some tablets from the tray she'd brought and Wendee gulped them down, swallowing the liquid greedily. "Must be a difficult life for you," the Sister added sympathetically.
They looked at each other for a moment, allies against the enemy.
"I hate her," Wendee said aloud for the first time in her life.
The sister nodded, as though she’d expected no less. "Coming out of the anaesthetic you were babbling about winning a physics scholarship to a Brisbane University. Is that true?"
"Yes. I'm..." Wendee faltered for a moment, feeling the gut-wrenching pain of loss, permanent loss that no painkiller could touch. She'd had part of the dream torn away from her, but not all of it. "I'm going to be an Astronomer," she said softly, her voice carrying the absolute conviction only a driven person can know. A person driven by hate.
She would succeed. And she'd never look back.
"I've got a niece, Marie, who lives in Brisbane," the sister had said, looking at
Wendee speculatively. "She's got a spare room..."
Dee opened her eyes, blinking against the unexpected sunlight, totally disorientated. Her body had returned to the present, but her consciousness still lay on that hospital bed, hurting.
An insistent ringing in her ears unsettled her further.
She blinked again. The sound, like the buzzing of a mosquito heard through the groggy layers of sleep took her a moment to identify. The telephone. Still staring out the window, she reached behind herself, fumbling to retrieve it. Her arms felt leaden and her fingers thick and clumsy, as though she really was asleep and unable to wake herself.
Her lips moved sluggishly. "Hello."
" Dr. Williams ?"
"Yes."
" I've got a student here with a problem. You're the Convenor of First Year at the moment, aren't you
"Because you'll be paying me back for all this disgrace is why." Her mother stared into her face with such obvious cruelty in her pale eyes Wendee actually shuddered. "You'll forget about this Astro... this star nonsense and work with me, in the Hotel, so's I can keep an eye on you. Make sure you don't get..." she trailed off as they stared at each other, the unspoken words hanging between them.
But there could be no possibility of Wendee repeating this mistake. The surgeon at the hospital she'd been rushed to had told her the truth as gently as possible the moment she'd woken from the surgery. There'd be no further accidents - the organs required to make a baby had been irrevocably destroyed. At the tender age of eighteen, Wendee O'Connor's hopes for a family to compliment her planned career were as dead as her baby.
She stared up at her mother, working her tongue to moisten her mouth. "Don't visit me again, Ma."
"Wasn't going to," her mother said, dismissing the subject of her daughter's mutilation and her part in it without a second thought. "Got better things to do than drive fifty miles to see an ungrateful child," she grumbled as she rose, rocking the bed so violently, Wendee felt faint from the pain. "Don't know why they had to fly you here anyway," she added, grunting as she retrieved her hat and bag from the visitors chair.
"Because she would have died otherwise, Mrs O'Connor," the sister said briskly as she strode over to the bed. "Good day."
Wendee watched her mother's piggy eyes narrow before she turned away, lumbering out like a large, ugly beach ball.
"I don't want to hurt your feelings, dear," the sister said kindly as she took Wendee's pulse, "But your mother is a cast-iron bitch. I hope you don't have dogs because I'd hate to see what she'd do to them if she treats a daughter like that." She passed Wendee a paper cup of water and some tablets from the tray she'd brought and Wendee gulped them down, swallowing the liquid greedily. "Must be a difficult life for you," the Sister added sympathetically.
They looked at each other for a moment, allies against the enemy.
"I hate her," Wendee said aloud for the first time in her life.
The sister nodded, as though she’d expected no less. "Coming out of the anaesthetic you were babbling about winning a physics scholarship to a Brisbane University. Is that true?"
"Yes. I'm..." Wendee faltered for a moment, feeling the gut-wrenching pain of loss, permanent loss that no painkiller could touch. She'd had part of the dream torn away from her, but not all of it. "I'm going to be an Astronomer," she said softly, her voice carrying the absolute conviction only a driven person can know. A person driven by hate.
She would succeed. And she'd never look back.
"I've got a niece, Marie, who lives in Brisbane," the sister had said, looking at
Wendee speculatively. "She's got a spare room..."
Dee opened her eyes, blinking against the unexpected sunlight, totally disorientated. Her body had returned to the present, but her consciousness still lay on that hospital bed, hurting.
An insistent ringing in her ears unsettled her further.
She blinked again. The sound, like the buzzing of a mosquito heard through the groggy layers of sleep took her a moment to identify. The telephone. Still staring out the window, she reached behind herself, fumbling to retrieve it. Her arms felt leaden and her fingers thick and clumsy, as though she really was asleep and unable to wake herself.
Her lips moved sluggishly. "Hello."
" Dr. Williams ?"
"Yes."
" I've got a student here with a problem. You're the Convenor of First Year at the moment, aren't you
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