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  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

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  This book is intended for adults only. Contains sexual content and language that may offend some. The suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book Adult Romance due to language and sexual situations.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Published in the United States of America.

  Copyright 2019 Maura O’Brien

  Cover Art and paperback formatted by Dark Water Covers

  Edited by Edits by Erin

  ISBN: 9781095479605

  His Touch

  by

  M. Merin

  Prologue

  The day has come, I’ve waited long enough and tonight I’ll have my answer.

  I quickly pick the half-broken lock on the raggedy trailer home. Her father took off before she was born and none of the men that her mom brings around stay long enough to do anything positive around here. None of them are that type.

  I can hear the sounds of her mom and her current lover fucking as I turn towards Sadie’s room. Her room is an oasis in an otherwise shitty home. Somehow the stench of cigarettes, sex, and body odor aren’t noticeable in here, like they are in the rest of the trailer. This room smells like fresh air and lilacs.

  Unfortunately, it’s also colder in here than the main room. On one of my previous visits, I discovered the panel that Sadie sometimes uses to slip under and out of the trailer; unfortunately, it doesn’t close all the way. If I had attempted to fix it, my presence in her life would have been detected before I was ready, so I’ve left it alone.

  Until now.

  After tonight, she’ll know that her sanctuary has been violated and no matter her decision, I might as well make her more comfortable. There’s a good month of winter left and I want her to see that I will care for her properly. If she agrees.

  Wedging the chair under her door knob, like I’m certain she does, I get to work on her trap door. As with many things nowadays, that takes me longer than I’d like.

  Once that task is complete, I slip the letter I’ve worked on for months and the new iPhone into the nook she hides her serious money in. I think of it as her serious money, because she’s smart enough to leave ten or twenty dollars here or there – for her mother to find and steal. I’ve been close enough to hear them fight about that habit on more than one occasion.

  My night’s mission complete, I quietly move the chair away from the door and listen for any sounds in the main room. Moments later, I leave the way I came in. Sticking to the shadows, I walk down to the fire road and slide into the passenger seat of my truck.

  Nodding to Keith while ignoring the frustrated look on his face, I make sure my new phone is on as he drives me home to wait on her call.

  Chapter 1

  Sadie

  Getting off the bus, down the road from my own personal hell, I try to ignore the icy rain and walk home as fast as I can. Pausing near the trailer in front of ours, I study ours for a moment and try to tell if anyone is awake and if I can sneak in undisturbed.

  Chancing it, I go in the only entrance to our death trap and use a chair to secure my bedroom door as quickly as possible. I don’t want my mom to come out and ask to see the tips I made tonight. Or worse, the current skeezebag that she’s dating.

  I stop cold and close my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I smell him. It’s been over six weeks since his scent welcomed me home and each time I think that I’m imagining it, but there are always little differences around my space.

  When my mom is nosing around, she knocks things over without care or leaves my clothes wherever they fall. When it’s my mystery visitor, it’s more like my empty jewelry box will be pushed back from the edge of the shelf it sits on – so it will no longer be in danger of falling off.

  The first time my room smelled of the outdoors, unfamiliar spices, and motor oil, I freaked out. Who wouldn’t, right? I tore my room apart, certain that some creeper had placed a camera in here or something like that. After the third or fourth time, I came to feel oddly safe. Like someone might actually care enough about me to check in on me.

  Don’t get me wrong. I know I’m completely twisted inside. The idea of some pervy stalker coming into my room shouldn’t make me feel safe. But that just goes to show how absolutely fucking insane my life is.

  Rolling up a five and some ones, I tuck them under my mattress. Next, I move my second-hand dresser away from the wall and remove the outlet cover and the panel below it. Reaching in, I grab for one of the socks that hold the rest of my tip money. My mother would lose her shit if she had any idea I’m sitting on nearly three and a half grand. It’s my going away money. One way or another, I’m out the door the minute I graduate from high school. I even managed to get a driver’s license with help from a friend at work.

  Tugging one of the socks out, I hear a thunk and freeze. Realizing it’s not from the living room, I stare at the wall for a moment before sticking my hand back in.

  Scared of the unknown, I hesitantly feel around until my fingers brush up against paper and a small box. Pulling them out, I can’t stop the gasp when I see a box for a new iPhone XR. Looking around, I hurriedly secure the money away and take a step towards my bed. That’s when it hits me. My room isn’t as drafty as usual. Lifting the edge of the old rug with my foot, I can see that the edges of my escape hatch have been repaired and now fit evenly into the floor around it.

  I smile to myself as I climb into bed and turn on my small lamp. Looking between the two items I’m holding, I open the letter first. My jaw drops open by the third line. And by the end of the second paragraph, my eyes are wide as saucers. When I finish it, I start reading it all over again.

  Sadie –

  I can barely go three days without finding a way to get a glimpse of you. I’ve said your name to myself a thousand times since I first learned it. I’ve tried to figure out some way for us to be together but nothing makes sense, even though words cannot describe how badly I want to touch you.

  I often wonder if you’ve noticed the times I’ve been in your room, lain in your bed, or watched you from a distance? I’ve seen your struggles, looked into your school records, and have even watched you as you sit up in your favorite tree and read by the river. I know the books that have made you laugh and the ones that have made you cry. Even the ones that you hold to your chest, while you look at the world around you and try to digest the words within.

  I’ve seen enough of your mother to know how worthless she is and have become aware of your brother’s rap sheet. I’ve seen the idiots at your school that try to get your attention and how cruel they are when you ignore them. You’ll never know the anger I’ve felt that they’ve had the chance to be so close to you, even though they’ll never be worthy of you.

  I know you have been accepted to several universities, but the scholarships
they’ve offered aren’t nearly enough to help you.

  So, I will.

  Your graduation is the morning of May 16. Your new apartment will be ready that day and it’s less than a mile from your top pick. I have been paying close attention.

  All you need to bring are the things that matter most to you. Leave everything else behind. Your closet and refrigerator will be full, the apartment furnished, and a credit card will be left for anything else you want plus incidentals going forward.

  I’ve taken the liberty of confirming your acceptance to start in the summer program at the university and those classes will start on June 2. Now, comes the hard part, because you have to understand there is a price to be paid if you accept my offer. My rules are non-negotiable and are as follows:

  Your degree must involve a career path that will allow you to enter the workforce upon graduation and support yourself. Medicine, computers, teaching, etc.

  You must maintain a B average.

  Part-time work is at your discretion, but you must notify me of your weekly schedule.

  Your personal safety is important. I want you to sign up for a self-defense or martial art class for each year that this agreement is in effect. I will pay for it.

  You will cut all ties to your family and they will not be permitted in the apartment.

  Drug use is an automatic deal breaker.

  No dating, men or women, nor hook-ups, etc.

  This phone stays on you, charged, at all times. My messages must always be acknowledged and responded to promptly – unless you happen to be in class or at work. This is for your security as well as my peace of mind. I will upgrade the phone every two years or sooner if it is damaged.

  Another deal breaker is any effort on your part to take a photo or video of me, or any attempt to find out more about me than I am willing to share.

  Up to twice a week, I will text you twenty-four hours in advance and at the time given, you will lie naked on your bed with a blindfold on. Your room should be dark, the bathroom or closet light left on, and my chair placed next to your bed. I am not there to speak with you. I will always wait for your permission before I touch you. I will never pressure you for any intimacy you aren’t willing to offer.

  Think, Sadie. I’m sane enough to know that these words that I’ve written and re-read so often sound insane.

  I understand that, but I assure you – your tuition, necessities, and apartment will be paid for, unless any of my rules are broken without just cause or if you chose to end our association.

  Your favorite number will unlock the phone. You have one day to accept my offer, send a text to the only number in your contacts.

  Please rest assured I will walk away without anger if you decline my offer. But I hope you will accept. D.

  P.S. I’ve decided it’s unfair that I know so much about you and you know nothing of me. You can ask me a few questions before you send me your decision. So you do not waste those Q’s on details: I am an unmarried/unattached, hetro man without children and was in high school when you were born.

  I think I could read this letter as often as I’ve read Pride and Prejudice and still have the same range of emotions flow through me. Shock. Anger. Hope. Fear. And some niggling feelings I can’t assign a name to.

  Clicking off my light, I fold the letter back up and tuck that and the box holding the phone between my bed and the wall. I’m too worried to even open the box up, that alone seems like a commitment.

  Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  My body is exhausted from school and then my shift at the diner. I had struggled to stay awake on the bus ride home, but now my mind is moving at a hundred miles an hour. I’m trying to remember every detail of the past year. I must have seen this guy at some point. The only thing I truly know of him is his smell. I roll my face into my pillow, and can faintly catch his scent but know that it will be gone by morning.

  I’ve only just turned eighteen, so of course, I have to worry about him being a freaking pedophile, but for whatever reason – I’m not getting that vibe. Again, I have to wonder how fucking twisted I am because of my upbringing. God! And he’s in his thirties!

  Mom loves her uppers and her booze. Any man that looks at her twice instantly becomes ‘the one’. Like the guy who bought – not just rented – a trailer, three down from ours. He’s been banging her for nearly a month now.

  He just started bringing his brother around for a drink before dinner. I’ve seen this happen before. He’ll want her to fuck his brother next, then maybe one of his friends. He’ll suggest that she start working at a different strip club and promise that his friend, the owner or bouncer, will get her better hours. Then he’ll either start hitting her or make a play for me to join them.

  My life has been an endless cycle of other people’s bad decisions. On one side, there’s my mom who always chooses the guy who’ll treat her horribly and the other part of my life, where every guy at school will assume I’ll fuck him if he tells me I’m pretty.

  All I’ve ever wanted is to get out of this fucking trailer park. Away from this world that expects me to be the whore my mother is. I wasn’t ever afraid of the stranger that I knew was breaking into my room, because some part of me understood he wouldn’t be any worse than the monsters my mother has been dating.

  A ride to college. An apartment and no contact with my family. A shot at a future where I have the chance to make something of myself.

  So many things that I’ve dreamt of – even a phone better than all my classmates have when I’ve never even had a cellphone before.

  I start to think about the questions that I need to ask him. An hour later, it occurs to me that if I agree to his rules, I’ll never know what he looks like. I wonder about what kind of bond we might form and if he’ll truly let me walk away if I want to.

  Chapter 2

  Sadie

  I find myself reaching for the box, opening it and powering on the phone; unable to wait any longer.

  Hi

  Okay, I’ll admit. My first text isn’t very inspired.

  D: I was hoping you’d text me tonight, Sadie.

  Comes his immediate reply.

  Me: I’m scared.

  I text him, honesty is the best policy, right?

  D: I don’t want that. And I swear I’ll never hurt you.

  Me: You said no touching without my permission. So you won’t force me to have sex with you, right? How can I know that you mean that?

  D: You’ll have to learn to trust me. How about if I don’t visit you until the end of July?

  Me: You signed your letter D. Does it count as question if I ask your name?

  D: Duncan. That won’t count, Sadie. We can wait until tomorrow for your real questions, if you’d like?

  Me: No. Now is good. Then I’ll decide.

  Duncan? Is that anyone’s real name? Maybe it’s his last name…

  D: Smart, ask away.

  Me: What is your end game in this? You said you’re unattached but are there other women you do this with? Argh, now I have used up all my questions. There’s so much you know about me but how can I possibly be sure you won’t abuse me? If you’re unhappy with me – if I never give you permission to touch me, will I be kicked out of the apartment and school at the same time? I have about six more questions, including how you knew my favorite number.

  Lying in bed, my fingers start to ache from texting but I hold the phone as minutes tick away. I finally see the dots on the screen as he types in his reply.

  D: You can’t hold all the cards, dear Sadie.

  His reply makes me roll my eyes. I don’t have any cards; surely, he must know that.

  D: And I think it’s too soon to answer all of your questions. I will say: I’ve never truly wanted a woman before I saw you. I’ve never considered asking this of anyone else, nor will I ever again. These terms are dependent on my long-term desire to have you. Upon rereading my letter, I see I wasn’t clear. I will fully pay for your tuition and apartment as long as yo
u do not violate my terms. If something happens to me, or I change my mind about you – money will be set aside to pay for your undergraduate degree and the apartment.

  Me: Thank you for answering my questions. I’m tired and want to think. I may have another question.

  D: Sweet dreams, Sadie.

  There is no sleep for me tonight. The hours fly by and I know I’m just delaying the inevitable. This option, as messed up as it is, is the only way for me to get away from this life. To create a better one.

  No matter how I’ve tried to lie to myself, that money I’ve saved won’t get me an apartment for any length of time. It won’t last a few months in the city, even if I get another job waiting tables.

  And I’m weak. How long before someone decides to simply take what I have? Pulling the letter out, I use the flashlight on the phone to read it one more time.

  The sudden sound of a can being kicked across the floor and Dick swearing right outside my door startles me. Hiding the letter again, I can only guess he was trying to be quiet but failed because of the crap they throw around. I don’t even remember what this guy’s name is. About ten years ago, a guy named Dick stayed with my mom for three months. After he left, I just kept using that name for everyone she brought through here.

  “What are you doing?” Mom’s rough voice comes from the other end of the trailer.

  “Getting something to drink,” is Dick’s excuse. Fucking asshole passed the kitchenette to get as close to my room as he sounds. When I hear the water turn on, I lift my phone again.

  Me: I accept.

  D: Thank God.

  Me: You offered to wait to visit me until the end of July. I think that will only make me more nervous.

  D: I’m more than willing to come over in the days after you move in. Just say the words.

  Me: I agree to your terms, you do not need to wait after I move in.

  D: Is there anything you need between now and graduation that I can get you?