Read the book: «Soul Fulfiller»

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“Life is always the waiting for that moment when everything ahead depends solely on your own decisive actions.”

— Paulo Coelho

“Dedicated to my beloved mother — thank you for your unwavering support and your selfless help. You are the best.

And to my dear sister Katya — an extraordinary young woman with a remarkable mind, boundless love, and constant support.”

ISBN 978-5-0069-7792-1

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Present Day

“Mom, why are you sitting here staring at the sea? You do this every evening when we come down for the weekend. It’s boring.”

“It’s a long story,” I replied, kissing my son on the forehead. “I love you.”

“And I love you. Mom, how did you and Dad meet? I want to know all the details.”

“When I was fifteen, I was curious about things like that too. All right then — ready to listen?”

“Listen to what?” my husband asked as he came over to us and sat down beside us.

“Mom’s about to tell the story of her life, right, Mom?”

“Yes.”

“Mom is about to tell an interesting story from her life.”

Nine years ago…

And now it was just the two of us. My sister’s house. I knew it like the back of my hand — I could tell you where everything was with my eyes closed. And if she ever found out what Colin and I had done here, she’d kill me. That was how I spent my eighteenth birthday: we trashed the entire house, drank alcohol, and swam in the pool. I was lucky that all my friends had already turned eighteen — no one had to ask their parents for permission, and buying alcohol in stores was finally legal for me too, so I didn’t even have to spend money on that. My sister was already used to the fact that her little sister loved all kinds of parties, especially throwing surprises that were completely not to her taste. I asked Colin to help me clean up after last night’s party — we had both had way too much to drink, and I hadn’t even noticed when the house turned into a pile of trash. Meanwhile, I was trying to scrub a snow-white carpet that had been soaked with cherry punch, pineapple pieces scattered all over it. Unfortunately, no matter how hard I tried, it was hopeless. I could already imagine how much trouble I was going to be in over that ridiculously expensive carpet.

“Aria, save this for later, I have more important work to do,” Colin whispered in my ear. He kissed me on the lips, picked me up, and carried me to the bed.

“Colin, this is my sister’s bed, and I need to clean up,” I tried to get out from under the drunk guy who had started kissing my neck. He kissed it hungrily, moving lower and lower, and I felt the touch of his lips on my body. A cry burst from my lips:

“Colin! Red!”

He looked at me for a second, but continued. He began unbuttoning the top buttons of my plaid shirt. I pushed him away forcefully, trying to get him to calm down and stop acting like a moral monster, but he grabbed my hands, pulled them behind my head, and held them there with his hand, while his other hand touched my bare waist. Colin kissed me passionately on the lips and whispered:

“Baby, don’t tell me when to stop.”

“You’re drunk! Get off me right now! Stop it! This isn’t funny.”

“Why do you keep turning me down? It only makes me want you more,” he said, continuing to kiss me, while one hand fumbled with the button on my jeans.

“I’m not ready. Colin! Stop! I’m going to scream!” I tried to pull away, but I couldn’t. He was much stronger than me.

“We both know you won’t scream, or I’ll have to hit you. I’ve waited too long for this.” He unbuttoned my shirt and pulled my jeans down with one hand, despite my attempts to resist. At that moment, I realized I couldn’t do it alone.

“Help! Help! Aaaah…” Colin covered my mouth with his hand and slapped me across the face. I felt tears streaming down my cheeks. Anger and fear overwhelmed me. I managed to pull one hand free and punched him in the nose. He let go and pressed his hands to his face. Blood flowed from his nose, dripping onto my naked body, and I sobbed and screamed at the same time, seeing his satisfied expression.

I tried with all my might to break free and, thank God, I succeeded. While he tried to stop the bleeding, I rushed to the door, praying I’d make it in time. As I ran, I stepped on something sharp and lost the feeling in my foot. My legs gave way, and I fell. I screamed in pain, but I saw Colin, his face bloodied, heading toward me. I started crawling backwards and somehow managed to get to my feet. Just as I was about to run, I felt his strong hand on my wrist. He squeezed it so hard that I screamed and began flailing at him, trying to free myself. Colin roughly turned me toward him and hit me. I fell, and the white carpet was covered in blood stains. I screamed in pain again.

He squatted down next to me, grabbed my face, and said,

“You forced me to do this, you lying bitch!”

He began to undress me. I was in agony. Everything went black before my eyes and I lost consciousness.

I woke up to a burst of bright light. It was painfully bright. I blinked, and at once I felt the pain — spreading through every part of me. It dawned on me: this wasn’t a dream.

“Good afternoon, Ariel Moore. I’m Dr. Ren Maddox — you can just call me Ren. You’re in the hospital right now. Do you remember what happened?”

A middle-aged man with a pleasant voice was standing in front of me. I noticed his white lab coat, slightly fitted to his strong build. Beneath it, I could see brown trousers and a dark T-shirt.

“I remember there was a party last night. We drank too much, and that’s where it ends,” I replied.

“Is that all you remember?” Ren asked again.

“Yes,” I nodded.

Of course, I remembered everything down to the last detail, including what Colin Kandel did to me. My boyfriend beat and raped me. I tried to erase all traces of that night, but I didn’t tell the doctor anything.

“Okay, Ariel, get some rest. I’ll be back later, and your parents are on their way and will be here soon,” he said.

“Mr. Ren, is there anything you want to tell me?”

“You want me to tell you what happened?” He looked at me seriously. “Ariel, I know perfectly well you remember everything. Your parents already know everything, too. You have to tell the police who did this. That bastard’s facing a pretty penny; judging by your bruises, you resisted.”

My jaw dropped. What was I supposed to say to my parents? The doctor left, and tears streamed down my face. Suddenly, I felt an urge to look at myself in the mirror — to see just how bad it really was.

I carefully pushed myself up, immediately feeling the familiar pain in my right leg — something sharp making itself known. Barely reaching the mirror, I was horrified by what I saw. I hardly recognized myself: dark bruises under my eyes, my face brutally battered, a gash in my eyebrow, and my lip still bleeding.

How could this have happened?

That very day — the day I first met him — suddenly flashed through my mind…

…Ten years earlier

California is an amazing place. Sometimes it gets tiring when you’ve lived here your whole life, but every time you visit new spots, you discover a different side of it. My life is a constant chain of changes — something new every day — and I’m endlessly happy about that.

“Ariel! Sam’s here!” my mom shouted.

“Coming!”

My friend looked flawless, as always. I hugged her and kissed her on the cheek.

“So, where are we going today?”

“First, I’m going to introduce you to someone,” Sam replied, pulling me toward the door.

“Mom, we’re heading out. I’ll be home late.”

The weather didn’t disappoint — the evening sunset was just what was needed to lift my mood. I grew more and more curious about what Sam had in mind.

“Who are you going to introduce me to?”

“You’ll see for yourself,” she said.

We arrived at our favorite spot — a huge field, usually used for car races or exclusive parties. Almost every week, underground fights were held here as well. Today, it was motorcycle racing. The heat was unbearable. The roar of the engines filled me with a strange kind of passion. It was unreal.

“Ariel, meet my cousin,” Sam said, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek.

A very handsome young man looked at me and said,

“Colin.”

“Nice to meet you, Colin. I’m Ariel.”

“Want to ride with me?” he asked, wrapping an arm around my waist.

“Can I?”

“If you ride with me, then yes,” he said, kissing me on the cheek.

“Go on, Ariel, you won’t regret it,” Sam pushed me gently.

We climbed onto the motorcycle, and I wrapped my arms around Colin’s waist, resting my head against his back. The guy on the black bike shouted at Colin:

“Colin, this is a bad idea!”

The guy was clearly unhappy with what Colin was doing. I wondered what he meant. I noticed that everyone else was riding alone — I was the only one sitting with Colin.

“Hold on!” Colin shouted.

The engine roared to life, and I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing myself tighter against him. When a gunshot rang out, I felt the wind whipping through my hair. It was an indescribable sensation, and I wanted to scream. I could feel Colin riding with complete confidence. I was enjoying the ride.

Sharp turns, unpredictable weather, and the antics of the other racers kept throwing challenge after challenge at us. I felt us veer sharply to the right and climb a hill. I gripped his waist even tighter and closed my eyes, feeling free. Adrenaline coursed through me, a mixture of thrill and fear. A couple of times, we lifted so high that I was grateful I held on tightly — if I’d been lucky the first time, I might not have been the second.

We arrived first. For a few seconds, we sat in silence, catching our breath and taking in the stunning view. The beauty of it all captivated us, and still panting, I tried to process everything that had happened in the last few minutes.

“That was amazing, thank you,” I said to Colin, handing him back his helmet. Adrenaline was still coursing through me. He kissed me on the cheek and wrapped an arm around my waist.

“You guys are so cool!” Sam shouted.

Colin left us and went over to his friends.

“So, girlfriend, did you like my bad-boy brother?”

“Just a little,” I replied with a laugh.

We headed toward everyone, moving in the direction of my best friend’s stepbrother. Colin brought me a beer, and I thanked him with a teasing smile. The music got louder, and the dance floor filled with people.

“Want to dance with me?”

“Baby, I don’t dance,” Colin replied, patting me on the back and grabbing another beer. Sam tugged me by the hand and pulled me onto the dance floor. I could feel Colin and his friends watching me, but I decided to ignore it. The alcohol seemed to have lifted my spirits a bit.

Suddenly, I felt cold hands on my waist. Turning around, I saw Colin. His hands stayed on my waist, and I placed mine on his shoulders.

“You said you don’t dance.”

“You have a good effect on me,” he said, stepping closer. I could feel his quickened breath. Something inside me stirred, and I reached up on my tiptoes. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kissed him.

“And you have a bad effect on me,” I replied, continuing the kiss.

Present Day

“Ariel! How are you, sweetie?” I looked into the mirror again and saw my mom’s reflection.

As always, she was stunning: large brown eyes, a charming smile of a woman who knew life. Her lilac velour top fit her slender figure perfectly. Turning toward me, she threw her arms around me in a hug.

“Where’s Dad?” I asked.

“He’s at work,” my mom replied, averting her eyes, making it clear she didn’t want to talk about it. “Ariel, don’t you have something to tell me?”

“Mom, I threw a party at Emmy’s. I didn’t want you to find out. We drank a little too much, and I don’t remember anything — how it all happened, I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m really ashamed, and I promise it won’t happen again.”

Tears streamed down my cheeks.

“I believe you, but your father doesn’t want to talk to you. He says you’ve embarrassed the family. I’m sorry for what happened to you, but I’ve always been unhappy with your parties — you know that, dear. I think things will be okay, maybe not now, but in the future.”

Silence caught us off guard. I listened to the ticking of the second hand, sinking deeper into my thoughts. A lump formed in my throat. If only I could turn back time… I can’t believe all this happened to me, even though I don’t clearly remember everything. I’ll be too ashamed to look any of my relatives in the eyes, especially Emmy and Jerrad. After all, it happened in their house. If only I hadn’t thrown that stupid party…

“Ariel, the doctor will keep you overnight. We’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon, so be ready,” my mom said, kissing me on the forehead before leaving. I heard the click of her heels on the floor and the door slam shut. Silence… I can’t stand it. It makes me feel so alone — and I am. I don’t want to see the Kandel family again. I never thought he would be the one to hurt me. Maybe I should tell the police… even though I don’t remember the details…

There was a knock on the door. I jumped — it was the same knock as when Colin arrived at my cousin’s house. A short, slightly plump man in a police uniform entered.

“Hello, Ariel Moore, I’m Mr. Stan. I’ve come to talk to you. Would you like to share what happened last night?”

I stared at him and muttered, “Yes, I do.” I decided the right thing to do was tell the police everything, namely, everything I remembered.

I described the entire incident, detailing what Colin had done: how he first assaulted me, then began to undress me, how he hit me several times, how I remember seeing my blood, his face, and soon I passed out. But from the unpleasant sensation between my legs, I realized he had raped me. Mr. Stan listened attentively, writing something down in his notebook.

“Ariel, I understand this is terrible, but let’s be honest: my nephew wouldn’t have done this if you hadn’t provoked him. He told me everything as well, but after you lost consciousness, he didn’t touch you and called an ambulance. The blood from you hitting the bed confirms the presence of alcohol in your system. I’ll give you a certain sum of money, and you can forget this unfortunate incident. If you refuse, I’ll make sure you regret it. I have connections far more powerful than yours. I hope you understand me. I’ll leave an envelope on your bed, and I hope this is our first and last meeting. Get well soon.”

My jaw dropped. What a nightmare! I watched Mr. Stan place the envelope on the bed and head toward the door. I needed to make a quick decision.

“Wait!” I shouted.

Mr. Stan turned, raising his eyebrows.

“Take the money. I don’t need your bribes. Understand? Now get out of here.”

He sighed heavily and added,

“You’ll regret this. I’m glad we understand each other.”

He ran into the doctor as he opened the door. In the meantime, I managed to cover the envelope with a blanket.

“Ariel, are you all right?” the doctor asked.

“Yes, perfectly. Thank you.”

The doctor went through all my bruises and hematomas, showing me how the areas on my leg and arm had swollen and turned a deep purple. I was still doubled over from the pain in my abdomen, but I was lucky — none of my internal organs had been damaged. He explained that because of the multiple injuries, my body could go into pain shock, and that the most important thing was not to delay treatment.

Inside, I felt emotionally hollowed out. There was a complete sense of helplessness, vulnerability, and shame over everything that had happened — and a crushing uncertainty about how I was supposed to go on living after this.

The night was long and тяжёлой. I couldn’t stop thinking about the words Colin’s uncle had said. Just hearing his name made me feel sick, my stomach turning. I didn’t manage to fall asleep at all.

During the day, just as she had promised, my mom came to pick me up. We drove in silence, not saying a word about what had happened to me. Dad wasn’t home, and Mom was in a hurry — she was already late for work.

I locked myself in my room, turned on some soft, lyrical music, and lay down on the bed, burying my face in the pillow, trying to escape my thoughts. Our town is so small that I was sure everyone already knew everything.

There was a knock at the door. Who could that be?

I opened it — and immediately recoiled. I wanted to scream, but Colin covered my mouth with his hand and stepped inside. I managed to break free from his aggressive grip and backed away, grabbing a knife from the table — one I must have forgotten there at some point. It was small, but sharp.

“Get out, or I’ll call the police.”

“Don’t you understand yet? You won’t scare me with this. I came for something else.”

“For what?” I pointed the knife at him. My hands were shaking with anger and fear.

“I need you. Put the knife away.”

“You’re crazy. There’s nothing between us anymore. Get out!”

“Aria, don’t do this.” He took a step toward me. I instinctively stepped back.

“You’re crazy. How could you do this to me? To your sister’s best friend?! Colin, you raped me, look at my bruises!” I pointed to the same hand I’d been holding the knife in, trying to emphasize how quickly I could react when he made his next move.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

He rubbed the back of his head with his right hand and bit his lip.

“Is that all you have to say?” Get out of here forever.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I couldn’t stop them.

“I really want to be with you. I really love you,” he took a step forward, but I hid behind the bar.

“Go away. Colin, you have no idea how much you’ve hurt me: physically and emotionally. Are you out of your mind? You realize you raped me, beat me several times, and almost killed me! I don’t want to know you,” I said, tears streaming down my face.

He took a deep breath and stepped back.

“You’ll regret this.”

He left, slamming his fist against the door. I was terrified. For a few more seconds, I stood in the entryway-kitchen, unsure of what to do or how to act. Facing such a situation for the first time makes it feel like your life is shattered. Every part of me ached. I knew I couldn’t fix what had happened right now, but I wasn’t sure I could live with it.

I spent the rest of the day in my room. In the evening, my cousin returned from vacation with her husband and son. There was a knock at the door. A pretty brunette walked in — my mirror image.

“Don’t you have anything to tell me?” she asked, giving me a stern look.

“Emmy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to turn out like this. I thought we’d just have fun, like we used to.”

My sister listened carefully, then interrupted:

“I actually meant, why aren’t you having dinner with us? What happened — well, it was bad, but I was just like you at your age. Senior year isn’t easy. Come on, get up, let’s have dinner — I’ve missed you.”

I looked at her and realized that our parents had clearly told her the whole situation, though without any details — like the fact that Colin had assaulted me. I bit my lip, unsure whether to start that conversation or pretend nothing had happened. Before I could decide, my gaze shifted to my sister, whom I rarely saw in my life.

Emmy hugged me and kissed me on the cheek.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too.”

We had dinner as a family, and for the first time in a long while, I felt protected from the cruel world around me. Everything went much better than I had expected. My father, however, didn’t say a word to me, pretending hardly to notice I was there. It was a typical situation. Our relationship had been strained since childhood — he lived in his own world where I simply didn’t exist. Over the years, I had simply grown used to it.

“Maybe you’ll stay?” my mom asked as my sister and her family were getting ready to leave.

“Next time,” my sister replied.

The interesting thing about our family is that my mom had always treated her as her own daughter. When she lost her sister during adolescence, she had vowed to care for her niece. Emma’s real mother, Emilia, was diagnosed with brain cancer late in her pregnancy, with no hope of recovery. After giving birth, she fell into a coma. I, too, had always considered Emma my own sister. But when she turned seventeen, she left home and started living apart from us — first for school, then university, then marriage, and finally the birth of her child.

They hadn’t even left yet, but I was already missing them. My sister, Jerrad, and their son, Nate, drove off. I couldn’t get enough of the little rascal, who had ruined my shirt by throwing porridge at me. He was only a year old, but that wasn’t an excuse!

Once they were gone, I felt the loneliness again. I had always loved these little family gatherings. I locked myself in my room with a cup of tea and an intriguing book, The Embodiment of a Dream by Jerrad Easton. Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep.

I woke up to my mother’s screams. Reflexively, I glanced at my phone — it was 2:40 a.m.

“What’s happening?” I saw my mom in tears and my father hurriedly packing things.

“Emmy!”

“What? Mom, what happened?”

My mother couldn’t hold back her tears. Seeing her, I realized something had gone terribly wrong. Tears streamed down my face as well.

“Emmy… there’s a fire… We’re going to the scene.”

“What?! Emmy and Jerrad? Was there a fire? Are they okay?”

“They’re in the ambulance,” my mom sobbed, rushing to my side and collapsing onto my shoulder. “I just got the call… I don’t know anything else.”

On reflex, I quickly threw on my jacket.

“I’m coming with you!” I added, already dressed from the evening — I hadn’t changed after falling asleep in my clothes, and now I’d just thrown the jacket over them.

“No, you’re staying here,” my mom said monotonously.

“That’s not fair! Then I’ll take my car.”

I ran out onto the terrace, slamming the door behind me. I grabbed the keys from my jacket, got into the car, and started the engine. Rain poured down outside, and my heart was racing. I slammed the accelerator to the floor and drove at full speed. Dangerous? I knew — but that didn’t matter now.

When I arrived at my sister’s house, firefighters were still extinguishing the remnants of the blaze. The house was unrecognizable — completely blackened, the air thick with the smell of smoke, and dark, heavy clouds billowing into the sky. Red tape cordoned off the area to keep people out.

But I had to get inside. I ducked under the tape, only to be grabbed by a police officer by the shoulder.

“You can’t go in there,” he said, holding me back as I struggled to break free.

“I need to get in! My sister is in there!” I saw my mom and dad slip under the tape at the corner of the house. When had they even arrived?

“I’m sorry, but minors aren’t allowed in. Your parents are already inside — if they give permission, I can let you through,” the officer said.

I noticed my mom bend over, then rise, tears streaming onto my dad’s shoulder. I needed to get in! But he just shook his head from side to side — no matter how badly I wanted to, I couldn’t go in.

He was momentarily distracted by another officer, and I realized these were my seconds. I slipped past the first officer, who lunged after me.

When I reached my parents, my mom screamed — my mom screamed:

“You’ll see everything from here!” Three bodies lay before me, covered head to toe in sheets. My heart sank, and my stomach began to churn. A buzzing in my head and a confusion of what was happening.

Were they dead? No — no! That can’t be true! NO! I screamed in pain and collapsed to my knees, sobbing. A police officer behind me grabbed me, trying to hold me back, but I tore free and rushed even closer.

They were unrecognizable — their bodies were in such terrible condition that I couldn’t even tell who was who. I only recognized my little nephew, smaller in stature than the two bodies lying before him. No. Just last night we had all been having dinner together, talking, laughing —and now they were gone.

I was staring at three blackened corpses, hardly bodies at all, so little was left of them. Everyone around us was watching, but I didn’t notice. I looked at my parents: my mother was sobbing uncontrollably, and my father had covered his face with his hands, unable to do anything.

I screamed with all the pain tearing through me from the inside.

His words echoed in my head: “You’ll regret this.”

None of this was an accident. It was him. My thoughts focused on only one person— the only one who could have been responsible.

Firefighters tried to pull me away, but I broke free and fell to my knees, slamming my hands into the wet ground a few times, screaming in pain again. Everything inside me was collapsing.

They finally sat me down on a wet bench beyond the tape, where a young woman in a white coat was saying something to me — but I wasn’t listening. I was lost in myself. “You’ll regret this,” his words echoed again.

I quickly wiped my tears and jumped up, heading for my car. Fumbling, I pulled the keys from my soaked jeans, now a gray-brown instead of their usual blue.

From behind, someone shouted:

“Grab her!”

That only made me run faster. I flung open the car door and slid into the driver’s seat. But before I could close it, some stranger grabbed the door.

“Don’t do this,” he said.

“What? Let go of the door, I’m fine!”

“I doubt it.”

“Get off! I’m leaving whether you like it or not.”

“Alright, then I’ll go with you,” he said, hopping into the passenger seat in an instant.

I was stunned. I glanced back at the house, still burning, wiped my tears once more — and saw a man shouting: “Blaine, I said stop her, not go with her!”

“Blaine, so,” I said, feeling my indignation rise. “What the hell are you even doing?”

“Where are we headed?” he replied, ignoring my question as if we were following some predetermined plan.

I started the car and jerked forward. One thought consumed me — Colin. He was to blame for everything. I didn’t know what I was about to do, but I let instinct take over. My hands gripped the wheel tighter as I shot past three cars and, barely avoiding a truck, crossed the intersection on yellow. Speed had been my passion since childhood, ever since my father first put me behind the wheel. It was fun — but maybe those were the last warm memories I had with him.

Blaine stayed silent, not uttering a word about driving more cautiously. I knew he was enjoying my maneuvers just as much as I was. But unlike him, I was filled with a rage that just wanted to burst out.

I ran out of the car, slamming the door hard, and went to the front door, pounding my fists and kicking. I tensed when I heard him coming down the stairs. The door opened, and Colin stood before me with a smug grin. I immediately pounced on him, punching him in the face, leaving a cut that immediately began to bleed, and punched him in the chest a couple of times, making him make a sound like pain. He pushed me back onto the couch and stepped aside.

“Are you completely crazy?” he yelled.

“You freak, did you do all this? Admit it!” I advanced on him, waving my arms. I picked up a glass from the table and threw it at him, but Colin dodged, and the glass shattered across the room.

“Calm down! I told you you’d regret it! You should feel what I feel.” “You bastard! How could you?! You’re an insensitive degenerate!” I picked up the plate and threw it at him again. This time the shards shattered, and Colin stepped on one, screaming in pain. He looked at me with a sinister gaze and advanced on me. I remembered that look; it was the same as the night he raped and beat me.

At that moment, Blaine stepped in, positioning himself in front of me.

“Man, get out of the way!” Colin barked irritably, trying to move forward. He had already raised his hand, as if to grab me, but Blaine surged toward him with incredible speed, clutching him by the collar. A heartbeat later, with one sharp motion, he shoved Colin back, sending him staggering — clearly unprepared for that kind of resistance.

Before Colin could fully recover, he swung at Blaine, but Blaine slipped aside effortlessly and struck him across the ribs with an open palm, a whipping motion rather than a punch. The blow wasn’t about brute force, but it was so precise that the air was knocked out of Colin’s lungs. He froze for a second, folding over in pain.

“Don’t come near her,” Blaine said quietly and firmly. His gaze was icy, a clear warning that one more wrong move would have consequences.

Completely losing control, Colin made one final lunge at Blaine. But before he could reach him, Blaine landed a perfectly coordinated punch to his jaw. The strike was sharp and powerful, and before Colin could even register what had happened, he crashed to the floor, breathing heavily and clutching his face.