If you’ve already read Damaged Girls I, then these emotions should be familiar. The Damaged Girls Family & Relationship Series began with an introduction to the complex love triangle of Steven Briggs, Jillian McConnell and Jessica Rodney. In the second book of the series, Damaged Girls II, get pulled deeper into the trauma and gain valuable knowledge of why Jillian and Jessica might be such easy targets for a womanizer such as Stevie. Jillian has to come to terms with the crumbling idea of love that she desperately needed to find in Stevie. And Jessica is forced to grow up and away from the man she so badly wanted to keep forever. Stevie even realizes that he needs to get a grip on the drama he created years back; while his decisions and behaviors continue to spiral deeper into selfishness. Unfortunately, Stevie’s insatiable appetite has not diminished, only causing him to become less likeable.
Will the three ever learn? As life progresses, we must confront our past, move into our present and plan sensibly for our future. How will Stevie, Jillian and Jessica cope, when life just can’t seem to smile in favor of their original desires? Damaged Girls is not a romance novel outlined in love. It is not pleasant and idealistic, but very cruel and extremely unsavory. In fact, it is deep and rather dark at times. The story focuses on emotional, physical and sexual abuse, and how easily its effects can cause some to own the title of Damaged Girls.
“Don’t get upset. You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” His mode was blatant and pompous. “I know I did. Thanks, Jessie.” He tapped her backside. She flipped over and lunged at him. Stevie was not surprised, so he was well prepared to fend her off with a sidestep. She crashed onto the carpeted floor with a light thump. Yet he stood over her, then reached down to offer a hand.
Dignity and false pride would not allow her to take it. She made it on her own. Jessica still had fight in her as she forced her strength. “I still own you.” The words were loud, as if volume proved their truth. Stevie’s only response was to walk towards the closet. She ran behind to pound on his back.
Upon hearing the footsteps, he spun around and captured her neck. “Didn’t you already get enough of me? Didn’t you?” Flames of hatred, and desire, reflected from his dangerous eyes. As he led her to the bed in a tight single-armed grip, he was the devil in disguise. “Leave me alone, Jessica.” He was calm, very calm. She saw this and seized on what little deceptive defense she had. Underneath his chokehold, and within her pipes, she gathered what little saliva she could and took part in a nasty trifling game. Though little shot into his face, the meaning sank in. Stevie let her go, and he stood before her, staring straight ahead.
Rather than run, hide, or cower, Jessica stood brave and tall. She took over his role and now mocked him. “You are nothing!” The words meant nothing to Jessica, but they were her only weapons at the moment. “You’re a piece of gar-bage.” The nastiness reappeared as she spat into his face. This time the liquid was potent and filled with the grime of a full day’s starvation. Satisfaction stood at the center of her skin. Her nipples stood erect—she was all too pleased with herself as she peppered him further. “Nothing!”
Jessica was fearless, and she did not expect Stevie’s next move. From far in the past, reaching through years of Spanish, Amerindian and African ancestors, Stevie called up his heritage. He reached into the heart of who he was, from his past, and presented the strength of every fight his nations had ever endured. Stevie not only slapped Jessica clear into the wall, he also placed the box of a lifetime on the right side of her beautiful face.