My words are rushed and explode from my mouth and I push it out before I lose my nerve, before my wife can’t take anymore, and before I become so angry I need to punch the wall or break something... like my head. “He’d just appear in St. Louis, out of the blue, with those fucking beady eyes and evil smile. Licking his lips as a signal he wanted me, alone. He’d touch me, and I’d throw up, he’d make me suck him off, and I’d choke and cry, and then he’d fuck me, and I’d scream, but no one ever heard me, and if they did, they just went on with their business like it was an everyday event for Paul Jameson. And fucking David’s sons, Paul’s bodyguards, they knew, they were part of it. I hope they’re getting theirs in prison. And your father, he really messed me up, letting everyone have his or her way with me, and I just had to take it like I was some toy, everybody’s blow-up doll. I was never allowed to touch any of them. Hell no. I was everyone’s plaything, their little Star. It fucked with my head. And now where am I? What am I? I’m an adult lost in these memories. Running away and shouting for a way out. If he’s dead why does he still haunt my life... my mind? I can’t get him out of my head. My only escape back then was to drink. Still is today, but Paul set me up with all that shit... here Star, you little fuck, do a shot... now another... see how relaxed that makes you. Now open your mouth and blow me. That asshole. And then he’d send for us, me and his other boy toys; we’d get escorted to Vegas for parties, sold, beaten, sucked, and fucked. Goddammit!” I yell.
“Cove, breathe for a moment. Please, slow down,” she whispers and straddles my hips. “I’m proud of you, what you’re doing right now makes you the strongest man alive, but don’t get trapped in your head. Take a breath and return to me for a second so you don’t lose control and have a complete meltdown.” She runs her hands along my chest, messaging my tense muscles. I follow her deep breaths as she offers comfort and leads me back to her heart.
“I mentally collapsed a few hours ago, bawled my eyes out at the Scarlett, and now I’ve got nothing left but my usual hatred inside. You’d think I’d start to sob again talking ‘bout all this shit, but I can’t. I’m too exhausted. Just empty.”
Her eyes continue to tear as she nods. “It’s okay, say what you need to say, and I’ll cry for you,” she smiles tenderly, trying to ease my pain.
“It’s not supposed to be his way; you being the strong one in this relationship. I always thought I’d be able to shelter you from all of this, be the one to take care of you and not the other way around.”
“You do take care of me and don’t you ever doubt that, but we’re a team. When I break down, you’re my fucking rock. I should be able to do the same for you.” She brushes my hair away from my eyes as her warm body descends next to mine. “You broke down earlier because of all of this, and not about your father or the other things going on?”
I rub my eyes with my forefinger and thumb, and nod.
“So this is in your head more so today than other days because of your shrink appointment?”
I sigh knowing that I need to lie to her again. I’d hate for her to know just how much my mental state has deteriorated, and she hasn’t a clue that I’ve been suicidal in recent weeks. It’s not the shrink appointment. Paul’s always lurking, especially when I look into her eyes... his eyes. “Yes,” I finally respond.
“I understand it was the first time seeing this guy, but do you have any sense if he might be able to help you?”
For her sake, I hope so. “Maybe, but then again, talking to you may’ve helped. I won’t know if I feel better from my sessions for a while.”
Tiny embers remain in the fireplace as our naked bodies are being enveloped by the darkness of the night. I raise my hand and look at my splinted fingers, sigh, and rub my eyes once again.
“I smell alcohol on your breath... how much?” she whispers.
“A few swigs, not enough to change my mood.”
“Well, you seem a little calmer now. I guess it’s fair to say the talking is helping, and since you weren’t drinking heavily, it wasn’t the alcohol that worked this time. You wanna tell me more?”
“Yeah? Will you stop me again if I start to lose control... keep me from falling off a cliff?” Her lips brush softly over mine and I inhale deeply from her delicate, loving response.
“I will. I’ll keep you safe. Nothing like this will ever happen to you again, I promise. We’ve had our share of evil for one lifetime, now let’s start to put all of this to rest. Tell me anything and I’ll help you chase the memory away, then tell me something else and we’ll open the door to the terrace and force it outside... the more you give, the more I’ll take. Remember that. I’m going to share your pain and fears so you’re no longer in this alone. Okay?”
“Yes,” my voice cracks as I fight back the tears from her moving words. Damn, I didn’t think I’d cry again today, but hearing the compassion she has for me, for this situation, and feeling her warmth; it’s unreal. “I’m glad you agreed to give a shitbag like myself a chance.”
“Well, I think it’s incredible that you’re finally opening up, and I say that not for your sake only. I need this too, you know?”
Her hands flow over my abdomen, sometimes grazing across my dick, and then down my legs and back to my stomach. She’s gentle with her touch, allowing me a moment to take rejuvenating breaths before I dive back into my twisted life.
I try my best to leave out the grisly details, but even my toned-down accounts make her wince. Especially when I open up about Paul’s dominant play.
“He forced me to masturbate in front of him and choked me out... pressed on my carotid artery until I was unconscious, and then did it again, over and over until I came. He’d grin and say, ‘I love to watch your eyes go lifeless, someday I’ll keep you in that dark place.’”
“Dear God,” she shies away in her softest voice.
It must be torture for her to hear these things about her father, and even more so, her husband. The pain in my heart tells me to back off. She doesn’t need to go through this shit, and yet for myself, what a sweet release. And she said she needs it as well. There’s a rope in my mouth that Soph’s tugging on, and little by little her father’s body and words are being pulled, kicking and screaming from my gut.
“Sometimes I thought the shithead loved me merely because he kept me alive. After a couple of years I was brainwashed into believing love meant giving my body to him. I mean; if the sick bastard didn’t beat me or kill me after he fucked me, then he must’ve loved me, right? And giving him what he wanted always made him happy, except when it didn’t, and those moments were the worst.”
I don’t expect a response, but hear a sniffle and feel tears as her body shakes in my arms. I pause and have to make a decision of whether or not to continue, with the possibility of causing her emotional damage, or hold it inside, maybe never having the balls to discuss any of this again.
She turns her head and kisses my forearm as a convincing sign of support. “I love you, don’t stop. You need this.”
“Alright,” I exhale. “In the beginning, if I made a mistake around Paul or didn’t give him the satisfaction of a pleasurable fuck then there’d be consequences. And he made sure the punishment included a good mindfuck. Like...” I swallow, unsure about my next words until a delicate hand brushes my cheek. She leaves a kiss and her sweet breath directs me to let go. “Like the first time he... when he...” I exhale. “When he put himself inside of me and tore...” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I got blood on his precious shirt. It drove him into a rage and I still can’t figure out why. Puke, and shit, and cum, or any other bodily fluids were okay, but not blood. And that’s when the first mindfuck happened.” I soak the pillow with tears while she lies on top of me with her legs and arms wrapped tightly around my body for security. “The sick beast put a tampon in me and made me believe it was the proper use for them. He said women buy plugs all the time for their asses because they love a good anal fuck... men too. He said it stops the blood. I was so confused. I hadn’t been around many women at that time, and had only heard from a few of my friends about the whole female period thing, but I didn’t know if they were joking, or ignorant, or what the hell was going on. I mean, why would women bleed out each month? It sounded like they were aliens, and Paul’s version made more sense. A total mindfuck, Soph. Your goddamn father... then I thought my mother got it in the ass all the time because she’d buy those things. It wasn’t until a year later that I wised up and read the instructions inside one of the boxes I had found in her bathroom. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He made me hate myself.”