He shakes his head then rests it on the back of his chair, staring up at the ceiling.

“Did he work?” I blurt out.

              “Who, my dad?” He starts to laugh. “If you want to call dealing and selling drugs work, then yes, he worked. My dad is one scary son of a bitch, Clove. Even now in his old age, he scares the shit out of me.”

              “Was he abusive to you too? I mean, when you were growing up?”

“Fuck, up until I could actually fight back, that prick slapped me around any time he fucking felt like it. One day I punched him hard enough that he actually fell on his drunken, drug-riddled ass.”

He chuckles grimly at the memory before going on.

“I was raised by a drunk and a drug addict, that’s all I have ever known. When I was old enough to start dealing and making my own money, I did. At the age of eighteen I thought I had it all, living the good life. The dough kept rolling in, right along with any and every kind of piece of ass I wanted. You wouldn’t believe the kinds of shit chicks would do just to get their next fix.”

My eyes go wide and I freeze. I feel like I the walls of the room are closing in on me. Shit! I have had unprotected sex with this man! He has been with God knows how many women and they have been with God knows how many men. The realization makes me want to vomit. Trent senses something is wrong; he inches closer to me and kneels on the floor alongside the bed.

“Clove, what is it? You’re as white as a ghost.”

              My hand comes up and covers my mouth. Oh, God!

“You fucker!” I scream as I remove my hand and shove him backwards.

              “Clove, what the fuck?” he growls, pulling himself up to his full height and towering over me.

“H-how many women have you slept with?” I shriek, my voice breaking in panic.

Understanding dawns on Trent’s face.

              “Clove, I swear to you! I have always used a condom with everyone except you. I may be a lot of things, but ignorant is not one of them. I am clean. If anything, you have to believe that.”

His eyes silently plead his case, asking for mercy. I have none to give as I gaze back at him with hatred. Finally, he looks away.

“I know my word means nothing to you, Clove. Believe me when I say I don’t blame you at all. You don’t think I see how much you hate me when you look at me? Don’t you see? That’s the hardest part of this whole, fucked up mess,” he says, looking down at his side dejectedly.

What does he mean by that?

“Hate isn’t even a strong enough word for what I feel for you. I don’t think one even exists, Trent, but if there was I would multiply it a million times over, that I can assure you.”

“Like I said, I don’t blame you at all. I hate myself for what I have done to you, Clove. I have been obsessed with you since the first time I laid eyes on you a few years ago.”

I am so taken back by what he just said that I jump off the bed in shock.

              “Jesus Christ! You mean to tell me you have been following us for over two years? What the fuck is wrong with you?” I scream loudly.

“Keep your damn voice down! You said you were going to listen to me, so sit back down and listen, because I am far from fucking done!”

He then sits in silence for a moment, as if he is choosing his next words carefully.

“For the first few months, all I did was follow you around. I was so caught up in your beauty and innocence. I had never seen a woman carry herself with such grace and confidence in my whole life. Every time I saw you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, I wanted it to be my hands doing it for you. Seeing the way your face would light up whenever you would look at my brother would have me lying in bed at night pretending it was me instead of him. And fuck me for being the perverted prick that I am, but every time I would hear you moaning out your pleasure as I stood at the foot of your stairs listening to you making love with my brother, my hands would inch towards my gun, because I wanted so badly to climb those stairs and kill him as I screamed out that you were mine. Not his, not anyone else’s. Just mine.”

My head slowly starts to shake back and forth as I realize he is speaking the God’s honest truth for the first time since I have met him. He thinks he loves me? He has no clue what love really means. One minute he is raping me and beating the shit out of me, and the next he is telling me he wants me to be his alone. What the hell? This twisted motherfucker sitting before me has lost his damn mind.

Choosing my next words carefully is not easy. I cannot even begin to fully process what he has just confessed to me. The man has stalked me, broken into my home, and listened to my husband and me in our most intimate moments. He has invaded my life in a warped and disturbing way, and yet he sits there and feels comfortable coming clean about his feelings for me. What the hell kind of game is he playing at?

“Say something, Clove. Anything. Just say something.”

I stare blankly at him. After what he has just thrown at me, I am supposed to say something?

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Trent. Do you understand the absurdity of what you are saying to me? Do you actually hear yourself right now? When one person cares for another, they don’t do the vile and heartless things to that person that you have done, Trent. They don’t beat them and they sure as hell don’t rape them! Look at me! Look at what you have done! You have destroyed me. I’m broken beyond repair.”

Trent rakes his hands through his hair in frustration.

“I told you, that wasn’t me back there in my truck earlier! And as far as smacking you around and the brutal things I said to you at your house, I panicked. I had to do what I had to do to make you listen to me. Look, Clove, I don’t think you get what I am saying here. I am saying that you and I could have the world at our feet with this money. If you would just listen to my plan, we could escape from here and no one would ever find us.”

I just gape at him with my mouth hanging open at the sheer audacity of this piece of shit. Does he actually think I would leave my husband and run away with him? I could never love a man like him, let alone run away with him and live my life on the lam. What kind of life would that be? There is no amount of money in this entire fucked up world that we live in that could ever make me want to do that.

The silence hanging in the air between us becomes uncomfortable as Trent waits for me to speak. As I continue to say nothing, he begins to plead with me.

              “Listen, please. I have a plan. If you help me and it works out, this plan could save Turner’s life. After all of these years of my father drilling into me over and over again how much my mother hated me, I know it’s not true. It’s not. He doesn’t deserve a dime of this money, not one red cent. He deprived me of a normal, loving childhood with my mother and my brother, and my plan is to kill him.”

Wait, what? Kill James? I don’t know if Trent is trying to mind-fuck me or if he actually believes what he is saying. All I do know is that the only way I am going to have any shot at all of getting Turner and myself away from this madness is by pretending to go along with whatever maniacal plan Trent has concocted.

I don’t feel at all remorseful at the fact that Trent is planning to kill his father. He is the one who has orchestrated all of this and as far as I am concerned, he can burn in the hottest fires of hell for what he has done. He sounds even more screwed up than Trent is. If he loathes Turner, who is his own child, I can only imagine what he thinks of me. What might he try to do when we come face to face?