Stolen Fate

by S. Nelson

  Well, how can I argue with that?

  { Chapter 33 }

  After Drayden has taken me twice, staying true to his word and making me cry out his name in pleasure, he decides it’s a good time to try and get me talking.

  We’re lying in his bed, snuggling tightly together in post-coital bliss when he asks me the one question I’ve been dreading.

  “I want you to tell me what happened to you. When you were younger and living in those foster homes.” I tighten in his embrace and he knows he’s going to have to coax those answers from me. I’m partially afraid once I tell him my last remaining secret, he’ll feel different about me. But more than that, I just don’t want to relive those memories. I’ve done such a good job at burying them deep down, I’m afraid what will happen once I bring them up to the surface again.

  “I don’t think I…” He cuts me off with a firm hold against my waist and a soft, sweet kiss to my temple.

  “You can,” he says before kissing me again. “And you will. The more you keep things bottled up, Essie, the bigger the mess is to clean up when you finally explode. Trust me; I know what I’m talking about.” He turns me around so we’re facing one another. “You don’t think I had the same reservations talking about what happened to Elizabeth? Because I did. But now, I’m relieved to have gotten everything out into the open between us. I feel as if a small weight has been lifted. I don’t want any secrets between us, now or ever.” He lifts my chin, lowers his head and kisses my lips in reassurance. “So, please tell me what happened. You’re safe with me, Ess. Trust me.”

  There is no getting out of this. He isn’t going to let me go until I tell him what happened to me all those years ago. I could lie to him--that’s always a possibility--but he’ll see right through my bullshit. No, it’s better to just be honest with him. Maybe I can experience a slice of comfort knowing my story’s out there and not hidden deep within me still, trying to pry its way out of my deep-seated memory.

  Taking a deep breath, I rest my head on his chest and start telling him everything I can remember. I don’t want to look into his eyes when I tell him because I don’t want to witness the flicker of pity or disappointment or whatever emotions he is sure to feel.

  “As I mentioned before, I never knew who my parents were. I heard rumors while I was growing up they were drug addicts and had landed in prison, but I didn’t know for sure. And there came a point where I didn’t even care. Whatever the reason was, they abandoned me. They left me with no one, and that was all I had to focus on.” I stop briefly to take a nervous breath before continuing.

  “Anyway, I bounced from group home to foster home and back and forth my entire childhood. I enrolled in numerous schools, never really fitting in because I was always so angry. I was expelled a few times for acting out, so as you can imagine I never really developed any kind of normal relationship with anyone, child or adult. But it wasn’t until I hit puberty that I really started to become withdrawn.” When I dare to look into his face, I see he’s confused as to why I would mention puberty. He’ll realize soon enough, so I continue. “I developed early,” I say, almost as if I’m embarrassed all over again. “I gained the attention of all the boys and even some of the men who were in my life. I saw the way they looked at me, daring to even try and grope me when they thought they could get away with it.” Drayden’s arm tightens around me, and I know he’s upset; I can only hope it isn’t directly at me. “The girls hated me because I drew their boyfriends’ attention and they just couldn’t compete. Trust me, I didn’t want it; not until I was much older and knew I could use my body and my looks to my advantage.”

  Hearing me say I did that must be a fresh swipe to his still-healing emotional wound. I take another breath both for my benefit and his. I need to gather my bearings because the worst part of my story is next.

  After a minute or two passes, he mumbles, “Go on,” before clutching me tighter to his body.

  “When I was fifteen years old, I was placed in yet another foster home. There was what appeared to be a pretty nice couple and a boy around my age living there. His name was Adam, and at first he didn’t pay me any attention, which I was eternally grateful for. But then for some reason, one day, it all changed. I was walking out of the bathroom in my oversized robe when I ran into his father in the hallway. I mean, I literally ran smack dab right into him. He had to grab hold of me to steady me, but instead of letting me go, he drew me in closer, close enough for me to smell the alcohol on his breath. The dark look in his eyes frightened me. Before I could shrug free from him, he pressed his lips against mine and tried to force his tongue in my mouth. I fought against him, but it only spurred him further. He threw me against the nearest wall, smashing my head against it before starting to paw at me. I was so terrified he was going to rape me that once I got my voice, I started screaming. I not only startled him with my yells but I angered him even more. He struck me so hard I instantly fell to the floor, tasting the blood on my lip from where he had hit me.

  “But it wasn’t until he disappeared that I noticed his son staring at me from his bedroom door. He saw the whole thing yet he didn’t do anything. He didn’t yell. He didn’t rush out to help me. Nothing. He gave me a death glare before slamming his door. I couldn’t understand his anger toward me. That is, until I found out his father was sleeping with everything in sight. His mother found out and was filing for divorce, therefore breaking up his precious little family. He blamed me, too. He thought I encouraged his father, that I wanted what he did to me.”

  Drayden is so angry; I can feel it in every tense muscle of his body. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. This is why I wanted to keep this buried for all eternity. I didn’t want him to think the same thing everyone else thought of me, that I wanted any of it. I try to get up from the bed, to tear myself away from him, but he only holds me firmer. I look up at him and see the rage building. He’s trying his best not to explode and when he sees my attention is on him, he just growls, “Finish. The. Story.”

  I take another deep breath and continue with the rest of my pitiful story. “When his father didn’t bother with me for the next week, I thought I was out of harm’s way, chalking up his behavior to him being drunk. But as soon as I let my guard down, that’s when Adam struck. He was waiting for me one afternoon when I got home from school. I walked into the house to him and one of his friends playing a video game. At first I didn’t think anything of it, walking past them to go to my bedroom. But a few minutes later, my door was pushed open and both boys walked inside, leering at me as they approached. I tried to play it off, asking them how their game was, trying not to let on how terrified I was in that moment. But they didn’t engage me back, instead crushing the space between us.

  “When I tried to walk past them, Adam’s arm shot out and grabbed my wrist so tightly I thought he was going to break it. His friend grabbed my other wrist and they both pushed me down on the bed before they hiked my skirt up and tried to tear my underwear from me. I screamed, but one of their hands covered my mouth to stifle me. I tried to tell them to stop, to let them know they were hurting me, but neither one of them was paying any attention to anything other than what they were doing to me. His friend held both of my arms down while Adam raped me, over and over. Then once he was finished with me, his friend climbed on top until he got his fill. I was left there, lying in my own shame and guilt, surrounded by their semen and my blood, trying to understand what had just happened. They stole my innocence from me that day.”

  “Did you ever tell anyone what happened to you?” he asks me, still trying to comprehend everything I just told him.

  “No. No one would have believed me and I knew it. So after I showered and collected what little things I had in my possession, I took off, never to return to any foster home or group home ever again. I lived on the streets, and as terrifying as it was sometimes, I was fortunate not to have to endure anything like that again. So as you can imagine, I had to hustle my way through life to
get the simplest of needs met. I begged on the streets. I stole to survive, but it was all worth it if it meant I didn’t have to go back to being in the presence of pure evil, disguised as an attractive boy with a lecherous heart.”

  “Has he ever bothered you again?” Drayden looks like he is about to lose his shit, and my slight hesitation does nothing to calm the brewing storm. I take a few deep breaths and tell him the truth.

  “Yes.” I look away quickly but return my gaze to his eyes, looking for the strength I need. “I ran into him a couple years ago when I was coming out of a hotel a few miles from where I lived. He must have been following me because I don’t think it was a chance meeting. Anyway, he tried to drag me into a nearby alleyway, yelling that I owed him for destroying his life. But before he could accomplish anything, I struck him hard enough for his grasp to loosen, and I found my chance to escape.” I’m surprised there isn’t smoke billowing from Drayden’s ears by this time. “And I haven’t seen him since.”

  What I failed to mention to him was the fact that before I got away, I heard Adam yell something about getting his revenge. Yeah, I left that part out because it wouldn’t do any good to examine it right now. Not for either one of us.

  I can’t speak anymore; I’m drained. I don’t even realize I’m crying until the pad of his thumb wipes away my salty tears. Something switches in me and all of a sudden, I’m afraid to look up at him again. I try to pry his arms away from my body. I want to get as far away from him as possible, but he’s making it physically difficult for me.

  “Essie, stop,” he bites out before rising onto his knees. He’s peering down at me through his rage-clouded eyes. I still my movements when I see the way he’s looking at me. And since I don’t want to make him angrier, I do what he asks. I stop trying to get away from him.

  But he doesn’t speak, not for a few minutes. I look away, but he brings my face back toward him. He’s making me uncomfortable now. If he hates me or is ashamed of me, why doesn’t he just leave? Why is he dragging this torture out longer than it needs to be?

  I can’t take the silence anymore. “What do you want from me, Drayden? Do you think I wanted that to happen to me?” I turn my head to the side, letting more tears coat my cheek. “Do you think I deserved it? Because you can go to Hell, too, if that’s how you feel.”

  “What?” His voice sounds out with such hurt, I instantly have to make eye contact with him. “Do you honestly think the look on my face is for you? Because it’s not. It’s for what happened to you. I could rip them all from limb to limb with the rage boiling up inside me, Essie.”

  “So, you don’t hate me then?”

  “Why in the hell would I hate you? If anything, I love you now more than ever. You trusted me enough to tell me the truth, and you have no idea what that means to me, baby.” Before I can say anything, he drags me off the bed to stand in front of him. We’re both naked, in every sense, and when his arms wrap around me, I feel the safety I’ve been missing my entire life. He is my home, and the fact he’s still here for me is more than I could have ever hoped for. I was so fearful in telling him what happened, I had put an invisible distance between us. But now, that distance is gone, only to be replaced by pure love.

  Just when I’m starting to relax, realizing the worst is over and done with, I feel his body tense and start to pull away from me. I’m confused, looking up at him and prompting him to let me in on his sudden change.

  “What’s the matter?” I ask, not really sure if I’m prepared for his answer.

  He drops his hold on me and takes a few steps back. Nervous hands rake through his already-disheveled hair, looking more like a man on the verge than someone who was comforting me not two seconds ago.

  “Jesus Christ, Essie,” he says through gritted teeth. “Why the fuck did you have me force you the first time? Especially since you’ve been through it before?” He retreats back a few more steps, his eyes wild and confused. “I can’t believe I did that to you. What you must think of me,” he mumbles before closing his eyes and lowering his head.

  Oh, no. I don’t want him to bear any guilty feelings whatsoever about what I tricked him into the first night we were together. I take full responsibility. He was just a pawn in my very deceitful game.

  One which changed both of our lives forever.

  “Please, don’t do that, Drayden. I know that night was consensual. I wanted you to do it…to trick you,” I say as I look away in shame. My cheeks burn red while reliving the embarrassment of it all. I’ve changed so much from the woman who tricked the man she now loves. “You didn’t hurt me, so please don’t think otherwise. What happened between us and what happened to me when I was young are worlds apart. So different.” I’m pleading with him to believe me, to not give it a second thought. “Besides, it was probably the nicest you treated me in those first few months.” I’m quickly trying to lighten the mood, distracting him from his sporadic outburst.

  “Not funny,” he replies before walking back over to me. He’s starting to settle down now, sensing what I’m telling him is the absolute truth.

  “I love you, Drayden.” The words come out of my mouth before I can even think about it. My heart is exploding and I need to say the words before I break apart.

  His eyes lock with mine, as if he is memorizing my face or something. “I love you, too, Essie. Now and forever.”

  And right there, in his bedroom, my past dies and is replaced with a future with this unwavering man.

  { Chapter 34 }

  “Why won’t you agree to move in with me, Essie?” He paces back and forth, trying to regain some of his composure. “You are so infuriating, woman.”

  “Well, right back at‘cha, buddy.” Now I’m doing a little of my own pacing, trying to find the right words to calm him down. “It’s only been six months, Drayden. That’s not enough time to take such a big step.”

  “You lived with me before, so what’s the big deal?”

  “First of all, I was forced to live with you in the beginning. Then after…” I stumble over my next words before continuing. “After everything which happened, you were gracious enough to let me stay for a month while I got back on my feet. So no part of it was a normal living arrangement.”

  Knowing I’ve spoken the truth, he’s quiet for a few minutes. And what I think is him silently agreeing with me is actually him coming up with more of an argument. “There is nothing stopping you from moving back in here except for your stubbornness. What are you afraid of, Essie? Why won’t you make me happy and live with me?”

  I want to live with him; I really do. I’m just hesitant of giving up my newly-found independence. He paid for my rent and bills for the first two months but I took over as soon as I had enough money to do so, paying him back every last cent. I actually had to sneak the check into his desk drawer because he wouldn’t take it from me. He still hasn’t cashed it, but I don’t pay attention. I paid him back and that’s all there is to it.

  This is the first time in my entire life I’ve held down a job (which I absolutely love), have a nice place of my own and people around me I truly consider my family. I don’t want to jinx anything. But how do I explain that to him so he’ll understand it?

  “I need more time, Dray. Please. I don’t want to ruin anything when it’s actually going pretty well.”

  “Pretty well?” His face scrunches as if he just tasted something horrible. “I would describe us as more than doing pretty well, don’t you think?” He’s actually pissed at my choice of words. I should stop trying to read him or predict what he’ll say or do next, because it’s just plain useless and a waste of my mental energy.

  But I can’t help myself. I want to poke the bear, so I start teasing him. Anything to take his mind off his relentless pursuits of me moving back into this house.

  I plop down on the couch, but not before I leisurely walk over to one of the many shelves in the library and choose a random book. I take my time, stretching out on the supple leather, adjusting on
e of the many throw pillows until it’s comfortably behind my back. I slowly open the binding of the book. Drayden is standing over near his desk and even though I don’t glance in his direction, I know, no, I feel him glaring at me. I’m smiling on the inside because he is so easy to rile up.

  Trust me; I’ve definitely had enough experience in this category.

  “I don’t know,” I say, letting out an over-exaggerated sigh. “Pretty well is an accurate description.” I dare to look back in his direction and it takes everything in me not to bust out laughing. He’s leaning back against his desk, ankles crossed and gripping onto the dark wood so tight his knuckles are turning white. Boy, is he wound tight today. “What? You really don’t think so? I mean, I don’t know any other way to describe this…” I motion back and forth between us, “…thing we got going on.”

  His mouth drops open and I think he’s ready to explode, but then he catches the tiny smirk gracing my mouth. And just when I know he’s catching on to my game, I wink. Before I can even move a muscle, he’s on me. His body is smoldering above mine, making me think I’ll have to do this more often in order to get this kind of reaction from him.

  He is smiling down at me, shaking his head. “You think you’re cute, don’t you?” he asks as he reaches forward and digs his fingers into my sides, tickling me until I’m writhing around trying to get away from him.

  When there is a quick break from his teasing, I say, “I know I’m cute.” He proceeds to tickle me again until I’m gasping for my next breath. “Stop…please. No more. I…I can’t breathe.”

  “All right. All right. I’ll stop, but you have to promise me you’ll never trivialize our relationship again, Essie. Not even in jest.” Great. Now he’s back to being serious.