Slut

by Jettie Woodruff

  “Come on. Ask her about the first time she met Paxton.”

  “Why? What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I just want to make sure I didn’t have anything to do with her hating sex,” Lane admitted. “You gotta erase this shit though. It was a long time ago.”

  “I’m not doing that, Lane. This was supposed to be about helping a girl enjoy sex with her husband. I don’t want to get involved in anything else.”

  “Can you make her forget that? Ask her about the next time she had sex,” Lane pressed, this time taking a seat, straddling a backward chair, right next to me.

  Paxton paused the video that time.

  I snapped a glance toward him and frowned. “What now?”

  “I don’t want to do this. Let’s stop.”

  My constricted eyes accused him of the secret next. “Why, Paxton?

  “This isn’t what I want you to remember. I hope you never remember that night.”

  “What night?”

  Paxton stood and ran his fingers through his hair. His body turned and his hands grasped the banister.

  I waited until his head dropped and hit play again. My eyes went back to my lifeless body, and then up to Paxton’s as he turned to me, crossed his arms, and then his ankles.

  “I’m going to ask you a few things that you won’t remember, okay, Gabby?” Nick continued against his will.

  “Okay, “I replied.

  “Ask her about the day she met Paxton. He told me she was just some slut that needed a place to stay. He said he fucked her the first day he met her. She wasn’t supposed to stick around. He wasn’t supposed to marry her,” Lane explained, voice anxious with a hoarseness caused by nerves.

  “What? I don’t even know what you just said, man.”

  “Ask her about the first time she met Paxton.”

  “Gabby, do you remember the day you met Paxton?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Can you tell me about it? Think about where you were, the sounds, was it warm out? Were you alone?”

  “I knew him before he knew me, sort of,” I explained.

  “Gabriella,” Paxton quietly said, one last attempt to hide yet another secret.

  I looked up, but I’m not sure what I was feeling. Confused as hell. “Why do I feel like this whole thing just backfired on you, Pax?”

  “Because it did. This was the furthest thing from my mind. What the fuck is this?”

  I didn’t reply. I turned back to the monitor with yet another what the fuck moment. Nothing could have prepared me for that one. No wonder Paxton wanted me to forget it. I spent the next twenty minutes reliving the moment I met Paxton. Nick asked my lifeless body what I meant, and my mind was blown.

  I walked for miles, trying to get as far away from Ms. Porter, my gang-infested neighborhood, and my past. I only wanted to run away from it all. Forget everything that hurt, including my sister who I was sure I’d never see again. This area was under construction, new homes being built in the suburbs close to the beach. I thought my luck had changed, that the little cottage sat empty, waiting for me to show up. It was perfect. Close to the beach, and private. Nobody lived there, but Paxton, and he was hardly ever there. He left for work early in the morning in an old black pick-up truck, and worked on the only house that had been there before the other new constructions.

  Even with my background, all the crap I’d just gone through, I felt like it was an omen. Like I was meant to find this empty house in an unoccupied neighborhood. Except for Paxton. The first few days I stayed in the shadows, never turning on the lights, and lurking in the shadows once he got home. The dark nights hid my silhouette while I stood right outside his windows and watched him work on the house. He was so handsome, so strong, and all alone. I think I fell in love with him the first time I saw him. He worked late into the night, woke early and left for work, and came home and did it again. The entire week. That’s all he did.

  Although I knew I would never concoct enough nerve to talk to him, I fantasized about him being my husband, and raising a family in that house. I spent hours reading my mother’s words, poems she’d written in a notebook, and dreaming. It was all I had. Visions of a life I would never have with a gorgeous man who would never want me, it got me through the first couple days after my attack.

  I was there for four days before he ever saw me, before I ever heard his voice. I wasn’t expecting him home so early. He wasn’t supposed to be home until later, like six, not five.

  He ran up behind, startling me from behind. “What are you doing here? This is a private beach. You staying with someone?” he questioned, eyes looking up the beach to the faraway homes.

  “My feet are in the water. You don’t own the ocean,” I snapped. My eyes looked up to his, and right back to my feet. Good Lord. His strong jawline, dark eyes, and his build, intimidated the hell out of me. I think I was afraid of him from the moment I met him, but it didn’t keep me from wanting him. I was fascinated. He wasn’t like the guys I was around. He worked, hard, and he was alone.

  “Two miles. From that rock-point, clear down past that little cottage. It’s all exclusive to Prescott Lane.”

  “Prescott Lane?” I questioned, eyes darting to his, and right back to my bare feet.

  “Look at me. You should look at people when they speak to you. Prescott Lane is that way. See the houses? This part of the beach is exclusive. Move along.” His voice was stern, matching his cocky attitude.

  “Sorry,” I said as I watched him walk away. He lifted his white t-shirt and wiped sweat from his forehead as he went about his business. His back was just as defined as the rest of him, and I noticed. Holy smokes.

  My eyes barely met Paxton’s when I felt him sit next to me. His hand took mine and he paused the movie again.

  “What, Paxton?”

  “I’m afraid for you to go any further.”

  I didn’t even bother trying to hide the sarcasm. “Obviously.”

  “Can I just tell you myself? Please.”

  “No, I don’t trust you. You’re going to tell me your way. I want to see it my way. I want to feel it like it happened, not some sugar coated lie.”

  “What do you think you’re going to hear, Gabriella?”

  I felt the rock in my hand pull toward his and then click. The thoughts of what I was about to learn came fast and furious, but nothing could have prepared me for that. Nothing at all. I hit the play button, taking in a breath at the same time Paxton did. I stayed in Paxton’s arms until I got to the part where he caught me in his cottage. It was late on a Saturday night, I was asleep in the bed in the corner when he unlocked the door. I didn’t even hear him until he was right over my bed. Paxton squeezed my hand and I braced myself for the worst while I listened to my faraway voice explain that Paxton had company, a guy he called Lane. I learned from hiding in the bushes that Lane was one of the homeowners, newly married, and there for the weekend to work on his own house. I listened to the two men talk about all the construction headaches while they drank a lot. I finally got tired sometime after midnight and snuck away.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Who the fuck are you? What are you doing in my house?”

  I jumped up and scooted to the corner, terrified. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t have anywhere to go.”

  “Where are you from? Wait, you know what? I don’t fucking care. Get out of here.”

  “Why? I’m not hurting anything. Nobody even lives here.”

  “You think you can just move into empty homes. Get up. Get the fuck out.”

  I jumped up and gathered what few things I had. My folded clothes on a chair, a tattered notebook filled with my mother’s crazy poems, and my toothbrush. That’s all I had. All I’d come with.

  “I don’t have anywhere to go,” I cried as my feet slid into my flip-flops, begging for him to let me stay. I took one step forward, but my feet didn’t move with me. I tripped, landing right in his arms. I knew at that moment, looking into his eyes, and fe
eling the way he held me that I would have done anything for him to want me. It was stupid, and probably had something to do with what had just happened to me. Maybe a daddy issue? I don’t know, but I wanted him to want me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty,” I lied. I was less than two months away from eighteen, but he didn’t have to know that.

  The strong stench of beer hit my nose when I looked up to his dark eyes, seeing something else. A look I’d seen before. I knew that look. Paxton smiled and ran his hand down both my arms. I didn’t even flinch when his thumb brushed my left breast, but I was sure he could feel my heartbeat.

  Paxton lifted my chin with one finger and made me hold his gaze. “How about I let you stay here for the weekend? I’ll help you out, and you help me. Sound like a plan? Hmm?”

  “I don’t have anywhere to go after the weekend either.”

  “Maybe we can work something out. Come on, let’s go up to my house.”

  He didn’t really give me a choice. I mean, I guess I didn’t fight him, but it wasn’t like I had any other offers. I’d done it before. I could do it, it’s what girls did, what was expected of us, what men wanted.

  Other than the waves lapping the sandy beach, our short walk was silent. I could hear music playing, but didn’t recognize the song. I didn’t really like country music. I liked the new pop, and classic rock. Jesus, I was about to pay Paxton for living in his house, and I was thinking about Avril Lavigne. I chastised myself for thinking about music when I looked up and saw him, my heart taking an instant dive to the bottom of my stomach.

  “Look what I found. She wants to play.” Paxton announced to this guy, his hands moving up my shirt.

  My breath caught when I realized what was about to happen, but I couldn’t help to notice the way his warm hands felt on my skin. Callused and rough, yet so tender. I didn’t push them away.

  “What? Who is that?” The guy questioned with a confused expression, drink in hand, something dark with ice.

  “Why don’t you tell my friend here what your name is,” Paxton coaxed from behind, hot words to the side of my neck. His lips felt amazing, and my body tried hard to react and fight it at the same time. I didn’t understand what was going on, but I was scared. I knew what was about to happen, but unlike the other times, I thought about doing a good job for him. That never happened before. I just wished the other guy wasn’t there. I was intimidated enough by one guy, never mind two. At least the other one seemed to be concerned about me. Maybe he’d leave. Maybe I could be good for him.

  Paxton turned me to face him when I didn’t answer, lifting my chin again with one finger. “You need to answer me when I talk to you. Now tell my friend here what your name is.”

  “Paxton, dude, what are you doing?”

  “What? She’s a slut. It’s what she does. I fucked her two hours after I met her,” Paxton lied while he kept my chin pinched between two fingers and my eyes on his. “Tell him. Tell my friend here what your name is, and then tell him how you and I are trading favors.”

  “I’m—I’m Gabby,” I meekly replied while looking toward Lane out of the corner of my eye, and right back to the floor.

  Paxton laughed and unzipped his jeans. “Get on your knees, slut,” he whispered while his lips met mine. I did it because I didn’t know I had a choice. I did it because he told me to.

  Lane protested a couple times, speaking about his wife he’d recently married, but in the end he was no different than Paxton. He did everything that Paxton did. He was the one to suggest the olive oil when Paxton couldn’t find anything else, and his spit wasn’t enough.

  I was numb, I didn’t feel a thing, and honestly, it wasn’t that bad. I focused on the sounds of the ocean behind me while Paxton and his friend used me for their pleasure. The worse part about it was the time it seemed to take them both to be finished with me. The neighbor guy went first. I was on my back, outside on a table while he stood between my legs. He grunted first, jerking his hips inside of me, and then pulled out. The rest of his load sprayed my stomach while Paxton’s coated my face.

  My eyes met Paxton’s while he hissed and shuddered above me, riding out the pleasurable waves. For a quick second, I thought I felt something, I thought he did. Like I was more than just a slut, but it was silly. I wasn’t. Not to him.

  “Get the fuck out of here,” Paxton ordered above me, shaking one last drip to my nipple.

  “She’s not going to tell anyone, is she?” Lane asked, suddenly worried about a wife he had forgotten that he had.

  I gathered my clothes, and walked away, hearing Paxton talk like he’d just helped him change a tire, like I was nothing more than that.

  “Nah, she knows better. I’m going to bed, man. I’ll catch you later.”

  I stood, wanting away from Paxton, taking my stone with me. “Turn it off.”

  “Gabriella.”

  “So, it was always like this, Paxton? I was always nothing to you? Just a slut?”

  “That was a long time ago. How was I supposed to know you were just ganged raped? I never knew that. You never told me that.”

  “Why would I? You just did the same thing.”

  “I never raped you. You could have said no.”

  “Fuck you. Oh my, God. I fucked Lane in front of you. No, let me rephrase that. It didn’t sound like I had much fun. You watched while Lane fucked me. I never had a choice. Did I, Paxton?”

  “You could have said no.”

  “I don’t want you. I don’t want anything to do with you. I’m so fucking stupid. You’ve never loved me, have you, Paxton?”

  Paxton stood and walked toward me, trying to smooth it all over with soft words and more lies. “Gabriella, I love you. I love you so much. Damn it. Why can’t you see that?”

  “Maybe because I’m nothing more than a slut to you. How many of our other neighbors did you pimp me out to?”

  “None. Stop, Gabriella. We have to talk about this, about all of it.”

  I pulled away when he tried to pull me to him. “Don’t touch me. We have nothing to talk about. Don’t touch me, don’t talk to me, and don’t fucking tell me you love me,” I said while my voice elevated.

  One last attempt to reel me in shattered in my ears as he quietly spoke. “Gabriella.”

  My hands went to his chest and I shoved hard when he came toward me. The way he opened his hands for me to come to him was my undoing. Lucky for him, I was a lot slower. His hand caught my fist mid-air, but I jerked away. “Don’t fucking touch me. Don’t you ever fucking touch me again.” I have no idea where the confidence came from, anger I guess. I felt like one of those mothers’ who could lift a car off their child. It may have been a suicide attempt, but I didn’t care. I was pretty sure I could take him. I would have gone bat shit crazy on him had he not let me go. I know I would have. That’s how mad I was.

  I stormed out of the room and to my own when he tried again. I didn’t want him to touch me.

  Ever again.

  Nine

  All I wanted to do was walk out that door and never look back. Take Rowan, Ophelia, and Vander far, far away from Paxton, away from the world. To a magical island like my mom had lied about. The one she said Izzy and I were born on, where peace surrounded us, and nobody could hurt us again. That’s what I cried myself to sleep with, thoughts of a better place. A place with no pain.

  I woke to the alarm on my phone, hands searching amongst the covers for the shrill noise. My eyes remained closed while I shut it off, thinking about the time. Six-thirty. Paxton would be expecting his breakfast in thirty minutes. Fat chance of that happening. I rolled to my side and curled into a little ball, but sleep never returned. If he thought for one second I was about to get up and send him off to work with a healthy breakfast, he was crazier than me. I didn’t get up. I lay there and thought about what I had learned. It only made me want to know the rest of the story, yet it didn’t. I should have let it go. I should have told Mi no.r />
  The sudden urge to cry took over when I felt the ache in my chest. My hands fisted the sheets as I rolled to my stomach, burying my face into my pillow, crying like a wounded bird. The sound of my whimper echoed through the quiet room as the pain moved to the pit of my stomach. It felt hurt like nothing I’d ever felt before. My broken body, a brain injury, and a loss of memory didn’t even hurt like that. I was devastated.

  Rage instantly took over all the agony when I felt his hand rub my back and his voice softly speak my name. “Gabriella?”

  My bare feet hit cool hardwood in a split second. “Don’t say my name like that. Don’t say my name period.”

  “I don’t know how to fix this.”

  “You never cared about me. Ever. Where’s Rowan’s mom? Why isn’t she in her life?”

  “I’ll tell you everything you want to know. I can’t lose you, Gabriella.”

  The bed kept me from ripping his face clean off his head. “You already lost me. Where is she?”

  “Texas.”

  “Why?”

  Paxton shrugged his shoulder and replied with a stupid answer. “She lives there.”

  Words spewed from my mouth as quick as the tears ran down my cheeks. “Fuck you, Paxton. Tell me. Tell me why she doesn’t see Rowan. Tell me why she just walked out of her life like that. Stop with all the fucking lies. Tell me.”

  His eyes left mine and moved to the floor, but not one explanation came out of his mouth. Not even a lie.

  “You wouldn’t let her, would you? You kept her from seeing Rowan. Didn’t you, Paxton? Is that how it was? You walked all over her too, didn’t you? Only she sacrificed her only child to get away from your controlling ass. Is that how it was Paxton? She left you, so you punished her with Rowan?”

  Still no words, but the truth is, I didn’t need them. The silence was enough, and I knew that I was right. Rowan’s mom got the hell away from him. The smart one. That’s what she was. I was the idiot, the stupid little fish, feeding off his hook, the one who spent the last six years of my life in hell with a man who had his own mommy and daddy issues. Ones that I would never know about, because he would lie.