100 PROOF

by Shanora Williams

  “You can’t give me shit,” I spat at him. “You have no job. No money. All you do is mooch off of Mom and suck her dry like the disgusting, sloppy leech you are!”

  His eyes spread wide, and then a heavy hand came down on my cheek. The slap was loud, the entire left side of my face feeling like it’d been set on fire. I crumpled sideways, landing on the edge of the bed with a sharp yelp.

  “You and your smart mouth! I swear I’m gonna make you learn!” He bent down to grab my thighs, shoving them apart and stepping between my legs.

  “Get off of me!” I screamed.

  “Don’t think that just because you’re my daughter that I won’t teach you the same way I teach your mother!” One of his hands came up and gripped my wrist.

  My bag was pressed down on my chest, tangling my other arm. I couldn’t free myself, and I panicked when I heard his belt buckle jingle. He tore at his jeans, looking down at me with a savage glare.

  He bared his teeth and shoved his pants down with one hand, pressing his penis on my upper thigh. “You feel that, Marlena? It’s about to be your punishment. I’ll fuck some respect into you, if that’s what you need.”

  Something was vibrating and buzzing in my bag. It was my cellphone. Vin was calling. I screamed as I squirmed and thrashed beneath him, throwing my legs. He clutched one of them tight, holding it in place, still rubbing his penis on me.

  Tears had already lined the side of my face, but I didn’t stop fighting. Not even when he slapped me. Not even when he tried to choke me. With his hand locked around my throat, he started kissing me on my cheeks, my chin, and even my neck. His lips were crusty and hard, his penis getting harder and harder by the second.

  When he tried to come up and kiss my lips, I spat in his face.

  He acted like he didn’t even feel it, and I panicked even more, my chest feeling heavier, my blood running cold. He was a filthy animal—a pig.

  Luke had done a lot of things. He’d pushed me around, hit me, mentally and physically abused me, and maybe he did touch me in ways he shouldn’t have—but this? I never thought he would go so far as to rape me. I should have known he would try one day. He didn’t look at me like I was his daughter. He never had.

  He looked at me like he was a fox, and I was the prey. He looked at me like he would have killed to be inside me, to touch me the way he touched Mom. He was fucked in the head, and I hated him.

  “I will make you learn, Marley,” he said, inching higher. He was trying to get closer, trying to take my panties off with the hand creeping up my thigh.

  The vibrating on my chest stopped. Luke was getting closer and closer to his target, his fingers touching places they shouldn’t have as hot, thick tears swarmed my eyes.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling powerless. Useless. I swear I could hear Vin’s voice in my head.

  He was calling for me.

  He was near.

  Luke was so close, but before he could get there, his eyes grew wide and he was yanked off of me. His back hit the wall with a loud thud and I sprang up, spotting a familiar person standing above him.

  Vinny.

  He bent down, snatching Luke up by the back collar of his shirt and slamming his back into the wall again.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Luke shouted.

  Vin didn’t answer. Instead, he brought a fist up and slammed it straight into Luke’s face with a loud, savage snarl. Luke’s nose gushed with blood, and Vin let him go. Luke’s body sagged, dropping to the ground, and Vin punched him again, one good time across the jaw. I heard the crack of bone as Luke fell face down on the floor, unsure if it was Vin that was hurt, or him.

  “Vin!” I shouted, freeing my arm and rushing towards him. He caught me in his arms and then hissed.

  “Shit,” he cursed beneath his breath.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, breathless.

  He held up his hand and touched it. “Probably fractured,” he mumbled. Then he shook his head, gripping my chin with his good hand. “What the fuck is going on, Marlena? Who is he?”

  I blinked down at an unconscious Luke, his pants halfway down. It felt like my throat had been filled with cotton balls. This was the part of me I didn’t want Vin to know.

  I didn’t want him to know my home was in shambles. I didn’t want him to know that my father was abusive and that my mother was useless. I wanted him to think I was strong in every way—even if it meant being strong here.

  I’d told him once, while we were drunk, that if I ever took too long to come out, to come inside for me—that it probably meant something was wrong. I was so glad he remembered.

  “Marley?” he called, eyes serious, roaming my face. “Did he—did he hurt you? Your face. It’s swollen.” He stroked the side of my face that stung. I winced. Like he hated the idea of me being touched, his jaw locked. “Who is he?” he demanded again.

  “M-my dad,” I answered, voice shaky, and Vin’s eyes stretched wide. It wasn’t shock that I saw. It was anger—like he knew this kind of pain himself. Like he wanted to murder someone.

  He turned his head, glaring down at Luke who was sprawled out on the floor, blood running from his nose. “Let’s go before I end up killing him,” he growled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

  “Your hand? Is it okay?” I asked as we walked down the hallway.

  “It’s fine. It’s just my forefinger. I’ll put ice on it, see a doctor in the morning.”

  I didn’t say anything after that. I felt the need to explain, but what could I say? There was no explanation for what went on back there. I knew it. Vin knew it, and I was glad he didn’t pressure me for details right away.

  Instead, he helped me into the passenger seat, took my bag, and shut the door. When he put my bag in the trunk and came to the driver’s seat, he started the car up right away and pulled away from the house, all with his left hand.

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he asked. It was a simple question that could have meant anything. I knew what he was really asking. Why hadn’t I ever told him that things were this fucked up with me? Why hadn’t I ever told him that my father was the way he was?

  I could handle Luke before . . . up until this night.

  “I don’t know,” I finally responded as he pulled onto the freeway.

  Vin sighed, gripping the wheel tighter. I side-eyed him, and his jaw was flexing. I couldn’t look at him fully. I could feel the anger radiating off of him. I turned and looked out of the window as the bright lights passed by in a flashy blur.

  “You aren’t going back to that house,” he said after several minutes of silence.

  “All of my stuff is there.”

  “Me and Zay will get whatever you need us to get, but you aren’t going back.”

  “Where will I stay? I can’t just go out and buy my own place, Vin. Trust me, if I could, I would have done so years ago.”

  “You’ll stay with me.” I put my focus on him as the streetlights flashed across his face, waiting to call his bluff.

  But he meant it. His word was true and final. For some reason, I couldn’t even argue about it. I had been looking for a way out for so long. Staying with Vin would have been a change for sure. I knew things could change between us, moving this fast, but it was worth risking rather than going back to that broken home.

  Staying with him, I figured, would be better than ever going back there.

  “My mom,” I whispered, and my voice cracked.

  I felt him look over at me. “What about her?”

  “She’ll be by herself . . . with him.”

  I looked over and his throat bobbed. “Your mom has to make her own decisions, Marley. You can’t do everything for her. She’s a grown woman.”

  He was right, but it still terrified me to think of her coming home to a battered Luke. He would take his anger out on her once he pulled himself together. He would swing and he wouldn’t dare miss, and she would take it. She would let him do whatever he wanted, and then let him have his way with her.
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  I squeezed my eyes shut.

  I couldn’t think about it anymore. Just the mere thought of it made my eyes burn. My face still stung, a clear reminder that he was dangerous and foolish—that Mom could be facing the same burn upon her arrival.

  Vin reached over with his damaged hand, rubbing my arm like he wasn’t even hurt. “It’ll be okay, Marley. I’ve got you. You hear me? I’ll always be here for you. I promise.”

  Those words.

  They caused something to shift between us that night. I don’t know what it was about them, but having them in mind as he helped me out of the car, grabbed my bag, helped me to the elevator, and held me close during the ride up, made me fall head over heels for him.

  I’d never felt so protected by anyone. I was always the one defending and taking care of myself. I wasn’t used to this sort of treatment, but I couldn’t say that I didn’t love it.

  I did love it . . . a little too much.

  When we entered his condo, he got me undressed and helped me into my pajamas, all with his fractured finger. I was still a little shocked by all that’d happened.

  He poured me a drink as I sat on his bed and when he brought it to me, he told me to relax. It was red wine. Sweet. Cold. It was a part of the birthday package, as well as the load of balloons he had waiting for me inside, and the small birthday cake. It was nice of him, but I couldn’t get into the spirit of my birthday anymore. To me, it was just another tally mark being added to a dreadful life.

  We sat in silence as I sipped my wine. He didn’t drink anything, and I was surprised. He always drank when he was stressed. Not drinking meant he wanted to think clearly and accept the facts.

  I placed my glass down on the nightstand and finally looked over at him. “I was afraid of you knowing,” I murmured.

  “Of me knowing what?” His eyebrows shifted.

  “About how it really is in my home. About me. I didn’t want you feeling sorry for me.”

  “I don’t feel sorry for you,” he said, sliding closer. “Marley, believe it or not, I understand.”

  “How could you possibly understand?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You don’t have to come home to a drunk, junkie father and a push-over mother. You come home to this and get whatever you want, whenever you need it.”

  His mouth twitched. “And because of that, you think I haven’t struggled?”

  I looked away. “I don’t know.”

  He brought his hand up, grabbing my chin and fixing my eyes on his again. “I’ve been through shit too, Marley. I didn’t grow up in a perfect house with perfect shit. My home was broken too.”

  “How?”

  “It just . . . was.” He paused, like he was contemplating whether to tell me or not. “My stepfather drinks a lot too. And when he does, he ends up doing stupid shit. He used to take his aggressions out on me. Ridicule me. Hurt me however he could. That’s why I stayed here when they all moved. I didn’t want to put up with his shit anymore.”

  I inhaled a ragged breath through parted lips. My vision grew cloudy and I jerked my face away. I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t want him to see me so weak.

  “Would you stop?” Vin slid in closer, forcing me to lie down on my back. When his eyes found mine, so did his lips. He kissed me softly. Tenderly. “I know you think it, but you and I aren’t so different, Marlena. Trust me.”

  I barely nodded my head, the damn tears escaping.

  “You don’t have to hide who you really are from me. Okay?” His voice was so gentle and soothing. He stroked my hair back, kissing the corner of my mouth.

  We kissed again, on the lips, a few minutes longer this time and I indulged myself in the taste of him. I hauled him closer and closer, sighing and moaning, craving more.

  “I want you to make me forget,” I whispered, bringing my hand around and pulling him on top of me. His mouth fell down on mine again and I soaked up all that I could, kissing him harder, deeper. I ran my fingers through his soft hair and he maneuvered between my legs.

  “Wait—Marley,” he panted after snatching his lips away. “Are you sure?” He looked serious. It’d been eight months together, no sex. Just kissing, dry humping, grinding, and teasing.

  I didn’t want to tease anymore. I wasn’t so sure about giving myself to him, but in this moment I’d never felt surer about anything in my life.

  I was ready. Willing. I wanted him more than anything else in this world—even my own sanity.

  “I love you, Vinny.” My voice broke as I held his face tight in my hands. “You’re the only person I know that can make me forget about my shittiest days.” I kissed his bottom lip. “Help me forget,” I begged. “Please.”

  He stared down at me with wide, glistening eyes, like he wasn’t sure what to do. Vinny hadn’t really tried to take my virginity ever since he figured out that I was a virgin. He was patient with me, waiting for the time to come, pleasing me in many other ways but the way he really wanted.

  He was hesitant, and I knew why. He wasn’t so sure after what he saw back at my house. He didn’t know if I could handle it.

  Going from that to . . . this. It was a scary deal, but I wanted it.

  “Marley, I—”

  “Please?” I begged again.

  His lips flattened as he studied my face, and then he gave me the only answer I wanted to hear. “Okay.”

  He stood and I sat up with haste. He could only use one of his hands so I helped him with his jeans, unbuttoning and pulling them down. I helped with the boxers too, and his cock sprang free, thick, hot, and ready. I pulled my shirt over my head and he helped me with my bottoms, using his good hand.

  When his shirt came off, he climbed on the bed as I slid towards the middle. He glued himself between my legs, his thick cock pressing near my entrance.

  His mouth came crashing down on mine and he sucked on my tongue, groaning as his hard body landed on top of me. He grinded between my legs, kissing me so passionately—so deeply. I moaned beneath him, tilting my hips, inviting him in.

  He didn’t take the opportunity. Instead, he pulled his lips away, starting a trail of kisses down my body, from my neck to my navel. He nipped at my clit when his tongue fell through the lips, and then swirled his hot tongue around it. I gasped, clutching the sheets, arching my back. I let him play with my body with his tongue, allowed him to make me wetter by the second for him.

  And when he came back up, he hitched my leg around his waist, lowered his hips, and his tip pressed into my damp entrance. He was big, and I was so tight. I squeezed his arm, my fingernails piercing his skin.

  “I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured on my lips, sliding in inch by slow inch. His mouth hovered above mine as my lips parted more and more, taking him all in. “So tight,” he breathed down on me, but he didn’t stop. He kept going, filling me up more and more.

  When I moaned and squeezed tighter, he kissed me, taking away some of that pain and replacing it with pleasure. He was fully inside me now, and he cursed beneath his breath, picking the back of my head up with his good hand, leaning on his other elbow, and starting a light stroke. I watched his eyes, held his gaze.

  I couldn’t look away from those beautiful brown irises, no matter how hard I tried. In that moment, all I could feel was him. All I could smell was him. All I could taste, as my tongue ran over his skin, was him. I was officially addicted.

  “I’ve got you, baby,” he told me again, voice thick and tight, like he was on the verge of coming.

  I shook my head, my eyes stinging. The emotions flooded me, so I held him tighter. It didn’t take long for my tears to fall. They were like trails of fire sliding across my face. He kissed each one away and then brought his lips down to mine, making me taste my own emotion.

  “No more of that,” he grunted, rounding his hips. He kissed my chin, the hollow of my neck. “I will take care of you. I promise. I love you, Marlena.”

  I loved his voice. He was making the sweetest love to me. It was my first time and it was magical
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  “God, what are you doing to me?” My question was rhetorical, and I was sure I was asking myself more than anything. No one had ever made me feel the way he made me feel. No guy ever cared enough to take my worries away and make them his own.

  It didn’t take long for both of us to climax. I was holding onto him for dear life as he held onto me. We were one, in unity, our bodies molding together perfectly. He had his face buried in the crook of my neck, and he let out a loud moan as he stilled above me.

  I gasped with his final stroke, legs shaking, tears ceasing.

  It took him a few minutes to pull himself together, but when he did, he picked his head up and looked down at me. We were both slick with sweat. His hair was slightly damp, a few wisps clinging to his forehead.

  He kissed me gently. Once. Twice. Three times.

  “You are perfect to me,” he panted. “You know that?”

  I sighed too, smiling a little. “And you are everything to me, Vincent Chambers.”

  He grinned, like that was the best news he’d heard in ages.

  That night, we made love one more time. Not in the bed, but on the couch after a few glasses of my birthday wine. I was on top of him, my arms wrapped around him while his fingers were tangled in my hair.

  I couldn’t deny the power I felt. Each time he filled me up, I felt on top of the world. I felt like with him, I could do anything. With him, I was whole. Complete. With him, I didn’t have any worries. He made me focus on us and only us. I overdosed on him that night, and many nights after that.

  The outside world didn’t matter. My problems ceased to exist. I even lessened my hours at the diner because I felt that comfortable with him taking care of me.

  I could never understand how he managed to make me feel this way—like I was the most important person in the world to him. Like some queen that everyone needed to bow down to whenever I passed by.

  I wish I could say things stayed this way forever between Vin and me, but I think by me moving in with him, things only got worse. He became too comfortable with the idea of always having me around, and I was always dumb enough to accept his mistakes and pretend his drinking wasn’t a problem. He figured I’d accepted him, drunk or not—and I did, but I couldn’t for long.