“So you’ve known Wendy for awhile?” I asked, curiously, and wanting to change the subject. Wendy sounded like a pretty safe topic.
“I have,” he replied.
“How do you two know each other?” I pried.
He bent back, grabbed a water bottle from his bag and took a giant gulp. “We used to date.” He averted his eyes away, not waiting to see my reaction, and took another drink.
And I could see it. They fit each other. They were both smart, successful, and had their shit together. She was gorgeous and someone Weston would probably end up settling down with. She was the complete opposite of me.
“Why did you guys break up?” I pushed.
He shrugged his shoulders in disinterest. “We grew apart, I guess. We’re better off as friends.”
“Oh,” I said, the word popping out of my mouth. I wanted to press him for more, but at the same time the green monster inside of me didn’t want to hear him talking about being with another woman. I didn’t want to think about Weston pleasing her like he had me.
“Look,” he started, and his face turned serious. “We need to address the elephant in the room. I don’t want this to be weird.”
I mulled over whether or not to play coy. Maybe if I acted like I had no idea what he was talking about, he’d think he’d imagined it. No, unlike my other guys, Weston was smarter than that.
“Bringing it up makes it weird,” I pointed out.
“Last night probably wasn’t the best idea.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” My eyes went to my lap as I went back to fidgeting with the strap of my bag.
“Look at me,” he insisted, ruggedly. I peeked up, my eyes impaling into his smoky, black ones. “Don’t you dare apologize to me. This isn’t your fault, you hear me? You were drunk, and I should’ve never played along. But I did and that’s on me. I abused my position and it won’t happen again. I want you to know I’m sorry. I didn’t want to stand you up today, but after careful consideration, I think this might be our last session.”
His words kicked me in the chest. “What? No. Absolutely not.”
“What we did wasn’t cool. I have a certain code of conduct I have to abide by and,” he lowered his voice, “getting you off is certainly against them. You’re a victim of sexual abuse. I should’ve never taken it that far with you. I fucking took advantage of you, and for that I’m sorry.” We didn’t break eye contact as he looked at me with regret.
“You took advantage of me?” I asked, aggravated. “You can’t be serious?” He didn’t answer me. “Fuck your code of conduct. We did nothing wrong. I’m not paying you to do shit for me, I’m not your client, and you sure as fuck didn’t take advantage of me. You gave me something I needed. You made me feel like I wasn’t a goddamn victim. You let me forget about everything that has happened to me. You helped me, whether you want to believe it or not, you did.”
We’d done nothing wrong. We were two consenting adults who wanted to talk dirty to each other and that wasn’t against any rules.
“I understand how you feel, but …,”
My hand shot forward to stop him. “I won’t talk to anyone else, but you. You’re the only person I feel comfortable with. You’re the only person I’ll confide in.”
I threw my hands up and tears pricked at my eyelids. I didn’t want to get emotional, but the thought of him leaving me was just too much. I’d only been around him a short time, but I was getting attached. I looked forward to seeing him with each meeting. It was the highlight of my day.
“You believe me,” I croaked. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for that? Do you know how long I’ve waited for someone to be Team Elise? You did that, and I’ll be damned if you think I’m going to let you go without a fight. We won’t have phone sex again. That was a one-time thing. But you will keep seeing me. Now shut up, forget about last night and let’s talk.”
He grinned. “Alright then, Ms. Bossy pants. I’m here to stay.”
“Damn straight,” I replied, returning his smile, and all of the tension in the room burned away.
“I think we left off after the guy came into your room and forced himself onto you,” he said, getting straight to business.
“Well, shit. You go from leaving me to this? No warm-ups?”
“I stay, you give me want I want.” He stopped, his choice of words hitting. “Wow, that didn’t sound right.”
I laughed. “I know what you meant. Get your mind out of the gutter, doctor, and get over what happened with us.”
I was trying to convince myself to do the same thing. The ridiculous fantasy I’d had of Weston being with me was ludicrous. That could never happen and the quicker I realized that, the better.
“All day yesterday and all night, I fought with myself wanting to know everything you’ve been through. I wish I could’ve been there to save you. There were other men, right?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know how many?”
“Seven,” I told him quickly. I had the number down.
His brows furrowed together and his glasses fell down his nose. “Seven different men have raped you?”
“Yes,” I answered, a dirty taste hitting my tongue.
“And how many men have you been sexually active with?”
“Twenty-two,” I answered in shame, waiting for the look of disgust to cross his face. I’d had more men inside of me than years I’d been alive.
“Is that counting the rapes or willingly?”
“Counting them, the ones I’d had sex with because my dad had forced me to go on dates with them, and the random guys I screwed. All of them.”
I didn’t want to make the rapes count, but I did. It was embarrassing revealing that to him, but I didn’t want to lie. He’d stayed to help me. I needed to be honest.
But he didn’t flinch at my number. He just looked at me with sorrow in his eyes. I wasn’t sure which one was worse: pity or disgust.
“It would’ve been twenty-three if you would’ve hung up on me last night,” I added. “So thank you.”
I wasn’t lying, either. If I would’ve never met Weston, I would’ve went home with one of the guys who bought me a drink last night. I was sure of it.
“Did you know any of the men who raped you?”
“No, but I’ve seen a few of them around the city and at business dinners with my dad, but I never knew them personally. It would normally happen before he’d start doing business with him.” Want a business deal? Here have yourself a young pussy was basically my dad’s company motto.
“I don’t understand. Why would your dad insist you were having sex with older men if he wanted to hide this?”
I took a deep breath, preparing to add more screwed up shit to my fucked up mess. “One guy, he didn’t take the bait. He’d told my dad it was messed up and against the law for what it was doing. Later, I found that guy and I fucked his brains out. That man was Peter Kline.”
He hadn’t succumbed to my dad’s demands and it was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen. Nobody said no to him. They’d tuck their tails in between their legs, get on their knees and suck his dick if he demanded it. They had no backbone, but I couldn’t criticize them. I was the same way. And that’s how I ended up with my sexual history. I wanted to own men. I wanted to control them. Just like him.
“My dad got pissed when he caught us together. The guy hadn’t made the deal with him, but he’d still managed to get a piece of me without my dad getting the benefit. So he pressed charges against Peter, sent me to Sun Gate and told them I was fucking one of his co-workers and abusing narcotics. When I got there, I told them that I’d willingly fucked Peter Kline, but my dad had allowed other guys to rape me.
They told my dad what I’d said, and of course, he told them I was lying for attention, and to get out of there. I had a history, and I was sure he’d cut a check for them, so they didn’t care. That’s why I can talk about Peter, but not the others. I was willing with him. If I ever accused any of the
other men of it later, there would be evidence that I enjoyed fucking them because I’d done it before. My dad would tell them I was doing it for attention.”
His jaw hung open. “Wow, pardon my French, but that’s fucked up.”
“Welcome to my world.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ELISE
“What are you doing here?” I asked, shutting my front door in hesitation when I found him waiting in my apartment. He was slouched against the couch cushions with a glass of liquor in his hand. My lips screwed into a grimace while he stared at me with bloodshot eyes from across the room. I looked away from him and noticed an empty bottle of Scotch resting on the table with the lid sitting beside it.
“I wanted to visit my baby girl,” he slurred, patting the seat next to him. He held up the glass in a ‘cheers’ motion, turned it up to his lips and took a long drawl. Just fucking great. He was wasted. This was the last thing I wanted to deal with.
“You’re drunk dad,” I spat, unbuckling my coat and placing it on the hook as my stomach boiled in disgust. I wanted to turn around, leave, and not come back until his presence was gone. But I knew I couldn’t do that now. It was too late. I needed to get him the hell out of my place before I shoved that bottle up his ass.
He held his hands up in the air, his smile turning sinister. “Guilty.”
“Then why don’t you go home and sober up?”
I didn’t need him hanging around there. He was an angry and emotional drunk. The worst kind.
He polished off his drink, slammed it down onto the table, and then struggled to get to his feet. “I need a favor,” he told me, loosening his necktie while he gained composure of himself and came my way.
I crossed my arms across my chest. “What kind of favor?” I questioned, not necessarily wanting to hear his answer. My heart started to thump harshly and my shoulders went tight. Favors were never good.
“I have a potential client flying in from France,” he said, his legs stopping just a few feet away from me. He settled his hands onto the dining room table. “He’s big time, high powered and reputable to be in business with. You know how much French men appreciate an attractive woman. I need you to entertain him for a few hours, possibly a night, whatever he prefers. He needs a date for dinner and I’d like for you to show him around the city. It would do good to get you out, too. You’re always saying you’re bored sitting around this place and want to get out more.” He grinned wide like he’d conjured up the perfect plan with his deranged mind.
I gulped before having the ability to speak. “Hire a whore,” I spat.
“Have you seen the whores dragging around this city? They’re trashy. They’re shit,” he said, scoffing in disgust. “Every decent one got busted in that ridiculous prostitution raid. I can’t send him a ragged, piece of shit hooker that could be picked up on any corner. He needs someone beautiful. He needs high class and that’s what you’re going to give him.”
The hell I was. “Did you just refer to me, your daughter, as a hooker?” I fired back.
He moved his jaw back and forth before clenching it tight. “I don’t ask you for much.”
Was he kidding? “Nu uh, I’m not doing it,” I said, throwing my hands up in the air. “I thought this shit was over!”
“Just one last time, and I promise, no more.”
“Absolutely not. I’ve allowed you to take advantage of me for far too long.” My chest ached and I knew deep down there was no way I was getting out of it. When he wanted something, he got it.
“It’s not happening,” I continued to argue, swallowing a large lump forming in the base of my throat. I shook my head violently, pushing my purse higher up my shoulder as I stalked towards my bedroom. “Now, go home and sleep off all of that alcohol. You rank.”
I jumped and whipped around when his fist pointed against the table in front of me. His venomous, cold eyes sparked to life as he charged towards my way and pushed me back before I had the chance to flee. I landed with a loud thud against the wall. I gasped, when I felt his large body hover over mine.
“I’ve taken advantage of you?” He snarled. Every limb in my body shook as he manhandled me in the corner. He’d revamped from extremely intoxicated to highly alert in a matter of seconds. “Let’s think of this as your job. It’s not like I don’t pay you for the shit that you do.” His face leveled with mine. I shook my head and cringing at the noxious smell of alcohol withering up my nostrils. “You’ve been wanting your own car, let’s look at this as a simple exchange, shall we?” His hot spit splattered against my cheeks.
“No,” I argued, looking away from him as I tried to level my breathing. “I’m not selling my body for a car.”
He bared his teeth, his nostrils flaring. Nobody told this man no, especially not me. “You’ll do it,” he growled.
I gasped when his body pushed into mine roughly. “The hell I will!”
The heat of his finger smacked into my cheek. “Don’t make me force you,” he threatened. “You know neither of us will enjoy that.”
I shut my eyes, taking three long breaths before slowing opening them up. I stared up at him, his face still wrapped up in fury, and I knew I having this conversation in his state was a very bad idea.
“I’ll think about it,” I said, forcing my voice to stay calm. “Go home, we’ll talk about this in the morning.” I attempted to duck underneath his arm to maneuver around him, but I didn’t make it too far. I shrieked out in pain when his hand forcefully wrapped around my arm and he threw me back against the wall.
He pinned me against it, his arms cornering me in and grabbed both of my hands to stretch them above my head. I cried out when he pressed down on them painfully so I couldn’t move. Hips lips curled up, looking directly at me while I struggled to break free.
“You’re just like her, you know that, you stupid fucking cunt? At least she was smart enough to know to spread her legs for something of value. But you do it for fucking free. You’re a free whore.”
I ignored him, squirming while trying to grab his hands above mine to drag them off. My legs shook while I tried to fight against him and made him angrier. His hold clamped onto me and shot more pain through my body. I whimpered when he glared down at me in amusement and terror immediately hit me.
This was it. He’d been angry with me before, but this was different. His eyes had always been full of hate and anger, but tonight they were twisted with something darker. Something evil.
“Whores don’t deserve respect,” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. “You don’t respect yourself or your body. You deserve pain.” I shut my eyes, and the scent of alcohol grew stronger. “You look just like her, just like that stupid, fucking slut. God cursed you by giving you her looks. He fucked you right from the very start.”
A gasp of air escaped my chest when he released an arm, but my stomach coiled when I realized he wasn’t letting me go. No, he was just getting started. He traced the outline of my mouth with cold, fumbling fingers and then moved them down to slide along my breastbone, down my stomach and then to my waist.
“God, I miss her so fucking much,” he muttered. I shuddered when his mouth hit my ear. My heart pounded so hard against my chest that I was sure it was going to crack open my rib cage and fall down at our feet. My bones wanted to shake themselves rid of my skin and flee the scene. This wasn’t happening. No. This couldn’t be happening right now.
“Dad … stop,” I said, slowly, holding back a scream. My breathing constricted, beating against my lungs, but I tried to do my best to act normal.
“God, I wanted her so much. I miss her. I miss her touch.” He balled up my shirt in his fist and I began to panic when his clammy hand started to roam across the bare skin of my belly, my skin crawling at his touch.
I bit my lip when his erection pressed in between my thighs. Why wasn’t I screaming? Why wasn’t I fighting? Why the fuck couldn’t I move? It was like I was paralyzed.
“She loved it when I fucked her.�
� He thrust towards me again, rougher this time. “But eventually, that wasn’t enough. I wish she were here now, so I could show her how a real man fucks. Do you know how a real man fucks? Not one who’s paying for it?” I shrunk back at the feel of his tongue darting along my earlobe at the same time his hand slid between my legs.
This wasn’t the first time something like this has happened. When my dad drank, he got mean. He also got nostalgic. He missed my mom and all of the bad shit came up with every sip of alcohol. His mind would go into a different world and he’d think I was her, but after a few minutes he’d wake up and snap back into reality. He’d never let it go this far before. I was terrified to find out where his limits were tonight. As each day passed, he was becoming more and more of a monster.
Panic engulfed me the moment he unsnapped the button of my jeans. I tried to swat his hand away, but he slammed me harder against the wall.
“Don’t you dare fucking fight it or it’ll turn ugly. I’m going to get you prepared for this guy tomorrow. You will meet him, you will do whatever he wants.”
“Dad!” I finally managed to scream out, trying to push him away again.
“I’ve been waiting to have you in my arms again,” he muttered, his mouth back to my ear, his fingers fidgeting with my zipper.
“I’m not her!” I struggled to bring up a knee, aiming it towards his growing, but his hold on me was too strong.
He continued to grind against me when he dipped a hand into my pants while I scratched at his hands to release me. I used my nails, teeth, anything to move, but he wasn’t letting me go.
His hand went to my mouth to block my voice when I screamed out for help. He cursed when I managed to sink my teeth into the rough skin of his palm, brought his hand back to inspect the wound, and slapped me across the face.
My head whiplashed to the side and it dawned on me. I was about to be raped by my own father. This wasn’t a strange man I’d never met. This was the one who was supposed to love and protect me. I pushed to breathe, working hard for it, but I was losing all my power and will to fight. My head fell back at another smack in the face. I drifted into another world, to the place I went to every time this happened to me, my real life nightmare.
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