Born Into Trouble (Occupy Yourself Book 1)

by MariaLisa deMora

  “Everything you did to me,” she opened her mouth to object, but he blazed on, “and don’t lie to yourself, cunt, you did things, showed me things I should never have learned. Surely not at fourteen. Not at twenty. The start of all my woes, I lay at your door.” He took a step towards her, stopping when she cowered into the corner. “Never raised my hand to you unless you begged for it. Never fucked you when you weren’t gagging for it. Never gave you anything you weren’t forcing my hand on.” Leaning in, he hissed, “And I remember everything, bitch. Every-fucking-thing.

  Teeth grinding together, he told her, “I remember. Every line of coke you cut for me. Every goddamned drink you shoved in my hand. Fuck, woman, I didn’t even have my driver’s license the first time you roofied me, got me so fucked-up I couldn’t hardly talk for two days, but you got your dose of my cock. You and your fuck buddies. I remember everything.” He tapped the side of his head with two fingers, feeling like his blood was boiling through him, like his heart could jump from his chest. “Got it all up here, and I fucking hate it. I hate that you took all those things from me. My family. Stolen by your spoiled bullshit. Took my life, nearly.” Searing pain pounding through his body, his brother’s voice, a broken question that echoed in his head, “He gonna die?”

  His breath hitched hard, hurting his chest. “My doc? Told her all the fucked-up shit you did. Every bit of it. Took fuckin’ weeks to get that shit out, so fucking deep inside me, I couldn’t hardly dig it out. Couldn’t stand to say the words, have someone know what I’d done.” His hands were shaking, and he clenched them into fists. “Know what she said? Would your daddy wanna know she said you raped me, not only my body like you tried to do five minutes ago, but you raped my mind in a way it will fuck with me my whole life. I was fucking fourteen, Benita. Fourteen goddamned years old, and you raped me.

  “I have to guard against thoughts of you because the things you had me do, encouraged, forced…those things eat at me. Eat at me in a way it feels like it won’t ever go away. Tearing little pieces of me free with every memory. Every thought of you. Killing me, it eats at me so bad. Used to see it every time I shut my eyes. Even sleep couldn’t make me safe from you.” Straightening, he swallowed, his throat raw, salt pouring down his throat from the tears streaming from his eyes.

  “Fucking hate you in a way I never knew I could. You make me sick. You used me, and now I’m finally—God, fuck me—finally, free of you? You want to come back and try to fuck with me more? I’m sober, and you want to drag me back down to your level? Kill every good thing I’ve worked for? Christ, Benita! How do you live with yourself? How can you think you could slide back in and fuck with my life again? How did you think this was going to play out? Crook your finger, wrap your hand around my cock and give a tug, think I’d be headed up the hallway to the john so you could start back up? Or go down?

  Throwing up his hands, he shouted, “I’m finally free of you. At last. Jesus, at fucking last. After my whole life, which you fucked up—I’m free. You think I’m stupid enough to want to go back? To you?” He was howling now, breath rushing out so fast with every word, pushing out the poison he’d had building inside him for so long.

  “I finally have beauty in my life. Something so sweet and good you wouldn’t even recognize it. Beauty so far away from what you’ve ever given anyone, Benita, swear to God, you never saw anything like it. Now when I shut my eyes it’s with a vision of something I love more than anything. I have beauty and love, and you? Sad, man. So fucking sad. Your life. Jesus, will you just go away? Go away. You are an abusive bitch who needs to go find herself a new fucktoy. Go away.” His eyesight blurred, and he had to swallow hard to get the next words out, wiping at his nose with the edge of one hand, futilely trying to stop the tears. “I won’t give you another fucking moment. So fucking done with you, I can’t even see you in my rearview. You’re. Just. Gone.”

  He sucked in a breath and held it; the hitching sobs so painful they were tearing at his chest. Turning to the door, he staggered sideways when his eyes landed on the mass of men standing there. Slate, Bear, Gypsy, even Mason. More who he didn’t know. They had entered the room while he shouted at Benita and now he couldn’t control himself, knowing these men had overheard every word. Slate had heard. “FUCK,” he screamed. His brother knew everything he never wanted him to know. “Fuck.” All the shit that covered his life for so long, they tasted because he’d spewed it on the air. Like the dung beetle Mason once accused him of being, he’d spread his shit far and wide, covering every man in this room. “Fuck me.” With his eyes squeezed tightly shut, he dropped his chin to his throat, “God, I’m so sorry.”

  “Fucking bitch.” The force of emotion behind Mason’s words shocked him, and he looked up quickly to see the men moving past him, towards where Benita stood. “You do that shit?” His tone bordering on brutal, Mason was speaking to Benita, but stopped beside Benny, reaching a hand up and gripping his shoulder. Pulling him around to face her again, Mason asked again, “Seriously, bitch. You do that shit to this boy?”

  “It’s not like that.” Her eyes were huge in her face, gaze darting from side-to-side, taking in the wall of muscled men standing between her and the door. “We were…” Her voice trailed off.

  Spreading his other hand, the one still firmly gripping Benny and holding him in place when he would have bolted from the room, Mason shook his head. “Edu-fuckin-cate me, bitch.”

  “It wasn’t like that.” Her whisper was scarcely audible, and Benny saw her lips were trembling, watched as two big tears slipped from the bottom of her lids and rolled down her cheeks. Lies. “I love him.”

  “Bitch, you don’t fucking know what love is.” Slate had stepped in front of Benny, putting himself between his brother and the woman. “Knew you were a fucking cunt the first time I laid eyes on you, buying a fourteen-year-old kid clothes so you could take him out with your friends without being embarrassed because he didn’t have the flash you wanted. Made me feel like shit ‘cause I couldn’t give it to him. I didn’t know how sloppy a cunt you were.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, Slate rocked back on his heels. “See that shit now. Sloppy pussy. Fucking piece of lowlife gash right there.”

  “How do you want this to go?” Mason’s question was directed at Benny, and he shook his head, not understanding. The hard grey eyes in front of him softened, and Mason took a breath. “She did that shit to my boy? I’d kill her. No joke, no bullshit. She’d not be breathin’ his air. Told you, people don’t fuck with my family.” This was said flatly, without emotion, and Benny was shocked to find he didn’t question the statement. “You’re not my boy.” Tipping his head to look around Benny to where Slate stood, Mason said, “But you’re family, Benny.” Slate nodded, and Mason turned his focus back to Benny, who didn’t understand what had passed between the two men, but knew it was important. “You give the word, she’s history. Like you said, not even in your rearview. You’ll never have to worry about this kind of shit again. So I’ll ask you again, how do you want this to go?”

  “I…no.” Now his breaths were coming sharp and short, panic setting in. They’d do this, for him. For me. Take this on themselves. Put them at risk. If they did anything, someone might pay. For me. “I won’t ask…can’t. What if…no. I…no.”

  Bear spoke for the first time from his place at Benny’s shoulder, the position and his presence making a statement of support that didn’t have to be spoken aloud to be true. “We can hold her a couple days, give you time to think about it. You don’t have to decide today.” Benny twisted his neck to look at the man who was staring hard at Benita. “You don’t even have to decide this year. An offer like this? No expire. She pisses you off? Looks at you wrong? Shows up where you don’t want her to be? Ten years from now, we’ll still deal. We got you, little brother.”

  Benita gasped, and Benny turned to look at her. Ghost white, her stark red lipstick looked like a slash across her face and for a moment, he imagined her dead, a stripe of a different re
d across her neck. Mason’s fingers squeezed when he shook his head this time. “No. I have to live with what she did. She doesn’t get to take the easy road.”

  “Good enough,” Bear said, then leaned close, speaking right behind Benny’s head, his voice quiet when he said, “Lucia saw something, Benny. You need to go find my girl. Talk to her. I’ll do the gig tonight, you take as long as you need to make her understand your demons, son. She’s strong, Benny. Give it to her. Let her help you through. Don’t let this damned bitch take anything else from you.” Sick with the knowledge Lucia had run from whatever she’d seen, his mind remembering the door swinging slowly shut, he twisted from Mason’s grip and quickly wove his way to the door even as the men at the back of the room stepped forwards.

  As he hit the hallway, Mercedes swung into step beside him, and he heard his brother say, “I’m not as nice as my little bro, bitch. Let’s have us a chat.”

  ***

  “God, Luce. Pick up the phone. Please, God. Talk to me.” Benny paused to take a breath because his throat was so tight he could scarcely squeeze out the words. “Been everywhere I could think of. Baby, I can’t find you, and you’re scaring me. It’s been hours, Luce. Please, baby. Please. Talk to me.”

  Ass to the hood of his car, he sat in the garage parking for the apartments. He’d gone to every place he could think of, called her friends, the few people outside of the band and Rebels he knew in town, and even contacted bartenders and managers at the places she liked to hang out.

  He’d been to the library. A familiar location because they’d spent hours there, draped over adjoining chairs, her nose in a book and him flipping through music magazines, spending way more time watching her than absorbing information about new bass kicks, amps, venues, or marketing tactics.

  He’d been to her Abuela’s apartment, been to Bear’s house, his apartment. Talked to Ruby and DeeDee, twice. No one at Marie’s had seen her since she ran from the bar, her teary retreat the catalyst to Bear investigating what had upset her, his discovery of Benita bringing the club to stand at Benny’s back while he faced her down. Now, Lucia was gone, disappeared, and he was about a hundred light years past freaked out.

  With his phone pressed to his forehead, he closed his eyes. “Where did you go, baby? Where are you?” Mercedes made a noise, bringing his attention back. He had a thought and unlocking the phone, dialed Ruby again. Without even saying hello, he barked out, “Did you check the studio?”

  “Yes, little brother. Checked the studio, the house. Even the backyard. Had to turn off the sprinklers and…” Benny was no longer listening, a memory of pure joy jolting him. One of the most perfect days they’d spent together had ended with them at the park, getting soaked in the fountains of the splash pad. “…go next?”

  “I gotta go.” Without waiting for a response, he disconnected the call as he jumped down. It was only six blocks; he could run there faster than he could take the car. Feet pounding the sidewalks, Mercedes ran beside him as he dodged around the few people on the street at this time of the evening. “Please let me be right.”

  Rounding the final corner, heart pounding in his chest, he pulled to a stop, gasping for breath as he swept the park, looking for Lucia. Not at the tables, not seated on the retaining wall, she wasn’t lying on the splash pad in a recreation of their moment, a picture he hadn’t realized his brain was painting, the carrot for his sprint to the park. “Fuck.” Shaking with anger and fear, heart still thudding wildly, he spun in place, taking a long look at every person he could see. “Fuck.” His shout pulled the attention of everyone nearby and a sudden, startled movement where he didn’t expect it caused him to stare into the gathering darkness. “Luce.”

  Two strides across the grass brought him to the wall, and he jumped down, stumbling into a run again, watching as Lucia slowly stood from where she’d been sitting in the shadows. Wrapping both arms around her, he absorbed the feel of her along with the knowledge that she was okay. Telling her what she already knew. “You’re okay. Thank God. You’re okay. I’ve been looking for you. Couldn’t find you, baby. Scared the fuck out of me.” She was stiff against him, not holding on in return, not relaxing into his arms and his heart jolted to a faster rhythm again. “Luce, baby. I need to tell you what happened today.”

  “No mames. I saw what happened, Benjamin.” She said his name in the Spanish way, her accent and voice thick with emotion. “En serio? Mi corazon esta roto y tu quieres hablar? No. I saw what I saw, Benjamin. Saw so much more than you wanted.”

  “No, baby. Let me—“

  Head already shaking, she pushed against his chest, cutting off his words. “No. I don’t need to hear.” When he wouldn’t release her, she twisted her head, facing away from him. “I saw. Pinche puta’s hand in your pants, you so lost in what she does for you? You didn’t even know I existed.”

  “That wasn’t—“

  Cutting him off again, she struggled against his grip. “I know what I saw.”

  “No, you don’t,” he said firmly, tightening his hold on her. “Lucia, listen. Please, please. Listen.” When she stopped trying to escape, he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and dipped his head, mouth close to her ear, already knowing where to start. She’s stronger than I could ever be. “I lost my virginity at fourteen to Benita. Me a freshman, her a senior. She was five years older than me, and I thought I’d hit gold. Every boy’s dream.” Lucia stiffened, and he whispered, “Please. God. Please, listen.” Nothing, no movement, no words, but no resistance, so he swallowed hard and began again.

  “For the next eleven years, she owned me.” Lucia jerked in his arms, and he pressed closer. “My first drink? Poured by her hand. My first line of coke? Cut on a makeup mirror in her bedroom. The first time I shot up? Her hand held the lighter to cook the spoon.” Licking his lips, he paused, not sure how much to tell her, but then Bear’s words echoed through his head, and he knew if he didn’t do it now, their love would forever be in the shadow of what Benita had done.

  “Every…” He paused when she moved and took a panting breath as Lucia’s arms slipped around his chest, holding him to her. Holding on. Thank God. “Every sexual encounter I had, orchestrated by her.” Turning his head, he pushed his face into her neck, muffling his words. “Until you. Every single thing I did for eleven years was dictated by her. I didn’t even realize how controlling she was until rehab. Until Doc talked me through it, made me see how fucked-up my life had been.” Her arms convulsed around him, squeezing hard, holding tight.

  “Until I met you, I didn’t know what love was. Until I met you, I didn’t know what pure beauty was. What it was like to love someone and know they loved you back just for you, not for what you could do, or what your cock felt like, or the money you could make them. Someone who would go to bat for you, help you pick yourself up when you fell down, and still love you. Until I met you, I didn’t know there was this kind of love in the world.

  “Everything she did was ugly. It feels like everything I did with her colors me with the same pen and I hate that. Hate it with everything in me. Everything I want to be is at odds with what I was.” Lucia’s head was moving, shaking back-and-forth in denial.

  “I did so many…so wrong. Because I…” His breath hitched, and he faltered for a moment, struggling to pick up the broken thread of his thoughts, trying to find the right words to say. “I don’t even know why now. Stupid. I was so fucking stupid, and I’m sorry. What you saw today, Luce. I didn’t know she was coming. I didn’t want her there. Didn’t want her hand on me. What you saw was yet another time she forced something on me I didn’t want. Standing there, feeling that slimy touch, trying not to vomit on my shoes, I got away from her as fast as I could.”

  Her hand slipped up, fingers threading through his hair, cradling the back of his head, pressing his face into her neck. Comforting him. Him. God, so sweet. Holding him tightly, she told him everything he needed to know without saying a word, communicating her love through actions. Holdin
g on.

  “Fast as I could. But, like always, not fast enough because… God, I’m so sorry you saw. I never wanted anyone to know.” Hiccupping, he felt like he was five again, bawling at his father’s graveside, the sobs uncontrollable. “And now, everybody knows. Everyone who matters knows what I’ve done. So ashamed, Luce. I hate myself. Hate what she did. What I did. Don’t leave me. Please. I hate it all so much. I’m so sorry.” The last word broke in three places before he could get it out, but even over his ragged breathing, he heard Luce’s barely-there whisper.

  “Estar en silencio, Benny. Be quiet, bebe.” She paused, and he felt her lips graze across his jaw. “Shhhh. I love you.”

  A moment passed, then another, and his sobs slowly faded. Darkness gathered around them, shadows giving them privacy while he pulled himself together with the knowledge that Lucia wasn’t pushing him away. She was holding on. What she’d said registered, and he knew she needed to know it all, so he told her, “Baby, it’s not that simple. I need to tell you—“

  She pushed against his chest, gaining a few inches of space and then leaned right back in, tipping her face up and kissing him gently, silencing his words. Pulling back a fraction of an inch, her breath caressed his lips when she said, “It is that simple. I don’t want to waste one second with you thinking any of that will matter to me. I will want to know, need to, but none of it changes how I feel. I love you, Benjamin Jones. Not because of anything you’ve done, or will do. Not because of anything other than the good man you are. Don’t say to me different. The man in front of me is good. So good, bebe. Te amo, Benny.”