“He’s a soldier. He’s killed people.”
“So’s Filipo. He fought in Vietnam.”
“Really?” I hadn’t known that; I knew Filipo was older than Dad, but if Filipo fought in Vietnam, he had to be nearly ten or fifteen years older than Dad. “He never talks about it.”
“You’ve never asked.” Typical Dad answer.
“I watched him, Thresh—I watched him—”
“Was it just because? For fun? Did he enjoy it?”
“He was good at it… but no, he was doing it because they were coming after him, or me, or both. I don’t know. But he is so fucking good at it, it’s scary. He did it so easily. He didn’t enjoy it, but he was good at it.”
“Doesn’t make him a bad person. He just knows what he’s good at, and it’s something a little scary.”
“Killing people?”
“Protecting.” He rose from his knees, took a chair near mine, and wiped his hands on his shorts. “And you know it, Lola. Don’t act like you don’t. You wouldn’t have dared bring him here if you didn’t know that about him, trust that about him. And you sure wouldn’t have left him alone with me, knowing I was gonna go in after him, get his measure.”
“Did you? Get his measure?”
Dad chuckled. “Why you think I’m here talking to you about it? I got his measure, and he’s not lacking.” He lapsed into silence. We were alone; I wasn’t sure where Thresh went, or Filipo for that matter. “After we eat, Filipo and I are gonna go check on the crops. I’ll stay over at my fishing fale, you know the one. You helped build it, remember?”
God, did I. That was another summer of brutally hard work. Dad’s “fishing fale” was an open-sided hut even more rudimentary than this one. Four pillars, a raised floor, a thatch roof, just big enough for two people to lie down in, over on an island near Dad’s favorite fishing spot a few miles from here.
Basically, Dad was saying he was giving Thresh and me privacy.
Wonderful.
* * *
Thresh ate a shitload of fish, and even more sweet potatoes, and made idle conversation with Dad and Filipo. It was odd, watching Thresh interact with the two most important men in my life—and, really, my only family since Grandma and Grandpa passed. He was at ease, seemed at home out here, comfortable with my little family, even in this unusual place. I don’t know many men whom you could bring to your hermit father’s primitive camp in the middle of the wilderness. Thresh just took it all in stride.
Once we’d all eaten our fill, Dad kissed my cheek, and preceded Filipo out of the clearing. They were heading to the other side of the island, where Dad moored his va’a, the larger, two-person vessel.
Thresh watched them vanish, and then he looked at me. “Where are they going?”
“Ostensibly to check on Dad’s crops.”
“And in reality?”
I shrugged, trying to sound a lot more casual than I felt. “To fish, and to give us privacy.”
“Privacy?” Thresh’s voice sounded strange—strained, tense.
“Dad approves of us, apparently.” I smiled at him. “He likes you. That’s quite a feat. He hasn’t liked anyone since he met Filipo, and that was thirty years ago.”
“He’s a cool guy. I’m glad he likes me. I don’t get intimidated, but if I did, he would do it.” He glanced at the house behind us; I still thought of it as a house, even though it wasn’t, not in any proper sense of the word—it was home, to me, out here. “Quite a life he’s made for himself.”
“It really is. I vacillate between envying him for it and resenting him for it.”
“Why would you resent him?”
I sighed. Here came the serious talk. “Because I lost him to this place. When Mom got sick, he just…couldn’t handle it. I resent him for not having the courage to stay, for me. I needed him, but he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t face life without her. So I went to live with my grandparents in Fort Lauderdale, until I got into FSU.”
“They still around?”
“My grandparents? No. They passed when I was twenty-six, both of them the same year. Grandma first, then Grandpa.”
“I’m sorry.” He shifted his chair closer to mine. “Sounds like you’ve lost a lot of loved ones. Your dad’s out here, so he’s…around, like, alive, but you gotta make that crazy-ass trip just to see him, so…”
“Yeah. Pretty much everyone is gone. Work makes it hard to come out and see Dad, and…honestly, it’s hard for me to be out here. I can’t just pop out for a weekend, you know? This place, to live here, you have to sort of shift your mental state. Especially the way Dad does it. Totally off the land, the way people survived for thousands of years before civilization took over. It’s not easy.”
“Yeah, I gotcha.”
Thresh added another small stick to the fire—it wasn’t large, and it was built from mostly deadfall. Dad refused to cut down trees unless absolutely necessary, seeing as it was illegal, number one, and that the trees were endangered and thus protected. Gathering deadfall branches was another huge daily job, finding it, stacking it, setting it out to dry if necessary.
The other benefit of a deadfall fire is that it gives off very little smoke, and what little there was got dissipated by the trees, so even someone passing directly overhead wouldn’t know we were here.
I was fighting an internal battle, at that point. I knew Thresh had questions, and I knew I owed him answers. But that meant dredging up memories I’d done my best to repress, suppress, and otherwise totally block out. But if I felt this intense draw to Thresh, if I felt like he was someone truly trustworthy, and that I was willing to take that risk, then I had to put out all the shit I’d kept buried for so long.
“I was pretty wild in college,” I said, by way of opening. Thresh used a long stick to poke at the coals, glanced at me to tell me he was listening. “Typical college stuff, you know? I drank way too much, went to parties, got in trouble. Messed around with college boys.
“But until I went to college, I’d been pretty sheltered. Dad kept a tight rein on me, didn’t let me date, and scared off any guys who ever showed interest. That was high school, for me. Sheltered, protected, kept from really finding myself, or that’s how I looked at it back then at least.
“I went a little nuts, honestly. I’d make out with guys, flash people from balconies or cars, get just absolutely wasted. But all that was a cover, because I was a virgin. I never let anything go too far with guys, even when I was hammered. Dad never came right out and said so in so many words, but he made it obvious that my virginity was special. Something to be given to the right person, when I was ready. And since I’d never really dated, I didn’t know how. I didn’t know what I was looking for in a guy. So I messed around, right? What we did in the car today, that was as far as things ever went for me. I guess that’s why that was easier for me than…” I blinked hard. “Than sex would be…will be.”
“Someone hurt you.”
I nodded. “But not like you’re thinking.” I met his eyes briefly, before turning back to the fire. “It wasn’t rape, or assault, or anything like that.”
“So what happened?”
I sighed. “I met Jeremy. He was the coolest, sweetest guy I’d ever met. Tall, muscular, enough that I didn’t feel like I’d break him. Some guys, they were just…it wasn’t about size, it was that I knew I was so much stronger than them, and they knew it, and it intimidated them, and made me feel…” I searched for the word. “I don’t know. Like I’d break them, if I got too…excited, you know?”
Thresh nodded. “I know all too well, babe. Guy my size, those teeny tiny little stick-thin chicks? I just can’t do that. I feel like if I got really into things, I’d just snap ’em like twigs.”
“Exactly. Jeremy didn’t give me that feeling, and he made me feel beautiful. I’ve come to accept and love my body since, but back then, I still struggled with things, sometimes. Being taller and stronger than not just other girls, but some guys too. I knew I had curves, especially
then, because I didn’t take fitness quite as seriously as I do now, so there were even more curves then. But Jeremy made me feel like he genuinely appreciated the way I looked. He was…god, he was so hot.” I glanced at Thresh. “Sorry, I know I shouldn’t—”
“Don’t apologize, Lola. Doesn’t bother me any.”
I breathed in relief. “It’s part of it, the way he looked. Because there was an element for me like, god, I really don’t deserve this guy. He was popular. Everyone at FSU knew him, loved him. Star quarterback, four-point-oh grade average, hot as sin, and just genuinely seemed like a great guy. Didn’t come across as arrogant or anything.”
Thresh frowned. “You’re talking about Jeremy Hofflinger, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s him.”
“Kid had a hell of an arm. Great leader, too.”
I sighed; figured that Thresh would know who I was talking about. “That’s Jeremy. People liked him, people flocked to him. Just…followed him around. He had a crew, all these people who just wanted to be around him, and when he showed interest in me, it put me at the center of that. Made me feel good. I was never unpopular, but I’d never been part of the real in-crowd, you know? It was awesome. I had cool friends, and they’d throw these amazing parties at their parents’ fucking dope Miami condos, or out on yachts…and it only got better. I loved Jeremy, and he loved me.” I paused.
“I guess it’s relevant to point out that I didn’t meet Jeremy until I was in my graduate program. So I wasn’t some naive nineteen-year old. I was twenty-four when I met him. We dated for four months before I got up the courage to tell him I was still a virgin. He was great about it, too. Didn’t make fun of me or anything, and promised we’d take things slowly. And we did. We didn’t have sex for another two months, and when we did, it was—well, the very first time wasn’t anything to write home about, but I could tell he was holding back, going slow and gentle for me.
“Things got…intense, after that. I really, really, really liked it. Like, a fucking lot. I’d always felt this…yearning, or this crazy part of me, but until I had sex with Jeremy, I didn’t know what it was, or what it meant. It was just this…drive, that I’d kept a hold on. And then Jeremy, and I—” I stopped to laugh, because looking back, it was a little funny. “He was shocked by what he had unleashed, once I got my first taste of sex. I was unstoppable. Insatiable. Things got pretty intense pretty fast. I couldn’t get enough. I ran Jeremy ragged, honestly.”
Thresh’s gaze was unreadable. “Poor Jeremy,” he said, his voice dry.
“Yeah, poor Jeremy.” I had to pause to gather courage. “We dated for the next five years. All through the rest of my graduate program and my doctorate and into my residency. I thought he was it. We talked about marriage, we even talked about kids, once I was done with my residency.” I had to stop, choked up, thinking about all those plans, how excited I’d been for our life, how much I’d loved him.
Thresh sensed that this was getting difficult, reached over, scooped me up in his one good arm. I clung to his neck as he lifted me easily and settled back in his chair with me on his lap. God, this was too right. Too good. His heartbeat was under my ear and his arms were around me, and he just made everything okay, and that scared the shit out of me.
“The longer we were together, the better our sex life got. We experimented a lot, tried a lot of things.” I burrowed against him. “Again, I’m sorry for bringing this stuff up, but it’s relevant.”
His voice was something I felt more than heard, with my ear against his chest like this. “And again, I’m saying don’t worry about it. I’m not okay with you getting hurt, obviously, but I’m not threatened by your past or whatever. We’ve all got history, Lola. Can’t be tight with someone and not accept their past.”
“Right. Good point.” I breathed in deeply, let it out slowly. “Then I won’t mince words. Jeremy…he liked to watch us. He put a mirror on the ceiling, which I thought was hot. I could look up, and see him, and myself, and…yeah. But then he wanted to record us, and it was weird at first, but I got into it after a while.”
“Shit.”
“Sensing where this is going, huh?”
“I fucking hope not.”
I let it all wash through me, let it well up and burst out. All the hurt, the anger, the confusion, the embarrassment, the betrayal. Let myself just…feel it.
“He would watch our videos. Like, a lot. He got off on it, watching us. I didn’t, like, get it, totally, but I was fine with it. Better that than porn or cheating or whatever, right? He was getting off to us, to me. So I was fine with it. He had a stash of these SD memory cards. He had a camera set up in our room, and he’d record us, every time we had sex. He’d take it with us if we went somewhere, or convince me to have sex with him outside somewhere. Always recording us. It was weird, I guess, but a harmless fetish, since I knew about it and was okay with it.” I paused again, breathing, feeling. “I only said it in so many words once, that he couldn’t ever let anyone else watch those videos. I mean, I’d hope it would be obvious, right? I assumed it was.”
“He showed someone?”
I nodded against his chest. “Worse.” I swallowed hard, tried to keep breathing. “He didn’t just, like, show a buddy or something. I would have been pissed and probably would have broken up with him over it, but it wouldn’t have…it wouldn’t have fucked me up the way what he really did to me fucked me up. Shit, that made no sense, did it?”
“I know what you’re saying.”
“This is really, really hard, and I’m trying not to cry, and—”
“Feel what you feel, Lola. Don’t fight it.”
“I hate crying.”
“Me too. Only done it once, when my mom died. But I didn’t fight it then, because she was worth crying over.” He ran his hands in circles over my back. “So tell me what happened, what that fucker did, and if you cry, you cry. Only me around, sweetheart.”
I nodded. “He made a movie. Like, with Final Cut. Edited it, put a soundtrack to it. Our entire relationship, from the first time he took a video, which was within the first year after we had sex together, all the way through to the end. Everything we ever did. I was…wild, Thresh. I never held back, no inhibitions. I wanted it all, did it all with him. And he videotaped every single thing, and put it into a movie, and uploaded it onto the Internet. All the porn sites picked it up, shared it around.”
“Motherfucker.” Thresh’s voice was terrifyingly cold and hard. Vicious. “Why? Why would he do that?”
I shook my head, shrugged. “I have no clue. Then he moved. Just vanished. I don’t know why he’d do that. Was it all a long con? Some sick, fucked-up, long-term game? I don’t know. I never got an answer. I couldn’t afford a lawyer to get it taken down and, honestly, from what the lawyer said, it’s like playing Whack-a-Mole. Take it down, and it’ll pop back up. Once something is out there on the Internet, it’s up there for good—it’s nearly impossible to get something removed entirely.”
“It’s still up there?”
I nodded, tears flowing now, throat tight. “Yep. It’s called ‘Lola Loves to Fuck’, and it’s got over a million views, last I checked.”
“Jesus,” Thresh said, under his breath. “I bet I could have Lear write some kind of program. A phage or something to sift and crawl and take it down. Probably could even make it so it infects the computer of anyone who watches it.”
I shook my head. “Then he’d see it.”
“Lear is a professional. He wouldn’t watch it.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter,” Thresh insisted.
“Why? It’s not going to change anything. I still got put out there for everyone to see. It’s not going to change anything. Getting it taken down isn’t going to fix me.” I was crying hard by now. “He even taped me masturbating. Giving him blowjobs, taking it from behind, riding him, outside…everything. And the comments, god, the comments. The names people called me. The things guys said they wan
ted to do to me. I still get recognized every once in a while. ‘Hey, you’re Lola, from ‘Lola Loves to Fuck’,’ and they think because Jeremy put that video out there that I’m a porn star or a whore or something, and they just assume I’m easy. Those moments were fucking private. And it wasn’t like it was a spur of the moment thing, or a little clip from his phone sent by accident. He worked hard for a long-ass time on that video. He even did fucking dissolves and cuts and an intro and a soundtrack. He did it on purpose. It’s a forty-five-minute video. Of me, having sex.”
“That’s…Jesus, Lola.” He smoothed his fingers through my hair. “That is honestly the most fucked-up thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Yeah.” I thought I’d break apart when I told this story. Thought I’d sob. I was crying, but I wasn’t a blubbering, ugly-crying mess like I thought I’d be. Of course, all I was doing was talking. “And that is why I haven’t had sex in three years. I just couldn’t. I stopped wanting it. I shut down. I’d gotten a spot at a private practice, my dream come true job—and they all watched it. They all saw it. That’s how I found out, actually, from one of the other doctors at the practice. I left, got the job at the ICU, stopped talking to all my friends, because they all watched it. I couldn’t—I could barely talk to people after that. After a while, I healed as much as I could, but I never really made any new friends, and I just couldn’t even think about sex. Because I just—” I didn’t even have words for it. I tried, but nothing came. “I just—couldn’t.”
“Goddamn, Lola. No wonder you seemed so skittish.”
“You—there’s something about you. You make me feel safe. I just…I don’t know, I just innately trust you. But that scares me, because I trusted Jeremy too. I loved him. I really did. I thought he loved me, too. So it wasn’t just the video being out there, it was the betrayal, the loss of Jeremy, the fact that he’d done it all, out of the blue, and then he just vanished, poof, gone. I was heartbroken on top of feeling betrayed. I trusted him. I really did.
Thresh: Alpha One Security: Book 2 Page 15