Promiscuous (Tease 2)

“I don’t want it,” I sobbed as he raised his hand to hit me again. My eye had already closed over, and the pain I felt everywhere was unbearable. “You disgusting, fucked up excuse for a human being, I hope you rot in hell!”

He roared with laughter, my words having no impact on him whatsoever. “I’ve caught myself a feisty one,” he grinned, licking his lips.

I closed my eyes, repulsed…disgusted.

Please, stop. Please just leave me alone . . .

“No!”

I cried out as he came inside me, the shame and worthlessness I was feeling breaking me. How could I call myself a strong woman when I let something like this happen to me? I should’ve fought harder. I should have stopped him. Why the fuck had I gone home with him? Why?

This was like my childhood all over again. My sister flashed into my head. All those years of torture at the hands of her scum boyfriends had come to an end the day I found her dead in the bathtub. She had overdosed. I was fifteen. Fifteen, and finally free. Fifteen and alone.

All that I’d accomplished since then meant nothing now as I lay crying on the floor, Ivan still inside of me.

He pushed me aside and got to his feet. I sat there, crying, my knees pressed up to my chest and my hands curled tightly around my legs, creating a barrier between him and me. He stood over me as he buckled up his pants, the satisfied grin matching the evil in his eyes.

Fucking asshole. Every part of me ached, yet the pure hate I felt for this piece of scum right then outweighed every other sensation.

“You should be grateful anyone still wants you after the way you acted with that escort. Then you go around dressed like that?” He laughed and threw something white in my direction. “You wanted this, and you know it. You’re the biggest slut in this business.” He winked at me and turned to leave.

As he reached the door, he abruptly turned back. “I don’t need to tell you to keep this between us, do I? Nobody is going to believe you—not with my word against yours. And don’t get any ideas about firing me, honey. I’ll sue you into the fucking gutter for breaking our contract.” He laughed. “The gutter. Right where I found you, huh?”

I let my head fall to the floor and began to cry as he walked out the door. I spotted the small bag of white powder and reached out for it.

Coke. He had been on something.

I’d seen the signs before, over and over, with every piece-of-shit boyfriend my sister had let into our home. I racked my brain, trying to piece the night back together, trying to figure out what I could have done to prevent this. Was it my fault? Had I led him on? It played over and over in my head, like a scene stuck on repeat, a nightmare I couldn’t break free from.

Wiping my eyes, I struggled to my feet, ignoring the burning pain and wetness between my legs. I clutched my right shoulder, which was aching from landing on it when he’d pushed me, and staggered to the bathroom.

The steam enveloped me as I climbed into the scalding-hot shower. Leaning against the wet tiles, I wrapped my arms around my stomach as loud sobs escaped from me. Why had I let him drive me home? I’d never felt comfortable around him. Letting him into my house was a stupid, stupid idea.

Fuck, Beth, what the hell were you thinking?

But that was the point: I’d been so focused on being annoyed at Coop that I hadn’t been thinking. I couldn’t tell the police, or anyone else for that matter, because he was right—it was his word against mine, and nobody was going to believe me.

“Leave me alone,” I shrieked, scrubbing furiously at my skin. Blood, mixed with the warm water, began to pool on the shower floor. I examined my arms. I’d scrubbed so hard the skin had begun to break. And it still wasn’t enough. I could still feel him. I could still smell him.

I could feel him everywhere. He was on me, he was inside of me . . . he was everywhere.

I doubled over and gagged, the bitter taste of bile and alcohol burning my throat. How could this have happened to me? As a teenager there had been many close calls, but never . . . nobody had ever gotten this far.

My knees gave way underneath me and I fell to the floor. Why? Why me? The loud sobs escaping from my mouth sounded so foreign, as if they were coming from someone else. But they weren’t. It was all me. This had happened to me.

My body was the only thing I’d ever had control over. I’d never been a prude, but whom I slept with and when had always been my decision. Through all the uncertainty I’d experienced over the years, my right over my own body had been the only constant.

Now I didn’t even have that.

***

I finally moved from the floor of the shower to my bed, but not before the water ran cold. Shivering, I fumbling for my phone, my hands trembling as I called Coop. No answer. I tried again and again; each time, the call rang out. I slammed it down onto the bed next to me, frustrated that he wasn’t around when I needed him.

Every time I closed my eyes, the image of Ivan hovering over me would fill my head. So I lay there, alone,

the faint light spilling from the lamp beside my bed my only source of comfort, until I eventually fell asleep.

***