Chapter 24 Defiled
defiled
Cian
“His name is Mr. Rogers?” Disbelief colors my question.
“Seth Rogers. But yeah. If I ever cross his path, I swear—”
“You will call me, and I will handle it. You’re stunning, Angel, but I just got you back and I won’t have you doing twenty to life in an orange jumpsuit. I want more than conjugal visits.”
“You’re always such a flirt.”
“Was it the term ‘conjugal visits’ that did it for you? I can add it to my repertoire.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that was it.” Her quiet laugh through the phone goes straight to my dick. “How are you feeling? And what was the grape thing about?”
“Picture a grape between fingers squished until it explodes. It’s kind of like that—the pressure, not the pain. They say seventy-two hours and then it’ll be a dull headache.”
“That sounds terrible too.”
“You didn’t see me before.” I start to scrub a hand down my face, but think better of it since my face exists where it shouldn’t.
“You were pretty banged up today. Still handsome though.”
“Eh… If the black and blue does it for you, we’re going to have problems.” Before she can respond, I add, “Did Mom say anything weird to you while she was here?
“Not that I heard.” She lowers her voice to say, “She doesn’t seem well, Cian.”
I tell her about Mom’s condition and the medical trials that she finessed her way into.
“Yeah, but it’s not that. Or I guess it could be. But I don’t know.”
“Mom wants peace above all. She wants one big happy family and that got irreparably destroyed when everything went down. Maybe before if I really think about it. Either way she can’t rectify our choosing not to be a part of it, and that’s taking a toll.”
“I can understand that. If Renée refused to be in the same room as Rosie, my heart would be shattered.”
“Unless Rosie sacrificed Renée for her own gain,” I growl. It’s what my father did.
“Then there would be nothing worth being in the same room for.”
“Exactly.”
“That sucks. I’m sorry, love. I know that isn’t what you wanted for your family.”
I’m quiet. There are two answers to that question. My brother and sister would never put me in that position, and I would never do that to them. We’re a unit—that’s family.
But secondly, I would never allow such a thing for my wife and children. I would never make them choose between me and them. I would choose their happiness every time. Even when it hurt me, I would choose them.
“The example I got from my dad was loud. And it was exactly what not to do.” It’s as much as I’ll give right now. “I don’t have to be taught it twice.”
“Same with my biological dad. Same with Renée’s.”
“Are you going to tell me about him, Angel?”
She sighs and pauses long enough I want to crawl out of my skin. “I love my girl. She made me a mom and gave me a family. That’s a big deal to me.”
Why do I feel the need to brace with that preface?
“I’ll say this quickly and please don’t interrupt, okay?”
Is this a test? “Mmmhmm.”
“When I got caught and dragged back to South Dakota, I was punished. It wasn’t what I thought was coming.” She pauses.
I’m tempted to prompt her, but I bite my tongue. Literally. I taste blood honoring her request not to interrupt.
“He took what wasn’t given. And I mean he brutally took what I did not give willingly.”
No, the fuck he didn’t! I’ll kill him.
My love.
My angel.
Just days after we…
“And I got pregnant. It took a while to be well enough to escape. But I did. Back to Milwaukee. Renée was born safe from all the stuff I knew.” Her voice drops to a lethal whisper, and I hear a version of her I’ve never known. “And I vow on my life she will stay that way.”
The blood in my mouth is turning sour but I know better than to get sick. I never thought I’d see the day when I’d wish I could vomit safely, but my stomach roils, the acid churning looking for an escape.
“Let’s just say I worry every day about him finding out about her.”
He doesn’t know? “He will have to get through me first.”
And that will never fucking happen.
I’ll peel his skin off his body and pour lemon juice on his exposed flesh before he ever touches my girls.
“Wait.” I grind my jaws together knowing that despite the numbness, I’m damaging myself.
“You said it wasn’t what you thought was coming.
You expected something. Something worth running away from me for.
And it wasn’t—” I fight over wording, not wanting to downgrade or highlight what she went through.
“Assault. So, then what? Why would you worry about Renée with her father?” The word comes with its own venom.
He doesn’t deserve to be a father. He doesn’t deserve to have a piece of Sariah’s life or history. He doesn’t deserve Renée, and I will kill him if he even tries to get near her. Biology be damned.
She sucks in a breath. “I… uh—”
“Angel, do you trust me?”
“With our lives.”
“With your secrets?” I whisper.
“Yes.”
“Then tell me. Tell me why I lost you all those years ago.”
“They mutilate us. Our… private parts.” Shit. She’s back to present tense. “On a full moon between our fourteenth and fifteenth birthdays.”
It happens. I vomit.
Meds be damned. Jaw wired shut. Liquid diet long since gone. I’m left with bile shooting through the gaps where my teeth once stood.
“Ci, are you okay?”
“When is Renée’s fourteenth birthday?”
“Five and a half weeks away.”
I vomit again.
And again.
I finally push the nurse call button and mute the phone long enough to ask for another anti-nausea patch and some water.
“I won’t let them touch her. They’ll never get near her,” she seethes.
I wait for beats as I drink my water and swish the vomit from my mouth. I wait as she gets her breathing under control.
“But they didn’t do that to you?”
“I ran away before I turned fourteen, remember?”
My stomach churns but I ask anyway, “But after?”
She pauses, the covers rustle, and somehow, I know she’s burrowing in. “I’d been defiled, so there was no point.” The smallness in her voice is new.
“Defiled?” Meaning me. “Meaning us?”
“Yeah.” Her admission is quiet and is swallowed up in the space between us.
“Do you believe that, Sariah?” My heart and my stomach are in my throat when I ask.
“No.”
“Not even a little bit?”
“I have no regrets about our time together, Ci. I regret that it ended so abruptly and on a lie, but I do not regret giving myself to you.”
I’ll pretend it’s the meds that make me emotional.
I’ll pretend it’s the vomit when my eyes well.
But there’s no pretense in my words when I say, “You were the single greatest gift I’ve ever been given.
I’ve never forgotten the moment you gave yourself to me, or the times that followed. I hope you know you had all of me.”
Her soft cries meet my ears.
“I don’t want to hang up.”
“Me neither. I love you, Ci.”
“Love you, Angel. But I thought we agreed to say it in person and not over the phone.”
Her small laugh greets me. “I did. You had really good drugs when I told you.”
I missed it? Fuck me.
But at least she told me.
We fall asleep together, after a long day and an emotionally wrecking conversation, our phone lines left wide open all night.
Before
“Why? I thought…” I don’t get it. This makes no sense. “You love me and I love you. We’re each other’s forevers.”
“I’m sorry you thought that, Cian. I really am. But it’s over.”
“I don’t accept that.”
“You don’t get a choice.”
Damn. Ripping my heart out and squeezing it until it explodes would hurt less.
What do I do? She’s the one. She’s my one.
“Renée. Angel.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m sorry. I— I have to go.” She leaves my apartment and runs for a car I’ve never seen, bailing into the backseat. What the hell?
I watch through the windows. I want to chase after her. And I don’t want to be the loser who runs a woman who obviously doesn’t want him.
My ego and my heart war for dominance until I realize pride means nothing without something to be proud of.
I jump in my car and an almost to her apartment when my phone rings.
“Dude. Graduation in under a month. You ready?” Cooper asks over the speakers.
My mind spins. Could I leave here? No, not if there’s a chance. Stay here without Renée? That’s a big fat no. Everything here is ours, not just mine.
“Let me call you back. I’m walking into class.” It’s a lie. I don’t even know why I answered. Habit, I guess.
I knock on Renée’s door to no answer. Knocking again, I call, “Angel, open up.”
Finally, I take out my key and let myself in.
What greets me obliterates the shards of hope I have left. Her apartment is a wreck. Her bedroom closet is nearly empty. Same with the dresser drawers. Everything else remains.
She’s… gone. She left.
I spin in place, confused, when a piece of paper catches my eye.
Ci,
I don’t know if you’ll ever see this. Part of me wishes you won’t. The other part hopes you will.
I had to leave. I had to let you go. I’m sure I said terrible things to make that happen.
I’m so sorry. I’ll always be yours
Love,
Angel