Chapter Thirty-Five #2
“One day, I’d had enough. I just couldn’t…
bear it for one more day. Instead of going to school, I went into the city and stayed there.
I began pickpocketing and stealing to get by, but I knew the longer I stayed in London, the more likely they’d somehow get me back.
My plan was to save up enough to take the train to Berlin, but I wound up meeting a man who offered to bring me to America.
I’d always wanted to come here because it seemed so exciting on television…
So I agreed to let him photograph me in exchange for him buying me a plane ticket and pretending to be my uncle on the flight to New York. ”
“Jesus…” Byron whispers, appearing appalled.
I have to chuckle because this is nowhere near the worst part.
“Anyway, there I was… Twelve years old in the Big Apple. Naturally, I had no money, no friends, no family. No place to go. So I did what I had to… I preferred stealing, and I’d become rather good at it.
But it was never enough . Everything was so bloody expensive, and I was too young to get an apartment or even a hotel on my own.
That’s actually how it started… I’m sure you can… guess.” I gulp.
“Prostitution?” he mutters after a beat, and I bite down on the inside of my cheek.
“I wasn’t even thirteen yet… But you know some people liked that.
Okay, some men . They were all men, at least until I turned about fifteen.
And I have to say, it severely stunted my sexuality.
I’d known for years I liked both girls and boys, but it was impossible for me to think of men in a way that wasn’t rough and aggressive, and just… too painful.”
I barely even notice how hard Byron is squeezing my hand until it starts to go numb. But I like it. It’s… comforting.
“I’m not sure why this is still the hard part…
” My voice shakes, and I clear my throat.
“I’m not ashamed. I did what I had to… To survive.
But I hated it. There’s no shame in sex work, but I was a child.
I wasn’t supposed to be doing those things, and the men, my John’s …
they knew that. I carried a lot of rage because of it…
I think I still do. For my parents mostly, because my being out there was their fault.
And for the adults who took advantage of me and the other kids.
I still hate feeling helpless… Hence, the drug use. ”
Byron’s brows lift in surprise, because he didn’t know about my substance abuse issues. He didn’t know about anything…
But the look he’s giving me is so utterly supportive. He tilts his head, eyes gleaming as if to say, “ It’s alright. You can say anything you want. I won’t judge you.”
Interestingly enough, it reminds me of the first time I told this story to Dr. Love.
“I began drinking and using hard drugs almost right away,” I rasp. “I needed something to numb the pain and make it all… easier. Heroin definitely did that.”
“Oh, baby…” Byron reaches out to brush my hair back with his fingers. “How long has it been?”
“Since I arrived at Alabaster Pen, so a few months?” I tell him.
“That’s great, Trev. Really. I can’t imagine it’s easy…”
I’m dying over how sweet and supportive he is.
“No, it’s not,” I sigh. “Honestly, if I had access to drugs right now, I can’t guarantee I wouldn’t be doing them.
” Pausing, I recall something while Byron plays with my fingers.
“I was going to drink… The Ivory has a bar downstairs. But I stopped myself because it won’t…
help. I know that now. But with the other stuff…
I don’t know, self-medicating was a distraction.
And when I was using, I stopped caring and started feeling…
bad. Because that’s what I was, you know? ”
Byron simply nods. He’s not trying to help. He’s just listening, and it’s amazing.
I take a deep breath, glancing at Leo. He looks sad…
Because he knows what’s next. “So I was living and working on the streets, mostly alone. I’d been recruited a few times by a few groups, but they couldn’t deal with me.
I was too much of a wild card, with the drugs and the mental health issues…
It wasn’t worth it for them. But I didn’t mind.
Honestly, I preferred going it alone. I mean, I enjoyed being around other kids my age, but it just made me sad, seeing them mistreated… ”
“You were more concerned with them?” Byron’s lips twist. “Baby, you were being mistreated too…”
I shrug and bite my lip. “For me, it was inevitable. I’d been born into pain.”
His amusement falls away, and he looks devastated for me. I rub my eyes.
“Either way, it was fine , until… that night. Until… them .”
“Who’s them?” Byron asks nervously.
“I was on my way to a mate’s house… This lad I knew from Morningside,” I recount, unable to stop from squirming already in discomfort.
“I’d just been with one of my regulars who was nice, and he paid well, so I remember I was chuffed because I had a place to stay for the weekend and enough cash that I could take a break for at least a few days.
I was walking, cutting through the park ’cause it was faster… That’s when I ran into them.
“There were four of them. I knew one bloke… Not well, but I’d seen him around.
He was a businessman. A Wall Street tosser who liked to bring underage boys up to his penthouse on Fifth.
He was what we’d call a Red , meaning a John to watch out for because he was a freak known to get rough.
Anyway, it was him and three other Wall Street-looking pricks, and as soon as they spotted me, it was like a game… Right away. A bloody hunt .”
My voice goes softer in an instant. “That part of the park was empty, so right away, I was uneasy. I tried to avoid them, but the more I did, the more they came after me. The kick of it, you know?”
I pause and stare, still able to see this all so vividly, as if it just happened moments ago…
Darkness, trees lining long paths that seemed to go on for miles… No escape.
The clap of their dress shoes on the pavement.
Their laughter.
On my knees, cold wetness seeping into the denim of my jeans. My face being smashed into the grass…
Rough hands grabbing at me forcefully. Tears and snot running down my face.
The searing hot pain, and the violent smacking of their hips against my backside…
One… after another… after another.
Sniffling, I blink hard. “I realized rather quickly that fighting was pointless. There were four of them, and they were bigger and stronger than barely-sixteen-year-old me. So… yea. That was that. They raped me, all four of them. It only lasted, like, twenty minutes, but it felt like days .” I inhale deep, letting it out slowly.
“When they were done, they left me there… Bruised and bleeding in the dirt. They left me for dead.”
I feel hollow inside as my eyes slink up to Byron’s. They’re glistening. And a lone tear rolls down his cheek.
He wipes it away quickly, but I’m thrown off for a moment.
That’s not like Dr. Love…
I’ve never seen that type of reaction before.
“Trev…” His voice is hoarse, full lips parted and sort of quivering. He bites down on the bottom one.
It’s such an adorable little pout, I find myself wanting to comfort him .
“I’m sure they thought I was dead.” I continue quietly.
Still struck by this man… “Or as good as. But I wasn’t.
Because you can’t kill something that’s already dead inside.
” Reaching out, I brush my thumb over that succulent lip.
“I got up, dragged myself, beaten and bloody, to my mate’s house…
And that was when I began planning it. My revenge. ”
“ We did,” Leo croaks.
“I spent the next few weeks tracking them down, following and studying them. I waited for the right time, which was difficult, since I so badly wanted to attack them any time I saw their pig faces, going about their lives like everything was fine. Like it was all normal … As if my body, my life, my existence meant nothing.”
In a flash, my jaw is tight, heart rate picking up to a steady thump.
I still have fury in me. Whether they’ve been dealt with or not, I don’t believe it’ll ever go away.
“I harnessed every bit of patience I had, and I waited until the perfect moment to strike. And it paid off.” My lips twitch.
“I killed all four of them, one by one—within a span of three days? If I’m not mistaken…
Lyle Ferguson, Connor Wainscott, John Beckten Jr., and Vincenzo Puglisi.
Those were their names, but I just call them one-through-four. And now they’re dead.”
Byron is gawking. I don’t think he’s even breathing. He looks shocked—obviously enraged on my behalf, only slightly horrified—but relieved and impressed all the same.
I’m trying to imagine how Alice might have reacted to hearing all this…
I don’t mean to always be comparing them, but it just happens.
They’re my only two relationships. For what it’s worth, I know Byron does the same with me and Michelangelo— and maybe Ren too, but that’s a whole other thing.
I can’t fault him for it while I’m doing the same thing.
It’s just a part of our shared baggage, I suppose.
Sighing, I feel like I’ve been talking forever.
And we’re still not done. “Afterward, I didn’t go into hiding…
I felt prison was a small price to pay for my well-deserved revenge.
I was eventually arrested, held as a minor while they built a case.
Ultimately, there was only enough evidence to convict me of two murders, so I spent two years in a juvenile detention center.
After I turned eighteen, I was sent to a psychiatric facility in Connecticut.
If I’d done life… It still would’ve been worth it.
I mean, I’ve grappled with feeling like I let them off too easily… ”
“I don’t know…” Byron hums. “Seems to me, you made them pay. With interest.”
I chuckle, and he smirks.