Chapter 11
All Hell Breaks Loose
The pain in her voice cuts me to the bone and fills me with unreasoning rage.
But my anger on her behalf won't do her any good.
I could hunt down those men who left such awful psychological scars on such a beautiful soul, and I could kill them or beat them bloody or what the fuck ever, but it wouldn't undo the damage.
I swallow hard and take her hand, choosing my words very carefully.
"Story, I…I wish there was something I could say to erase all that. I can sit here and tell you that I absolutely fucking love your body until I’m blue in the face, and you'll still hear that fuck-hole's voice. I can tell you until I’m blue in the face that I like it when you get aggressive, and it won't erase what Everett said to you.
There's nothing I can say to mitigate or erase that shit. "
I sniffle a little laugh. "I dunno, Killy. It does help. A little, at least."
I look at her. "Does it?"
She nods. "Absolutely. I mean, you're right, there's nothing you can say or do that's gonna magically fix me overnight.
But…" she pauses, licking her lips nervously, not looking at me.
"When you say nice things about my body or when you tell me it's hot when I do something you like, it really does help.
I need to hear it. I…" her eyes water. "In fact, I think you're the only person whose words could make a difference.
Mainly because I care more about your opinion than anyone else's. "
"I suppose what I'm saying is that trying to consistently show you and tell you how I feel and what I think is the only thing that will really make a long-term difference."
"That is true."
"Those guys didn't deserve you, Story." I sit upright and turn sideways on the couch to face her, holding her hands in mine. "They didn't deserve any part of you. I'm not saying I do, only that they didn't."
She sniffles. "God, Killy. You do. Of course you do."
"They couldn't be any more wrong. About any of it.
But Everett especially." I pull my leg up onto the couch so one is cocked in and the other stretched out along the length of the couch, my back to the armrest. "That was his insecurity talking.
And he doesn't speak for all men. He wasn't even speaking for himself.
Not truthfully, and I'll take that opinion to my grave.
But I can only speak for myself. And I hope you know, truly know that I'll never ever lie to you, and I'll never, ever feed you bullshit. "
"I know," she whispers.
"The honest truth for me is that I actually do feel a little self-conscious about this."
"About what?” she asks, her eyes flicking up to mine in surprise.
"The fact that I liked it as much as I did when you pushed me around and told me what to do."
Her eyes drop. "Oh."
"I guess I…I’ve always felt self-conscious about the fact that I’m not…well, like Cal, I suppose, if I'm being really honest. I don't have this big, brash, in-your-face personality. I'm not a…" I trail off, struggling for the right words.
"You want to say alpha male, don't you?" Story says, smirking slightly.
I nod. "Yeah."
"Even though you know that's rank bullshit."
"Right. It's hard not to buy into it. I know who I am. I know what I’m capable of.
I just…I dunno. Maybe it's growing up in the shadow of Cal's social dominance.
Dad is…he's always managed to defer to Uncle Val's authority in certain contexts without sacrificing his own sense of self or authority.
I've always striven to be more like that.
I don't need or even want to be in charge all the time.
I'm perfectly content to let Cal decide what we're gonna do—saves me the effort of figuring it out.
And I always have fun, even if some of his ideas are a little nutty or dangerous. "
"Cal listens to you, Killy," she points out. "When he wanted to dive off that cliff into the tiny little pool, remember? The rest of us were telling him it was stupid, but he wasn't gonna listen. Until you told him he was being an idiot and he'd only get himself paralyzed, if not killed."
I laugh, remembering. "Yeah, I remember."
Story just looks at me for a long moment. "I can see you thinking."
I nod, a thousand thoughts and feelings racking through me like a swarm of yellow jackets trapped in a mason jar. "Yeah."
"Share. Please."
"I guess I've always felt like I'm supposed to be more assertive. Or…or dominant. Sexually, I mean. But I'm not like that." Story's lack of an immediate answer draws my gaze to her. "What?" I ask.
"I don't know that I agree that you're not, Killy. You were pretty direct about what you wanted, just now.”
"Hmm." It’s a non-response, because he doesn’t agree but won’t say so in as many words.
"Someone said something," I surmise.
I nod. "I dated a girl after Helena. I thought we were good, I thought we were having fun.
Not serious, and we both were up front about it.
But then after like, six weeks or maybe two months, she dumped me.
Told me that I was sweet and cute and everything, but she preferred guys who knew how to take charge in bed. "
"Oof," Story says. "Ouch."
“Yeah. I tried after that, but it's not me."
"And it doesn't have to be, Killy." She thinks a moment, then touches my jawline with three fingertips. "Listen to me, 'kay?"
I nod. "I'm listening."
"I think I speak for most women, here, when I say that feeling safe is huge.
Like, it's the biggest thing, Killy. For most women—for every woman I've ever spoken to about this, at least—feeling safe is the make-or-break thing when it comes to our sexuality.
What that looks like and feels like obviously differs from person to person, but the basic fact remains: if I don't feel safe, I won't be able to open up.
I shut down by degrees, Killian. It started with Parker and the fat ass comment—I shut down a little, felt less confident in my body.
It was harder for me to trust a guy enough to let him see me naked because of that comment.
And then Everett, and I no longer felt safe being myself in bed.
I stopped being myself. I still wanted, needed, and enjoyed sex, but I sort of cut myself off from a whole aspect of what I want—or, really, need.
Because I didn't feel safe. I just…I kept it vanilla because that's all I felt safe with.
And then I met Jocko, and he actually helped with the body insecurity issues, somewhat.
And the sexual aggression, too. He drew some of that out of me.
Jocko really, really wasn't a bad guy. He’d just…
he had shitty taste in women. Every woman he'd ever dated cheated on him, so he sort of expected it.
Doesn't matter that I didn't and wouldn't, and he ended up hurting me pretty badly anyway, just in a different way.
His jealousy and insecurity just eroded whatever we may have had, and my own stuff made it worse because I didn't trust him either. I was always questioning if he was being sincere. It was a toxic, mutual distrust, but the point I’m trying to make is that I shut down even more after him.
I haven't had the courage to be with anyone since Jocko, because I don't feel safe.
I haven't been able to open up to anyone.
Not even for casual sex. I guess I'm at the point where that actually feels more scary.
Letting a perfect stranger see me, see my body that I'm not sure I feel good about, trying to trust that total stranger with my sexual assertiveness? I want to. But I just can’t.
I work out. I eat right, mostly. I take care of myself because I want to feel good about my body.
But in the end, I don't trust anyone enough anymore to be that vulnerable.” She keeps my face turned to hers, and her blue eyes are so intense it's hard to hold her gaze for long.
"You changed all that for me, Killy. I feel safe with you.
I've seen that even when Bryn is being kind of a dick to you, you don't lash out.
Even when you'd be within your rights. I've seen that you follow Cal, but only so far.
You won't do anything too stupid or too illegal, and you won't let him.
And he listens. I've seen you work with your dad.
I've seen you train. You take things seriously. You don't half-ass anything."
I open my mouth, but she's not done.
"And since I woke up in the dark in that container, you've been a rock.
You don't panic. You don't hesitate. You've kept me safe, Killy.
Physically safe, I mean, in a scenario where that's very fucking far from guaranteed.
" My heart pounds and my hands are clammy—emotions jangle and jostle inside me by the trillion, it feels like, and I don't know what I'm feeling, hearing her say all this.
"You respect me. You've never assumed anything.
You've been so, so careful to make sure I'm comfortable with what's happening between us, even at the expense of your own comfort.
That's taking care of me, Killy. That's making me feel safe.
And guess what? When I feel safe, it's easy to be myself and to be vulnerable with you, emotionally and physically.
I know without a doubt that you'd never judge me for my past. I know without a doubt that you'd never belittle me or make me feel bad about my body. "
"I'm in love with you," I whisper. "Nothing could be more important to me than you feeling safe with me and trusting me."
"I do."
"And that alone makes me feel ten feet tall," I say.
"We're just getting started figuring this out," Story says. "But I trust you with my heart, and I trust you with my body. That's a big freaking deal for me, Killian. The fact that I trust you with my safety in a situation like this is even bigger of a deal."
A thoughtful pause.