Chapter 14 #3
I hated the reminder of Nishi and the horror she endured for her bravery. She’d been strong enough to try to escape, even under the threat of the whip. I had never been that strong.
“Maisy, I’m so sorry, but I have to know, even though I know the answer is going to kill me. How old were you the first time he raped you?”
My skin chilled at the memory. “Fifteen.”
Tangaloa stilled. He hadn’t eaten in a bit, even though he kept instructing me to. I felt the bed start to vibrate under me and realized that he was sitting with his muscles tight as he shook. “Fifteen?” he repeated the question through gritted teeth.
I closed my eyes, not able to look at him for this part.
But he had a right to know, and as Dr. Akamu said, secrets lose their powers when they’re revealed.
“I did not know it was rape. I only knew what I was taught, and that was how to be a good wife. When I turned fifteen, we had a wedding. Dr. Akamu helped me look up the laws, though, and I don’t think we were legally married.
But I didn’t know that then. I knew that my parents had finally come to visit me, to bear witness to our union.
And on that day, I did my wifely duties by allowing my husband access to my body. ”
I pushed my plate away from me on the bed, the smell of the salmon suddenly making me nauseous at my confession.
The bed shifted, but I did not open my eyes until there was a loud bang.
Tangaloa stood next to the wall with his hand raised and his head bowed over his chest. I swear he said something about cannibals being too good for them, but I must have misheard, because that did not make any sense.
“Are you okay?”
“No, I am not fucking okay.” He straightened, which was when I saw his fist was completely embedded into the wall.
“Oh my God!” I shouted, scrambling to get off the bed. It was a good thing I was wearing leggings, or I would have flashed him as my sundress rode up to my hips in my hurry. “I’ll call Tommy—”
“Don’t,” Tangaloa snapped. He pulled his hand from the wall, and I saw red liquid and white dust coating his knuckles.
I grabbed a towel from the hamper—it was the closest thing to me—and rushed over to him. “Please,” I begged as I covered his hand to try to control the bleeding. “You could have broken something.”
“No doubt,” he grumbled. “But we’re only to age fifteen of your confession. I have a feeling there’s going to be a few more holes in the wall before we’re done, and it seems more efficient for him to fix all my boo-boos at once.”
I glared up at him, not appreciative of his flippancy. But I did not argue with him. He wasn’t wrong that there was more, and far worse, to tell him.
Tangaloa reached up with his other hand to touch my face. “You know I’d never lay a hand on you or Samantha, right? I’d die first, Ku?uipo.”
“What does that mean?” I was trying to learn Hawaiian, but for some reason, I picked up Japanese a lot faster. Not only was Samantha’s English improving, but she was also learning Hawaiian just as easily. I was trying very hard not to be jealous of my four-year-old daughter.
“‘My love’ or ‘my sweetheart’,” he explained, still touching my cheek. “Whichever you prefer.”
“Both,” I answered honestly, even though the question might have been rhetorical. “I want to be both.”
Tangaloa had to bend almost in half to rest his forehead against mine as we were both flatfooted. “You’re everything,” he whispered.
I took the moment to breathe him in, sand and leather and musk. I’d been searching for a lotion like it for months and nothing came even close to it. “I know you’d never hurt me,” I told him, answering his original question. “I wouldn’t have come with you to Hawaii if I thought otherwise.”
After another moment, Tangaloa sighed and lifted his forehead from mine. He kissed the top of my head before taking a step back. I was grateful he kept the towel wrapped around his hand. “Why did your parents go to your wedding? Were they trying to stop it?”
I shook my head. “My dad’s a Wall Street hedge fund manager.
He used to work alongside That Bastard, but personally, he and my mom were being trained by him.
” I shrugged, like I was trying to shake off the memories.
“That’s when I learned I was nothing more than property to them.
Something to be offered,” I spat out the word, “and traded for goods and services.”
Tangaloa encouraged me back over to the bed.
Rather than having me sit, though, he sat, and then he pulled me down onto his lap.
I curled into his chest as he wrapped his arms around my knees and back.
He was so large—or I was so small—that my butt could sit on one thigh and my feet on the other, and he was still able to overlap his arms around me.
He rested his chin on my head. “I knew you were going to say that your parents weren’t there to stop it, but a part of me still hoped for your sake. I’m sorry, Ku?uipo.”
I nodded against him. “Me too. I started…acting out after that. I took some heavy punishments. The older I got, the harsher they were. From spanking to paddling, and one time he flogged me. Nothing like…” I had a hard time saying her name.
“Nothing like Nishi. Most of the time, it was taking away my privileges. One time he didn’t let me outside my bedroom for six months. ”
A string of curses was released above me. “Fucking hell, baby. You’re making it really hard to be grateful he’s already dead.”
The chuckle that escaped me surprised both of us. I blushed at his admiring look when he glanced down at me.
“I was sixteen, maybe seventeen, the first time he took me into the basement. I truly had no idea that was where he disappeared to. And when I saw the women…” I buried my face into his strong, bare chest. “He made me watch. Other than our wedding night, he did not touch me. Not like that. I thought it was because I was behaving like a bad wife. I thought that I was somehow punishing him alongside myself, not allowing him access to my body. But I wasn’t, because he had other…
” I flinched, not knowing how to describe it while also remaining respectful to That Bastard’s captives.
“For several days, he kept us in that basement. I watched every disgusting, depraved thing he did to those women. At the time, there were three of them, and the things he did…” I paused for a minute, my hand over my mouth to keep my stomach from rejecting the food I’d eaten.
“I did not know sex could be like that. I did not know a lot of things about sex, even with my lessons before my marriage. But what I saw…”
“What you saw wasn’t sex, Mase. It was rape. Pure and simple.”
The nickname soothed me. “I know that now. Dr. Akamu has been working with me on learning the difference. She’s even had me watch porn to help teach me.”
Tangaloa pulled back from me. He didn’t move me off his lap, just moved back enough to see my face. “Your therapist watched porn with you?”
“Not with me.” My cheeks could have set a forest on fire. “But she gave me specific videos to watch and books to read so I could learn what I liked.”
He was still frowning. “Because of me?”
I shook my head. “Because of me.” I put my hand over his bare pec.
“Yes, I want to have a healthy sex life with you, Tangaloa. But Dr. Akamu said I needed to know what was right for me and my body before I could experience it with you. You should have heard her scolding me after I told her about our shower.”
Tangaloa snorted. “Pretty sure she couldn’t have said anything I wasn’t already saying to myself.” He covered my hand on his chest with his uninjured one. “I owe you an apology for that day.”
“No, you don’t,” I insisted. “We were both compliant that day. There was a lot I should have confessed to you long before you kissed me.”
He brought my hand up to kiss my fingertips. “If I remember correctly, you tried but I kept shutting you down.” He paused for a second. “You were trying to tell me, right?”
I nodded. “But in all honesty, I’m not sure I could have. Not then. I wanted to, but there was so much I was still processing myself.”
“You’ve come a long way in three months,” he told me, pride in his voice.
“I want to kiss you,” I said with confidence, “but if I don’t tell you everything now, I fear I won’t have the strength or courage to tell you later.”
Tangaloa dipped his head and pressed his lips gently to mine. “To hold us both over,” he explained. “What happened after he made you watch him with the other women?”
I had to look away from him again, hating how the memories came flooding back. “It was horrible. I begged him to stop, but just like with my own punishments, he treated them worse the more I begged. I soon learned to keep my mouth shut.”
He ran his fingers through my loose hair. It was still a mess from our earlier nap. “You’re safe,” he reminded me. I hadn’t realized I’d stopped talking until he spoke up. “I’m right here, and he can’t hurt you ever again.”
But the memories could. They still had a tight hold over me.
“I don’t know how to describe the guilt I felt.
He would touch them with such cruelty, but he only touched me that one time.
And I know that’s twisted. I didn’t want him to touch me again, I didn’t want him to do those things to me, but I didn’t understand why he wasn’t.
It couldn’t have just been because I was his wife, right?
” I shook my head, the question still haunting me to this day.
“Dr. Akamu suggested that it might be a powerplay. Wanting me to feel superior over the other women. And at the same time, less than them because they had his attention. It was such a…”
“Mindfuck,” he offered when I struggled to find the right words.