Chapter Thirty-Three Rage
I knew this was going to happen, I even tried to mentally prepare myself for this shit before we met up for lunch today, but no matter how many times you run the words through your mind it is hard to get them out.
I stare up at the ceiling and close my eyes.
I take a deep breath before I look down at her.
“I really do need you to be patient because the shit I’m about to tell you, I have never told anyone.
No one knows everything, I mean I guess Sophie and Lash might know because from what I was told the Sirens did background on all of us and Sophie hinted at knowing parts of my background I never freely gave to anyone.
I never even told my caseworker anything.
I’ll tell you my trauma and this is not my excuse for how I acted or the things I said, but I want you to understand why I pushed you away the way I did and why I have such a hard time opening up to anyone, to trusting people especially women.
I don’t know if you know this or not, but I didn’t know my dad until I was eight years old.
My mom hid me from him. Never told him she was knocked up, never really told me who he was.
But obviously she knew him enough to know his real name, which was listed on my birth certificate.
My mom’s name was Rachel Dawson and she grew up around here.
She knew my dad from high school. They hooked up from what I was told periodically, but it was never anything serious.
She wanted more, he didn’t want more and didn’t see more happening with her.
So when she found out she was pregnant, she left town without telling him.
She had been addicted to drugs my whole life.
Even used when she was pregnant with me.
I was born early and with drugs in my system so they put me in the system.
At the time she wouldn’t tell them who my father was, so from what I was told was that I was put in foster care.
Rachel went through the whole program and all the steps she needed to get me back.
She got clean and they gave me back to her.
I don’t really remember a time when she wasn’t using or doing other shit, but no one noticed anything until I started school at six years old.
She didn’t have any family that would check in on her and her ‘friends’ sure didn’t give a shit.
The details of all that shit aren’t important.
My mom was a prostitute. She fucked men for money, sometimes men and women for money so that she could get her next fix.
There were times where she had a boyfriend and well let’s just say her boyfriend liked to hit kids who he liked to call ‘little bastard’.
She never stopped it, in fact sometimes she even hit me as well.
Eventually she got caught, blamed the boyfriend after I was removed and she then made sure it looked like she cut ties with all that shit so she could get me back.
She played the system so that I would be back in her care.
She didn’t really care about me, I was just a tool she used to make sure she could get her next fix.”
I sigh and clench my fists. Rubbing my hand down my face, I cross my arms over my chest because this next part, this next part is rough and no one knows this next part.
I hate all of it and this is the part where I try to keep my demons behind that wall, the wall I don’t like to fucking look.
The wall that if I look too closely my world comes tumbling down, but I know that I need to be honest with her, I need to share it all.
I clear my throat and look at her, she has tears running down her face.
“Please don’t cry for me. Okay? It’s all over with. Plus, it gets worse and I can’t get through this if you are crying, so please, for me, don’t cry. I hate when you cry.”
She nods her head and wipes her cheeks before she takes a deep breath.
“My mom’s pimp came to her one day when I was about six, before I had been removed for the physical abuse that my teacher could see. He told her that he had a certain clientele that would be very interested in me. He promised her that if she was willing to let him use me,
that she would get double her normal take and mom pounced on that. She wanted the money and the drugs, so she let him invite men and women into the place that was supposed to be the safest for me and she let them use me any way they wanted to.”
The memories come crashing down as I struggle to get the words out and I hold back a gag as I finish that statement.
“She threatened me not to tell anyone, told me that people would look at me like I was disgusting.
That I was dirty. That everyone would look down on me.
That what I was doing was wrong, but I was helping take care of my mama.
Those were things she told me every day.
It got pounded into my head, every single day.
I would go to school and pray no one noticed how angry, how withdrawn I was.
That no one would see how dirty I was underneath everything.
The only break I had was when she lost me and I got sent away while she worked with the welfare system.
She pulled the same shit she did every time and they put me right back with her.
That system failed me. I found out that Devil’s name was on my birth certificate, but since he was out of state, the caseworker didn’t want to bother with the extra paperwork.
Dad doesn’t know that I looked into it. It always bothered me that they never contacted him.
That I never once got cared for the way I needed to.
How all of this just seemed to slip through the system.
One day, when I was eight I came home and the door was open.
I walked in and thought I was going to be greeted with the normal scene of my mom getting fucked on the couch or the counter or whatever fucking service her clients paid for, but when I walked in she was laying naked on the ground.
Her lips were blue. I called the police and they came and took me away, told me a few hours later that my mom was dead and they were getting in touch with someone in Richmond to bring me to my dad.
So that’s my story. That’s my trauma. I’ve never shared that with anyone else.
But I want to tell you that I am sorry that I used anything that I went through growing up as a reason to hurt you.
As a reason to still feel so fucking angry.
The way you made me feel scared me because for the first time in my life I felt safe, I felt like I had a safe place to stay and I knew that what I was feeling for you was more than just lust.
I knew I was falling in love with you and those feelings scared the shit out of me.
Because falling in love with you, having you as my safe space, it gave you power over me.
Power and control that I have never let anyone have since my mother died.
It has always been hard for me to trust women, given the fact that the one woman who is supposed to be there for me, supposed to love me, didn't.
She abused me in multiple ways. So when things started getting serious with you, I played it off like it wasn’t.
I knew shit shifted the night Missy died because when I saw Missy there at the gate memories came rushing back, shit that I kept locked up tight was slipping through the cracks.
I ran to you and you helped keep the monsters and the demons away.
It was scary laying there after we made love and realizing that I felt safe with you because I was afraid that all of that could go away, that you could take it away or that someone else could take it away from me and in feeling that way, I took it away from myself.
I don’t regret a lot of things in my life, but I regret the way I made you feel and the things I did and said about you.
I love you, more than I could ever tell you and I’m shit at all these feelings shit, but I want you to know and to hear me when I tell you all of this because I can’t live without you.
So you’re stuck with me whether we are together or not.
You are always going to be mine even if I’m not fucking yours.
You’re here.” I pounded my fist on my chest, “Always.”
She doesn’t say anything for a long time, she just looks at me with tears streaming down her face and I am surprised that I got through everything with her crying, but she needed to hear it and I needed to say it.
She lifts her hand and does a come here motion with her finger as she scoots over on her bed, wincing through the pain as she moves.
I stand up and get in the bed with her. For hospital beds the ones at our hospital are a bit larger, thank fuck.
Once I am situated in bed she lays her head on my shoulder and laces our fingers together while placing her other hand on top of our joined hands.
“I’m not saying all is forgiven because you did say some things that were extremely hurtful. But I do want to try again. I want to try this with you, actually try. We need to take it slow, so no physical stuff for a while. We need to take the time to get to know one another.
You need to take the time to move past all your pain. I need to move past mine, but we can do it together. I love you too. I always have, even when I hated you for what I thought you did and what I heard you say. I loved you through all that pain.
What you went through was horrible and the fact that you never got help for it explains a lot. You need to open up to your dad, you’re brothers and you need to let go of this shit you have against Liz.”
“Alright,” I turn my head and place a kiss on her forehead, “we go slow.”
“Oh and I’m not moving. So if we ever live together you need to come to terms with the fact that you will not be living on clubhouse property.”
I chuckle against her head and nod.
“That’s fine, baby. I look forward to seeing what you make of this business of yours.”
“I, um, I think that you knowing about the shit that went on with Travis previously might help with us getting to know each other. If you’re okay with listening.”
“Anything you want to tell me, baby. I am here to listen and offer support.”
“I don’t know if you found out much before from Abby. I mean I know she told you some shit and I’m actually really pissed at her for doing that when I asked her not to. Especially since I think that those men would still be alive if you didn’t have them on me. We could’ve avoided all of this.
But she didn't, she scared you and now those two boys are dead and they didn’t even have a chance to live.”
I put her hand up to my lips and look at her.
“That is not on you, that’s not on Abby. Do I like that she told me your secrets before you were ready? No. But I am happy she gave me some sort of background and gave me some information so that I could try my hardest to make sure you were safe. Even though it didn’t really matter in the end.
But Rose, this is not on you. So please do not blame yourself.”
She nods her head, but tears roll down her cheeks.
“Alright. Well, Travis was my boyfriend in high school. I would’ve never thought that boys in high school could be like he was. I don’t know if he saw the shit at home or if, you know, he just had something wrong with him. I guess knowing things he probably had some shit messed up in his head.
But basically, our relationship started out like any relationship. It turned into something else. He started out with trying to control who I spent time with, it then turned into a lot of emotional and verbal abuse. One day I spent the day with one of my guy friends.
When Travis found out it was like a switch flipped. That was the first time he hit me. I never thought I would be that girl, I made excuses for him and I lied about the bruises, but eventually when I saw the opportunity to leave, I left. I knew I needed to get out of there. So I found myself here.
I know that I probably should share more and I think over time maybe we can both share more of our stories.”
“I’d like to know everything about you. Your past, your present and your future. I will try my hardest to let you know all of those things about me too.”
She nods her head and gives me a smile.
“I think that is a very nice idea.”
We sat there for the rest of the day and chatted about everything and nothing at the same time.
I never thought I would be here with a woman.
If you would’ve told me years ago that I would’ve found this woman who changed everything for me and knocked down my walls, keeping my demons at bay, I never would’ve believed you.
But here I am working my way towards forgiveness with this beautiful woman and two sons that I was blessed to have.