His face goes ashen, while simultaneously morphing into appall, disgust, shame, and rage. So many things I’m used to seeing on men’s faces. It’s boring.
“You signed an NDA,” he growls. “Don’t forget that, Ren.”
I can’t help but grin at him. “But if you were to sue me… who do you think would be footing the bill?” I glance around the giant, lavish and opulent penthouse we’re currently standing in.
His jaw ticks, eyes igniting a fuse of wrath as he steps closer to me. “You are such a worthless little slut.”
“Ooh, Daddy,” I hum. “Talk dirty to me.”
I swear to God, it looks like he’s about to lay hands on me. And I’m praying for it.
I need it, like a winding up that’s been happening inside me for days, weeks, months, years… All the time blending together like a suffocating gray nothingness. The need to break free from the chains of this life, stretching me thinner and thinner…
I’m about to snap.
Hit me, motherfucker. I dare you.
“What’s going on over here?” My father’s voice breaks the spell, and Stranger falls back, instantly reacquainting himself with reality and his surroundings.
“I’m so sorry, Kenneth… Unfortunately, I won’t be signing the deal.” His surly gaze narrows at me. “I’ve had a change of heart.”
He turns and stalks toward the front door. The palpable shift in the room is strong, like a sudden leak of noxious gas in the air. My father shoots me a withering glare, chasing his potential business partner to the door, pleading with him to reconsider.
My mother steps out from the dining room, simply shaking her head. “What have you done now?”
I lift my shoulder in a bored shrug. Who cares?
When my father comes back, he grabs me by the arm and hauls me to his face. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!”
My muscles stiffen in anger as I snarl in his face. “Do I look like I give a fuck about your business ventures??”
He shoves me away from him. “You’re disgusting.”
“Listen, Father, if you’re no longer accepting funds from men who have ridden me raw, I’m sorry to say, but your accounts are about to be dryer than your wife’s pussy.”
He slaps me. Hard, right across the face. Like a bitch.
A laugh bursts from my throat, loud. A deranged cackle.
I spit blood onto the floor. “Fuck you.”
“You think you can just get away with this?” My father glowers at me, and while I’ve always loved the way I look, in this moment, I despise it. The similarities between us. “Ruining our lives, our reputation with your sickening lifestyle?? You can’t. I will burn you to the ground before I let you destroy everything I’ve built.”
Burn.
A flicker of elation sparks inside me.
Like the strike of a match…
“Don’t worry, Dad,” I whisper with a curl to my lips. “I’m way ahead of you.”
The shouts blur in my ears as I walk away from him. The threats I’ve heard since I was a child. The hatred I’ve built for these people, this home, it stacks up inside me like bricks. The final nail in the coffin.
The last straw.
Burn it down.
And later that night, when the castle is quiet, I’m surrounded by the scent of kerosene.
And I light a match.
Today…
“Fuck yea… That’s good. Hold still.”
Squeezing my eyes shut tighter, I flop onto my side, yanking my pillow over my head.
“Stop squirming. Just take it…”
Muffled grunting and groaning still assaults my ears, framed by the incessant creaking of a rickety bunk bed. My teeth grind together.
“I’m gonna bust… Fuck, I’m gonna… come in you.”
Whipping the pillow off, I shoot up in my bunk and roar, “Shut the fuck up in there! Some of us are trying to sleep!”
The obvious sounds of Cooper, my next-cell neighbor, having an orgasm, trail off into some grumbled curses. Then he shouts, “Sorry, Luth! I thought you were already out…”
“It’s barely nine o’clock…” another voice mutters.
It’s Simmons. No surprise there. They’re cellmates. And despite the fact that he didn’t sound too keen on being fucked when they started this rendezvous that’s currently disturbing my beauty sleep, Simmons is now just raggedly conversing with his rapist, which has me scoffing and shaking my head.
This place, man.
“That don’t matter,” Cooper grunts to his roomie-slash-reluctant-fuck-buddy, hoarse and now audibly up and moving around. “It’s about respect, bitch. Next time I push in that hole after lights out, you need to be a little more quiet. For Luthor. Got it?”
I hear a smack, and a groan. This is entirely too much.
“You were the one talking!” Simmons growls. “I couldn’t even breathe. Your whole fucking fist was in my mouth…”
“Guys… please,” I grumble-cry. Real petulant, whiny shit.
But these dudes aren’t new. Everyone knows the rules on this end of the row:
Luthor loves to sleep, so shut the fuck up after lights out.
“Shhh! Shut that pouty li’l mouth,” Cooper scolds Simmons in a whisper.
Truthfully, it’s not their fault. I can usually sleep through the noise… Or at least, if I’m already asleep, I can. But tonight, I’m having trouble drifting off.
I always know why… But I don’t want to think about it.
Now that Cooper has completed his aggressive exploration of Simmons’s nether regions, the loud noises have stopped, and I can let out a breath of relief. Sure, there’s still noise. There always is. But it’s off in the distance, not next door. I can work with that.
My eyelids are finally beginning to droop, when a familiar voice yelps up the row. And they spring back open.
Fucking motherfuck.
I’m gonna be exhausted tomorrow, thanks to him.
I roll my eyes, flopping around on the top bunk, in the cell I’ve had to myself for the last few months. My frustrated gaze sets on the concrete wall beside my bed, and I just stare.
Listening…
Not actively trying to block it out, like I was with dumb and dumber next door.
I recognize it so well, this sound. Every dip and hitch and cadence… Shuddering breaths, raspy groans, jagged sobs. I’ve been listening to them like a soundtrack for years. I’ve come to expect them.
Sometimes I hear my name. And I refuse to admit it, but more often than not, I hope to hear it.
Slamming my eyes shut, I shake that thought away. No… I don’t want to hear my name from his lips while he’s doing what he does.
I don’t care what’s happening just up the row, in that cell I won’t set foot in again. It’s just another thing I have no control over; something I have to grin and bear, living where I do…
In Alabaster Penitentiary.
And I’ve been here long enough to understand the facts. I took hold of reality way back when. In all honesty, it didn’t take me that long to swallow this jagged pill. After all, I’m a realist. I know there are certain things that won’t change, and I’ve made my peace with it. Unlike some other people I know.