Faustus was there to protect him from Sabbas. Faustus was always there for him, treating Andreus like his own son, and so...even though it didn't feel quite right, every time he noticed the way his uncle would stroke his own dick when talking to Andreus—-
No one's perfect, Andreus determinedly reasoned to himself. And maybe rich folks were just different, and since Faustus had never said or done anything to him that wasn't right—-
It's all good, Andreus told himself.
He was no narrow-minded piece of shit to judge others, and it was easier to believe this as time wore on, and he went from popping a few pills a week to several pills a day.
It's all good.
This was what Andreus kept telling himself until he woke up one day, and he realized he was an addict.
"W-What do you mean there's nothing?" Andreus hated hearing himself whine, and he hated himself even more for whining for something he knew was destroying him.
But he couldn't help it.
"Get on your knees."
The hoarseness of his uncle's voice made his skin crawl, and yet Andreus found himself dropping to his knees.
Faustus started unzipping his pants, and Andreus started to cry.
No. Fuck. No.
The pills were not worth this.
It just fucking wasn't.
"You probably don't know this," Faustus whispered as he started stroking his nephew's beautifully high-boned cheek, "but the drugs you've been taking lately are, shall we say...experimental?"
Andreus tried pulling away, but his uncle was already gripping his hair to keep him still, and he suddenly realized that his mind wasn't working the way it should be. The world was turning into a blur, and it just wasn't because of the tears that were once again shamefully running down his cheeks.
His uncle slowly guided Andreus' head towards his wet, wrinkly cock, and even though he felt like throwing up—-
It's all good.
This was all good as long as Faustus gave him just one more pill.
It's all good.
And so Andreus allowed it to happen again and again.
It's all good.
Lied to himself again and again.
It's all good.
Because he deserved this.
He had asked for this.
And it was this lie that sixteen-year-old repeated to himself, when his mouth proved no longer enough for Faustus, and he woke up one night to his uncle's cock ramming into his ass.
Ten Weeks Ago
I'M SPECIAL.
The words used to mean something to Monique, every time she thought of Andreus, and how she seemed to be the only girl in his life that he had never slept with.
I'm special.
The words used to be the truth, but Andreus' callous manners over the phone last night had been a terribly painful eye-opener, and tonight's dinner was the final nail to her coffin. She had thought he was having dinner with her to apologize for his curtness over the phone, and she had been ready to forgive him. But instead he had barely paid attention to her, and it was so, so fucking obvious that Andreus was distracted with thoughts of another woman.
Monique trembled with rage as she struggled to contain her emotions, but as soon as memories of her disastrous dinner date with Andreus replayed in her mind, and the taunting image of Hallie Athanas started poisoning her thoughts, it was just too fucking much, and she could no longer hold herself back.
"AAAAAAH!"
Monique screamed and screamed, and her fists pounded the steering wheel in an uncontrollable fit of fury with every maddened screech that tore out of her throat.
This was the real her that not even her own father knew of. Everyone in Corpus Christi, everyone in the whole fucking world even, thought of her as a saint, and for the most part, she was that.
It was only when she did not get what she wanted, only when she didn't get who she wanted that this part of her would try clawing its way to the surface.
"Fuck you, bitch! Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!"
There was not a single second in her life that she didn't live in fear of having this part of herself exposed, and it was all that bitch's fault that she was so dangerously tempted to throw away the saintly image she had worked so hard on all these years.
"Fuck you, fuck, you, fuck you!"
Monique didn't even notice her nails chipping and breaking as she clawed at every surface of her car that she could reach.
She was agitated to the point of violence, and she had the craziest urge to drive all the way to Claymore so she could wait in the shadows. All she knew was that she had to fucking do something to release all this pent-up wrath inside of her, and she didn't give a damn how long it would take.
She would be more than fucking happy to wait and wait and wait until she had the chance to run over the girl who was about to destroy the wildly rosy future she had envisioned for herself and Andreus.
Her gaze accidentally crashed on her reflection on the rearview mirror, and seeing a madwoman stare back at her had another ugly scream ripping out of her mouth.
"FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, YOU GREEK BITCH!"
That awful-looking woman was not the real her, and it was that bitch's fault, that goddamn bitch that was to blame she looked so fucking ugly right now.
Hallie was like all the other sluts in this world, but Monique was different. Andreus was the only man—-the only man who had ever made her nipples pucker with desire, the only man to make her moan and writhe even when she was alone in bed, and all she had were fantasies of his hands running all over her naked body.
Monique could only feel such emotions just for one man alone. The likes of Hallie could no doubt live with herself even if multiple cocks had already loosened her pussy, but Monique was different.
She had always believed that her virginal pussy was meant for only one man to taste, and all these years she had stayed chaste and waited patiently for that one man to come into her life.
So why then?
Why the fuck couldn't God be fair and reward her patience and chastity with Andreus?
She was the one who deserved a man like Andreus, not a slut like Hallie!
She was the one Andreus should love, not that whore.
"Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, why can't you just die?"
Monique's phone vibrated just as she was seriously contemplating driving herself into a fucking post in hopes of injuring herself and manipulating Andreus into staying with her out of pity.
What the fuck?
The first thing she noticed was the undisclosed number above the message, and in the recklessly destructive state of mood Monique was in, she didn't even pause to think twice about clicking the suspicious link that had been anonymously sent to her phone.
If all this fucking link had was some kind of virus, who the hell cared? She had money to burn, anyway, and so all she had to do was throw this phone away and buy another.
A part of her was already expecting this, but the link turned out to be completely something else, and shock had Monique's foot slamming down on the brakes.
What the fuck is this?
The other drivers behind her furiously honked their horns, the wheels of their cars screeching as they all scrambled to avoid ramming into Monique's car from behind. If not for the seatbelt that immediately and painfully tightened to hold her back, her body would have hurtled out of the windshield.
Is this your answer, God?
Her entire body was shaking, but it was not from the relief of narrowly escaping death.