“Maybe. But you’re not answering the question. A failure to object is technically tacit approval, so…”
Jade’s eyes widened and I chuckled at her reaction. “Wow. Been brushing up on your legal terminology, have you?” Her eyes were filled with so much joy. And it was for me.
“Just trying to keep up with you, Malyshka.”
“Stop making me smile.” Jade turned away for a moment, failing to hide her wide grin. “You’re a bad man and I’m trying very hard to stay mad at you for what you did.”
“Mmm.” I took in the sight of her naked thighs, momentarily forgetting what our plan was. “You’re doing a terrible job of it. Guess I’m not the only one emotionally repressed.”
For the first time, I saw it—the way her cheeks took on color. She averted her gaze, immediately bringing the conversation back. “Okay. I have to cry. Hang on.” Jade put her face in her hands, and I watched her sit there, trying to make herself cry.
“Let’s just use wate—”
“No, it has to be real.” She sat back and steadied herself. “I’m going to tell you something.” Jade opened her eyes, directing all her attention to me. “It’s going to be a trauma dump. I don’t want sympathy. I just need to say it so I cry, okay?”
Her clinical approach startled me. Hesitantly, I sat down on the floor in front of her, unsure that this was a good idea, but Jade took a deep breath in and began before I could disagree.
“One time Xavier smashed my face into a wall.” The sentence rolled off her tongue in one swift go, freezing me to the floor. “He grabbed my hair and then he just—sort of, I don’t know…flung me into the nearest wall.”
She swung her arm out, the action rough and fast. “He had his hand in my hair and then he just, um…h-he pulled me back to him and then just…threw me to the side. Like I was…like I was garbage.”
Jade’s gaze found mine, her eyes filling with tears just as I filled with rage. Our eyes on each other, I sat in front of her on the floor, listening to another one of her horror stories.
“My nose bled,” she continued, “but not a lot. What hurt the most was the sentiment, you know?” she whispered, not letting me get a word in. “The bruise…on my eye? It wasmassive.I could barely hide it with makeup. But it was the way he did it.”
I just need to say it so I cry.
And she did.
A large tear fell off Jade’s eyelashes, slowly sliding down her cheek, and I couldn’t fucking stand it—I couldn’t stand watching her cry.
“He did it…like I was just athing.” She emphasized the word, my heart bleeding out in my chest. “Like I was just an object. He just smashed one thing against another. I was just a thing to use. To hurt. To lie to.”
I lifted onto my knees and shifted closer to her, not knowing where to put my hands.
“The next week,” Jade gulped, still looking into my eyes with her wet and sad ones. “I-I still had the bruise on my face and he…he manipulated me into having sex with him. He didn’t force me.” She shook her head as if that would smooth anything over.“He apologized. So many times. He pleaded. Promised it was an accident and that he wouldneverdo it again. And I…and I fuckingbelieved him!”
Jade cried audibly now, burying her face in her hands, and that was my breaking point. I wrapped my arms around her and pressed her into my chest.
And she fit into me. Perfectly. All of her molded into me the same way my body accommodated her. Her pain and her fear.
God, this was too much. Jade trembled in my arms, her skin so soft, supple, glistening with coconut oil, but her quiet sobs warping reality.
I didn’t know what to say. There was nothingtosay. Instead, I did the only thing I could in the moment—just held her. Shielded her from the world.
And she stayed.
“I believed him…” Jade sniffled loudly, the scent of coconut permeating us both. “But he…he…” she stammered, afraid to say it.
“You don’t have to, Jade. You don’t have to say anything el—”
“No, no, listen.” She placed her hand on my chest and looked up at me, her makeup all over her cheeks just like that first night. “Listen,” she implored, and I nodded, wanting nothing else but this—her,close by. Even like this. Even in pain, in tears, in agony. I wanted her in front of me in every single way.
“The next week," she restarted, “when he—when he manipulated me into sex and we did it, he…” She looked right past me, fighting with her thoughts. “He spanked me…but I didn’t want it with him. It wasn’t a thing we did, you know?”
I hated this. I hatedhim. Hated that I didn’t kill him when I had the fucking chance.
“I pleaded for him to stop,” she squeaked, a fresh wave of tears spilling out of her eyes. “I cried. I-I begged. I didn’t want it withhim.I didn’t want it!”
