AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Don pushed me to my knees, hard enough that I cried out, because my knees were still raw from cleaning. He grabbed me by the hair, thrust my face to his boot, and said, “Remember, I know your secret. Show me you’re my girl, Shay. Lick it.”
I ran my tongue over his boot. He bent and started touching me. I licked harder, longer strokes, tasting the bitterness of the leather, feeling the grit.
He said, “You’re pathetic, aren’t you?”
I could feel the truth of it in the way my body responded. I’ve never felt more electric than when I was down on the floor, licking his shoes. I’m sorry, Jamie. It’s just I want you to know the truth.
JAMIE:Don’t apologize. Keep going.
SHAY:I clutched that night with Don to my chest the entire next day. While we cooked and read, and he lectured, I thought:No one else knows, but secretly, I’m his and he’s mine.
He had a lot to teach us. In the beginning, I was skeptical, but there was something so provocative about what he said that it was hard not to consider it. Then slowly, day after day, it began to feel like truth. He said feminists were some of the worst agents of misinformation. The whole movement had started with good intentions but got twisted, and now everyone insisted on denying the differences between men and women. If you dared question the ideology or point out nuance, you were ruined. And the end result was that girls like us had a yoke around our neck, put there by other women who claimed to know what was best for us.
He said it was important that people were honest about who they were and what they wanted, even if it wasn’t convenient or didn’t fit a political fantasy. He pointed at Laurel and said, “Is she as tall or as strong as I am?” He pointed at me and said, “Am I as curved as Shay? Of course not. There’s truth in our DNA. But everyone likes to pretend there’s no such thing as truth these days. They like to act like everything’s constructed, it’s all relative, as if there’s not a raw, real, natural world. It’s willful ignorance at best—at worst, dangerous denial.” He told us denial was why the world had gone off course, why people slumped through their lives feeling empty and alienated.
He looked at us and said, “You’ve felt lost, haven’t you? Like you have no clue who you are and what you should be doing.”
We all nodded—
JAMIE:You were college students. Of course you felt that way.
SHAY:He turned to Laurel and said, “You’re a fragile little thing, aren’t you?” And before she could say anything, he kept going, saying, “Poor, thin-skinned Laurel. How have you not been eaten alive?”
I felt a spark of indignation, because I’d spent years trying to convince Laurel she was strong. I said, “That’s not true.”
Don reached down from his armchair and grabbed my jaw so hard I nearly rose up off the floor. I thought for a moment he’d snap the bone, but he just squeezed and stared at me, then let go. My ears were ringing. But I wasn’t mad—I was ashamed.
He turned back to Laurel and said, “You know better than anyone how easily a man can overpower a woman. What would your father say if he knew what you’d let happen?”
The living room was silent, everyone still as statues—except for Rachel, who squirmed, trying to lean and get a better look at Laurel’s face.
Don said, “Poor Edward Hargrove. I looked him up. Short man. Little Eddie. Died and left his wife and daughter unprotected. Isn’t that what you told me, Laurel? That sometimes you’re afraid you can’t step outside the house without getting hurt?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, but I couldn’t block the sound of Laurel whispering yes.
He said, “You’re right to worry. Menaredifferent. They’re built to take what they want. You’re vulnerable out there. You need someone to protect you.”
She nodded.
“You can’t do it yourself—and you shouldn’t have to. That’s not your job. You’re delicate Laurel. Poor, fatherless Laurel. I’ve never seen anyone ache for a strong hand as much as you.” He was unweaving her in front of us. Laurel bent over until her forehead touched her knees, wrapping her arms around herself, making herself small.
He said, “You need me, don’t you?”
She started rocking, back and forth.
I was numb to everything but the pain in my jaw. Clem was silent, too. She’d been quiet all day, wincing when Don made us sit on the floor, her back still raw from the belt the night before.
Don crouched beside Laurel and lifted her chin. He said, “Come with me. I’ll take care of you.”
He was choosing Laurel. The betrayal was a kick to the chest. As he led her out of the living room, she looked back at me, and—I could’ve sworn—there was triumph in her eyes.
I wanted to rip her away from him. I knew, even then, that Don was showing me I wasn’t actually special, that at the drop of a hat, it could be Laurel as easily as me.
Then Don said, “Shay, come along.”
It turns out I wasn’t being left behind. He wanted me to watch.
JAMIE:And did he…treat Laurel like he treated you?
