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She couldn’t correct him with his hand over her mouth and her screams turned to sobs. Her body grew numb. She closed her eyes and mentally practiced her violin concerto as he took possession of her body in the most inhumane way possible. The music became so much more real at that moment and the thought paralyzed her.
At long last, he groaned into her hair and jerked his hips against her. “Fuck...”
His chest heaved against her back. She didn’t move. She couldn’t even if she wanted to. He’d violated her in the most horrific way and she wished she were dead.
He softened inside of her and his movements brought her back to reality.
“Good girl,” he whispered, pulling out of her and standing. He walked to the bathroom and closed the door.
She winced as she turned onto her side and stared at the crack in the wall again as the present seeped back into her consciousness. It had been just like the first time. Though in her head she knew it was Geoffrey in the bathroom, her heart feared Rafael would walk out and do it all over again.
She should have run away after Rafael did that, but they’d been in the middle of the woods and she hadn’t been old enough to drive. There had been no cell service and only one landline in a locked office.
Her dad had arranged the three-week violin lesson retreat with his good friend Rafael Alvarez, one of the most talented musicians in LA, and it had turned into three weeks of hell. Rafael was as merciless with her mind and body as he was with her playing.
Yes, she’d learned about passion, heartbreak, torture, and other things that brought her music to life.
Yes, she’d emerged a better player—no one would deny it, not even her.
But at what cost?
Even worse, that had been only the beginning of the abuse from Rafael. Shortly after she returned home, her father joined in. Both men used her body as they pleased.
She’d run away two years later, swearing she’d never touch a violin ever again. And she hadn’t.
Geoffrey emerged from the bathroom and rolled her onto her stomach, gently placing a cold washrag at her ass. “Did it hurt as bad as you screamed?”
“I don’t know.” She clenched her jaw and squeezed her eyes shut, hating the tremor in her voice. Her ass hurt, but not as bad as it had in the past. After all, she wasn’t a virgin anymore. Nowhere close.
“I’ve been thinking about everything you’ve told me about Rafael and your father, and I don’t think Rafael taking your ass was an accident like he claimed it was.”
Her eyes snapped open. “What?”
“Men know the difference between an ass and a pussy.”
“He was drunk.”
“You know better than that now, Em.”
She turned over and stared at him. “He raped me in the ass on purpose?”
“From what I know of him, it wouldn’t surprise me.” Geoffrey shrugged. “Besides, didn’t he sell your virginity later that week to one of his musician buddies?”
As a fourteen-year-old, she wouldn’t have known any better. But as an adult? How could she have believed for so long that it had been an accident? She was still a naïve fool. Especially after what happened the rest of the trip. It had been one giant mind-fuck. She blew out a small breath. “I suppose you’re right.”
He flicked her nipple and she winced. “Your screams were quite authentic. I enjoyed it.”
“I felt like I was there.”
“That’s the idea.”
She sighed. Why had she admitted that? It was exactly what he wanted.
The cool cloth soothed her torn opening and she shifted on the bed as Geoffrey got up and poured the small amount of remaining whiskey into a glass. He offered it to her but she shook her head. He shrugged and swallowed it in one gulp.
“Did I... prove myself?” she asked, scolding herself again for the tremor in her voice.
It took a moment for a small smile to appear on Geoffrey’s face. “You always do. That’s why I like you. You’re willing to do what it takes to be successful.” He stood in one smooth motion and walked back over to her bed. “We’re alike in that way.”
