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If I said no, then I was just being selfish and terrible because, of course, I wasthat kind of girl. In my grandmother’s generationthat kind of girlhad been as tame as a woman who would blow her own husband. In my mother’s it had been the girl who’d slept with a couple of different men before marriage. In my generation it was the freaky ones. That bold, open freakiness made unsavory men believe that it was all up for grabs and that the wordno, simply wasn’t allowed if you werethat kind of girl.
“Stop it!” I said more firmly, pushing his hands away. This man had the power to halt my degree in its tracks. He could fail me, and then the only way I’d have a hope of salvaging my future was if I reported him. But wouldn’t that be convenient? It would be my word against his, and with the stakes involved, he could just say I was trying to get a grade I hadn’t earned by threatening his career.
And sincethat partyhad become common knowledge all over the school, I’d be treated like the whore who cried wolf.
“Don’t worry, no one will walk in on us,” he said. As if that were the problem rather than his abuse of position and the general grossness of this whole thing. He wasn’t even some sexy youngish professor. He was old enough to be my father and short and balding and not exactly fit. How could he pretend surprise that I didn’t want him or this? Some men only acceptednofrom a woman who kept her pussy under total lock and key. Because why should a few men get to have fun with you but not all of them? Forget the fact that the frat guys I’d fucked had looked like underwear models and had been my age. Nope. One dick gets in, they all get in.
I used every bit of mental power I possessed to...WAKE UP, wake up right now, Elodie! Wake up!
My heart beat wildly as I bolted upright in bed, taking in the darkness of my room in Shannon’s house. It was safe and quiet. I didn’t even question why I felt safe in Shannon’s house. I did. And that was that.
I wasn’t sure if I remembered everything about my past or not. But I remembered enough. I wondered if the earlier escalation of the games with Shannon had triggered the unlocking of my most powerful and vivid memory before the accident. I was beyond grateful that I’d woken before having to live it over again. My professor had taken me to asecond location. Because of course he had. No wonder that idea had pulsed through my mind randomly even before my memory had returned.
The campus had been largely shut down for the holidays. And because I didn’t have anything in the way of family to go home to, I’d stayed behind in the lab to catch up on some extra work. It had seemed baffling to me at the time why he’d chosen to switch venues. At least until we’d gotten to his house.
He hadn’t killed me, obviously, but he may as well have. Because he liked the kink, too. And if he liked the kink, and I liked the kink, well then what was the problem? Fuck my agency. I wasthat kind of girl, goddammit!When he’d finally let me go the next day, swearing up and down that if I told anyone, nobody would believe a word out of my filthy whore mouth, I’d packed my shit up and left. At least everyone was away for the holidays, and I wouldn’t have to answer any uncomfortable questions.
I’d left my schooling in the dust, afraid to even try to transfer somewhere else, afraid his vengeance would follow me. I’d moved to Florida and just lived off the money my biological father—who I still didn’t know—had given me. He’d been generous. He’d set me up for life. He’d even paid for school above and on top of the money he’d dropped into an account for me.
I had thought at the time if only I knew who he was, maybe he would have done something about the professor so I could finish my education, but I was sure he wouldn’t want to get entangled in my frat house sex scandal—not if he couldn’t even handle the shame of having fathered me in the first place.
In Florida, I’d met Trevor. On paper, he’d looked great. Good-looking successful doctor. But something had feltwrongabout him early on. I’d been trying to forget about what happened at school. I didn’t want to think there was something broken or wrong about me now—something I couldn’t get back. When I ended things with Trevor, not long after they began, he started to stalk me. I hadn’t gotten a restraining order because, hell, what good would that do? It would just piss him off more, and it wasn’t as if that piece of paper was a magical shield that could protect me.
The most fucked-up part of all of it was that the accident that landed me in the hospital involved Trevor chasing me in a car like the crazed lunatic he clearly was. And then, I’d been entrusted to his care in the hospital because no one had known any better.
Trevor’s car hadn’t been involved in the accident. I’d gone off the road. And beyond that, everything was a blank. The brief flash of him in the white room must have been when I’d woken in the hospital and hadn’t remembered anything. That must have been when he’d put his plan in motion.
I’d never fallen in that pirate ship. Trevor must have carefully placed me there and waited for me to wake up into the sinister reality he’d manufactured for us. All those scars... they’d been fresher than I’d wanted to admit when I’d first caught my reflection in a mirror. Probably injuries I’d sustained in the crash. And that strange weakness when I’d woken up in the ship... it was probably from the coma and not using any of my muscles for however long I’d been out. I was sure someone had moved my arms and legs to try to keep atrophy at bay, but I still would have needed physical therapy. No wonder I’d felt so weak and helpless and confused when I’d woken in the forest.
I scooted back down under the covers and tried to close my eyes again. I’d had nightmares before at Shannon’s house, and I’d gone back to sleep. But somehow I knew this was different. Before, I’d been a broken glass object held together by the glue of my lack of memory. But now there was no glue. I wanted to go back to before, when all my mind held were missing, gaping holes of lost stories. I wanted the blank slate again. It was safe and comforting.
When I closed my eyes now, all I could see was that night with Professor Stevens in his house, tied down to a bed in his basement... his belt tearing through belt loops and then leaving red welts across my bared flesh. No wonder the first night when Shannon had tied me to his bed had caused that sense of panic I couldn’t quite nail down. It was as if a whisper of the memory was already working its way through, trying to protect me from a repeat experience.
In some ways, I was grateful things had moved forward with Shannon before I was in possession of my memories. After, I’m not sure I would have had the courage for it.
I got up and slipped out of the room. Down the hall, the white cat lay just outside Shannon’s door. She hissed at me as I got close. I couldn’t bring myself to open the door. I was afraid of how he might react to me barging into his private space.
If I didn’t want him, would that change anything? Would he just do the same as my professor had and fuck me for beingthat kind of girlin the first place?
But hypotheticals hardly mattered. The fact was that Ididwant him. I wanted him so much it made my teeth hurt. I’d never wanted another human being the way I’d wanted Shannon. And now that I had my history back, I could say that with some authority.
I thought back to our last time together earlier in the night. I tried to determine if his body inside of mine had created any lasting trauma... in light of my new memories. But I couldn’t find any. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to go in there. Shannon hadn’t invited me to start sleeping in his bed like his girlfriend or anything. Whatever thing he felt for me, it was something new to him, and visiting him with my problems would likely only push him further away. After all, feelings were only really desirable if they were good, and Shannon was still so new at any feelings at all. Maybe he would determine human entanglements were far too much trouble—that I was too much trouble—and just shut the whole thing down.
Finally, the white cat became annoyed with my pacing back and forth in indecision to the point that she was ready to do something about it. She stood up and let out that long, insane Emergency Broadcast Meow—the one that could probably wake the dead with its length, volume, and insistence.
Shannon stomped over to the door and ripped it open. “What!?”
I jumped, and the cat fled.
His tone softened. “Oh. What is it, Elodie?”
I shook my head and turned to go back to my room. “Nothing. It’s... it’s nothing.” What the hell was I going to say to him? I didn’t know even now the full extent of what he wanted from me. But I was pretty sure what he wanted wasn’t to have to become my therapist. He wouldn’t know what to do... how to erase this, fix this, make it all go away. Assuming he wanted to.
As far as I was concerned, losing my memory was perhaps the best thing that had ever happened to me, and even the ugliness of the theme park months with Trevor didn’t erase the soundness of that basic principle.
Shannon caught my hand and pulled me back. “What is it?”
Could there really be concern in his eyes? Concern for my welfare? Or did I just want it to be there? Was it a fake emotion he’d practiced with the dedication of a theatre major, or was there the kernel of something genuine behind it? Weren’t even actors so good at faking an emotion because they understood how it felt to begin with?
