Page 142 of Real's Love

I focused my gaze on his chest, trying to put together the words that had so humiliated me back then. Therapy meant I wasn’t ashamed like I had been, but I wondered what Targen would think of me.

“Theory,malyshka, what things?”

“Do you know what forced—” I cleared my throat and tried again. “What forced or reluctance fantasies are? What Consensual Non-Consent fantasies are?”

He nodded, and I squeezed my eyes shut again, embarrassed as hell. He probably thought I was some sick, self-destructive masochist. Might as well just push through so he could leave, as I was sure he wanted.

“I had them. He knew. We talked about them. Talked about staging a scene. His mother said she would claim that I pushed him and begged him for that. That those days of repeated attacks were all a plan. That I was deviant and that I insisted he do it. His break from reality meant he couldn’t tell what was real. The pressure of it, the pressure she claimed I exerted, was what made him snap and stab me. She knew I was thinking about teaching high school. She said she’d make sure everyone knew how perverted I was. She had texts and emails, even a couple of voice memos. She could spin it all and destroy me, make Chauncey the victim. My students would be old enough to hear about it, and who would want me around impressionable teenagers? She’d already started a whisper campaign in Emancipation. My parents brought me here after I was released from the hospital. People looked at me crazy, even some of my own family. Family closest to me wanted me to fight them, but I was scared and embarrassed and had no fight in me right then. I was so mad at myself. For staying. For getting in that truck. For sharing those stupid fantasies with him. I was so smart to be so stupid, Targen. So, so stupid!”

I turned away from him, wanting to make it easier for him to go. He surprised me by grabbing my arm. I struggled half-heartedly. Although he handled me gently, he easily rolled me back over and pulled me right next to him.

“Stop. Nothing he did was your fault. You're not stupid for trying to be there for someone you cared about. You're not stupid for sharing your fantasies with the boy who was supposed to be your man. And you had no reason to be embarrassed. Look at me, Theory.” When I refused, he grabbed my hand and pulled it across his scars. “From the time someone fucked up my face when I was twenty, some women have been fascinated. With my size and damaged face, I attract women who think of me as the beast or the monster or the giant in their adult fairytales. Some of them have fantasies like you mentioned. What I learned is that those fantasies are not about an actual violent attack like what happened to you. They're about not having to be in control of everything. And they don't have to feel guilty because the fantasy lets them feel like they aren't giving up control; it's being taken from them. They want to be taken. Taken sexually, yes. But also taken from demanding lives where they have to always be on their shit. For a moment, they want to be dominated, to not have to worry about making decisions and choices. There's no shame in that, shorty.”

The way he was looking at me, so sincere and like he still wanted to hug me, had me releasing a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“You don’t think I’m sick or disgusting?”

Leaning down, he let his lips graze mine.

“Nothing about you disgusts me, Theory.Nothing.”

I snuggled into him then. I didn't know what else to do. I was so tired from relivingtheincident, but relieved that he knew and was still holding me.

“Do you know where he is?” Targen asked after a while.

“There was a plea deal. They talked a lot about his mental illness or defect and the fact that he had never been in trouble. Behind the scenes, they talked to my attorney and Prime. He’d be held for a few years at a psychiatric facility. His family promised to keep him away from me forever. I had to support the plea deal or watch my life and career chances be destroyed. And the Mississippi family was already making themselves known. Prime didn’t have the farm protected back then like he does now. One of the barns and one of the storehouses were arson targets. In the second fire, one of the farmhands was badly injured. Prime locked us down because Emancipation’s little police force was no help. I understood the warning. I didn't argue against the plea deal. I just wanted them to leave me alone. I guess someone forgot to tell him the details. But I don't want a fight with them, Targen. Just?—”

“There's not gon’ be a fight. I'm just gon’ kill him and maybe his mama and other attorneys and definitely the wannabe thugs out of Mississippi.

“If it was just me, that would be one thing. But it’s selfish to put my family at risk because I want vengeance.”

My voice was trembling with exhaustion and frustration. He needed to let this go.

“Your family won’t be at risk,milaya. You have to know there’s shit out there bigger and badder than his Mississippi connections.”

“I know. I understand, but?—"

He moved me so that I was eye level with him. Shifting forward, he kissed me, long, slow, and sweet. When he pulled back, his eyes bored into mine.

“Just know that I come from that bigger and badder, baby,” he said.

She finally fellinto a restless sleep, her body jerking as she no doubt fought her demons in her dreams. I rose from the bed, all she revealed resting heavily on me. But that is how it would be from now on. This shit was no longer hers to bear. I’d promised her that, and it was a promise I intended to keep.

The trek back to Prime’s, where I knew I’d be able to find a truly secure phone, didn’t take long. I dialed the number I had memorized long ago, even though I rarely used it. It rang once.

“Privet, brat,” my half-brother Maxim greeted.

“Hello, brother,” it meant, said as casually as if we spoke regularly. Maxim always sounded calm, collected, controlled, as if filling the role that he did, didn’t fuck with him in the least.

There was no use playing around. My brother was a busy man.

“I need help,” I announced.

“More than you have there?”

“Much more.”

“Granted,” he said without hesitation.

---