Page 31 of Soft Tissue Damage
I need him to kiss me again.
I need him to do so much more to me.
I’ve replayed the moments in Mr. Grant’s truck a thousand times over in my head, the scenarios ending in a thousand different ways. In many of those variations, Leon doesn’t interrupt us, and I end up naked with Mr. Grant. Only a terrible person would have thoughts like this. I provoked Mr. Grant into lust and murder, and I can’t ask anyone for advice on what to do, not even my priest. I don’t believe what I tell Father Connell is truly between me and God. He’s slippery enough to run off and tell the cops what Mr. Grant did, no matter what he swore.
“I should probably turn myself in.”
That’s what Mr. Grant said to me last night when we were alone, and I’ve never been so afraid in my life.
“Please, please don’t let Mr. Grant turn himself in,” I whisper over my clasped hands. “I’ll do anything to keep him safe. I’ll be a good person from now on. The best person. I won’t have one sinful thought.”
I feverishly bargain with a God I’m not certain I believe in. There are stained-glass depictions of Jesus, Mary, andthe saints all around me. I can feel them pointing accusing fingers at me.
Slut.
Sinner.
Temptress.
I’m not good enough. I’m never good enough. If my aunts find out what I’ve done, they’ll never tell me who my mother is.
When I was in that living room in Fenton, surrounded by those laughing men as they ripped my clothes, I managed to get hold of a knife, but I could do nothing but cry and beg them to stop. Then Mr. Grant burst in, and there was such fury on his face about what was happening to me. Because he was angry about it, I could finally be angry as well. I’ve never felt more alive in my life. I felt powerful.
I wish I could have held on to that feeling and never let it go, but as the days have passed, it’s slipped from my grasp. I couldn’t sleep for hours last night, and when I finally did, I had nightmares. Mr. Grant’s strong arms were around me, and I was soaking up the warmth and love from his body. I got lost in his hazel eyes, and when he touched my lips, I whispered his name like he’s all I ever needed.
But then I heard Leon calling for me, and he sounded sad and desperate. Leon. My boyfriend. And I was clinging to his father. It made me ache to pull myself from Mr. Grant’s arms, but I did.
And then I fell straight down into hell.
I sat up in bed with a gasp, visions of hellfire dancing in my eyes.
There’s so much twisted desire coursing through my body. I would do anything to be rid of this gnawing feeling in my belly.
I gaze at my clasped hands, trying to think of the last time that I was uncomplicatedly happy.
Well, that’s easy.
It’s when I’m with Rosie.
I only see her once a week or so, but every time I do, I marvel about how fast she’s learning new things. She can only speak in single words, but she understands so much, and the way she plays with her toys and feeds herself with her clever little fingers makes my heart glow. I wish I could go around to Mr. Grant’s and see her whenever I wanted, but my time with her is rare and precious, and it’s not under my control.
So what’s the next best thing in my life?
That would be my boyfriend, Leon. Smart, handsome Leon, who I’ve been treating horribly by having carnal thoughts about his father—and kissing him as well. I’ve neglected to take Leon on a date despite the fact that I have a little money in the bank now. He craves more intimacy between us, and I keep shutting him down. It’s a wonder that he hasn’t dumped me for being ungrateful and emotionally and physically unavailable. Leon held me for hours after I was attacked, sitting on the sofa with me while we watched television. I haven’t thanked him forthat. I haven’t sent him any good morning or good night texts in days. I can be a better girlfriend for Leon.
I can be thebestgirlfriend for Leon.
That will make both of us happy and hopefully rid me of the heavy weight in my belly. Work hard, be a good girlfriend to Leon, pay off my debt, find out who my mother is. Yes, that’s it. That’s the new plan. Once I achieve all of that, I’ll know I’m a good person who is worthy of knowing who her mother is.
Energized by my resolution, I get to my feet and hurry out of the church.
My head is full of date ideas for me and Leon and ways I can be more supportive, considerate, and available to him. The first thing I do is send him a cheerful, loving message, telling him that I’m feeling so much better, I can’t wait to see him, and ask if I can take him on a date the night after next. Dinner and a movie, my treat.
The whole journey home, I keep checking my phone for his response. There’s still no reply when I enter my building, while I’m making herbal tea, or while I’m brushing my teeth.
Finally, when I’m climbing into bed, my phone buzzes with his reply.
Sounds great, babe.
