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Authors: Jessica Gadziala

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BOOK: Dissent
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He
was going down.

Eleven

I
went to bed happy that night and slept like a damn baby. Without any
assistance from alcohol. For the first time in months.

I
had been on my way back from the shower when a song on the stereo
switched and I could hear a noise coming from Darcy's bunk. A low,
whimpering sound that I immediately thought was crying. And normally,
I would just let it be. Women who cried in private definitely didn't
want to be caught doing so. But as the song throbbed onto something
again and her sound was swallowed up in the bass, I couldn't stop
myself from pulling the curtain away, intent on asking what was
wrong.

But
then there she was. Not crying. Moaning. Her hand pressed between her
thighs, her eyes closed tightly as she writhed in her enjoyment. And
I just... couldn't look away. I wanted to make her feel that way. I
wanted to walk her toward the edge... then push her over. I wanted
her to look at me with desire in her light eyes. I wanted her to moan
for me. So I climbed up into her booth and slid in beside her.

Her
desire was an electric thing. It sparked off of her skin. It burned
into mine. Making her hot was the most rewarding sexual encounter I
had had in months. Watching her come was intoxicating. I wanted to
see it over and over. I wanted her to cry out my name.

I
woke up, making my way outside and making my planned call to Dr.
Todd. Her face popped up on my screen a few seconds later, in her
office, the books behind her as she sat at her desk. “Isaiah.
How have you been?”

“Can't
complain,” I said, walking away from our campsite in case
anyone else decided to get up early.

“How
is your business trip going?”

“It's
been...”

“Is
that a tour bus?” she asked, squinting at the screen.

I
looked back over my shoulder, smiling at my own stupidity. “Yup,”
I said, looking back, running a hand over the side of my face.

“What
kind of business trip requires a tour bus?”

“A
concert tour,” I said honestly. It was going to end up coming
out eventually.

“Care
to elaborate on that?”

“I
got a job setting up and breaking down the stage shows,” I told
her, moving toward the woods off the side of the RV camp and sitting
on a downed tree.

“You
got a job setting up stage shows,” she repeated, her eyes
squinting. “Isaiah, you're a multimillionaire. Why did you take
a job doing manual labor?”

“Yeah,
this is the part you're not going to like,” I said, smiling
slightly.

“I'm
all ears.”

“So
remember my homework assignment?”

“To
meet and make a connection with your female neighbor without there
being a sexual undercurrent to the relationship,” she nodded.

“Yeah,
that's not going to work.”

“Why
not?”

“Because
I fingered her last night,” I said, almost laughing at the
shocked look on her face at my confession.

She
quickly moved her features into a controlled mask. “Okay. So
she's there on the tour with you?”

“She's
Darcy Monroe... from Darcy.”

“That's
a band, I'm assuming,” she said, looking down at her desk
where, I was certain, she was scribbling her notes.

“A
metal band. She's the singer.”

“Did
Darcy ask you to join her tour?”

“No,
not exactly.”

“Then
how did you come to be in her employment?”

“I
met her. When she dropped in between shows. And we... started
flirting. But she kept toying with me. Like it was a game and...”

“And
you can't possibly be bested by a woman,” she completed,
nodding, and there was resignation in her tone.

“It's
not exactly...”

“Isaiah,”
she cut in, her tone sharper than usual. “Can we talk about
your mother?”

“My
mother? Why?” Our conversations about my past had always been
geared toward my father. Because that's where the abuse stemmed from.

“Because
most men learn, as boys, how to interact and view women from the
women in their lives. Most prominently, their mothers. You've barely
ever even mentioned her.”

“She's
dead.”

“Right.
But she died when you were...” she flipped back through her
notes, “nineteen.”

“Right,”
I nodded, wincing slightly at the mention of her death.

“How
did she die?”

Great.
We really were going to go there. “She killed herself.”

Dr.
Todd's eyes shot up to the screen. “She killed herself?”

I
felt myself nodding. “My sister had just turned eighteen...”

“Your
sister?” she asked, again flipping through her notes. No doubt
looking for some sign that I ever mentioned her before. I hadn't.

“Fiona.
My sister. A year younger than me.”

“Okay.
Just keep going,” she said, watching me.

“Fee
had a close relationship with my mother. Probably because of how
badly my father abused her.”

“Your
sister?”

“Yeah.”

“How
did he abuse her?”

I
looked down at my feet, not wanting to think about. Not wanting those
nightmares to come back when things had finally started to sort
themselves out. But I knew all I had been doing was repressing the
memories, not facing them. “He beat her a lot. Belittled her.
When she was ten...” I closed my eyes tight, remembering
watching out the window, horrified, sickened, as my mother ran around
behind me, trying to find some way to stop him.

“When
she was ten,” Dr. Todd prompted.

“When
she was ten, he dragged her outside... naked. She was naked. He
dragged her out into the snow and beat her. Then he,” I
swallowed past the rising sick in my throat, “he pulled out his
pocket knife and carved under her breasts and then carved the word
'wicked' into the skin right above her...”

“Vagina,”
Dr. Todd supplied and my eyes snapped up to find her's just as
horrified as my own.

“Yeah.
He said he wanted to make her so ugly that she could never tempt a
man into the sins of the flesh.”

“Did
your mother intervene?”

“She
set fire to the living room.”

Dr.
Todd was silent for a moment. “Because if she actually went out
to stop him, the punishment would have been...”

“Severe,”
I finished.

“So
your sister ran away and your mother couldn't take the lack of...”

“No,”
I said, shaking my head. “No. She had been planning it. She had
been trying to encourage Fee to run away for years. Just waiting for
the day when she finally got fed up and left. Then the day Fee
finally did, she stole my father's pocket knife, went into the woods,
and slit her wrists.”

Dr.
Todd looked uncharacteristically upset, her head resting against her
palm, her face half-hidden by her hand. “Isaiah, I'm so
sorry...”

“It
was a long time ago,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I
wrapped her and dug her grave and...”

“You?
You buried your mother? Where was your father?”

“He
flew into a rage that day. He was barely coherent. He said her body
could lay there and rot. To let the bears and raccoons and fox eat
her body. But I couldn't... I mean. She was my mother.”

“You
did the right thing,” she said, taking a visible breath and
releasing her face from her hand. Slipping back into her professional
persona. “So your mother was abused by your father when you
were growing up.”

“Yeah.”

“And
your sister.”

“Yup.”

“Were
there any other women around in your life?”

“My
grandmother. We usually saw her once a week. Our shack was in the
woods on her property.”

“What
was she like? Submissive?”

“No.
My grandmother was a bit of a hardass. But she was a religious woman.
And she was never able to stand up to her son. Even when he was a
kid. She let him do whatever he wanted.”

“No
doubt helping create the monster he turned out to be.”

“I
guess.”

“Did
she know about the abuse your mother and sister suffered at her son's
hands?”

“I
think she knew there were beatings. But I don't think she had any
idea how bad it really was. Not until Fee told her as an adult.”

“Do
you think she would have intervened if she had known?”

I
brought up an image of her, steel and elegance. In every way a
strong, intimidating woman. But she never would have stood up to my
father. “No.”

“So
every woman you have seen in your life has been subservient and
cowering around men.”

“No.
I mean... Fee is one of the strongest women anyone has ever...”

“But
you didn't get to know that Fee until later. The women in your life
in your formative years were all abused by, or enabling to, your
father.”

“Yeah.”

Her
head nodded once and there was a long pause. “Why are you
telling me this?”

My
brows drew together. “Wasn't that what I am supposed to be
doing in therapy?”

“Yes,”
she said, smiling slightly, “but it's been years of you keeping
all of this from me. Why are you opening up now?”

I
had no fucking idea. I shrugged. “I don't know.”

“Okay,”
she said, pursing her lips. “Can you tell me more about
this...” she glanced at her notes, “Darcy Monroe woman?”

“She's
interesting. Different I guess. She's been on a bus full of men for
years so she's kinda become very outspoken and demanding around them.
She's very... open in some ways. Like the first night I met her, she
was skinny dipping right in front of me. But she's also really closed
off in others. She doesn't share any personal information really or
express her feelings. Aside from frustration or anger.”

“You're
smiling,” she observed, a brow lifted.

Was
I? I guess I was. “Yeah I guess.”

“You
seem... happier than you were the last time I saw you.”

I
shrugged. “I guess I just needed to get away from things for a
while.”

“On
a metal tour.”

“Hey,”
I said, smiling at her, “it's more play than work.”

“What's
the end game here?”

“What
do you mean?”

“I
mean... what, exactly, are you doing there? Are you going to stay for
the whole tour? Are you just trying to have sex with this Darcy
Monroe woman? What then? Just leave? Avoid seeing her back in the
city?”

I
was silent for a minute. She had a point. I hadn't really made any
kind of plan. “Well, I plan on sleeping with her, that's for
damn sure,” I said, half to myself.

“Sure.
But then what? Because your usual pattern involves having sex with a
woman then completely discarding them. That won't exactly be an
option when you are working for her.”

She
was right. I might have gotten the better of Darcy by making her
writhe and moan and come hard. But in this situation, and for the
first time in my life, I wasn't really the one in charge.

“Isaiah?”
Dr. Todd prompted.

“I
don't know,” I admitted honestly.

She
nodded her head once. “I think that's a good thing.”

“Because
I need to learn to...”

“Isaiah!”
a voice called, actually... screamed across the park. “Get your
fucking ass back here! You're on my time.”

Dr.
Todd's eyebrow raised and I could tell she was fighting to hold back
a smile. “That's Darcy?” she asked.

BOOK: Dissent
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