Abuse: The Complete Trilogy by Nikki Sex Read Free Book Online Page B

“You felt as he intended you to feel. It is the natural curiosity, trust, unconditional love
and innocence of a child that he used against you. He made these games between
you fun?”
    Bullseye. Another fucking head shot, raw and brutal.
    I can barely hold
it together—I feel like I’m bleeding out. This shrewd Frenchman knows
everything. The ‘fun’ we had together makes my stomach churn. The phrase ‘ good,
clean fun’ goes through my mind and I feel like throwing up. It wasn’t good
or clean. It was dirty. Wrong. Repulsive. Sickening.
    “Yes,” I murmur,
choking on the bitter taste of this poisonous truth.
    “But of course,”
he acknowledges his direct hit lightly.
    Right now, I
can’t take anything lightly.
    And yet, André’s tranquil
composure in the face of all this shit, is oddly soothing. He’s a counselor and
it’s quite obvious that he’s heard this sort of thing before. He wasn’t
shocked, horrified or offended. My story is nothing new to him—which is
disturbing in itself.
    The serene manner
in which he listens to my secrets makes me feel that maybe, just maybe, it’s
safe to talk freely. Now that I’ve begun, I want to tell him more. Maybe I’ll
be able to speak of the specifics of the terrible, terrible things I’ve
done .
    Monster!
Pervert!
    My stomach twists
into a tight, painful knot with some of these memories. I close my mouth tightly
so I don’t throw up. Hopefully, I’ll be able to talk about it—once my lips are
able to form words.
    I don’t know if I
can do this—it’s right up there with my greatest fear. If I’m brave enough to
tell him, will I be able to look André in the face again? Or will I see disgust
and contempt in those watchful dark eyes?
    If I can, I hope
to have the courage to tell him everything.

Chapter 8.
    “What has been
done to you is one thing. Yet to really suffer, to truly be burdened with guilt
and shame, such pain always begins not with what has been done to you —but
with what you have done.”
    — André
Chevalier
    ~~~
    My mouth is as
dry the dust surrounding us. I open my water bottle and take a long drink.
    “Children love
games,” André says conversationally. “They live for fun. You were a child, mon
ami. It is instinctive and natural for a child to play with other members
of one’s family.”
    I frown and stare
at my feet. Yeah right.
    “And then, too,
in your case we have the male physiology.”
    I raise my head
to meet his gaze at this comment. An eloquent smile curls his lips, a message I
clearly “get.” Sometimes I feel as if he doesn’t need to say a word for me to
understand him.
    “ Oui, oui, but
of course!” André says. “A penis does not discern the difference. It does not
know right and wrong, good and bad. It is an animal of mindless sensation.
While some of these things your father did were perhaps unpleasant, most of
these games felt good. He made you hard and brought you pleasure, no?”
    My cheeks surge
with heat at this, my deepest shame.
    Two curious rock
squirrels come closer, chasing each other around a tree. Their scolding
chitters sound loud in the quiet of the desert.
    I’ve watched
friends die. I’ve killed people. I’ve suffered grievous physical injuries. I’ve
run, I’ve hidden and fought in terror of certain and imminent death. But I
swear to God—discussing my childhood secrets is the most difficult thing I’ve
ever done.
    André’s simple
question, echoes in my mind: He made you hard and brought you pleasure, no?
    After a long
moment, I admit the accuracy of his statement with a curt nod.
    “ Merci,” he
says, his voice measured. “Thank you for your honesty. This is a most difficult
discussion, oui, oui! Only the most courageous face such a trial. I
salute your bravery. The truth—it can be painful.” He gives a shrug of
philosophical resignation. “And yet, it is still the truth, n’est-ce-pas? ”
    André’s warm
praise eases something inside. He knows what I’m going through.