Our Shattered Pieces

by M. E. Clayton

  However, when all that shit had gone down with Rowan, that’s when my desires had started to bother me. I mean, how could I want to treat my sexual partners like they were there just for me to use for my sick pleasure when someone had been doing the same to my sister?

  Granted, consent could be the argument here, but I still wasn’t sure about that. And that’s why Katy had been the perfect choice for me. Her refusal to be treated as anything less than perfect kept my demons at bay. Dating Katy was supposed to condition me to be better.

  However, sometimes I’d slip and pull up porn and rub one out to a woman getting fucked within an inch of her life. Sometimes she’s with one guy, sometimes she’s not. But every single time she’s being fucked, she’s being called a whore or a slut. She’s being treated like all that mattered were those three holes that were made for cock.

  Now, while I was positive that I couldn’t do the whole threesome thing, I knew how to use toys to enhance the experience. With Tamara, there had been plenty of times when I’d double penetrate her using her favorite dildo. I was pretty sure we hadn’t left anything to the imagination other than threesomes. And while I hadn’t been in love with her, I wasn’t about sharing. I never have been.

  So, I had a lot of issues I needed to work though, and counseling hadn’t seemed that bad of an idea when my parents had finished with me.

  Because I knew I needed help.

  And what were the odds of finding another woman who could separate what we did in the bedroom with how I respected her out of it? Women were taught to be modest and worthy. Sure, there were plenty of half-naked girls on the internet these days, making tons of money. But a woman controlling how she represents herself to the world and a guy shoving her to her knees, so he can cum all over her face were two very different things.

  It was all about consent.

  It was taboo to like being fucked like a slut. No girl was supposed to like that. And even hookers should have the choice of what they’re willing to endure for the sake of their own pleasure.

  Lying in bed, I knew tomorrow my parents, Rowan, and I would all come together, and it’d be okay again. I knew the rest of the weekend would be fine and no one was going to hold my temporary lapse of judgement against me.

  I also knew that as soon as I moved back here, I was going to have to call that counselor.

  I had to.

  Chapter 11

  Molly~

  My encounter with Sawyer and Calvin had shaken me up more than I had wanted to admit to myself. Even if there were only two more months left of school for them, it was still two months where they could tell anyone who would listen what had happened. And it wouldn’t matter if I denied it because, as seniors, they were popular enough that people would believe them.

  Never mind that it’d be the truth.

  But what really had me questioning everything was Lorcan’s visit. If what I did ever got out, how hurt would he feel with the blindsiding of it all? How would he be able to defend me if he had no idea what was going on? And how humiliated would he feel finding out by someone else?

  My entire being hurt with the struggle between telling him and not telling him. My brother will never be able to look at me the same, but by confessing willingly, I had a chance to still maintain the trust and closeness between us. Having him find out by someone else would ruin that. And with social media being what it was, I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that he couldn’t find out all the way in Texas.

  And it was such a scary thing to disappoint the person closest to you.

  Terrifying, in fact.

  But I had to tell him.

  I had to.

  We’d been in his suite, eating dinner, catching up, just hanging out with the television on in the background just in case something caught our eye. Running out of ice, Lorcan had gone back to the ice machine to get some more. Waiting on him, I knew I was going to tell him when he got back.

  Pacing the hotel room, I practiced a bunch of ways I could tell him, but it was stupid, really. No matter how I said the words, they were going to be humiliating and hurt him, anyway. And because of that simple fact, when Lorcan walked back into the hotel suite, I stopped pacing. I looked over at my brother, and the smile on his face died instantly as he took in my tears.

  “Molly, what’s wrong? What happened?”

  “I…I ha…have something to tell you.” His face immediately paled, and I knew my words were bringing back bad memories. “I’m not pregnant,” I quickly rushed out. “It’s…it’s not that.”

  He let out a deep breath. “Then what is it?” he asked, walking towards me.

  I glanced at the seating area of the suite. “Let’s…let’s sit down.”

  Putting his hands on my shoulders, he led us to the couch, and sitting next to each other, I wondered how I was going to get the words out.

  “Okay,” he said, taking a steady breath, readying himself. “What is it?”

  I didn’t say anything for a really long time, and Lorcan didn’t push. Even as worried as he must be, he didn’t push. He just waited patiently, and the fear of losing him was real.

  “I’m sick,” I finally confessed. “But…but not in the way you might be thinking.”

  Those eyes of his, the ones that matched my own, narrowed. “Meaning?”

  “I did something shameful, Lorcan,” I whispered, horrified that I was having this conversation with my brother, but knowing I had to. It would destroy him to find out from someone else. “I…I did something shameful, only, I think something’s wrong with me because…sometimes, I don’t feel all that shameful about it.”

  He didn’t comment right away, but eventually he said, “Molly Doll, I can see how extremely hard this is for you, but…but I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Ethan and I didn’t grow apart,” I said, admitting my lie. “That’s not the reason I broke things off with him.”

  I could see the tension in his shoulders pulling his back straight. “Then why did you break up with him?”

  Omitting as many details as I could, I told my brother everything. I told him that Ethan had begun planting fantasies in my head and how we had played one out. I told him how we’d already been in bed when Sawyer and Calvin had joined us, and I hadn’t been repulsed. Then I told him how I had overheard Ethan’s plan to basically prostitute me out to make ends meet.

  While I could only bring myself to tell him the basics, Lorcan had gotten the picture loud and clear. And when he jumped up from the couch and started pacing, threatening to kill Ethan, I believed him. Lorcan’s temper was one of the reasons I hadn’t wanted to tell him in the first place.

  “Fucking kill him,” he snarled. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

  I stood up, not really knowing what to do or say, but I needed to say something. “But…but I’m the one who agreed to…oh, God…”

  Lorcan stopped pacing, and planting his hands on my shoulders, he shook me a little. “Molly, listen to me.” Looking my brother in the eye, after what I’ve just told him, was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. “He manipulated you-”

  Tears started falling. “But I liked it, Lorcan,” I cried. “I was-”

  “Molly, forget that,” he said. “Just…forget that and listen to me for a second.” All I could do was nod. “Couples do all kinds of things to…for pleasure, or whatever. That’s not the issue here. That sonofabitch didn’t ask if you wanted to experiment while watching a movie, or eating dinner, or taking a fucking walk at the park.” His grey eyes were storms, and I hated that I was the one who put that look in them. “He had those assholes on standby and asked you while you were emotionally and sexually vulnerable. He made sure you’d be in the middle of a sexual high when he asked you for your consent. Don’t tell me that motherfucker didn’t manipulate you and the situation to his advantage.”

  “But what about…about…”

  “Molly, as much as it fucking kills me that you’re humil
iating yourself to tell me something I never wanted or needed to know about you, I’m telling you there is nothing wrong with you.”

  “I’m a pervert, Lorcan,” I cried out. “Of course, something is wrong with me. Who…how can I like something…oh, God…”

  “Molly, a pervert is someone who dismisses consent. Someone who peeks into windows, rapes, molests, violates, and all sorts of other attacks on someone’s choices.” His face softened a bit. “What you enjoy is your business, and yours alone, as long as it’s consensual, Molly.”

  I stuck my face in his chest, and he held me as I cried. “It doesn’t feel that way, Lorcan,” I told him brokenly. “I feel…dirty.”

  “I’m going to fucking kill them all, Molly,” was his only response to that. “Fucking kill them all.”

  That night, after I cried myself to sleep and Lorcan tucked me into bed, he had hunted down the three men who lived in my nightmares. And the only reason I knew this was because, the next day, I noticed his knuckles had been beaten all to hell.

  Nothing about it was said over breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Nothing was said about it the next day either. Or the next.

  Nothing was said until Lorcan was on his way back to the airport to go home. And his suggestion of some counseling sounded like just what I might need.

  Chapter 12

  Grayson~

  One month left.

  One month left of school, and the next phase of my life begins, and it’s supposed to begin in California, but I found myself questioning if it was possible to create a life where I might run into that asshole again.

  I doubted it.

  Of course, I could live anywhere in California that I wanted to, but the plan had always been to go back home. To teach in the town where I grew up and shape the minds of the children of the parents I once went to school with. To coach where felt comfortable.

  To lead a fucking normal life because I wanted to be normal.

  I really, really wanted to be normal.

  “Ugh, I always hate when girls do that,” Katy huffed.

  Coming back to the present, I looked over at where she was typing away on her phone. We were both sprawled out on her bed, where we’d just finished redressing. “What?”

  She rolled over on her back, her phone still in her hands. “Girls who ask for it, then get all pissy when they get it.”

  My entire body grew cold.

  “What?”

  Rolling over on her side, she propped her head up under her hand, her weight resting on her elbow. “Some girl posted about some guy taking advantage of her, but, really, Grayson, her outfit was her just asking for it.”

  I just stared at her.

  What the fuck?

  “What in the hell are you talking about?”

  Katy rolled her eyes. “She posted a picture of them together, I guess…” She shrugged a shoulder. “I guess to prove they were at the same party, and she’s dressed like a slut in it.”

  “And what does a slut dress like, Katy?” I asked, not bother to disguise the bite in my tone.

  “What do you think, Grayson?” This time, she sat up as she looked at me with wide eyes. “C’mon, you get these girls who go buy quadruple double Fs, then get offended when a guy stares at her chest.”

  The words flew out of my mouth before I could call them back,

  Not that I would have.

  Giving her body a pointed look from head to toe, I said, “Because the body you have was God-given, Katy,” I spat, my issues front and center.

  She jumped up from the bed, outrage all over her pretty face. “Are you kidding me?”

  “You just said a girl deserved to get taken advantage of because of a skirt she wore, Katy. So, by that logic, you deserve to have the same thing happen to you,” I argued. “You had your parents pay tens of thousands of dollars for those tits, hips, and ass you have. So, then that must mean you’re just asking for guys to help themselves, because why else would you go purchase the kind of body you have?”

  “You bastard!” she yelled. “It’s not the same thing!”

  “You’re right, it’s not,” I fired back. “That girl wore a skirt to look cute. You underwent hours of painful surgery at the fucking age of, what? Eighteen? All so you could draw attention to yourself.”

  “What is wrong with you?” she hissed, shocked that mild-mannered, easy-going Grayson Lewis would dare talk to her like this.

  “Right now, what’s wrong with me is you.”

  Katy flung her arms out beside her. “You’re being horrible, and all because I made a random comment about a girl you don’t even know?”

  My eyes narrowed and my temper soared at that. “What’s horrible is finding out that you’re the type of person who would believe that a woman deserves to get taken advantage for whatever reason.”

  “You don’t even know the girl,” she repeated.

  “That’s not the point!” I roared, disgusted with myself for dating someone with those kinds of views. “You actually believe that sexual assault is excusable.”

  I was done here.

  Knowing I couldn’t stand to be in her presence any longer, I grabbed for my shoes. Putting them on, I inwardly cringed at how I had really believed Katy was good for me. I had dated her for so long believing that she’s what I needed to be better.

  “Are you leaving?” she asked, her voice laced with surprised.

  Tying my shoes, I said, “I’m leaving and I’m leaving you.”

  “Oh, my God,” she cried. “Over a stupid fight?”

  I stood up, loathed with how blind I’ve been with this girl. “See? The fact that you think this is a stupid fight further proves that you’re missing the entire point.” I knew I was reacting badly because of Rowan, but my opinion on the matter still would have been the same, no matter what.

  What type of fucking person believes women deserve to be taken advantage of?

  “Grayson, we’ve been together for-”

  “It was all coming to an end after graduation anyway, Katy,” I snapped. “What difference does it make now?”

  Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “But I thought…I…thought…”

  “You thought what?”

  “You were really going to go back to California?”

  God, pussy really did make men fucking stupid. How could I have not seen any of this? How could I have dated this woman for so long and not see what a fucking piece of work she was?

  “I mean, I thought-”

  “We’re done here, Katy,” I said and walked out of her bedroom, trying to get out of her apartment as quickly as I could.

  “Grayson!” she called after me. “You can’t be serious!”

  “Lose my number, Katy,” I called back. “We are so fucking done.”

  “You asshole!”

  “I am,” I agreed. “I really, really am.”

  I slammed the door behind me as I left her apartment, feeling like I needed a goddamn drink. And as I got into my car, I thanked my lucky stars that I had never introduced Katy to Rowan. Sure, Rowan knew about her, but I’d never taken Katy to meet Rowan personally, and I couldn’t be happier about that right now.

  One more month.

  One more fucking month, and then…

  I didn’t fucking know.

  Chapter 13

  Molly~

  Upon the end of the semester, I had spent an entire month at a very expensive counseling center.

  I had spent a month purging my secrets.

  I had spent a month asking questions.

  I had spent a month listening, and listening, and listening.

  I had spent a month wondering why the counseling wasn’t fucking working.

  I had spent a month in that place, and I had ended up walking out of there the same way I had walked in.

  Chapter 14

  Grayson~

  Upon graduation, I had started seeing a counselor every other week.

  We talked about generalities, at first, but soon, all my sec
rets were free.

  We talked about Rowan and my sense of guilt a lot.

  We talked about my struggle with doing the right thing versus being the real me.

  We talked about what I needed versus what I wanted.

  We talked every other week about all that stuff and more, and I was still the same man I was when I had started this shit.

  Part

  II

  Chapter 15

  Molly – (Ten Years Later)~

  People thought charity work was easy because it was optional. They figured because you didn’t have to offer your time and services, how hard could it be? But then, if that were the case, why did people write checks more than they offered their time or services?

  Because charity work was hard as hell, that’s why.

  And if you thought those same ‘selfless’ people writing checks weren’t judging the food, décor, venue, drinks, waitstaff, the patterned tiled floor? Well, you’d be wrong. Because they did.

  Charity galas and events were very rarely attended by people who really cared about the project. Most of them were attended by people who needed a tax break or wanted to be seen in the elite social circles of Chicago.

  So, why would I do this to myself?

  Because, even from a young age, I’d always been about encouraging women to help lift up the woman next to her.

  Growing up at the top of the food chain, I had been able to slide through life without being bullied or harassed, if I didn’t count that one time in college. However, I’d seen a lot of it happen as it typically does in high school, and I had never been the type of person to let that slide. I’d had blogs, support groups, and had even done some freelance editorials, all with the purpose of helping females see the potential inside themselves.

  And now, a million years later, I was doing charity work for several different women’s groups. And though exhausting at times, I really loved it. Well, except when Lorcan referred to my projects as new jobs. He always made it sound as if I couldn’t hold down a job.

  The jerk.

  After graduating from UC Berkeley, I had come back to Chicago. Having always been close to my family, it was hard to imagine living anywhere else. And with Lorcan Sr. and Emilia Cavanaugh being part of the Chicago wealthy, doors had opened for me and Lorcan easily.