Shy Kinda Love

by Deanna Eshler

  Kade drops to his knees in front of me and wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me up into the crook of his neck. “I’m so sorry, Shy. I didn’t mean to sound like I was judging you. Please don’t think that my disgust is towards you; it’s for your dad and the asshole that did this to you. Please, Shy, don’t think this changes the way I look at you.” He pauses, as if thinking. “Actually, it does change the way I see you… I now see a girl who has found a way to show unconditional love to her friends when she has not been given that unconditional love by her own family.”

  I pull away from him and wipe at my eyes. “You haven’t heard everything, Kade. You can’t say those things without knowing all the shit choices I made. I’m telling you that I let men have sex with me to get my father’s approval and the kicker is he never loved me anyway!” I suck in a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to keep the emotions from taking over my mind and body. “I thought he loved me. I wanted so desperately to believe he did that I ignored the fact he was pimping me out!”

  “I want to hear everything if you’re ready to tell me. None of this changes how I feel about you or where I want us to go from here. Your strength and survival instinct has made you who you are now.”

  I take in a deep breath and lean my head back onto his shoulder.

  “Okay, Shy, you said that isn’t all of the story. I’m ready hear it all now, but I understand if you need a break.” He sits back on the bed next to me, taking my hand in his. “Hearing all of the pain you have been through is difficult. I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you to tell me and relive it all. So it’s up to you.”

  Chapter 24

  The rest of the story? Tell it now, or drag this out and cause myself more anxiety?

  “I want to tell you now so we can figure out where to go from here, with you having all the dirty details before making any decisions. But can we lie back down? I want you to hold me. It’s easier that way, and more comfortable.”

  Kade places his hands on either side of my face again and makes me look directly at his eyes. “Shy, I know this is hard for you to believe, but I have to say it, and I will say it as many times as you need. All the dirty details won’t change how I feel about you. Got it?” he asks.

  I just nod, not really buying all his hearts-and-butterflies crap. Kade climbs past me into the bed, lies down under the covers, and lifts his arm for me curl into him. Just like he always does.

  “After that first time,” I begin, “it was months before it happened again. But it did happen again. I always thought of it as ‘paying my dad’s debts’ because it only seemed to happen when my dad would be arguing with one of the men. Sometimes it would be months between payments, but because I never knew when one of the men would visit my room, I was always on guard. When I would hear one of my dad’s friends come over I would automatically shut off my bedroom light and lay there praying no one would come in my room. I was always on edge wondering if my door would open. When it did open I never moved. I never fought them. I never said no. I just lay there and let those perverts get off with my body.”

  I stopped speaking, considering all the pieces I have tried to put together before.

  Kade waits a few minutes. “Shy,” he says very hesitantly.

  I feel Kade start to push up under me but I force him back down. “Stay, please, Kade,” I ask quietly.

  He presses his hand to the back of my head then puts his lips to my hair. “Filly, I’m not leaving. I just want to look at you.”

  I shake my head. “No, it’s much easier for me this way.”

  I let out a sigh, and tell him my biggest regret. “I should have fought. They should have had to tie me up. They should have beaten me. Instead I just lay there and let them have me. I mean, this went on for four years, and I never fought back.” I press my face further into Kade’s chest, trying to escape my shame.

  He is still, and very quiet, as if he is trying to sort through all I just said.

  I draw in a long breath, “The guys always went on about how beautiful I was, or how perfect my body was. Or sometimes one of them would say ‘I’ve missed you so much since last time.’ Those ones who would talk to me like they were seducing me always took their time and told me how perfect and beautiful I was. So if anyone tries to tell me those things today, well, it brings back those guys, in that room.”

  I stop talking, trying to halt all the memories attacking my mind. Reminding me of the girl I was, the things I allowed them to do. As I retell the stories I can feel the men on me, their hands running up my shirt, their breath on my cheek as they whisper to me. My body reacts to the memory and I shiver from my toes to my shoulders.

  Kade wraps his arms tighter around my waist, and states, “That night with Luke. He told you how beautiful you were.”

  I nod and take in another deep breath. “Yes. I was no longer with Luke. My mind took a road trip. I can’t imagine what Luke must have thought. Well, actually, I can imagine.” I laugh bitterly. “Anyway, I hated my body back then, because I thought if I hadn’t been so pretty then maybe they wouldn’t come back. I even cut my hair off after one guy kept talking about how beautiful it was. It didn’t matter; it didn’t stop them from screwing me.”

  I stop when Kade lifts a hand to my chin and urges me to look up at him.

  “Shyanne, listen to me. This is something you need to understand. They were not ‘screwing’ you; they were raping you. I don’t care if you didn’t fight back. You were an underage girl who was being raped by men who knew you were not willing.” He says it softly, as if fearful I might run if he speaks too loud.

  I pull my chin from his hand and place my cheek back on his chest. “Part of me knows that, but part of me is so disgusted with myself. I should have done something.”

  Kade says nothing; he just wraps his arm tighter around my waist and sets his other hand on the side of my face, pressing me harder into his chest. I can feel his heart beating under my cheek; it is beating double-time. The way his hand feels against my head is better than any words he could say. I know this is hard for him to hear, and honestly I don’t want him to speak yet. I need his arms around me, his heart under my cheek, and his breath in my hair. All of that gives me the comfort I needed to continue.

  “It all came to an end the night before my eighteenth birthday. I heard my dad talking to someone in the living room so I shut off my light, and laid in my bed waiting. All too soon my door opened and a man entered, closing the door behind him.

  “Before I saw him, I knew he was different. I could smell his cologne. I’ll never forget that smell. When he started to remove my clothes I knew this guy was going to be different. He was much more forceful and he was talking about everything he wanted to do to me. This guy wanted it different. The way it had always played out was I just lay there, crying, while the guys got off with my body. This guy, though, he wanted more. I actually think he needed more. I mean I was lying there on the bed and he was taking off his clothes, then he got a condom out of his pants. When I looked over at him he wasn’t hard. That was my first clue it was going to be different. He told me to roll over and get up on my knees. Again, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. I mean, it may sound ridiculous coming from a girl who was practically a prostitute, but—”

  Kade cut me off. “Stop it, Shy. Don’t call yourself that. You were a daughter who was being horribly manipulated by her father and raped by his sick friends.”

  “Call it whatever makes you feel better, Kade,” I say, tried of that argument. “Anyway, even though I had allowed the other guys to have me, I never actively participated. So this guy wants that from me, and I couldn’t do it. It was a line I just couldn’t cross. So I told him no. He got pissed. He said if I wanted my dad to keep all of his fingers and if I wanted to remain in this happy little home then I would turn over and get on my knees. Again I told him no. This time he reached down, grabbed me by the hips, and tried to flip me over. I started kicking and trying to get away from him. It was
like a light switched on for him. His eyes lit up and he got hard. He kept holding me down and telling me to go ahead and fight. It was like he loved the fact that he was going to have to violently rape me. He got me flipped over and was lying on my back, his hands holding mine above my head and his mouth at my ear telling me all the ways he was going to rape me. So I did something I had never done. I yelled for my dad.”

  I have to stop for a minute because the memories are playing out so vividly I’m mixing up the now with the then. Kade’s arm across my back is too tight, the bed is too hot, his breath is too near… and my dad’s face is so real. His surprise, his confusion, and my hope; it’s all so real.

  Kade seems to know I need to sort it all out because he says nothing. He doesn’t even move to comfort me any more than he had been. Maybe he knows if held me any tighter it would send me running. After a few minutes, I go on.

  “Within a few seconds my dad was standing in the doorway. The creep had my head turned toward the door with my cheek pressed into the mattress so I saw my dad’s face as he tried to sort out the pieces. In all the times his ‘friends’ came to my room, he never saw any of it. He sent the guys to my room then a short time later the guys came out. So I guess I wasn’t surprised that he was unsure what to say or do. The creep finally spoke, telling my dad that I was refusing to cooperate with the deal. The creep was saying something to my dad about the agreement and allowing me to stay in the home. I was crying so hard at that point that I was gasping for breaths. My dad finally made eye contact with me and stated my name, more as a question. I had so much hope that my dad was going pull this guy off of me and throw him out the front door. I shook my head as much as I could and I told my dad I couldn’t do it, I didn’t want to do it. I told him this guy was raping me.”

  I stopped again. Remembering what happened next, and the pain it would forever bring me. “After I told him I couldn’t do it, I saw so many emotions cross my dad’s face—confusion, regret, terror, and disappointment were just a few. The terror of what this creep would do to him was the emotion that won out in the end. My dad looked at me, looked at the creep, and then he dropped his head, walked out of my bedroom, and closed the door behind him.”

  I feel Kade’s body go rigid. After a few slow breaths, I feel him relax slightly, and his arms pull me closer. I feel his lips press against my head. “I’m so sorry… I don’t even know what to say…”

  I’m crying by this point. As much as I wanted to be a hard-ass and tell this story with no tears, reliving these memories is tearing me apart. “You don’t have to say anything. Trust me, what you’re feeling right now for my dad and that guy is nothing compared to how I felt in that moment. I’m not sure what it says about me that I hated my dad more than the creep, and he was one the one that was about to rape me.”

  Kade reaches up and puts both hands on my shoulders, then pushes me back just far enough that I am looking into his eyes. “It says you were a daughter who needed her dad to protect her. A girl who believed her dad loved her, and when he walked out that door she learned she was wrong.”

  Kade states, better than I could, exactly how I felt.

  Chapter 25

  I need to finish this story. I am exhausted and my anxiety is bubbling over from wondering where Kade and I go from here. Still wrapped in Kade’s arms, I pick up where I left off.

  “So after my dad left the room, the creep leaned back down, put his mouth to my ear, and told me this was going to be the best sex of his life. He had both my hands held above my head with one hand and he was moving his other hand up under my shirt.” I try to go on, distancing myself from the story. “He continued to move his hand up my chest, which was smashed against the mattress. He leaned in and tried to kiss me. I bit his lip and tasted blood. He started swearing, telling me all the shit he was going to do. He pulled his hand out of my shirt and pulled my hair from behind. I was crying full-out now, I couldn’t hold back. He pulled my head off the bed and had his face in mine as he spewed his hate: ‘Go ahead and cry, that’s just what I need to make this the perfect night,’ he said.” I pause, trying to slow my breathing.

  Kade has one hand at the back of my head, holding tight, and his lips pressed to the top of my head. I know I should stop—he doesn’t deserve to hear all of the horrible details—but I can’t stop. It feels so good to finally say it out loud. Make it real.

  “I knew it didn’t matter what I did or said, this guy was going to take what he wanted, as rough as he wanted. And so I decided I was going to fight. For the first time ever, I was going to fight. As he adjusted, to remove his own pants and mine, he had to let go of my hands. I didn’t hesitate; I shoved him and moved to my nightstand. Although I’d never fought back, I had dreamed many times of fighting, and so I had a knife stashed. I opened the drawer and pointed the knife at him. I told him to stop or I would use it.”

  I pause, trying to separate the truth from what I can tell him. Kade has me wrapped so tight in his arms and he’s rocking me slightly. Noticing I stopped, Kade kisses me on top of my head and asks if I need to be done. I shake my head. “No, I just needed to breathe.” He loosens his embrace so he can lean back a little. With one hand he holds my chin and lifts it so my eyes meet his “You don’t have to finish. If you want me to hear the rest, I will listen, but you do not have to finish.”

  I shake my head again. “I’ve come this far, Kade. I’ve never told anyone these details. I want to tell you. I’m sorry if this is too much for you.”

  Kade places both hands on either side of my face. “Don’t you ever apologize for wanting to share your story with me. I am honored, Shyanne.”

  I just nod and pull my face from his hands. I pull my legs up onto the bed and cross them in front of me, sitting Indian-style. “Basically, my threat with the knife only pissed the guy off. He lunged at me, we wrestled, and he won. Once he had the knife in hand, he looked me in the eyes and smiled, then he sliced into my right side.”

  I close my eyes and draw in a slow breath, because this is where the story ends for Kade. As good as it feels to share this much, I know I can’t tell him that when the creep—a.k.a.Samuel Munro—dropped the knife and turned his back to me, I picked it up and lunged at him. One direct hit to his kidney, and back out again, was all it took to make me a murderer. I can’t tell him how I laid on the floor, hands covering my own wound, watching Samuel die.

  Kade leans his head back and closes his eyes. “He stabbed you,” he says, sounding exasperated. “I’m really hoping that you tell me next your father came in, rescued you, and called the police.”

  I look up at Kade and shake my head. He sighs, then places a hand at the back of my neck and gently pulls me down so that my head is lying in his lap. His fingers move through my hair as he pushes it away from my face. Then he slowly trails his hand down my right side until his fingers are at the hem of my shirt. I turn my head slightly and see that he is asking a question with his eyes. I close my eyes and give him a small nod.

  Kade takes in a long breath, then lifts the hem of my shirt until he reaches the ugly scar that will forever remind me of my living nightmare. I feel Kade breathe out so I look up see him staring at my scar, mouth in a tight line and jaw clenched. I say nothing, just wait for him to regain his control. After several long moments of deep breathing and running his thumb over my scar, Kade closes his eyes and asks, “How did you get away?”

  I hesitate, recalling the story I created to tell him. I watch Kade’s jaw as his muscle clenches and unclenches. I decide to try getting closer to him, to hold him. I tell myself I’m doing this to help him relax, not because I need the closeness. As I move to sit up, Kade’s hand presses into me, trying to keep me from running. I reach down and grasp his hand and tell him, “I need you to hold me.” With that, Kade releases his hold. I sit up and move to position myself between his legs, with my back to his front. I lean against him and he instantly wraps his arms around my middle and lays his cheek against my head. I can feel his emotional strugg
le through the race of his heart and the rise and fall of his chest against my back. I decide to finish the story so we can end this torture.

  Of course Kade can’t know that Ryder made contact with the FBI, I testified against a ring of criminals, and I’m now in the witness protection program. No, Kade needs a safe version of the truth. I close my eyes and visualize my story.

  “The guy stood and told me he’d be back and told me I would pay. He took the knife and left. Shortly after he left my dad came home. He found me on my floor, losing blood. He called one of his associates who must have been a doctor. The doc came to the house, fixed me up, and left. That’s when I threw a wrench into the whole party, finally. I called Ryder and he came to my house. I told my dad he was going to have to start paying his own debt. Ryder and I moved away that night, and I never looked back.”

  “That’s it?” Kade asks. “Your dad let you go, and the guys, they never came looking for you? I mean, you were a big risk, having seen and heard things.” Kade sounds skeptical. Of course he does, he’s practically a genius and I’m trying to feed him a load of crap.

  I’m glad my back is to him because I’m a horrible liar and he would surely see that. “Yeah, Ryder threatened my dad that I would turn them in, but only if they came looking for me.”

  “Huh. So you’ve never heard from your dad since?” Kade asks, clearly not buying the crap I’m selling.

  I shake my head. “No.” I try to get away from more questions. “So, now you know what I have never told anyone else. Ryder knows, but only because he was there.”