Roman

23 - Can't forget the past

****Trigger Warning. This chapter includes thoughts of past rape.****

Marley

David: Tickets are booked for next month.

Paris, here we come!

I sigh frustratedly and drop my phone on the couch beside me.

Why isn’t he listening to me?

I’ve told David a hundred times that I’m not going to Paris with him. Sure, my head keeps telling me to do it, that it would be safe for both Romany and me to be with David. In Paris, we’d have a normal life. However, I haven’t been normal since my father took me away from David and sold me off to Bulldog. Plus, David is hardly the type of man any child should be around. God, I will never be normal again because I just cannot get the past out of my head.

These past six weeks have been tough on me, my mind, my very soul.

I don’t know if spending time with David isn’t doing me more damage than good. The more time I spend with him, the more I think about the life I had after him.

Five years ago.

‘I love you, baby. I’ll be home later. Have fun with your dad. I’ll miss you while you’re gone.’

I smile up at him, my handsome man, the love of my life, my David. ‘I love you, too.’

We made love early as the sun rose around us. He held me close to him, and I felt so loved. I always do until he makes comments about my thighs being too thick, my ass being too big, and the fact he wants me to see a plastic surgeon should tell me that he’s the biggest jerk walking the planet, but I love him, there is no doubt about that.

He’ll learn to love my body. He’s going to have many years to get used to it. Or maybe I’ll just do what he wants; at least that way, I’ll be the woman he’s always dreamed I’ll be.

I leave him where he is and rush out to my dad’s car. I climb in and slam the door. His car is nothing special. An old Volvo, don’t ask me what kind, I’m rubbish when it comes to cars. I don’t even have one of my own. David says I don’t need one. I’m twenty and getting married; it’s the husband’s job to drive his wife around.

It would be nice to have a car of my own; that way, I could go shopping with my friends without having David drop me off and pick me up like a child. Anyway, I’m going to need my own car soon; we’re both going to be doctors, and we’ll have different shifts. It just wouldn’t be logical for us to have only one car.

‘You seem quiet, Dad. Is anything wrong?’

‘Nothin’.’ He doesn’t take his eyes off the road. ‘Maybe you should have worn pants.’

I look down at my white skirt and heels. I’m wearing an off-the-shoulder shirt, and my hair is in a ponytail. I always wear makeup; David says I need it to hide the natural sag of my face.

I know what you’re thinking. David is a jerkoff for the way he talks to me and puts me down. But he doesn’t mean it to be hurtful; he’s trying to help me better myself.

Besides, it’s not like my father has ever been nice to me. I’m a disappointment; he tells me enough.

‘What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? We’re only going over your speech.’

‘Yeah.’

I’m quiet for the rest of the journey. I am nervous as hell as we pull up outside a house I don’t recognize. It looks derelict.

What the hell are we doing here?

‘We just need to see someone. It will only take a minute. It’s about your wedding.’

My wedding.

Three weeks!

I can’t wait.

My father hasn’t been happy about this wedding at all. He hasn’t liked letting go of control over me. Not that he still doesn’t control me in many ways, but he had to hand most of it over to David, and Dad hates that.

We’re quiet as he walks me inside. The place smells terrible; weed smoke, alcohol, and se.x. It’s nauseating.

I pay no attention to the people milling around, even though it’s hard when the handful of women in the open room to the right are all naked, high, drunk, and being fucke.d.

Oh, Daddy, where the hell have you brought me?

We stop outside a shabby door. Dad knocks, and someone yells for him to come in. Dad opens the door, and we both walk inside. There’s nothing in the room but a massive desk with chairs all around it. There’s only one man in the room. Oh, God. He’s disgusting. He’s smiling at me, but his discolored teeth make my stomach turn over.

I can tell he’s tall and well-built, but he also smells of sweat, booze, and weed. The room is rank with it. He has scars all over his face and hands. He’s a biker; any i***t can see that, but I can’t read the patch with his name from here.

Why has my father brought me to a filthy drug house, a cesspit filled with bikers and whore.s?

I want to leave. I don’t understand why my dad has brought me here. I look up at him, but he’s not looking at me. There’s something in his eyes that tells me he’s about to do something awful.

‘She’s exactly as you described her. Don’t look a day over fifteen.’ I swallow hard at the ugly pig’s words. It’s true I don’t look my age. I’m short and youthful-looking, and that seems like a terrible thing right now. But I do know that I don’t look fifteen.

‘Will she do?’

What does he mean?

‘You sure you’re willin’ to hand your daughter over like this, Tom?’

Hand me over?

What the fuc.k?

I grab my father’s arm. ‘Daddy, what’s going on?’

‘Will it put an end to my debts, Bulldog?’

‘Depends how tight she is.’ Oh God, I don’t think I can breathe. I am so scared that I’m shaking all over. ‘Bring her to me.’

My dad grabs my arm, I scream and fight him, but he’s stronger. He drags me over to the filthy biker by my waist and throws me at him. He catches me, spins me around, and I’m still kicking and screaming as he bends me over the table.

‘Daddy! Daddy, help me!’ I scream, but he doesn’t help me; he watches with no emotion on his face as the filthy biker holds me down with his hand on the back of my head. I’m fighting, but I can’t get out of his grip.

He lifts my skirt, I’m screaming, fighting, but it doesn’t help. My father doesn’t help. Bulldog rips down my panties – yes, right in front of my father – kicks my feet apart, and shoves two fingers right inside of me. I’m sobbing to myself at how painful it is, how painful all of this is.

He groans to himself like assaulting me like this is turning him on. ‘She’s damn fuckin’ tight, Tom. I might rip her apart.’

‘Daddy.’ I sob quietly, but my father doesn’t even acknowledge my distress; he doesn’t even look at me.

Since when did my father turn into a monster that would do this to me?

He’s always been strict, vile, actually, with some of the things he did to my mother and me when I was younger, but I never thought he would do something like this to me. He just stood there and watched!

‘Do we have a deal, Bulldog?’

‘We have a deal. Now, get the fuc.k out so I can break in my new toy.’

‘No!’ I scream. ‘Don’t leave me here, Daddy! Help me, please!’ However, he doesn’t help me. He walks out of the room without so much as a backward glance.

‘Now, I wish I could tell you this won’t hurt, but I ain’t a liar. It’s gonna really, really hurt.’ He licks my cheek, and I cringe. I want to die.

I don’t want to scream, but as he slams himself inside of me, I have no choice; it really fuckin.g hurts to the point I can’t breathe.

‘That’s it, cunt, fight me.’ I can’t seem to make myself stop fighting him, even though the more I fight, the harder he fuck.s me. This is what he gets off on, the struggle.

‘Fuc.k, I ain’t gonna last! You’re as tight as a ten-year-old!’

Yes, I vomit in my mouth. I’m being r***d by a pedophile who wants me because I look like a child, and my father gave me to him like I was never anything to him.

Bulldog yanks himself out of me, spins me around, and pushes me to my knees. Then his coc.k is in my mouth, his hands on my head so I can’t pull away. I’m trying not to throw up, but it tastes like he hasn’t washed in weeks! Then he cum.s in my mouth, forces me to swallow, then beats the living hell out of me.

I struggled only a few times after that day. He passed me around like a toy, told me I would never be leaving, never see David or my mother again, and I knew I would die before I willingly gave him what he wanted.

Present day.

It kills me that I can’t get this shi.t out of my head. That was the day everything changed for me. That was the day I used to wish I could go back and change things. If I’d just refused to go with my father, he wouldn’t’ve given me to Bulldog.

But I know that’s not true; he would have taken me eventually. There is never any escaping fate. Fate is what took me away from David and his constant belittlements. Fate is what brought me to find Wrench in the woods. Fate is what took me to his clubhouse to have his family come to collect him. Fate is what drew my eyes to Roman that day, and fate is what brought us together.

It was fate that I got pregnant with Romany. Fate that had me falling in love with a man who wants me to be nothing and no one other than who I truly am.

Roman has done nothing but love me and give me space to think things through. He even stands back while I meet up with David. I feel like the ultimate bitc.h because if this were the other way around, I would be so heartbroken that Roman would be off meeting his ex.

David: I need an answer, Marley!

Marley: Stop pressuring me, David!

David: I’m not, but I don’t have much time, Marley.

I want you home with me. What part of that is hard to understand?

I seriously want to crawl under a rock and hide until this goes away. I don’t know what I should do. I know Romany, and I would be happy in Paris. We’d have stability with David.

But do I really want the put-downs he will no doubt give me about my body and the shape it is now after having a baby?

Of course, I no longer look like a fifteen-year-old, but for everything I’ve been through, I still get comments on how young I look. It’s all to do with how small I am in height. I just naturally have one of those faces that make me look young.

It’s a blessing and a curse, I guess.

To be honest, I can’t get the thought out of my head that Romany would suffer the same kind of belittlement from David, and I can’t bear it. I never want my daughter to think she is less than she is because my baby is perfect; Roman will make sure she knows it, and so will I.

My phone rings, and I sigh. It’s David.

Nevertheless, I answer it. “Hello?”

“I’m sorry I snapped at you, baby, I’m just frustrated.”

“And you think I’m not? You’re pressuring me, David, and it’s not fair.”

“I don’t want to pressure you. I just want to get the fuc.k away from here so we can start our lives together.”

It’s like hitting my head off a brick wall. I know I’m not being fair to him as much as I’m not to Roman. I’m keeping them both dangling, and I can’t keep doing that.

“Look, why don’t I take you out?”

“I don’t know, David.”

“Come on. No pressure. No talking about the future. Just you and me and lots of fun like we used to have.”

“I know your kind of fun.” I laugh.

David used to be a bit of a daredevil in his time. One of those BMX lunatics who ride down railings or halfpipes doing tricks and end up breaking their bones.

“Funfair?”

God, I haven’t been to one of those in forever!

“Sounds good.”

He tells me when and where. I haven’t given him my address because I don’t think it would be right to have him here; this is Roman’s house. I end the call just for it to start ringing again.

This time it’s Roman, and my heart starts pounding in the best way.

“Hey.”

“Hey, baby girl.”

God, kill me now before my ovaries explode!