Beautifully Broken 4: Until We Fly

“My dear,” he says, ever-so-sweetly. “They would do anything I ask them to do.  That’s how much weight I pull in Washington.”

I stare at him and his eyes narrow as he gets up and walks toward me.

I have to fight to remain still, to stand my ground.

“You can’t run from me.”

He takes another step toward me, then another.

“I always get what I want.”

He stops right in front of me, close enough that I have to breathe in his hateful cologne, and smell his fetid, hot breath.

“Ask me, Nora.”

I turn my gaze up to meet his.  His eyes are as cold as they are faded and old.

I seal my lips, unwilling to do it.

“Ask. Me.”

He grabs one of my hands and squeezes it, pushing the delicate bones of my hands together.  I grit my teeth with the pain.

He squeezes harder.

“What do you want?” I finally ask, to make him quit hurting me.

“You.”

I fight the urgent need to vomit.

“He’s getting in the way of what I want,” William says pleasantly now, releasing my hand.  “I want you to leave his cottage, and come with me for a trip to Abu Dhabi.  We’ll say it’s for business.  But I assure you, it won’t be business.”

His hand juts out and cups my crotch, his fingernails digging into my tender flesh there, biting into me.  He likes pain.  I know this.  I’ve experienced it before.  He likes inflicting pain.

I step backward, yanking away from him, from his evil touch.

“You don’t want me.  You wanted my mother and you couldn’t have her.  I’m not my mother.”

William’s wrinkled mouth pulls into a cynical smile.  “What a clever girl you are.  It might’ve started out that way, I wanted you because your mother had to watch me chase you and she could never do anything about it because she’s a helpless cunt.  But I want you now. Your mother is old.”

So are you.   I swallow the acid on my tongue.

“And if I say no?”

William raises a bushy eyebrow, as if he knows I’d never dare.

“If you said no, you’d be a very foolish girl.  I’ll ruin your meat-headed boyfriend, then I’ll ruin you. And don’t for one minute think that at least you’d have each other… because after I’m finished with him, he’ll never want you.  Not ever.  Do you think he’d really want someone who willingly entered into an incestuous affair with her very own uncle and enjoyed it so much?”

Bile rises into my throat as he pulls out a pack of pictures and shoves them across the table.

It’s me.  Giving my own uncle a blow job.

From the angle of the camera, you can’t see that my hands are bound behind my back.  All you can see is the tattoo on my shoulder, a unique identifier.  The twisted anchor, the words.  Fluctuat nec mergitur.  It’s most definitely me.

And it’s most definitely my uncle.  His wrinkled hand is on the back of my head, forcing me to take more of him in my throat… and his very unique signet ring is on his finger.

My uncle smiles pleasantly as he tucks the pictures back in his pocket.

“There’s more.  There are many of you f**king me, you little whore,” he tells me, each word icy.  “And I don’t care if it gets out… you were of legal age and if anyone questions me, I’ll simply say that you’re a wanton whore who pursued me for years and in a moment of drunkenness, I gave in to you.  If you look at the pictures, it certainly appears that you’re enjoying yourself.”

I wasn’t.

I wasn’t enjoying myself.  I was trying to get through it, to not die on the inside.

But he’s right.  You can’t see that on the pictures.  In the pictures, my make-up looks smeared from passion, not from tears.  You can’t see how my hands are bound, you can’t see the lash-marks from my uncle’s whip.

You can’t see any of it… except for a girl ha**ng s*x with her own uncle.

William stares at me, very sure that I’ll be compliant.  “Even if Brand still wanted you somehow after I ruin him,” he says calmly. “He’ll never want you after he sees what a f**ked up slut you are.”

Reality crashes down around me, ugly and hot.

No one in their right mind would want me after seeing those pictures.

No matter how I look at it, I’ll lose Brand.

But I can’t let Brand lose everything… not because of me.  He’s worked too hard to forget his own ugly past.  It wouldn’t be fair if he lost everything now.

“You have until midnight tomorrow night to leave that cottage,” my uncle says pleasantly. “I’ll meet you at your apartment in California.  I know you kept it, even after your father said to let it go.  It doesn’t matter.  It’ll come in handy for us.  We’ll put it to good use until our flight leaves from LAX for Abu Dhabi.”

I can’t control my vomit.

I lean to the side and heave, over and over.  I empty my stomach, then stand up again, wiping my mouth with my hand.

“I see we have an understanding,” William nods.  “Good. I’ll see you in California, my dear.”

He turns and starts to leave, but I stop him.

“What kind of monster are you?” I whisper.   “I’m your flesh and blood.  You held me when I was a baby.  You’re the criminal, not Brand.”

William actually laughs, but it’s hardened and ugly.  “Nora, you and I both know you tried to seduce me from the time you were small.  Those bathing suits you used to wear… you always made a point of walking away from me in a way that showed off your tight little ass.”

Bile bubbles up again.  “My ass was little because I was a child,” I spit. “I never tried to seduce you. You’re a sick f**k who preys on children.”

William stares at me innocently. “I have never preyed on children,” he defends himself.  “I didn’t have my way with you until you were an adult, my dear. That’s not a crime.”

“No, but it’s an abomination,” I tell him, all the while fighting the nausea again.

“To each their own,” William says easily.  “You have until midnight tomorrow night to leave for California.  Don’t be late.”

He turns and strides from the room and I can still feel where his fingernails cut into my vagina. I rush to the bathroom and run a handful of paper towels under scalding hot water.  I can’t take a shower so this is the next best thing.  I seclude myself in a bathroom stall, wiping and wiping and wiping, trying to get his finger prints off.