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A man cannot destroy the savage in him by denying its impulses. The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. –Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
Not that I’d want the freedom to indulge in anything at any time anyway. Things were more special when they were rare.
Power and control were addictive. And I didn’t want to like it, because it made me sick. It made me Damon.
I was Catholic by birth, as was my friend Damon, but in practice, we were Catholic in the same way Taco Bell was a Mexican restaurant. I played along for my mother, while Damon played along for amusement.
He took pleasure in being anyone’s devil.
“I like that my friends are bad for me,” I said, continuing. “And I like to watch.”
“I like to watch people. Something new I just discovered about myself.” I ran my hand through my hair, feeling the ends rough with gel. “Wanting to be in it, to feel what they’re feeling, is almost hotter than actually being a part of it.” I looked up at the dark screen, seeing just a sliver of it left open. “And I like hiding it. I don’t want my friends to know me as well as they think they do. I don’t know why.”
“There are just some things that are more exciting when they’re a secret.”
“But then guests started noticing her.” “Her?” “A woman—dancing,” she answered. “Dancing,” I repeated, suddenly a little more interested. A secret floor? A secret entrance? A ghost girl?
“Always alone, always hiding.” It couldn’t be true, but I kind of wanted to believe it was. It was like a treasure hunt, wasn’t it? A girl, concealed from the world, hiding. Right under everyone’s nose.
“I was ancient at six. Can you hear the sound of that?”
Ancient at six. She’d grown up too soon. That’s what she’d meant.
“We’re only ever good because there are consequences,” I told her. “Take those away, and everyone shows their true self. Kind of like taking off a mask.”
“I never make mistakes,” I replied. “I’m either right or I’m learning.
Jaku niku kyo shoku.” I recited one of the many Japanese sayings he’d spouted over the course of my life. The weak are meat, the strong eat.
Rich boys playing at being bad. But the joke was on them. You’re not really bad when you only do shit under the security of never having to suffer consequences.
And eight days later, he shows up on my mother’s doorstep. He hands her nine thousand four hundred sixty-two dollars, a Rolex, and some emerald earrings. And he takes me home with him.
“The devil I know is better than the devil I don’t, okay?”
was going to fall hard if he wasn’t careful. That would totally destroy my street cred.
Don’t make the same mistakes. Don’t let him touch you. Don’t want him. You can’t have him.
What, you don’t like my secondhand combat boots with broken laces and scuffed toes? Do they offend you?
“I’m wondering if you do dress like this to, indeed, please someone else.”
“Oh, Mr. Mori, have you forgotten?” I replied, faking innocence. “You always go to confession at the end of the month.”
Yeah. Never forget I know all about you.
“Women are typically better kissers in my experience, anyway,” she continued, giving me a look up and down that suddenly made me hyperaware. “I mean, men have no idea what to do with their tongues.” She laughed. “I charge them extra for the kissing.”
“You took the threesome I wanted with Michael and Rika, and now her?” she retorted. “I’m beginning to think you’re my competition, Kai.”
“Keep looking at me like that,” Kai spoke up, “and we’re going to have problems.”
He acted like he did six years ago. Like I was just a girl. But not average, either. I was special. Wanted. Desired.
He was in complete control of me. He knew it, and he’d just proved it. I needed to stop responding to him. Whether it was lust or anger or fear, I needed to shut down. I needed to bore him. If I didn’t, we’d both let loose. And then . . . it would be war.
“I didn’t know. I . . . I thought . . .” His fingers fell down the side of my face and then down my arm. “What the fuck is happening?”
“I wasn’t supposed to change,” I said quietly. “I wasn’t supposed to grow up.”
She disappeared three years ago when Damon had finally suffered enough. He had hurt himself, made me hurt him, and retreated into the horror show of his own head until one night she came for him one too many times.
“If you love her, she can hurt you,” Natalya told him. “If you hurt her instead, she’ll never escape you. You’ll always own her. She’s yours. You don’t ask, and you don’t care. Take what’s yours. Take her.” Her voice dropped so low I could barely hear. “Take her.”
Stay with me. I held his eyes. I know who you are. You protect me, you take me shopping on my birthday and let me pick out whatever I want, and you wake me up with my favorite fucking milkshakes when you come home in the middle of the night. I know who you are.
“She has no control over you.” I hugged him close, whispering into his damp neck. “We’re free. It’s just us.” “It’s still inside me,” he choked out. “It hurts.” I squeezed my eyes shut, crying harder. “Hold on to me. Just hold on to me.”
People will think what they want to think, not because they believe they are right, but because it’s in their nature to maintain that they are. By defending yourself, you feed the appetite for drama. By not, you’ve ended the conversation. You. Not them.
“I can take anything you got!” “I’m sure! In both ends, I hear!”
Whatever. Yeah, I don’t like people, but it’s a conscious choice, not a hang-up. I could deal with them. If I wanted to. Which I didn’t.
“You make me feel driven. You make me hungry and on fire and wanting to slow down time instead of wanting to rush through it. It’s you I look for when I walk in the doors in the morning. Not her. You.”
“This is called reverse cowgirl, little one,” I growled in her ear. “Hang on.”
“I love you guys,” Michael said, “but are you fucking dense? You’re my friends. She is everything. Maybe someday you’ll know what the fuck I’m talking about.”
What is this thing you speak of? Fun? Never heard of it.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I folded my arms over my chest. “I don’t flaunt myself for the enjoyment of men.”
“Well, good. Happy to hear it, because I’m the only man whose attention you should be trying to get, and baby, you got it years ago while wearing another man’s clothes.” He kissed my temple, his hot breath sending chills down my spine. “So, you can imagine how fucking beautiful you are to me right now wearing mine.”
“Nothing. We fight, and we move on. We’re not girls.”
“Like I said, you can do whatever you want.” Yeah. I needed to get the hang of that.
“I’m not a threat to you, okay? I love Kai, but I’m not a threat to you.”
means, if Kai got to have me, so does she.” And then she looked at Michael. “What? Fair’s fair, right?”
It was still no excuse. Plenty of people had it rough and behaved just fine. In theory. But when you’re in the thick of abuse and still live with the torment in your head every day, it’s a little different. No one handles it. They just fake it better. How else do you cope with the terrible shit you’ve been through?
“Damon eats pain,” I told her. “He will find some way to take it and twist it and fit it down his throat, so he can swallow it. He’s made of it. You all can endure it until you overcome it, but Damon . . . he wants to be in hell.” It’s where he shines.
