Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“I was naked,” I told him, my voice quiet. “He had already gotten my clothes off of me.” I rubbed at my chest where one of the worst bite marks was located. “And he was biting me—biting me so hard that I was actually bleeding. And it only seemed to turn him on more.”
My hands were shaking. I twisted them together, trying my best to keep them still. It still felt as if I could feel Randall fucking biting me.
“It hurt so badly. I remember screaming at him and trying to hit him—anything to get him to stop, but he just pinned my wrists down and continued biting me, saying he would make sure I forever remembered our night together.” I shook my head. “God, he must have been biting me for hours. It felt like forever. And then, he started hitting me. I faded in and out of consciousness a lot. My head was hurting a lot—pounding.”
I wanted to throw up. My skin was crawling. “The last time I came to, he was—he was pushing inside of me.” I began to bounce my knee, getting antsy. Tears poured down my face. “I begged to succumb to that darkness again, but I was awake. God, he was enjoying himself so much. I was bleeding. My entire body was hurting, and Randall was violating me in the worst fucking way possible.”
“What happened when he was finished?” Dr. Gresham quietly asked me.
“He just left,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “He didn’t touch me again. He was done. He got what he wanted.”
Dr. Gresham took a seat beside me on the couch. “You’re very, very strong for getting through that, for surviving that. It takes real strength to come out on the other side like you have, Ally.”
I didn’t feel too strong.
“I want you to do something for me,” Dr. Gresham requested.
I drew in a slow, deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “What’s that?” I asked him.
“I want you to write about that evening every single day until you can finally write about it without crying and throwing up. I want you to write about it until you can willingly go to Christian and Caiden again and take control of what you want with them. Right now, they’re leading you until you find yourself again. But that’s okay.”
Write about it. Just the thought of writing about it over and over made me want to throw up again.
“Dr. Gresham?” I asked after we sat in silence for a few moments.
“Yes, Ally?”
“Is it normal for me to have sex so soon after being raped?” I quietly asked him.
“The most important thing to remember about traumatic experiences is that everyone recovers from them differently. Some people draw into themselves and can’t stand to be touched after being raped. Some people find that they feel in control again when they decide to have sex. I’ve had patients who go years without doing anything sexual, Ally, and I have patients who literally have sex with as many people as they can. Everyone has different responses to trauma.”
“So, I’m not fucked up for still having sex?”
Dr. Gresham shook his head. “Not at all, Ally. If it makes you feel in control and gives you some of your own power back, there’s nothing wrong with it,” he assured me.
My phone rang in my pocket as I was striding toward my car. After eating some blueberry muffins made by Mrs. Evelyn and calming down, Dr. Gresham finally released me from our session with strict instructions to call him if I needed an extra session, but we would keep to our schedule as planned otherwise and do our virtual session on Wednesday.
I pulled my phone out, frowning at my dad’s number on the screen. I had deleted his number from my phone, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t remember his number. It had been the same for most of my life.
Swallowing thickly, I made a dumb decision.
I answered the call.
“Hello?” I asked, hating that my voice broke on the simple word.
“Ally, my little girl, I’ve missed you,” my dad said softly into the line. I quickly unlocked my car and dropped into the driver’s seat, my heart thudding hard in my chest at the sound of his voice.
How long had I wished for him to call me—for him to want to repair our relationship?
“Dad?” I croaked, my eyes burning with unshed tears.
“Oh, honey,” he said, his own voice thick with emotion. My tears fell down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I know that doesn’t mean shit. I abandoned you, and I’m so damn sorry. I’ll never be able to make up for that.”
“I missed you,” I cried as I closed my eyes, my shoulders shaking.
“I missed you, too, darling,” he rasped, his voice cracking. “I want to see you—dinner or something. Whatever you would be comfortable with. Would that be okay? I want to fix things between us.”