"Don't tell anyone, please," I beg him. "I shouldn't have told you." I bury my face in the pillow.
"Hey, it's alright," he murmurs. "He hurt you, didn't he?"
"He tried," she replies. "He used to hit my mom. Sometimes when it was really bad, he'd take out one of his guns and hold it to her head. And then when I turned fourteen, he started to look at me funny. We all lived together in a trailer, so there was no way to avoid him. He'd pretend to accidentally walk in on me when I was changing, or need to pass by me to get something and put his hands on my ass…"
"Did you tell your mom?"
I nod. "She thought I was being dramatic. And it didn't help that the two of them were on meth most of the time. That's when I started to learn how to fight. There was this place I'd go down the street from school. When they were out of the trailer, I'd take out Jimmy's guns and learn how to use them in the woods around where we lived. Then I'd take out the bullets and hide them so he couldn't use it on my mom."
"Tough kid," he comments, pushing a piece of hair out of my face.
"It was okay like that for a while," I tell him. "But he just kept coming after me. One night he came home when I was there trying to do homework, and my mom was out, and he kissed me. I froze up, and he tried to get his hands under my shirt."
"Is that when you did it?"
"No, that's when I started sleeping outside. I made myself a little campsite out there. The kids at school started to tease me because I'd smell. Every now and then the janitor would forget to close a window in the gym, so sometimes I'd sneak into the locker rooms to shower and sleep in one of the classrooms."
"I think I would have gone crazy," Ford says.
"I did, a little. Maybe more than a little. I'd sneak back into the trailer every couple of days when I knew my mom and Jimmy would be out, but one night, Jimmy was there. He was passed out in the bed. His knuckles were bloody, and there was blood on my mom's towel, so I could tell he'd been hitting her. I just stared at him as he lay there in bed, stinking of vodka, drool pouring out of his mouth, and I thought how much better it would be if he didn't exist. My mom and I could just go back to normal.
"I didn't really think about it any further than that. It all felt really simple. I turned the gas on the stove on, then found some nasty leftovers in the fridge with tin foil covering them, and stuck that in the microwave. I made sure all the windows were closed, then set the microwave for five minutes, and left him there. I sat in the woods to wait, and to make sure my mom didn't come home before it happened.
"There was a little light, the flame from when the tin foil sparked in the microwave I think, but it only lasted a second. Then there was a big explosion, and it was done." I stare up at the ceiling for a moment, feeling exhausted.
"Did they suspect you?"
"No, all the neighbors told the cops Jimmy was an idiot and probably set fire to the trailer smoking meth or something."
"It was self-defense," Ford says.
"No, it wasn't. I had taken myself out of danger. I killed him in cold blood."
"I don't blame you. You were a kid, and he'd made your life unlivable."
"I don't get to make choices about who lives or dies. That's not up to me, or anybody else. I've spent my life since then trying to be good, trying to make up for what I did."
"If I'd known you then, I probably would've killed him, too."
I pause, looking into the depths of his eyes. "You've killed before, haven't you?"
He nods, slowly. "I have."
"You remember all of them?"
"I do. And I still wonder about my decision in each case. But I was a trained soldier. You were a kid, and the bastard had been beating your mom and coming after you."
Another tear slips down my cheek. "It didn't even matter. I mean, I thought she'd go back to normal. Jimmy was the one who had got her on drugs, so I thought without him…but by then she was already hooked. She never really felt like my mom after that."
"Did she know?"
"I don't think so. Maybe. I was so angry at her for grieving for him, this guy who'd beaten her and tried to fuck her daughter. We don't talk anymore." I use the top of the sheet to wipe my face. "It's okay if you want me to leave."
"That's the only crazy thing you've said tonight. You think I don't have my share of darkness in me?"
"But I—"
"No one can say what a person is capable of if they're pushed far enough. And you were pushed pretty fucking far."
"So you don't hate me?"
"No, I don't hate you," Ford whispers, and stretches his arm around my shoulders, then pulls me against him. I bury my face against his chest, feeling like a weight has been lifted from me. "You never told anyone else?" I shake my head no. "Why me?"
"I guess I just thought you'd understand," I murmur, raising my head to look at him. He looks back at me, and for the first time in my life, I feel truly seen. The good parts of me, and the bad.
He bends his head down, and gently kisses me. I open my mouth to his. He moves tentatively, unsure if I want him in this moment, but I do. I slip my tongue into his mouth to let him know. I feel him surge against me, but he still moves slowly.
His hands slide against my bare legs, rubbing my skin, wanting to make sure I'm ready. My legs fall open and my head relaxes against my pillow. Ford leans up on one elbow, still kissing me, and begins to drag his fingers up my inner thighs.
As his fingers slide against my wetness, he leans his head back to watch my face. I close my eyes and concentrate on the feeling of his touch on my clit. He circles me slowly, carefully, then begins to speed up, flicking me back and forth. My back begins to arch off the bed and my breathing becomes uneven.
I feel him pull his hand away, and open my eyes. He's taking his boxers off, so I slip the big t-shirt I'm wearing up and off my head. When he turns back around, he takes in my bare breasts as I settle back onto the bed. He bends his head down and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth. I moan, and run my hands through his long, unruly hair. His hand moves back to my slit, and he presses a finger inside of me and circles it around and around against my g-spot.
I press my knees to the mattress. "Oh, Ford," I groan.
He raises his head and moves over and onto his knees, sliding his legs between mine. I look down at his hard, erect cock, and watch as he lines it up with my opening. He slowly presses his hips in, and his member disappears inside me. My eyes flutter as I feel him fill me up.
I reopen them to take in his long muscular torso, and the scars and tattoos that mark his hard-lived life. I look up to his eyes, and catch the dangerous glint that I always see in them. But he doesn't scare me anymore. He leans down, resting himself on his elbows on either side of my shoulders, but without letting go of eye contact. I wrap my legs around his back, and he begins to thrust in and out of me.
I'm ready to come, but I want to wait for him. I bite my lip, trying to hold back.
"Go on, I want to see it," Ford whispers in my ear. It doesn't take anything more than that; my body ripples with an orgasm, pleasure filling up every inch of me. As I begin to retreat from the high, I feel him still hard and still inside me. "You are so fucking sexy," he whispers. "You want more?"
"Yes, yes," I breathe. He slowly pulls out and drives in again, taking his time to build up his pace again. I grip his shoulders as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm me. He moves one of his hands to my ass and tilts it upward. I cry out as he hits an entirely new set of nerves. He begins to sweat, and I greedily reach my mouth for his, opening my lips wide to accept his tongue.
I feel completely enveloped my him, completely taken, as his body thrusts in and out of the most intimate parts of me. A moan builds in the back of my throat and I have to tear my lips from his as it bursts from my mouth as a scream of pleasure. Ford grunts, and his eyes bore into me. I hold his gaze as we come against each other, our bodies rocking together in a mutual orgasm.