Pretty and Reckless by Charity Ferrell

my vanity and testing out different lip-glosses Bella had gotten for me. He came in with a man I’d never seen before. I’ll never forget the man’s predatory eyes staring at me and sizing me up. They were icy, but melted when my dad told me to stand up, and he took me in. I was wearing a tank top and pajama pants with cherries printed on them. The man licked his lips and asked my dad if he was going to be the one to pop the cherry between my legs.”
    Weston drew in a sharp breath, his lips screwing into a grimace while he looked at me infuriated. He was fighting back his anger for my sake. He wanted to hear everything before releasing it.
    “I hadn’t understood his words, but that didn’t stop me from being terrified. My dad told him yes, it was all his as long as he stuck with the deal. The man scanned me over again and shook my dad’s hand when he told him he had forty-five minutes.” A sob rolled over my tongue and Weston’s hand soothed over my back. “I watched the man who was supposed to protect me leave me alone with this terrible person. I didn’t even realize what was happening until he took his pants off and demanded I do the same. He threw me on my bed, and his heavy body crawled over the top of me. I did everything he told me to do because I was too scared to say no.”
    I wished I’d fought back. I’d replayed that day in my head thousands of times thinking maybe if I would’ve told him no or screamed out for help, it wouldn’t have happened. But I didn’t.   I’d stayed quiet and followed his orders.
    His warm body brushed against mine when he grabbed a tissue and started wiping my face. “Do you want to stop?” He asked, collecting my tears.
    I shook my head. There was no turning back now. “It was painful. So fucking painful. I cried the entire time. He’d touched me for a few minutes, telling me he wanted to get me wet, before flipping me on my stomach and dragging my legs up. I didn’t look back at him once. I cried out as pain ricocheted through my body while this heavy man slammed in and out of me. He grunted like a dying animal while he raped me, and after what seemed like an eternity, he finally collapsed over me.
    Weston’s hand went to my hair and he swept it away from my face. “You’re doing great, babe,” he told me.
    I choked out another sob. “He told me I was now a woman and then he left the room. I stayed on my bed, naked and curled into a ball, and waited for my dad to come save me. But he never came. He left me alone. So I sat there and cried. I cried until I felt like I had nothing left inside of me. Later that night, I snuck into my dad’s office, grabbed a handful of matches and set my bed on fire.” I snorted. “That actually became a ritual of ours. He’d sell me off, and then know he’d have to buy me a new bed after I set mine to flames.”
    I lost the warmth of Weston’s hand when he pushed up from the couch, grabbed a book and threw it across the room in a fit of rage.
    “And …” I began to elaborate, not sure what else to do.
    He paced in front of me. “That’s enough for today,” he said, cutting my words off quickly.
    “But I thought you wanted …”
    He inhaled a sharp breath. “That’s enough for today. I can’t fucking believe this!” He threw another book, that one smashing against the wall. “How long did this go on?” He asked, stopping in front of me.
    “Until I was seventeen.” It was embarrassing that I’d allowed for it to go on that long, but I didn’t know how to stop it. So I let it continue to happen, feeling like I had no other options, or anyone to turn to. I let the guys keep coming.
    His dark irises narrowed at me. “Did it happen after we met?”  
    I nodded. “Just once, but it wasn’t exactly rape. I allowed it to happen because my father insisted I show a man around the city and entertain him for the night.”
    His chair fell to the side when he kicked it. “Mother fucker!”   I looked at him in