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“I stayed,” I repeated. “I know I sound like a fool, but he had been so sad. What kind of person would I be if I abandoned him while?—”
“Theory. Stop. I’m not judging you, baby. Stop judging and condemning yourself,” Targen said softly.
His fingers started a soothing stroke against my scalp. For a minute, I just enjoyed it. But I knew I had to finish this.
“All he could talk about was how happy he knew being a wife and mother would make me. And he was right. I wanted that, but in the future… and not with him. I’d been on the pill, but I got an IUD, to be even safer. I didn’t tell him. But I know I did the right thing because a week later, I realized he threw away my pills. That was it for me. The next morning, I started packing my shit for real. He watched for a minute, then left. He came back right before lunchtime, asking if he could feed me one last time while we talked. He actually used the words, ‘Debrief me, Theory. Tell me where I went wrong.’ I just wanted to leave, but he insisted, then he begged, then he cried.”
I shook my head, thinking about how easily I’d given in. If there was one thing Chauncey ruined, it was any innocence I had.
“Punk ass nigga, tryna manipulate you with tears,” Targen muttered.
“Stupid ass me, falling for it. I got in the truck. He drove for a while, farther than I expected. I asked him to take me back. He wouldn't. We made it out to the suburbs. His family had a home in the Shenadoah area down there because his father co-owned an oil business. I remember thinking how beautiful the houses were. I just stared at them as we passed. It was like some part of me knew I needed to focus on something pretty because a lot of ugly was about to happen.
He pulled into the garage, turned the car off, and told me to get out. I wouldn’t, so he left me for hours. I thought I was just as stubborn as he was. I didn’t move until he made me. He opened the door, pulled me out, and carried me into that house. He asked meagainto marry him, to make a family with him. I told himagainthat I just couldn't. He smiled down at me, pushed the ring on my finger, and said, ‘You will.’”
I brought my hands in front of me, my right one absently rubbing my left ring finger at the memory of how he jammed the solitaire on as I tried to pull away. I didn't realize how furiously I was rubbing until Targen grabbed my hands and kissed each one.
“He started pulling me down the hallway, and I fought him. I didn’t expect… what happened. But I knew his using force was bad. He didn’t have to. He was a former football player, six-five, two hundred eighty pounds. So, I knew he wanted me to feel scared on top of powerless. He… he pulled me into his bedroom. I was screaming and punching and kicking. And he just laughed. Like, I was fighting for my life, and it was hilarious to him. He told me to stop. I wouldn't. He closed the door and let me go enough to backhand me.”
Wordlessly, I touched my jaw. The memory of the hot burst of pain still hurt.
“He grabbed me before I could fall. Asked me had I learned my lesson. I kept fighting. I got a punch to the head for it. It wasn't even as hard as he could hit, but it dazed me. I think I passed out for a few seconds because the next thing I remember was being on his bed and my dress was gone. And then everything was gone. I never realized how much difference being aroused could make. I didn't want him… w-wasn’t ready. So, when he…”
I stopped, dropping my head and feeling hot tears splash against my arms. Targen pulled me impossibly closer.
“Theory—”
“I thought he was tearing me in half. I did pass out then. I was lucky that time.” Pressing a hand against my mouth, I tried to physically hold back a sob. “I was awake the rest of the night while he—” Shaking, I cut my sentence off abruptly. “Anyway, he fell asleep at some point while the sun was coming up. I waited and then tried to slip out of bed. I sat up and he grabbed my hair and pulled me back. He apologized before he slapped me again. Before he raped me again.”
I managed to say it without much feeling in my voice even though I felt like a mass of raw pain inside.
“Jesus Christ,milaya. You think I'ma allow his bitch ass to live? There's not one fucking scenario where that happens. You can be as mad as you want, but let's be clear about that.”
Targen’s voice was tight and furious. I shook my head, refusing to accept what he said. I just had to finish telling him, make him understand.
“He told me afterward that if I'd stop crying, he'd let me shower and give me food. I agreed, thinking he was having a change of heart. When I finished breakfast, he dragged me back to that room… I just… I shut down in a way. I know I woke up there two more mornings. On the last morning, he talked to me more and tried to see if I was on board with his plan. I just shook my head. H-he started to assault me again. On top of everything I’d been through, some one-in-a-million shit happened. My doctor told me it was rare, but somehow, Chauncey felt the strings from my IUD. Once he realized what I had done, he got so mad. He started to beat me. It was a relief, like, I honestly hoped he was going to kill me,” I admitted, my voice thick with unshed tears. “I wanted to die by then.”
“Theory…milaya…no. Your life is too valuable. Damn, baby, don’t talk like that.” Targen whispered.
“My lack of response pissed him off. He said if I wouldn’t have his baby, I wouldn't have another man’s. I remember he reached toward the nightstand, and then, there was so much blood and pain. He wanted to destroy my womb, but he wasn't good with anatomy.” Another dark laugh escaped me. “My abdomen, my thigh, the top of my p?—”
“Jesus, baby,” he interrupted hoarsely, his hand massaging my scars.
“His… his father came in and found us after my family had started looking for me. It's the only reason he didn't kill me.”
I sighed and closed my eyes, glad to have most of it out. For a while, Targen just held me. At some point, he moved us to my bed. I lay in his arms, facing him as he gently ran his thumb across my cheek. Finally, he spoke.
“Killing him in prison will have to be fast, unless I can arrange to have that pussy ass nigga taken out one night and returned. I want to go slow. I want him to suffer.”
My eyes flew open, and I swallowed.“He-he’s not in prison,” I whispered.
Targen’s thumb dragged to a slow halt against my cheek. I watched as his expression changed to a scowl. He rose on one elbow to look down at me.
“Fuck you mean, that nigga not in prison?”
“He was arrested, but his family had money. His father and his uncles had successful businesses, enough to pay his doctors to exaggerate the effects of the Major Depressive Order that Chauncey had. That was the first step in their plan. My family is not exactly poor and is well known in Louisiana, too, so they pushed initially. They did it quietly, wanting to protect my location and make it hard for people to figure out who the alias in the paperwork was for. As a sexual assault victim, my name was protected. But Chauncey’s mother is a lawyer. She and her team made sure his name wasn’t mentioned much, either. I know now her Mississippi family helped with that. Then, she created a case in which a combination of antidepressants and sleeping pills caused a reaction that lowered Chauncey’s inhibitions and prevented him from making sound decisions. He had a break with reality, they said. I had been with him five years, watched depression lay him low sometimes. His medication was always the same. And he was never violent until after I got my Master's and told him I wasn’t happy in our situation. Then he started being ridiculously possessive and jealous. Chauncey also told his mother… things after the attack.”
“What things?”