Page 84 of Manacled Hearts

There is a brief pause, and my breath is caught in my chest waiting for the intimate confession I should definitely not be listening in on. But I can’t help myself, so fuck it. I’m already an asshole.

“After what they did to me, what I feel seems wrong. Inappropriate. Sick. Have you ever felt like you want your partner to just… take? Be at their mercy, sort of? I don’t even know how to explain this. Almost like the only consent you give is how turned on you are, but he’s already there when he discovers this.”

“Yes, Evie, I have. There’s nothing wrong about that. About giving up control with a person you want, a person you’re attracted and connected to.”

“But I was raped, Morri. I was forced and they…” she trails off and a burning lump rises up of my throat. “Someone in my situation should not have these kinds of fantasies. It feels sick. What is wrong with me?”

Christ, I want to gather her up in my arms and hold her there. She’s not sick. She’s so far from that. But it drives me mad thinking that she might end up exploring that kink with someone else. Someone who could take advantage of her and not treat her right.

“Many of us who once had the choice stripped away, find solace in the loss of control with a person we trust. A person we want. It’s like a different type of therapy. I don’t know if it’s because the decision to lose control over our body is ours, or maybe it just feels fucking good. Because, let me tell you, it feels so damn good. Fortunately, as you said, your memories of your attack are sparse, and maybe your need for control over it all is even deeper. However, you shouldn’t let your fantasies revolve around what happened to you. Let them be. Sometimes a need is just that—a need.”

“I never thought of it in this way. Yes, I feel wrong for having these cravings, but they aren’t my only ones, nor are they new. I’m questioning them now, their morality, my… mental health, only because of what happened to me.”

I am stunned at this conversation. I couldn’t move even if someone caught me listening. This insight makes me feel all kinds of wrong. It’s utterly intimate and Evelyn would lose her shit knowing that I stole her secret. The worst part of this is that this fantasy of hers is being stored in my mind, like I’m building a list of what would make sweet Evelyn whimper. Should I also add this on the list of all that is wrong about me? Like craving a woman who’s barely eighteen?

Yes, I should add it.

“So, it’s something you wanted before all of this happened?” Morrigan asks.

There is no answer, but her next words make me think Evelyn probably agreed in a wordless way.

“Then you think it’s bad that it hasn’t gone away because of the attack.”

“It would be the normal expectation, right? And it’s not just that, but before it all happened, those types of cravings already felt disturbing. I never had sex before, but all my wet dreams were forceful, raw. I can’t believe I just said that.” Evelyn’s tone raises a few octaves.

I can’t either! Jesus, why did she have to say the words wet dream and raw in the same sentence? I know what I’m dreaming of tonight.

“It’s not necessarily the expectation, no. It goes back to the need for control. Fantasizing, living that fantasy in a safe environment gives you your control back. And trust me, Evie, never having sex has nothing to do with what you crave. There are plenty of forty-year-old virgins out there who fantasize about much kinkier things than some dubious consent.” Morrigan explains.

“I guess you’re right. Thanks Morri, this really helped.”

“Do you have someone in mind you would want these fantasies to come to life with?” Morrigan asks her, and I stiffen, eagerly waiting for Evelyn’s response.

“I thought I did, but I think I’m going to be seeking someone else.”

Oh, hell no! She wants to seek someone else?! Over my dead fucking body! And even then, I’ll take the motherfucker down with me.

“Maybe we should do something about it then.” Morrigan giggles and I’m ready to burst through that damn window and give her a piece of my mind.

“Shush, Maya’s coming,” Evelyn alerts her friend, and I take it as my cue to detach myself from this wall.

Through my veins my pulse is rushing so hard, I think my heart’s gonna burst out of my fucking chest. It takes more than a few minutes in the bathroom to compose myself finally before coming back into the living area. Ronan gives me a bit of a look when I return, probably wondering why it took me so long to go to the toilet, but I ignore it.

“Say goodbye, Maya.” Evelyn’s soft, melodic tone, mixed with that sweet brown sugar scent weaves around me just as Aaro darts past and sticks himself against his mom.

“Goodbye…” Maya’s little voice sounds shier than usual.

“It was very nice to meet you all. I hope we’ll see each other soon,” Evelyn says.

“We certainly will. Plus, it was such a nice surprise to have someone in his age range here, it couldn’t have worked any better if I planned it.”

“It was getting boring with all these adults around.” Maya gathers more courage and I stifle a laugh.

“Shush. You love us.” Evelyn pats her sister on the top of the head, shaking hers. “We’ll see you later then.” She moves, now only a few steps away from the front door.

“Wait, who’s taking you?” I ask hastily.

She stops but doesn’t turn. Not before she takes a few agonizingly slow, deep breaths. The silence is so awkward, Annika took a few quiet steps backwards to remove herself from this. Before I can say something, Evelyn’s eyes land on me over her shoulder, and I try to swallow through the sudden dryness in my throat, but it doesn’t work. A lump forms, and I swear I can hear her screaming in her mind at me, telling me to mind my own fucking business. Maybe I’m paranoid, maybe I’m just creating fake scenarios in my head, but the annoyance is painted in her furrowed eyebrows.

---