Page 58 of The Blackmail of Denise Randall

“Denise, please. I’m thinking all the worst things and I just need to know—”

“He didn’t rape me. He might have. Probably. But the very guys I’d judged went and got help. He forced a kiss on me and grabbed my breast.” Then I whisper, “I got lucky.”

“When I find him…” Keaton bites his fist. “You have to stay away from that crowd. He’s your drug dealer, isn’t he?”

“I don’t go to him anymore! Obviously!”

“Don’t go to anyone! Not only could you die, but you might get raped! God, who knows what these people could do to you.”

“I didn’t think they were those kind of drug dealers!”

“Are you fucking serious right now? You think there’s good drug dealers?” Keaton removes his arms from around me and stands up. I feel so cold and lonely without his protective warmth. His eyes are wide as he cuts a hand through the air. “Because they drive fancy vehicles and wear expensive clothing? Because they look like you!”

I flinch at his words. But he doesn’t stop, his voice turns hard as he waves his arms, speaking with his hands.“Drugs don’t discriminate. Evil doesn’t only come in a sinister package. It can be presented in all forms. You can’t judge people by their appearance, you have to judge them by their actions. A person giving you drugs—no matter what their position is in society—is still dangerous. They’re feeding your addiction. They’re making you dependent on them. They have power over you. No matter how the package is wrapped, the content is the same. It’s still the necessary tool to control your life. Don’t accept any more packages.”

“I can’t.” I cry. “You don’t get it.”

“I saw my father’s dead body. I think I fucking get it a little bit better than you,” Keaton spits. “You’re living in this lie. This lie that they’ve fed you. That you need the drugs. It’s a lie. You don’t need anyone or anything that’s trying to control you. Only you can change this by taking back control of your life. Or don’t, and lose it. Because that’s exactly where this is heading.”

Keaton paces in front of me. His powerful body coiled tightly and rippling with energy. “My dad was in a nice package too. That’s why nobody saw the demons. You think only low-lifes get addicted? You think only uneducated, bad people do it? Everyone gets desperate.” He stops and stares me directly in the eye. “Like you. You’re desperate and crying out for help, so here’s a magic antidote. But that antidote doesn’t fix or cure anything. In fact, it does the opposite.” He begins pacing again. “I watched as my father went from the strong and handsome man that I looked up to a shell of a man because of a few tiny pills. His eyes used to be so bright and he would smile, but then the lights started dimming. My ol’ man started getting agitated easily, depressed, and paranoid. I watched my father die over the years until the last couple of months of his life, he wasn’t even in there. He died long before his body ever did.” We’re quiet for a moment. He turns his glistening eyes to me. “That car out there. It’s the last piece of my dad that I have left. It’s the only thing he didn’t waste away for drugs. He signed the title over to me before he died. I think he knew he was getting out of control and—well, I think he knew I loved it and wanted to make sure I got it before he became too desperate.”

“I thought you said your dad got clean when you came back from LA?”

“My mom was sick, so he quit. He focused on her and tried to do better, make everything right. When she died of breast cancer, that’s when dad went back, but worse. He got injured working at the factory and got hooked back on pain pills. I guess it numbed his agony from losing Mom too. He died my freshman year in college. I couldn’t handle it. I dropped out. Trent got me a job with Randall Construction until I could figure out what I wanted to do.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. But learn from the story. You’ll end up on the same path. They all do. No matter how much power or money you have, the drugs will always win.”

The pain in Keaton’s voice is so sharp, it cuts straight through to my heart. I stand up and wrap my arms around him. His heart is beating so hard and I just want to take his pain away. I gently cup his strong jaw and bring his lips to mine. My body melts under his firm yet gentle lips. One of his hands begins to caress my body and I sigh against his lips. I feel his arousal against me and I raise up to meet him. He runs his hand up my neck and to the back of my head. He pulls me forward and his other hand begins to slowly ease under the shirt I’m wearing. I allow him to pull the shirt over my head. It’s not until he pulls away and openly looks at my body that I feel self-conscious. Completely uncomfortable with him viewing my untoned stomach, I pull him back to me. I’m not out of shape, but I’m not exactly in shape. If anything, I’m underweight and sickly looking. He eagerly returns to my lips.

He pulls back again and says, “You never answered me about birth control?”

All warm feelings are gone.

“Denise?”

“I’m not on birth control.”

“That’s kind of risky.”

“Not when there hasn’t been any risk.”

He stares at me in complete and utter shock, as though I just told him I was an alien. “No risk? So, you’re not sexually active…lately?”

“Correct. Or ever have been.”

“You’re a… you’re, uh, you’ve never…” I shake my head, and he holds both hands up. “But you…You’ve never?”

“Never.”

“Came close?”

“Never even came with anyone…except you.”

“I’m sorry what?” He stares at me in confusion and then it dawns on him. “You’ve never had an orgasm except that time on the balcony?”

“And earlier today. Another birthday present from you. Thanks.”

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