Page 38 of Monster
Essa
Three months ago
“You all right?”Dominik asks.
“What?” I ask, coming back to the now. I was off in space—again. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Had an odd dream last night is all.” I shrug as I wrap the blanket around me tighter. We’re watching a movie in the rec room, but it’s only us in here right now. He’s sitting next to me on the couch with his hand resting on my knee. His small touches have become such a comfort, but right now it doesn’t seem to be doing anything.
I dreamt of Vincent last night and it felt too fucking real.
I’m still shaken up about it, but I’mtryingnot to think about it. A helluva lot of good that’s doing me.
The pain of missing him is too fucking much sometimes. Of what I did. Of what we lost. Because no matter what I did,westill lost our baby. The baby was as much his as it was mine and I can’t help thinking about him as a father. I’m not sure how excited he would’ve been to be a father, but I know he would’ve been a great one. He’s fierce and though I know a very little about his past, I know his mother hurt him, along with many others. But I think things like that—our shitty childhoods—can either make or break people.
My childhood fucking destroyed me, but Vincent? Not even fucking close. He came out on the other end, stronger and more resilient than ever. I fucking envy that. And I fucking miss him.
Dom’s cold hand squeezing my leg brings me back to the now. When I turn my head to glance at him in question, I see his brows are furrowed, which I can actually see because, today, his thick, curly hair is pushed underneath his backwards white baseball cap.
“You’re pretty spacey today, baby girl. Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks me.
“Just got a lot on my mind.” I shrug and glance away, unable to lie while looking him in the eyes.
“Your sister? Or your baby?” he trails off, like he doesn’t want to utter the words out loud.
“I—” I stop, not sure what to say. What the fuck can I even say at this point? It’s the same shit, just a different day. And today happens to be a fucking terrible one.
“Or are you thinking about Vin?” he asks, his voice trailing off. I swing my gaze over to him, startled.
“Wha—”
“I know about Vin. Well, I know very little actually. But I know he was someone you loved…” My eyes must be as wide as saucers and the shock evident all over my face because when he locks his eyes back on mine, he gives me a small smile, but moves his hand from my leg and actually scoots away from me, across the couch. Probably giving me space—or himself.
“You talk in your sleep, baby girl. About Holley, your baby. And him.” he states, his tone bitter.
“Dom… I don’t know what you want me to say…”
“You don’tneedto say anything, but I’d like you to tell me about him. And about those scars all over your beautiful body. I know not all of those are self-inflicted, baby.” He reaches over and grabs my right arm, pushing my—well, his—hoodie sleeve up to reveal “CREEP”. I yank my arm away and push the sleeve back down, hiding it.
Shame washes over me and I feel my cheeks heating. I don’t want to feel ashamed but the look in his eyeshurts.
He doesn’t seem fazed by my actions. Instead, he scoots closer again and runs his finger along the scar gracing my throat. I shudder when he traces it, but I don’t move away. Once he reaches the base of my throat, he lets his finger rest there while peering into my eyes. His are watery—as are mine.
“He hurt you,” he states, not asking.
“Dom, it’s not what you think…” I try to reason with him, but… it is what he thinks. It’sexactlywhat he fucking thinks.
“Don’t lie to me, Essa. I’ve been nothing but honest with you from the beginning. I’ve let you keep your secrets because I know you need to, but please. Don’t fucking lie to my face.”
My tears fall hot and fast down my cheeks, splashing onto his hand below, but neither one of us moves. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. His stare is so fucking intense and demanding, I’m getting a headache.
He’s going to judge me. He’s going to see how fucked up I am, and he’s going to leave.
He doesn’t want to be around a broken girl like me.
With my eyes still closed, I give him some small truths. “Vincent—that’s his name. Vincent was cruel, but he took me from my home about six months ago. He took me because my parents gave me to him to pay for their drug debt.” I shudder thinking about Ben, but then a wave of relief washes over me when I remember the motherfucker is dead. At least I don’t have to worry about him anymore.
“Ben, my ‘father’,” I use air quotes, “hurt me my entire life and for as cruel as Vincent was, he wasnothingcompared to Ben. Vincent actually saved me. And as for the scars…” I trail off, glancing down at my sleeve covered arm.
“They’re from me. From my own hand,andbecause I wanted them. Vincent did a lot of them, yes, but I wanted it too. I know you don’t understand. No one would, but that’s the truth.” My tears have turned to sobs, and I feel Dom’s arms wrap around me and he pulls me into his chest. He runs his hand across my back as he plays with my hair with the other.
“It’s okay, baby girl. I’ve got you.” Those three fucking words make me feel so much better every time he says them. “I don’t have to understand. What matters is you do and what you do with that is your choice. I won’t say any more about it. I’m sorry I pushed you,” he sighs, his shoulders shaking.
“Don’t be sorry,” I mumble into his chest, while wrapping my arms around him. We both sit on the couch, holding each other as tight as we can, not letting go.
As long as I’ve got him, I think I can get through this.
I think with him, I can be satisfied.
As satisfied as I can be…
