Page 55 of Titan

I closed my eyes, trying not to allow the images to flood my mind. The way they laughed as they raped me repeatedly like it was a fucking joke. How they told me it was all I was good for. I would never be anything but a whore. A piece of meat for them to fuck whichever way they pleased. They dehumanised me to the point I no longer knew myself. Until I was a shell.

“Then one day I was being taken to visit a client. They had me in the back of a van with a blindfold on. They never let us see where we were going. I don’t even know to this day where I was held, but that’s not the point. I thought it was like any other day, except during the drive there was a loud bang outside. The van screeched to a halt. Then there was shouting and the sounds of fighting. I could have sworn a gun went off. The next thing I knew, my blindfold was pulled off and there was a woman. She told me I was safe.”

I opened my eyes and stared at Gil. There was pain in his eyes like he was horrified by the story I was telling him. It was horrifying, but there was hope too because I’d got out of there. I’d been set free.

“To this day, I still don’t know her name. I don’t know any of the names of the people who rescued me. All I know is she took me somewhere safe. After a few months of nursing me back to health, they introduced me to Liza, who set me up here and told me when I was ready, I had a place to work, but only if I wanted to. I didn’t have to worry about anything for months. They gave me access to a therapist, but I never took them up on that offer. I did, however, start working at Desecration as a hostess. Then I became a dancer. And two years ago, I started sex work as a way of taking my power back from the people who’d hurt me.”

I let out a sigh and looked down at our joined hands.

“However, I’m beginning to see that because of the abuse, I suffer from hypersexuality. Even though I found an outlet at Desecration where I felt safe, I also see I cut myself off from relationships and making real connections with people. All I’ve ever felt good for is what I can do with my body. Meeting you has made me see I’m worth more than that. I deserve more than being treated like a sex object for men’s pleasure. And it’s time I stopped treating myself like that’s all I am too.”

Nineteen

Theia

I didn’t know whether admitting the part about him was a good idea or not but being honest felt right. The burden I’d been carrying around had lifted. I’d finally told my story out loud to another person. Someone I trusted with it. Who made me feel safe enough to be myself without fear of judgement or reproach.

When Gil let go of my hands, I looked at him, but he was busy pulling tissues from the box on my coffee table. I swallowed when he turned back to me, took hold of my chin, and mopped up my face without me saying a word or asking him to. Gil’s attention was solely on drying my eyes for a long moment. He lowered the hand containing the tissues but didn’t release me. He stared into my eyes, making my skin prickle all over from his scrutiny.

“Thank you for trusting me with your past. Sometimes I feel like saying sorry is kind of meaningless, but what I will say is, in my eyes, you are strong, brave, and resilient. And it’s okay if you’re still healing from your traumas. I understand and will never think less of you for it.”

My hands curled around my thighs to keep from reaching out and touching him. He was so close, and his words hit me in the chest, making more tears spill down my cheeks. He wiped one away with the pad of his thumb.

“Theia…”

The way he said my name was almost too much for me to handle. His deep voice was laced with concern.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

His expression softened a fraction.

“For what?”

“Being here and listening.”

He dropped his hand from my face and grabbed another tissue.

“I want to be here for you.”

My heart squeezed as he handed me the clean tissue. He dumped the others on the coffee table. His eyes darted around the room as if he was taking in our surroundings.

My living space had white walls, but I’d adorned them with black and white photographs of dancers. There were accents of blue and grey on the sofa, the cushions, and the rug under the coffee table. I’d never thought to buy a great deal of stuff or really make my flat into a home. Nowhere felt like home to me. Not after two years had been stolen from me. And no matter how safe I felt here, there had always been the lingering threat of them finding me again. Now the threat had come to fruition. Yet… I still couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone about it. At the end of the day, if they came for me, I’d run. I could never go back. I’d rather die.

“Have you had a sexual interaction with someone that was just for you?”

I wiped my face with the tissue he’d given me, shoving away my morbid thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

“You started sex work to take your power back, which I support by the way, but I’m questioning whether you’ve ever had sex be about you rather than what the client requests of you.”

My eyes darted away as I considered his question. I couldn’t be sure why he was interested, but I wasn’t going to lie to him about it either.

“Once… but it was also sort of work-related.”

“How so?”

Did it feel weird I was about to admit to my only sexual interaction outside of the club in the past four years to a man I wanted to have sex with but couldn’t? Yes… yes, it fucking well did. But I’d told Gil about the darkest parts of my past. This was tame in comparison.

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