** Warning: Mentions of rape (no scene) & graphic depictions of violence. **
I awoke to the sound of rummaging papers as a dull ache throbbed on the side of my head. Wincing in pain, my eyes slowly opened and I looked up to see Melody sitting at the kitchen table.
Instead of taking the time to call the police or change into something more decent, she was captivated by the collection of information in front of her.
"See something you like?" I inquired in a mutter as I attempted to move my hands. Particles, of what was mostly likely to be dirt, rubbed off of the rope that bound me to a chair, chafing my wrists.
Melody's eyes shot up, catching my glare. Lifting a picture into view, she asked, "Why did you take these?"
My eyes narrowed in.
It was of her, getting a tour of her new school. Her hair was up and she was wearing denim shorts and a pink crop top, which revealed a lot of skin. I wasn't the only one to notice as the man she was with, who was tasked with showing her where all of her classes were, was quite the flirt that day.
"I needed to figure out your schedule." My fingers reached to feel for the knot and I began pulling at its design.
"And this one?" She reached for a different picture, peeling the back of her thighs from the chair while she leaned forward. "You needed to figure out a pattern from my bedroom?"
Melody was standing at her dresser, preparing to change into some nightly attire. Her slick hair clinged to flushed shoulders, overlapping the towel wrapped tightly around her, and a trail of wet footprints followed closely behind from the dark hallway.
I swallowed, wondering if she found the box of her things. Though it was doubtful, since everything she was looking at now was in a folder left on the table by the lazy me; she would have to go searching through my closet to find any items I took from her.
"I'm not afraid to admit I'm smitten with you." I pressed against the back of the chair to sit up properly. It's not like you were meant to see those.
She turned the picture back to herself and stared intently, running a thumb along its glossy edge. "My dad was right... You were the one in my room, weren't you?" Her voice was almost a whisper.
"Speaking of your dad, I'm surprised you haven't called him or the police."
"Who's to say I didn't?" Melody snapped with a scornful look on her face.
Her words blanched my face and my entire body tensed up. Blood rushed to my legs, causing my arms to feel numb.
I need to get out of this.
I need out.
Feeling a panic attack revving up, I closed my eyes and took a couple deep breaths.
That's all I need to focus on...
The now.
"You're really afraid of him"—I could hear the smile in her voice—"and I guess I should have called someone, but I wanted to understand why."
"Why what?" I asked coldly, opening my eyes to look at her.
She shrugged, staring back at the papers on the table. "Why you raped my mom, why you came after me and—"
"First of all," I cut in, "I didn't rape your mother. Do you really think I'd still be walking around freely if that was the case? Second, with the work I do, everyone knows the best way to hurt someone is to go after their children. That's why your daddy was so paranoid."
Melody propped one of her elbows up on top of the table and rested her cheek in the palm of her hand. "I just... I want the truth about everything. After last night, I realized how blind I was; I didn't know anything."
"I'm surprised you didn't recognize me when I walked up to you."
Her hand traveled to her neck. "Honestly, you've changed a lot from the picture I saw four years ago. And after that, my mom just... kept really quiet about the whole thing"—her voice started to tremble—"I guess she wanted to protect me but..."
"It didn't work," I finished. The tips of my nails were bending from the pressure against the rope.
Parents can try to protect their children from the whole world, but eventually the walls they've built will come crumbling down and there will be nothing to stop reality from setting in.
I should know.
Melody's eyebrows were pulled together with the corners of her mouth drawn downwards. I assumed she was lost in thought, reflecting on everything... or wondering what she should do next. I clenched my teeth together, trying to avoid the guilt stirring inside of me.
"Why did you have to sleep with me?" The question was barely audible.
My eyes wandered. "Because..."
I love you.
Because I was thinking with my dick.
Because I thought it'd be fun to get fucked by the entire family...
The seconds that passed felt like an instant and I didn't know how to answer. I didn't know what the right answer would be.
"Because what?" she yelled, causing me to jump and my brain hammered against my skull.
I winced while struggling to find my voice. "I... I guess you just gave me the opportunity. How could I say no?"
The bridge of her nose twitched with contempt and she stood to her feet.
"Why would you believe anything I say anyways?" I blurted out. "I'm not exactly the most reliable source."
"Getting the information from the root of my family's problems makes it less likely that anything will be left out and it gives me more perspective—especially when I ask them about this. Plus, I'm not obligated to believe a word you say. So please... start from the beginning."
I exhaled deeply, relaxing my shoulders. "I fucked your mom, an older woman, like any eighteen-year-old boy dreams of doing. I didn't know she was married because she didn't deem it necessary to tell me."
"You didn't think to ask?" she sneered with the question I asked myself for two years. I know it would have made a difference if she had told me before we fucked, but at the end of the day it didn't matter.
I scoffed. "Well, when some broad goes to a club, cavorting around like a tramp and asks me to leave with her, I just assumed she was a morally sound whore who didn't have a family waiting for her."
"Don't call her that," she said, taking a step towards me.
"What? A whore? But that's what she is! Everything that's happened is because of her."
Her eyes were ablaze, burning a hole right through me. "Are you going to continue or what?"
My fingertips felt raw.
My eyes drifted to the right. "When your father found out, he got me alone and... had his fun."
"Wait"—she shook her head—"then why would they say that you raped her?"
I shrugged. "You're too caught up in that detail and to be honest, I really don't know. Maybe it was an excuse to explain what they did to me."
"And I was your means of getting even with them?"
I nodded. "You were my leverage, however the tables have turned."
"You're goddamn right. What? Did you just think you could overpower me with brute strength or were you too overcome with chauvinism to realize I know how to protect myself?" She took another step forward, standing directly in front of me. "I'm not weak!"
I held my tongue.
It wasn't that I thought she was physically weak, only mentally. Although it could be both, since she was too easy to deceive due to her being fixated on getting a dick fix rather than picking out the obvious signs.
"Is that all?" Melody turned her head and my eyes followed to see her phone sitting on the counter.
"Melody, I..." My voice was confident, but I hesitated once she looked back with a calm expression on her face.
Holding that gaze, I bided more time as I finally felt the inadequate knot loosen. I quickly pushed my index finger into the core of the knot, pulled a tail of rope through and it began to unravel.
I sighed. "I think that should be all."
Melody squinted her eyes before turning her back to me and I stood up behind her, nearly losing my balance. I grabbed her shoulder and jerked her body around to face me. Her face lit up with surprise and my knuckles made full contact with her cheek. Her hips slammed into the edge of the kitchen table, bending her forward, and she collapsed to the floor.
I stood over her, observing her more tenderly than I did her friend. Fortunately, my punch wasn't enough to blight her memorable face. However, after enough time, I was sure I'd see some physical evidence of my battery.
I knelt down, propping Melody by pulling on her arms and lifted her over my shoulder. My legs shook as I struggled to stand and I began making my way down the hall to the bolted room—a room where nobody would hear her screams.
"Nobody needs to know what actually happened to your family," I huffed with confidence.