Page 60 of Volatile Waters

Commenting about this horrid theory out loud, for the very first time, had me realizing how absurd it truly was. “It is supposed to be a deterrent. It is supposed to make you no longer desirable. He should no longer want you.” She gasped as if I’d just sliced her with a blade. I closed my eyes and faced the ceiling again. “Does it sound crazy?”

“It sounds… hurtful.”

I stayed quiet, hoping she would explain.

She did. “If another man, one raping me, is enough to make him want to dump me—”

I glanced at her. “Dump?”

“Oh, umm… Break up with me.”

I raised a brow. “Break you?”

Her eyes widened. “No. I mean… uh, end our relationship.”

“Oh.”

She rushed, “My point is, I want to know if he will let me go after such a horrible thing.”

“Why?”

“Because, if after I was to be raped, soiled, if he still wanted me, then I would know we are the real deal.”

I thought for a moment then asked, “But why should it matter?”

After her mouth gaped open and she stared at me as if I were baffling her, she finally asked, “Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

Absurd. “What for?”

“What for?” She blinked. “Well, to love someone.”

I gestured to our present situation. “Are you not comprehending what I’m about to do and why?”

Shaking her head no, as if to clear her mind, she closed her eyes in dismay. “To fall in love is a dream. At least, that is what cartoons have taught me.”

“You are starting to sound more confused than I.”

Opening her eyes, she whispered, “My mom’s pimp wasn’t the best role model. He handed me a remote and told me to watch cartoons while he sold my mom in the bedroom.”

Now, this was a lifestyle I knew, so I asked, “When did he start selling you?”

“He never got the chance. By fourteen, I was his girlfriend.”

Her attraction and acceptance of Kirill’s profession were now making much more sense. It’s all she knew. She grew up in a similar environment.

Valerie continued, “He didn’t want to share me at first. That changed after his ‘partner’ raped me.” She rolled to her side, drawing her legs into her stomach. “Yeah, so I know what being soiled is all about. I thought my boyfriend would kill his partner, not turn me out to the streets.” She wiped away more tears. “On my first run, that’s exactly what I did. I ran. Never looked back. Not even for my mother, who was too hooked on crack to notice anyway. I’ve been dancing ever since.” She wiped snot from under her nose. “So, that is why I need you to—” She blew out a trembling breath. “I can’t handle Kirill treating me the same as him. I need to know a rape won’t change how he feels about me.”

I guess I should’ve been thinking about the upcoming rape, but instead, my mind wondered on my own slaves. If one were to somehow make it home, I wondered how their family would receive them. Tainted? Soiled? Dirty? It was the first time I considered that surviving my training wouldn’t be their only battle. Surviving the mental scars I caused would be another mountain to conquer. And, if any boyfriend, girlfriend, or family weren’t supportive, it would be nearly impossible.

I could no longer rape Valerie. Our conversation had gone far past a sexual act. Actually, knowing some of her history somehow made her more human to me. Surprising me, I could no longer view her as the meat I had claimed her to be earlier, so I stood and started pulling up my pants.

From the bed, Valerie gasped. “What are you doing?”

“Warning you about us. Go home, Valerie. Live a better life. What your pimp boyfriend did? Kirill and I make him look like child’s play.”