Push (BXB)

Deep

•••••••••••••Trigger Warning••••••••••

***Mak's POV***

Exposing the single most embarrassing event of my childhood has taken a toll. I was okay as long as that detail was locked safely away in my skeleton closet. It's easy to ignore shit when it's hidden in the deepest parts of your mind.

Now, people I respect know that a pedophile defiled me.

I can't even look Grey in the eyes. I'm embarrassed and I feel worthless.

The weight of that single event rests heavily upon my chest. I would do anything to change it. Really. Anything.

Worse than the reality that I am a victim of a serial child molester, is the fact that I could have stopped others from being hurt. That guilt is like an anvil sitting on my chest.

I requested time off work from Human Resources. I didn't bother telling Grey. He would have stayed home with me. Instead, I lied. Yeah that's exactly the wrong thing to have done. I know that. Yet, I couldn't think of any other way.

I told him I'm sick. I guess in a way I am. I'm mentally sick.

I lay in bed wondering what will happen now. All the men in my life are pissed, rightfully so. I still have a deadline to return files that are not in my possession. They are locked in evidence, god only knows where.

Carl has located me. That is the scariest part of it all.

I want to leave the house but, Kip nor Mario would allow it. So, I just lay here. Honestly, I don't even know where I would go. I just feel something. Off, maybe. Hell. I don't even know how I feel.

I close my eyes and lay on my back. My mind recollects memories that are too troublesome to ignore. The thought of that disgusting man's member in my mouth makes my stomach hurt.

I curl into a ball, rocking back and forth. Why would someone hurt a child? What gratification could possibly be attained by sticking your penis somewhere it doesn't belong.

I have had sex. It was amazing. Had Grey not been willing, I could never have enjoyed myself.

I really can't process how Carl ever climaxed with my tear filled eyes pleading him to stop. How could he finish knowing I was scared, a baby. I was twelve for fucks sake. I had never even touched myself.

The thoughts run on loop in my head. I can't deter them. Like a race car at Talladega, they just keep circling the track. My hands find my hair and I pull. I pull and pull and pull. The pain is bearable and offers a distraction.

I need a distraction.

Jumping up, I pace. The anger builds. That fucker stole something from me. There is no replacement. It's just gone, in it's place lies vibrant images of an organ I have no business remembering. The sounds of his oinks and pants as he pushed my head into his crotch echo off the walls of my cranium. My head hurts. It throbs relentlessly.

They grow louder, filling the room with lust filled growls from a grown man. I shouldn't know that sound. It wasn't mine to hear. I just don't want to hear it. I don't want to know the length of his sexual organ. I don't want to know the fact that he is uncircumcised. These aren't my details. I shouldn't have this knowledge. My heart pounds mercilessly against my chest.

I don't want the scent of his disgusting body to fill my nose. Tears leak from my eyes. That smell. I have never been assaulted by something so revolting in all my life. Sweat, alcohol, cigars and a distinct hint of something musky. My stomach lurches.