Thresh Read online

  Thresh sensed that this was getting difficult, reached over, scooped me up in his one good arm. I clung to his neck as he lifted me easily and settled back in his chair with me on his lap. God, this was too right. Too good. His heartbeat was under my ear and his arms were around me, and he just made everything okay, and that scared the shit out of me.

  "The longer we were together, the better our sex life got. We experimented a lot, tried a lot of things." I burrowed against him. "Again, I'm sorry for bringing this stuff up, but it's relevant."

  His voice was something I felt more than heard, with my ear against his chest like this. "And again, I'm saying don't worry about it. I'm not okay with you getting hurt, obviously, but I'm not threatened by your past or whatever. We've all got history, Lola. Can't be tight with someone and not accept their past."

  "Right. Good point." I breathed in deeply, let it out slowly. "Then I won't mince words. Jeremy...he liked to watch us. He put a mirror on the ceiling, which I thought was hot. I could look up, and see him, and myself, and...yeah. But then he wanted to record us, and it was weird at first, but I got into it after a while."

  "Shit."

  "Sensing where this is going, huh?"

  "I fucking hope not."

  I let it all wash through me, let it well up and burst out. All the hurt, the anger, the confusion, the embarrassment, the betrayal. Let myself just...feel it.

  "He would watch our videos. Like, a lot. He got off on it, watching us. I didn't, like, get it, totally, but I was fine with it. Better that than porn or cheating or whatever, right? He was getting off to us, to me. So I was fine with it. He had a stash of these SD memory cards. He had a camera set up in our room, and he'd record us, every time we had sex. He'd take it with us if we went somewhere, or convince me to have sex with him outside somewhere. Always recording us. It was weird, I guess, but a harmless fetish, since I knew about it and was okay with it." I paused again, breathing, feeling. "I only said it in so many words once, that he couldn't ever let anyone else watch those videos. I mean, I'd hope it would be obvious, right? I assumed it was."

  "He showed someone?"

  I nodded against his chest. "Worse." I swallowed hard, tried to keep breathing. "He didn't just, like, show a buddy or something. I would have been pissed and probably would have broken up with him over it, but it wouldn't have...it wouldn't have fucked me up the way what he really did to me fucked me up. Shit, that made no sense, did it?"

  "I know what you're saying."

  "This is really, really hard, and I'm trying not to cry, and--"

  "Feel what you feel, Lola. Don't fight it."

  "I hate crying."

  "Me too. Only done it once, when my mom died. But I didn't fight it then, because she was worth crying over." He ran his hands in circles over my back. "So tell me what happened, what that fucker did, and if you cry, you cry. Only me around, sweetheart."

  I nodded. "He made a movie. Like, with Final Cut. Edited it, put a soundtrack to it. Our entire relationship, from the first time he took a video, which was within the first year after we had sex together, all the way through to the end. Everything we ever did. I was...wild, Thresh. I never held back, no inhibitions. I wanted it all, did it all with him. And he videotaped every single thing, and put it into a movie, and uploaded it onto the Internet. All the porn sites picked it up, shared it around."

  "Motherfucker." Thresh's voice was terrifyingly cold and hard. Vicious. "Why? Why would he do that?"

  I shook my head, shrugged. "I have no clue. Then he moved. Just vanished. I don't know why he'd do that. Was it all a long con? Some sick, fucked-up, long-term game? I don't know. I never got an answer. I couldn't afford a lawyer to get it taken down and, honestly, from what the lawyer said, it's like playing Whack-a-Mole. Take it down, and it'll pop back up. Once something is out there on the Internet, it's up there for good--it's nearly impossible to get something removed entirely."

  "It's still up there?"

  I nodded, tears flowing now, throat tight. "Yep. It's called 'Lola Loves to Fuck', and it's got over a million views, last I checked."

  "Jesus," Thresh said, under his breath. "I bet I could have Lear write some kind of program. A phage or something to sift and crawl and take it down. Probably could even make it so it infects the computer of anyone who watches it."

  I shook my head. "Then he'd see it."

  "Lear is a professional. He wouldn't watch it."

  "It doesn't matter."

  "It does matter," Thresh insisted.

  "Why? It's not going to change anything. I still got put out there for everyone to see. It's not going to change anything. Getting it taken down isn't going to fix me." I was crying hard by now. "He even taped me masturbating. Giving him blowjobs, taking it from behind, riding him, outside...everything. And the comments, god, the comments. The names people called me. The things guys said they wanted to do to me. I still get recognized every once in a while. 'Hey, you're Lola, from 'Lola Loves to Fuck',' and they think because Jeremy put that video out there that I'm a porn star or a whore or something, and they just assume I'm easy. Those moments were fucking private. And it wasn't like it was a spur of the moment thing, or a little clip from his phone sent by accident. He worked hard for a long-ass time on that video. He even did fucking dissolves and cuts and an intro and a soundtrack. He did it on purpose. It's a forty-five-minute video. Of me, having sex."

  "That's...Jesus, Lola." He smoothed his fingers through my hair. "That is honestly the most fucked-up thing I've ever heard."

  "Yeah." I thought I'd break apart when I told this story. Thought I'd sob. I was crying, but I wasn't a blubbering, ugly-crying mess like I thought I'd be. Of course, all I was doing was talking. "And that is why I haven't had sex in three years. I just couldn't. I stopped wanting it. I shut down. I'd gotten a spot at a private practice, my dream come true job--and they all watched it. They all saw it. That's how I found out, actually, from one of the other doctors at the practice. I left, got the job at the ICU, stopped talking to all my friends, because they all watched it. I couldn't--I could barely talk to people after that. After a while, I healed as much as I could, but I never really made any new friends, and I just couldn't even think about sex. Because I just--" I didn't even have words for it. I tried, but nothing came. "I just--couldn't."

  "Goddamn, Lola. No wonder you seemed so skittish."

  "You--there's something about you. You make me feel safe. I just...I don't know, I just innately trust you. But that scares me, because I trusted Jeremy too. I loved him. I really did. I thought he loved me, too. So it wasn't just the video being out there, it was the betrayal, the loss of Jeremy, the fact that he'd done it all, out of the blue, and then he just vanished, poof, gone. I was heartbroken on top of feeling betrayed. I trusted him. I really did.

  "But you--you're different. Jeremy earned my trust over a five-year relationship. There may have been signs I missed, I don't know--" I tilted my head to look up at Thresh. "I want to trust you. I like you. You scare me, but I also know I'm safe with you. And we have chemistry, Thresh. We really do. And I--I like that. You make me feel like the old me. The Lola who had no inhibitions, who wasn't afraid. Who was...brave, fierce, sexy. You make me want to find that girl again. Be her again."

  He cupped my face with his huge, hard, rough yet gentle hand. "I wish it was as easy as me saying you can trust me, but I know it's not. You can, though, you know. What that evil little fucker did, if I ever got my hands on him..." The threat in that ellipsis was enough to send a shiver down my spine.

  And he could find Jeremy, which was the really scary part. The people he worked with, they could find Jeremy in a split second. I tried not to think about whether I wanted that or not. I doubted Jeremy would survive the experience, for one thing, and I wasn't sure I would be all that upset. What he'd done, it was a kind of rape, wasn't it? I would never, ever compare what I'd gone through to what an actual rape victim goes through, because they weren't in any way the same, but...it was still a violation.

  "What I'm saying, Thresh, is that I do trust you. It's just scary. Part of me doesn't want to trust you. But I do."

  "I'll never let anything happen to you."

  I shook my head. "You can't say never, Thresh." I looked up and met his pale blue gaze. "That's part of my hang-up, with you. You're not staying in Miami. You'll move on. That's who you are. I don't expect anything but that."

  "Don't put expectations on me, Lola. You don't know what's possible. My boss, Harris, he just got married. His wife is on the team, even goes on some jobs with us. And before her? He was as married to the job and the single life as any of us. Anything is possible, okay? That's all I'm saying. Just because I've never settled down, just because I bounce around all the time now, doesn't mean that's how it always has to be."

  I blinked at him. "What are you saying, Thresh?"

  He groaned, wiped his face with his hand. "I don't know. I don't know, Lola. Just that... Whatever this is between us, it's not casual to me. I've never had anything but casual, so I for sure don't know what serious looks like, and I wouldn't know what I'm doing, but..." He paused, thought for a few seconds. "I'm saying I would like to think there's something real between us. That's what they say, right? In the books and movies--that we have something real? That I'd like to try? We could figure something out."

  "Thresh." I stood up, paced to the edge of the clearing, faced away from him. "I don't--I don't know what to say."

  "Me either."

  "Sounds like you're saying plenty."

  "Yeah, well, doesn't mean I know what I'm talking about. I'm sort of shooting from the hip, here. I like you. I respect you. I'm fucking insanely attracted to you. I feel like--like with you, I could really be...totally me. What you said about always holding back? That's how I've felt my whole life, with everyone I've ever been with. Holding back. Didn't want to hurt them or scare them. And the full force that is everything I am? Chicks think they can dig it, think they can handle it, but they can't." He was behind me. "I feel like you could. You could handle me, all of me, all of who I am, and you wouldn't be scared of me."

  I could barely find my voice. "I feel the same way."

  His hand slid across my stomach, and he pulled me backward, so I was flush up against his front. "So why wouldn't we see if...if there could be an us?" His lips touched my ear. "Because Lola, baby, I think we could have something amazing."

  I couldn't help a little laugh. "I'm honestly not sure the world is ready for what would happen if we got together for real. Global temperatures might rise a few degrees."

  "We'd cause tectonic shifts, maybe." There was humor in his voice, but also heat.

  I spun in place, and his chest was there, his heartbeat thundering against my cheek. His hand was on my back, low, at the base of my spine and daring lower. I pressed against him, loving far too powerfully the way my breasts felt crushed against his chest, the way his hand felt on my body, slipping daring fingers under the hem of my shirt to find bare skin.

  I loved it.

  And I knew I wanted more.

  I wanted to see all of him. Feel him above me.

  I tried to picture it, feel it, Thresh's massive body above me, moving, thrusting--

  Panic seized me.

  I buried my face against his chest and focused on breathing, the way my therapist taught me.

  "Lola?" Thresh, unfortunately, didn't miss my reaction. "What's wrong?"

  He tugged me back to the chair, sat down and hauled me onto his lap, snugged me against him, and fuck fuck fuck--he felt like home, and it scared the everloving shit out of me.

  "I picked up this guy at a bar, like three months after Jeremy uploaded the video. The guy--I don't even remember his name--he had no idea, I made sure. We were both half-drunk, but sober enough that I knew what I was doing. I let him take me home, to his place. We made out, and I was fine. He started groping, I was fine. It felt good. He was good with his hands, I remember that. Decent kisser, too. He got me out of my shirt, even got me riled up with his fingers. Then it got serious, and his clothes came off, and so did mine, and he grabbed a condom, and--" I breathed deep, let it out slowly through my mouth. "That was as far as we got. I freaked out. Like, total meltdown. It hit me out of fucking nowhere. I couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think. It was--it was so fucking weird, and terrifying. I felt--I felt like people were watching me. Like there was a camera live streaming the whole thing.

  "I knew, intellectually, that it wasn't true. But knowing something mentally doesn't help when you're wigging the fuck out. The poor guy, he had no clue what to do. He thought it was him, and it wasn't, it really wasn't. As soon as he noticed I was having an issue, he stopped and was trying to help, but I just--I barely made it home. The guy was so nice, got me into my clothes and got me a cab, actually rode in it with me all the way home and made sure I got there okay. I wish I could thank that guy, because he was a real gentleman. Never said anything negative. There are good people out there. I know that. But the second he was on top of me, I just--I freaked. I didn't really get a handle on myself until like twenty-four hours later. I had to call in to work and baby myself all the next day."

  "Jesus. No wonder you stopped having sex."

  I nodded. "Yeah. I didn't stop wanting it, though. Like, alone, I'd feel the thoughts, the desire, the urge, the need, and the frustration. So I'd try to take care of things myself, and I just--again, even alone, in my own apartment, touching myself, I felt like someone was watching me. Like I wasn't alone. Like Jeremy would pop out from somewhere with that fucking camera. I just couldn't. I tried so many times, and I'd get so angry, so frustrated, because I knew there was no reason for it, no one was there, no one was watching, but I couldn't shake the feeling.

  "I even tried sex again. This time with this hot kid doing his residency. Super sexy, super sweet, had a serious crush on me. I let him take me out. More than once, because it wasn't some random at the bar--which, by the way, I've never done, before that guy or since. So I let Mike, the hot doctor, take me out a few times, took him back to my place, and again, all through foreplay I was fine. Maybe because Jeremy didn't usually tape that part? I don't know. BJs and when he went down on me, sometimes. Not all the time. But rarely foreplay, usually just the actual sex. So Mike and I were hot and heavy, and it was great. He was super sexy and so sweet and had these super talented surgeon hands. He was planning on being a surgeon, once he was done with his residency, so he had these hands--" I halted my monologue. "Not too much, is it?"

  "It's fine." Thresh's expression and words didn't jibe.

  I frowned at him. "Thresh."

  He huffed. "Getting a little detailed, maybe, but tell your story your way and don't worry about me. It's all past, yeah?"

  I nodded. "Yeah. It's all past. So anyway, Mike and I got through the foreplay just fine. And when it came time to get down to real business, I made sure I was on top. I love it like that, or I used to. I thought maybe if I was in more control, I'd--maybe I wouldn't panic."

  Thresh made a rumbling sound. "No dice?"

  I shook my head. "No dice." I hated the memory of Mike's face when I'd freaked out, rolled off him, huddled in the corner of my room hyperventilating. He'd assumed what someone would logically assume, in that situation. "Poor Mike. He was so clueless."

  "Bet that made work awkward."

  I laughed. "Yeah, just a little." I tried to sort through the whirlwind of my thoughts and feelings. "I sometimes wonder if maybe part of the issue with the first guy and with Mike was that I wasn't really invested, you know? Like, by the time Jeremy and I had sex, I was pretty much totally in love with him already. It...it meant something to me, you know? Maybe you don't. I don't say that to insult you, I swear, but if all you've ever had is casual sex, it might be difficult for you to understand how different casual sex is from when it means something. So I just wonder if I was emotionally invested, if it might be easier. If I might be able to work through it. I think I'd still panic, but I might be able to work through it."

  "I get what you mean." His voice was quiet, as soft and gentle as I'd ever heard it. "There was someone, once. After I'd finished Basic, I had like ten days or so of leave time before I had to report to Camp Lejeune for SOI. I had nowhere to be, no one to visit, nothing to do. So I just sort of kicked it around Charleston by myself. Hooked up with this chick I met, god, I don't even remember how. Bar? Beach? Doesn't really matter. She was such a cool chick. Fine as hell, fun to talk to, easy to be around. Marie. It was only ten days, but it felt like a lifetime.

  "I met her the first day I hit Charleston, and we never separated that entire week and a half. I'd told her right off I had to report and when, so she knew. Made it all the more intense. We were together every single second, and it was...fucking incredible. We never talked emotions, because we both knew it had an expiration date, but they were there. I've never been good with emotions, so mine sort of freaked me out, and I'd cover it by going in after her, you know? Cover what I was feeling inside with feeling good outside, so I could push it away a bit longer. She was doing the same thing, I think." He was quiet for a moment. "I've always thought, deep down, when I'm feeling introspective--usually after a close call, like when something happens on a job that makes me remember my own mortality--I think about Marie and that maybe I could have fallen in love with her. Or that maybe I did, a little. Point is, sex with Marie did mean something. It wasn't just casual fucking. We didn't, like, use words to say as much, but we both knew, you know?"

  I nodded. "So you know what I mean."

  "Sure as hell."

  I twisted to look up at him. "Do you think--do you think it would make a difference to us? To be invested?"

  He let out a long slow breath, and didn't answer right away. I liked that about Thresh, how he always considered his words before answering. "Maybe. If the person you're with understands where you're coming from and sort of expects it, I think it might definitely make a difference, because he could listen and do what you need to help you through it."

  I rubbed my palm against his chest. "You know exactly what I'm saying, so quit mincing words."

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