couldn’t identify the source immediately. Was it the tears leaking from her wide, innocent eyes? Was it the feeling of being pressed against a hard mattress? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that the man above her continued saying everything was okay. And she believed him. Why wouldn’t she? He constantly told her she was safe with him, protected, that he would never let anything happen to her. So what was happening now?
“Oh Janey, I love you so much. You’re so beautiful,” he murmured as his lips ran over her bare skin.
Jane shivered, despite the hotness that began to consume her. She felt every touch, every caress as his hands continued to touch her in places she only just recently became aware of. She was panting now, this seemed to make him happy—encouraged him to reach lower and lower. Jane bit her lips as he let out a groan, rubbing his fingers against her.
“I’m going to protect you, I promise. I will never let anyone hurt you,” he cooed as he pulled back to look into her gaze. “Don’t cry. You aren’t scared, are you?”
She shook her head no. Jane wasn’t even sure why she was crying, other than the fact that she somehow knew that whatever they were doing would definitely displease her sister. He told her before that no one could know. That horrible things would happen to the both of them if that was the case. He made her promise that whatever they shared together was a secret—their secret. It made Jane feel special to have a secret with someone—it gave him her trust, even though her eight-year-old self was unaware of this.
“You don’t want me to stop, right?” he begged, fondling her small frame as he continued to drag his lips from her neck, down her flat chest and towards the center of his sick desire. “Don’t I make you feel as good as you make me feel, Janey?”
She couldn’t disagree with him—her lips would not let her. All she knew was that what they were doing pleased him so immensely—the last thing she wanted to do was make him mad, or worse, make him leave. He was the only person besides her sister who ever told her he loved her.
He took her silence as confirmation. She watched helplessly as he pulled away from her, only to start untying the string on his faded pajama pants. He was back on her in what seemed like a matter of seconds. Jane felt as if she’d been lying there for hours. She had no idea what was coming, only that it must be something monumental. All of the times before, he’d never taken his clothes off, only hers. The feeling of his manly body was foreign. She was highly aware of his chest hair scratching against her softness, the feel of something hard and hot pushing insistently between her legs. He flattened her out as his flesh moved over her, slowly. Jane felt a twinge of panic, the inability to get free as he held her in place.
She would have screamed but at the last second, he muffled her voice with his tongue, like a frog trapping a fly in its mouth. She tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let her. She could feel her tears now steadily falling down her cheeks and landing against the wrinkled sheets beneath her. The pain inside of her was unbearable.
His large hand replaced his mouth as he pulled back to hush her in the softest voice she ever heard, “It’s okay sweetheart, don’t worry, it will stop soon. I promise you after that you’re going to feel so good. I promise, Janey. You’re my special girl. Who is my special girl?”
He moved again and she whimpered against his hot palm. Whatever was inside her was much too big, it wasn’t right. She didn’t want this. But she couldn’t tell him. She watched him instead—his face in rapture, his eyes closed as he moved in and out of her. After a few minutes the feeling became different, numb. This didn’t feel good like all the times before. It was nothing like the soft touching and teasing. This was too much. But Jane loved him. So she continued to lie there and pretend she was having fun.
“Move with me,” his ragged voice encouraged.
It seemed to last for hours. She concentrated on the shadows dancing across the walls, the elegant flow of the movement she could not recognize as her own.
Finally he stopped, once again removing his hand from her face to replace it with his lips. His tongue in her mouth felt soothing now that he was no longer hurting her and Jane grasped onto that. She would show him the affection that he needed just as much as she.
“Did you like that? I did. It made me very happy.”
“Yes,” she lied as she smiled up at him through her red-rimmed eyes.
“We can do it again, Janey. As many times as you want.”
She rolled over onto her side as he began to dress. She pulled the covers over her body and attempted to fall asleep. He’d slipped in from Ellie’s room sometime around midnight. Jane turned her head to look at the clock—it was now almost four. A small red blinking dot caught her attention from the dark corner of the room.
He was back now and dressed, his breath ghosting against her brow as he leaned down one more time to kiss her, “Who is my special girl?” he asked in a low tone.
“Me.”
“That’s right. And this is our special secret, right?”
She nodded her head in agreement.
“I love you, Janey.”
Those words made any pain worth it. Her eyes were beginning to fall shut, her young body exhausted from their ‘playtime.’
The last thing she saw was Dave Collins move into the blackness beyond and disappear along with the red blinking light.