DOTTIE

I’m not disgusted like he’s presuming I am. I am sickened and disheartened by the aspect that Bull partook in this type of activity. That thought is accompanied with the fact that I do, however, feel sad for these women. What type of life have they lived that they feel using their bodies is the way to gain protection and feel safe?

“What are you thinking, Dot?”

“An array of different things, Bull.” My admittance of truth and honesty has a heavy sigh escaping from deep within his chest. His head hangs, he begins picking at his cuticles, brushing his fingertips across each other. “I’m sad, alright?”

His head snaps up and his fingers cease all movement. “Why?”

“A few different reasons,” I reluctantly admit.

“Break them down individually for me, baby,” he insists.

“The one that saddens me the most is the fact that the man I’m falling in love with, along with his brothers that I’m growing to admire, use a woman’s desperation as a way to try her out.”

“That’s not how it is,” he argues, his arms now crossed over his impressive chest. Under any other circumstance, I’d be drooling, but this is serious shit, at least to me, and I want him to understand what I’m saying.

“Isn’t it though? Let me give you a scenario about a girl I knew growing up who most likely has a past comparable to the bunnies.”

“Alright,” he groans, a frown marring his face.

“I’m gonna ignore that miserable groan,” I berate. “My friend, Hampton, and her twin sister, Hilton, had a fabulous life to those outside looking in. Rich parents, nannies, butlers, maids, cooks, fancy houses, top of the line clothes, she had the best of everything. So many of us were envious of the lives being portrayed in front of us by her and her twin. Even me,” I confess.

“This isn’t going to be one of those happily ever after type of endings, is it? And what’s up with those names? Was their father a hotel concierge or something? Maybe a tycoon involved in building them?”

“No to both. This is one of those cases where you learn not to judge a book by its cover type of story,” I answer his first question then proceed to the next. “I don’t know the stories behind their names, the girls never came out and said one way or another and would clamp up every time someone would ask them about it. I’m presuming it's nothing whimsical and heartfelt based around their reactions, which never varied no matter how many times or different ways they were asked. Anyway, Hampton Eloise and Hilton Eliza James were stunningly beautiful twin sisters and had the matching souls of angels. All the girls at school wanted to be them, and all of the boys wanted to date them.”

“Were?” Bull asks, swallowing hard enough to where I see his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Fuck.”

I pretend that he didn’t interrupt me and continue speaking. “Behind closed doors, their father was a monster disguised underneath a business suit and tie. The girls’ mother would numb herself to the abuse she suffered at her husband's hand with copious amounts of alcohol and cocaine. Hampton and Hilton, unfortunately, didn’t have access to anything that’d help them escape the pain and betrayal from a man who should’ve loved them unconditionally and without abandon. He was a fucking pig who needed to be taken to the farm and slaughtered.” At this point, I’m emotionally worked up and shaking like a leaf as tears well up in my eyes once again for the two teens who never stood a chance thanks to their asshole of a father.

“Dot, please let me hold you,” Bull pleads. “I can’t stand you being that far away from me when you're feeling jacked up because of shit like this.”

I decide to do as he asks, because for one, anytime I repeat this story, my heart breaks. For two, being wrapped in his arms will give me the courage and comfort I need to get through telling it intact. Crawling back to him on my hands and knees, I leap into his open arms and bury my head into the curve of his neck.

“That’s my girl,” Bull states, kissing the crown of my head. “It’s gonna be alright, sweet girl, I’ve got you.”

“I know you do, Bull, I trust you. Where was I?” I briefly close my eyes, collect my thoughts and once I remember where I stopped, I pick the story back up where I left off. “Their father was basically pimping his daughters out to his associates for business partnership opportunities and perks.” I can feel the nausea roiling in my gut despite the fact it’s been several decades since all of this happened.

Bull’s arms tighten around me, keeping me grounded. He spits out the question, “Perks?”

“That was what one of the men who was part of the ordeal said in court when it was exposed… after.”

“After what, Dot?”

“After Hampton met a man at a party that she thought was a prince who came into her life and whisked her away from her nightmare. They met at a party that was put together at the last minute to celebrate a huge win for our school’s football team. Kenneth was four years older than us and his brother, Michael, was an upperclassman at our school. We were sophomores and thought we knew more than everybody else. Once Kenneth showed interest in Hampton, Michael followed his brother's path and went for Hilton. Two brothers dating twin sisters, that was a huge deal for my friends. They thought they’d finally found something worth living for, but they were wrong, so very, very wrong. The Carrington brothers broke something in the James’ girls that was more harmful and damaging than what their father had done.”

“What’d the boys do to your friends, my sweet Dot?”

He sounds almost hesitant to ask me, as if he knows what he thought would be a shitty situation is actually so much more than that, but I continue moving forward, telling the sordid, sad, horrific tale of two girls who in reality just wanted what everyone else does; to be loved, cherished, adored. Since they didn’t get it from their sperm donor, they were more susceptible to that kind of overture from other men.

“They shattered their self-esteem, Bull, and made those girls codependent. They relied on the brothers for everything. They didn’t wear clothes that weren’t preapproved by the asshats. They didn’t eat a morsel of food unless the boys authorized it first, “gotta keep those slender figures so we stay interested”, they’d always tell the girls, which would make them paranoid because their only choices were between them or their dad. And since the boys’ parents were criminal prosecutors, they managed to manipulate Mr. James and get custody of the girls through blackmail, and moved my friends under the same roof with a family of mental, and emotional abusers. They no longer spoke or hung out with their friends unless it was permitted by them. After six months of this, they’d managed to push all of their friends away and had no one.”

“How long did they stay in the Carrington household?” Bull inquires.

“Until they graduated, and the boys got tired of playing their games. Since they’d already broken both girls, those assholes were ready to move onto new women and all but tossed them on the streets with no more than a pat on the head and words of good luck. They had nothing, Bull. No money, no family, or friends to help them.”

“This is a fucked-up story, Dot, but how is this like the club bunnies?”

I shake my head, and blow out a puff of air. The next part of the girls' lives I need to share will be both stunning and horrific. And this is the part I fear will hit a little too close to home for him.