4
Valerie
Nineteen wasn’t such a bad age to find out that a person could say “I love you” and still hit you hard enough to make the world go silent and stars appear. I had time, I reasoned, to accept this fact and maybe make something of myself in spite of it.
I would be more careful next time. I wouldn’t trust a sweet, caring man simply because he seemed sweet and caring. I would know that the horrors I’d witnessed in foster care were just the tip of the iceberg when it came to human cruelty. The ring of purple around my left eye guaranteed it.
Dabbing at the bruise with my finger and some dollar store concealer, I tried to return my face to its normal state. Randall hated it when he saw my bruises. Granted, he had given them to me to begin with, but in his mind – I’d deserved it, he was simply carrying out justice, and I was responsible for hiding the consequences of my duly delivered punishment. Failure to minimalize, if not completely mask the myriad of colors unnaturally decorating my features at any given time only ensured that I would have more bruises to cover shortly.
Today’s art project was turning out to be slightly more difficult than any of the previous. I hadn’t just served Randall the wrong dinner – I had served it lukewarm. It had completely ruined his night – or so he’d told me. He’d then completely ruined my face, and shortly after made sure to remind me that his brother was coming over to “hang” the next day. He didn’t need me looking like a wartime refugee in front of his family.
I could hear the deep voice of his brother, Tim, in the background as I frantically spread more and more makeup around on my skin, knowing that the effort was futile. I needed an actual mask to cover this one up.
“I don’t know why you took in that little bitch anyway, Randy. Women are just one giant pain in the ass. They ain’t worth the shits they take in your shitter,” Tim preached.
“You better watch yer mouth, Timmy. Val just needs a little more time. I’m breaking ‘er in. She’s gonna be a trooper in a few years. And don’t you call my woman shit,” Randall barked back – assumedly defending my honor, which he’d destroyed months ago.
“She’s hardly a woman, Randy. That’s a girl you got. A girl,” Tim returned, not deterred in the least from sharing his deep-seated opinions.
“Yer just jealous cuz I got myself a nice, tight pussy, and you ain’t got shit. Val’s hotter than all your bitches added together,” Randall declared, laughing so loudly that the entire trailer shook.
“I’m tellin’ you, she ain’t worth the hassle. Yer gonna lose your damn mind trying to keep that girl in line. You need you an older one – one with tits that are startin’ to sag and a face that ain’t nobody never wanted to look at twice. Them are the ones that are loyal as fuck,” Tim continued, explaining his taste in women with inspired precision and care.
“Oh, don’t you worry. Val is loyal. She knows I saved her from herself. Probably would have whored herself out eventually – bein’ she’s just a dirt-poor orphan. Owes me the world, that one. And no reason why that pretty face should be givin’ it to the whole town for a few bucks when she can give it to me for a damn roof over her head and food on the fuckin’ table,” Randall seemed to grow angry as he said this, and I cringed, knowing he was thinking of last night’s unacceptable dinner.
“Sure, sure, Randy. Whatever you say. But let’s just say she proves you wrong. Maybe she tries to cut ya in yer sleep or fucks one of the neighbors? She still gonna be yer sweet little angel-face then?” Tim simply couldn’t stop poking the bear. He was enjoying it too much.
“Of course she’ll still be my angel-face, you prick. She’ll just be my deader than a doornail angel-face. Six feet in the ground and sweet as ever!” Randall quipped, and they both burst into laughter, finally coming to a point they could both agree on.
“Well, if ya ever do decide to get rid of her, at least lemme have a little fun before you put her out of her misery. She is ‘bout the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen in this hellhole town. Don’t wanna waste that,” Tim suggested, sounding cold and sick and brutal.
“You better not ever say nothin’ like that ever again, Tim. You fuckin’ hear me? I don’t care if I decide to kill ‘er tomorrow – you ain’t never stickin’ that pencil dick anywhere near Val. She’s mine. You fuckin’ understand that?” Randall growled. I knew – incredibly well – that he’d gone from laughter to fury in a split second, and I could only imagine the look on his face.
“Oh, settle down, brother. I’m just kiddin’. Man. You love this girl or something?” Tim needled, apparently not as scared of Randall’s rage as I was.
“Of course, I love her. Ain’t never loved anybody like I love that little precious thing,” Randall replied quietly. It nearly made me cry – not because of the sentiment, but simply because it further drove home the point that the first person who’d ever really “loved” me had turned out to be a cold-blooded monster.
“Dangerous ground, Randy. Dangerous ground. You start caring that much about one deceitful little bitch, and it’s gonna be the death of you,” Tim admonished, abruptly sending the thought through my head that I hoped they both would die - of anything - as soon as possible.
“She ain’t deceitful, and I told you to watch yer fuckin’ mouth. Val’s gonna do exactly what I want her to do for the rest of her goddamn life. And if she ever gets it into her head to do anything else, she ain’t gonna be able to anyway. I’ll end her ‘fore I let her disrespect me,” Randall’s authoritative, booming voice was most certainly meant to reach my ears at this point. “Christ, she’s been in the bathroom for way too long. It’s time for lunch. Lemme go grab ‘er.”
I froze, checking the mirror to see if I was anywhere near “presentable” to be seen and serving food. The bruise stared back at me – less purple but still very much visible. The abuse was beyond obvious.
Randall threw open the bathroom door and my heart stopped while I waited for his anger to settle in at my failed attempt to hide my punishment. Would he hit me while Tim was still here, or wait for privacy?
But instead of displeasure, Randall smiled widely, and guided me out of the bathroom into the long, narrow hallway. “That’s okay, sweetheart. We’ll let this one slide. Timmy needs to see just how dedicated you are to this relationship. C’mon.”
I walked obediently beside Randall, his hand on my lower back. It almost seemed like this must be a movie – someone else’s life. Why me? Why would I end up here? And then again, why wouldn’t I end up here...
“I love you, Val,” Randall whispered, squeezing my ass roughly and then leaving me to follow him like the “trooper” that I was. “Love”, it had turned out, was the most horrible atrocity I ever could have imagined.
It had all been a big mistake. I didn’t know the first thing about fancy parties – “black tie events”, or whatever Penn had called it. Even if I could somehow fake the social aspect of such a gathering, my wardrobe alone would scream to the world that I was an imposter. I wasn’t even the type of girl that would be hired to waitress such an event – let alone attend.