Page 76 of The Addict

“Come here, Noah.”

I came, afraid of the power my father held. I was obedient during that time of my childhood. I hadn’t understood the rape of my mother when I was seven, but knew deep in my heart that David terrified me. I tried desperately all of those years to push away the thoughts of my mother screaming for help, and the pain she endured.

“Yes, father?”

David patted the empty spot on his bed. “Come, sit with me, son.”

I sat next to him, curling up underneath his strong arm.

Times had been worse.

David sighed, looking down at me with a strange intensity. I didn’t know what that emotion was called at the time.

“You’re a big boy now, aren’t you?” David asked, stroking my arm. I nodded, glad that my father was actually showing me some attention. “How old are you?”

“Nine.”

That interaction was different than normal. Usually, I was just cast aside and ignored by both Damian and David. Typically, all of the time David spent outside of work was with Damian, so one on one with me was few and far between. The extended family always called me a little burden. I was always in the way. A virus infiltrating the blueprints to Damian’s future life plans. For extended periods of time, we were forbidden from seeing one another. David would tell me I distracted him from his duties. It would be a miracle if I got to see either of them on a regular basis.

They would tell me things like, “Damian has work to do, Noah,” or, “Your mother cannot play with you now, Noah, she and your father are helping Damian.”

And by “they” I meant the nannies my father would hire to keep me company. I had no one else—only the older females that would come over every day, each one for a different day of the week so I wouldn’t get bored. I was not allowed to have any male nannies or friends.

I soon found out why.

“What a big boy,” David whispered. “You have grown so much.”

A warm pressure of his hand on my stomach slipped lower. “Take off your pants, Noah.”

I fidgeted underneath his grip.

“Please, no!”

I could barely breathe through the pain.

“That’s right. Only I can do this to you, Noah.”

“You’re hurting me!” I screamed but no one would hear me. I knew people were home. I knew Damian had to be just a few rooms over. I was sure of it. Where was my big brother when I needed him?

Wouldn’t anyone help?

“Be a man, Noah. I know you like it.”

“Father,” I was numb. “Father, p-p-please–” I choked on my own tears. Why wouldn’t he stop?

“Stop, please-”

“Quit your sobbing!”

Each punch hurt worse than the last.

“Daddy loves you, Noah.”

The words never matched the action. I was thrown to the floor. Beaten. Bruised. Torn.

Broken.

Completely and utterly broken.