Page 250 of Tempting Venom
For the most part, the boyfriends barely stuck around, and I don’t remember their names or faces.
But one of them did.
His name was Claude Lavoie.
He was Mom’s kind of long-term boyfriend. He worked with money as a partner in a wealth management firm and talked about other people’s money a lot.
And Mom loved that. But what she loved more was the access to the plush lifestyle and the privileges she’d lost after the divorce. Claude used to tell her she deserved a lot more than what Dad gave her.
He was tall, presentable, and had a trainer’s body. He talked in a suave voice, wore the right clothes, said the right words, and ate the right food.
But I never liked him.
The first time I met him, when Mom brought him to our house, he had a strange look in his dim brown eyes. It was different from how her other boyfriends looked at me. They were either disinterested or faked interest; one of them even pretended to be fatherly, like Dad.
Not Claude.
The first time he met me, he didn’t even attempt to put on a show. He just assessed me.
After that, I felt…scared around him, and I didn’t know why.
Mom loved him, though. She was happy with him, and all her friends fawned over him. He was charming and good-looking and had everyone’s attention and trust.
Not mine.
I just hated it whenever he touched me. His hand would press on my shoulder for too long, or he would try to sit me on his lap when Mom wasn’t there, which gave me a weird feeling.
When he kind of moved in with us, I threw a tantrum andtold Mom I wanted to go back to Dad’s. She got drunk and started crying.
“You’re just like your papa, Preston! You’ve become as unfeeling as he is. You have the heart to leave Mommy all alone?”
I didn’t.
Also, Dad had an annoying girlfriend at the time, and I thought he wouldn’t want me there.
He never really asked me to move back in, so I thought he’d truly abandoned us like Mom said.
All these years, I’ve been thinking that maybe I should’ve insisted back then. When Claude moved in, I should’ve moved out.
Because that’s when it all started.
The lingering touches lingered more, and he often came into my room while I was doing homework.
He’d steady my shoulders and lean in from behind. He’d push my hair from my eyes and say I looked so pretty. Like a cute, little girl.
It made me feel sick.
But I didn’t say anything to Mom, because I was so scared she’d start crying again or say it was my fault she was sad and miserable all the time.
I was just scared she’d abandon me like Dad did.
So when Claude snuck into my room at night, when I heard the low creak of the door and the floor under his weight, I bit my lip. When he touched my face and made these ugly noises, I pretended to be asleep.
When he whispered, “You’re so fucking pretty, Preston,” as my face was smeared with hot jelly water, my lips trembled, but I kept them shut.
“You’ll stay quiet for me, yes?” He cleaned my face withfingers that burned me everywhere they touched me. “With a face like that, it’s your fault I can’t control myself.”
After that, Claude came to my room every night for more than a month.
