Page 57 of Power
“Me. Us. Everything.”
“Tell me about Emily,” he pushes again.
I finish getting dressed and walk over to the opposite side of the room trying to put distance between us. Part of me doesn’t want to tell him, but I also know, Bennett isn’t the type of man who’s going to give up without a fight. “If I tell you about her, I need you to promise me that you’ll recall Grayson, and not assign another Secret Service agent to me.” His hesitation tells me he’s weighing up all his options. “If you can promise you’ll do that, I’ll tell you about Emily.”
Bennett finally nods. “Okay, I’ll have the Secret Service withdrawn.”
I let out a long sigh and smile. “Thank you.” I pick up his boxers and throw them at him. “Get dressed. You’re distracting, naked like that.”
Bennett stands and pulls up his boxers, then his jeans. “I need a coffee.” He opens the door to his bedroom, where we’re met by another Secret Service agent standing to the side. “Good morning,” Bennett says as we walk out.
“Good morning, sir,” the agent replies.
When we both walk across the hallway into the kitchen, the agent stands at the door with his back to us. “How do you take your coffee?” Bennett asks as he fiddles with the fancy coffee machine.
“Like, coffee,” I say with a smile. Though on the inside, my stomach is twisting with anticipation of what I’m going to tell him.
“Black? Cream? Caramel? How?”
“Cream no sugar.” Bennett prepares two coffees and carries them back to his room and the agent silently resumes his previous position. I close the door and turn to look at Bennett. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“You get no privacy; there’s always someone with you.”
“I get to close my bedroom door, and switch off even if it’s for an hour. It gives me a moment to unwind.” He walks toward his private room where the sofa, TV and library are. “Come on.” Bennett places the two mugs of coffee on the dining table and drags out a seat.
“I’ll stand,” I say as I grab my coffee and slowly pace back and forth. “I’m aware you’re watching me.”
“I am.”
My stomach tenses and my heart feels like a hand is closing around it, squeezing the life out of it. “When I was twelve, my mom’s then-boyfriend came into my room when he was really drunk, pulled the covers back and slid into bed with me.”
“What the fuck?”
I turn to look at Bennett and shake my head. “I just need you to be quiet while I tell you what happened.” He presses his lips together and nods slowly. “Nothing happened, but I was terrified. I couldn’t tell Mom because she was a horrible woman who would find any reason to beat me, or humiliate me, or degrade me.”
“So, you couldn’t do anything?”
I shake my head. “He had pinned me under his body, and I couldn’t move. When he woke in the morning, he was shocked at what he did and begged me not to say anything to my mother. Which of course, I didn’t. I knew if I did, I would’ve been in so much trouble because she would’ve made it my fault. So, I said nothing.”
“Okay.” Bennett breathes heavily, but I notice he brings his mug up to sip on his coffee, covering the angry breaths.
“It was about a week later, he did it again. He and Mom liked to drink a lot, most times to the point of passing out.”
“Do you have any siblings?” I shake my head. “Okay, go on.”
“The visits to my room became more frequent, and his drinking became less while Mom’s increased.”
Bennett sighs and rubs his hand across his forehead. “Fuck.”
“It didn’t take long before he started touching me, which then escalated. I was twelve. I had no one to turn to, so feeling helplessly alone, I felt I had no choice but to let him do what he wanted.” I feel sick even talking about this. “Then one morning, Mom burst into my room and found him on top of me.”
“When you were twelve.” His face is hard.
“Yeah, it was about a week before my thirteenth birthday.”
“Tell me she called the police on his sorry ass.”
