His mother was naked, her arms chained over her head, and his equally naked father was flogging her ass.
His mother shuddering and moaning—-
Marcus at eight years old, taking his dick out, just as Federico had ordered him to—-
Raquel Ravelli turned around to face him, and Marcus demanded in a violent whisper, “Why?”
His mother only stared at him.
“Why,” he demanded savagely, “did you let him do it?”
Raquel shook her head, asking irritably, “Must we really do this?”
Marcus was furious and disbelieving. The woman was acting like he was making her late for her salon appointment. “Just say why—-”
She cut him off, snapping, “I don’t want to.” Wrenching her arm away from his hold, she got inside her car, leaving him devastated. He knew he should let her go now, but the memories ate at him and he found himself following Raquel inside her car.
He slid into the passenger seat next to her and as he pulled the door shut, he heard Raquel mutter an expletive under her breath.
Dio.His fists clenched in impotent rage. How could a mother be so damn callous to her only son?
“I just want to know the truth,” he said stonily.
“What for?” Raquel’s tone was defensive, and it was as if she had decided to take harbor in cruelty as she went on to spit, “Isn’t it enough that I got you safely to your grandmother?Your fatherwas thinking of killing you because he didn’t want risking you talking to another person about what happened. And I saved you from that. I saved you, and this is how—-”
“It’s not enough!”Marcus knew he was losing it, but he could no longer hold everything in. His emotions were on a rampage, and he was drowning in them. “You could have—-” He broke off as more memories rushed in, threatening to overwhelm his sanity.
It was as if the years that passed had disappeared, and he was an eight-year-old boy again, his dick out, his cum wetting his pajama bottoms, and he didn’t fucking understand why.
Why?
Why?
Why?
He looked at his mother, and she was the only one he could ask—-
The only one who knew what the stain in his soul was.
“Why?” he whispered hoarsely. “It didn’t have to happen in the first place. So why, damn you?Whydid you let it happen?”
They stared at each other, the monstrous silence between them becoming more vicious with every second that passed. And the longer he stared at her, this mother of his who was both familiar and unfamiliar—-
The more he remembered.
His mother hugging him and giving him good night kisses—-
His mother reading him bedtime stories—-
Marcus squeezed his eyes shut.
If only those were the only memories he could remember—-
But they were not.
His mother naked in chains, his father holding his veined dick—-
He remembered those, too.