This chapter is dedicated to KLNHeartbreaker97 who was one of my very first readers on Wattpad and left my very first comment. Thanks so much for all your support during my writer's journey :)

Trigger Warning: The next two chapters deal with sensitive and very emotionally charged material. Read with caution and please ask questions if any of the content is unclear or disturbing.

7 – A New Acceptance

After Marcus took my innocence that first night, it took me almost two weeks to muster up enough courage to tell my mom. I felt dirty and despicable, uncertain if I wasn't at least partially to blame, but most of all, I didn't think she would believe me. Yet, when Marcus wasn't easing up, his nightly visits turning into a routine whenever we were alone at the house, I couldn't keep quiet any longer.

My mom was in the living room, already knocking back her first glass of Scotch when I strolled in. My eyes fell on my baby brother Lamar who had just turned one year a few days ago. He was in his little walker next to her, just drooling as he glared into space. I figured that he couldn't comprehend anything anyways, so there wouldn't be any harm if he was around to hear about Marcus's rape. Marcus had taken Alyssa to a ballet lesson and this might be my only chance to catch my mom alone for a while.

I lowered myself onto the stuffed chair next to her. The leather felt cool against the back of my kneecaps. I ignored the dull pain that was throbbing in my abdomen; it had been there since the first time it happened but lessened the more Marcus forced himself on me.

"Mom, I have to tell you something." I bit my lip, unsure how to continue when her dark eyes pierced into me. Her pupils were slightly dilated, she must have had more drinks already than I thought.

"What is it, Patrice?" She tossed her long hair over her shoulder, studying her fingernails. With a sigh, she polished over a part where a little bit of paint had chipped off. "Shoot, I already need another manicure," she mumbled more to herself.

My heart plummeted into my stomach. She couldn't show me any less disinterest if she had tried.

"Mom, this is really important." Only five minutes of her undivided attention was all I needed.

"Yeah, okay." With a sigh, she tore her gaze off her fingernails. Her eyes narrowed when I didn't immediately continue. "You're not pregnant, are you?" A scowl wrinkled her forehead. "I mean, Dad told me you were fooling around with that boy. I swear, Patrice, if he knocked you up. . ." She let the rest of her sentence trail off but there was no doubt she would sic her husband on Keith if she had any proof of sexual activity.

"No, Mom, I'm not pregnant." Tears filled my eyes. "Dad, he—" I stumbled over my words as despair washed over me. Maybe I should just forget the whole thing.

"He what?"

"He—" My fingers twisted together. "He touched me."

Confusion spread on her face as she squinted at me. "He beat you?"

"No." I couldn't stop the tears from falling. Pain bubbled in my chest—this was a bad idea.

"Then what is it?" Her gaze returned to her fingernails.

"He raped me." The words were so soft that I didn't know if I actually spoke them out aloud or whether they were just a thought.

"Are you fucking serious?" She huffed as she raised her head. "Making up a bunch of crap won't get you ungrounded." A vicious sparkle glowed in her eyes. "Hell, I can't believe he's actually right. You are out of control, Patrice, lying like that."

"I'm not lying." My voice was shrill despite my tears. "He has been coming to my room every time you've stayed at grandma's. Please, Mom,"—a sob mixed with an throbbing stab to my heart—"you have to believe me."

She snorted. "Wait until I tell your dad about this. You think grounding you for the summer is bad? You deserve more for making up this kind of shit."

I jumped onto my feet. "I hate you."

The door slammed behind me when I stormed out. I felt like a fool. My mom had never cared about me. I was so done with her. Trusting her again was out of the question.

~~~~

Of course she told Marcus as soon as he got home an hour later. I heard them laugh in the kitchen when he assured her that the rape was just a figment of my imagination to plot them against each other. My mom's speech was so slurred that I doubted she would even remember their chat tomorrow morning. He sent her to bed shortly afterward and she whiningly obliged as if she was a little child.

I didn't have to wait long until he appeared in my room.

"So, you confided in your mom." He smirked. "I could've told you that she'd never believe you."

Though his voice was soft, almost humorous, his eyes spilled over with anger. He lowered himself on the bed next to me. "I think it's time for you to find out what will happen if you don't keep your mouth shut."

"Please, Dad. I don't want to do this anymore."

"Of course you do. Otherwise, why would you have been coming on to me?"

His outrageous allegation left me speechless.

An ugly sneer spread across his lips. "I thought so. Now, let's think of a good punishment." This head tilted slightly. "I know. Get on your knees."

"Please." My eyes filled with tears. He had taken me once in this position before and it had been the most degrading thing on top of the incredible pain.

"You should have thought of that before you opened your big mouth." Two fingers caught my chin and forced me to look at him. "As long as you live under my roof, you're mine, Patrice. I won't allow disobedience, and I won't allow for another man to touch you. Now, be a good girl and do what you're told."

His eyes were dark as he watched me. There was no doubt, he was close to lashing out if I didn't give into his demands. As I got on my knees, I heard the condom pack tear before he pushed inside me. Throbbing pain mixed with humiliation when his fingers entangled in my hair and he pushed my head down into the pillow. Total domination as he found his rhythm. My tears were caught by the pillow which muffled my yelps, his trusts raw and carnal until a throaty groan signaled his release. When he pulled out, my insides were throbbing.

He rolled me on my back. "Now let me show you your rewards when you play by my rules."

His hand caressed the insides of my thighs before pushing them apart. He gazed down, his tongue running over his lips.

"You are so beautiful, Patrice."

I was frozen in shock, terrified that he will hurt me again if I only twitched a muscle. When his tongue ran through my heat, I exhaled in utter surprise. Tingling spread through my crotch as his tongue circled my clit. I wiggled away to get him to stop, but his hands enclosed my hips and lifted me back in the right position.

"Marcus, stop."

His sucking lips were his only reply. I tried to push him away, but his grip around my hips held me in place. A shudder ran through me and my head tilted back. This felt good. Too good.

"Marcus, stop." The words were filled with panic and I wiggled harder to throw him off.

His tongue was relentless and the tip of his finger teased my opening. Unable to control my body, I arched my hips into his kiss. My mind tried to fight my growing need for his touch, but every muscle seemed to have developed a mind of their own. The lust was building and I moaned in pleasure. Was this how sex was supposed to feel like? I didn't want to like it, not with him. What was wrong with me?

Fresh tears ran down my cheeks as quivers ran through me, my self-loathing burning. I was weak, not even strong enough to control my lust. The sobs turned into moans before my body unraveled in a new wave of shivers.

He smiled when he gazed at me, my arousal still clinging to his lips. "I knew you were just like any other bitch. Don't be afraid to admit that you want me just as much as I want you."

I tried to deny it, but the confusion muted me. Why did my body like this? Why didn't I just fight him off? The degrading feeling reached a new level when the smile on his face turned smug. My body proved him right and there was no way he would ever ease up now.

More tears pooled my eyes when I realized that this was my fault. Maybe I did come on to him. If this was truly rape, I could have never enjoyed his touch.

"Your mother is passed out, so I'll spend the night with you." His lips crushed down on me, his tongue demanding access. Drenched of all energy, I didn't even struggle. This was my new reality.

~~~~

He left early in the morning after I slept in his tight embrace. When I awoke, I was still sore, confused, and spent. After taking a long shower and scrubbing my skin until it almost bled, I ambled into the kitchen to find my mother seated at the counter. She looked like she had had an even rougher night than I did.

With bloodshot eyes, she watched me as I fixed myself a toast, though I wasn't really hungry. The stench of leftover alcohol was oozing from her and increased the nausea that cramped my stomach.

"So, did your father talk to you?"

I bit back a snarky reply. Marcus wasn't my dad any longer—that status was lost when he did what no man should do to a woman.

"Yeah, he talked to me."

"And?"

I slammed the plate down hard but didn't turn around, so she wouldn't notice my tears. "I'm sorry I lied. Of course, Dad would never to that."

"So, you admit it's not true?"

I bit my shivering lip. "Yes."

She sighed. "I really don't know what's going on with you, girl. I'm glad your father is dealing with it, because I just can't handle you." Her voice was tired. "I've decided to go alone with Alyssa and Lamar to Cape Cod. You can stay here in Chicago. I'm sure not going to have you spoil my summer vacation."

The lump in my throat grew out of proportion. "So you're just leaving me here?"

"Your dad's here. I'm sure you two will make up in no time. Hell, if you apologize enough, he might even lift your punishment."

That would give me a month alone in the house with Marcus. The thought was enough to make my stomach heave. Without even gazing at my mom, I dashed out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind me. I would never tell anyone again—I mean, what was the point? If my own mother already thought I was lying, who would ever believe me?

Tough chapter which will lay the foundation for the remainder of the story. Patrice is in a very dark place because she has started what many victims of abuse go through -- she is blaming herself. Things will spiral downhill from here as she withdraws more and more until she shuts everyone out.

Next week, we will jump again two years to the point where this story started. After this next chapter, the plot will link with Living With The Choices We Make and you will meet Rena through Patrice's eyes. 

Hope you are still hanging in there and please share your thoughts or rant and rage. Don't forget the little star if this chapter deserved it, it's a huge motivator for any author. Thanks for reading :)