"How can this be
possible!?" Erica raged. Jackson stood in front of her, his head
hanging. He felt horrible. He hadn't done his job. The man who had
raped his 19 year-old niece, soon to be stepdaughter, was walking
free. "How can he put an innocent child through that!?"
"I
don't know, honey." Was all he could say. He sank into a chair
in her apartment.
He could feel the air still in the room. Erica
felt her heart about to explode, and then freeze within her
chest.
"He deserves death."
Jackson looked up. He,
for one, felt the same way. He would never voice it. Erica stood
there like marble. A perfect statue. Everything in her made cold. He
nodded slowly.
She almost laughed. "He did it just to get
back at Kendall and I. He did it to control Cambias Industries,
Enchantment, Chandler Enterprises, Fusion...All of it was for revenge
and to get a damn corporation."
She looked straight into
Jackson's eyes. He was almost scared at the anger he saw, though
not surprised.
"Only he would go this low."
At a time
like this, around Erica, it was best to stay quiet. All he could do
was nod.
Bianca felt her womb.
God, I hope I'm not pregnant. She couldn't imagine
carrying his child. He rapes me, and I get to have a 9 month long
reminder of his power over me. She looked around the hospital,
waiting for David. He did have that power over her. He had raped her
nearly a month ago, and she couldn't forget it. Every night, while
she slept, she remembered every horrid detail. She could remember his
angry words, his satisfied laughter. He had told her she wasn't
half bad.
"It's been a few years since I've been with
a virgin. Though, I've had much younger girls than you, Binks. The
difference between you and them was that they wanted it. They begged
and pleaded me to take advantage of them. You, I had to force. Why
did you make me force myself onto you? You could have accepted
it."
She had just laid there on the pullout bed, crying;
her clothes torn, her ego beaten. Her very self lost. I could have
accepted it. He was in her now. Always. She looked at the clock
in the hospital. David was late. She looked down at the all that was
unknown, at her womb. Her hand was clenched around it. That was what
Michael made her do. He made her want her innocence. He made her want
to steal it back. Kill for it to be back. She closed her eyes,
feeling a wave of exhaustion. Tears tickled her cheeks. She could
have accepted it. And that made her at fault.