She opens up

“I'm so embarrassed, Mr. P.” She begins, and I'm expecting to hear some crap about how they are going to be married, so it is OK for him to fuck her. Boy did I get that wrong. “Richard discovered my secret. He takes what he wants - and I let him.”

“He forces you!?” My outrage is a little hypocritical considering our recent sex, but I was ready to smash the smug bastards face in with a two-by-four.

“No! it's not like that.” Alison is quick to jump to Dick's defense, “Well, kinda, but it's complicated.”

“Honey, you're going to have to explain.” For the moment I am more concerned about what is going on in Alison's dysfunctional relationship than I am in getting into her pants. “How did a sweet thing like you ever end up with someone like him?” Once again, I think I've gone too far, she pulls away and covers her face with her hands.

“The first time was last spring.” Alison starts hesitantly, “I just got into a fight with my parents, I wanted to stay here in Connecticut over the summer - I had an internship lined up and everything - but my dad said I needed to come back home and work in his garage.” She pauses to wipe the smudges from her eyes and then takes a deep breath and continues in a rush. “My roommate talked me into going to a party, and there was this band playing in the basement. Richard was the guitarist and he looked so bad with his tattoos and leather vest. I wished I could just tell the world to fuck off like he was.”

“I guess he noticed me staring at him because after the second set he came over and...” She stumbles to a halting stop looking up at me for some kind of understanding. When I smile and nod she tries to explain.

“I thought he was going to introduce himself, but he just pushed me against the wall and kissed me. Not a nice kiss like yours, Mr. P. He tasted like beer and sweat and his tongue...” Alison's eyes are starting to tear up again, “I'd never been French kissed before, and I was so shocked I just let him kiss and grope me in that dark basement. I remember thinking that my dad would have a conniption if he knew what I was doing.” The whole thing is starting to make a little more sense, but Alison still has more to say so I keep my mouth shut and listen to her as she explains how she let Dick lead her up to an empty bedroom and pulled her down with him onto the bed.

“Didn't you stop him?” I ask both angry at Dick and marveling at how lucky that bastard got when he dragged this naïve small-town girl onto that bed.

“I tried to; I swear Mr. P!” She whispered, “I struggled and told him 'No', but he just kept going. Then he got my jeans off and next thing I knew he was inside me.” Her eyes drop in shame. “He didn't even know I was a virgin.” Her hands were shaking in mine, but she is determined to get it all out. “When he saw the blood on the sheets, he thought I was on my period and got mad at me for messing up the bedding.” With a sniff she pulls her hands free from mine and covers her face again. “That was how I lost my most precious gift, Mr. P. To some guy who didn't even know my name or what he did.”

“It wasn't your fault, Angel.” I tell her,

“Wasn't it Mr. P? I went to the party, and I let him take me to the bedroom, didn't I?” She asks bitterly, “And once he put his thing inside me, I didn't even fight him. I just lay there crying and let him fuck me. It hurt, Mr. P, it hurt so bad, but I got excited by it too.”

“That doesn't change what happened, Honey.” I do my best to correct this dangerous self-hate. “Why do you put up with him?” She sniffs again and pulls her hands away so she can look me in the face.

“He found out where I lived, and he just started showing up.” She sniffs softly and tightens even more in my arms. “I make him wear condoms, but other than that he does what he wants.”

“You don't have to make love to him, Angel.” I tell her softly, “Not if you don't want to.”

“We don't make love, Mr. P, not like you think.” Alison's words come out in soft gasps, but I can understand enough of what she's saying. “I get so tense that he has to **** my legs apart, and then he fucks me.” I've never heard my young tenant use that word, but it seems appropriate. “When he's done, I just lie there, Mr. P. I can barely move.” That might explain why Dick doesn't stick around, but it makes me want to punch him more than ever; Alison however is still talking, and she deserves my undivided attention.

“My mother told me that on my wedding night, my husband would lie with me like that and that that painful moment of union would bind me to him forever.” Alison shakes her head sadly. “I keep thinking - don't laugh at me, Mr. P - I keep thinking that maybe if Richard and I get married, then everything will be alright again.” I try to say something, but before I can put words together in a meaningful way Alison says it for me. “It's nonsense, Mr. P. I know that, but when he comes by, I can pretend that I'm not a sinful whore.”

“You're not a whore, Alison.”

“Aren't I?” She asks pointedly, “Didn't you ask me to sleep with you in exchange for my rent?” What can I say? She's right. Alison takes a deep breath, and then seems to come to some internal decision.