❝ It's demons in my heart and I can feel 'em growing.❞

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"Mmm! You feel so good, Soul. I always wanted a taste of your dick. To feel it inside of me. I just needed to persuade you a little." The sickest bitch I ever came across moaned while she continued to take my dick from me and a little of my manhood.

She was in control. I couldn't move. I couldn't talk. I felt like I was paralyzed all over. I don't know how long this was going on, but when I woke up; there this bitch was on top of me riding my dick. I couldn't tell whether I was hard. I don't care that I'm a man. No bitch can get me hard. Only Cherish, and that's not me calling her a bitch; she's a Queen, and I treated her as such. I knew my body and nothing aside from one person got me off. I knew if I was hard, then it had to be an effect of the drugs or something else she gave me.

I tried to get her off me, but I was immobile. She laughed like her ass was crazy, and she definitely was. Laughing, saying, "I drugged you. You can't move, but I'm glad you're awake. I want you to watch me take the dick from you. I want you to watch my face as you nut in me, so I can have your baby."

I knew if I were to remember anything from this shit, I was killing her ass. I don't know what she drugged me with, but I felt trapped in my own mind and I know depending on the drug she used, it could affect my memory. I remember I was leaving the house and something was stuck in my neck. Waking up to this shit was a nightmare. The only thing I had that wasn't even useful at the moment was my mind. I never in my twenty-two years thought a bitch would rape me. Can a man even get raped? What would people think if they found out I was a weak motherfucker? What would Cherish think?

Fuck!

My baby, Cherish. What would the love of my life think of me? Part of me doesn't want her to know, but the other part can't keep this from her. As my fiancée—even when she was my girlfriend—I made a promise to always be truthful with her. I hadn't broken that promise yet. I need her. I need her to feel something is wrong and rush here. I always feel like we're connected on a deeper level like that. Our souls are connected beyond anything I ever experienced in life. Sometimes I knew things were wrong with her without her having to call and tell me. My soul would be uneasy. Restless. I'd come home and find her crying in the darkest corners of our house. How did I know? As I said, my soul knew. Surely, hers would know it too, right?

Where are you, baby?

I knew she went to look at a space for her first clothing store that she thinks I'ma let her pay for, but I'm not sure if she was still looking or had left. That's why I needed to know where she was. I needed her.

I never in the life I've lived so far felt less of a man. I was Soul Motherfucking Blackmon, believe me, that meant something—I'm someone of importance. Now? Well, I feel like a fraud. And this hoe... this hoe was smiling, biting her lip, moaning like I was dicking her down voluntarily. Type of sick shit was she on? That's when I heard it. So damn faint amid the moaning, but I heard it. Someone gasped. My baby. My heart. My everything. My Cherish. No matter how much I tried prior to her making it home, I couldn't for the life of me muster up one word.

"This is not how we wanted you to find out." This hoe had the nerve to smirk like I had a choice in this. I tried to move her, but I was still immobile.

The look on Cherish's face crushed me. She didn't come all the way into the room, but I still saw it. I swear on everything I love, I could drop a tear because I felt that heartbreak. I felt everything we share together shift. I felt her heart cracking and shattering right before me. I just wanted to pick up the pieces and put them back together because this wasn't what she thought. I needed her to see that something wasn't right. That I would never in this lifetime or the next cheat on her. She had to know that she's my world and without her; I'm nothing. We may be young, but the love I have for her was big. I never felt anything like what I share with her. She's my first girlfriend and my first love, but the fact remained that I've never felt even a fraction of what we share before I met her. She has to know her eyes are literally playing tricks on her. I needed her to look at me. To look into my eyes because then she'll know this is against my will. I had to. I had to muster up some strength to say something.

All I could get out were two words. One name. "C-Cherish, baby." That shit took so much out of me, but I had to. Not help. Not anything else, but her name. I needed her to hear in my voice that this shit wasn't right. It was the furthest thing from it.

But she ran. She fucking ran. I needed her at this moment more than she knew. I needed her to attempt to beat this bitch's ass or mine and maybe then she'll see I was drugged and being raped, but she ran. Taking a piece of my heart with her. One more try and I faintly called her name again, but it was so faint I don't think she heard it.

I didn't show it, but I was internally crying. For this fucked up position I'm in. For Cherish actually thinking I cheated. For her not even attempting to assess the situation. I gotta be honest. This feeling wasn't something I wanna be used to. Crying? Nah, that shit is weak. Just because I didn't drop any tears didn't mean I wasn't internally having a war with my emotions. I know once I tell Cherish the truth, all will be right with us, but will she still see me the same? Her man. The love of her life. Her everything. Her Fiancé and the father of our unborn baby. The man who will protect her with his last breath. Give up his life for hers. Will she still see me as that man? Or will she look at me differently because I was... I was raped. Would she even believe that's what was happening?

I passed out somewhere as she continued once Cherish had left. When I came to, she was gone, and I could move my limbs and body again.

Thinking about that day made my heart cave. I feel like I can't breathe. I can't fucking breathe. The black fog of depression clouds was surrounding me in its entirety, seeping through me and trying to turn my heart cold as ice. Because then; only then would I be numb to this. Tears of despair burn at my eyes, and I fight the emotion clogging my throat. That fucking therapy opened up some more shit I wanted to avoid dealing with.

I clutched the glass of dark liquor in my hand before standing up. Sliding the glass of the floor to ceiling door out of the way, I slipped outside hoping to fucking breathe. Maybe it's a mental thing; I don't know, but I can't. The darkness running through my veins was almost nearing my heart with a purpose. I feel nothing, but at the same time, I feel everything. Things I don't want to.

Part of me wishes I didn't open up to Cherish because her knowing the deepest and darkest details is why I'm struggling more and more with emotions I hadn't bothered with before. Telling her broke that small barrier I kept intact. It's not like things weren't like this since that happened to me. I was still drowning in depression, pills, and sometimes alcohol, but since I'd opened up to her; everything—my emotions—my mental state is next level. This is a nightmare. One I'm still trying to claw my way out of and to the surface in an attempt to break free from its hold.

I remember when I first told Truth. He was confused about what happened between Cherish and me. It wasn't his business, but everyone knew when I wasn't handling drug business or regular business, when Cherish wasn't at school or doing her own thing; she and I were joined at the hip. I loved being under her as much as she did. We were clingy like that, which was why I was making moves to leave the game I've been a part of since I was thirteen—nine years at the time, to be exact. Her being gone for two weeks had everyone formulating their assumptions, and they all landed on me cheating. Finally, Truth asked if I had.

How could I look a nigga who is like my brother in the eyes and tell him a bitch raped me? I don't give a fuck that it wasn't rough or anything; she took my dick against my will. I struggled. Struggled to get the words out. I never could say the word rape when it came to me. In my head, but never out loud. Not until I opened up to Cherish. I never used that word directly. So, I told Truth I was drugged and taken advantage of. I kept waiting for him to laugh in my face. To make a joke. To say I was lying. To say how the fuck, I, a man let a bitch rape him, but he didn't. Pussy could've been at my disposal if I wanted, so who would believe me? Truth didn't say anything though. His expression told me he thought what happened to me was fucked up, and that he was there for me, as he always will be. Then he asked if I wanted to get high. I knew then he was my brother for life.

Shooter was a different story. When he found out, which wasn't that long after Truth—he didn't laugh, crack jokes or anything either. He was always cracking jokes during serious situations, so I expected that time to be no different. I was wrong though. That was the first time I saw he was serious about something. He said, "Let's find that bitch and kill her. Fuck it, let's kill her whole family." My bonds with my bros differentiated. I'm closer with Truth, but when it comes to the savagery and ruthless side of me—Soul, Shooter spoke in the same language I did. So in his own way, him wanting to take her and her entire bloodline out was him saying he was there for me. But I never spoke to them about what happened after them learning the real story.

Everything after Cherish left the house that day, to that hoe leaving me naked, was a dark time. I laid there until the drugs fully wore off, and even then, I felt sluggish. It took hours just for my speech to return to normal. I was surprised I hadn't pissed on myself. I felt so low, and beyond weak. I couldn't even focus on the shit I went through because the moment I got to normal strength, I was more worried about my pregnant fiancée and her whereabouts, since her family wouldn't tell me.

I sent out every fucking soldier I had looking for her, and the fact she couldn't be found had me sleepless, worried, and on edge. I never meant to choke her outside the clinic, I never meant to say what I did. That shit ate me up on how I treated her. The one person in the world I never wanted to hurt, but I did. Both physically and mentally. Guilt had consumed me in the worst possible way. Especially knowing that I failed to protect her heart at that moment. I remember driving away and a fucking tear fell from my eyes. It was comical if you asked me. I was a savage and Cherish Ayanna Smith had me crying. I don't think she knew how much she broke my heart, but I knew I broke hers as well.

Marcus told me Cherish had moved away, but wouldn't tell me where. His loyalty was to his cousin even though he was becoming a friend, so I respected that. But it crushed a nigga to hear she was gone. Those close to me finally knew the truth of what happened to me, which was why I was informed of that piece of information. I didn't have to tell anyone shit. That was my personal and private business, but I couldn't have them thinking I cheated on her. They felt sorry for me, and that's one reason I didn't want to tell them. There was no talking Cherish into coming back though. She's so fucking stubborn that she'd rather suffer than admit the alternative.

Without Cherish, I only had half my mind, half my heart, half my soul. Without Cherish, I wasn't myself and everyone noticed. I was incomplete without her. My heart ached for her—physically fucking ached, and that's something I never experienced. I remember the first few weeks she left. I would lie awake at night clutching my chest, feeling like I was drowning in the depths of my misery, gasping for air only she could give me. Struggling with the idea of weakness to the highest extent. She held so much power over me—my heart—my soul; my entire being. An invisible, but felt physical chokehold I couldn't escape. I wanted to laugh because, as sick and twisted as it sounds, I could dismantle a nigga and go home and sleep like that was normal. Yet, one woman, the love of my life, can bring me to my knees without trying.

I had proof of what happened to me since I had the Doctor who was on payroll check me out and Truth made sure Cherish knew it. Truth made sure she knew I was drugged and my actions, she thought I was partaking in, weren't willfully. That day outside the client was the worst, but I thought she would at least come back so we can work things out. But she left me. At a time I needed her the most; she fucking left. Didn't check on me or shit. I was bitter. Heartbroken. Lost. And depressed. Which wasn't a good combination at all. I was grieving a baby that wasn't fully developed yet, but had fallen in love with. I couldn't wait to be a father and thinking—at the time, she got an abortion broke something deeper inside me. I was still willing to give us a chance, but days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Shit was extremely dark for me.

My family, her family, and my friends assumed it was because of Cherish, but it was because of everything. When she called me six months after being gone, I said nothing the first time. Held my phone, listening to my name spoken in the softest voice that constricted my heart, then I hung up. The next time she called—weeks later, things were still dark, and I was still bitter, so I said hurtful shit, went off on her and regretted it. Knowing that she left—knew the truth about what happened to me and stayed gone had my head fucked up and my heart cold. Every single moment since she and I became close, I was there whenever she needed me, so it was kind of fucked up the one time I needed her most she bailed and never looked back until almost seven years later.

She had my head so gone. I knew from the moment I fell for her stubborn ass—when I felt my world shake, then crack open from impact—that I was in trouble. Everything with Cherish happened too fast. I wouldn't change a moment of it though. Cherish struggled a lot. She ran when things got real. Tried to push me away in every direction, I tried to hold her close. Any other nigga would've been bailed because she was a person who felt like she didn't deserve to be happy or loved at full capacity, which is why she always wanted to run. She made it hard to love her, but that only made me show her how much I did and wasn't going anywhere.

She was definitely a puzzle I wanted to solve. She was a storm. A beautiful fucking storm I had jumped into headfirst. There was no way of escaping her once I was in too deep. I didn't want to escape. I wanted to stay locked inside forever. That's how much I loved her. That's how much I still love her. Cherish still is a storm. One that could destroy me and my heart, and I'd let her.

The very heart she had broken still loved her with every piece. I couldn't get over her. I couldn't stop loving her. Loving someone as much as I love her wasn't healthy for many reasons. See, Cherish really can do no wrong in my eyes. I should've been way more pissed at her for keeping my daughter a secret, but I caved. I couldn't stay mad at her for long. With the whole Von situation, I treated her like she barely existed, but when in close proximity I couldn't help but touch her and be all in her space. She does wrong, but can do no wrong with me. No matter what, my anger always disappears quicker than it should.

This drink in my hand had to be the fifth one since I made my way out of Cherish's room. Just needing to be around her and feel her presence up close. I rubbed her stomach, watched as she sighed softly from contact, as if she knew I was touching her. My fingers tracing the structure of her face to the outline of her lips. I felt soft as hell watching her sleep and a little like a creep, but I couldn't bring myself to stop. I felt it. Calm. Peace. Just from physically touching her. She was giving me calm these days when there was only chaos heading for destruction.

The moonlight coming through the floor to ceiling window gave her an angelic glow, and even in her sleep, she was beautiful. I took in her soft skin, her almond-shaped eyes, the bow shape and the perfect pout of her lips while she slept. I wanted to respect what she wanted, so I left after a while.