Casanova, p.11
Casanova, page 11
“Please, that’s just a line men use to get into women’s pants. All men care, and all men would prefer that the woman they planned to wife-up be a virgin. Or at the very least not be a whore with some ridiculously high number. In almost all relationships once the guy falls in love he inevitably starts to ask questions like, ‘How big was the other guy?’, ‘What did the two of you do?’, ‘How many times?’, ‘How many men?’. What also happens is sometimes you have these guys that marry a stripper or a prostitute, and again, it’s all well and good that she does what she was doing up until he falls in love. See, once he falls in love for real, he’ll want her to quit, he’ll get upset and behave like a child when she goes to work or takes a call. But it’s not just the man, though. Even the woman – she’d be a prostitute but want her man to be faithful and not have sex with anyone else, but make excuses for herself because what she does is work and can’t be considered cheating. Why do we do these things? Why be exclusive? Would we even need to ask those questions at all if we all just waited? But we lie to ourselves because it’s hard to remain chaste. We want to mess around with lots of different people, but we also want to be monogamous. Those two desires are in direct conflict with each other. Monogamy doesn’t understand time. It’s like a feeling, so if you had a man in the past, it affects the person you’re currently with even into the future. Of course there’ll be exceptions and caveats but by and large, that’s the truth.”
After his monologue, there was a dip in the conversation as Jinx tried to process everything he had said. She looked unsure but then her eyebrows shot up and she frowned.
“Oh my God, wait! Are you saying you don’t want me now? Is this like, your way of letting me down gently?” she pouted.
Casanova just looked at her and smiled.
“You’re such a woman, always so paranoid and always thinking the worst.”
He paused for a moment, then said, “Do you know why me and Malcom are enemies?”
“Is he the one your wife cheated on you with?”
“No, that’s not it exactly,” he half-laughed, half-sighed at the way Jinx had pieced together her own conclusion. “I guess I’ll have to tell you about my marriage, huh. God, I hate this story.”
16
The Bitch
I was taken into the GTF agent programme at a much older age than was the usual. I was already thirteen when my mother gave me up to the agency. She had just gotten pregnant with her fifth child and simply couldn’t handle another. Plus, she needed the money. Something had to give and that something was me. After my initial training, I was placed into Malcom's group. It just so happened that he was one of the youngest members to ever join the programme. He’d never even seen his mother. Like a lot of guys there, his mother had given him up at birth. The difference with Malcom though, was that he was just a foetus. His mother had already aborted so many kids throughout her life, but once it was Malcom’s turn she realised that just flushing him down the toilet would be a waste when she could make a quick buck off his head. So little Malcom completed his development in an artificial womb. I don’t know what they did to him after that, or if not developing in the warmth of a natural body had an effect on him, but his augmentations were extensive. His ability to adapt to anything had essentially made him a monster.
I had been placed in his squad for field training so he was my team leader. Before we went on to the second part of our training, which was low level field work to learn how to use and develop our abilities, we were all given a break period to cool off. Malcom took all the guys in his squad off base to the local club. That’s where I met her. My first true love: Riley.
Riley and I were like a matching set – she liked what I liked, shared my views and morals, was caring, fun, and outgoing. She made me feel special. It was as though she was perfect. Most importantly we held similar views on marriage.
I was still a virgin and I strongly believed in the whole ‘no sex before marriage’ thing. It was mainly the influence of that silly religion Ma had gotten me caught up in. How convenient that she found God after acquiring yet another STD. She had already burned through most of the money she got from selling me off, and when I came back into her life, she actually managed to convince me that it had all been part of God’s plan. That it was God who had moved her to sell me off so that I could come back one day to provide for the family. Of course, like a fool, I ate it up. It was only later that I came to my senses and questioned her logic. Why would God help you when you were doing everything he said not to do? He would help you by giving you advice, but he never once said ‘sleep around with tons of men’. How could you, after disobeying, think he had anything to do with it?
Back then I was like a preacher, talking about how the only way for a relationship to work was if you started as a virgin and married and all that crap. And my Riley could not agree more; said she was waiting on marriage to have sex as well. I thought we were so compatible. Riley and I started texting everyday back and forth like dumb kids. Then maybe about three months in, I told her I loved her. Unsurprisingly, she returned my feelings.
I felt like the happiest man alive. We immediately started making plans for me to come visit her during my next break.
Once I got on break I went out to meet her. But when I knocked on her door, a child answered. I was confused but asked for Riley thinking that it was her younger brother.
“Mom!” he called.
I sort of froze. She came to the door but I stood there just staring at her at first.
I laughed nervously. “Who’s that kid?”
“He’s my son.”
I tried not to show how shocked I really was. Then I asked a follow up.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to wait ’til marriage to have sex?”
“Well, yeah but that doesn’t mean that I’ve never had sex before,” she paused and bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I should have told you straight up. The truth is I have two kids but –”
I began to walk away.
I heard her footsteps hurrying down the front steps and she crashed into my back. She might have been crying.
“Dante, I’m sorry! Please! I was just so afraid to tell you because I didn’t want to lose you! I knew you were a good guy the moment we met, but if I had told you, it would probably have scared you off before you even got to know me. I swear, I’m not the same girl as I was back then!” she sobbed. “I had a bad childhood and my father and brothers used to abuse me so I was always a little messed up and vulnerable. I’ll admit that I made some mistakes before but I’ve been hurt and used too much – I’m over it. I really do believe in the sanctity of marriage and even though I’m not a virgin I am against extramarital sex. Please, don’t go, Dante!”
That’s what she said and what I heard. But what she really meant, and what I couldn’t hear at the time, was that she had spent most of her good years having sex with almost any guy that smiled at her. Just having a little youthful fun. What she really meant was now that she had been run through over and over again she wanted a good guy, a chump, to commit to her used up goods. The nerve of some people.
After you’ve given out free rides to every bad boy on the block, the good guy, the one you supposedly love, has to pay the full price.
But of course, back then I didn’t see things for what they were. All I saw was this innocent girl who needed help – a damsel in distress much like my own mother – and I wanted to be the prince charming that saved her. In some ways, one could argue that her having children actually made me want her more.
Later on in the visit when we were alone we started to fool around and before I knew it we were having sex. It was my first time and I remember how strange it was because I could hear her kids playing a game outside while she was moaning and groaning on my shaft. Despite that, I felt like such a man and she made me feel so good. I was hooked, and soon after that we got married.
I would return to base for work and on breaks I would go home to her and the kids. It all seemed to be going smoothly. Then one day while I was on base, I got an urgent call from my commander.
Riley was in the hospital.
I immediately took some leave and went to see her. I got there just as she was being released. She told me that she had suffered a nervous breakdown because of how lonely she was when I went away and how she needed me so much. So we went home and we did it for four days straight, which was as long as I could stay until my leave was up. The whole time I was there, I could not keep her off me. I had never seen her so ravenous. Once I went back to work I kept thinking about what she had said and it made me feel awful. I wanted to be there for her to fulfil her needs. A few days later, she gave me a call and broke the news.
She was pregnant.
That tipped me over the edge. I asked my superiors to be placed closer to her home world and fortunately they allowed it. I thought it was God intervening again. Now I could be there for my family.
By that time I was a fully-fledged agent working out in the field on my own, but my powers had still not quite yet matured. I could read people’s minds but I had to first possess their bodies and that took a lot of concentration.
I wanted to surprise her, let her know that I was close by now. So one day I just showed up at the house. When I got inside, the kids looked shocked to see me. That wasn’t surprising. I hadn’t told anyone I was coming. I walked quietly up the stairs to call Riley and tell her the good news. My stomach turned over as soon as I pushed the door to our room. There she was, my wife, getting pounded by some strange guy in our bed.
At first I didn’t know what to do. It was like an out of body experience.
“What the hell is this, Riley? What’s going on?”
She pulled on the covers and the guy jumped up and ran out past me.
I was devastated. My voice shook slightly.
“Why would you do this to me? I thought –”
That’s when she turned on me, her voice raised defiantly. “You’re never around, Dante! I’m lonely, okay.”
After that, I threatened to leave. And I did for a bit, but Riley kept calling me and apologising. Truth be told, I still loved my wife. Not to mention, I had the kids to think about and my own child, Samantha.
I went back.
And it happened again.
And again.
Always the same guy, always the same excuses. I became paranoid and in my frustration I was constantly checking her phone, keeping a close eye on our bank accounts, and trying to come home as frequently as possible. I was wearing myself thin trying to please her and stay on top of everything. The one thing I never did was use my power on her. I convinced myself that it was because she deserved her privacy, after all to invade someone’s mind is a major breach of trust. Looking back on it though, I was probably just afraid to know the truth.
The truth that she just did not love me and probably never did.
After going on like this for a while she insisted on a separation to clear her head and find herself. She said that she needed time to focus on herself, on her own needs. I couldn’t understand what I was doing wrong. I thought I was doing my best. So I was kicked out, but I continued to give her money to support all the kids. The few times I was not on base, I had to live out of a car. I thought it would all work out; I called her every night and she was seeing a therapist so I thought things would get better. God would work it out like my Ma always said.
At work the other guys all made fun of me, calling me cucked and telling me I secretly liked it. I was a laughing stock. For a long time I struggled with issues of self-worth. Eventually my abilities evolved to the point that I began hearing the thoughts of anyone within range. It was only then that I noticed that it wasn’t just me. It was everyone. After all that time thinking I was the only one having problems with women, it was a relief to realise that almost all the guys had something going on. Some had a girl who was cheating but chose to look the other way, thinking they couldn’t get anyone better. Some were addicted to prostitutes and they felt dead inside. Some others were just lonely but too afraid to connect with anyone.
Unlike the others who kept their issues to themselves, I needed someone to confide in. Anyone, just to talk. It came down to Malcom, the only guy at work who didn’t make fun of me. And he actually listened – no matter how many times I came to him with my problems. There were times when I would tell him the same story more than once, but nevertheless he would listen to me patiently. That was how we became friends. That, and he was also one of the only persons whose thoughts I could not hear. At first I could but his mind quickly adapted to block me out. He was the only friend I had.
Around the time of my fifth anniversary, Malcom came around asking what I was going to do about it.
“Not sure. We’re still separated. But we’ve made a lot of progress over the separation period,” I told him. “She opened up to me a lot more, but she said that my insecurities were stifling her and she was feeling trapped. She’s been going through a depression since having to leave the guy that was the father to her first set of kids. I don’t know, I just don’t want to rock the boat right now.”
Malcom shook his head and insisted that we go visit her.
“You should buy her roses and pass by. It’s your anniversary, man, don’t waste the opportunity to show her how you feel.”
So I took the advice. I made sure to call and ask her first if I could come over. After getting the go-ahead from Riley, Malcom offered to come along.
Although I found it a little strange, I appreciated the support since I had been dumping all my problems on him and he was my best friend.
About midday, we pulled up to the house and I walked in.
“Hey guys!” I said, waving to the kids.
No one responded. They didn’t even acknowledge my presence, just kept playing their video games. For the first time I could, albeit unintentionally, hear their thoughts.
‘God, why is this loser here?’
‘How is he such a dumbass?’
‘This idiot nigger’s back.’
Hearing the way they thought about me was tough, but they were just kids so I made excuses for them. Things like, they just needed time or they didn’t really understand what they were saying.
I headed upstairs, a little hurt but not discouraged. I heard low voices coming from the bedroom so I knocked on the door. It swung open and the same guy as usual walked out. It was a surreal experience. I just stood there in shock as he walked past and I could hear him thinking, ‘Oh hell no. This crazy hoe knew this simp was coming and got me caught up in this shit again.’
Riley came to the door and stood in front of me.
Then, she said point blank, “I want a divorce.”
In the following seconds we spiralled into a huge argument and I saw a side of her that I’d never seen before.
By that point I could hear everything she was thinking so that nothing she said while we fought came as a surprise. It was the usual stuff whorish women said to get under a man’s skin.
“You’re a pathetic loser. You’re not worth shit.”
“You don’t even know how to use your dick; you could never really please me like a real man could.”
“Makes me sick just thinking about you.”
The whole tried and true list, and she just kept pouring it on. Then she said something in her mind that hit me like a truck. That’s when I knew just how bad it was.
‘I hope he finally kills himself.’
I couldn’t take it anymore.
I started to cry.
“Ugh! Don’t be a bitch, Dante!” she said, getting even more upset.
I opened my mouth to respond but a gunshot pealed out downstairs. We both jumped and her eyes went wide with fear and confusion.
“What was that?” she whispered.
I bolted down the stairs, leaving her behind.
As I hit the bottom, I saw Malcom standing at the centre of the living room, cocking his shotgun. My eyes quickly took in the limp bodies of Lacy and Jeb, Riley’s first two kids.
Malcom pointed the gun at Sam.
“Malcom!” I cried, lunging at him.
The shot rang out, sending her tiny body flying through a window. At that moment Riley came down the steps. She ran over to her dead children, screaming. I grabbed Malcom’s arm, tears blurring my vision, and we got into a struggle for the gun. He let me have it, not holding back with his blows.
“Don’t worry – I don’t need it for this whore,” he said.
Pushing me out of the way, he grabbed Riley by her hair with one hand and lifted her high off the floor. There was pure terror on her face as she looked into Malcom’s eyes.
“Stop! Put her down, or else!” I yelled, as I pointed the gun at his head.
He only looked at me blankly, then turned away again before starting to pound her head in with his fist. I had no choice. I had to save the woman I loved, for better or worse. So I offloaded the gun on him and he dropped her.
But that was about all it did.
His head began to regenerate and the reformed skin became like steel. It seemed as if he had only paused momentarily before he went to the floor to resume the beating. I tried to pull him off, but the more I tried the more he strengthened.
It was like watching a horror movie. Riley’s face was an unrecognisable, bloody mess. And I was powerless to stop it. The only thing I could think to do was to possess Malcom’s mind. At that point, I didn’t care that it was against GTF policy to use one’s power on a fellow comrade. I jumped into his body and assumed control. Right away I could tell that his mind was different. It felt as if I had dived into an acid bath. Malcom’s mind had sensed my invasion and was already adapting to shut me out. I knew I didn’t have much time.
“Run, Riley! Go now!” I shouted, holding off his fists.
That was all I could manage. She was so beaten and dazed that she could barely get to her feet, and I felt my heart surge as I watched her struggle upright and stagger outside. I fought with Malcom to retain control of his body as I watched her go. Out of nowhere, I felt a wave of optimism pass through his mind. Snippets of a memory began flickering within his head and I felt my heart drop again as I saw images of Malcom preparing his assault.
