I snort, but tears stain the pillow. "A legacy of what? Coke head? Passed around sex toy? Musician with a blown out voice by the time she's forty?"
He tugs me closer to him. "No, my Little Diva. Your legacy is inspiring millions. You spread joy and hope. At times it's a little sad, but even in those moments, your brightness shines through. And anyone who's ever heard you sing or seen you perform can't forget it. If you never utter another note again, the world will always remember you. And no one knows what you struggle with, but even if they did, that's not what they would remember. Because it doesn't define you, it's only part of your story."
"I don't want it to be a part of my story."
"Me either. But it is. And you're strong."
"No I'm not. You know I'm not."
"Well, that's not true."
I cry out, "Don't tell me I'm strong. They held me down, and I couldn't move. I finally couldn't hold my breath anymore and had to inhale. It only took one snort. One. And then the men...oh God...I tried to fight them at first. I did. But I...I just stopped. It was easier and quicker if I let them take what they wanted. I wasn't strong enough...I...I..." All the shame I've tried to fight rears its ugly head.
Dirk holds my head into his chest. "That isn't your fault. You did what you had to in order to survive. That doesn't make you weak."
"It does," I sob.
"No. That's not true. You can't expect to physically escape men who are double your size or multiple people who restrain you. But you have mental strength. If you didn't, you wouldn't have been so concerned about the medication in the first aid kit, or willing to pass up alcohol even though you were never into it."
"It's not coke," I blurt out.
He freezes.
"I still want it at times. It doesn't go away. A year has passed, and it still doesn't go away."
He tilts my head up. "You're fighting it. Second by second, when the craving pops up. You're beating it."
"I've not been around it to have a choice."
"And you will know how to resist it if you're ever in that situation again."
"You make it sound easy, but you don't know what this is like."
He strokes my hair. "You're right. I don't. But I believe in you, and I see how much you don't want to go back to using."
"They're going to find me. I...I can't go back to them."
He cups both my cheeks. "I won't let anything happen to you."
"I don't want them to use me again. I can't...I just can't..." I sob uncontrollably.
Dirk circles his arms around me again. "Shhh. They won't ever touch you again."
"They will. I...I need to know how to defend myself."
"They won't," he sternly says.
He can teach me. He knows how to kill.
I lean out of his embrace and beg, "Please help me."
"I won't let—"
"That's not what I mean."
"What—"
"How do I kill them? If they touch me again? Teach me how to kill them."
"Zoe, they aren't coming near you ever again."
"You don't know that!" I cry out. "Please. You can show me how to protect myself."
He stays silent.
I misinterpret his silence, and paranoia sets in. "Are you part of them? Oh God. You are, aren't you? Interpol...oh God." I cover my hand to my mouth, and my stomach twists.
"What? No. Zoe! How could you think that?"
"Then why won't you show me?"
"You're not going back to them. I don't want you worrying about something that isn't going to happen."
I scoot to the other side of the bed and get out. "So, you won't train me?"
"You aren't a killer. There are consequences to killing people. It's another demon in itself."
"So you would rather I let them do whatever they want with me?"
He rises. "No. Of course not. But things can go wrong. You could end up killing yourself."
"I don't care. I would rather be dead than have them touch me."
He steps toward me, and I retreat to the wall. "I don't want any of those bastards touching you, nor do I want you dead."
"Then show me how to defend myself. Please."
He stands so close his body touches mine. "Is this what you need from me?"
"Yes. Please. I won't ask for anything else. Just...I...please," I cry again.
He tugs me to him. "Okay. I will show you."
I weep in his arms.
After time passes, he murmurs, "You need sleep, my Little Diva." He guides me