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"But they didn't ruin you, Evie. Cause here you are. Our special Evie. And you can let all that old shit float away."He sat back on the mattress with the dirty soles of his bare feet on the fur coat, a strange calm in his face. He would wait as long as it took.I don't remember what I said at that point, just that I chattered nervously. School, Connie, the hollow nonsense of a young girl. My gaze slid around the trailer, fingers nipping at the fabric of Suzanne's dress. Eyes coursing the fleur-de-lis pattern of the filthy bedspread. I remember that Russell smiled, patiently, waiting for me to lose energy. And I did. The trailer silent except for my own breathing and Russell shifting on the mattress."I can help you," he said. "But you have to want it."His eyes fixed on mine."Do you want it, Evie?"The words slit with scientific desire."You'll like this," Russell murmured. Opening his arms to me. "Come here."I edged toward him, sitting on the mattress. Struggling to complete the full circuit of comprehension. I knew it was coming, but it still surprised me. How he took down his pants, exposing his short, hairy legs, his penis in his fist. The hesitant catch in my gaze—he watched me watching him."Look at me," he said. His voice was smooth, even while his hand worked furiously. "Evie," he said, "Evie."The undercooked look of his dick, clutched in his hand: I wondered where Suzanne was. My throat tightened.
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