Rules

by Doe, Anna B.

  “You thought you could run from me, little girl?”

  Those glassy eyes meet mine, and my whole body goes numb when I see that gleam in them. I’ve seen it so many times, I know what’s coming next.

  Tears burn my eyes as I try to fight it. Fight him. But he’s strong. Too strong. He always is.

  “There is no escaping me.” His grin grows wider as he pushes me back. I can feel something behind my knees, and before I know it, I’m falling down. My back hits something hard—a mattress—and my whole body jumps from the impact.

  I look around. Dark room. Cheesy Minnie Mouse bedsheets. White bunny left forgotten on the edge of the mattress. Mr. Loopy.

  No, this can’t be happening.

  A scared whimper breaks off my lips. He chuckles, one knee meeting the mattress, forcing my thighs to open wider as he settles between my legs. My skinny, covered-with-worn-pink-pajamas legs.

  I try to move away, shaking my head no.

  No, no, no, no…

  But he doesn’t listen; he never listens. I knock Mr. Loopy off the bed in my haste to get away from him, and just when I’m about to fall too, his hand wraps around my ankle, pulling me closer.

  His big body falls over mine, crushing me to the mattress. He’s so heavy there is no way I can move with his weight squishing me down. His warm breath tickles my skin, making my hair stand, as my stomach rolls uncomfortably. I can smell alcohol and cigarettes on his stained breath, and I know I’ll throw up. I always do.

  This isn’t real. This can’t be real.

  Bile rises in my throat as his face comes closer to mine. I try to avert my head, but he doesn’t let me. His meaty lips touch mine, and the tears burning my eyes fall down as I push him away.

  Make it stop.

  I manage to wiggle to my side just before I start to vomit over the edge of the bed. When I empty what little there is in my stomach, I rub the back of my hand over my mouth, closing my eyes hard. I can feel his anger radiate behind me, but even that doesn’t stop his crazy obsession. His desire. I know because I can feel it, pressed against my behind. A new wave of nausea washes over me along with helplessness.

  Let me go… Please, let me go.

  His hand wraps around my hair, pulling my head back, his lips pressing against my ear.

  “What did I tell you about that?” He pulls harder, bringing more tears to my eyes and making my head throb with pain. “You’ll pay for that.”

  My heart speeds up at the unmistakable promise in his furious voice. He’s whispering against my ear, and I learned a long time ago that this is when he’s the most dangerous. Unforgiving.

  His hand goes between my legs, ripping my pajamas down and pushing them away.

  The realization of what he’s about to do is instant.

  No, I beg. Please, don’t… please… stop!

  My whole body jolts awake, my hand flying to cover my mouth so I can hold in the scream. I sit up straight, crawling all the way back until my back presses against the cold wood of the headboard. Turning on the light, I look frantically around the room.

  Sanders’ house.

  You’re okay. You’re safe.

  But no matter how many times I chant those words, the fear doesn’t go away. I can feel the wetness on my cheeks, and I know I’m crying. I’ve been crying this whole time. Pulling my legs to my chest, I wrap my arms around them to stop my body from shaking.

  I don’t remember the last time memories of him hit me so bad. When the nightmares were so harsh I’d wake up crying and screaming. Not in years. But after last night… I run one of my shaky hands through my hair, trying to find some composure. But there isn’t any. Even with open eyes, the nightmare still haunts me. And today, there is no solace in the light.

  No hope.

  I look at the closed door, nibbling at my lower lip. The room feels like it’s closing in on me, so much that it’s hard to breathe.

  Stumbling off the bed, I tug at the collar of my shirt.

  I have to get out of here.

  But when I open the door and look into the dark hallway, it hits me. It’s the middle of the night, and I’m in an unfamiliar house. There is nowhere to go. Jeanette is sleeping, and it’s not like I can talk to her about any of this. She doesn’t know about my past, and I’m not about to pull her into the mess that is my life.

  I’ll be in my room if you need me.

  I can hear his raspy voice, like a whisper in my ear. A sense of calm dulls the overflowing panic that’s still running through my blood.

  Looking down the hallway to where his room is, I know this has disaster written all over it. I know I’ll most likely regret it when the sun rises, but right now I can’t be alone. I can feel his presence in the room, and I know there is no way I’ll be able to fall back asleep. Too afraid that if I close my eyes he’ll come back in my nightmares to haunt me. Too afraid that this time around I won’t find the way out and I’ll be stuck reliving my darkness over and over again.

  A shiver runs through my body. Swallowing hard, I take a step forward, and then another one until I’m standing in front of Max’s door.

  My fingers touch the cool wood as I weigh my options. But really, is there even an option? My palm sides down, fingers curling around the doorknob, and I open the door just enough to slide in.

  The room is dark, but I can see Max’s sleeping frame on the bed. Nearing closer, I see him lying on his stomach with his hand tucked underneath his pillow, hair mussed, lines of his face soft. I stand there and look at him, jealous of how peaceful he looks.

  Will I ever find this kind of peace?

  My hand reaches forward, lingering above him.

  What now, Brook? I close my eyes, my hand rubbing my face. Are you just going to stand here like a creep? Like…

  I curse under my breath, but it’s too late. The flashbacks are back. The memories I pushed back only seconds ago come back to the surface.

  I can feel somebody standing above me. I try to pretend I’m asleep, although I know it’s useless. He knows I’m awake. I stay still, my heart beating strongly against my chest to the point I think he can hear it too. He comes closer, his shadow falling over me. His hand grips my shoulder, making my whole body jerk as he pulls me toward him.

  “Brook,” Max rasps, softly sitting up. “Is everything okay?”

  His voice is soothing, but I’m stuck halfway between past and present not knowing how to get out. I look at him, but I don’t see him through my hazy gaze.

  I open my mouth but no words come out at first. With eyes glued to the spot over his shoulder, I wet my lips and try again.

  “H-he’s in there. When I close my eyes, I can see him.” I blink and can feel a tear slide down. “I-I c-can’t be a-alone.”

  When did I start crying again? I brush the tear away, but more follow. Maybe I never stopped.

  The bed creaks as Max gets up, a confused scowl between his brows. “Who’s there?”

  A strangled cry breaks out of my lungs as I shake my head no. There is no way I’m saying his name out loud. He’s like a deep, dark, dirty secret that I buried ages ago. I can’t say his name because if I do, there would be no going back. It would be like opening Pandora’s box. And I’m not ready to face it. Face him and all the ugly, painful memories that are associated with him. I’m not that strong, and I’m not sure I ever will be.

  Max comes closer slowly, like he’s nearing a wounded animal. I blink a few times, clearing my vision. His hands are curled into fists by his side, and I can see unease in his eyes.

  What the hell am I doing? Why am I here? Max doesn’t need shit like this in his life. He doesn’t need me holding him back.

  “T-this was a bad idea,” I stutter out, wiping away my tears. “I should go.”

  I turn around but don’t get far, because his hands are on me, pulling me back into him. My back to his chest, his big arms wrap around me, and for the first time in what feels like forever, my body breathes in relief. That’s all it takes. Just one touc
h from him and I’m a melted mess.

  “Don’t leave,” Max whispers in my ear, his hot breath touching my earlobe. My nerves react to his closeness, soft, warm tingles spreading through my body. I lean into his touch, my hands curling over his and holding on for dear life.

  I should go; I know I should. I have no business here, but no matter how many times I tell myself that, my body doesn’t listen. I crave him. Crave his touch. Because when I’m in his arms, it feels like all the bad goes away. It feels safe. The whole world dulls, and it’s just him and me and nothing bad can touch me.

  “Don’t cry, Firecracker.” His hold on me tightens, and I can feel his lips press against the side of my head. “Your tears are killing me.”

  “I-I d-don’t even kno-ow why I’m crying.” I sniff loudly. Turning in his arms, I press my face into his chest.

  What the hell is wrong with me? I’m stronger than this. I’ve lived through hell and I’ve survived. Only now, the devil seems to be back and he’s not leaving me alone.

  “Shhh…” I didn’t think it’s possible, but he’s holding on to me even tighter, his hand caressing my back tenderly. “There is nothing wrong with you.”

  I didn’t even realize I said it out loud, but apparently I did.

  “It’s just too much. I thought I was stronger than this. I thought I had it under control.” My voice breaks.

  “What happened was fucked up, Brook.” He pulls back just enough so he can see my face. One rough palm cradles my cheek as his forehead touches mine. “It’s okay not to be strong. It’s okay to break and let other people hold on to you for a little while.”

  I shake my head. I learned early on that the only person you can rely on is yourself. I don’t know how to let go. How do I trust somebody so deeply to let them know my darkest secrets? And even if I did know how, I wouldn’t want to. I wouldn’t want to taint them the way those secrets taint me.

  “C’mere.” Max pulls back, and as soon as our contact breaks, I miss his touch. But then he takes those few short steps and climbs back onto his bed, and once he’s settled, he pats his lap, inviting me to join him.

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I do as he asks. Straddling his thick thighs, I settle in his lap. Max takes my hands in his. He looks at them, his finger tracing the fine lines on my palms. There is intensity and concentration so deep in his stare, like he thinks he’ll find the answers to all my secrets if he concentrates hard enough. Finally, he intertwines our fingers between us, his lips brushing against the back of my hand.

  “I’m strong enough to carry your darkness, Brook,” he whispers, his breath tickling my skin. “Let me.”

  I close my eyes. Am I actually thinking of letting him in? Actually thinking of telling him? I only tried to confide in somebody about what happened once, and it backfired tremendously. Yet… when he looks at me like that—with patience and care written all over his face—I want to tell him. I want to believe in him.

  For years, I’ve been keeping this to myself. For years, I’ve tried to push the memories back, hide them so deep that even I wouldn’t be able to access them. A lot of good that did me, because whether I wanted it or not, they would come back. And like a tornado, they’d come back hard and fast, destroying everything in its wake, leaving me empty and broken.

  “Jo-Josephine…” I swallow, trying to control my breathing. Am I really going to do this? Am I really going to tell him of all people? My tongue darts out, wetting my dry lips. “She met this guy when I was eight. He wasn’t the first of her hookups she’d brought home, nor was he the last, but for some reason, he gave me the creeps from the first moment I saw him.”

  Tears cloud my gaze as I remember. My heart aches for the little girl that I was, the little girl who was betrayed by the people closest to her.

  “It was the way he looked at me. Every time he’d see me, his knowing gaze would take me in from head to toe. And every time, I would feel these uncomfortable prickles going through my body, like ants crawling all over my skin. At the time I didn’t understand it; I just knew I was uncomfortable whenever he was around, but now I know what he was doing. He was undressing me with his eyes. Assessing my body like he knew what was hidden underneath and what he would do to me once he got his chance.”

  My whole body shudders in disgust. Even years later and miles apart, he still had this effect on me. Disgusted with myself and him, the humiliation that never goes away piles in my stomach, and I can feel the bile rise in my throat.

  “Brook…”

  I can hear it in his voice, pity, and it makes my throat close, but I stop him with a shake of my head. I look away, unable to face him, not wanting to see the look in his eyes when he finds out. “Unfortunately for me, he wasn’t one of the guys who was just passing through our house. No, he was there for the long haul. They had this on and off thing for a few years, and every time they were in the “on” mode and he was around, I tried to stay out of their way as much as I could. Until one night Josephine had to stay late at work and she told him to wait at our place. She never did that. We didn’t have much, but she had some stashes of drugs and alcohol around the house, and since she wasn’t one to share easily, she didn’t like people around when she wasn’t there.”

  “What happened?” Max rasps. His voice is low, his body stiff underneath mine.

  “He wasn’t interested in her stash…” I laugh softly at the absurdity of it. My mother was always worrying about keeping her vices safe, never once thinking about her daughter who she was leaving with strangers. “The room was dark. I should have been sleeping, but I knew he was out there, so I couldn’t. Only at some point, I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew my door creaked open and I jolted awake.”

  “Brook…” Max tries again, but I’m too far gone now to stop.

  “I don’t know how long he’d been standing there; it seemed like forever. I hoped he’d go away after a while, but instead, he came inside. Every step he took was like a loud bang in my mind. My heart was beating so hard I was sure he could hear it, but I kept pretending to be asleep. That first night he just watched me, and the next time again, and again, until one night watching wasn’t enough and he lay by me. It went on for weeks. Every time before he’d go, he’d lean closer, brush my hair out of his way, press his lips against my temple and whisper in my ear. This is our little secret, Brookie. You don’t want to make your mom angry by telling her. I wonder what she’d do if she found out. He knew I was awake, and he was toying with me.” I swallow the ache and bile in my throat, pushing the damning words out. “Until he wasn’t.”

  One tear rolls down my cheek, but I don’t wipe it away.

  “I’m not even sure how long it was. Sometimes he wouldn’t come for weeks, and sometimes we’d be alone a few times a week. Every time, he’d do the same, and every time he finally left me alone, I’d feel dirty and scared, so I’d push those memories in a box, making myself forget. But that night things were different. He and my mom had a fight and she stormed out, and when he came to my room, he was smashed. He did his creeping thing, and when he got to my bed…”

  A sob rips out of my throat so loudly it surprises me. I was so stuck in the dark memories I didn’t even notice. Tears were rolling down my cheeks, my fingers gripping Max’s so hard my knuckles turned white.

  “I can still feel his meaty fingers trying to grope me. The way his warm, alcohol-stained breath made my stomach roll as he leaned down to kiss me. I tried to fight him off; I really did.” I close my eyes to stop the burning tears from falling, but he’s there. “He’d never gone that far, and a part of me was trying to reason with that. He’s not doing anything bad, he’s not touching me… But, he was touching me and I didn’t want it. I asked him to stop. Begged him to stop. Pleaded with him to let me go. But he didn’t listen. He never listened.”

  I lean forward, burrowing my head into Max’s chest. His hands wrap around me, pulling me closer into his firm body. I hold on to his shirt like I’m holding on for dear l
ife, my fingers grasping the soft material as I cry all the tears I should have cried ages ago.

  Tears of betrayal. Tears of anger. Tears of loneliness. Tears I should have cried for that little girl whose innocence was taken away from her.

  “Shhh… I’ve got you, Brook,” Max whispers, his voice thick with emotion as he rocks our bodies. “I’ve got you, and you’re safe now. I won’t let anybody touch you.”

  His hand that’s caressing my back softly only makes me cry harder. And he lets me. Max’s hold doesn’t loosen for a second as he lets me cry it all out until there are no tears left inside of me. Until my whole body is drained and my feelings are out in the open. Not once complaining. Not once judging.

  For the first time in years, my story is out in the open, and it feels like somebody believes me.

  Chapter Thirty

  MAX

  Brook’s body shakes in my arms, and the only thing I can do is hold her tighter. My throat is dry, and no matter how many times I try to open my mouth, no words come out. Are there even any words to say? He used her. He shamed her. He threatened her. He ra… I shake my head to push it all back, because I know if I don’t, I’m going to jump out of here to find him and when I do, he’s a dead man. It doesn’t matter that I don’t know who or where he is.

  She hiccups softly, breaking me out of my rage-induced haze. My body is tense, and I try to relax. Brook is still draped over me, and I don’t want her to think it’s somehow her fault. That what she just told me makes me look at her differently because it sure as hell doesn’t. She’s still the same no-nonsense girl I met back in August. She’s still that strong, fiercely loyal girl she’s always been, even if she doesn’t see it herself.

  So I grit my teeth and push all of my feelings away. This is about Brook, and she doesn’t need me to freak out on her now. She needs me to hold her together and take all the pain away. You promised her that. You promised you’re strong enough to handle her darkness… But never in my wildest dreams did I think that’s what I’d find once I opened all the layers that make Brook Taylor the woman she is.