by A. M. Wilson
“Maybe so. But even then, there’s always hope. She taught me that. Those moments when I was so sure I’d die there, she taught me how to hold on.”
“How’d she do that?” I’m curious and tortured with every word out of her mouth. This is the closest I’ve been to hearing about Molly. About the conditions she lived in. My imagination isn’t conjuring this. It’s coming straight from a reliable source, so I crave more as much as I detest it.
“Memories.” Shelby smiles. “She said sometimes when she feels like giving up, she’d think of a memory of her life before. That would help give her a burst of strength. You might not be trapped somewhere physical, but you are trapped somewhere, Alex. I can feel it.”
Trapped. What an apt term to describe my life.
“We going to watch a movie or what?”
She quickly releases my hand. I forgot it was still wrapped in her grasp. Once her touch is gone, I instantly miss it.
“Yes, please. Elias won’t be back to pick me up until around 9:30. He had a date.”
“That make you jealous?”
Her eyes go wide, and she frowns. “Of course not. I’m happy he isn’t sacrificing his dating life for my sake.”
“You don’t feel pretty cozy with him?” Jesus, asshole. Why do I always have to resort to pushing her away?
“I don’t think I’ll ever feel cozy with a man again, to be honest.”
The truth in those words strikes me deep, and my regret intensifies. “Sorry,” I mutter.
She shrugs. “Worse things than not ever being loved. I could be dead.”
“I thought I was the negative one.” As if we are a couple, and she’s the yin to my yang.
“I thought that was a pretty positive observation.”
I plant my foot on the floor and push myself farther into the right side of the couch so I can face her better. The TV is long forgotten. “Yeah, the part about not being dead. I’m talking about the part of never being loved. What the fuck is that about?”
She smiles, but it’s small and sad. “Oh, come on. I might have been kidnapped at sixteen, but I’m not stupid about men and relationships. My chances of finding someone to love me when I can’t stand them touching me is pretty slim to nonexistent.”
“You let me touch you. You slept in the same bed as me.”
She stills as if that hadn’t occurred to her and hums. “Hmm. Maybe you’re right. I’m stuck in the now and letting that get into my head. I forgot to hold onto hope.”
“You know what? I think you’re full of it.”
“Yeah, you are too.”
Our eyes lock across the expanse of the couch between us. “What are you doing here, Shelby?”
“I don’t know. I’m just taking it one day at a time.”
“Don’t you want to go home? See your family?”
“I’m not sure I have a family left. Even if I do, I don’t know how to go back to that. I lived a different life for over two years. It’s not as easy as waltzing back home and walking in the front door. There’s so much shame. I’m not the daughter they knew.”
“If you were Molly, I’d take you however I could get you just so I could have you back.”
“I know. But I need to do it my own way. When I’m ready.”
“Don’t you want to call? Let them know you’re alive?”
She sighs. “I know you’re thinking from the other side. And I appreciate your input. I really do. But after two years of being forced how to live, I need to do this for me. I know I’ll never be back to normal, but before I talk to them, I want to be as close as I can be to the daughter they knew.”
I start to open my mouth, but she cuts me off.
“Can we move on from the heavy? I need a dose of happiness right about now.”
“Right.” I spring off the couch and grab the controller that fell to the floor at some point. “Use the directional pad to move between movies. Pick what you want. I’m going to grab something to drink.”
She takes the controller delicately as if she’s trying to avoid brushing my fingers. “No alcohol, please.” The words are so soft I almost don’t hear them.
And it hurts that I was naturally going for the liquor in the cabinet. The motion was subconscious. I never actually made the decision to grab a hard drink, but I’m Sin, and that’s what I do. Now I have to decide if I’m going to do what I always do or make a different choice for the woman in my living room.
Do I care?
Do I want to?
When I stop fighting, it seems so easy. “Only water here,” I lie.
“Good.” She smiles at the TV as she flips through the selections.
I make myself busy adding ice to a glass and filling it from the tap to give her a little space. I need it too. I’ve never talked so openly about my past before. Not even to Elias. He’s only heard bits and pieces, usually when I’ve been too drunk to censor myself.
“Do you want some?”
“No thanks,” she calls out in a timid voice.
“Shelby.”
The cursor on the TV stops moving as her fingers lock around the controller. “Yes?”
“Do you want some fucking water?”
Her eyes go wide as they lock onto mine. I can see it there. She wants water, but she’s so damn conditioned not to ask for anything.
You’re thirsty. Ask me for some damn water.
I hold her gaze as I bring my glass to my lips. Condensation has formed from the ice. A drop trickles down the side of the glass, and I catch it with my tongue, licking it up to the rim. We stare each other down as I take a long, cool drink.
“Shelby,” I growl. My voice snaps her out of her trance.
“Y-yes, please.”
The glass hits the counter with a thud, and I cross my arms over my chest. “Yes, please what?”
She takes a deep breath, her shoulders shuddering. “Yes, please, I’d like some water.”
“Then go get some. You’re free to help yourself in my house.” I grab my glass and saunter back into the living room.
She scrambles off the couch and into the kitchen.
“You haven’t eaten all day, have you? Not even a drink.”
“Will you get angry if I answer honestly?”
“You just did.” A darkness filters through my voice. What was Elias thinking, leaving her here all day when she can hardly fend for herself?
“Why ask me if I want a drink if you were just going to make me get it myself?”
I sling my arm over the back of the couch and twist to face her. “You’re back in the real world, princess. You want something, you get it. No more of this waiting for permission shit. That said, you better also fix yourself a damn sandwich, so help me God …”
“I don’t know how to do that. Not ask for permission, that is. I know how to make a sandwich,” she answers softly as she goes about doing that.
“Then I’m gonna teach you.”
Shelby starts coughing loudly. I raise an eyebrow in her direction.
“You?” she sputters, trying to catch her breath.
“Who better? I’m already an asshole.”
I try not to grin as she picks up her water, looks away, and takes a small sip. I give her a moment to get back to the couch. I don’t want to make her trip with my surprise comments.
“You think I’m an asshole,” I tease even though it’s not really funny. She thinks I’m an asshole because I’ve been nothing but one since the moment she arrived. “You gonna pick a movie or scroll through the titles all day?”
“Um, maybe you should—ˮ
“No.”
“Sin.”
“Alex.”
“Alex!”
“You want to watch a movie, blossom, you pick.”
“Fine.” With more attitude than I’ve ever seen from her, she picks up the controller, presses the button a few times, and picks her movie.
“Fuck me, really? Could you have picked a more girly movie?” Even through my bitching, I sett
le back on the couch.
“You made me do it. Now shut up and watch.”
My lips twitch at her fire. “That won’t happen. I cannot and will not watch A Walk to Remember. I’m takin’ a nap.”
“Here?” She tries to mask it, but her voice still comes out high-pitched and wobbly.
“I’m too comfortable to move, so I guess so.”
“Okay, Alex.”
Okay, Alex. There it is again. Her sweet voice responding in a way that implies trust and gratitude. All for what? Sitting on the couch with her while she watches a damn movie? This girl has been through unmentionable horrors. Things most grown adults can’t even fathom. Yet she’s simply happy to have a companion while she watches a movie that she got to pick. The simplicity of it all sends a warmth spreading through me, and drifting to sleep is as easy as breathing.
Chapter Nine
Sin
When I woke, she was gone.
Elias must have come back for her during my nap. The lingering effects of my withdrawal made me sleep like the dead. I woke up on the couch this morning with my body screaming at me for falling asleep there last night. Now I’m in the shower letting the hot water do its work on my aching neck.
Something is happening to me. Something big.
I don’t know how, but the little princess has gotten under my skin. She makes me think and reevaluate my life choices. She pushes my buttons without even trying. I’ve moved one step up from wanting to wring her skinny neck, and I might actually care about her.
I live in a small circle. For the longest time, it only had Molly and Elias. When Molly disappeared, my father redeemed himself by helping to search for her. The three of them existed as the sole people I could trust for so long. Then my pop died. It broke me more than I care to admit.
Who am I kidding? The scalding water pounding on my back elicits a groan from my chest as I give myself a dose of reality. I was already well past shattered, but the pieces were still held together. His death was the catalyst for ripping me apart again.
The dark path I followed after Molly went missing beckoned me back down its twisted trail and brought me to the cliff face. I nearly jumped. The thought of ending it all was sweet.
The drinking.
The fighting.
The drugs.
The women.
It was only a matter of time until I got on my bike shit-faced, without a helmet, and crashed. Or OD’d on heroin. Or picked the wrong guy to kick my ass.
I’d brought a knife to a gunfight too many times, and my reckless behavior was more than a tough-guy persona.
Shelby brought that to light. She put it into perspective with the horrified look on her face as she stared down at my drug paraphernalia. I feel like I owe it to her now to help her out. Put her on a path to a better life.
I run my hand down my body, spreading soap along my colorful chest and down the black trail of hair on my stomach. My hand drops to my dick, and the damn thing surges to life as her face comes to mind. Those blue eyes and red, puffy lips stand out like a cherry on a sundae against her porcelain skin.
My fist wraps tight around my cock, and it feels so damn good. I give it two pumps, feeling a rush of pleasure. Closing my eyes, I rest my forehead against the cold tile.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Horrified, I release my dick as my heart pounds in my chest. I’m filled with shame. Utter, sickening, self-loathing.
I can’t be another man who does that to her. Fantasizes about her. Makes her do things in my head that she’d never do for real. I have a gaggle of women who’d come at my call. I can’t do that to her. I just can’t. I won’t.
Time to get out before my self-control wears thin, and I prove to myself again that I’m such a fucking bastard.
After I’m dressed, I lock up the apartment and leave. I had planned on calling on my father’s cleaning lady today, but it looks like Shelby took care of that for me. At least my home is clean enough to live in. Now that Shelby is a somewhat functioning human being, there’s no reason for us all to be bunking at Elias’s. She still needs to stay out of sight for her own safety, but I can leave those two alone.
I park my bike in the lot outside of his complex and let myself in with my key.
The place is dead silent when I walk into the kitchen. Not knowing if Elias left Shelby alone, I let out the stupid whistle.
Still nothing.
My gut churns with unease as I slowly make my way through the place. No lights, not even a TV left on. Where would he have taken her?
I hit the first bedroom on the right, the guest room, and that’s where I find them. Just the sight makes my chest burn hot with an emotion I can’t name. So still they could be dead, but I know they’re not. Just sleeping, curled tightly into each other like two blissful lovers.
As I take a step back to leave, my foot hits a loose board, and the floor creaks loudly. Shelby jolts upright in bed, but Elias doesn’t even stir.
“Sin. I mean, Alex. Hi,” she greets, more than a little breathless sounding, and if I’m not mistaken, guilty. The name switch feels like a stab right in the chest, so what do I do? I do what I always do. Turn into a fucking dick.
“Lookin’ cozy there, princess. Sorry to interrupt your morning fuck session.” Shelby’s face pales. “I need my clothes from the closet, and I’ll get out of your space.”
“It’s not what it looks like.”
“Yeah?” I sneer. “What’s it look like, then?”
“Not what you’re thinking, but I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she fires back in that mixture of fear and strength she’s been showing more of lately. Normally, it warms me to see her showing some signs of confidence, but today I’m too pissed off to care.
“No, you don’t. In fact, I like them quiet.” Reaching behind my back, I grab my shirt and pull it over my head. Shelby gasps. “If you scoot over, I can join the two of you. I like a threesome now and then.”
Her widened eyes and slack jaw are the confirmation that I hit my mark, which means I stepped about a hundred yards over the boundary. Wadding my shirt up into a ball, I throw it at her, and the cotton material hits her in the face. She’s too stunned to do anything other than let it fall to her lap.
Without a word, I walk to the closet, yank a clean shirt over my head, and tear everything else down. The metal hangers clank together from the force. One spins off the rail and lands somewhere behind my feet while another smacks me in the face. I’m sure I hear the material of one shirt tear. My hands wad the clothes tightly while I fight the urge to throw my fist through the closet wall. I close my eyes and try to control my harsh breathing.
Why do I do this? To myself? To her? There’s no sweetness in this torture I put us through. It shouldn’t surprise me to find her wrapped in his arms when I drive her there with every word out of my mouth.
When I feel more in control, I turn on my heel and head straight for the door. “Sorry,” leaves my mouth in a nearly unintelligible grunt.
I drop the clothes on the kitchen counter and rustle beneath the kitchen sink for a garbage bag. Her presence enters the room. She has this scared energy about her that I swear I can feel inside me whenever she’s near.
“I had a dream last night that I was back there,” she whispers.
I close my eyes and grit my teeth. My fingers feel the garbage bags, so I grab one and just hold it in my fist.
“You were there too. Captured,” she goes on. “They had you tied to a chair.”
I spring to my feet and start shoving the clothes into the bag. I need to get out of here. I bunch the top in my fist and turn to leave but find Shelby blocking the exit. I try to avoid her stare, but her watery eyes are locked on me, begging me to listen to her.
“They forced you to watch while they raped me and—ˮ
I look at the ceiling, jaw clenched so hard it trembles, because I know where this is going.
I know.
I know.
I know.
; It’s just a dream.
“Your sister was there. They brought her out too.”
It’s just a dream.
It was just a dream.
A sound escapes me. An unintentional one that sounds like a wounded animal screaming. It’s not an animal, though. That sound is me.
The bag slips from my hand and hits the floor with a rustle. The smell of plastic infiltrates my nose as the air rushes out. My hands clap on either side of my head, and I fall to my knees right there on the hard tile in Elias’s kitchen at her feet. My back bows, and my chest heaves painfully as I try to rid the images from my mind.
“No,” I groan, agonized.
“If you were here, I would have gone to your bed. I would have gone to you. I wanted to have you hold me,” she murmurs in a pained voice.
I’m bent over so far my forehead nearly touches my knees as I try to rein it in and control my breathing. “Why?” It’s the only word I can get out that makes any sense.
“I don’t know,” Shelby responds to my question.
I wasn’t asking why she would have come to my bed. That part is obvious. I’m asking a rhetorical why do we have to go through this? We’ve both suffered more than enough.
Heat pricks the corners of my eyes, a sensation I haven’t felt in God knows how long. I jam my thumb and forefinger into them.
“Alex.”
Her voice sends a quivering ache through my chest, but I don’t trust myself enough to speak. I’m either going to lash out again or fucking cry, and I don’t want to do either.
I don’t even hear her move, but her slender arm wraps around me from behind, clenching me tight around my upper chest. Curling my arm at the elbow, I reach for her, needing to feel the warmth and contact of another human being. It wasn’t even my dream, but it feels like it could have been. Like I’ve had a similar dream a thousand times and can vividly recall the way it made me feel.
The moment my palm connects with her skin, the agony begins to evaporate, and a calmness takes over. The coil in my chest releases and my shoulders shudder violently as I release the pent-up tension from trying to hold myself together. I start to breathe easy again.
My palm slides along her forearm until I reach her hand where it’s gripping my shoulder. I pry her fingers off. She tenses, and I know it’s because she thinks I’m going to push her away again. Stunning us both, I thread our fingers together and press our hands tighter against my shoulder.
