by Fields, MJ
I feel so vulnerable and defeated by his anger.
“Y-yes.” I sound scared because I am.
He went from calm to scary and then to cruel in a matter of minutes.
He pours himself more wine, and I let myself back inside, leaving my food for him to clear.
I turn on the water in the shower, feeling ill as I take my clothes off piece by piece. I’m clean, but I need to clear my head. Soft black jersey leggings, white V-neck T-shirt, and a pair of lacy bra and panties sit in a heap in the corner of this luxurious white marble bathroom. All at once, I straighten my back and make another conscious decision not to listen to him. I’m an adult. I refuse to allow his opinion of me—or any man’s opinion, for that matter—affect how I see myself. I’ve spent too many years hanging my self-worth on a man’s opinion, and I’m sick of it. I guess, in some twisted way, I can thank the shooting for that.
Slade believes I’m nothing more than a beautiful outer shell? Well, fuck him! Any man who believes that is missing out on me—a woman with intelligence and kindness and more love and loyalty in her pinkie than any of them have in their entire bodies. The right man is out there for me, somewhere. I just haven’t found him yet. Just because Slade’s decided I’m not valuable doesn’t mean my fate is decided. He can kiss my perky ass.
Ten
Slade
Lake Powell is a sight to behold. White houseboats line the sandy shore while kids play in the water, drifting down slides and balancing on colorful noodles. Once upon a time, I would have wanted a life just like this. Beautiful wife. Few kids. I crack my knuckles, refocusing. None of that is meant for me.
I’m holding a plastic bag filled with two six-packs of Corona that we picked up from a bodega on our way. Vincent’s got the bag of lunches and drinks the hotel packed for us to take on this excursion.
“Oh my God!” Lauren exclaims, pointing toward the boats. “Those are so awesome. Eve, we should totally rent one of these houseboat thingies one day. Do you see how the slide is connected to the boat? I love it!”
I can’t help but smile at her exuberance. Lauren’s personality is bent toward happiness. Hands on her slim hips, she looks around with joy. Being near her reminds me of what I’ll never have. She’ll wind up happy—so long as she stays far away from me.
I’m a shithead for talking to her the way I did last night, but it’s for her own good. She needed to know the score. And my temper? I lost complete control when she asked me about Vegas. Just another event pointing to the fact that I’m fucked up in the head and losing control of myself.
Once she steps off the balcony, I let myself out of the room and chain-smoke off the property for hours, polishing off a six-pack of beer. When I finally get back to the room, she’s sound asleep, curled beneath layers of sheets. Face calm and relaxed, as it should be. I pop a few benzos in my mouth, ensuring that I’ll sleep like the dead.
At six a.m., my alarm goes off. I’m on the carpeted floor and completely fogged up. Forcing myself awake, I drink a few cups of water out of the sink before changing my clothes and heading down to the hotel’s gym. The machines look completely new. The weight section seems as though it’s never been touched with rows of silver kettlebells in a wide range of weights, sitting neatly in size order.
Running six uphill miles on the treadmill, followed by six sets of fifty plyo push-ups on the floor, my entire body drips with sweat. The fog begins to lift. Vincent shows up midway through my workout. He must realize I’m not in the mood for conversation because he leaves me good and alone without anything more than a nod hello.
Back in the room, I still feel like a damn criminal with the way I treated Lauren. Coffee brews while I wash up in the hot shower, trying not to think about her as I soap my body. Lifting her small black shampoo bottle and opening its top, I inhale. Leaning against the wall, I drop my head against the cold marble, trying to fight through the turmoil I feel inside. But I can’t. My mind is shattered, not to be controlled. I curse, stepping back to the spray. I want this woman so fucking much, but I’m nothing but a lowlife. I refuse to live in some fantasy where Lauren would be enough to eradicate all the shit I went through overseas. In actual life, I have no choice but to drink and take meds if I want to sleep anywhere near her. I might have lost control, but I’m not delusional.
Sitting on the terrace, I make sure to position my chair so I can see her, but she can’t see me. After my third black cup, she wakes with swollen, bee-stung lips and perfectly braided hair. Lauren sleeps in soft pink cotton shorts and a matching shirt. I stare at her long legs and beautiful arms, the bruise still wrapping around the left. A small sliver of stomach peeking out between her top and shorts has me salivating. Pulling out a cigarette, I let the smoke push down my craving for her.
I want nothing more than to mark her. Establish ownership of her body and mind. She thinks I have no clue who she is as a woman, but she thinks wrong. She’s intelligent, not selfish or simple in the least. I see how she acts to everyone around her with kindness and grace. Always reading. Making sure to check in with work so that the girl covering her doesn’t drown. Still, I need her to hate me. I don’t deserve the love of a woman like her, nor am I in the state of mind to have it.
She returns from the bathroom and glances around the room, presumably noticing my absence. Grabbing some clothes, she reenters the bathroom. Is she locking the door to keep the monster out? She should. The absence of her in my line of sight makes me feel strangely desperate, but I sit and wait.
She comes out, looking fresh and gorgeous in a short yellow sundress with red strawberries that look painted on. Those round bug-glasses I ribbed her for sit above her head. I stare at my phone, making her think she’s far from my mind’s eye.
She steps onto the balcony. “I’m leaving.” Silence descends as she turns on a gold sandal.
I nod, although she can’t see me. Not that I deserve her eyes.
A man wearing a captain’s hat stands on a boat, waving us over. Even though I insisted we didn’t need a guide, Vincent wouldn’t budge.
“This way, we’ll enjoy ourselves without worrying about where we’re going,” he tells me over the ridiculously nice breakfast buffet, complete with a section of rare fresh fruits and cheeses, an entire spread of breads that would rival any bakery, and a section of different salads.
An omelet station stands to the left where a chef is ready to make any egg concoction one could dream of. Of course, there is also a menu to order from, if you don’t feel like getting up. The excess can be fun when in the right mindset, but sometimes, it’s straight-up sickening. Just imagining the waste of this hotel while the world hungers makes my anger rise.
Lauren eats a cucumber, tomato salad on the left side of her plate and scrambled egg whites with spinach and feta cheese on the right. She drinks her coffee hot with a drop of skim milk and no sugar. My behavior is obsessive, even for a man like me who is always paying attention to everything. But I can’t stop myself.
“Hey there!” the captain greets us, white linen shirt bright against his leather-tanned skin. His voice shakes me back into the moment. “I’m Randy. My boat is ready for you. We got bodyboards, tubes, and water skis.” He shakes each of our hands.
Eve jumps up and down, unable to contain her excitement, while Vincent smiles like he won the goddamn lottery. Making Eve happy is his kryptonite. Lauren smiles wide, too. I’ll never be the one to make her smile like that; I can’t be. The thought is the ultimate in sobering. And yet, each time she blinks, my fixation with her grows.
The happy couple gets on first, Vincent’s arm wrapped around his tiny wife. I step onto the speedboat after them, putting out my hand to help Lauren on. She might hate me, but I don’t want her falling. The boat shakes, but she refuses to take what I’m offering. I should be glad. Whatever it takes to get her to move on is a good thing. This is what I wanted, and this is what I got.
Lifting the top of the cooler, I drop the beers inside before stepping to the back of
the boat.
“Who wants to tube first?” Randy smiles as he puts the boat in gear.
In unison, Lauren and Eve scream, “Me!”
Vincent laughs, and I try to smile, needing to act like a normal guy who’s well-adjusted in the world. A regular guy who is vacationing with his best friend and a beautiful woman.
“No problem, ladies. You’re both small enough to share.”
The captain drives approximately ten minutes into the center of the lake. The temperature outside feels around eighty-five degrees.
He stops the boat to grab the tube while Lauren does a little shimmy out of her short sundress. I want to stand up and cover her or tell her to keep it on. She lifts it from the floor and neatly folds it, placing it down on the seat. Her bathing suit is cherry red and shows the tops of her breasts. I sigh in relief because it’s a one-piece and not a skimpy bikini. Her fingers move deftly as she braids her shining hair to the side, laughing at something the captain said. Lauren weaves each section of her hair together until she looks like a bona fide mermaid. How she does her hair like that, I’ll never know.
Turning around to face the water, she holds the top of the silver ladder that leads to the lake. I stare at her back, and my jaw drops. The suit dips all the way down, reaching the top of her perky ass. The bottom isn’t much either. It’s not a thong, but it’s small. Like, really fucking tiny and barely covering. I want to run up with a towel and cover her before anyone can see what I see. That she’s perfect.
I need to calm down. “Yo, Vincent, grab me a beer.”
He opens the cooler and takes one out. “Not too cold yet.”
“It’ll do.”
I catch his throw. It pops open with a hiss, and I drink. It’s warmish, but I’ll take what I can get. Leaning over the edge, I watch Lauren climb onto the black-and-white-striped tube. On her stomach, she holds on to the small black grips, long legs behind her. I wish I’d checked the tube before he placed it into the water. What if it has holes?
The girls scream their heads off with glee as Randy turns the engine on high, turning the boat left and right in an attempt to get them to flip. My throat dries as I continuously scan the lake. What if there are hidden rock formations, and the tube hits one? A million terrible scenarios pass through my head, all ending with Lauren hurt. The tube pops up against the water over and over again, making a popping sound. My hands start to shake.
“Get low!” someone yells as gunfire sprays.
Rex and I drop down, the rocks on this dingy mountain digging into our stomachs.
We’ve got a good spot, I think as I tighten my hold on the gun in my hands. I’m ready.
“Whoever is shooting these guns doesn’t know how to use ’em.” I look over, and Rex laughs, heavy equipment surrounding him like toys on Christmas.
The shots ping past us, hitting nothing but air.
I chuckle as we wait for the firing to end.
I blink quickly, clenching and then unclenching my fists. I’m here. On Lake Powell. I’m here. On Lake Powell …
Pulling out a cigarette from my back pocket, I quickly light it up. Hell isn’t a place. It’s memories—and I’m living in them. The nicotine helps to settle my nerves, but I wish I’d brought some extra pills with me, too. Just to soften the blunt edges. I popped two this morning, but clearly, it’s not enough. Not anymore.
“You’ve really picked up the habit.” Vincent helps himself to a cigarette while he chastises me.
I exhale. “Guess you could say that. Nothing like a smoke and a beer and a boat.”
I light him up.
“Did you contact Veterans Affairs? Make sure you give them our timeline, so they know when we’ll begin hiring. There are always delays, so give them a few months out.”
“Already done.”
On a scream, the girls flip over, and my heart skids to a pause. I’m ready to jump into the water to grab Lauren when she pops up, giggling. My rational mind knows she’s wearing a life vest. But, until she’s back here, next to me, I can’t stop stressing.
Vincent puts out his full cigarette into the cup I’m using as an ashtray and dives headfirst into the water. Eve swims hard, trying to get away from him. Within two strokes, he’s caught up and grabbing her into his arms. The other day, Eve mentioned that it was Vincent who’d taught her to swim.
The water sparkles around Lauren as she does the backstroke toward the boat. I feel relief in my chest when her soft hands grab on to the ladder.
She’s okay.
After a few hard pulls, I put out my cigarette, too.
Randy points north. “The slot canyons are there. We’ll head over now.”
I finish my beer and open another as the girls dry off with fresh towels and scroll through their phones. Lauren mentions something about skirts and dresses. They seem to be shopping.
“Oh, I love these pumps.” She turns excitedly to Eve, handing her the pink crystal-looking cell phone. “Comfortable, too, because the heel isn’t too high and super classic, too. It’ll be perfect.”
What the heck is a pump? Lauren’s got a vocabulary I just don’t understand.
Vincent gets on the phone, yelling to his attorney about rental payments from one of his retail spaces.
The boat pulls over before Randy takes down three blue paddleboards and oars.
She tucks her phone between the folds of her sundress before lifting her hands to the top of her eyes, shielding herself from the sun. “I can’t believe I forgot a hat,” she complains to Eve. “I’m going to age, like, ten years from the sun here.”
I immediately pull the hat off my head. “Here,” I offer.
“No, it’s—”
“It’s cool.” I tighten the back and hand it to her. “You’ll burn. And who wants sunspots?”
She tries not to smile. “Are you messing with me right now?”
“No. Just wear it.”
Hesitantly, she puts it on. NAVY in bold letters stares back at me.
“Looks good.” I clench my fists, trying not to enjoy the fact that she’s wearing something that’s mine.
“Thanks.” She gives me an undeserved smile.
I eat it up like a starving man given a morsel of food. I never knew how hungry I was until Lauren.
We paddle through the slots as the girls marvel at the colors and light play. Vincent once told me that this part of the country made him believe in God. I finally understand why. It’s centuries of evolution written in rock formations. Every detail here was made by nature alone.
“Basically, what happens”—Eve’s voice echoes—“is there’s a crack in the rock. A heavy rain comes down and seeps into that crack along with sediment and natural debris, which then carve away at the inside edges.”
Sharing a board, Vincent quickly paddles himself and Eve around the bend as they continue their discussion. I slow myself down to brush my hands against the red-and-orange-striped wall. It’s so smooth.
Lifting my head, I notice that Lauren’s no longer ahead of me. Turning my head, I see she isn’t behind me either. Still, I didn’t see her rush ahead with the others.
“Lauren?” I call out.
No reply.
“Fuck.” I want to spin my board around, but the slot is too narrow. Paddling faster, I try to reach a wider section but can’t find one. I get off the board, starting to swim. The water is cold as shit, but I couldn’t care less. Did she fall? The light dims as I swim around, dunking underwater and swimming deeper to see if she’s there. I can’t see her.
I pop back up.
“Boo!” she screams.
My eyes widen in surprise as I turn. “You—”
Her laughter is song. “You were zoned out, and I hid behind that section. Never thought I’d get you into the water though,” she says happily on her board, pointing to a small bend on the right. “Looks like you’re too slow, Slade.”
I want to grab her. Tear her clothes off and show her how fast I can be. Instead, I climb back on the board and t
ightly grip my oar. “It’s dangerous. You should never sneak up on someone. Especially not on a man like me.” My mouth dries out, words sounding like a threat.
“Oh, is that right?” she sasses. “You might have scared me last night with your temper and tough-guy attitude. But, in the light of day, I see you’re nothing but an asshole. You don’t scare me, Slade. Not one. Little. Bit. Oh, and here’s your hat.” She throws it at me, and it lands straight at my chest.
Eve calls out, “You guys coming or what?”
Lauren paddles away, ahead of me, cursing under her breath.
Shit.
Back on the boat, Vincent pulls out our lunches, packed by the hotel. Mine is a crusty baguette filled with ham, cheese, and honey. Lauren seems to have taken one with vegetables and cheese.
“Vincent, you were right on this one.” I take a huge bite while the sun beats down over my shoulders. “Bringing food from the hotel was a total win.”
We’re sitting on the couch beds in the front of the boat while the girls scroll through their phones, showing each other some more clothes. Finally, Lauren opens her sandwich, picking out the vegetables inside like a bird might do.
“You have something against bread?” I open another beer. My third.
“Um, of course I do.” She shrugs, munching on a slice of cucumber. “My body doesn’t process grain.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that bread makes her fat.” Eve laughs, and Lauren grabs a small white pillow, hitting her in the shoulder.
“People are hungry in the world, Lauren. You shouldn’t waste.”
I’m back to acting like a dick, but I need to stop my feelings. She yelled at me a few minutes ago, and it only makes me want her more. Her strength and confidence are a turn-on like nothing else. I’m protective of her. I want her, but I can’t have her. And that makes me mad.
“Seriously, that makes no sense. Regardless of whether or not I eat this bread, children are still hungry.”
