Marked

by Charisse Spiers

  I fold back half of the cover, narrowing the width to half the full size, and then place the envelope between my teeth to free up my hand. Grabbing two of the corners of the vinyl cover, I pull it off the corner of the Jacuzzi and turn it toward me, then point it down to the ground and slide it downward, using the edge of the Jacuzzi as a support to bear the weight of the cover until the end rests on top of the cement. I wrap my arms around the standing Jacuzzi cover, grabbing it in a bear hug and lifting it off the ground, before waddling it over to rest against the wall.

  I grab the envelope from my mouth and walk to the steps, quickly shedding my tee shirt before climbing them and stepping inside. As I descend into the water, the warm temperature begins to relax me instantly. "Damn, that feels good."

  I take stance on my knees, walking along the bench seat to the corner closest to the lighting, the corner beside the controls. Surprisingly there is a breeze out, making it feel even better as it cools my upper body while my core temperature rises from the hot water. I glance at the controls until I find the one that turns on the jets and the lights in the Jacuzzi. It's loud, but I can't seem to care right now. Surely he isn’t that light of a sleeper. He’s upstairs.

  I lean forward, draping my arms over the side, and letting the jet spray against my front so I can open this sketchy envelope my mother obviously felt was important, without getting it wet.

  I tear through the seal, pulling the piece of paper inside free. When I open it, I realize it's a letter. I'm more curious now.

  Chuck,

  It's been a LONG time. I haven't spoken to you in over twenty-five years, and for good reason. The thing is, that last time I spoke with you was the last time I ever saw you. I know I disappeared; leaving you with no assistant and no notice, but there was a reason I couldn't explain in person, because you never gave me the opportunity to. Not after what happened did. All those years ago, I fell in love with you. Late night work hours, overnight work trips, and dinner meetings, turned into so much more. When we started seeing each other intimately I said I wasn't going to, because you weren't mine to have, but I guess we can't always control who we fall in love with, right? There was something about you that I could never move past, so I continued what we had against what I knew was wrong, giving you all of me. That day I left at lunch and came in late, I tried to break it off, because I was in too deep and I knew it. I knew there was no going back to just being someone that answered your calls and scheduled your meetings, but you had a wife at home; one you had already admitted to me that you had no intentions on leaving. You were comfortable in your life and I was just a pastime. That's fine. I got it. I understood perfectly clear what we were, because you told me often, but then I walked into your office prepared to tell you that we had to end the madness and you wouldn't even let me speak. It was as if I had become nothing more than an object of your desire. I tried to stop you, but you wouldn't have it. My conscience was getting the best of me for what we were doing. I'm not sure what happened to you that day, but the man I saw when I walked in your office wasn't you. You were darker. Bear with me when reading this letter, because I've been attempting this for years now and couldn't find the right words. I left that day, because that was the day I found out I was pregnant with our child. I didn't mean for it to happen, but it did. I waited as long as I could to confirm it, living in denial that surely I was mistaken, but in my heart I knew we had conceived a child, our child. Maybe it was my parental instincts taking over, but I knew we couldn't continue like we were, so I went to sever everything we had...for her. That was before you took everything you could, squeezing the last bit of hope for love that I had. I told you no, Chuck, but you placed your hand over my mouth. I may have told you yes so many times, but that time I said no, and you took it anyway, because you assumed I no longer had a choice. You took everything from me, because I wasn't raped by someone I didn't know, but someone I loved, and that makes it so much worse. That day not only did you take away who I was, but the person I was supposed to be, the mother to our daughter. Her life has been nothing outside of Hell, and for that I blame you, because she grew up without not only one parent but also two. I've lived for twenty-five years trying to figure out why you did what you did, replaying it over in my mind countless times, and why I deserved it, but after alcohol abuse, drugs, whoring, and crying in a repeated cycle, I still come up with nothing. I've lived her entire life choosing you, but not anymore. From now on I'm choosing her. She could have given up on me so many times, but she never did. God knows she had every reason to. She still doesn't, even with all that I've done to her. I'm choosing sobriety. I'm finally forgiving you for what you did to me, Chuck, so I can try to repair what we've both done to our daughter. No matter what she thinks I love her, and dammit she makes me proud. I just wish I had been stronger earlier on, taking control of my own life and mind. The drugs won't consume me any longer. I'm finally telling them goodbye, and you. The hardest part of it all is that she looks just like you, but she has a strength I've never known in anyone else, not you or me. She's a fighter. She's selfless. That I've seen. She's better than both of us, but also the best of ourselves. Maybe one day you'll have the pleasure of knowing her, because she's truly a remarkable person, no matter how fucked up her life has been. She deserves for someone to love her, and only her. She deserves the world, because God and I both know I’ve failed her. Goodbye, Chuck. For once I wish you the best.

  -Katherine

  The piece of paper falls from my grasp onto the cement, wavering in the air along the way. The tears I've been holding back as I read each word break free, no longer containable. My chest feels like it's about to burst from inhaling and being unable to exhale. "Oh God, Mom," I cry. "Why didn't you just explain? I would have understood. I would have fucking understood," I repeat in a whisper.

  The guilt is becoming overwhelming. Every bad thing I've ever said to her and every judgment ever thrown are stacking up against me, her death feeling more and more like my fault with every second that passes. She wasn't a bad mother at all. She was just mentally ill and had let it incubate for years. She needed help. I should have tried more, tried harder. I need relief. I need to forget what I just read. I need to forget a look into a life that I'm better not knowing. I turn around to face the water, moving off the bench into the deeper center, and fold my body to sink below the surface as close as I can get to the bottom without floating back up, holding my breath. I open my eyes, allowing the blurry canvas to remain...trying to forget. My chest becomes tight from the lack of oxygen, but I can't seem to make myself come up for air. I feel dizzy from the temperature of the water I'm submerged in.

  Something snakes beneath my arms. I'm jerked upward, catching me off guard. I break the water's surface, my breathing returning immediately. "What the fuck, Lux?"

  I place my footing on the bottom and try to pull from his grip, but he doesn't allow me to. Instead, he climbs inside and sits down, pulling me to straddle his lap. "What the fuck are you doing out here? Are you trying to drown, kill yourself? You don't submerge yourself in extreme temperatures!"

  "Fuck you. Don't you dare scream at me like a child. I've had a rough day. Anyone almost being raped, losing a parent, moving, and finding out who her biological father is and why her mother was so fucked up, all within forty-eight hours or less, would be overwhelmed. I'm not superwoman. Cut me some fucking slack."

  He grabs my face and looks into my eyes, scanning them. His face softens as he exhales. "Do you know what that just felt like? You weren't moving. I've seen and done a lot of things, things that would terrify the average person, but nothing has scared me like that just did. Please don't do that to me again. I wasn't lying to you before. I love you, Lux. You are the only thing aside from my father that has ever given my life value. Don't take away my reason to live."

  "I wasn't trying to," I say, letting his words sink in. I'm not sure if I should be more terrified that he just verbally told me he loved me, or that over the course of my life it's t
he first time that phrase didn't send me into a panic, ready to run. Instead, it changes the rhythm of my heart, my heart rate beating rapidly, causing my chest to hurt, as if my heart is enlarging physically. "I just needed to breathe...and the air wouldn't come."

  He pulls my lips to his, kissing me roughly, fear showing through. I let him have his way with me, enduring the pain, allowing chaffing of my lips in the process. He releases me, rubbing his thumb along my lips. "I can't say it back, you know. Don't hold it against me. I can't feel something I don't understand."

  "Doesn't matter. It doesn't hold the same meaning if you only say it to hear it in return. It's soon, but I do, Lux. I want you, all of you, the good and the bad, for a very long time. As long as you know that I do, then I don't care if you ever say it back. What triggered this? I want to understand."

  "I couldn't sleep, so I got up to get some water. I noticed some things in the living room that couldn't be mine, so my curiosity got the best of me and I opened the box. It was things my mom kept of my life that I didn't even know she had, but then I found this letter. Hold on."

  I get off of him to bend over the edge of the Jacuzzi, grabbing the letter from the floor, before resuming my position and giving it to him. "Just read it. I can't read it again. It's better for you to just read it yourself than for me to try to explain."

  He shakes the water off of his hand and grabs along the edge that doesn't have ink, careful not to wet it and risk smearing the words. I wait, impatiently, as his eyes scan left to right. It's really hard to breathe normally right now. He finally folds it back up and reaches over the edge to toss it on the steps, before returning his hand to my face. I lean into it, allowing the roughness to brush against my skin. He doesn't say anything. He just keeps staring at me. "What's on your mind?"

  I can see the muscle in his jaw contracting. I'm not sure what's about to come out of his mouth. You never really can tell with him. "That it's almost scary how similar our pasts are. I, too, was the result of an extra marital affair. My mother was also a shitty mother as a result, leaving me to fend for myself for the first eight years of my life while she drank herself into comas, went to bed with a different man often, and lived holding on to something she couldn't have. I lived those eight years with a lie, thinking my father didn't want me, until he came back for me at eight after my sister was murdered. When I left I never heard from my mother again, until I looked her up just recently and paid her a visit, when I went to New York. The only difference in our stories was that I was given a better life along the way, while yours got worse...until now. I'm going to be the one to change your story, Lux. Your mom was right about something. You do deserve for someone to love you, and only you. There is no better way to remember her than to give her the last request she ever made, possibly the only selfless one. The only thing that keeps me from hating my mother is that she let me walk out that door and never interfered, giving me something better than she could give."

  I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry at the fucking irony here. You know, it's understandable why kids go off the fucking deep end, ending their lives or committing heinous crimes in an attempt to gain attention, and love. There is no one standing behind them to help them up when they fall, to discipline them when they do wrong, or to love them through it all, leaving them even more fucked up as adults. I just feel that there is something I have to do, for myself and for her. "I want to go see him," I blurt out.

  "Hell no."

  "Kaston, this isn't your choice."

  "As my job to protect you and as your boyfriend I should have a say. No."

  "I'm going. You can drive me there and sit in the car or I can go alone, but either way I'm going, whether you like it or not."

  "Dammit, Lux. Why? Why do you want to put yourself in a position to get hurt, emotionally or physically? I’m asking you to just be content with the one that loves you; the one that’s in front of you."

  "I have nothing else to lose. What's it matter?"

  "Yeah you do. Me." My mouth falls. "Do you remember that fear I explained several minutes ago? Well, that fear is very real. Don't fucking be careless with your life, and in turn my life."

  I'm not sure I can make him understand, but I'm going to try, because something about that phrase leaves a physical pain in my chest. "If you ever want me, all of me, then I need to do this. This is the only way I can let everything go. I don't want any regrets, or anything left unanswered to kindle in my head like my mother, breaking her in the process. Don't try to control me, just let me go."

  His head falls back. "You are the single most frustrating woman I have ever met in my life." He looks back at me and grabs ahold of my hips. "Fine, if you must, but I'm driving you there and back. I'll even wait in the truck for you to do your thing, but you have thirty minutes alone and if you aren't back in my fucking truck I'm coming in there to get you and all of Hell will break loose. Don't think I won't fucking time it down to the second. Try to fucking argue with me. I know how long it takes to commit a crime. You aren't about to become the victim. I will kill for you. I will rot in a fucking prison cell or take the needle before someone takes you from me. Period."

  He has barely paused long enough to breathe between sentences. I know he’s upset, because he just dropped the word fuck almost once in every sentence, just like me. We are so much alike it really is scary. I stand and slide my panties down my legs, removing them, and then grab the waistband of his briefs. "Holy shit, stop talking. I can't take anymore. You're hot when you're all wound up and upset; acting like a fucking caveman. Use that energy to show me how much you need me instead of telling me. I want you to."

  His demeanor remains serious as he stares at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. He lifts his butt off the bench so that I can pull his briefs down. I stand on my knees straddled over him, giving me a height advantage over him. His hands go to my ass at the same time mine go behind his neck. "My turn to kiss you like I'm dying."

  My lips crash against his, only a moment before desperately seeking his tongue, his taste. One of his hands drops from my ass. I start to lower myself to his lap and the head of his dick meets me halfway, pressing against my entrance. "You're hard for me," I mumble against his lips as I sit down on his dick, his hand leaving the base of his cock as I intake all of him.

  "Aren't I always," he questions, as he thrusts upward, deepening himself inside of me. Our mouths part against each other, our tongues snaking together, both moaning from the way we feel. The stresses of the day start to slip away, and I let them, because he's right. He's always hard for me and I'm always wet for him, no matter how many times we've done this. Instead of me tiring of him I'm quickly realizing that I only want him more, and I hope that doesn't change.

  Kaston pulls into the first available parking spot of the parking garage. I have no idea what I'm supposed to expect or even say. I'm going with gut on this one. I have no idea if he's even here. I didn't call ahead. I didn't want to. Kaston shifts into park as I grab my purse. I place the straps of my purse on my shoulder and reach for the door handle. He grabs my hand, tugging my arm toward him. I look back as I pull the handle, about to push the door open. "I meant what I said. Thirty minutes, Lux. That's the limit. One second over and I'm coming into that fucking brokerage company with guns blazing. Do you hear me?"

  I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, shaking my head. "Whatever you say, Killer."

  He leans over the center console and grabs my chin between his thumb and index finger, then exerts a slight pressure to pull me closer. Our mouths are merely a centimeter apart. "You really have no fucking idea the things I'm capable of, especially over family. What you saw in the alley that night was nothing; a quick and easy kill. I can be ruthless with one trigger. I'm warning you. Do not test me by being intentionally late unless you're prepared for someone to possibly get hurt."

  I close my eyes and swallow; my mouth feeling like it's been scrubbed with cotton. It should scare the hell out of me that I get turned on when he talks like tha
t. His lips press against mine. My eyes open when they leave moments later. "Tell me you understand, beautiful, because the second you walk into that building and I can no longer see you the clock starts ticking."

  "Okay."

  He lets go of me and I push the door open, stepping out of the truck and shutting the door behind me. I walk as fast as my legs will move, checking the time on my phone as I pull the door open and step inside. It's a corridor of elevators lined against each wall to my side, the back a dead end. I press a button and wait for the doors to open. When it does there is a button for the main tower floor, so I press it.

  I step off on the first floor, immediately hearing the sounds of people talking, phones ringing, and sounds that confirm I've stepped into a corporate world. I look around, suddenly a little intimated. There is a sign that points in the direction of the tower elevator. I pull the envelope from my purse to confirm the suite number, even though I'm almost positive it's engrained in my memory now. Suite 6A. Just as I thought.

  A few turns and I'm standing at more elevators, pressing another button as if I'm stuck on repeat. Who in the hell would want to work at a place like this? I wonder if Kaston does. He did say he has a day job, yet I have barely heard anything about it. When I think of a PI firm I just envision a small building in a sketchy part of town, with a creeper mustache guy holding a camera out of a car window, trying to bust someone for an episode of Cheaters. Maybe I should ask more questions, because I would have never in a million years pictured someone that looks like him.

  The doors open and I step inside, along with several other people behind me. I reach over and hit the button labeled with a 6, and move to the corner to make room. I glance around at all the suits and pencil skirts, suddenly feeling out of place in my black jumpsuit and heels. The car has to stop on every damn floor, making me wish I had just found a set of stairs. Enclosed spaces with strangers put me on edge.