Branded

by Tara Sivec

  Over and over she smacks her lips against mine and I finally open my eyes.

  “I’m real, I love you, I’m so sorry,” she repeats in between kisses.

  Even though I don’t want to, I move back from her lips, just enough to really look at her. Her hands stay on my cheeks and she holds my head in place, staring into my eyes. I see the flecks of gold in her eyes and the tiny black ring around the green. I see every freckle on her nose and I feel her breath floating against my mouth.

  My arms move on their own until my hands are cupping her head. I tilt her face up and turn it slightly from side to side, looking at her chin, her cheeks and her lips. I see a horrible purple bruise under her left eye that I know I wouldn’t imagine if she were a dream and suddenly, everything she went through last night and survived makes me equal parts horrified and grateful.

  “Oh, my God,” I whisper, sliding one hand down the side of her face, the warmth of her skin telling me that this is not a dream, it’s not some fucking illusion. It’s real. She’s real.

  I trace my fingertips over her eyebrow, her nose, her flushed cheek and her lips. I touch each part of her that I can’t stop staring at.

  She moves her hands away from my face and presses them to the top of mine, pushing my palms more firmly against her cheeks.

  “Do you feel that?” she whispers. “I’m real. I’m right here and I’m okay.”

  A strange mixture of a sob and a laugh flies out of my mouth and I quickly lean forward and kiss her. I laugh and cry against her lips and she moves closer, crawling onto my lap and wrapping her legs around my waist. I feel the weight of her on my lap, the strength of her thighs squeezing around my hips and the warmth of her body so close to mine and I finally let go of the last of my doubt.

  “I thought I lost you. How is this happening?” I ask her as I rest my forehead against hers and her thumbs gently rub back and forth over the top of my hands that are still pressed against her cheeks.

  “I’m so sorry, DJ. You have no idea how sorry I am that I put you through this,” she cries softly.

  “Shhhh, it’s okay, baby. Please don’t cry. Just let me keep touching you to make sure you’re real,” I tell her softly, trying not to cry like a fucking baby right along with her.

  I run one hand through her hair over and over, letting the soft strands tangle with my fingers. I run my palm against her cheek again, careful of the bruise, down her neck, over her collarbone and rest it against her heart. I feel it beating strongly and I finally let my own start beating again right along with it.

  DJ easily lifts me up into his arms and carries me into the house and up to his bedroom. I’ve apologized to him so many times, but it will never be enough. The anguish and torture I witnessed on his face out on his front porch almost killed me. I did that to him. This strong, amazing man…I brought him to his knees and it hurts everything inside of me.

  He gently puts me on my feet at the edge of the bed and we undress each other without any words. There’s so much I need to say to him, but right now it needs to wait. He needs this reassurance that I’m here and I need his comfort and his love to take away all the pain.

  With the bright afternoon sun streaming through his bedroom window, he peels off all of my clothes, kissing his way up and down my body as he goes. For the first time, I don’t try to hide my hips from him. I let him stare at me as he pulls my underwear down my legs and I’m not ashamed when he runs his palms over the scars. I’m standing naked in the bright light, in front of a man and I’m letting him see all of me. It doesn’t matter that he saw everything the other night because it was wrong then. I pushed him to look so that I could push him away because I didn’t feel like I was worthy of him.

  I finally believe that I deserve this. I deserve to be happy and nothing makes me happier than having his hands on my body and his lips on my skin.

  He lifts me up into his arms again and then lays me down on top of the bed, quickly covering me with his body. He kisses every place on my face that he can reach while I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him closer. He enters me slowly and I sob against the side of his neck when he’s finally right where he belongs. We fit so perfectly together that I don’t know how I lived my life before he came back into it.

  He moves against me and I lift my hips to meet him. We rock together slowly until I have no idea where he begins and I end, like a perfect circle. Everything about this moment is perfection and I never want it to end. When he’s inside me, I let go of everything that causes me pain and let him fill me with everything that brings me joy. He is my heart, my soul and my reason for breathing and I tell him that over and over each time he pushes into me.

  “You are everything to me…everything,” he whispers against my lips.

  “I love you,” I reply, wrapping my arms tighter around his body.

  He kisses me and never stops, continuing the unhurried movements as I pull him deeper inside of me. The build is slow and perfect, my release climbing at an unhurried pace until my scalp starts to tingle and it works its way down my body and flows out of me. It’s magic and bliss all rolled into one big wave of pleasure that makes me feel like I’m floating on a cloud.

  He pulls his mouth away from mine to stare down into my eyes as he follows right behind me, breathing my name and words of love when he comes.

  “Don’t ever leave me again,” he whispers against my lips.

  “Don’t ever let me go,” I whisper back.

  “I should have been there,” he tells me as we lie naked in bed facing one another, our arms and legs tangled around each other.

  I’ve spent the last twenty minutes telling him what happened, ending with my time in the hospital, and I hate that he feels even an ounce of guilt.

  “Stop, you had no way of knowing. I hate that you had to see what you did. I hate that you thought the worst.”

  He sighs, pulling me closer until every inch of our bodies are touching. His chest is pressed against mine and I feel his heart beat thumping against me.

  “How’s your cheek? And your wrists? Fuck! I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks in a horrified voice, pulling back slightly to run his fingers over the white bandages covering the rope burns on my wrists.

  Pulling my hands away from him, I wind them around his neck and pull him back closer. “I’m fine, I promise.”

  He sighs, resting his chin on top of my head. “I still can’t believe your dad got you out of there. I can’t even imagine what you’re feeling right now.”

  I shrug as he rolls to his back, pulling me with him. I rest my cheek against his chest.

  “I don’t know what I’m feeling. I was so scared after I got out of that house I just didn’t want to think about it. I keep seeing his face through the fire, telling me he loved me and he was sorry. I hate that I feel bad that he died like that.”

  “You can’t feel bad about what he did, Phina. He made a choice and he chose you over himself for once. He chose your happiness instead of his own. It doesn’t make up for all the shit he did to you, but it’s okay to be sad about losing him. No matter what kind of a father he was for all those years, he was still your father. He was a part of your life and a part of your blood. In the end, he finally did right by you,” DJ tells me softly.

  I snuggle into him and wrap my arms around his waist.

  “Listen, I need to get a few things off my chest, so I want you to just lay there and be quiet for a few seconds,” he says suddenly.

  I smile against him and let him continue.

  “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did when I got to your house after Finnley’s accident.”

  I quickly lift my head and open my mouth to protest, but he places his finger against my lips.

  “Shush. I said no talking,” he tells me with a smile.

  I raise my eyebrow at him in irritation, but he keeps his finger pressed firmly against my mouth.

  “I’m a dick. I reacted without thinking, and I should have known something else was going on.
I know I didn’t say the words you wanted to hear and that snowballed into you being hurt and lashing out. So, I’m saying the words now. I love you. I love every part of you. I don’t care if you have scars on your body from someone else or from your own hands. None of it matters to me. Whatever happens, I’m not going anywhere. The only thing that matters is that you talk to me. You tell me if you have the urge to do something like that. I might not know what the fuck to do, but I’m not going to walk away. I will help you and I will be here for whatever you need.”

  I blink back tears, reaching up to gently remove his finger from my lips.

  “Can I speak now?”

  He laughs nervously before nodding his head.

  “I had a problem.”

  I think about that for a minute and then shake my head.

  “Correction, I have a problem. I haven’t done it since before we got together, but it’s always there in the back of my mind, even if I don’t have the urge to do it. I wasn’t angry with you about the things you said. I knew what your reaction would be and I knew what conclusion you would jump to. I was angry with myself for being so weak and for doing whatever I could to push you away,” I explain.

  He brings my hand up to his lips and kisses my palm, but he knows I need to keep going so he stays silent.

  “I don’t even know what made me start doing it exactly. One day I just felt so much pressure and so much anger and I needed to release it. I was banging around the kitchen and I burned my hand on the stove. It just… did something to me. The pain in my hand made me forget about the pain in my mind. I did that a few times whenever I felt my anger brewing inside of me, but Finnley started to notice the blisters on my fingers and she asked questions that I didn’t know how to answer.”

  I take a deep breath and look away from DJ to trace circles with my fingertip onto his chest.

  “I decided to start hiding what I was doing. The most logical place was on my hips where no one would ever see it. That’s why I’ve always kept my underwear on or the lights off during sex. I did whatever I could to hide what I did. I was ashamed, but that didn’t stop me from doing it. Pain got confused with pleasure. It made the anger go away and it helped me breathe. I felt so constricted and so torn up, and burning myself was the only thing that gave me any relief.”

  I finally look up at him and shrug. “It’s pretty fucked up considering that’s how I spent most of my childhood. The exact thing I feared and hated growing up turned out to be the only thing I could do to make the fear and the hate go away.”

  DJ leans forward and kisses me. “I wish you would have told me. I wish I would have known.”

  I shrug again, resting my chin on my hand against his chest. “No one knew. I never even told Finnley. Like I said, I was embarrassed, especially with you. I didn’t want you to look at me and see how messed up I was.”

  He shakes his head. “You’re not messed up and I would never think that.”

  “I AM messed up, but it’s okay. I’m going to get help. I’m going to talk to someone. Even though I don’t have the urge to do it anymore, I want to make sure I never do again. I want to be good for you, I want to be a whole, healed person for you.”

  He wraps his arm around me and hugs me tightly. “I just want you to know, you’re already perfect for me. Everything about you is exactly what I need, but if this is something you need, I fully support it. Don’t do it for me, do it for yourself.”

  I smile up at him. “I love you, Drake Jefferson Taylor. I will do it for myself, I promise. You put a mark on my heart that will never go away. You branded me with your love and I know it’s the only thing I’ll ever need to keep the pain away.”

  “A mark on your heart, huh? So it’s sort of like I pissed on my territory,” he says with a laugh.

  I smack his chest and laugh with him. “You’re an ass!”

  He moves quickly, flipping me over onto my back and resting his body between my thighs. “I’m your ass, my little Fireball, and you’re stuck with me. I just need you to promise me one thing.”

  I slide my hands through his hair and feel him harden as he presses himself against me. The smile slips from his face and he looks down at me seriously.

  “Never, ever die on me again. My heart can’t take losing you a second time.”

  I look up at him, this man who fought for me, believed in me and saved me from myself. I look at him and I know that I’m the luckiest woman on earth.

  “I promise,” I whisper softly as me slips inside of me. “No more dying, no more branding, nothing but this.”

  He moves inside of me and I sigh in relief, having him right where I need him.

  “This is all I need to breathe,” I whisper.

  Six months later…

  “I can’t do this anymore,” DJ tells me in a frustrated voice.

  I put my hands on my hips and glare at him. “Yeah? Well, I can’t either!”

  He throws his hands in the air and stomps away from me while I cross my arms in front of me waiting for him to say more. I just know he wants to say more. Clearly, he hasn’t pissed me off enough in the last hour.

  “You can’t keep doing this to me. It’s killing me. KILLING ME!” he shouts to the wall.

  “Oh, my God, quit being so dramatic.”

  He whirls around and stomps back to me, grabbing the binder from the counter on his way. He holds it in front of me and stabs at the open page.

  “Five times. FIVE FUCKING TIMES you’ve changed the backsplash in this kitchen and now you’re telling me that THIS is the one you have to have.”

  I stare longingly at the Tuscan marble tile that he’s pointing to and sigh. “It’s so beautiful.”

  He growls, tossing the binder back on top of the counter. “The crosshatch silver was gorgeous, the Murano Mosaic was stunning and the brushed nickel was…I forget, what was the brushed nickel again?” he asks in annoyance.

  “Complimentary to the appliances,” I reply through clenched teeth.

  “Killing me. Motherfucking killing me,” he mutters before pulling his phone out of his pocket and calling the contractor.

  I smile in victory, bouncing over to him to kiss his cheek while he tells the contractor that I’ve changed my mind. Again. He smacks my ass when I turn away and head out onto the front porch.

  Flopping down on one of the Adirondack chairs, I kick my feet up on the railing and look out at the yard.

  The last few months have been a whirlwind of emotions. I started seeing a new psychologist and I really like her. I still see her once a week and she’s helped me get to the root of my issues and learn how to transfer the anger and hatred I sometimes feel into something healthier. I go outside and scream, I take a walk or I beat the shit out of the heavy bag DJ hung in the garage. Most importantly, I talk to him about everything. Nothing is held back, and he always knows what’s going on in my mind and my heart. He even accompanies me to some of my appointments so he can learn about my problem and understand how to help.

  I thought telling DJ everything was hard, but it was nothing compared to telling my best friend. Finnley cried silently when I told her about my burning addiction and how I’d used it to cope through the years. She had a hard time forgiving my father once she knew the extent of his abuse, but she knew I wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for him. It felt good to finally confide in her and I know our friendship is stronger because of it.

  I’m still working at the hospital after a short medical leave and taking time to bury my father. DJ is still working full time as a paramedic, telling me he might go back to the fire department in time, but for right now he’s happy where he’s at. When he has to transport someone to my hospital, he always sends me a text on the way so I can meet him downstairs for a quick kiss. He tells me it’s because he can’t get enough of me, but I know a part of him still thinks about that day on his front porch when he couldn’t believe I was alive. Even six months later, he still needs the reassurance that I’m here, I’m okay and I’m real.
/>
  As I stare out at the trees around the property, I think about our future, once so uncertain, but now so perfectly clear. It might seem like the strangest decision to a lot of people, but it felt right to me. The land my childhood home was built on transferred over to me after my father died, and when the attorney called to ask me what I wanted to do with it, I knew the answer immediately. I would rebuild on this land, the one that housed all of my nightmares, and with DJ by my side, I would make new, better memories. I would erase all the sins of my past and I would start over with a clean slate.

  “We might have to hire a new contractor,” DJ tells me as he joins me outside and sits down in the chair next to mine. “He made me promise him that this would be the last time you change your mind about the backsplash.”

  I smile over at him. “This will definitely be the last time.”

  “Oh, thank God,” he groans.

  “I’m not so sure about the tile in the bathroom, though.”

  He stares me down for a few seconds while I fight to hold back a laugh. He leans across the arms of our chairs and rests his hands on my huge stomach and puts his mouth right against it. “Your mother is killing me. Do you hear me, Shaleh? I hope you appreciate the shitty Italian marble in the kitchen when you get here.”

  When we found out we were having a girl, we chose the name Shaleh because it means flame. She was conceived in the midst of fiery, all-consuming passion, so it seemed fitting. We’ll most likely never tell her that, though.

  I smack the back of his head. “Language! We don’t want our daughter’s first word to be s-h-i-t-t-y.”

  He grins at me, lifting away from my stomach to kiss me. “She’s your daughter, her first word will probably be f-u-c-k.”

  “Speaking of f-u-c-k,” he continues. “They delivered the bed earlier, how about you and I go test it out.”

  I run my fingers through his hair and smile. “I think that can be arranged. Go on upstairs and I’ll meet you there in a minute.”