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Disillusioned

Page 8

by J. S. Cooper


  I lay back, body heaving and brain racing dangerously close to the brink of insanity. All of a sudden, I was feeling panicky. Was I really ready to play this game? It didn’t feel like a game anymore. It didn’t feel like I was in control. The endorphins that had taken over my brain and led me to sleeping with Jakob once again were leaving faster than they’d arrived, and I felt as if I were in bed with the enemy. An enemy my body didn’t want to acknowledge existed. My brain, though, couldn’t forget that Jakob was Mattias and he was playing a game with me. A dangerous game, and if I wasn’t careful, I would never win.

  “You give me fever.” He grabbed my hand and held it to his forehead. “Being with you gives me fever like I’ve never felt before.”

  “Isn’t that a song?” I whispered as I gazed into his eyes, my body instantly wanting to trust him again, but my brain reminding me to stay on track. I was doing this for a reason. I could control my heart and my body as long as I focused.

  “I don’t know. Is it?” He brought my hand down to his lips and kissed it lightly.

  “We need to talk, Jakob.” I rolled over. “I want the truth.”

  “All I want is to flip you upside down and take you again.” He fingers played with my belly button and then he jumped out of the bed. “I need to use the restroom.”

  “Okay.” I nodded and stared at his tight butt as he walked across the room. My body started trembling as I lay there, and not from sexual excitement. This was wrong on so many levels. I was confused on so many levels. Staring at a naked Jakob was heaven and hell, and I didn’t know if he was an angel here to save me or a devil waiting to pull me into the pit of fire.

  “I’ll be right back.” He opened the door. “And then we can get back to business.”

  “One thing first: How did you get into my apartment?”

  “I have a key.” He closed the door.

  And I took a deep breath and made my decision.

  six

  No one will ever say I should go to the Olympics. I’m not someone who could win a hundred-meter dash, but as soon as Jakob went into the bathroom, I jumped out of bed so quickly that I’d have given Usain Bolt a run for his money. I wedged my desk chair in front of the bathroom door, threw on some sweatpants, a shirt, and a jacket, grabbed my handbag and phone, and ran out the door. I didn’t want to leave. My body was still trembling in remembrance of the magic it had just experienced, but I was more confused than ever.

  I didn’t trust myself around Jakob. He hadn’t told me anything new, yet I hadn’t been able to resist him. I was putty in his hands. For all I knew, this was part of his game. Maybe this was why he’d let me go. He wanted me to trust him. He wanted me to think that I had nothing to fear from him. Maybe he was conditioning me so that he could gain my trust and get what he was really after. The problem was, I didn’t know what he was really after and I was beginning to fall under his spell again; not that I was sure I’d ever left it. I needed to be stronger than this. This had to be the last mistake I made trusting him—and sleeping with him. I couldn’t afford to let my heart lead me anymore.

  I ran out of the building and into the street, hurrying into a crowd of people. All of a sudden sadness crept into my soul. I didn’t feel as if I’d made the right move, but I knew staying wouldn’t have been right either. The grief inside me had become an empty void. My stomach growled, but I wasn’t hungry. I didn’t want to continue on this journey, but I felt like it was too late to turn back. I was being played and also trying to play my own games and I was so caught up that I didn’t know what way was right any more. My weakness for Jakob was only going to make everything more difficult. I’d started this journey by myself and I needed to rely on myself. That look in his eyes, in David’s—that wasn’t love, that wasn’t adoration. It was lust and desire. And lust and desire were cheap and commonplace emotions. If I was going to continue searching for the truth, I needed to be stronger, harder, more focused. And I needed to figure out exactly how far I was willing to go. I’d already crossed a line I’d never thought I’d cross when I’d calculatingly slept with Jakob. I needed to make sure that whatever decisions I made moving forward were going to be ones I could live with.

  I pulled out my phone and called the only person I could. The only person who could advise me without having an agenda.

  “Hey, Bianca,” Rosie answered on the second ring. “Where are you?”

  “Walking down the street. Want to get a drink?”

  “Oh, I would, but I still have my date tonight.”

  “Oh, right.” I wanted to ask Rosie if her date was more like a booty call, but I didn’t want to be rude.

  “I can cancel though, if you need me.”

  “No, no, don’t cancel. When am I going to meet him?” I asked softly.

  “Soon, I hope.” Rosie sighed. “We had a bit of an argument. I’m not sure it’s going to work out. We’re meeting late tonight to discuss the future of our relationship.”

  “Oh no, why?”

  “You know me, I have trust issues.” She sounded short. “He isn’t like most guys.”

  “Oh?”

  “Well, he’s rich and powerful and he doesn’t like to listen to women.” She paused. “Though of course he listens to me.”

  “As he should.” He sounds like an asshole already.

  “Where are you?” Rosie sounded confused. “Where have you been?”

  “I’m taking a walk. I think I’ll go to the university library.”

  “Oh, why?”

  “Research.”

  “On what? Did you speak to Larry Renee again?”

  “No, I didn’t. He . . .” I paused.

  “He what?” she asked, sounding very interested in my answer.

  “He didn’t have much to say the first time we spoke.”

  “Oh, that’s good.”

  “That’s good?”

  “I mean it’s good that there’s not more craziness going on. It’s good that you know all there is to know.”

  “Yeah, but do I? What do I really know?” My voice rose as I crossed the street, dodging a yellow cab as I jaywalked. “Screw you too!” I shouted back at the driver.

  “What’s going on, Bianca?” Rosie sounded anxious. “Are you sure you don’t want me to cancel? I totally wouldn’t mind.”

  “Rosie, no, you can’t cancel. I won’t let you. Have your talk with your guy and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “I’m worried about you, Bianca. You haven’t been the same since your dad died.”

  “That’s what happens when you lose a parent.”

  “Yes, I suppose it is.” Rosie’s voice was a monotone. “I guess I don’t know what that’s like. I don’t remember my dad, and, well, my mom is still around.”

  “It’s hard.” I sighed. “I wish now that I’d asked more questions. I wish I knew more about his past. I wish I’d tried to reach him on a deeper level instead of just accepting that he was depressed over my mother’s death.”

  “I suppose he felt guilty.”

  “You think so?”

  “I mean it was his fault, right?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. I guess most people blame themselves when a loved one dies.”

  “Yeah, it was like he died while he was still alive.” Tears rolled down my face as I walked aimlessly, no longer caring where I was going.

  “I guess that’s what happens when you love too hard. You become broken when you lose them.”

  “I never want to love that hard.”

  “Me either.” Rosie’s voice was strong. “I’m not going to let any man ruin my life.”

  “It’s hard though, isn’t it? It’s hard not to let someone get too close.”

  “You really liked Mattias, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.” I gulped. “I really did.”

  “Have you heard from him since you’ve been back?”

  “No.” I stopped outside a bodega.

  “Do you want to see him?”
/>   “I want answers, so maybe.”

  “That’s not the right answer, Bianca. You can’t see him! Who knows what he’d do? Especially if he still wants something from you. Especially if you don’t want to go to the police.”

  “I just don’t know what I’d say to the police,” I whispered into the phone. “Would they even believe me?”

  “I don’t know, Bianca. I don’t know what you’d tell them. Mattias Bradley, the CEO of one of the biggest corporations in the world, kidnapped me and then flew me home and I don’t know why.”

  “Yeah.” I closed my eyes. “They’d laugh me out of the precinct.” I took a deep breath. “Hey, I’m about to head into the subway. I’ll call you later, okay?”

  “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Bianca. Stay safe.”

  I hung up the phone, my heart pounding as I tried to figure out what to do next. I couldn’t go home, not with Jakob there—and not with his having a key. I’d have to get the locks changed. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I knew that he’d be angry that I’d escaped. I was in a maze and had no idea how to get out. The events of the past week were leading me in one direction, but all I could see were the walls. There still seemed to be no clear path out of this mess. I was angry and upset and so, so sad. I had nowhere to go and no one to talk to. I was all alone. I missed my dad. I mean really missed him. And more than that, I missed the lost opportunities that I had had with him.

  I’d never fought for a better relationship. I’d never tried to cross that line to have a deeper, more significant relationship with him. I’d accepted his pain and lived with it. I’d occupied my mind with other things. Felt love and acceptance in other ways. I’d experienced the love of a father in movies. I’d experienced the childhood I’d always wanted by watching Meet Me in St. Louis. I had been Judy Garland, I had the caring and protective parents, the wonderful sisters, the next-door neighbor that made my heart clamor, I was on the trolley singing about the ringing and the dinging of the bell. I was happy in those moments. I was a part of something. That was the life I’d grown up with. It wasn’t real and it wasn’t mine, but I felt the heartache and the love and it was as if it were mine. It had been enough. Just like my favorite book, Homecoming, by Cynthia Voigt. I’d read that book every year since I was ten years old. The sadness and the loneliness of the Tillerman children was my own, and while I didn’t have the siblings, I had the feelings. I was on that journey, looking for home. I’d always been on that journey. I’d just never acknowledged it.

  “Hey, girl, you okay?” An old black man standing by a trash can looked at me with wide eyes.

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “You homeless?” He looked at me knowingly.

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Don’t let them boys up at the corner recruit you.” He reached into his pocket. “It ain’t the way. Don’t get in no strange cars.”

  “I’m not going to get into any strange cars.”

  “Them men be sick. Some of them look sane, but, girl, they be sick.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You too good a girl to become a prostitute.”

  “I’m not going to become a prostitute, sir.” I wiped the tears from my eyes and tried not to laugh.

  “Why you crying?” He handed me some gum. “You wanna piece?”

  “No thanks.” I shook my head, but he kept his hand held out, so I took a piece. “Thank you.”

  “It’s Juicy Fruit.” He grinned. “Juicy Fruit always makes you feel better.”

  “Thank you.” I unwrapped the paper and started to chew it. The sweetness of the gum invaded my shroud of sadness and I started to feel a bit more like myself again.

  “It’s a cold world out there.” He looked up and down the street. “Look around you, girl, all these people with all this money, but who’s really happy?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged and looked around me. People were walking quickly in their suits, looking important and just as lonely as me.

  “Everyone got somewhere to go. Somewhere to be. Everyone’s in a hurry, but you know what? When they get home, there’s no one there waiting. There’s no one there caring. All that money, all that power, it don’t mean nothing in the end.”

  “But people will do anything for money.” My voice cracked. “They’ll even kill people.”

  “You got some loan sharks after you?” He frowned. “You got the Mafia on your tail?”

  “Oh no, nothing like that.”

  “Them people ain’t no good. They’ll kill you or cut off your hand to make an example of you.”

  “I don’t have the Mafia after me.” I gave him a big smile and wiped my eyes. My tears had completely dried up.

  “Your boyfriend just break up with you?”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend.” I shook my head. “There’s a guy I like, but I don’t know . . .” Why did I say that?

  “Let me give you some advice, girl. If he’s for you, if he loves you, he’ll show you. Don’t chase no man.”

  “He kidnapped me.”

  “He what?” His eyes widened again. “He don’t sound like the man for you.”

  “It’s a long story.” I sighed. “I don’t even know what to believe anymore.”

  “I’m going to give you some advice.” He came closer to me. “The truth is never what you expect. Go back to the beginning. Go sit somewhere quiet and think about everything. Look up at the stars or the moon and just think. The answers will come.”

  “I don’t know if the answers will come just like that. This situation is complicated.” I wished it were that easy, but I was pretty sure I’d need to be high on mushrooms or something for the answers to come from the sky.

  “Life is as complicated as we make it, child. You believe in God?”

  “I don’t know.” I bit my lower lip, feeling guilty and ashamed. “I think so.”

  “Girl, you go pray to God for some guidance and answers. He’ll put you on the right path.”

  “Thank you, I’ll do that.” I smiled at him. “Thank you for talking to me. You’ve made me feel better.”

  “We all in this together, girl.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled at him again and turned to go down the street. “I really needed to talk to someone tonight.”

  “Anytime, girl. I’m here every day.” He grinned and nodded toward the pile of clothes next to me. My heart caught as I realized he lived here. He lived in the street. He was homeless. “You need any money?” He pulled some dollars out of his pocket and handed them to me. “It’s not much, but it’s all I have.”

  “Oh no, I couldn’t.” I was horrified and touched by his offer. “No, thank you, though. Thank you and God bless you.”

  “We all got to look out for each other, girl.” He looked at me thoughtfully. “You ain’t never alone, remember that.”

  “Thank you.” I gave him a quick hug. “Thank you. Sometimes I feel like I’m all by myself, but you’ve made me remember that I can’t just dwell on my sorrow and regrets.”

  “It ain’t worth it.” His eyes crinkled at me. “Trust me, girl. It ain’t worth it.”

  “You’ll have to tell me your story one day.”

  “Henry.” He gave me a small bow.

  “I’m Bianca, Henry.”

  “Good to meet you, Miss Bianca.” He grinned. “Now you get you home before some not-so-nice guy tries to take advantage of your big brown eyes.”

  “I’m going to come back.” I stared at him. “I’m going to come back to see you.” And bring you some money when I have it.

  “I look forward to it.”

  I walked back down the street away from Henry, feeling a different kind of sadness. For once, my thoughts weren’t on myself. For once, I was reminded that a whole big world was out there and I was still a part of it. The world didn’t revolve around the Bradley brothers and their drama. It didn’t even revolve around my father and his inventions or my mother’s death. I could move on and just forget about it. Only
I knew I couldn’t. Not after everything. I needed answers. I needed to find Larry.

  Beep beep.

  Where are you?

  I had to leave.

  And lock me in?

  Sorry.

  I could have left.

  I didn’t want you to try and convince me to let you stay.

  I’m leaving now so you can come home.

  I don’t trust you.

  I’m the most trustworthy person you know.

  Says the kidnapper.

  Don’t trust anyone, Bianca. Don’t talk to David.

  I don’t and I won’t.

  Tell me where you are. There are some things you should know. This is for your own good.

  No thanks. I don’t trust you.

  You can trust me. It’s the others you shouldn’t trust.

  Why should I trust you?

  I was just in your bed.

  Sex doesn’t equal trust.

  Methinks someone wants me back in her bed.

  Methinks you have the wrong century, Shakespeare.

  Did Shakespeare coin methinks?

  Jakob.

  I like it when you text my name, though I prefer when you scream it.

  I’m surprised you haven’t asked me to call you Mattias.

  Tyler Durden.

  Huh?

  Figure it out.

  Figure what out? Tyler Durden from Fight Club? What does that have to do with anything?

  What I told you before is true.

  What are you talking about?

  You watch movies right?

  Yes, so what?

  Figure out Tyler. It’s the only clue I can give you for now. And even that’s too much.

  So what did you tell me?

  I told you your mom wasn’t an innocent.

  His next text was a photograph of a woman and man in bed, naked and laughing. They looked wild and illicit.

  What is this? I texted back as my phone let out a warning beep.

  My dad and your mom. Just as his last text arrived, my phone died. I bit down on my lower lip as I tried to picture the lady’s face in the photo. I was almost positive that wasn’t my mom. Why did he think it was? Did he blame my mom for his father’s cheating and making his mother unhappy? Was this what all of this had been about after all? I had no idea who the lady in the photo was, and now my phone was dead and I couldn’t even let him know.

 

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