A Flaw So Beautiful

by Alora Kate

  “Where are they?” she asked full of rage coming down the hallway, wearing her pajamas.

  “What?” I asked, watching her go straight to the door.

  “My chains, Lincoln,” she seethed. “Where are my chains?”

  “I cut them.”

  She slapped one hand on the door and the other ran over the cut pieces hanging from the door and frame.

  I had royally fucked up.

  “Ashton, come here.”

  She wouldn’t move and wouldn’t talk, so I pushed away my pain and went to her. She fell into me sobbing, and I slowly slid us to the floor.

  “Why did you do that?” she asked sobbing into my t-shirt. “Why?

  “It’s not the first time.”

  “I was in a huge depression at the time and couldn’t think straight. Plus, Mike replaced them before I knew what he did.”

  “I was worried about you and I knew you wouldn’t let me in.”

  “My chains,” she sobbed more, gripping my shirt in her fists, “I need them, Linc.”

  “I’ll get new ones.”

  She pulled her forehead from my chest and looked at me. “Now. I need them now, Linc. You can’t do things like that.”

  “I’m sorry Ash, but you are more important to me than those chains.”

  “Those chains are important to me,” she cried.

  “We live in a secure building, and you have a deadbolt and a door lock.”

  “You don’t understand,” she hissed trying to push away, and I wrapped my arms tighter around her. “You can’t understand it. No one understands anything I do.”

  “Tell me.”

  “No.” She tried to push away again. “I need those chains fixed now before I completely lose it!”

  “You won’t lose it.”

  “They make me feel safe. I know they aren’t indestructible, but to me, it’s a layer of protection from the Devil. I feel like no one can get through those chains. Even though I hear his voice, or see him in my dreams, I feel like he can’t break those chains. I don’t want the Devil in here, Lincoln.”

  “I won’t let him or anyone else hurt you. Ever again.”

  “I need them,” she cried.

  “You need me.”

  She nodded. “I don’t like change. You can’t do things like that and not get a reaction from me.”

  I kissed her forehead before she laid it on my chest. “I don’t like feeling out of control,” she mumbled against my chest.

  “I’ll fix it.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, Ash. I should have waited.”

  “Why is life so hard?”

  “I’ve asked myself that question many times, and I still don’t have an answer. But I know life can be just as easy and wonderful as is it hard. We’re taking one day at a time.”

  “Just let me go.”

  She wanted to pass out, let the darkness take her from me, and she needed to fight it.

  “No. I told you I wouldn’t let you go. I told you I’d be your light, so fight it off. I’m right here.”

  “It’s just easier this way.”

  “I know it is Ashton, but it’s not the solution.”

  “There is no solution.”

  “Don’t say that.” I ran my hand through her hair. “Stop going there.”

  “My body is taking care of me.”

  She was completely relaxed into me.

  “There is nothing wrong with you, Ashton.”

  “Everything is wrong with me. I have good days Lincoln; I get my hopes up, and I do things that I never thought I’d ever do. I took you to counseling, I showed you my scars, and shared some of my past with you. I actually think we could date despite my issues with sex, but then something happens.” She looked away, almost as if she was a million lifetimes away from me and took a shuttering breath. “Something always happens to push me back down,” she said softly and slowly.

  I narrowed my eyes, furious with the Devil that broke her. “Then push back.”

  She sighed, “I’m not strong enough.”

  “Bullshit,” I ground out.

  She didn’t say anything so I gently pulled her head back so I could look into her eyes. “You are strong enough. How many times do I have to tell you this? Or Suzanne? Or your brother? You just have to fight, Ashton. You have to want to get better.”

  “I do,” she sniffed.

  “Prove it,” I blurted out, not realizing I might hurt her feelings, but I needed to be honest with her.

  “I know Natalie told you what I did after my father died. How I treated my mother and her, what I did to myself. I was a complete mess. I was drinking, smoking, and snorting anything I could find up my nose. I lied all the time, stole shit from everyone, and didn’t care about anyone, not even myself. My sister slowly started to pull me out and showed me how much they loved me and they never gave up on me. She wouldn’t stop helping or showing me that she loved me. So don’t tell me you aren’t strong enough because you are. I know we went through different experiences, and we can’t compare the two, but if I can do it, then you can do it. My past doesn’t haunt me like it haunts you. Yes, I have my bad days, but I’ve got more good ones that outweigh the shitty ones. I live for the good days. We were meant to find each other Ashton, to be together. I’m here to help you, to know you and start a life with you. A fresh new life.”

  I saw her blink a few times before she spoke again. “I still don’t understand.”

  I cupped her face and placed a soft kiss on her lips and whispered, “I love you, Ashton.”

  “You do?” she whispered back.

  I smiled and kissed her again. “I love the way you make me feel. When I’m with you, I feel like myself again. Like nothing bad ever happened to me. When I’m with you, I sleep. You soothe something inside me. I love it when you get to a pivotal point in a movie and you scoot closer to the edge of the couch and pull a stray hair over your shoulder and play with it. I loved that song you played for me, and I’m holding on Ash, I’m holding on until you let go.”

  “I don’t want to let go.”

  “Then open your eyes, your heart, and soul up to me and let me heal you.”

  This time she kissed me and a few minutes later, I had to break away because my leg wasn’t doing great.

  “Can we move to the couch and then pick up where we left off.”

  “Will you call Mike and get the chains?” she asked, standing up.

  “Yeah sweetheart, I will.”

  Chapter 22 - Ashton - A few weeks later

  “I’m very proud of you, Ashton,” Suzanne said, setting her notepad and pen down. “You’re almost there.”

  “What do you mean, almost?”

  She clasped her hands in her lap and gave me her full attention. “I’ve been telling you to do something for years now.”

  “I’m not doing that.”

  Suzanne looked over at Lincoln. “We’ve talked about it and came up with an idea.”

  I swung my head to Lincoln who had his leg up on her coffee table. It was getting better but he still needed the pain medicine, and of course, the crutches which meant Natalie drove us here today and that’s always fun.

  “You’re talking about me behind my back?”

  “For your recovery,” he replied.

  I stood from the couch and pointed at Suzanne. “I’m doing great! I feel like Lincoln is putting me back together again, one little piece at a time, even though I think that analogy is pointless and sounds stupid. But that’s what Lincoln says and I respect him, so I’m going with that. And, I’m trying to,” I used my hands to make air quotes, “‘take the curve in the road’ or whatever, and go a different path. A path that includes him.” I swung my arm to Lincoln.

  “I’m not denying that nor am I acting like the progress you’ve made over the last few weeks doesn’t count because it does. You’ve done amazing and I knew eventually you would, but you
still have something important to take care of.”

  “Why do I have to do that?”

  I walked around the back of the couch and raised my hands above my head. Doing this before my panic attacks hit me has helped a lot lately. It also warns Lincoln what’s about to happen and we can deal with it, together. He’s been great at talking me out of my panic attacks but I still slip away, and we all know I can’t be cured overnight.

  The darkness still wins sometimes, but at least I’m fighting it. Finally.

  And when I do slip away into the darkness and the painful silence it brings, I know Lincoln is around somewhere in the light. I can feel his presence all around me.

  He’s my light and my hope in the darkness.

  I looked over my shoulder at Suzanne. “I kiss him, Suzanne. On the lips! I’m making progress, so please don’t make me do that.”

  “I’m not making you do anything. I’m telling you this is going to push you over the edge, but in a good way. It’s going to be hard, and it’s going to hurt, but afterward you’ll feel better. It’ll help you move on and leave the past where it belongs, in the past.”

  “He’s dead! Dead! Dead! Dead! How the hell can I forgive the Devil when he’s rotting in Hell?” I dropped my arms. “He doesn’t deserve my forgiveness. He kidnapped me. He held me hostage in a concrete cell for three fucking years. He barely fed me. And when he thought I smelled bad, he’d toss a bucket of ice cold water on me. He never spoke English so I never knew what he was whispering in my ear when he raped me. Even though I had no sense of time, I know he raped me every day for three years. Several times a day! He took everything from me. Especially my innocence. My body. He took everything I was and ruined it.” I stopped to take a breath and when Suzanne opened her mouth to talk, I held my hand up. I wasn’t done. “He mutilated me. He cut me up like a rag doll, laughing as I screamed. He took my eye without even a thought. He took my baby…” I choked on the words, but I knew I had to get it all out. Taking a deep breath, I tried again. “He took my baby from me, unapologetically and ruthlessly. So, I will never, ever, forget it. So, enlighten me, Suzanne, why the fuck should I forgive him?”

  “Because of this.” She waved her hand towards me. “Anger.”

  “Hell yes, I’m angry!”

  “He doesn’t deserve your forgiveness Ashton, but you deserve it. You deserve to move on with your life and stop living in the past.”

  My breathing was very rigid and I held onto the couch to steady myself. I couldn’t even look at Lincoln. I just told myself he wasn’t there. He stays silent a lot of the times and I think it’s because he knows this is my space and time. He’s just there, waiting for me, supporting me, loving me unconditionally even though I feel like I don’t deserve it.

  “The anger you have inside of you isn’t healthy Ashton, and forgiving him will bring you the peace you’ve been wanting.”

  “Did you forgive him?” I said pointing to her face. “For that?”

  “Yes. And he isn’t dead.”

  My racing heart skipped a beat. “Where is he?”

  “He’s out on parole.”

  My jaw dropped. “Here?”

  “No. He’s far away, and it doesn’t bother me. He served the time the law thought he needed to serve and I know he didn’t have a good time in prison.” She smirked. “Haven’t you ever heard the saying, Karma’s a bitch?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well then, he got what he deserved, and I’ve moved on. I didn’t want the anger and hurt inside of me anymore, Ashton. It will suffocate you and slowly destroy you.”

  She was right but forgiving him was something I told myself I would never do.

  I’m afraid it was going to make me feel weak, like a coward.

  I was afraid it would mean that what happened during those three years never happened. And it happened. All of it happened.

  “Pretend he’s me.”

  My eyes went wide at Lincoln’s words.

  “Pretend I’m him, and forgive him.”

  “That’s stupid.”

  “No, it’s not,” Suzanne said sitting forward in her chair. “I think it will help you, it will mean something to you if you can say it to a live person. It will mean more.”

  “I can’t believe this crap.” I plopped down on her couch and brought me knees to my chest.

  “It was my idea,” Lincoln said.

  “Now I feel even worse.” I dropped my forehead to my knees and thought about forgiveness.

  One time, probably a year before I was kidnapped, Mike went to a party. Of course, I wasn’t invited, but I snuck out and went anyway. He saw me right away despite my efforts at trying to hide from him. He embarrassed me in front of everyone at the party when he drug me out of the house like a child and took me home. I was humiliated. It took me weeks to forgive him. Everyone knew what had happened even though he was in high school and I was in junior high. But after a few weeks, something else happened and my news was old news. People forgot and moved on, so I decided to forgive my brother. Plus, he made cookies several times a week, so that helped.

  The Devil wasn’t in Hell making me cookies, though.

  I could only hope he had been set on fire and repeatedly burned until he couldn’t take it anymore. Then, another match was lit, and because he was in Hell and it’s not like he could die again, he’d be burned again and again. He’d just suffer, day after day, week after week, for all eternity, just like I had.

  That’s what he deserved.

  I wanted him to feel pain.

  I wanted him to fear his life.

  And just knowing he couldn’t do anything to make the pain stop; that’s what I wished was happening to him.

  Does forgiving him mean I’m no longer in control? Or is he still controlling me because I’m letting fear and anxiety run my life?

  I just don’t know anymore.

  Every time I think I’m making sense, I realize I’m not.

  I was still fighting a war within myself.

  A war I was so tired of fighting.

  I’ve been told this so many times over the years, and it’s slowly starting to become a reality for me. I know it needs to be done. Deep down this could set me free. It could put me on the path to recovery. A path to happiness.

  Happiness with Lincoln.

  Someone that wanted to be my light. My rock.

  I slowly lifted my head up and they were both looking at me. “What?”

  “Just giving you time,” Suzanne said and I realized she wasn’t writing.

  “Why aren’t you writing?”

  “Sometimes I write, sometimes I don’t.”

  “You always write.”

  She shrugged a shoulder.

  “I know this needs to be done Suzanne, I know that but I just can’t get the words out.”

  “What if you wrote it down?” Lincoln asked.

  I felt bad for not sitting by him like I was pushing him away again, but I wasn’t. So, I slid over and he lifted his arm up and I scooted closer.

  I’ve noticed that sometimes he wears cologne and sometimes he doesn’t. The days he doesn’t, I get a soft hint of his soap. I preferred the light smell of mint over the cologne but I haven’t told him that.

  “I guess I could write it down,” I said tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

  Suzanne picked her notebook up along with the pen and handed it to me. “Here.”

  I tapped the pen on the paper then looked to Lincoln and saw his bright blue eyes were smiling at me. “You got this,” he said softly, giving me a side hug.

  Breathe in.

  And out.

  “You’re still holding on?” I asked softly and he nodded. “I’m holding on to something I’ll never let go of.”

  Total swoon… the girls say in the books I read, but this is real. Lincoln was a real man, with real feelings and he wanted me. He needs me as much as I need him.

  I turned back to t
he blank notepad. I would forgive him because I wanted a real relationship with Lincoln. I wanted to be able to go out on a date that includes leaving my building. I wanted to go shopping for clothes, for Lincoln, though, because I’m not ready to change that. Even going for a walk would be amazing once his leg was better. This was best for me but also for us. I wanted to keep moving forward with Lincoln.

  I hate you.

  You’re a sick, nasty bastard who deserves to rot in hell but I’m told if I forgive you that maybe I’d be free. Maybe I could set myself free by leaving you behind where you belong.

  So, I forgive you.

  But I will NEVER forget.

  NEVER!

  NEVER!

  NEVER!

  Now, leave me the fuck alone!

  “Do you mean it?” Suzanne asked after reading it.

  “Of course I do. He’s a sick bastard.”

  She held the notepad in her hand. “He is. But do you mean it?”

  “I think,” I said in my best Suzanne impersonation while catching my chin, “it’s a step in the right direction.”

  She set the notebook on the table. “I guess my work here is done.” And then stood which spiked my anxiety and had me on my feet.

  “Excuse me?”

  “My work here is done.”

  “You’re not leaving me.”

  “Ashton,” she said with a smile, “I’d never leave you.” She reached her arms out and I went to her.

  “This is going to be the first day of your new life,” she whispered in my ear. “Don’t let yourself down.”

  Chapter 23 - Lincoln - Weeks later

  “I proposed to your sister.”

  I whipped my head Nick’s way. He was sitting on my couch, far enough away so I couldn’t reach over and kill him. “Excuse me?”

  “She said yes.”

  “You’re joking, right?” I started to scoot over and he jumped off the couch, hitting his knee on the coffee table. I glanced at Ashton who stood in front of the window with her back to me and her arms up over her head. She only does this when Natalie is around because Natalie was always standing next to her doing the same thing. She never let Ashton feel uncomfortable or out of place, so it’s helped Ashton open herself up a little and decreased her anxiety a little each day.