Jeremy has this perfect image of her in his head. An image shaped by the childhood he spent by her side. Charles told me she was the only one to ever show him affection. That made her all the more precious to him.
Memories formed in childhood are the hardest to cast away. Impossible, really. They come from a time when you are most impressionable, when your view of the world is not your own but that of your parents.
So whatever Jeremy might expect from me, I can never come close to matching her perfection, her splendor. It exists in a void that time and events cannot touch. It exists solely in Jeremy’s mind.
I don’t want to be here anymore.
I pull Jeremy’s hand. “Darling, come away,” I say. The voice that emerges is scarcely my own. “Come with me. Let’s go to bed.”
Jeremy, transfixed by the painting, does not even hear me.
“She’s just as I remember,” he says, his speech far away and distant. “This is who she was.”
A little bit of wild terror comes to life inside me, hearing the old bitterness of his words.
“My sweet…”
“No!” Jeremy rips his hand from mine. It’s a savage motion. “You can go if you want, Lilly. Leave me be. You cannot imagine the courage it’s taken for me to show her to you. If you cannot appreciate that…” He turns his head to me, and finishes in a viscous snarl, “then you’re no better than him.”
I do not need to ask to know who “him” is. It’s obvious.
Jeremy’s father.
I want to leave. But, I can feel that this is a pivotal moment for me and Jeremy. Whatever happens now, whatever either of us will do next, will remain firmly planted in his head and define the relationship that we have until the very end.
So I swallow my fear, fight past my own discomfort, and do what I would want him to do for me, were I in his shoes.
I step up to Jeremy and place my hands on his back. I rub his shoulders, slowly, and lean my head against his arm.
And to my immense gratification, I feel him soften beneath me.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “It’s just—emotions, Lilly. Emotions I have no experience dealing with. They’re all coming up, now. I cannot stop them.”
“Then don’t,” I tell him slowly. “Just know that, whatever happens, I won’t abandon you. I won’t leave you be.”
He places his hand over mine. “Thank you,” he says.
We stay like that, together yet apart, content in the silence wrapping us like two glaciers floating by each other in an otherwise empty sea. It’s only when Jeremy stirs, with no provocation from me, that the spell is finally lifted.
“Come then,” he says, brushing a kiss over my knuckles. “Let me tell you about her.”
Chapter Three
Downstairs, Jeremy begins his tale.
“This house once belonged to my father,” he says, leading me down the steps. “It was our winter home. We would come here every year for the holidays.
“I always loved the trip. Something about the vastness of the castle called to me. We lived lavishly at home. But home was…well, it was ordinary. It was familiar. Coming here for a few weeks in December was like a trip to fantasyland.
“It was magical, Lilly, when viewed through the eyes of a young boy. My best memories are from when I was five, six, or seven. They’re just fragments, of course. But I can feel the warmth. I still remember the sensation that seeing the castle rise up in the distance evoked.
“That was when I still had a flawed and partial understanding of the world.
“I was born last, as I told you before. The age gap between me and my older brothers was enormous. It was an unnavigable gulf. I did not see it as such at the time, but they did.
“They did not feel attached to me the way I did them. I was a nuisance—a cat to spit upon when I came too close. Naïve as I was and yet still hopeful, I could never fault my brothers for what they did. I loved them, and their behavior toward me was simply…ordinary. I thought it was normal.
“Of course, much of their resentment stemmed from my father. He had no qualms telling them quite clearly how little he thought of me. That is where they learned their behavior.
“My mother, as all good mothers do, shielded me from the worst. In fact, for the first seven or eight years of my life, I did not know anything was truly wrong.
“But my brothers’ cruelty became worse as the years passed. They did it with full immunity because my father did not mind. If anything, I think he praised them for it. He thought it would help me grow up tough.
“It might be hard to imagine, Lilly. But I was small, and scrawny, growing up. Physical grace and a strong presence did not come naturally to me.” He gives a humorless laugh. “They are things I had to learn.”
I think back to all Charles had told me—all the things Jeremy does not know I know—and have a more complete picture of Jeremy Stonehart, as a young boy.
“But that is not what I want to tell you about. It is not my struggle that matters. It is hers. Besides…“ He pauses to pour himself a glass of scotch. “…I endured much, much worse in my teenage years.”
There’s that allusion again. The mere mention of something having gone horribly wrong before he was a man. He spoke of it once before, when he warned me about suppressing the feelings I have about my time by the pillar. It has since stood out in my mind as something very central to who he became as a man.
I want to ask him about it. I intend to ask him about it. But not now. Now, the best thing for me to do is simply listen.
“This home has good memories,” he says, “and bad. It is here where I first witnessed my mother’s abuse at my father’s hands.
“I heard him yelling through the walls. It frightened me. When my father yelled, it meant he was truly angry. There was no telling what he might do.
“He took pleasure inflicting pain on living things, I think. It is a trait he’s carried his whole life. He passed it on to my brothers. But, unlike them—and despite what you might think—it did not pass onto me.
“Sometimes things like that are…” Jeremy’s lips twitch. “…necessary. Unfortunately so, but necessary nonetheless. Don’t get me wrong, Lilly. I’m well aware of what I’ve done. But let’s just say that if, instead, you had found yourself in the hands of either of my older brothers, or Hugh…“ His voice takes on a grave severity. “…you would not be alive today.”
A fuller understanding of just how dire my situation was settles over me.
“Does it discomfort you, the ease with which I can talk about such things?” Jeremy asks. His eyes have taken on that deep, searching, penetrating quality again.
I shake my head, a tad roughly. “No,” I say. Then I bite my lip and admit, “At least, not really. Not anymore. I expect it from you, Jeremy. I know it’s your attempt to desensitize me to the topic.”
“Smart,” Jeremy muses. “Smart, as always. Good for you, then. I’m glad. It simplifies things for the future.
“Anyway. My father and I have a long, twisted relationship. I hold ultimate power over him. That allows me to keep him loyal. Our roles have reversed. As I told you before, I would not simply waste his mind. But, I make use of him now only because he is on a tight leash.
“But that is neither here nor there. The point of my telling you this is not to dwell on what is happening in the present, but to grant you some small understanding of my past. You said you wanted that many times. I’m sharing things with you that I haven’t told another soul.”
“I know,” I say softly. “Thank you for that, Jeremy.”
He nods. “I heard him yelling right through these walls.” Jeremy motions upwards, at the ceiling. “Above this very room, from this study on the second floor. Then I heard a scream—my mother’s scream—and a loud crash.
“I raced to her. I was not allowed in my father’s study. I burst through the doors anyway.
“And there, I saw something that I’ve remembered my entire life. My mother was lying in a heap
on the floor. One side of her face was badly swollen. The liquor cabinet had been upturned when she fell. That was the cause of the crash. A few bottles broke, soaking the rich carpet with wine as red as blood.
“But that was not the thing that stood out. What did was the presence of my brothers. They both stood behind my father, snickering silently at the fallen woman on the floor. Laughing at their own mother.
“They wouldn’t have dared it without my father’s permission, of course. And because he did not stop them, he gave it implicitly.
“That was when I first felt the very real grip of true hate.
“Seeing me run into the room, however, seemed to have restored my mother’s strength. Perhaps it was all a façade. Perhaps I was the witness the four of them needed to process what had been done.
“My father turned away and with a curt jab of his hand sent my brothers from the room. He did not look at me or my mother. I ran straight to her. By the time I reached her side, she had already risen.
“She took my hand and led me from the room, regal as any queen. She took me up to her loft—to the one place we shared in this house, the only place that was only hers, and by extension, partially mine. There, she told me that I mustn’t let what I saw affect my impression of my brothers or my father. She said that she’d slipped, that was all. Then, she kissed me and hugged me tight.
“I was old enough to know that it wasn’t true. I cared enough, and was smart enough to appreciate what had really happened—as any boy who loved his mother would be.
“But I didn’t question her. How could I? From that point on, it became our little fantasy. A lie we told each other to protect ourselves from facing the harshest truth.
“That was not the first time my father had struck her. It certainly would not be the last. It happened again only days after, on the very same trip. I began to realize that when my mother stayed in her rooms and barred herself from us, claiming she had a migraine or wanted to spend time with her books, she was hiding the physical signs of my father’s abuse.
“She was alone in the world. Her sons had abandoned her—those old enough to see what was going on, at least. Her husband was a monster. No.” Jeremy shakes his head. “No, that is wrong. Hugh never was a monster. I was a monster. I became a monster through my treatment of you. Hugh was simply…malicious.
“Vernacular differences, Lilly. But ones that are quite important, I think. My father could not be a monster because he never possessed the physical traits to make him intimidating. Perhaps that was where all of his behavior began. Maybe that was the root of it. Maybe the things he did to my mother were his way of exerting his dominance.”
Jeremy trails off. His eyes darken. “Maybe…” he says, “he and I are more alike than I ever considered before.”
His hand tightens around the rim of the glass. I can see the muscles of his forearm strain.
I don’t know what to say. Can I reassure him that he is not like his father? I cannot. It’s true: there are many parallels between the two men.
But then I notice one stunning difference.
“You loved your mother,” I say. “And she did you. I do not think the same applies to Hugh.”
Jeremy looks surprised. Then the warmth flows back into him.
“You’re right,” he says. “Yes, Lilly. You are absolutely right.” He smiles. “Thank you for reminding me.”
“I think you’re more worthy of that praise,” I say, despite feeling a smug satisfaction on hearing his words. “You deserve all the credit for sharing that with me. I didn’t do anything.”
“You are the missing piece,” Jeremy says. He looks at me intently, studying me, almost as if he’s seeing me in a new light. “You are the person who makes all of this possible. These are memories I never would have revisited were it not for you.”
“Well, at least I’m glad that I’m good for something,” I say, only half-joking.
Jeremy smiles. “You’re good for much more than that. But back to the story. The day I stumbled upon my mother on the floor of my father’s study, I became her one true confidante. Though we never spoke of what happened between her and Hugh—not even as I grew older—we shared a sort of implicit understanding of what to do in the aftermath. I would come to her. She would read to me. More than just a distraction, it became her way to deal with the pain.
“It also brought us closer together. We developed a special bond. While my brothers were clearly my father’s favorites, I was hers. I would not have had it any other way.
“Of course, maybe part of the affection she had for me came from having lost her other sons. For having been forced to give away my twin. My father was the one responsible for that, though for what reason, I still do not know.
“There you go, Lilly. That is who she was. That is why she was important to me. These things…” Jeremy closes his eyes. “…I would not have thought I would ever speak of to another person. It was all so long ago. Reminiscing this way brings up memories, both good and bad. I am so far changed from who I was as a boy that it almost feels like I’m telling you the beginnings of another man’s life. I’ve distanced myself from all of that. And yet, it all circles back to you. So it’s you, Lilly. You are the only one who has the right to learn these things. You compel me to share such things. You deserve it, in a sense. But that is not why I am giving it to you. I am giving it to you because I want to. Tonight, seeing my mother’s portrait, going back into her room for the first time since she died…tonight is a night for reflection.”
Suddenly Jeremy stands up. He moves so fast that I gasp, startled.
“Tomorrow, we’ll go back to California,” he says. “I don’t need to spend any more time here. It was selfish, maybe, but this retreat was as much for me as it was for you. I just didn’t realize that until now.
“Goodnight, Lilly. I won’t be coming to bed. There are a few more things I need to take care of. Things I need to see and do. Alone,” he stresses.
“I understand,” I say. I kiss his cheek. “Thank you, for sharing all that with me. I know it did not come easy.”
I turn away.
“Lilly,” Jeremy grabs my hand. “Wait.”
I look back.
“It was easy,” he tells me, “because I did it for you.”
Chapter Four
The flight back home reawakens my mind to all the questions still left unanswered.
First—and most importantly—is my health. How far do I trust Jeremy’s story of events? I do not know. Since he won’t elaborate, the most I can do at this point is to be aware that something might be wrong, and be on the lookout for further manifestations of symptoms.
Next is Rose. Since I’ll be seeing her again for the first time in a long time, I want to try to understand the depth of influence Jeremy has over her…and where it came from.
Then there’s work. With the IPO over, what is my position in Stonehart Industries? My signature is still very much on the contract Jeremy gave me. I don’t want to earn a salary as mere charity. I want to do something useful.
But those things feel more like housekeeping chores than anything with real urgency.
Formulating my plan for the future is a pressing issue. With Fey and Robin securely out of the way, there is no chance of their meddling and screwing things up for me. Nobody else knows the depth of my situation… unless they shared it…
But no. Not with the way we left things. I’m sure I am firmly out of their minds—at least for the time being. Robin’s note notwithstanding.
Besides, they have more pressing things to think about: Graduation. Their wedding. I’m sure my invitation has been rescinded.
I sigh. That is what I wanted. It is for the best. But still …I wish I could be there. Just because I cast them aside does not mean Fey and Robin are unimportant to me.
But that, I hope they don’t suspect.
My plan, whatever it might be, however it might unfold, is what I really need to consider. I have all that I need, I think, to
finally make good on it. Or rather, to set something in place that will come to fruition in the future.
There’s just that niggling, annoying issue of “love” to deal with.
How can I make Stonehart pay while simultaneously being in love with Jeremy? Can I be so cruel, so heartless, as to strike him down after he’s exposed himself, after he has made himself completely vulnerable?
That’s what I intended at the start. I wanted to worm my way into Jeremy’s mind, heart, and soul. I wanted to make him reveal himself to me, so that I could use that information to find his weakness.
I just never imagined that I’d fall in love along the way.
It’d be easier, in a sense, if Jeremy stayed Stonehart. Even if that meant the collar was still on. Even if that meant the contract was still intact. Hell, even if it meant that I’d have to spend more time in the dark.
Being placed in those situations would have made my hatred grow. It would have strengthened my resolve to get back at him, the way it did in those first awful weeks when I was left starving by the pillar.
Then I would have played my part to perfection.
The problem, of course, arose when the act became the truth. It came when Jeremy changed his attitude toward me.
Whatever outcome he expected when he first drugged me in the restaurant, it was not this. His whole life had gone precisely the way he’d planned it before. He thrives on control.
But burning the contract, removing my collar? Those were deviations from the plan. Very real deviations. They not only affected him, and his attitude toward me, but they affected me.
I would have never imagined that things would have transpired the way they did. That puts a damper on things. It changes my perspective just enough to make me reconsider my original stance.
There was a time when I wanted nothing more than to castrate Jeremy and have him kneel before me. That time is past. Now, I can’t envision doing anything, willingly, to harm the man.
Uncovering You 9: Liberation Page 3
