Possession

by Johnson, A. M.

  My eyes were tired, my mind—fuzzy as the machines hummed in unison, and the white noise of it lifted above the clamor inside the shop. I hadn’t slept well last night, and it was almost closing time. Today had been a long one, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Paige might be waiting for me at The Gallery later, I’d go home and crash.

  You can watch her bleed.

  You liked it.

  The muscle in my jaw stretched and pulsed as last night’s nightmare flickered in my twisted brain again. I’d been forced to watch Paige die over and over in my head all damn day. In the dream she’d been naked, laid out on my bed, silent and still. Her light blonde hair, feather soft, spilled in fluid torrents on my pillow—the strands shadowed her face. It felt so real, seeing her like that again. It’d been too long and I’d wanted her, I’d been able to feel the heat in my stomach, the flash of need in my veins as I’d approached her. I’d moved toward her, my mind filled with the thoughts I’d suppressed for years, thoughts about her body and how it had felt to be inside her. She was just for me, just like always.

  As I got closer, I could see her more clearly. She looked too frail, too thin and before I’d been able to reach her, feed her with feeling, fatten her flesh with my touch, breathe life into her frozen lips with my breath, her ribs had begun to break and puncture through her transparent skin. The gore of it, bright red, had been too surreal to look away, and I’d been shocked still into watching her bleed out onto my sheets. Liam had shaken me awake. Saved me from the horror. I’d been screaming, he’d said. I had woken up covered in sweat, and my fingers burned as if I’d been clenching my hands into fists as I’d slept. I’d told him everything about seeing her last night, about the dream, about her apology, and he’d listened with weary eyes.

  “Declan, come look at this shit.” Kemper’s loud voice did little to ease my thoughts.

  I flicked my gaze to his station, his client, who I wagered was probably younger than her ID had said, was lying on her back holding her bare breasts. As I stood I made an attempt to push the nightmare aside. Seeing Paige last night in the studio, having her cheek against my chest, that was real, and I didn’t want to admit how much I had wanted it. She’d looked as if she was falling apart and, despite my fears, my need to hear her say she was sorry, I’d wanted to help her, feed her, and get her talking. It hurt too much to see her cower before me, like she wasn’t worthy of my presence. Shit, I wasn’t worthy of hers. I shook my head. We’d both had enough pain, we’d both done wrong, and I wanted to talk to her, see what had changed, why she’d chosen to come there… why now?

  The girl smiled at me as I walked over to Kemper’s station. “What am I looking at?” She had a complex looking web of stenciled flowers that bordered the bottom curve of each breast. It was beautiful.

  “What do you think?” Kemper eyed me before lowering his gaze to his work and I smirked. He was new to Avenues and he always doubted himself.

  “It’s amazing,” I said, and the girl’s smile split into dimples. Definitely too young.

  Liam approached us and his smile died as he looked at the girl, his lips in a firm line. “How old are you?”

  The girl’s voice was saccharine. “Eighteen.”

  “Yeah?” Liam looked at Kemper and scowled.

  “Hey, man, I checked her ID.” Kemper’s face paled.

  “I bet you did.” Liam let his eyes linger along the girl’s body. “Always thinking with your dick. After today, find another place to get your ink, little girl.” Liam lifted his chin at me and I followed him, giving Kemper a smirk. He mumbled something under his breath, and the girl’s smile was nowhere to be seen.

  “Way too young,” Liam grumbled as we walked to my station. “We’re all headed to that the new pub on Broadway after closing. Kemper said it’s badass but Kieran doesn’t want to go.”

  “Mom been alone all day?” I asked.

  He nodded, and his chest rose and fell heavily with the burden of being the oldest son. His words were tight as he exhaled. “Yeah, Mrs. Detwiler’s daughter hasn’t been stopping by as much anymore now that she’s got classes.”

  Our mother wasn’t sick with an illness, she was sick with age, sick with life, sick from being married to an alcoholic. She only knew that house, with its stained walls, us boys, her need to make sure we were okay and raised right, despite the circumstances. She was lucky to have her faith, and the new priest, Father Becker, was good to her. He’d found Kieran some help, someone to keep Mom company when we couldn’t. She was so used to waiting on others and now, her legs were too weak, her mind was going, and it was our turn to help her.

  “I can check on her so Kieran can go out, too,” I offered, and he shook his head.

  “He’s not into it tonight, you should come, let him take care of Mom. We’ve been doing it for years.” His smile was for my benefit, halfcocked and hiding his true feelings.

  Liam has had to take care of me just as much as her.

  “Nah, you guys have fun, I’m almost finished with the piece I’ve been working on… and I kind of already made plans.” My tone was even as I rubbed the back of my neck, but Liam narrowed his eyes as he sat on my work table.

  “With her.” The venom in his voice coated his lips.

  He’s right, she’ll just hurt you again.

  Don’t be stupid.

  I ignored the voices. My mind was a cage and I was tired of being trapped inside its deceiving walls.

  “Yes, I told her I’d be there tonight. Besides, I’ve booked the studio for the week.”

  His jaw ticked. “So you’re just going to let her destroy you again. I’m telling you right now, Dex, I can’t go back there with you. You were nearly hospitalized the last time and—”

  “I know,” I said in a loud whisper. The people here, they didn’t need the details of my shit. “Hell, I don’t know what’s going to happen, but she looked so broken, and we’ve been through too much. She apologized, she—”

  “So that’s it, she walks in, apologizes, and the past nine years don’t matter. What about everything you’ve fucking been through!” He roughly raked his hand through his hair, and his eyes pierced straight through me. “You owe yourself more than that, you were a train wreck and she left you for dead. She fucking married another man, Dex.”

  The pressure in my chest consumed the space and my lungs fought to breathe. “I love her.”

  “That’s not enough to fix the damage she’s caused.”

  “We caused… me and her. I’m just as guilty. I’ll work through this shit on my own, you’re not my damn caretaker, Liam!” Anger colored my words in black and the buzz of the shop had silenced. I turned to look over my shoulder and everyone was staring at us. Kieran, who was sitting at the front desk, shook his head as he looked at us with a disappointed glare.

  Liam’s eyes creased around the corners as he winced. “I’ve done everything I can for you, for this family… plan your own goddamn funeral, I’m done.” He stood abruptly and the table scratched against the tile floor. He didn’t look at me again as he walked away.

  Kieran stood and moved toward me with sorrow-filled eyes. “We just worry about you, Declan. He’ll be fine, don’t stress it. I’ll talk to him, okay?” He patted me on the shoulder and nodded before he took off after Liam.

  Liam had been burned just as badly as I had by love, and I didn’t blame him for hating Paige, for hating Kelly, for hating his life, but I had a chance to heal, and I was fucking taking it.

  She’ll cut you open.

  She’ll bleed you dry.

  Maybe…

  But, at least the poison would at last be free from my system and maybe then the death she’d give me would be sweet, because I’d have tasted what it felt like to live again one last time.

  Paige’s corn silk strands were balled and twisted and placed on the top of her head in a messy knot. She wore a long black dress, the color at odds with her alabaster skin, but the fabric appeared soft, casual, and it flowed smoothly along t
he line of her figure. She’d always been petite, her stature delicate, and in the past her curves would’ve filled out the dress just enough, but now the fabric drowned her as she stood in front of her canvas. Paint covered her hands, and had dripped onto the floor and her dress. A smudge of green traced her jawline, and my lips broke into a smile. My chest filled with warmth and my head emptied. All my usual shadows dissolved by the beacon of light before me. Its white hot heat scorched through me as I watched her paint my profile, my eyes, everything in vivid color. She wasn’t the same, but the woman in front of me was just as tragically beautiful as the girl I’d once loved, I still loved.

  The music she’d chosen to play wasn’t anything I’d heard before, but it was quiet, light and sweet, and the female vocals lifted as Paige’s lips twitched with a smile. She’d finally noticed my presence. The front of the dress dipped low enough I could see the rise and fall of her breasts as she struggled to breathe. She pulled her bottom lip through her teeth and gave me a nervous wave. My nightmare last night a forgotten horror story.

  “Hey,” she said, and her voice, it sounded just as anxious as I felt.

  I lifted my chin in greeting as I took a few more steps into the studio. The closer I got the more her scent and the mixture of paint almost dragged me to the past, but I focused on her eyes and how they’d aged with pain, and I remembered, in that moment, that we were two people… broken and battered, meeting for the first time. Everything before this moment couldn’t matter anymore. If I wanted to move on, if I wanted her, I’d have to love this version of Paige, and as her lips trembled, I knew that I could… that I would.

  “You found your inspiration?” I asked and she lowered her eyes for a flash before raising them back up to mine.

  The honesty shimmered within the azure color of her irises and she spoke, “You’ve always been my muse.” She turned and looked thoughtfully at her canvas. Paige lifted her brush as if to continue to work but stopped and dropped her arm. “It’s unbelievable,” she whispered.

  The air was cool inside the studio, and a slight draft stirred the stray pieces of her hair. I rolled my hands into fists in an effort to not reach out and touch her.

  “What’s unbelievable?” I asked and took another step closer. My eyes closed briefly, as my nose filled with the scent of rain, the scent of her.

  “When I was with Clark, at first, he allowed me to paint.” Her eyes fell to the floor and my shoulders tensed at the word ‘allowed’. “But I had nothing to paint, and I think he enjoyed that I’d lost that part of myself because it was connected to you.” She flicked her eyes to mine and her smile banked the rage that was building in my chest. “I’d thought I’d never paint again, but after all this time, all it took was you, and my mind opened with color and ideas, and after I’d left here last night I was able to see exactly what I wanted to paint.”

  She stepped toward me and I brushed my fingers against hers. The paint that coated her skin, red, yellow, and green, was still wet and transferred small splotches onto my knuckles. The promise she offered in her words scared me, but she had to know.

  “You never lost it, Paige.” I brought my thumb and forefinger to her chin and tilted her head back so she wouldn’t drop her gaze again. “It’s right in here.” I released her chin and traced my fingertips along her forehead. Her body relaxed under my touch and I wondered what the past nine years had been like for her. “Did he hurt you?”

  She nodded. “Not physically, but he broke me, nevertheless.”

  She took a step back, and the heat of her body evaporated from between us and her face blanched. Did she still have feelings for him?

  “Did he leave you?” I asked.

  She stood taller and shook her head. “No, I left him…” She placed her brush on the work stool and stared at my painting. “I was given to him, Declan. I was a gift from my father. A perfectly packaged sinner ready to be saved. I was something to control, and when I couldn’t give him what he wanted he looked for it elsewhere.”

  “You were gifted?” My brows furrowed, and all I wanted was for her to look at me, but she wouldn’t. She continued to stare, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.

  “I had to tell my parents everything, and you know, Declan, you saw how the church had taken over their lives. I was cattle to be bartered for status. I was to marry the pastor’s son. I was to atone for my murdering ways.”

  My heart was like a jackhammer as I watched her shiver. She rubbed at her arms until the blood pooled below the surface of her flesh. Her words strangled me, and the light drained from my periphery. The darkness came back with a vengeance I’d never felt before, and my fists begged for answers.

  “Clark was a façade at first. The doting husband to the pitiful wife who still longed for her past. After a while, I assimilated. I did exactly as he wished, as my parents wished. I was the perfect Stepford wife, except for one flaw… I wasn’t able to bare Clark a child. He hated me for my sin and how it ruined his chances at the family he thought he deserved, so he sought comfort in another woman.”

  “So you left him?” My fury was barely contained and she could tell.

  She finally brought her eyes to mine and they were wide open. “Yes.” She turned to face me fully and took my hand in hers. “I’d thought for so long that I deserved every rotten minute I spent with Clark because of what I’d chosen to do and then, when I wasn’t able to conceive, I knew God thought so, too. I didn’t deserve happiness, and I’d told myself I never deserved you.” I wanted to tell her she was wrong, but she said, “I wish…” she choked. “I wish I would’ve kept our baby and married you. Created an existence that didn’t involve pain and heartbreak, only art and joy and family. I wish I would’ve had faith in us, in you, and I should’ve never let you leave my house that day thinking I didn’t love you… want you—”

  “Paige.” I dropped her hand and cradled her face between my palms. “There’s no going back.” She’d been wishing for things we’d never get back, living in shit, just like me. Mine was self-imposed, but hers, my head throbbed, what else had she had to live through?

  “I understand.” She sounded defeated. She pulled away and my arms fell to my sides.

  The voices in my head smiled, and my heart cracked and spilled through my veins in wet, sloppy beats as my palms cooled, the heat from her cheeks an afterthought. “I don’t think you do. I have no clue what you’ve been through, or who you are now, but I want to. Our past is gone… we’ve changed, Paige… I’ve changed.”

  You’re the same, Declan.

  See how she watches you, she knows it… you’re still worthless.

  I brought my thumbs to my temples and pressed as I closed my eyes willing the thoughts away. Not now.

  “What are they saying?” Her fingertips were light on my shoulder and, as I lowered my arms, I opened my eyes. She was so close. The voices whirred and hissed as her fingers trailed down, dusting along the line of my arm, until the warmth of her hand tangled in mine.

  I was a kid again, and she was the only thing able to heal me. “They say I’m worthless.” I swallowed as her lips parted with a soundless gasp.

  She squeezed my hand. Her smile was compassion, it was faith, and it spread a deep burgundy glow in my chest. “All you have to do is take a look behind you…” She flicked her gaze to my painting. “And you’ll know that’s not true.”

  “Don’t worry, honey,” my mother spoke with her usual kindness, but I didn’t miss the anxiety that highlighted her tone. “I’ll get you some water.”

  Paige was pale and lying on my bed, my mother sat at her side with a warm smile as I hovered in the doorway. I lingered as my mom stood. My head was pounding; the voices I’d forgotten about polluted my peripheral vision again.

  “She looks really tired, sick… maybe she should head home? Her mother could tend to her.” My mom took my hand and squeezed it. “She doesn’t have a fever.”

  We’d come back to my place after we’d left the clinic. Paige was too afrai
d to go home, she wasn’t ready to tell her parents, and I sure as hell would never tell mine.

  “She’s just tired, Mom, it’s been a long day. I think maybe a stomach bug. I’ll take her home in a little bit.”

  She nodded and whispered so only I could hear, “Your father is passed out, use his car, she shouldn’t have to ride the bus like that.”

  “Thanks.” I leaned down and kissed my mother’s forehead, I towered over her now. Almost a man, but still a boy. A boy who’d just lied to his mother, who’d just made the most adult decision of his life, and who watched his girlfriend quietly leak tears onto his pillowcase.

  You hate her.

  No.

  You hate what she’s done.

  No.

  I was lying more today than I ever had before, to myself, to my mom, to Paige. My mother closed the door behind her as she left my bedroom. It could have been two minutes or twenty, but I stood there and stared at the girl I loved, and as time ticked by, as each one of my heartbeats slowed to a grind, a painful ache grew… for her… for what we’d done, I wasn’t sure I would ever move again.

  She sniffled and opened her eyes. They were void of color. The soulful blue had been snuffed out.

  “Are you in pain?” My voice scratched in the open air, dry and flat.

  “I deserve it.” She closed her eyes and I was grateful for the reprieve.

  I didn’t contradict her as my fingers clenched at my side.

  “I’m damned, Declan, I’ve condemned us both.” Her voice splintered into bruised purples and my feet moved at her silent cry for help.

  I kneeled at the bedside and ran my fingers through her hair.