Marked. Part I: The missing Link

by J. M. Sevilla

  I walk home as fast as I can. What I really want to do is run, but that would make my hurt feelings that much more obvious.

  I close my front door and slide down it, tucking my legs in so I can rest my forehead on top of them.

  Will did like to control me, and I let him. And now I'm letting myself be fascinated by a very terrifying man. I clearly have issues.

  A loud thump! on the door vibrates my back. I don't move to open it.

  Another thump!, louder this time and it vibrates my whole body. There's only one person I know who can knock on a door in such a threatening way. Anger starts to seep in; I'm done letting him scare me.

  I hop up and throw open the door, “What?!” I say loudly, almost at a shout.

  “I'll help you.” Both his hands are clasped together and resting on top of his head. I can see a weird marking on the underarm of his skin. I stop myself from further examining it. I'm done with this guy.

  “No thanks.”

  “Why not?”

  “I'm scared of you, and I think being around you isn't healthy for me.”

  “Good. You should be scared and I'm not healthy for you to be around, but you're right, every girl needs to know how to defend herself. Although, it wouldn't have done much good against four guys. You need to remember to not travel alone or go into alleys, ever. I can't believe I even have to explain that last one.” His arms are crossed now and he's at the base of my door towering over me: carbon steel in the form of a man.

  “I think that's the longest I've ever heard you talk.”

  “It's not really my thing.”

  “Talking?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I agree. You kinda suck at it.”

  He laughs, “You gonna let me train you?”

  “Train?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I only need a few self defense moves.”

  “I go all in, or nothing.”

  What is wrong with me that I'm turned on right now?

  “I like a man who goes all in.” Wow, I can't believe I just said that.

  He smirks, enjoying the game we are playing.

  “But no,” I say, and his smirk instantly turns into a frown, which he quickly recovers into a cold-hard stare, but I'm getting used to it so it doesn't phase me.

  “You came to me,” he reminds me.

  “And you freaked me out, again. Frankly, it's getting old. You have worse mood swings than a PMSing fifteen year old.”

  “I actually hold back on you.”

  My turn to laugh, “Why?”

  Jay's eyes soften and he shyly smiles, “That's what I keep asking myself.”

  Silence.

  Heart beating.

  Faster.

  Shit.

  “You misunderstood me when you left. I wasn't angry because you asked for my help. It pissed me off when you sounded like getting attacked again was inevitable. Don't say shit like that to me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because then I'm going to spend all my time worrying about your safety.”

  Ignore your thumping heart, “Why do you care?”

  “When I figure that out I'll let you know.” He swipes his head a few times before continuing, “We train every Friday at three.”

  “What do I wear?”

  He eyes me suggestively, “I can't give that a straight answer.”

  “Three?” I double check, trying to keep the giddiness out of my voice.

  “Three,” he confirms.

  That was the weirdest fifteen minutes of my life.

  Jay smirks, “Mine too.”

  Dammit, I said that out loud.

  “You really need to work on that.”

  Dammit, I did it again.

  Jay chuckles and walks off.

  “Wait!” I call after him, “Today's Friday.”

  “We clear on the time?” He yells back, not looking at me.

  “Three!” I yell back a little too eagerly.

  He gives me the thumbs up sign, back still facing me as he heads home.

  “Should I be scared?!” At this point I'm glad he can't see the ridiculous grin on my face.

  He slightly turns his head so his chin rests on his left shoulder. A purely sinister smirk shapes his upper lip and I swear his eyes turn black.

  “Okay, you win. I almost pissed my pants from that look.”

  A deep laugh carries through the neighborhood and makes contact with my chest, knocking me back with apprehension and eagerness: a dangerous combination, but fitting considering the source.

  3:00pm

  I knock on Jay's door and a wave of thrill erupts in the base of my stomach as I wait for him to answer.

  Jay opens the door and the sight of him has the thrill turn into a thousand tiny butterflies dancing through my veins so my whole body feels a rush.

  He's wearing gray sweats and a plain white shirt. It makes me want to laugh because I'm in the same outfit, except my pants are from an old velour pantsuit set and my white shirt is a fitted v-neck.

  Jay grazes my body and I blush when he stops at my breasts before meeting my eyes, “You ready?” He asks, opening the door for me to come in.

  I step inside and shrug, “I guess. I'm a little worried about what you have planned.”

  A twinkle shines in his eyes and he gives me a playful smirk, “Nothing you can't handle.”

  “That's what has me worried.” I plant my index finger on his pecs and try not to notice how much they resemble a boulder, “You don't know me well enough to know what I can handle.”

  Jay laughs and goes to push back the couch, moving it against the back wall, “Relax, we're starting with the basics and then we'll go from there.”

  “Why is your house so bare?” I still can't get over how sparse his place is.

  “I've never gotten around to buying more than the essentials.” He motions for me to come closer, “I want you to stand right here.”

  I move to a few feet from him.

  “I'm going to teach you how to aim for the parts of the body that are the easiest to inflict pain. On the face, go for the eyes, nose, and neck. On the body, go for the knees or the groin.

  He has me come closer and shows me how to use the weight of my body to strike the nasal bone with the heel of my palm and how to use my elbow if they come from behind.

  He also shows me how to use a knife hand strike on the jugular vein, and explains that being able to scratch, poke, or gouge an eye can blur their vision and give you an easier escape.

  Next he shows me how to do a front snap kick using the ball of my foot to lock out the knee, and explains that with enough force it breaks.

  “Okay, good. Let's try it again.” We practice a few more times. I can't try the force of the kick on him but it gives me a good understanding of what to do.

  The next two hours he shows me a few more, and every time he touches me the fluttering in my veins returns.

  Jay is a patient instructor and not once do I have a sense of fear from him. I have the same sense of safety I felt when he drove me home and let me stay the night in his bed. This side of Jay is starting to scare me just as much as his darker side; this one leaves me wanting more of him and stirring up feelings I've never had before.

  When the lesson is done I go home, my head swimming in emotions. I'm becoming a moth to a flame, but just like the stupid moth I know I won't be able to stay away. Jay is a magnetic force that pulls me in, sucks me into his vortex. I want to know him, even the parts of him that frighten me, and God help me but I've never been more turned on at the sight of a man in my life, scars and all.

  Chapter 6

  Sunday, January 5

  3:36am

  I wake gasping for air on the couch, were I had fallen asleep watching television.

  Another freaking nightmare.

  “Aargghh!” I cry out into my empty house. My brothers are at a friend's and my mom is working a double shift at the hospital.

  I'm so damn tired and frustrated! I ju
st want to get some sleep!

  I go to the kitchen for a glass of water. I stare at Jay's house from the kitchen window while I drink my water. His truck's there, so I'm guessing he's home from work.

  Shoving caution down the drain, I lock up the house and head to his.

  I raise my hand to knock but stop before it hits the door. What if he's already asleep? When I was here earlier I had asked him when he works. I know his nights end at three so I doubt he is. I also hesitate because I'm in my old ratty pajamas from high school. Why do I even care? I'm only going to hang out. Who cares what I look like? Or at least that's what I try to convince myself as I knock on the door.

  Jay opens the door, running his hand over the top of his head. “Hey,” he says cautiously. I can tell he's confused why I'm here. He's still dressed and I feel better knowing I didn't wake him up.

  I try peeking around his side, “Watcha doin?”

  He seems unsure if he wants to answer me, “Watching a movie.”

  “Perfect. I love movies. I'll keep you company.” I duck under his arm and scurry to the couch he had moved back into place. I plop down on the far right cushion.

  Jay shuts his door and stands at the opposite end behind the armrest, scratching his ever present scruff.

  “Lily, I thought we talked about this. I'm not looking to make new friends,” he sounds drained.

  I know I should leave but the more time I spend with him the harder it is to stay away. I find my thoughts always reverting back to him and wondering what he's doing or thinking, or I replay moments between us.

  Being here, seeing him, it feels right.

  I twist my body to face him, “I know I'm a pain in your ass-”

  “No,” he interrupts, “you're like a damn pigeon in the park who keeps coming back, even when I clearly have nothing to give you. Why is that?”

  “Why do I keep coming over?”

  He crosses his arms and scrunches his brows, “Yeah?”

  “I like it here.”

  “Why?”

  “You make me feel safe.”

  A low, deep rumble starts in his chest and stays there, moving his shoulders up and down from his silent laugh, “You have shit survival skills.”

  “Are you saying I'm not safe with you?”

  He studies my face and I'm beginning to recognize the signs when he's thinking about how forthcoming he wants to be.

  “Would you ever hurt me?” I try a different approach.

  He shakes his head no.

  “Then I'm safe with you.”

  He rubs his head again, focusing on the cushion in front of him, “I'm not safe for you to be around,” his voice is low and has almost a sadness to it.

  “Why?”

  He leans forward, resting his palms on the armrest and letting his head hang, sighing, “You ask too many fucking questions.”

  “Only because you keep giving me vague answers,” I'm trying to remain even tempered, but he has a knack for making me snap.

  His head jerks up, red with frustration, “Only because you keep prying.”

  “I only have one more question...for today.” I add the last part because I have an ocean's worth I want to ask.

  He raises both brows in an “out with it” glare.

  I tuck my legs up so I'm cross-legged and I stare at the door, letting my voice go low, “If someone came in here and tried to hurt me what would happen?”

  Jay's face turns to stone, “I'd kill 'em.”

  “Then I'm not leaving.”

  “Fuck, Lily,” Jay hits the armrest in anger and I suck in my breath, “Is that what all this is about? You're still scared?”

  Man, he's scary when he yells. His height stretches up even higher and his already boulder-formed muscles expand.

  “Crap,” he breathes out, “Now I've fucking scared you.” His hands rest loosely on his hips and he stares up at the ceiling, taking in a long, deep breath.

  He transforms in front of me, body relaxing as his features turn soft and caring, “I'm sorry Lily, I should have known that's why you were here.”

  “You swear too much,” I blurt out. Almost every sentence out of his mouth contains a foul word or two.

  He rolls his eyes, “Get over it.”

  He falls onto the couch, slouching into the seat, “Let's watch some TV.”

  I smile and squirm happily back around.

  Jay tosses the remote on my lap, “You choose.”

  I channel surf for awhile until I land on an old favorite of mine.

  Jay sits stiffly, arms crossed, hard tight expression, watching the screen, “What is this?”

  “Gilmore Girls.”

  “I be polite and let you pick, and you don't even try to pick something we can both watch?”

  “What's wrong with this show? It's quirky and cute.”

  He grunts.

  Every time he lets a chuckle escape I want to smugly point it out, but I refrain and bite my tongue.

  “Lily?”

  “Jay?” I answer, matching his serious tone.

  He remains staring at the TV and continues, “Earlier this afternoon when you first came over...I didn't mean...I shouldn't have yelled like that. I'm just not good with people. That's why I'm a bouncer. People expect a hard-ass and little conversation.”

  “You can be really scary.”

  He sighs, “I know.”

  We go back to watching the show, but the way Jay keeps fidgeting makes me think he has more to say.

  “Do you really keep having nightmares that keep you from sleeping?” He asks a few minutes later.

  “Yes.”

  I thought that was the end of our conversation and I sit for ten minutes wondering why he asked.

  He starts in again, “And you didn't have any when you slept over, right?”

  “Right.”

  “You're staying over,” he states firmly, as if I might protest.

  “Good,” I finalize, holding back a smile.

  I toss him the remote and get up. “I'm going to bed. Night Jay,” I say before heading down the hall.

  “Good night, Lily,” the sweetness in his voice melts a little part of me.

  I'm halfway down the hall when I hear Jay say, “Lily?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You need me in there later?”

  “Yeah.”

  “'Kay.”

  10:13am

  I slept so heavily I never heard Jay come to bed, so when I wake up I'm surprised to find him asleep on his stomach next to me, an arm across my back and his hand resting on my arm. His arm is so massive compared to mine you can hardly tell mine's underneath his and I hold back a giggle. The arm he has on me is the one with the thick, long, raised scar and I slowly move my body – careful not to wake him – so I can get a better look. I can tell it was once a very deep, very painful cut. I lightly touch it and when I don't feel Jay move I let my fingers trail the length of it. I'm not sure why I'm doing this but I want to feel it, and as I do I try to come up with how a person gets scars like he has. Maybe a bear attacked him? Deep down I know that's not it.

  “Fell down a small cliff, jagged rock sliced right through it,” Jay says, sounding half asleep.

  “I can't imagine how painful that must have been,” I remark, still feeling it under my fingers.

  Jay turns his head to face me, “The worst part was cleaning out all the dirt, gravel, rocks, and small leaves that got stuck inside. Cleaning it all out stung like a bitch. I even found bugs trapped inside.”

  “Bugs?” It makes me sick just thinking about it.

  He laughs at the purely disgusted face I make. “Yeah, but they were dead 'cuz of all the blood.” He makes it sound like that made it not so gross.

  I turn my face to look at him, “Why'd you fall down a cliff?”

  He studies my face for a long time and I think he's deciding if he wants to tell me or not. I'm getting used to his intense stares and I lay there quietly, taking my time to get a closer look at his face. We've n
ever been this close; our faces are inches apart. I closely observe the color of his eyes and realize I was vastly wrong when I said their color blue was nothing special. Up close they are spectacular and like nothing I've ever seen before. The rim of the iris starts out a darker shade of blue and lightens the closer it comes to the pupil. Starting from the pupil, aqua and a soft yellow-gold shoots out to mingle with the blue, creating something you would find in the northern lights of Alaska.

  “Beautiful,” I breathe out, twisting my body so I'm on my side. I bring a hand up to to trace the scar that runs slightly off center down his right eye. Jay doesn't stop me; he continues studying my face. He has yet to move his arm off of me and it's now at my waist. Part of my shirt has bunched up because of how I turned and his thumb starts stroking the exposed skin, sending shivers and goosebumps along my side.

  I trace the other two scars on his face then let my fingers run along his scruff, loving the way it tickles my fingertips. My hand roams down his neck and around. I play with what little hair is growing on his head. It surprises me how incredibly soft it is. I find my body scooting closer, not noticing until my knee hits his leg.

  “Lily,” Jay speaks softly, almost in pain, as he pulls me in closer and buries his head in the crook of my neck.

  I don't respond and keep playing with his hair. We stay like this for another five minutes before Jay pulls away.

  “I'll go make us some coffee,” he gruffly speaks, getting out of bed and leaving me alone to stare after him.

  Jay leaves my thoughts muddled as I try to sort out the way I feel when I'm with him. Being close to him this morning and waking up in his bed left a warmth running through me I have never experienced before. I've never felt contentment like this, which leaves me at a loss because I know nothing about him other than the fact he has scars he won't talk about. Judging by the walls he consistently keeps up, they are internal too. One minute his eyes possess the devil and the next they appear lost and longing for something I'm not sure even he knows what.

  I hear Jay call down that the coffee is ready and I head to the kitchen. As I take a seat on the bar stool, I realize the two times I've woken up here I've never worried about how I look. With Will I would rush to the bathroom to smooth out my hair and brush my teeth. It's not that I don't care what Jay thinks, because I care more than I want to admit, but with Jay it's different; he looks at me the same way every time I see him (not including when he's scaring the shit out of me). I feel like with Jay I can look like this every day and it wouldn't matter to him. Oh god, maybe that means he's not at all attracted to me. Why does this thought leave me feeling so depressed?