Marked. Part I: The missing Link

by J. M. Sevilla

Jay has me held tightly against him as he buries his face deeper into my neck and hair. “And the third.”

  “Which was also the last,” I need to point out, as if that made the situation any better. “It was the morning after he forced himself into me and I told him I was leaving him. He grabbed me by my cheeks, smushing them together, yelled horrible things, then backhanded me and kneed me in the stomach, causing me to go down in pain. Then he kicked me extremely hard in the same spot and I thought I would pass out from the pain.” He kicked me hard enough I saw stars, something I had thought only happened in cartoons, but there they had been: tiny sparkling specks dancing in a blurry haze.

  We lay together for a long time while I listen to him trying to regain normal breathing, and over time his clenched muscles slowly soften.

  “What's his name?” The ice-cold tone he uses sends a different kind of shiver down my spine.

  “Why?”

  “I'm gonna kill him.” The air in the room stills from the harsh, menacing way he grinds out the words.

  I twist my body as best I can but he has an iron grip around me. I need to see his face and how serious he is. I get a small glimpse through the edges of my eyes and his face is shadowed in all-consuming savage brutality. Although I trust he would never hurt me, he still has the power to terrify me. He means it, there is no doubt in my mind.

  “You’re serious,” I gasp.

  “I've never wanted to kill anyone more,” he inhales sharply, as if shocked by his own words, then completely unhooks his body from mine and rolls to his back. I follow so I'm on my other side, viewing him.

  Jay has his eyes closed and his hand is scrubbing the scars on his face.

  “You okay?” I ask, growing nervous by his sudden change of moods. He seems to be internally brewing on something.

  He pinches the bridge of his nose before sitting up. He rests over his bent knees, dangling his arms over and hanging his head.

  I sit up and scoot my body, resting my cheek against his shoulder blade, and I run my hand back and forth up his bicep. I would like to be able to wrap both arms around him but know it would be physically impossible from the sheer size of him and my short, tiny frame.

  “Jay?” This time I'm the one pleading for a response. I nudge him with my whole body and he doesn't budge. I'd giggle if this moment wasn't so serious. “This time you have to open up to me.”

  “You're the first person to ever ask me if I'm okay.” I know this isn't what's got him bent out of shape, but I'm glad I've got him talking.

  “Ever, as in your whole entire life?”

  “Yeah,” the gruffness to his voice is back, but this time the sound tugs at my heart.

  “You never got hurt in school or at home and had an adult ask you that?” Surely someone at least once in his life asked if he was okay.

  “I never went to school, my dad taught me everything I know.”

  My hand stops rubbing his arms, “No mom?” I was almost hesitant to ask but he's opening up to me and I don't want him to stop.

  “She died when I was six, so she might have but I don't remember,” the vulnerability his voice carried squeezes my gut and takes hold of my heart.

  I restart the rhythmic motion of stroking his arm. “Your dad's not the...” I swallow hard, not sure if I can finish my question for fear of the answer.

  “Are my scars from him? No, they're not.” I notice my fingers have begun stroking the long, thick scar on his forearm without realizing it. “He raised me the best he knew how. It might have been more than a kid should have to handle, but he was never cruel.” I hadn't a clue what to make of his remarks; they did nothing but expand the growing mystery that is Jay.

  There are so many more things I want to say and ask, but at the moment all I can do is let my other hand start playing with the nape of his neck.

  “What did he do when you left?”

  I had to think and register back to our previous conversation. “Begged me not to, and promised that he would never do it again so many times my head hurt.”

  “Has he contacted you since then?” Jay had an edge to his tone.

  “Yes, but I never respond.”

  “When was the last time?”

  “Last week.”

  “Think he'd ever come here?”

  I lift my head to rest my chin on him so I can view his face, “Why are you asking? In hopes he does and you can hurt him?”

  “I'm trying to figure out if he's still a threat to you or not.” He moves around, making us face to face. He bends one of his legs over my lap so his arm can rest on top and he brushes the hair off my shoulders with the other. “I won't go looking for him, but if he comes here looking for you I can't promise anything.” He refuses to meet my eyes. He seems scared and unsure about what he's telling me, but I can see he fully means every word.

  Jay scoots closer, forcing me to move my legs so that they come around his hips and I'm between his thunderous legs. The nearness causes my heart to quicken.

  He lets out a long, heavy sigh, wraps his arms around my waist, and lands his forehead on my shoulder. I place one hand on his shoulder and the other plays with the hair behind his ear at the bottom of the hair line. I can feel goosebumps form on his skin from my touch.

  “I don't want you to ever be alone until I'm confident he won't come near you.” His breath runs down my chest and my nipples harden from the contact.

  Jay's head marginally lifts and he plants his lips on my shoulder. He begins to caresses the skin with his mouth, tenderly sliding along. I move the hand playing with his hair to hold the back of his neck and my bottom moves closer. We both let out a groan when we touch, causing his arousal to press firmly against mine.

  His mouth continues to play along my skin, working its way up my neck. One of his hands comes up to hold my head in place from wanting to roll back in ecstasy. The closer his lips get to mine the heavier our breathing gets, and my hips start to grind against him. This causes him to pull away from me. He lets go of my head to swipe down his face before using it to cover his eyes and massage his temples.

  “It's late, we should go to sleep.” He backs away and slides back under the covers, yanking on my arm to join him. I curl back into his arm. Even though I'm tired I can't fall asleep, thinking about Jay's lips on my skin.

  Chapter 10

  8:16am

  “What are you doing awake?” I ask, rubbing my sleepy eyes and shuffling into Jay's kitchen.

  “I'm not much of a sleeper.” Jay's eyes travel the length of me and he frowns, “Did you sleep in your clothes from last night?”

  I hop onto the bar stool, “No pj’s.”

  “Next time grab one of my shirts,” he pours me a cup of coffee and adds cream before handing it to me.

  “Thanks. Next time?” I try not to sound too hopeful but I know I’ve failed.

  “I was serious last night when I said I don't want you alone until I know that fucker isn't a threat to you.”

  “Will?”

  Jay's face hardens, “So his first name's Will?”

  “Yeah, but I honestly doubt he'll bother me.”

  “I hope you're right. For his sake, not yours. He won't ever touch you again.” I squirm a bit from the ferocity of his glare and I nervously drink my coffee.

  “You never did tell me about how you fell down the cliff.” I bring this up hoping to change the topic, plus it's been on the back of my mind ever since he told me.

  “I thought about it, but there's no way I can tell you without explaining why I was there in the first place, and that story includes how I got this,” his finger touches the middle scar on his face. His eyes darken and his features turn hard and serious, throwing me off guard, “And I don't want you to ever know a single detail about how I got the scars on my face. Ever. Got that, Lily?” He moves so his fists are resting on the island, leaning over but still towering over me. I'm paralyzed with fear and I can only nod my head.

  “Good.” He stays in position and neither on
e of us looks away.

  He's become the side of Jay that truly terrifies me, but now I have a question that I have to ask or it will burn a hole in my head until it's out.

  “Are you saying each scar happened separately?” The moment the last words escaped my lips I want to take them back. Jay's body ripples in anger and his veins bulge out as fiery-red colors his skin. I slide off the bar stool in a panic and take a step back.

  “This is the last conversation we will have about this. The scars on my face are none of your fucking business so don't ever bring them up again,” his voice remains low, but it's just as terrifying as when it booms through an entire room. “I have a dark past, Lily, and I don't want you caught up in it. You're too fucking sweet and pure to get brought into my world.” He stomps down the hall to the garage, where I hear music start to blast.

  I don't move for quite some time as I let my pulse stabilize. I try to wrap my head around what just happened. How can Jay go from being caring and kind to withdrawn and cruel in the blink of an eye?

  Jay comes back out rubbing his head, appearing tortured, “I'm sorry, Lily. That was pretty fucked up how I yelled at you. There's parts of my life you can't ever know about. I need to know when I leave here in a few weeks you're safe.”

  “You need to stop scaring me like that. I know you're a moody person and I don't expect you to be friendly all the time, but you need to have control over your words and the volume of your voice.”

  “I don't want to be someone you fear.”

  “Then don't be.”

  “Can I take you somewhere today? Let me show you something about myself? Something I love?”

  “Umm...I'm not sure. After what just happened I think I need some distance from you.”

  “I get that, I do, but I really want you to see me doing something I love. Maybe you'll see I’m not such a monster.”

  “You're not a monster, Jay, just really scary at times.”

  “I've never had to restrain myself before; my natural way is to lash out.”

  “Well, I took it from Will, and I don't want to be a fool twice.”

  Jay's palms come up to rub his eyes, “You're right, it's better if you stay away from me. I swear I would never hurt you, but it doesn’t mean my words can't...or my past.” He softly speaks the last part. When he removes his hands he looks lost and alone and my heart breaks. All I want to do is go over and hold him.

  I am an idiot. Will used to give me his pitiful faces and I would forgive him. Look where that got me.

  “I'm gonna go. I'll see you for my lessons.” I don't wait for a reply and head home. Once inside, I dash to the bathroom and take a shower. Showers always seem to help clear my head, but it doesn't work this time; Jay is as present as ever. The pull to go to him has formed into an invisible rope trying to lasso me in. I fight the urge to see if he's left for where ever he's headed today, which I'll admit I desperately want to know where or what it is. Anything to unlock another clue.

  I throw on my old, comfy, around the house jeans that are frayed at the knees and a faded t-shirt from the Nine Inch Nails concert I went to years ago. I comb my hair and brush my teeth, but I can't stand it anymore and decide to take a peek out the kitchen window to see if he's left yet.

  Looking out, I see him getting into his truck in his uniform of jeans, gray shirt, black combat boots, and black shades.

  My body springs into action, not giving my mind a chance to control it. I'm running out the door, grabbing my TOMS, purse, and only locking the bottom as I run to his truck that is backing out of the driveway.

  I'm running full speed now, calling his name. He starts to drive off, then stops when he notices me. I throw open the door. As I try to hop up I embarrassingly realize I never put on a bra and my breasts are bouncing away. Jay is staring at me as I slam the door shut, but I can't see his eyes and his mouth is drawn straight. Maybe I'm not invited anymore, oops. Well too bad for him, I'm going.

  He doesn’t say a word and keeps driving. I slip on my shoes and make another realization that I never put on any makeup and my hair is dripping wet. I tell myself it doesn't matter, that I'm not here to impress anyone, but I know that's a lie. I'm in my lounging around the house clothes, bra-less, faceless, with soaking wet hair. I'm pretty sure he's going to regret calling me adorable or beautiful.

  “So where are we going?” I ask, digging around in my purse for a hair-tie.

  “It's a surprise,” Jay leans over and turns on the stereo. The sound of Frank Sinatra fills the truck.

  I'm shocked, “You listen to Ol' Blue Eyes?”

  “Yeah, my old man loved The Rat Pack. I grew up on it.”

  I pull my hair back and start braiding the end.

  “You're always surprising me, Jay,” I beam at him while I secure the braid with the hair-tie. “I forgot to ask you last night how you knew what I drink.”

  “I'm an observer. Anywhere I am I take in my surroundings. I remembered seeing your friend order it for you without asking last time. I assumed that's what you drink.”

  “You were watching me?”

  “Not only you, everyone. It's what I do, it's automatic. Like right now I could tell the girl walking her dog just popped a piece of Trident gum in her mouth from her pocket, or this douche up ahead is distracted, talking on his phone so-” Jay stops talking to slam on his brakes and his arm comes out to protect me from whipping forward. Jay honks and flips the guy off. He had completely run a red light and would have hit us if Jay hadn't seen him coming. “I fucking hate cell phones. Worst invention ever.”

  “They come in handy.”

  “When?” he scoffs.

  “Car breaks down or something?”

  “So learn how to take care of your fucking car.”

  “You don't need to get snippy, I was only making an example. Don't you have one?” I point out, remembering the one from last night.

  “Fuck no, that one belongs to the bar. They make me carry it when I'm working in case I'm MIA and they need backup. They're too easy to trace,” Jay's lips tighten at his remark, and I can tell he let that last part slip out. I'm almost positive now Jay is running, but I haven't a clue from what. “How's the job hunt going?” I know he's changing the subject and I let him; he wouldn't answer any of my questions anyway.

  “Lousy. Nobody seems to be hiring right now.”

  “What'd you do before?”

  “I worked for Will's dad, as his secretary. I quit the same day I left Will. If my job hadn't been related to Will I would have stayed and not moved home.” Or maybe I would have. I'd needed to get out of Phoenix and as far away from Will as I could, plus the roommate I had drove me crazy. Her voice had reminded me of Minnie Mouse. Will didn't understand why I wouldn't move in with him. That was the cause of the argument we had when he shoved me the first time. I didn't know how to tell him I was afraid; it meant we were more committed to each other than I was ready for. It was one of many warning signs I had ignored for reasons I still can't quite explain. Why be with a man you're afraid to commit yourself to?

  “What was your major?”

  “Business Administration.”

  “That's pretty generic.”

  “I chose it for that reason. I had no idea what I wanted to do. Still don't. I only took the job Will's dad offered me because it paid good, had a good retirement and health plan...” I sigh, “Can I be honest with you?”

  “I hope that's all you ever are.”

  “I've always done what's expected because I have no clue what I want out of life. I went to college because that's what you do after high school. I picked a major because I couldn’t graduate without one. I got a good job because that's what you do after college,” I pause to chew on my lip. “Quitting my job was freeing, and the sickest part of leaving Will was...god this is twisted. I shouldn't even tell you,” I stop and stare out the window. I'm such a rambler I need to learn to keep my mouth shut.

  Jay reaches over and interlocks our fingers, “You won't get any ju
dgment from me. I doubt its more twisted than me.” He gives my hand a squeeze but doesn't let go.

  I swivel so my body can face Jay and I lift my left leg up onto the middle seat, keeping his hand in both of mine. “The twisted thing is I was glad to have an excuse to leave Will. Not that I'm glad he hurt me, I just mean it gave me an out that nobody would judge me for. It's sick but I can't even tell you why I stayed with him for so long. I'm not afraid to be alone, it's just everyone loved Will – everyone but Stevie and Naomi, but I didn't find that out until after we broke up. Family and colleagues would go on and on about how perfect he was and how lucky I was to be with him. I was only with him because he was the kind of man – or so everyone thought – every girl should want to be with.

  “That's what good girls like me do: we find hard working, handsome men, and spend the rest of our lives in suburbia. We have our two point five kids, spend Saturdays mowing the lawn or picking out appliances for our newly remodeled kitchen, and stress about things as stupid as what curtains to buy for the living room, but to be honest, it all sounds so fucking boring I want to cry.”

  “So get an apartment and have bare windows,” Jay teases, giving my hand another squeeze.

  “Truthfully, I'm scared to find a job because then I'm stuck living a life that everyone says I should want. I don't care about having new cars, a perfectly decorated house, or any of the other things we are expected to desire. I just don't see the point of working forty plus hours a week so I can have things I don't even want.”

  “What do you want?”

  I sigh deeply, “That's always been a problem for me. I haven’t a clue. I've never known what I've wanted out of life. I'm envious of my friends and family; they all know exactly who they are and what they want. Even my younger brothers know. They want to be professional skateboarders, and even if it never happens at least they have a clue – I'm sorry, I ramble too much. I just feel like there's so much more to life but I can't figure out how to find it.”

  “You go searching for it.”

  “How?”

  “What excites you? What brings a smile to your face?”