Hurt Me: A 'Me' Novel

by Jeri Williams

  I had only ever told Deklan, and now Ember, about the abuse, but I’ve never delved into the how long and the why before, but telling a complete stranger didn’t bother as much as I thought it would. Probably because it wasn’t my most guarded secret now; I had a new one. When he started asking me the severity of the abuse and the events that led up to the night I wound up in the hospital was the only time I gave pause, not because I was scared but…

  How do you tell someone in no uncertain terms your mother had cut you up so no one would want you, and then literally beat the life out of you for trying to leave? It created the biggest lump in my throat; thinking about that night in detail was painful.

  “Do you recall Ryan Parsons being there that night?” he questioned.

  “Who?” I asked, feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket. Only two people had the number and one was currently sitting in the waiting room. The thought that he was calling sent hope tingling down my spine. Maybe he wasn’t as pissed at me as I’d thought.

  “Ryan Parsons. Says here by various witness that he was in and out of your house often and seen with your mom at local establishments.” He read from a paper in the file.

  Establishments, he meant bars. It was the only sort of ‘establishment’ my mother frequented.

  My phone had stopped vibrating, and I waited for the short burst of vibration to signal that I had a voice mail, but it didn’t. I shouldn’t have let that worry me, Deklan wasn’t really a voicemail kind of guy, but it did unsettle me a little.

  I gave him a blank look. He pulled out a picture and handed it to me. Oh, the asshole. I remembered this guy. It’s hard to forget the face of the guy you caught your mom sucking off, only to have him corner me the next day, thinking I would do the same. If Deklan hadn’t been driving by and told him to fuck off, I…I don’t even know what would have happened. The guy was beyond gross, and he hadn’t looked like he would have taken my no for an answer.

  “Yeah, I’ve seen him around a few times. Why?” I gave the picture back, I didn’t want to look at him; I could feel the pure malice in his eyes, even in the picture. He was bad news.

  “He is a person of interest, and he was the last one to see her alive. Would he contact you if he needed something? Were you close?”

  I almost laughed at his joke, but then realized he wasn’t joking.

  “Um, no. Why would he? I didn’t even know his name until two minutes ago.” I got a sinking feeling in my gut, you know the feeling that everyone gets, the one that says ‘shit’s about to get real’, and it grew with his next words.

  “You never knew?” he asked, surprised. Why was he surprised? He knew my mom was a bitch, so why would he think I was close enough to her to know the names of the skeevey ass men she hung around?

  “No, why would I?” I asked again, more annoyed this time. I hated when cops did that I-know-the-answer-but-I-want-to-know-if-you-know thing. Not that I had a lot of experience with cops, but I read through the lines and shit. Just fucking spit it out already!

  “Because he’s your biological father,” he said, matter of factly, like he hadn’t just dropped the biggest fucking bomb ever on me.

  Yup, shit defiantly just got real.

  After that, I kind of just sat there half listening to him explain his theory that an altercation broke out between my mom and him, and he killed her. I always thought that my father was this great guy, maybe partied a little too hard, and slept around too much, but still a great guy. I blamed my mother for never trying to find him or even telling me his name, which she claimed she didn’t know.

  One of my many daydreams had been that one day, my father would run into me, look into my eyes, and know that I was his kid, a kid he had never known about. If he had, he would have surely been in my life. I wanted him to find me and rescue me from my mother; I would look at guys walking around town and picture them as my father. But as I got older and realized that no one was looking for me, no one was coming for me, I let that dream die.

  I felt sick thinking about it. My mother was this psycho bitch and my father was… from what I could tell, an all-around piece of shit. The memory of him cornering me on that street corner came back blaringly clear and the detective must have seen the look in my face because he pointed out the bathroom across the hall. I barely made it there and into a stall before I threw up.

  Had he known I was his kid when he cornered me? What if he did, and he was just that guy? What if he really did kill my mom? Children are a product of their parent’s right? If all of this were true about my parents, there truly was no hope for me.

  I don’t recall if I answered anymore questions or not, but I do remember thanking him, him telling me he’d be in touch, and walking slowly back to Ember in a daze. When I reached her, she jumped up a little too quickly and asked me what was wrong.

  “Nothing,” I said lamely and walked right past her out the door, leaving her to trail behind.

  “Okay, well Matt called looking for you. I’m pretty sure it was really Deklan who was looking for you, but Matt is the one who did all the talking. I told him you were with me and that we were going to grab lunch or something after we were done here.” She kept talking as I walked over to her car, not really paying attention to whatever she was saying.

  I was left again with a range of emotions I couldn’t really process correctly. A part of me was excited that I had finally found the other half of my DNA, the origin of where I got my reddish brown hair from instead of the blonde that my mother was, and where I inherited my high cheekbones from. I tried to remember that day when he had cornered me and tried to bring up his facial features, but all I kept seeing was the wickedness in his eyes, the utter lack of not giving a fuck, and it was enough to make me nauseous again.

  The other part of me hated that after all these years of wishing I had a father, it finally came true. The phrase ‘be careful what you wish for’ rang in my head snidely, and I laughed bitterly.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Ember asked eyeing me as she unlocked the door and we both climbed inside.

  “That’s the question of the hour,” I said while fingering the cuts under my watchband. Feeling the little raised welts staved off the feelings that I couldn’t deal with rolling around inside of me if only for a few minutes. The more I thought about it, the more fucked up it was.

  My father presumably killed my mother, neither of whom had wanted me and both were apparently crazy. It must run in the family because that was the only explanation for my actions. The only explanation I could think of for asking Ember to take me back to the motel.

  “I thought we were going to get something to eat? I’m calling bestie time,” she said sadly referring to the saying she had come up with a little while after us becoming friends. It was supposed to be like a bat signal for either one of us, meaning whoever called it, the other had to drop whatever they were doing and hang out or whatever the other needed.

  We had never used it, even though I should have over the years. I was just never sure if Ember would have been able to handle my bestie time call when I couldn’t even handle it myself. I looked over at her and mentally chided myself for being selfish again because yeah, it sucked to be me right now, but I could suck up my self-pitying for a few hours and hang with my best friend.

  After I made a quick stop at the motel.

  Harley

  (Ellie Goulding “Explosions”)

  Telling Ember I forgot my wallet was about as cliché as someone saying ‘it’s me not you’, but it was what I could come up with on the fly. I don’t get it; I was like the grand fucking poobah of lying now all of a sudden. I was so bad there should be a shrine erected in my honor for world's worst liar. What the hell?

  I double and triple checked to make sure Deklan wasn’t there before I slipped in and went straight for the backpack.

  A few minutes later I was back, and I could feel the sting of the fresh cuts I’d made rubbing against one of Deklan’s leather cuffs I had slapped on my other wrist to
hide them and it gave me a feeling of…I don’t know. It just helped me in a way that made sense to me.

  After that, I was able be my normal, well what Ember knew as normal, self and joked with her as we went to lunch then she took me to Wormz, where I profusely apologized to Tom, the manager for just leaving without notice. He said he was pissed at first, but after Ember explained I was in the hospital, he was cool. He didn’t say he knew what had happened to me, but he didn’t need to, everyone knew. It was local news, especially now, since she was a murder victim. He did suggest I look elsewhere though if I was hoping to get my job back because he already filled it, and he didn’t have any more room. Thanks Tom.

  I didn’t once think about my…Ryan Parsons.

  I roamed around while Ember talked to a few employees and reminisced on how my life had changed so much over the past few weeks, and it had all started here. I smiled at the memory of literally running into Deklan here, and I had an urge to want to see him. He hadn't called anymore since the police station, and I assumed it was because he knew I was with Ember all day, but it still kind of made me uneasy since we’d left things so raw this morning. The need to make things right with him had me going to find Ember and urging her to take me back.

  “Yeah okay, I should get home anyway and cook dinner for Matt, even though he won't be there to eat it. He’s been gone for a week, and when he gets back, he’s still gone.” She said on a sigh. We drove in a sad silence, and I missed that a few weeks ago; the roles were reversed. I was the one dreading going home, and she was eager to get there, now….

  “Fuck him.” I surprised Ember and myself in blurting it out, but once I’d said it, I kind of meant it and said it again with more conviction as we pulled up to the motel and idled next to Deklan’s car. She turned to me wide-eyed and silent.

  “No, really. If he can’t see what a great person you are and not fuck up what you have, then fuck him.” I was tired of her feeling like she wasn’t enough for him; she was a great girl and a great friend. I had just been too caught up in my own shit to see that, but being with her today reminded me that she was. Is this what I sounded like? That part of my brain that screamed at me that I was a lying hypocrite was completely ignored as I opened the car door.

  “Thanks for that, Harley. I love you,” she said grabbing my hand and giving it a squeeze. I squeezed it back, but didn’t return the emotion. I hadn’t even told Deklan I loved him, well not in that time stopping way that people in books or movies say it, but I knew he knew. It didn’t feel right for me to say something so powerful, so grand for the first time to Ember. I wanted to save it for him. I promised her I’d say bye this time before I left and dug my key card out of my pocket and slipped inside. I turned around and my eyes immediately fell on him sitting on the small sofa chair, and all thoughts I had prior to walking in that room dribbled from my head.

  “What are...are you...?” My eyes widened at the sight of him.

  “Pumping my dick? Yeah, since my girlfriend wasn’t here,” he stated gruffly while his hand moved in slow steady motions, not once breaking eye contact with me. I wanted to look, to see how he pleased himself, but I became incredibly focused on the word ‘Girlfriend.’ I had never been called anyone’s girlfriend. Stupid, ugly, and worthless, those had been my titles for as long as I could remember, but never girlfriend. I smiled.

  “What?” he asked his hand picked up speed like it was the most natural thing in to world to do. Quiz your girlfriend while you jacked off. Perfectly normal.

  Blushing, because, well how could I not, I mumbled out a response hoping that would appease him. Who was I trying to kid?

  “Harley,” he warned.

  Figuring I might as well get it over with because he wasn't going to drop it, I told him. “I’ve never been called that before.”

  “What?”

  “Girlfriend,” I said with a shrug. I felt stupid for saying it out loud. It seemed like such a stupid thing to focus on.

  “Babe,” he said motioning me closer. Like my brain was on autopilot, I did, and when I was close enough, he grabbed me by the hand and forced me to straddle his lap. His erection jutting up between us. I had never really studied this part of him before. I think I was scared, but now all I wanted to do was memorize every vein, catalogue every movement, touch him.

  “You're more than just my girlfriend,” he said as he guided my hand and wrapped it around his dick, both of us letting out an audible sigh as I made contact. He felt soft and hard all at the same time. I thought it would feel strange to hold him like this, but if the moisture between my thighs was any indication, strange was not the right feeling.

  I looked up at him as he slowly began to move my hand, showing me the rhythm he wanted, and I instinctively felt, knew that he had never been this way with another girl before. His intense stare and rapid breathing that matched my own told me that. Sure he had probably gotten sucked off a billion times, and did I really need to be thinking about that now? We were sharing a new level of intimacy.

  “What am I?” I asked, pumping my hand faster up and down and watching as a little bead of moisture pebbled at his head. I had the strange urge to bend down and lick it, but fought against it, not sure why that popped into my head. I never understood what women found so great about giving oral pleasure to a guy. Whenever my mother would do it, the guy would get off then push her away, and I could just tell he didn't respect her any more than before they started. It was degrading, and I wanted to be nothing like my mother. At all.

  But I did want to have Deklan moan out my name, and I knew if I did that, he would. One of his hands covered mine, and he squeezed slightly at the base, as his other hand gripped my waist and he leaned his head back against the chair and exhaled a deep breath. “Fuck Harley.”

  It was empowering to have this effect on him. I moved my body closer; my thighs nestled around his dick and stroked him faster, cursing the fact that I had on jeans.

  “What am I, Deklan?” I asked, feeling brave as more and more moisture gathered between my own legs at the sight of his chest rising and falling rapidly.

  “Fuck, faster, Harley, I’m close,” he panted.

  “What am I?” I asked, as his grip tightened on my waist.

  “Deklan?” I probed again, doing as he requested and working him faster and faster, getting lost in the sounds of our breathing while the scent of him filled the air. His eyes pinched together tightly, and before I could ask again he growled out ‘mine’ as he exploded onto my hands and jeans.

  Panting, he grabbed me by the back of neck and pulled my lips inches from his, his breath tickling my lips. “You’re fucking mine, Harley. Mine.” Then he crashed his lips to mine in a kiss that marked me as such.

  His.

  Okay, I’ve read this line a thousand times in almost every novel that has an alpha male like Deklan in it, and I rolled my eyes because I’d always thought it was cheesy as hell. But having it said to me knowing that Deklan didn’t get it from some alpha male book character, he actually meant it, made it my second favorite line, ever. The first being ‘I got this.’ And it should have made some feminist gene kick in about his flat out possession of me like I was an object, but the truth was, I had never been anyone’s anything before; there was going to be no protest out of me.

  Last night had been about reassurance, slow and healing love making, but now it was all about teeth clashing together, tongues mingling, bodies sweating, and in a flash, he stood with me still on his lap and strode over to the bed depositing me on my back.

  “Jeans,” he demanded as he toed off his boots and took off his shirt, exposing his taut abs. His declaration had given me a newfound courage and, before I lost it, I sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed and tentatively licked his still hard shaft from base to tip, sucking the left over semen off the top. Deklan froze and, for a minute, I was afraid that I’d done it wrong. I had no clue how to please him this way, but I read somewhere that it's like licking a melting popsicle, start with s
low licks and increase to sucking before it dripped all over your hand.

  He hissed out a curse and looked down at me, his eyes so dark they were almost black from under hooded lids.

  “Babe, don’t start something you’re not ready to finish,” he warned, his hand going in my hair, either to hold me in place or to move me away, I wasn’t sure, but I was sure that I liked the look in his eyes, the look that begged me to finish. I repeated the motion on the other side, sucking the head a little longer than the last time and Deklan let out a groan while his hold on my hair tightened.

  “Shit, suck the tip again,” he panted, and I boldly took more than the tip into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it, then hollowed out my jaw as I pulled back then quickly did it again, each time relaxing my jaw to take more of him until on the third pass, he hit the back of my throat.

  “Fuck baby, that’s good, keep doing that,” he urged, his legs shaking as I got more confident with my pulls. I have to say it empowered me more, and I could see why girl’s claimed this was their favorite thing to do. His moans and grunts went straight to my clenching sex, and I knew that I could come just by doing this to him. His hips were moving in rhythm with my pulls, and he reached down and grabbed his balls, squeezing them.