“I…I don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry for everything I did, for the things I didn’t do but should’ve done. I should’ve been there for you, for Alice. Please know that I loved her. I…love you, too.” Her tears streamed down her face. There was that pang again, a pang to run and hug her, cry together for my dead mother.
Over the years, I’d wanted to ask her about my mom before me, when she was younger. But I never did, and now she was leaving. Well, that was what she did, didn’t she? “Personally, I don’t believe in love. But have a good time in Europe.”
I turned and walked away. A small victory in knowing that I showed her my back this time, instead of the other way around.
In a fog, I entered the bedroom, unseeing, unfeeling. I lay down on the bed, drew my knees up to my chest, and wrapped my arms around them. My eyes stared at the white walls, but in my head, I saw my mom’s laughing face. I wanted to close my eyes, stop the vision, but I knew no matter what, Mom wouldn’t leave me for a very long time.
Then, as if no time had passed, I felt an arm snaking around me, unfolding my body, forcing me to stretch my legs down. They were satiny, smooth as silk and light as clouds. They made me long for rough, sinewy arms, dusted with coarse hair. James’ arms that squeezed the breath out of me, that wrapped around my body in a punishing hold, like they would never let go, not until I was dead or crushed between them. Yes, that man had turned me into a psycho.
A slight rush of air tickled my ears as I heard the whisper, “You look exactly like your mother. I knew it, but…it’s astonishing.”
A short pause followed, and I heard a flick, a movement of air. Julia held a photograph in her hand. I tensed. Did she get it from that box Alana had brought? And then she was nuzzling her nose under my ear. “She went to the same school as you. You never told me.”
Yeah, she did. Bridgevale High. It was the only high school in that fucking town.
Her arms tightened around me, but mine lay limp, useless, like the rest of me. “Oh look! She was the homecoming queen. She looked pretty in red.”
Her voice was grating, as if she was clawing my insides. My stomach rumbled.
“I found a yearbook, too.” She giggled. Her breath on my face made me nauseated. “There’s a rose tucked in between the pages.”
Did my father give that to her? I didn’t even know what that bastard looked like. The bastard who made me a bastard. A strong hiccup hitched my breath. I was going to throw up if she didn’t stop talking.
“Did you know Alana and your mom had the same necklace? Alana told me they won them at a carnival.”
Stop talking.
“Actually, Alana won it for her. They had to shoot bears for it, and your mom kept missing.” She giggled again. Her sickly breath swirled in the air and tickled my nose.
Then I felt her fingers traveling down my body. I cringed away, but she held on, her fingers crawling down my arm, my hip, like a spider’s touch, and then she began unbuttoning my shorts. I went to stop her, grab her arm. I was not in the mood.
“Shh…let me,” she whispered, turning me over on my back. “I need to return the favor for this morning.”
This morning. When I used her body to ease my guilt. Now it was coming to bite me in the ass.
She pushed my shorts and panties down, her fingers touching my pussy. My stomach lurched again, bile coating my mouth. I fisted the sheets, my eyes pouring over with tears, scalding and hot. Her finger entered my wet—wet with James’ cum—channel, pumping in and out.
No, no, no. I should do something, stop this.
I tried to move away, but she grabbed my bucking hips and dug her sharp nails into my skin. Moaning in pain, I sobbed. And when I thought I wouldn’t be able to take any more pain, any more humiliation, she put her mouth on me, lapping my pussy, biting my clit.
No, please no, I chanted in my head. Something was dying inside me.
Until her tongue sent me reeling, awakening every nerve ending in my body. I was going to come. Again, I tried to move away from her. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to come. But she held me down with both her hands and latched on to my core until I had no choice but to come, gushing around her. My pussy leaked a torrent of juices, and my eyes leaked tears.
Once she was finished, I jumped up from the bed, dry heaving.
Blindly, I reached the bathroom and almost fell against the toilet, emptying my stomach.
A cold cloth appeared in front of me. Julia dabbed my face with it, and I let her. She hauled me up and gave me the mouthwash for rinsing.
“Here.” She handed me a couple of pills and a glass of water. “For sleeping. You need your strength.”
In the antique mirror where I saw my mother’s ghost every day, I saw Julia stroking my hair, a satisfied gleam in her eyes. My face looked so pale in comparison to her, my hair ratty, my eyes too big and hollow.
She kissed my hair; the smell of pills, sour and sickly, clung to her lips. “I’ll never let anything happen to you, Madison. You can be as broken as you want, baby. I’m here to pick up the pieces so you can spill them again.”
She was right. I was fragile, fucked up, twisted. With her, I could be all of those things without having to change myself. I stared down at the pills in the palm of my hands, so tiny but so meaningful. Throwing them in my mouth, I swallowed them dry. I hated sleep meds or any kind of meds, really. But for her, I took them.
She needed her revenge.
And I was guilty enough to give it to her.
Chapter Fifteen
James
Walking down the hallway of the reception house, drenched in sweat, my knuckles still bandaged but soaked with blood, I saw Madison.
Her hair was tied up in a bun today with a few flicks breezing against the soft skin of her delicious neck. The shrunkenness of her posture made me want to steady her and draw her against my chest. I had been boxing with Tim for the past hour and needed to clean up, but I followed her inside the ladies’ room, in a helpless rush of desire and madness. Was there ever another option when it came to her?
She whirled around as she heard the door squeak and then click shut. Gorgeously devastated. That was how she looked. Her skin glowed with sweat; droplets of it traveled down her throat, disappearing under her light blue collared shirt. But even the glow of her sweat could not hide her prominent dark circles, the reddish dew of her eyes, the pain-riddled frown. What happened to her?
“What are you doing here?” she snapped. “Get out.”
“Something happened to you,” I concluded when she did not resort to her usual taunts.
She clenched her teeth, curling her fingers around the edge of the vanity. “I said get out. Leave me alone, okay?”
She flinched as I walked forward, slow but sure. “You disappeared for two days.”
The last time I had seen her was when she left my cottage two days before. I was riding a high I never thought possible. Madison made the pain better, drove the rotten thoughts away, even if temporarily. She made me smile, laugh even. I had…fun with her.
I would never admit this to her but I looked for her yesterday, hoping to find her, touch her so she could curb the pain.
And now here she was, refusing to give me what I wanted. What was mine. I wondered when all of it became a forgone conclusion. My heart drummed with excitement, with fear.
Pressing herself against the counter, her breaths accelerated the closer I got. “Yeah well, I didn’t know you’d miss me. I’m sure your hand must’ve kept you company.”
I did not stop until my body was touching hers, her chest fluttering against mine. It was as if years had passed since I last saw the taunting twinkle in her eyes, the ruthless passion in them like quicksand, drowning me. Her eyes were vacant. I did not like that.
“Stop crowding me. I’m not in the mood. Go away,” she said, even as her gaze roved over my body. She wanted me too.
“I will, if that’s what you want. But I don’t think you want that. So I ask you ag
ain, what happened to you?” Reaching behind, I unraveled her bun; her long hair came crashing down, drenching me in its silky softness. I never wanted her to wear her hair up again.
“Nothing happened to me, all right?” She frowned. “I just don’t want you anymore.”
My fingers curled around her hair, waiting for her to tell me.
“Did you hear what I just said?” Her frown turned furious now. “I don’t want you. Go away.”
I stood silent, sifting the ends of her hair.
“Oh God!” She stomped her foot and I bit my lip to stop my smile. “No want. Go away.” When I still didn’t move, she threw her head back and stared at the ceiling in frustration. “Jesus, fuck! Say something!”
It was becoming really hard to hold my smile.
Glaring, she said, “Your cock sucks.” I didn’t respond to that, and she continued, “It’s small and tiny and I don’t like it.” I gave her a dry look, to which she said, “You’re boring.” Then, “I hate you.”
Finally, I smiled; grinned, maybe. “I don’t think you do.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “I do. I so do.” Sighing, she gave up. “Why do you care what happened to me?”
Playing with the ends of her hair, I whispered, “I think you want someone to care.”
She glared at me, offended, and I chuckled.
“Aren’t you forgetting something? You don’t.” She rested her palms over my chest, covering my beating heart, trying to push me away.
Lifting my bandaged hand, I traced the crease between her eyebrows. “The first time I saw you, your eyes were empty. I wondered how you did that. What made you so careless. I wanted to look inside you. Right here.” I tapped her forehead. “I wanted to know your secret. I thought it would set me free.” Rolling my forehead on hers, I whispered, “But I didn’t know that you were as trapped as me. You’re just good at pretending.”
She pushed me again, taking my hand off her cheek but not letting go of it completely. “This kind of attention’s kinda creepy so…”
Unable to wait any longer, I snaked my other arm around her waist, bringing her flush to my body. I bent my head, smelling her neck—sweaty and citrusy. “You look like you did when I first saw you.” She gasped as I flicked the collar of her shirt aside and bit the fading bruise on her neck. My cock hardened in my pants, leaking, begging me to drive inside her tight body. It had been so long. I whispered against the skin of her neck and she trembled. “I don’t like it. I want your eyes alive like they are when I’m inside you. They fill with fire.”
She stopped breathing. Her liquid body went rigid against me. What had I said wrong? This time when she pushed me away, I let her.
“I don’t care what you want.” Her eyes heated with anger, finally something other than the emptiness. “Just fucking…back off. I don’t want you here.”
I frowned. Something was not right. “Tell me what you want then?”
“What, are you gonna give it to me?”
“I can’t if you don’t tell me what you want.”
Madison stared at me with a hard defiance. “Fine, touch me like you don’t hate me.”
“What?”
“Oh! Is that a tough one for you?” She arched her eyebrows. “I said, touch me like you actually like me. Like this…” Her fingers feathered over my lips, traveled to my jaws, down to my throat. My cock strained against my pants, throbbing with as much violence as her touch was tender. “Do you feel that? Can you touch me like that? Softly, like you’re afraid you’ll hurt me. Like maybe you love me.”
I ceased breathing. Love…love? Why would she bring it up when she knew I was incapable of it? I…I didn’t even know what it meant. I…what was that on her face? Either my brain was dying due to lack of oxygen or Madison’s face displayed deep, extreme longing.
“You can’t, can you?” She sighed. “Look at you, you’re fucking terrified of the word even.” Chuckling, she continued, “It’s okay, James. I like it rough. I like getting fucked against the wall. I like the biting, the pain, the way you push me down. So breathe.”
Her words circled around my head, unearthing doubts, guilt, the thoughts that inundated me at night. Monster. Sick.
“You wanna hurt me now, don’t you?” Her tone turned cheeky. “I can see you struggling, sweating. Poor baby,” she cooed, palming my granite-hard jaw. “If I told you that I don’t want anything to do with you, will you still take me? Hmm? Will you lose control and fuck me here even if I don’t want you to?”
A manic light flickered in her eyes. Manic, tempting, irresistible. She rubbed her lower body against mine. Vibrations coursed through me as I tried to physically control myself from squeezing her too hard, too violently.
“Will you?” she whispered.
“I’m leaving,” I said, but I did not move.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she said. “Will you take me against my will? Will you do that for me, hmm?” Her fingers feathered over my lips again, a touch so innocent, so pure, so in contrast with what she was saying.
In years to come, I would still marvel about the strength it took me to move away from her. “No.” My lips formed the word; they moved but I could not hear anything beyond the rush of blood.
Again, I wondered if my brain was shutting down due to lack of oxygen because Madison seemed disappointed, her shoulders wilting as she gripped the edge of the vanity once again. The manic light disappeared, replaced by nothingness. I loathed it, more than anything in the world.
“Didn’t think so.” Her eyes roamed over my face, her gaze a tangible thing. “Just leave.”
I did not remember turning around, twisting the knob and walking out the door. The only thing running on loop in my head was Madison’s face and her voice asking me to do the unthinkable.
****
I had been on the conference call with Mason and Brandon for the past hour. They had been giving me bemused looks; I hadn’t been very friendly to them tonight. I couldn’t be. My mind was still stuck with Madison in that ladies’ room. I had churned her words over and over in my head, analyzing them, taking them apart, and I still came to the same conclusion. She was asking me to do something grotesque and I was this close to doing it.
“Dr. M, are you listening?” Brandon asked.
“Huh?” I blinked, sighing. “You know what, let’s pick it up tomorrow. Be sure to email me your admission essay for Columbia, okay?”
We said our goodbyes and as I was snapping my laptop shut, I heard Katie saying, “But Grandma, Daddy said she’ll be back real soon.” Her voice carried over from the living room, where she had been watching TV.
I shut my laptop off and walked toward her. She sat on the couch, frowning, with my phone in her hands. Was she talking to my mother?
“What is it, Katie?” I asked, coming to sit beside her.
She looked at me. “Daddy, it’s Grandma. She says Mommy will be late getting home after her trip but I don’t know why.”
Anger like I had never known before took hold of me. Bursting, overflowing.
I took the phone from Katie’s hand. “Why don’t you freshen up and I’ll lay the dinner out, okay?”
“Okay,” she mumbled.
Taking a deep breath, I pressed the phone to my ear with shaking hands. “Mother.”
“James.”
“What did you tell Katie?”
“The truth,” she snapped, irritated. “Or at least, I was trying to tell her until you got on the line.”
Unable to sit still, I got up and walked to the kitchen, my jaw ticking. “I told you that I was handling it.”
“No, you weren’t. You are a coward, James. And like always, I’m making life easier for you. If telling her is the problem then as your mother, I’m going to do it for you so you can stop this madness and come home.”
My eyes zeroed in on the knife gleaming on the kitchen counter. “Like always?” I chuckled harshly. “When did you ever make life easier for me, Mother? When have you ever ha
d the time?”
“Don’t take that tone with me, James,” she snapped, her voice turning steely. “I’ve done nothing to deserve it. I’ve been a good mother to you. I’ve clothed you, fed you, paid for your education. I deserve your respect.”
“I’ve always respected you, Mother. Always. But you never respected me back.”
“Respect is earned, James. It’s something people work for their entire lives. They don’t hand it to you out of nowhere. And do you think after what you’re doing I’ll ever respect you?”
My fingers wrapped around the edge of the knife and pressed. “Do you know I slept outside your door for months after Father left?”
“What?” Her voice hitched. “What does he have to do with anything?”
I felt the blade breaking skin as I spoke. “Do you know how cold the hallway outside your bedroom is, Mother? How hard? I used to sleep there all night, listening to you cry on the other side. But I knew if I knocked, you’d be mad and I was so damn guilty about making Father leave that I didn’t want to make you mad.” The blood oozed out of my palm, smudging against the knife. “I was so afraid you’d leave me too. I cooked, cleaned, did my homework, kept quiet because you always wanted pin-drop silence while working. I always kept myself in the shadows, all because one day, you’ll forgive me for everything and maybe, just maybe, you’ll hug me.”
“James—”
“Did you ever want to? In all the years we lived together, did you ever want to hug me, talk to me, even look at me?” My breathing had turned harsh. “I don’t think so. I don’t think you were even aware of me.”
“James, that’s a little overdramatic, don’t you think?”
I laughed then. Though I wished I knew how to cry. “I might be the lowest of the low fathers to ever walk the earth. And one day my sins would catch up with me. But I’m done paying for the mistakes I never made. I’m done being invisible to you.”
“Are you threatening me?”
Unwrapping my hands from the knife, I pushed my palm under the sink tap and washed away the blood. “I’m not. I’m cutting you off.”
She must have heard the seriousness in my voice because her tone turned unsure. “J-James? What does—”
A War Like Ours Page 19
