“You’re okay, sweetheart,” I whispered in her hair. “I’ve got you. I’ll protect you no matter what.”
I paced back and forth for a long time. Katie’s sobs had reduced to tiny whimpers and then stopped altogether. Her frame slumped against me, alerting me to the fact that she’d fallen asleep.
I walked to the bedroom and laid her down on the bed, gently. She curled in on herself and kept on sleeping. I stared at her tear-caked face, her chapped lips, the hair on her forehead. She looked exactly like me. She was my daughter. And it was time I did right by her. With a kiss on her forehead, I left her sleeping.
Out in the kitchen, I stood by the sink, staring at the lake. I dialed a number I should have dialed the day Nat had died and fisted my hand on the counter, waiting for Esther to pick up.
“James?” Esther exclaimed. “Oh my God! Where on earth are you? I kept calling and calling and your mother said you were gone somewhere. And you never replied to my messages. How…how have you been? How’s Katie? I…I don’t know what to say.”
Her soft, welcoming voice had always soothed me in a way my mother’s could not. But Nat had never appreciated her mother’s love or her tenderness. She had always thought Esther was more interfering than a concerned parent. For me, she had always been different from my usual stark existence.
But I had been avoiding her calls and messages ever since we came here. I was…afraid. Afraid of what she would think of me, and the things I had done.
“I’m coming back.”
“You are? When?”
“Tomorrow. I’ll stop by your house.”
“Yes. Yes, absolutely.”
“Esther…I…I need your help.”
“Of course, honey. What is it?” she said, concern evident in her voice. “What’s going on? Why did you disappear, James? You know you can tell me, right?”
“I…” I swallowed as the lake rippled in front of me. Was that Nat’s way of agreeing with me, finally? Or maybe I was still imagining things, searching for validation from people who never accepted me.
Turning away from the lake, I said into the phone, “I want you to adopt Katie.”
There was silence on the other end, and my heart hammered in my chest.
“What’s going on, James?” Esther asked with caution in her tone. “What are you talking about? I don’t understand…why…why would you—”
“Esther, I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I’ve taken a lot of blame in life.” I sighed, staring at my cut arm. “Some of it was deserved, but some of it, I’m only now figuring out, I don’t. I never did. And this time I want to do everything right. For once in my life, I want to do things as they are supposed to be done. So…” I took a deep breath, a sort of calm settling over me, telling me this was the right thing to do, even though a piece of my heart would be ripped apart. “Will you adopt Katie? I’ll give up my guardianship to you.”
“What’s gotten into you, James? Why are you talking like this?” she asked again. “What blame? What—”
“Esther, just promise me, okay? Just…I’m asking you to promise me. I know no one would love my daughter more than you.”
“I don’t know, James. I—”
“Do it for her. For Katie. She deserves it, she deserves something special, and I know you can give it to her.”
A long sigh later, Esther replied, “Okay. But when you get back, I want to know what you’re talking about. I want to know everything. Where you went, why you went there. Everything.”
My shoulders slumped with relief. “Yes. Yes, I’ll tell you everything.”
“Okay.”
“Thanks, Esther. I know it’s not enough, but…that’s all I can give for now.”
“Thank me when you see me tomorrow, okay? Don’t disappear on me again.”
“I won’t. I promise, and I intend to keep it.”
We hung up, and I knew in my heart that it was the right thing.
Once this call was done, I made another call to the dean. It was time to tell him I would not be able to accept the grant money, because it was time to quit. I didn’t want to run after things, I wanted to stay and take care of things I already had.
I had to do penance.
But only for the crime that I had actually committed. The crime of lying and running away.
Chapter Twenty-Four
James
Hours later, a knock sounded at the door, and I flinched. I knew it was her; I could feel it.
I jumped up from the couch and snatched the door open. Madison stood on the porch. Our eyes clashed. Hers were puffy, with wet eyelashes that stuck together. She looked the same but not exactly. She was in the same clothes she’d been in before, her crumpled white T-shirt and khaki shorts. But her face had changed in those few short hours. It had become younger, her cheeks rounder. She looked innocent, more fragile than I had ever seen before.
“I wanna tell you a story,” she whispered. Her voice was tired, afraid, lacking her usual confidence.
My body tensed with the need to gather her in my arms and soothe away the pain. But then my eyes fell on the marks on her neck. I did that to her. Me. This was another one of my crimes for which I deserved penance.
“I don’t—”
“Please. Just let me say it,” she implored, blinking.
Her blinking caused an eyelash to break off and settle on her right cheek. I wanted to reach out and touch it, but instead, I stepped back and let her in. She took hesitant steps inside the cottage as if she had never been in here. I closed the door just as she turned around to face me.
She wrung her hands as she regarded me with uncertainty. It was a physical struggle to stand away from her when all I wanted to do was touch her, hug her cracked façade and make her whole.
Then she spoke in a high-pitched voice, like that of a child’s. “I…after Mom died, Scott attacked me. He’d disappeared after Mom’s death. For days I didn’t see him. But on the night of the funeral, he came back and I was stupid enough to…to go into the kitchen.” She paused to a take a breath, her hands clasped in front of her. “He jumped at me, threw me to the floor. I couldn’t move. I…couldn’t breathe. I just lay there as he tore my clothes, my mom’s favorite nightgown. I just wanted to…feel close to her. But he…he tore it up and then he…fucked me right on the floor.”
She swayed on her feet, and then she was falling. I dashed and took her in my arms as her knees hit the ground. Her words had chilled me to the bone, turned my blood to ice. She crawled onto my lap and clung to my neck, as if I was her strength, her anchor.
Her thin body shuddered with her sobs. I could feel her tiny bones rippling under her skin. Her pain felt like a tangible thing, too heavy and coarse to touch, too sour to smell. I held on to her, tight and hard, trying to absorb her pain.
“He kept saying I love you, Alice. I can’t live without you. I told him I’m not Alice. I’m Maddy. But he never listened.” She hiccupped. “He…raped me, James. He destroyed my mom’s gown. He…”
“Shh, shh,” I breathed into her ear, rocking her, much like I had done to Katie so many times.
Madison was raped. Her very own stepfather had forced himself on her when she had been grieving for her mother. When she was at her most vulnerable.
I stared at the blue wall, my eyes heavy with her grief, her pain. But my knuckles tingled like they did before throwing a punch on the bag. My body felt tight, too small for the emotions growing, billowing inside me.
She moved away and looked up at me with a tear-stricken face. “For years I believed that…that he did it because he was blinded by his own pain. I thought he missed Mom so much that he couldn’t see straight and I was…just in the way.” Her eyes implored me to understand as she went on. “And I thought if I just believed that, then everything would be okay. My mom would be happy that a man loved her so much that he saw her everywhere. And…I won’t be another trailer park statistic who’s abused.” Her eyes shining with tears, she gave me a small, sad smile. “But
I am, aren’t I? My mom picked the wrong guy again.”
My thumb caressed her face, wiping her tears off. The rage inside me faded into the background as I stared at this incredible girl. The girl who had been hiding this for so long, wearing anger as her shield. Where did she come from?
Her fingers ghosted over my lips and jaw. “But I think I picked the right one.”
She looked at me in wonder, with so much warmth that it hit me in the gut. Her tender look churned my stomach. She thought I was the right guy for her. Was I?
Taking her hand off my face, I extracted myself from her embrace and stood up. My eyes swung to the marks on her neck, and my heart squeezed to the point of becoming a pulpy mess. “I told you before, Madison, I’m not the one you’re looking for. I’m not the guy for you. I’m not the guy for anyone.”
She sprang to her feet and frowned. “Is this about what happened earlier? It is, isn’t it?”
I looked away from her. “I almost…killed you, Madison.”
“No, you didn’t,” she stated, coming close to me and forcing me to look at her. “No, you did not. Stop taking the blame, James. Enough with the martyr shit, okay? I provoked you. I made you do it, so it’s my fault, too. Besides, you stopped.” She stared at me, her brown eyes serious and deep. “You had enough presence of mind to stop. Don’t you see? You always stop, James. You always do the right thing.”
“Madison, I’m not a saint. Hurting you turns me on. It does things to me…” I chuckled, harshly. “I…I’m not normal, and you know it first-hand.”
“Hell yeah, you’re not normal,” she replied fiercely. “But you don’t deserve to be hanged either. You’re you, and that…should be enough, right?”
I shook my head, trying to deny her words, but somewhere they were making a home. A place tired of the things called guilt, conscience, nightmares…a place tired of my own self.
“I’ve always been so afraid of turning into my mother, James.” Her hands came to rest on my shoulders. “I’ve done everything in my power to not be her. But now I know I won’t ever be like her because you’re not Scott.”
“Madison—”
She put her fingers on my lips. “If it makes you feel any better, we’ll say no to strangulation from now on, okay?”
Even at a moment like this, Madison could make me smile, make my heart feel lighter. She leaned over and kissed me softly, almost as if she were the air breezing against my lips, tender and invisible.
But then she moved her body against mine and the softness turned hungry. We pressed our lips together, tangling our tongues, drinking each other in. I never wanted to stop, never let go of her, never leave her. The scabs on my fingers scratched against her soft skin, making her moan. I wanted more. So much more. She pulled at my shirt, trying to take it off. We drew closer, our hips moving against each other, our chests colliding. I wanted to rip her clothes off and take her here, on the floor, and pretend that nothing was wrong. Everything was as perfect as it had been yesterday.
But it wasn’t.
Madison was a rape victim, and her wounds were wide open, making her vulnerable.
Was that why she had begged me, days ago, to take her against her will? Was that why she had been, invariably, rejecting my tender advances?
It all became clear now. Her insistence on roughness, the biting, the scraping, everything a testament to her abused past.
I had to stop, stop giving in. To prove to her that I was, indeed, the right guy.
I tore my lips away from hers, panting. Her eyes snapped open, regarding me with confusion. My gaze flicked over her beautiful face once before I gently untangled our arms and moved away.
My head fell back, and I stared at the ceiling, trying to control my raging emotions. I laced my fingers behind my neck and simply breathed.
Slowly, Madison walked closer to me and tugged on my left arm, unlacing my fingers.
“What is this? What happened?”
Frowning, I looked at what she was referring to. Her eyes were glued to the gauze wrapped around my forearm as she traced the wound with her small fingers. I had forgotten about it until then.
“I told Katie,” I whispered, and Madison’s tracing fingers stilled over my wrist.
Her eyes whipped up, fearful. “You…you did?”
I nodded. “I told her I…lied to her. That I’ve been lying to her all this time.”
“What…how…how did she take it?”
Clenching my jaw, I threw her a humorless smile. “She hugged me, Madison. I destroyed her, and she clung to me and fell asleep in my arms, the man who’s been lying to her.”
I hung my head in defeat and shame as my eyes burned with tears that I’d never be able to shed. Madison let go of my arm and cupped my cheek, softly. A shudder ran through me at her loving touch.
“Hey, it’s okay,” she cooed, her breath wafting over my lips. “Look at me. It’s going to be fine. I know you’re gonna make it fine. You’ll do everything in your power to make this right.”
Looking at the trust in her eyes, I whispered, fear evident in my voice, “I don’t think she can come back from this. I’ve destroyed her trust, Madison. I’ve deliberately misled her.” My body was pressing down on me, sagging, collapsing. And I held on to that light in Madison’s eyes that showed her trust in me.
“I’m not gonna lie and tell you that you didn’t fuck up. You did. You so fucking did. But that doesn’t mean you can’t make it right.” Her eyes bored into mine as she pressed her forehead against me, tugging on my hair. “You listen to me, James, I know you. Believe me when I say this. You’re a good man. Yes, you’ve made mistakes, but who hasn’t? You’re going to make it right. I know you won’t stop until you do.”
My arms encircled her waist, and I pulled in for a soft kiss. She was right. I would not stop until I fixed it, made it go away.
“We’re leaving tomorrow,” I whispered against her lips.
Something fractured in her eyes. The pieces of it shimmered in the form of tears. But then she smiled. “Okay.”
“Will you…uh, do you want to stay just for tonight? With me?”
It hit me then that she had a fiancée. I had forgotten about the engagement. I had forgotten that she was someone else’s now.
“I don’t care about her. I never did. I’m…” she said, exhaling, as if reading my mind, like she always did. “Yours.”
She wrecked me.
Looking at her trembling lips, wobbling chin, and smoky eyes, the knot in my chest grew strangling. I hauled her up, and her legs wrapped around my waist as I carried her over to the couch. She straddled my lap and burrowed her face in my neck, sniffling, her hot tears burning the skin of my neck.
Crushing her to my chest, I whispered, “I’m yours, too.”
She quivered in my arms, and then her breathing shifted. We both changed, let loose by our declarations. Madison kissed me, hard and fast, her breath mingling with mine, wet and misty with need. It was so tempting, the frenzy with which she tugged on my shirt and began taking it off, but I stopped her yet again.
Without a word, I gently disentangled our limbs and nudged her to lie down. She stared at me as I took off her clothes and then my own. My hands were trembling, my entire body was trembling with the effort to take it slow, do this right.
I paused then, afraid to touch her but dying for her all the same. I had touched her multiple ways before, touched her and hurt her, and in this moment, I was regretting everything, regretting being so rough on her.
“Hey, what are you thinking about?” she whispered, heartbreak reflecting on her face.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I never thought you’d say this.” She smiled.
“Madison, I—”
“Hey, I know.” Her fingers caressed my cheeks. “I know you’d never hurt me, James. Scott has taken a lot from me over the years, and I’m not saying that I’m magically cured. But don’t let him take this from me, please? Touch me, okay? Touch me however
you like.” She pecked my lips. “Touch me the way I like.”
“I regret everything I did to you, every scratch, every drop of blood I made you shed.”
Tears slid down the corner of her eyes and into her silky hair. “That’s the worst thing you could do to me, James. That’s the worst kind of hurt you could inflict on me. I can take anything but your regret. Please don’t do that. The fact that you cut me healed me more than anything ever could.” She shifted beneath me, restless. “Please, don’t hurt me like this. I can’t…can’t take it.”
I captured her sob with my heated kiss. Her beautiful sigh echoed in my mouth.
I’ll be whatever you want me to be.
My urge to hurt and her urge to take it might be the most wrong thing we had ever indulged in. Maybe this was interdependence at the most toxic level, but for tonight I would put the right thing on hold.
Because after tonight I wouldn’t ever see her again.
The first time when we made love that night, it was fast, heated, animalistic. I pressed my hand over her mouth to muffle her cries. The next time it was slow and sticky but with our brand of roughness and intensity. Our gasps were louder than shattering screams. I traced every part of her body, memorizing the texture of her skin, the bumps and curves. I counted laugh-lines around her eyes and mouth, all while kissing her tears. I kissed the cuts I gave her a couple of days ago, licking the scabbed-over skin, making her shiver.
Madison kissed the cuts on my abdomen, maybe even counted them.
“Hey, I realized something,” she whispered to my head when I was busy lapping her pussy.
“What?” I mumbled into her moist flesh.
She squirmed, chuckling. “You bleed the way I cry.” I paused and looked up at her, wiping my lips with the back of my hand. “Your cuts are like the tingling in my nose, you know, when I’m about to cry. I get this itch. Your skin itches the same way. I cry tears and you cry blood. We’re the same.”
She shot me a brilliant smile, and I could not help but smile with her.
“Will you cut me again?”
I nodded, powerless to refuse her.
A War Like Ours Page 26
