by Bry Ann
“Lacey,” he says firmly, making the air freeze. He softens his voice. “What’s going on? Why can’t I touch you?”
“I…”
His hands find the ends of my sweatshirt.
“Adam, don’t!” I screech, panic swelling inside me. His hands fly off of me.
“Lacey?” “I…”
Like a freak, I sprint into the bathroom and slam the door, locking it. I hear him calling my name on the other side.
“Lacey. Lacey, let me in right now!” His voice is the firmest it’s been with me since we got together.
“I just need a minute,” I call out.
“What happened? I’m worried. Are you okay?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “How do you stand to be with me?” I whisper, and of course he hears me. “Let me in, Lacey,” he says quietly.
I shake my head. “No. I need a minute. Don’t you dare pick the lock.”
He laughs softly, sad. “Lacey, I think you are beautiful.” “Don’t feed me lies. I’m not beautiful. I’m hideous.”
I snatch the razor from the shower and run it down my calf. Then my other one. Then my inner thigh. I have to slide my hands up my baggy jeans to get there.
Then I switch to my stomach. I can’t stop. I’m gross. I’m gross. Like a mantra. Kev’s horrified face pops into my head.
“You’re too quiet in there. Lacey, what are you doing?” Adam slams a fist on the door. He’s never done that, never succumbed to his anger around me. Not in here. Not since we’ve been together.
“Answer me! Please.”
I can’t. I’m too full of shame. I’m entranced. I’ve finally found that blissful place of nothing but physical pain and numbness. I slide the razor along my arm. Numb. I feel the door I’m leaning against push open. I’m sent sideways, but I don’t think about it. I just rearrange.
“Oh Jesus, Lacey. What did you do?”
I glance up. He makes the numbness slip away. I hate him for that.
“Go away!”
“Little dove,” his voice cracks, and tears slip out of his eyes.
That snaps me back to reality in an instant. I look up at him and down at myself. I gasp and throw the razor across the room like it’s on fire. I quickly shove down my sleeves and make sure my pant legs are down. When I’m sure I’m all covered I look around the room, anywhere but him. I feel the stinging start to settle in as the numbness drifts away. The blood oozing down various parts of my body. The shame settles into my stomach like a weight.
Adam is looking down at me where I’m curled up on the floor.“Why did you do that?” I shrug.
“No! I need you to answer me.”
I feel dizzy. Really dizzy. Why did I do that? Adam won’t let me leave without an answer.
“How do you stand to be with me?” “I don’t even know what you mean.” “I’m hideous! I took my jacket off in front of Kev, Kevin, today. He was so repulsed. He’s a man and you’re an even more… I don’t know, you’re a manlier man, if that makes sense. If he thought I was repulsive... God… is this guilt?”
I gesture between the two of us. The nausea finally boils over. I lean forward and puke all over the floor. Adam is quickly by my side, holding my hair back. I start to shiver. I feel dizzy. My stomach feels off and I feel gross from vomiting and cutting. I have to fight to hold back from crying like a child.
“God, Lacey. Shh… it’s okay.”
Adam wraps his arms around me, disgusting self and all. I sniffle and hiccup to replace my tears.
“You think I’m with you out of guilt? Really? Lacey, I think you’re incredible. I think your body tells a story and it’s stunning. Every curve, every scar. Please. Don’t base your self-esteem on some kid.”
“But…”
“No! You know whose opinion matters when it comes to your body? Yours. And mine.” He grins. “We’re the ones who are going to be seeing it.”
“You’re lying. You can’t think I’m nice to look at it.” “Let’s get you cleaned up, then let me show you. You know I think words are shit. Let me show you what I think of your body.”A shiver runs up my spine. My body tingles. But my stomach is empty and I really do feel dizzy.
“Okay. I’ll shower and clean up. You can get ready.”
“Let me make sure you’re okay.”
Adam reaches for my sleeve. I pull away.
“Adam…”
“Lacey,” he says casually, pulling up my sleeve with ease as I fight to get away from him.
“Fuck,” he hisses when he sees my arm. “Fuck. Fuck.”
“Can I please brush my teeth?” I ask quietly.
He sighs. “Yes.”
He first wraps something around my arm, not aware of the other cuts. People always think it’s just the arm. When he’s done, he helps me to my feet. I sway slightly, but he keeps a hold of me as I viciously clean out my mouth. His fancy bathroom starts to reek of my vomit.
“Your bathroom,” I whisper when my mouth is clean. Adam’s eyes darken furiously.
“Our bathroom. And when we get you cleaned and changed, I’ll send someone in to clean it up.”
I bite my lip.
“How many times do I have to go over this with you? I pay them well. More than. It’s what they are here for.”
“But…”
“Shh, come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.” I shriek when he goes to take off the rest of my clothes. He pinches the bridge of his nose, but gets it together quickly when I sway on my feet. He reaches out and snatches my wrist.
“I’m not judging, but I need to be able to help you.”
“Adam, please…”
“I love you. I may be mad sometimes, I may not understand, but at the end of the day, I’ll help you. I’ll love you. It’s not always easy for me, but I deserve it. Not saying I don’t. I just need you to understand how that me being angry does not mean I don’t love you anymore or that I’ll judge what you’ve done or that I’ll find you any less desirable. I just need time to make peace with things. Do you understand?”
I nod. “Good. Now strip, little dove.”
I fumble with the buckle of my jeans. Once they are unbuttoned, I slip my sweatshirt and tank top off, revealing the large gashes along my abdomen. Even I’m not sure how much damage I’ve done. Adam doesn’t say anything. He walks over and slips down my pants. I trip over a leg and fall into him.
He catches me.
His eyes roam over my naked form once, keeping his face impassive, except for the slight twitch of his jaw that gives away his concern.
“I’ll call the doctor. We’ll get you cleaned up before he gets here.”
“Adam, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We both know it’s my fault.”
He walks out and calls the doctor. The doctor. Maybe I can kill two birds with one stone here.
Sven
“Look,” I spin the gun around on my fingers. I have no intention of using it, but he doesn’t know that, now does he?
“This can be done the easy way or the hard way.” “You can kill me! I still don’t know who told him to do business elsewhere.”
I tsk. “What a shame. What’s the name of that website you are subscribed to? Ashley Madison, right? Your wife know? Your kids? Teens, right? Boys.”
He goes white.
“You can’t tell them! God, I’ll do anything. She’ll fucking leave me.”
“Sounds like you have a good woman then.”
“What do you want?” “Are you a fucking idiot? I want to know who told your boss to go with a different seller.”
“Roman Vasquez. He was the one, I swear! Please don’t tell them.”
I spit on the ground in front of him and walk off. That’s how it’s done. No violence. Minor threats. No bloodshed. Answer in five minutes.
What a pig. I will fucking tell them, because he has his wife, and is a piece of shit to cheat on her for meaningless sex. That family deserves to know who’s ‘head of the house’.
I
get driven back to the house and text Boss the name. I’m sure he’ll give the job of offing that guy to Frances. Unless he’s feeling generous, then he’ll have Gioele make sure he becomes a client of ours. Spread our word instead of whatever asshole he’s working for.
My job is done.
I get back to the house. I hear vague shrieking from Lacey, but who the hell knows what’s going on with her? I saw the doctor’s car in the parking lot. Whatever, I guess.I go in my room, shut the door, and pull out a bottle of brandy and a notepad and pen.
Rose-
Holding true to the little violence thing. Since we got Lacey out, I haven’t shed a drop of blood. Well, do you count punching people in the face? I can’t help it if they’re weak and bleed under my fist.
You’d count that. I know you would. Okay, so that promise is broken, too.
These letters make me sound like a fucking kid. But we don’t ever really grow up, do we? Not when our childhood is one big fuck of a mess.
These letters hold me together. I thought I was whole until I met you. Then you showed me what I was missing and made sure I’d never have it.
Fuck you, Rose.
-Sven
“So, tell me about Savannah.” “She took care of my needs.” The therapist cocks an eyebrow. “Interesting wording. Did she take care of you?”
Rose really would have been great at this.
“Kept me alive. All that shit.”
“Sven.” She leans forward in her chair. I instantly flash back to the number of times Rose told me in her all too serious voice that I’d only get out of treatment what I put in. That feels like so long ago now.
“Let’s skip the ‘shit’, shall we? Tell me what your childhood was like. What did Rose mean to you? You have to break something down to rebuild it. You seem like the kind of man to understand that.”
I can’t deny her intelligence.
“I grew up in a gang or a criminal organization of some sort. They used me for an outlet. I was their toy. Savannah was my caretaker. I thought she was my mom until she was murdered for cheating on Gregario. She was their hooker and apparently had a side gig as my caretaker.”
I laugh bitterly.
“I got out as soon as I could.”
“What did Rose mean to you?” The therapist asks softly, trying to be delicate with me. I’m a drunk, arrogant criminal. She wouldn’t be the one to break me.
“I felt things for her. Hasn’t happened since…”
“Savannah.”
“Yes.”
“Did she feel for you?”
“In some ways, I think she did.”
“And others?”
“She hated what I am.”
“What did you think of that?”
“I….” I glare at her, and clamp my mouth shut. “I can’t talk about this.”
“Does it make you sad?” “Lady, I’m not fucking around here. Drop it!” “Alright, Sven. Next time.”
“No next time!” “We’ll see,” she adds wryly.
“Are we done?”
“We’re done.”
I storm out of there. On the way up to my room, I almost look for someone to talk to, but there’s no one. It’s the loneliest I’ve felt in years.
I faintly hear commotion in Boss’s room, but I ignore it and grab a bottle. I don’t want to drink. I don’t want to be this way. But my job’s done. I’ve done the self-help thing Boss asked of me. I got the info he needed.
All I have left to come home to is a half-empty bottle of Jack.
Boss
I’m mad at her, and I know I have no right to be. I’m not sure if I’m mad at her or the situation in general. I just don’t know, but I’m angry. The problem is that after all I’ve done, I know she doesn’t understand that just because I’m angry doesn’t mean I love her any less, so I’m trying to stay calm. Trying to take in how she feels, because Lacey hasn’t lapsed in months. She must have really been feeling terribly about herself, really felt I truly found her disgusting. And that numb, disconnected look in her eye? I think that disturbed me the most.
I’m pacing the room as the doctor stitches her up. Lacey’s acting weird around him. I keep studying the doctor to see if he’s hiding something, but he’s calm as always. Lacey, on the other hand, is looking at him with a wariness I’ve never seen before. Is it the cuts? No. She knows he’s not judging her. Doesn’t she? Damn it. This whole episode has made me wondering if she’s as comfortable as she lets on. Lacey’s great at hiding pain, and I’ve let my guard down around her, trusting her at her word. With her safety and health, that’s a mistake. She doesn’t treasure herself enough for that. She doesn’t understand normal, because I took that from her.
And she sure as fuck doesn’t understand safety or trust.
She loves me, but she doesn’t trust me. I know that. I fucking know that, and I still let this happen.
I’m not mad at her. I’m mad at myself.
“Adam,” I hear her say quietly. She’s embarrassed. Hiding from me. It’s like deja vu.
“Yes?” I turn around, jaw tight. She notices instantly. I see her feet twitch, desperate to hide herself. Protect herself. I force my face to relax.
“Yes?” I repeat, clearing my throat.
“Can we have a minute?”
Her voice is soft, but she might as well have screamed it. I whip around, ramrod straight.
“Why?” I know my voice is harsh. I can’t stop it.
“I… Please,” she says, barely audible. What is going on with her? She was almost comfortable for a while. Now I feel like we’re back to day one. Is it Kevin that set her off, or something else? It had better not have been Kevin, because I swear to God, I will kill him.
The doctor turns. “I just want to run over some information with her. It’s private. Female information. Stuff was affected by her captivity. It would be uncomfortable for her to discuss it in front of you, no?” He cocks an eyebrow. I’m not even mad because he said the magic words: because of her captivity.
“I’ll be outside,” I mumble. “Right outside.”
I walk over to kiss her. She leaps back like she expects me to hit her, nearly pulling out her stitches in the process. She might as well have punched me in the gut. That fucking hurts. She catches herself quickly and looks at me wide eyed and horrified. Her eyes hold an apology I want to accept, but I’m hurt. No one can hurt me like she does.
She can. She just did.
“It’s fine,” I say.
“I…”
“Don’t worry about it Lacey,” I say as gently as I can, as I walk out the door.
“I’m sorry,” I hear her whisper as I walk out the door.
I pace the hall furiously. Something’s wrong. I sense it. It’s not her fucking period. I know it in my gut. Her eyes always give her away, and I know that doctor will always put Lacey before me. Before the danger I pose to him. I can’t fault him for that. I just can’t. For her. Anyone else would be dead for crossing me. He’s as calm as could be doing it, because he knows I love Lacey. He’s seen it time and time again, and he knows I’d destroy Lacey if I hurt him. So he’s safe.
I want to throw that door open and demand information. I have to calm myself. I’m not used to restraint. I get what I want. Especially if it’s information, like the name Roman Vasquez. He won’t live to see tomorrow. I’ve heard his name more than once now. I’m not a trigger happy person. I prefer cunning and using people to my advantage, but if your name hits my desk more than once… you’re gone.
I tap my foot on the floor over and over. Lacey hasn’t cooked in weeks. That should have been the first sign that she was disturbed. I make note of that, to look out for that in the future. I run through everything, trying to see where I went wrong, when I hear noises coming from inside. The doctor is saying Lacey’s name over and over again.
She’s not responding.
I barge into the room, nearly kicking the door off its hinges. Something is wrong. What the hell did he
just tell her?
I look at him. Rage is emanating off of me. He knows it, he’s scared, but he doesn’t take his hand off Lacey. She’s on the floor. Just gone. She’s pale white, unmoving, in a heap on the ground. The doctor has his hand on her back trying to bring her back to the present.
“Lacey? We can work it out. It’s okay. It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”
“What the hell is wrong with her?” I roar. I know things are bad, because she doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t react to my anger.
As she stays completely frozen, I look to the doctor. He’d better fucking tell me, because I’m barely hanging on…
“I understand,” he says, like he really does understand. It’s in his eyes. Lacey asked him to withhold information. He didn’t want to. It’s evident, and the thing keeping him in one piece. “But it is really not my place to tell you. It has to be her.”
“Fine. Come back tomorrow. At least call. We’ll go from there, since I have no idea what the fuck is going on. Be warned: If I don’t find out from her tonight, I will personally be breaking down your door and you will tell me.”
“She’ll tell you,” he says confidently as he walks out.
He’s positive. That calms me in a weird way. I quickly shut the door behind him. I throw my jacket off, roll up my sleeves, and walk to Lacey. I scoop her off the floor and set her on the bed. The second I try to pull away, she starts desperately reaching for me. She’s still not present, but subconsciously, she won’t let me go. I sit down and let her burrow into me. Literally. She crawls right into my lap and hides as much as she can in my body. I rub her hair back. It’s so soft. So healthy, compared to the hair I stroked a year ago. Hair that was brittle and lifeless. I wish I could give that kind of revival to her soul.
“Talk to me, Lacey. What’s going on?”
She takes one more second to hide in me, then pulls away. She looks like a lifeless doll. Her eyes shifting between focusing and unfocusing. “Adam, I…” Her eyes start to water. For the first time ever, when she’s in a state like this, she turns to look me directly in the eyes.
“Adam, I’m pregnant.”
