In the Garden of Discontent

by Lily White

  Every step she made as she walked toward me was a heavy thud of bone and flesh, her skin sticking as she lifted her foot, an aftershock beneath me as she stepped again. She was next to me, a flash of silver, my head slamming against the table, pain splintering across my skull as the glass of soda rattled over the surface and almost tipped.

  Fingers gripped into my hair, stroking it down my back before her hand splayed against my head to hold me in place. The first snip echoed into my understanding, a tug, jerking my head that weighed too much.

  My thoughts caught up to what was happening. I tried to fight, but couldn’t.

  “Hold still, Ensley, or this will hurt.”

  My tongue was too full in my mouth, lips parting and closing with the need to argue, to yell, to beg her to stop. Another snip. Another. I flinched at the cold metal that touched my skin, my mother’s voice telling me to hold still, the sharp points digging into my skin with every cut until there was hot liquid dripping down my back.

  And it did hurt. It hurt so bad.

  “Look what you’ve done.”

  She dug the scissors in harder. Snipsnipsnip.

  “We have to get it all if it’ll be worth anything.”

  Another snip and the points dug into my skin deeper, dragging across my shoulders, more hot, sticky drips as I tried to scream.

  And then it was done, my head stuck to the table, air burning the skin of my neck, my mother walking off with my hair in her grip after dropping the scissors down next to my face.

  “You’re such a doll baby, Ensley. So fucking pretty.”

  The soda sat in front of me, clear water running down the glass that was so pure against the droplets of blood that had splashed the surface around it.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Noah

  Present

  Fourteen was a bad year for Ensley. Well, in truth, they all were bad, but fourteen was when that tenuous hold she’d kept on a normal life had slipped away completely.

  I stared at the back of her head as she walked behind Sadie into the dining room, watched her dark hair move over skin that had a patch of rough and angry scars like ladder rungs across her neck and shoulder.

  Over the years, I’d thought about that morning and how I wasn’t sure she’d made it out of the house, even though I’d found her on the porch crying and bleeding. The girl I knew hadn’t made it out at least, hadn’t left the table where her mother had taken her hair. That wild, untamable hair, sheered like a sheep, blood soaking the back of her shirt because her mom couldn’t be bothered to patch her up.

  Ensley was just lying there on the dirty wood of the porch, eyes open but unseeing, and I’d swept her up to carry her to my house, panic shaking my muscles, anger driving a spear into my heart repeatedly.

  I wanted to kill for the first time in my life during that early morning when the sun hadn’t yet risen, wanted to raze that house with her mother still sleeping inside it. Wanted to set the whole thing on fire and dance in front of the flames.

  I don’t know who cared for the kids that morning, maybe her mother, or maybe they were left to fend for themselves. But Ens wasn’t there at 7-0-0 as usual. She could barely walk, a catatonic mannequin that couldn’t balance on her feet, a stiff replica of my best friend with tears leaking down her face and hands that kept patting at her head.

  It’s gone. It’s all gone...And then she would weep.

  It’s just hair, I’d answered, but we both knew it was so much more than that.

  I’d taken her to my house and plopped her down into the tub, clothes and all, had sprayed water over the back of her neck, my teeth grinding with every pained whimper that left her lips, but I had to wash the blood away before I could decide how to deal with the rest of the damage.

  The wounds needed stitches, yet all they got was a few bandages I’d found in a first aid kit.

  It was the best I could do at the time.

  An hour later and Ensley was laying in my bed wearing my clothes, not sleeping, just staring at a wall, drugged and hollow, and I stood above her not knowing that she had changed since that moment when I’d first tried to kiss her, that she was beginning a spiral that would lead us to now.

  I’m ashamed to admit that I’d helped her get dressed that morning and had admired her body, had actually become excited to see her naked flesh.

  There she was, bleeding and in pain, but all I could do was look at her body and think about how beautiful it was. I had an erection as I’d tucked her in my bed, and I’d run to the bathroom with shame to take care of the problem.

  I was in love with the girl. I may not have understood it then, but I definitely understood now. I would always be in love with her.

  Always.

  “Would either of you like some iced tea? Sweetened, of course. It’s just not right without sugar. Not for me anyway. I also have water and I believe a few cans of soda tucked away.”

  Sadie’s offer dragged me back to the present, stripped my eyes from the scars striped over the back of Ensley’s neck. Her fucking mother couldn’t just take the hair without leaving reminders of that night.

  As usual, Ensley somehow knew what I was thinking, my thoughts dragging her back because we were connected that way. She reached up to touch those scars, and I grabbed her hand before she could.

  Ens turned to look at me, memory haunting her eyes, that grey storm swirling. We were connected, the two of us, by invisible strings that were unbreakable over time or distance or heartache. We were unbreakable together, bound by a lifetime of promises and secrets.

  We turned a corner into the dining room. Sadie told us to take a seat at the large, formal table of dark wood and cushioned seats. I raced forward to pull a chair out for Ens, and she just rolled her eyes before sitting in it, made a big show out of rubbing her wrists after Sadie was out of sight.

  “You deserved it,” I muttered under my breath, just loud enough for her to hear me.

  Sadie brought out drinks first, nervous hands toying with her necklace as we made small talk while dancing around what Ensley had come to hear. Dinner was next, and while Sadie merely picked at her meal, Ensley and I ate like we were starving. We were offered dessert but refused. Ens couldn’t wait any longer to know the truth.

  Poor Sadie sat down in her seat like a bag of bones seeping stuffing from out of her sides because the stitches had finally come loose.

  “I lived with your father for three years, or I guess he lived with me whenever he wasn’t on the road. It wasn’t like he was around all that often with his business and all.”

  Every statement was followed by a scrape of the charm over the chain of Sadie’s necklace, every confession leaking out of her with sorrow and regret. It hadn’t been Sadie’s fault - everything that happened - but she carried the weight of it regardless.

  Ensley sat silent and listened, not moving, barely blinking, a catatonic mannequin once again, just like her parents had always left her.

  “He loved you, Ensley, more than I think you know, but your mother-“

  She practically spit the word, a regular ole noun that was somehow offensive. Mother like it meant the worst in the world. Mother as if it was as violent and degrading as rape. But that was the truth when speaking of the woman who raised Ensley.

  Tammy Bennett was a deep, festering wound on us all that would never go away, even if her ending had been so deliciously dark.

  “- she was a nasty woman, and I’m sorry to say that to you, Ensley. Really, I don’t mean to harm you in anything I have to say, but there is no other way to describe her, is there?”

  Ensley nodded her head, the motion mechanical and forced. I knew she agreed with Sadie’s assessment even if the truth of it broke her in pieces.

  The truth had been buried beneath the ground in the garden we created, a strip of land poisoned by sorrow while beautiful for the flowers I planted.

  The garden of discontent. We’d planted the first secret after...

  My teeth ground together, enamel c
racking. I chewed the bitter memories like pills.

  Sadie glanced to me before looking back at Ensley, her expression softening despite the hesitation in her eyes.

  “I asked Noah how much I should admit to you if the day ever came for us to talk, and he told me you should know everything. Is that correct, Ensley? Would you like to know everything regardless of how it might hurt?”

  Another mechanical nod, Ensley’s fingernails digging into the skin of her palms as she fisted her hands over the table.

  “Well, then I guess the first thing I should mention is that you were your father’s only child. Your brothers and sisters weren’t his. Your mother tried to play it off that they were, but he knew better. Still, he played along whenever he saw you because a child shouldn’t have to deal with that kind of betrayal. It’s one of the reasons he couldn’t be at that house too much. Those kids were a reminder of how his wife had been unfaithful. He supported them as much as he could financially, but he wasn’t their father.”

  I kept my eyes on Ens the entire time, held her in my stare, willed her to run to me again if she felt like she would break. Just like I’d done since we were kids. Run to me, Ensley, so we aren’t alone. I would catch her every time, no matter how fast or how far she’d gone.

  Her face had bleached white, the color draining as those grey eyes began to rain, tears slipping down pale cheeks to catch and run along her jaw. But she was strong, my girl, so damn strong, she sat still and took it, absorbing every word Sadie had to tell her.

  “Beyond that,” Sadie said, regret filling her voice, “I didn’t know much about your life in Florida. Your father mentioned it in passing, mostly, but he believed you were happy and cared for. That’s what you told him when he made his trips there. He had no reason to suspect-“

  She choked on that thought.

  The ugliness of it.

  The horrifying truth of how it had all spun out of control.

  Sadie’s voice dropped to a bare whisper, her charm slashing against the chain with long, deep strokes.

  “Honey, I don’t know how much you remember, but the last night I saw him, your father was angrier than I’d ever seen. He said something about a shed next to your house-“

  Ensley folded over herself at the mention of it, the secrets crawling up from the muddy ground between our two houses. A keening whimper rose up from her throat, muscles shaking over stiff bones. She remembered everything because how could a person forget?

  “He took off before I could stop him, had raced out of here like the house was on fire. He went to Florida to confront your mother and never came back.”

  Sadie shed a tear, wiped at it, and returned her hand to the charm.

  “I didn’t know what happened to him until I saw it on the news. I don’t know what happened that night, but I am sorry it happened. You didn’t deserve that. Those kids...”

  When Sadie’s voice trailed off, I held Ensley firmly in my gaze.

  Just run to me, Ens. Keep running. I’m right fucking here. Just like every time. Every night. Every year you endured a nightmare.

  We were just kids, but it never felt like it, not with the secrets we carried.

  I knew the instant Ensley buckled, her mind thrashing, that ugly thing inside her rearing its nasty head. You could hear its jaws snapping, chewing at her from the inside out in a bid to escape and raise hell.

  Shaking her head, Ensley pushed up on unsteady legs, her voice cracked and broken by the tears she refused to shed. “I can’t...I just can’t...”

  I was on my feet right along with her, hands reaching to catch her if she fell, my head turning to Sadie. “Is there a bedroom I can take her to?”

  Like a demon that needed to be exorcised, or a hollow space that needed filled, Ensley would lose her damn mind if she didn’t find a way to tamp everything back down again. She needed violence, needed someone strong enough to take it all from her, to help her wrestle down the ugliness that threatened to tear its way from her skin.

  Sadie nodded, pointed to the stairs.

  “I have one set up for you all to stay in tonight. Second floor. Third door on the left.”

  Nodding my thanks, I grabbed Ensley by the arms to lead her up the stairs and to the room. She thrashed to break my hold and turned on me as soon as I closed the door.

  “I hate you,” she hissed, hair wild around her face like it always had been.

  “I know.”

  Her body shook, and her shoulders wilted, arms curled around her body, fingernails digging into her skin. “I need-“

  “I know,” I said, stepping forward to grab onto her so she wouldn’t have to say it.

  Our eyes met in the shadow of that room. “You don’t need to say it. I know.”

  I’ve always known...but I couldn’t do anything about it.

  Ens melted in my grasp, like water through my hands, trying to slip away and escape so she could damage herself in some way I couldn’t stop, but I wouldn’t let her.

  Not this time.

  Not again.

  Gripping my hand over the back of her head, I pulled her to me, my mouth locking over hers, tongue risking the clench of her teeth because she would fight me tooth and nail while this happened, but that’s what she needed.

  To fight me.

  To injure me.

  Because she had never been able to fight them.

  Fingernails cut into my biceps, her body thrashing to break free, but I held on and kissed her like I was giving her the air she needed to breathe.

  Shoving Ensley down on the bed, I grabbed the back of my shirt to strip it off, every muscle in my body tense because I knew I was a bastard for wanting this.

  For wanting her.

  For taking advantage, even though it had never been my intent.

  Why had Sadie mentioned that damn shed? She’d never mentioned it to me before. If she had, I would have told her to leave it out of her confession.

  But here we were. It was this or something worse. I knew Ens. Knew her so damn well that if I let her go now, she would run headlong into disaster.

  “Take off your shirt.”

  She looked up at me with raging grey eyes, that summer storm now a monsoon with flashing lightning and thunder that rolled so hard it shook me where I stood.

  “No.”

  I grabbed her by the front, tugged her up until she was hovering over the mattress. “Then I’ll take it off for you.”

  Baring her teeth, she lifted her arms and let me pull the shirt over her head, a violent tug that shook her body, my hands reaching behind her back to shed her bra and toss it aside. Her fingers ripped at my hair when I lowered my head enough to take the tip of her breast into my mouth to bite.

  I’d be bloodied and bruised when this was over. But that was fine. I was a man. Her man. I could take it.

  Ensley cried out when my tongue lapped over the sensitive skin, my fingers tearing at the button of her pants, the fabric bunching as I pushed to my feet to rip it from her legs.

  She glared up at me with every ounce of hatred she felt, and I just smiled in return.

  “So pretty,” I said, knowing good and damn well what those words would do to her.

  “Like a fucking doll,” she answered.

  There she was.

  That girl.

  That monster she’d become.

  “Take off what’s left. I want to watch.”

  Ens’ body shook, memory assaulting her, but she needed me, needed this, needed to vanquish the hellscape reigning inside her through violence and hatred and lust.

  Slipping her fingers under the sides of her panties, she pushed them down her legs and stared up at me defiantly, daring me to tame her in ways she couldn’t tame herself.

  I was a horrible man for enjoying this. But it had been so long that I’d dreamed of her. Twenty-two years imprisoned in both mind and body. I couldn’t count how many nights I paced my cage like a lion waiting for the time to come that I could run free again.

  Shovin
g my pants off, my boxers following, I grabbed the shaft of my cock and pumped it twice, a grin curling the corner of my lips when her eyes drifted down to watch.

  “Like a good girl, remember?”

  Her eyes snapped to mine. “Fuck you.”

  “Fight me, Ensley. Do your worst.”

  I dropped down on top of her, my fingertips digging into her thighs as I shoved one leg aside, positioning my body just right while she raged beneath me, snapping her teeth and digging into my skin with her claws. And then I thrust inside, the air escaping my lungs at the feel of her wet heat, at the way her muscles bunched around me, pulling me deeper while she arched her chest to mine and moved her hips.

  “I’m a whore, right? A dirty slut?”

  “Yeah, baby, you are. Fucking filthy. But your pussy feels nice, so I guess you’re good for something.”

  This was dangerous, I realized, my hands gripping her hips to stop them, my body hard and beading with sweat because it had been so fucking long since I’d known a woman’s body. I didn’t have a condom or anything to protect us, but it couldn’t matter, not now.

  I just grinned and bared it, allowed her to thrash beneath me while I pumped my hips, holding her legs apart, pushing them wider as I punished her with every thrust and ignored the horrible things she said.

  One day - one fucking day - I would bring her back from this.

  “Harder,” she said, “Fuck me harder. Make it hurt. It doesn’t hurt enough.”

  I did, our skin slapping together, the muscles in her inner thighs must have been screaming for how far I held them apart and trapped, my hips slamming between her legs with such force it shoved her body up the bed. And she took it, every thrust, her nails scraping the skin from my neck and back to punish me as much as I punished her.

  Releasing one of her legs to reach up and wrap my fingers over her throat, I squeezed until her lips fell apart and she struggled to draw in air.

  “You stupid bitch, I might kill you this time for the fun of it.”

  Ensley smiled and came apart beneath me, fingernails still digging into my skin, her head thrown back and hair a mess over the mattress as her muscles contracted around me.