Violence Begets... (18 page)

“Pretty much,” I said vaguely, pulling
my wrist from her gentle touch.

She nodded. “Looks like it might not
be such a good idea for you to be alone tonight.”

“Thanks
Jessica, but like I said earlier…”

“Oh no, not like that,” she said, raising
her hands. “I only meant that I could be a friend if you need one. We are still
friends aren’t we?”

“You really are an amazing person,”
I said, smiling, knowing she truly meant what she’d said.

“I keep trying to tell you that,” she
replied, and the twinkle in her eye made me forget Kevin for a minute. I wondered
if I ever could make it work with someone like Jessica. For a moment, I wanted to
kiss her, but I knew it wouldn’t be fair to her, so I just smiled.

“Yes, I could use a friend about now.”

She kept the conversation light and
easy, which allowed my mind to wander to what had happened between me and Kevin.
I'd been so sure he was playing games with me, but when he’d hit me I'd seen the
real reason in his eyes. He was scared, and that changed everything. If he was scared,
then I knew that at least some of what he was feeling towards me was real. And I
had to face the fact that even though it was wrong, I wanted to be with him.

Having no idea what to do with this
information, I drank and flirted with Jessica. When I woke up in a guest room with
her next to me in the bed, my first thought was relief that she’d stayed with me,
immediately followed by dread. I hoped I hadn’t had sex with her again, but after
a quick inventory it appeared we were both still fully dressed. Sensing my panic,
she assured me that nothing had happened. I prayed that my dad had been too drunk
the night before to realize I hadn’t come home.

I skipped meeting the guys at the corner,
and arrived to the class I had with Kevin a little late, surprised to actually find
him there. He nodded at me, which completely threw all my warning bells into overdrive.
But after class ended, he simply gathered his stuff and told me he’d see me around.
After school, he continued to act like nothing had happened. He went back to the
cold, detached Kevin I’d met when I first moved to Salt Lake. I didn’t know if I
was thankful or terrified of this change.

This went on for weeks. I was once again
just one of his minions. He rarely looked at me, and when he did it was usually
to slam me for something. I pushed him a few times, and he cut me down with his
words but never came close to touching me physically. I knew this was what I’d wanted,
but I didn’t think we’d stop being friends. He had given up so easily, like I never
even mattered to him.

If I had never seen the other side of
him, I wouldn’t have cared. But I had. I’d felt his lips on mine. I’d seen the fear
in his eyes that last night, and I began to see my mistake in assuming he didn’t
care at all. He’d seen me shattered after a beating and had taken care of me. Why
hadn’t I thought about these other things before I'd flown off the handle? And now
he was simply there, not speaking to me—no sidelong glances when the others weren’t
looking, no soft touches as he brushed past me. And even though I’d tried to find
reasons to be close to him, he had always managed to stay clear of me. As much as
the thought of wanting him still made me sick at times, not having him in my life
was worse. He wasn’t angry or even all that cold towards me. He simply didn’t care
anymore, but once the idea of giving up everything for him had entered my mind,
I couldn’t seem to shake it, even if he didn’t care about me anymore. I did the
only thing I could do: I kept pushing for any sort of reaction.

Kevin

The room felt claustrophobic. I knew
my father had turned in for the night so I got out of bed, pulled on my coat and
threw my backpack over my shoulder. With my flask full and ready to go, I unlocked
my bedroom window and pulled myself out quietly. I’d been trying for weeks to shut
Rick out, and it wasn’t becoming any easier with time. That last night had shown
me just how dangerous he could be for me. I still had to get him into bed, but I
had to make sure I had control over myself first.

As I walked down the dark and abandoned
street, I wondered if the people in my neighborhood had any idea what went on behind
the closed doors of my house. Most of them saw us every week at church, and they
considered my father a respectable member of their congregation, a leader in the
community, and a strong example of what a man should be to his family. His reputation
had only been enhanced by the story he’d spun about my mom, addicted to pills and
running off with another man, leaving him to raise me alone. As I walked past house
after house, I realized I knew most of the people who sat behind these closed doors,
and I wondered if they had secrets as deep and dark as my family did. Or did they
all just go along in life pretending that evil didn’t walk among them?

Could they really be that naïve? Honestly?
Sure, there had been a few people who had questioned along the way, especially when
I had to miss school, but they were so easily convinced that all was well. It didn’t
hurt that we had money, not to mention my father’s good looks and charm. (Thankfully,
I had inherited those helpful traits from him.) At least one person along the way
had actually reported the suspected abuse, and an inadequate caseworker had shown
up at the house. The beating that followed after she left was one that would go
down in the history books. She never came back.

My father hated the idea of people thinking
I was anything other than perfect. On the rare occasion when he broke his own rule
of avoiding my face, I think people saw the bruises and assumed I’d been in a fight
at school, which my father hated, but not nearly as much as he would’ve hated the
truth coming out. No one had ever come right out and asked me what was going on,
even though people rarely saw me get into any sort of actual fistfight. Of course,
the church members didn’t think it was my father. He was doing the best he could
and it was understandable that I occasionally acted out, knowing the history with
my mom. It was helpful when it came to the guys because they assumed I was a fighter,
and that kept them in their place. Well, it kept all of them in place except Rick.

I was not beyond using violence as a
means to an end. But what I’d done to Rick had been a completely emotional response.
It was never good to fight from fear. It was dangerous and I knew better.

I hate the fucking cold,
I thought pulling my coat tighter, a
nd I hate being locked in the house with
my father
. I lived in the wrong state with all the fucking snow and freezing
temperatures.

My plan to shut Rick out was going perfectly.
When the right opportunity presented itself, I was ready to let him back in. I knew
if I cut him out, he'd be begging for my forgiveness. And, as planned, he wasn’t
happy with his demotion back to my groupie. I had to be careful since he knew the
truth about me, and I wondered how long it would take him to betray me—only a matter
of time, I was sure. But if I could hold him off at least until the end of the school
year, I might have a chance to escape the consequences of his betrayal. The only
way to do that was for me to remain in control. As long as I kept him coming to
me, I had the power to make sure he stayed.

By the time I got home from my walk
I was beyond cold. Once inside the house, I took several shots of Wild Turkey to
warm up. Rick was in my head. I’d considered going over to his house just to make
sure he was in his place, but I knew I had to play my cards right. I had to wait
until he was ready, and then he’d be mine for good. I could only imagine the sweet
satisfaction it would bring to finally have him. I pictured his body moving with
mine as I took care of my own needs before passing out.

I welcomed the next morning. It meant
one more night I’d been able to get through without facing my father, and the hangover
that always accompanied my mornings was almost unnoticeable. Regardless, I took
a shot to ease the headache. Starting the day off with a slight buzz made things
so much more tolerable. When I got to the corner, Rick was already waiting. He was
so predictable.

“You’re here early,” I said, glaring
at him. I wasn’t ready to play nice yet.

“You have a problem with that?”

“Don’t fucking push me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As usual, people started to walk past
us, making their way to school. A group of three girls walked by, and I could tell
they were trying hard not to look at us.

“Hey there, Beth!” Rick said, strolling
out to her. She smiled weakly at him but didn’t respond. He held his smoke out to
her. “Wanna try?” I think my mouth literally fell open. What the fuck was he doing?

She kept walking, faster than before,
and focused in on the conversation with her friends. Rick fell into stride with
them. “Hey, Beth, seriously, it’s not that bad.” He took a long drag of his smoke
and blew it at her. She was visibly upset and was trying hard to pretend he wasn’t
there. I didn’t like where things were going. This behavior was so out of character
for him. He kept up the act past several more houses while I followed slowly behind
him as he danced around them. I noticed, however, that he was getting angry and
kept looking at me. Then it hit me—he was desperately trying to get a fucking rise
out of me. This was not going to end well. He didn’t know how to play this game.

He swung his hand back and landed a
hard slap on Beth’s ass. She yelped out in surprise, turned and slapped him. I felt
like doing the same thing. I don’t think he realized what he was doing when he grabbed
her arm and spun her around so her arm was pinned behind her back. Then he wrapped
his other arm across her neck from behind. My mind went blank with shock and the
only thing I could think was Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Her body was pulled tight against
his and I found myself reacting. Fuck!

I stopped and several people around
us did the same thing. I know I should’ve stepped in and knocked his head off, but
I couldn’t get myself to move. We all watched Rick, uncertain of what he’d do. He
realized suddenly that people were staring at him, and I saw a flash of doubt cross
his face before he looked at me. He whispered in her ear and then roughly pushed
her away. She stumbled to the ground. Again, rage coursed through me at his behavior,
but I couldn’t tear my eyes from the unfolding scene.

He knelt down next to her, and I was
shaken to see he was using one of my tricks on her. He brushed the back of his hand
against her face and looked at me as he whispered something else into her ear. This
time he was ready for her hand as it flew at him. He caught her wrist and laughed,
never taking his eyes from mine.

My stomached lurched. I wanted to walk
away, to pretend I wasn’t interested, but he knew he had me. I couldn’t move as
he slowly came towards me. Leaving Beth behind without a second glance, he walked
right past me.

“Got your attention now, don’t I?” he
said arrogantly. My confusion and shock quickly evaporated as his smugness broke
through my dismay. I had to gain control of the situation.

“You think?” I retorted, turning quickly
to follow him. “You think your little performance was all that?”

“By the look in your eyes, I know it
was all that,” he said smugly. I hated him because he was right and because he had
forced my hand. Now I had no choice but to play his game.

“So what, you think I fucking care?”
I laughed, hoping I sounded sincere.

“I know you do.”

“Fuck off.”

“Where you going?”

“Away from here.” I was headed back
home to my territory where I could get him alone. He may have forced my move, but
I still had the upper hand.

“Am I invited?” he asked, smiling at
me.

“Don’t really care,” I said, picking
up my pace, trying to act like I didn’t care. When we got to my house, we hadn’t
said a word to each other, which gave me plenty of time to lay out a game plan in
my head. I stormed into my room and took another shot of Wild Turkey.

“Let’s have at it, Rick,” I said, spinning
on him, ready to play my cards. “Why is it you’re so fucking wrapped up with the
idea that your little scene with Beth got under my skin?” I took a deliberate step
towards him. “Is it possible that even though you claim you don’t want anything
to do with me, you actually long for my attention?” I paused for a heartbeat and
took another step. “And me?” I let my words sink in. As he clamored for a response,
I continued, “Does it make you feel better to get a rise out of me? Does it make
you hot when you look at me the way you did? Well, you know what, it makes me hot
too! It makes me ache to feel your body against mine! It makes me….”

“That’s not what this is about,” he
finally managed to interrupt me.

“Oh no, then why don’t you tell me what
your little act of voyeurism was all about,” I said, closing even more distance.

He started to back up. “Don’t you realize
what you’re doing to me?” he blurted out.

With a quick step, I was inches from
him. I smiled and ran my fingers down his cheek, just as he’d done to Beth. He’d
obviously not shaved before school and I could feel the roughness of his skin. He
shoved my hand away.