AJ's Salvation (14 page)

Jam looked as if she had asked him to walk through fire and then peel his skin off all by himself. “Aly, I’m not going to tell you …”

“Who did it? I guessed as much.” And she didn’t need him to tell her. She’d figure that out; she just needed to hear about enough scars to maybe find a pattern. He stared at her for a long moment and then ran a hand through his hair, staring over her head at the waves crashing on the shore.

“Fine,” Jam finally agreed, and she took his hand, kissing it softly. He gave her a shaky smile. “You can do better than that, can’t you?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. She laughed breathlessly, relief making her almost dizzy as she pushed herself onto her tiptoes to kiss him deeply and then lead him inside.

He was getting more nervous with every step as they approached the house, and once they stood in the living room, he spread his arms wide. “How do you wanna do this, huh?” He wanted to know; his tone proved how much he was on edge.

“Take off your shirt,” she whispered, suddenly unsure if she should push him toward this or not.

“I always imagined you saying those words to me, but not like this.” He laughed humorlessly, and then pulled his hoodie and his shirt off, staring at her. Aly swallowed, walking around him, wondering where to start. She found a spot on his back, touching it. “A chair. It bruised my ribs and got taped but didn’t exactly heal the way it should because it was reopened again and again,” he said through clenched teeth. Aly leaned in and kissed the scar before touching the next one.

“I hit a table corner. It hurt for weeks, especially because that spot was hit again and again,” he reported, his voice having gone flat. Aly kissed that, too, then moved on. He had so many marks on his body that she wanted to cry. In fact, silent tears were running down her cheeks. Thirty minutes later, she knew she had a victim of abuse in front of her, but her mind couldn’t figure out when this happened. Jam sometimes told longer stories and sometimes just gave one-word answers.

Finally, she walked around to him, touching his lips. “This?” she asked, and he looked away from her. 

“I was repeatedly punched. I stayed inside the house for weeks, refusing to see anyone until most of the swelling had gone away. The cut on my lip opened again and again because I was slapped a few more times.” Finally, she had a hint of when this had happened, and it made her gasp. She remembered those weeks. Greg had been more than pissed for not seeing his best friend, and even afterward, Jam had basically said nothing about where he’d been. At that time, he had lived with his mother after his father had left them and never returned, but his mother wasn’t a violent person. In fact, she had been as close to the walking dead as one could get. Besides, Jam hadn’t been so small that pushing him around had been easy. He let all those things happen to him, and she couldn’t figure out why for the life of her.

“Why, Jam? Why did you let someone do that to you? You’ve been tall for as long as I can remember. You were a quarterback in high school, for God’s sake! Why?” She stepped back, thinking about all the things she had ever heard about domestic violence. There was no denying that men, too, could be on the receiving end of violence, especially if they tried to protect their kids or … it hit her then. The small, bruised body he had given her for safekeeping. All the stories she had heard.

Her knees gave out as the thought settled in her body, growing and throwing shadows until she could almost tell him his own story. Only how had they created a child together if she had repeatedly beaten him? Why had he never reached out?

“Collene. Oh God, Jam, it was Collene.” Agony crossed his features, and he reached for the plain white tee, pulling it over his head before walking over to her door, resting his hands on either side of the doorframe. 

“People wouldn’t have believed me. You know her. You knew her back then, too. She was small, a blonde doll, and everybody’s darling.”

“People were scared of her and her influence, so of course she was everyone’s darling. You feared retaliation if you said something against her,” Aly whispered, her voice breaking with choked sobs. “You need press charged, Jamison.”

“I don’t. She’s gone, and this whole nightmare’s been over for close to ten years. As soon as I realized that no one knew where my son was, I left. She no longer had any leverage over me.”

Aly jumped up, her outrage making her almost scream. She wanted to hurt Collene for all she had done to Jam. “She was the reason you and I weren’t together. You preferred
all this
to
me
?” she asked, disbelief coloring her voice.

He spun around so suddenly that Aly took a step back, hating herself for being afraid. “I didn’t prefer anything, Alessia. You have no fucking idea what I’ve been through in those years. Don’t you dare put a guilt trip on me now just because you didn’t get exactly what you wanted, okay?
I
never got what I wanted,” he spat, and she hugged herself.

“Why did you stay with her? You could have walked away the first time you realized what she was like! Why stay with her, Jamison? Tell me! Why fuck a woman who punches you? Slaps you? Makes sure your wounds don’t close properly?”

“You don’t have any idea, Aly, and I sure as hell won’t enlighten you. I did it because I had my reasons, and as much as I wish I had seen a different way, I didn’t. Don’t judge me, Aly. Not for this. Judge me for having been so selfish as to believe we could get over this without me ever telling you my deep, dark secrets. Judge me for wanting a life with you and my son now. Judge me for having hopes, but don’t you dare judge me for those years.” He was shaking with anger, and Aly couldn’t see past her breaking heart. He had tears in his eyes, and she knew she should be comforting him instead of challenging him, but she just couldn’t believe that she had hurt all those years because he had wanted
Collene
.

“If you don’t tell anyone, you’ll never get over it. You’ll never be free for a future if the past is your constant companion. Press charges, Jamison, no matter how long ago it was. I can’t and won’t believe that our great country will let her get away with that!” 

He laughed a bitter laugh, making her skin crawl. “Right, Aly,” he said, stalking toward her until he was almost nose-to-nose with her. It took every ounce of will not to shy away from him. “I’m just gonna walk into the police station in Townsend and tell them that the mayor’s daughter had belittled, threatened, and beaten me for years. Me—a guy who’s about three heads taller and twice her size. A once pretty successful quarterback, as you pointed out. I’ve been lifting weights since I was sixteen, Alessia.” Her name sounded cruel coming from his lips like that. She couldn’t stop herself from crying. 

“So? What was it she had on you?” She could see in his eyes that he wanted to tell her but then decided against it, a vicious smile playing over his beautiful lips.

“Why? Weren’t you the one insinuating that I preferred her to you? What else would she need on me? I couldn’t walk away, and I didn’t want to. We created a child together, remember?” He started walking again, and she finally moved back until her back hit the door and she couldn’t go anywhere else. “You know how babies come to be, right? A boy and a girl get naked together. They spend a few hot hours together. Boy, Collene is into some crazy shit in the bedroom.”

“Yeah, beating up people,” she breathed, her words barely hearable. 

“Oh, handcuffs and leather, wax and other stuff. Things someone like you would never understand or approve of. After all, look how easily it was for me to get you off on that sofa a few nights back.”

The tears finally dried on her cheeks, as she felt nothing but numb. That night had been one of the most intense and sweet experiences of her entire life, and he now made it sound as if it had meant nothing to him.

She couldn’t think of one word to reply.

“Collene and I had a relationship that no one ever will understand, so don’t even try.”

“You’re damaged,” she finally said, meaning that he needed help. Deep down, she knew he was lashing out since she had cornered him. He showed all the signs: he was shaking, but it was clear that it wasn’t anger. He was pale, and as much as he tried to appear scary, the look in his eyes was nothing but haunted.

“I’m dark and twisted, Alessia. There’s a difference.”

“Take back your life, Jam. Go and see a psychologist. It’s not your fault you’ve been abused, Jam. Talk it over with someone. Find a lawyer. Find a way, Jam,” she pleaded.

“Stop saying my name, Alessia. I’m in full control of my life.” She wasn’t sure he was even aware of the tear that slipped down his cheek as he pushed back; looking at her as if it was the last time he’d ever see her.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she tried again, her voice breaking. Finally, he shook his head, and she thought she had reached him.

“No,” he admitted. “It was yours.” Aly had never known pain like this. 

“Out!” she screamed, and he looked at her with something akin to satisfaction. She should have known then that this was exactly what he had aimed for, but his words had cut her too deep.

“As you wish,” he said with a fake bow, leaving afterward. The moment he was gone, Aly sank down the wall, crossing her arms in front of her chest in a desperate attempt to keep herself together. It was useless, though; she was scattered into a million pieces and didn’t think anyone would ever be able to put her back together.

The first time Aly moved from the floor was when the doorbell rang. She knew Alessandro would come in through the back, so she guessed it wasn’t him. She prayed to whoever was listening that it was Jam. She hadn’t forgotten any of the words he had said, but she wanted to work through the issues with him if that was what he needed. She couldn’t possibly get herself to forgive him, but maybe, over time, they’d be able to work through that, too.

She didn’t bother to change, but she checked her face in the mirror just to make sure she wouldn’t scare away an unsuspecting mailman. 

Her heart plummeted though the moment she saw who stood on her doorstep. This couldn’t possibly be happening. Not there, not now, where she was ripped open and raw anyways. 

“Alessia. Hey, love. Can I come in?” The woman passed her without even waiting for an invitation, walking over to her living room without any suggestion from Aly at all.

“I’m going to make this quick. I’d be very pleased if you could run upstairs and pack a bag for Zack. I’m going to take my grandson home, and we both know you have no say. In fact, you have no chance to keep him, so why not make this as quick and painless as possible? I know he’s not here right now, but he’ll be back in no time.”

Zack must have been the name Collene had given her baby boy. “Mrs. Karmison, what the hell are you doing here?” she asked, gripping her own elbows tighter to avoid doing something stupid. The woman across from her, who had settled down on Aly’s sofa without any prompting, clasped her hands together in her lap. 

“Okay, you want the long version. I’ve known where my grandson was for almost all his life. I hate to admit that I considered you, a stranger, safer for him than my own daughter.”

“You know the monster she is,” Aly accused, and Mrs. Karmison had the decency to look embarrassed. 

“Of course, I know. I’ve lived with her father all my life. Collene had two choices. Either she was going to turn into her own mother or her own father. In her case, it was the father. The first time he ever hit her, she was four. At six, I think, I saw the cruelty in her eyes for the first time. I won’t lie. I started hating my daughter then. She treated me like her father treated me. But once he started focusing his anger on her, I was off the hook. It was a reprieve, no matter how short-lived.”

“You should’ve taken your daughter and run,” Alessia snapped, and Mrs. Karmison nodded.

“I should have, but I was never brave enough or had the means to do so. Disappearing costs a lot of money, Alessia …”

“Since you’re not exactly here as a friend, I’d prefer it if you could call me Miss Rhyme. I’m no longer a little girl,” Aly demanded. Unspoken anger replaced her numbness. It was one thing letting Jam destroy her life like that, but she would not allow a stranger to tear apart what she considered her family.

“I can tell, Miss Rhyme.” To Aly’s utter disbelief, the features on the other woman’s face softened.  “You’ve raised a great little boy. His grades are outstanding. He’s a friendly little guy.”

“You can’t possibly know that,” Aly whispered, leaning against the wall to find at least some support. She wouldn’t sit in front of this woman because as long as she looked down at Collene’s mother, Aly had the feeling she was at least slightly in control.

“Oh, I don’t have any money, Miss Rhyme, but my husband does, and as long as I do whatever he asks of me, I can use it. And I have paid the best private investigators I could find. I probably have more pictures of you and your son than you can imagine.” For the second time in as many days, Aly wanted to collapse and never get up again. Her eyes flickered across the room, searching every corner for a camera she hadn’t noticed so far.

“Oh please, I have some integrity,” her intruder explained, and Aly focused back on the woman. “I do think, though, that you’ve talked to some of the PIs. Like a few weeks ago, there was this guy in your café and he ordered a black coffee with a spoon of cinnamon sugar.”