Denial (35 page)

I want to touch her, maybe hold her, something, anything to make this stop. But should I? Would it be better or worse? Do I call someone? Who? I could call Glory I guess, but she’ll call my father, or worse, Luke. Fuck that.

I really fucked up this time. Again. I should have clarified, been absolutely 100% positive that Maya knew what he wanted. I just didn’t want to hear her say it, I wanted to pretend it wasn’t real. Now look what fucking happened.

That sobbing is starting to sound wrong. Is she fucking choking? Can someone choke to death from crying? I do not have time to Google that shit right now. I pull the sheet that I covered her with down until I can see her shoulder. The collar. That’s probably not very safe. Fuck.

I’ve pictured ripping this thing off of her virtually every second since I laid eyes on her. None of the scenarios
were like this. My hands shake as I fumble with the clasp, sliding it carefully off of her neck. I’m not sure if she noticed or not, but that choking sound is still there. I toss the collar on the other side of the room and kneel over her. Her breathing is scary. Fuck. What the fuck do I do?

“Maya,” I whisper. Shit did that make it worse? Her breathing is a little better, but the crying is harder. Half a victory, I suppose.

I can’t take it anymore. I reach out and touch her back, just slightly. She whimpers, but doesn’t sound any worse, so I lay down beside her and tentatively move closer until my chest is barely touching her. There’s this painful squealing mixed in with the sobs when I nuzzle my face into the back of her neck through her hair. I am going to kill Luke, I swear to God.

Her breathing gets better, but the cries, the sobs, they’re getting deeper, these awful, mournful, horrible noises. I know them. I move closer until I’m wrapped around her and now I can feel the vibration of each moan and howl rippling through her into me. My heart is racing and now my own breathing is getti
ng faster. Fuck. Not now.

If I wasn’t laying down I’d be on the floor right now. I keep seeing my mother, not the woman, well girl really, that gave birth to me, and if I start thinking about her, I’m really going to fucking lose it. But my Mom, my brothers’ real mother, but I loved her more, I miss her more, and she was my Mom too. I’ve heard her cry a lot, it was never like this, but she cried all the time. Anyone would if they were married to my father.

But I’m not seeing her crying. Her face is scared, concerned, and she’s shaking me by the shoulders but I’m trapped and I can’t answer her. Then she’s on the phone, then Roger is there, and they’re talking about me. He’s saying something about needing to calm me down, she’s nodding. I think this is during the brief period when my parents separated because my father is coming to pick me up tonight and I’m so fucking terrified.

Maya’s weeping keeps rumbling through my chest, making me feel like I’m going to join her. I know why the feeling is so familiar. I’ve made these sounds. I’ve cried like this, not for years, since I was a kid, but I sounded just like this, maybe even worse. I freaked out that night, and I didn’t have to go see him. Roger put a pill on the back of my tongue and told me to swallow, but I choked on it and spit it back at him. Then he crushed it up and put the powder on his finger and shoved it under my tongue. It tasted awful then. Now it’s one of my favorites.

Everything got a little better and I started talking, which turned out to be a horrible idea, but I stopped freaking out. I’ve been on sedatives pretty much every day since then like I am now, and that’s the only reason I don’t sound like Maya. This is too hard to watch, and definitely too hard to hear and feel because if she doesn’t stop soon, I’m going to go down with her, and then I won’t be able to help her.

“Oh,
Rookie, it’s okay,” I whisper into her ear. “I’ll get you out.”

I know where she is now. She’s alone, in the dark. And there is no fucking way I’m leaving her in there.

It hurts like it always does when I pry myself off of her, and it makes her scream a scream I know well, filled with fear and loneliness. I tell her I’m coming right back but I know she can’t hear me where she is, so I’ll just have to be quick.

I’m sure there are all sorts of ethical issues with shoving crushed
anti-anxiety medication down someone’s throat when they don’t have any idea what’s going on, but like all things ethical, I’m just not going to worry about that right now. Trying to remember what sort of a dosage won’t kill a normal person, I rifle through my pharmacy until I find what I’m looking for. I guess I’ll start with one quarter of what I take at breakfast and go from there. I’ve read her medical history. She doesn’t have any allergies and says she isn’t taking anything, but you never know.

Even though I can’t get back to her fast enough, I take a detour get a wet washcloth and a bottle of water before running down the hallway. She hasn’t moved, but she’s definitely worse. Those choking breaths have got to be more dangerous than whatever the meds will do to her, right? I should probably call the paramedics or something, and if we were normal people in a normal situation, I would. But we’re not. It’s just too dangerous.

Telling her to sit up doesn’t work, but I’m not surprised, so I’ll have to move her myself. She stays in the little ball which actually makes it easier to get her upright. I wish I could just give her something to swallow, but she will undoubtedly choke on it. Roger was a doctor, and even though I probably have a bit more field medical training than your average person, there’s no way I’m risking it.

This is going to suck pretty bad. It tears at me to hurt her, but I’m out of fucking options. She winces when she tastes it and if her eyes weren’t already red and tear filled they would be now. They’re staring at me, but she isn’t seeing me and it’s been at least five minutes so I give her a little more.

“Maya?”

“How did we get in the bedroom?” she croaks

I sigh in relief and can’t help but smile. She’s back. “You ran in here and I followed you.”

“Did you give me something?”

Shit. Don’t fucking lie. “Um, yeah, sort of. Yes. Crushed Xanax. I’m sorry.”

“What the fuck?”

“I was afraid you were going to choke to death. It didn’t seem like you could breathe. I know what that’s like, it’s horrible. It was just a little bit.”

“It tastes so awful.”

“Here.” I’m so glad I got that water. “I couldn’t leave you in there.”

The way she’s looking at me tells me she knows what I’m talking about. “It’s okay. Thanks, I guess.”

I get up to find something for her to put on so at least she won’t be naked if she freaks out again. This little blue dress looks loose and comfy enough. When I turn around, she’s weeping again, but it’s a normal cry this time, normal enough anyway. I’m handing her the dress, but she can’t let go of that pillow, so I put it over her head and pile it around her shoulders like a scarf. Grabbing her wrists, I’m surprised at how little she resists me as I pull her arms through the sleeves. I pull the pillow up from under the dress and when I go to give it back to her, she throws her arms around my neck instead.

That rush that I get whenever she touches me or I touch her surges through me, making me hug her tighter. I love having her in my arms so much I’m starting to need it like air and water. My fingers go for her hair like they always do. I get warmer when I feel her body relax against mine as she exhales in relief.

“Maya I… I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry. I should have clarified when you told me that you knew.”

“You would have made me tell you first, then you wouldn’t have said anything when I was wrong.”

Fuck. She’s right. “Maybe.” I shouldn’t but I kiss her shoulder.

“So this worked out better.” She sits back, still in my lap. Even when she’s a total wreck, she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. It shocks me every time. “Thanks for getting me out.”

If I don’t do something, I’m going to kiss her, so I get up and convince her to drink more water. She gulps it down until she’s coughing. I wait until she’s better, then use the washcloth to clean that makeup off of her face. I usually hate the fake look, but she looked amazing dolled up like that. Especially that hair.

The cool cloth must be soothing, because she closes her eyes and leans into me. My stomach flips around. I wish I could do something more to make her feel better, but like always, I’m out of my element.

“I want to see those papers.”

“That’s not a good idea right now.”

“It’s over. It won’t make a difference. But the curiosity is still killing me.”

“You might get over this and regret it.” I hope not.

“No. It’s over. This is a total deal breaker.”

“Maya…”

She shifts backwards, leaning against the headboard. She’s so pretty it hurts to look at her, but it’s impossible not to. “No, it’s really, truly, completely over.” Don’t get too excited. “It has been for a while, even before I came here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t love him. I wanted to, but I don’t.” Her voice cracks. I don’t know anything about it, so I have nothing to say. “I should have seen this coming.”

“He’s never done that with you before?” I fail at trying not to sound extremely surprised.

“No.” She obviously caught it. “But there was this one time…” She starts crying. I can’t stand it.

“Keep talking to me.”
Not that I have the slightest idea what the fuck to say to you
,
but that’s what people say in situations like this
. I think. And I want to know. I always want to know everything that’s going on inside her head.

“This was before I knew about all of this. So we went down to Georgia. That’s where I’m from.” I nod. Sweet tea. I’ll make her some tonight if I get a chance so it’s cold in the morning. “
Luke hates to visit my white trash family, as he calls it.” What a dick. “But my Memaw was sick so we went.”

“Wait a second. What the
hell is a Memaw?”

She laughs. I crave that sound. “My grandmother.”

“Oh. That’s cute.”

“So my mother is married to this total asshole, he treats her like shit. I can’t stand it.”

“I know the feeling.”

“He was really drunk, totally belligerent as always. Calling her a whore, telling her she was worthless. It was so embarrassing for me, I can only imagine what it was like for her. And then, when we got back to the hotel…” She starts sobbing again. I know where this is going.

“It’s okay.” Stop yourself from touching her. Now.

“I was so upset, I couldn’t stop crying. But
Luke…” Fuck, maybe this is a bad idea. She’s going to lose it.

“I know. He didn’t care. It turned him on, didn’t it?”

“Yeah. And he wouldn’t stop it, so I just… gave in. Again. Like I always do,” she weeps. I think I might puke. Punching a wall isn’t an option. “Why is he like this?”

I’m getting too angry, I need to watch it. Fuck. “I don’t understand it either.”

“And then that time with his friend,” she cries. “He said some things…” Holy shit. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to listen to this without losing it myself. “Luke just told me to hold still. I safeworded twice, but he covered my mouth and let him finish. It took a while.” Yeah, I’m definitely going to kill him. “Afterwards he was so angry that I embarrassed him.”

I have to stand up, turn away from her. Every sob feels like it’s stabbing me in the chest. My head is going to explode. Fucking breathe. In, then out. Calm the hell down. This isn’t that much of a surprise.

“Isaac,” she whispers. It calms me. “I really want to see those papers.”

“Okay.”

Without turning to see her, I bolt out of the room. This is a fucking horrible idea, but now I have to show her even though the only reason I agreed was so I could get some air. I’m in my room, shaking, needing to get this out somehow. I can’t take anything. I’ve overdone it tonight as it is, and I need to be on Earth if she freaks again. So I grab a pillow and howl into it until my voice dies. She probably heard that, but she’ll act like she didn’t, the way she usually does when she hears me slam shit around, and I’ll be grateful like I always am.

I barely remember what is on these sheets of paper. I basically decided to ignore them that first night and haven’t given them a second thought since. But she isn’t going to like it, that’s for fucking sure. I guess she deserves to know. It’s her decision.

As expected, she acts like nothing is different. I hand her the packet, but I can’t let go for a few seconds when she takes it. It’s going to hurt her, yeah, but what I’m really scared of is that she’ll think differently of me if she reads some of the things that I normally do. She’ll see what a fucking piece of shit I am. But I guess she deserves to know that too.

Reluctantly, I let it go, looking into her eyes deeply in case it’s the last time I see them without hatred. Reeling at the thought, I sit on the end of the bed far away from her to watch her reaction. Her eyes widen as she flips past the first few pages. There was some redeeming stuff on there, I think, but it didn’t seem to faze her.

“You will not address her by her name. She will only respond to ‘slave.’ Are you fucking kidding me? You never did that.”