I Surrender (14 page)

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Authors: Monica James

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Family Saga, #Sagas

BOOK: I Surrender
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Chapter 20:

Piece by Piece I’m Taking Back What’s Mine

O
n a cool Wednesday evening I am rugged up in Jasper’s bed. He has the night off for once and his roommate is out trying to score with some chick so Jasper asked me over to watch a movie. Usually he would hang at my place because his roommate is way too obnoxious for my liking.

Jasper’s house is a little two bedroom town house, about twenty minutes from V’s place, which is perfect. It is very outdated, built in the 70’s but it is a bachelor pad, and it suits the boys perfectly. The house is a mess but Jasper’s bedroom is neat for a boy, well apart from his desk. The little desk is situated in a corner with piles of books, scraps of paper and pens scattered everywhere. I have no idea how he finds anything in that chaos, but he says his ‘chaos’ has order.

There is a small bathroom adjoined to this bedroom which separates his roommates’ bedroom. He has a very cozy queen size bed, a guitar in the corner of the room and a TV on a nightstand. His CD’s are stacked in shelves along the walls and there are hundreds of them.

As I sit with my back against the headboard waiting for Jasper to return with snacks for our movie I spot a photograph, tucked away on his shelving. It looks as if it has slipped out of a CD case accidently. Curiosity gets the better of me and I silently get up to have a look. Stepping on tippy toes I can just reach it.

When I look at the photograph I know immediately this is Jaspers’ family. His mom and dad look young, Jasper is only about five or six and I would guess his brother is eleven or twelve. His mom stares with melancholy eyes, looking slightly over the camera man’s shoulder. I wonder what she is looking at. His dad looks like he has had a hard life and has a firm hand on each of his sons’ shoulders. Looking in on the White family, they look like any other family, but I know that’s not the case. Jaspers’ family is not something he will discuss with me and I know it’s because it’s something he doesn’t want to revisit.

“What are you doing?” Jasper asks as I turn to look at him over my shoulder with the most innocent look I can muster.

It’s now or never. “Tell me about them?” I ask showing him the photo in my hands.

“Where did you get that?” he asks stunned, like he had forgotten he owned the picture.

“I saw it tucked behind your CD’s, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have raided your stuff.” I apologize realizing what I did was quite disrespectful. He walks over to me, dumping our snacks onto his bed and removes the picture from my hands. He stares at the photograph for the longest time, his scruffy hair falling into his blue eyes. I can’t read the emotions behind his eyes, but I know he is thinking back to when the photo was snapped.

“This was taken at some shitty park my parents would take me and my brother Stephen to on a Sunday afternoon. The park was so derelict, filled with syringes and broken beer bottles. But we were kids and we loved it. It is the only happy family memory I can remember.”

“Why did you guys only get to go on a Sunday?” I question softly, not wanting to push him.

“That was the only day the bar my dad frequented was closed. He had no choice but to spend time with his family. Stephen and I would count how many sleeps until Sunday; it was the best day of the week for us. Mom and dad would act like parents, and Stephen could be a kid and not be forced to look after his bratty younger brother.”

“What were your parents doing during the week that forced Stephen to look after you?” I knew I was pushing Jasper, but this was the first time he was openly discussing his family with me.

“My mom was too busy popping prescription pills and dad was getting drunk, chasing tail. We were an inconvenience to them, and they never failed to mention this daily, especially to Stephen. Dad would come home in fits of anger, drunk as a skunk at night, and take that anger out on Stephen. When I got older me too, but Stephen would always provoke him while he was getting hit so when it was my turn, dad had run out of anger.”

It pains me to see him drop his guard about his family, but I persist gently. “Is that how you got this?” I reach over to rub my finger over his scar on his bottom lip. He kisses my finger and softly touches the back of my hand with his.

“Yes. I had enough of dad beating up Stephen so I tried to stop him, yanking on his arms, biting his legs, whatever I could do to make him stop. But that just wound him up further. He turned around and knocked me out cold. All I remember is waking up in bed with Stephen nursing my bottom lip. When dad punched me, the corner of the kitchen table broke my fall. The wood split my lip right open, I needed stitches but never went to the hospital.”

I cover my mouth horrified that someone could do that to their child. “How old were you?”

“Eight,” he replies quietly, fiddling with the corner of the photograph. My heart is aching for him. My heart is aching for the eight year old Jasper being treated like no eight year old should.

When I finally find my voice I ask, “You mentioned your dad died in a house, what about your mom? And Stephen? How could your mom just stand there and let your dad hit you boys.”

“My mom didn’t want to deal with her abusive husband. If she did, she knew she would be next in line for his punishing fists. Stephen left Chicago when he was eighteen and moved to Texas. I was twelve at the time and begged him to take me with him. He wanted to, but my parents needed a child to live with them to receive their child support payments. Dad threatened Stephen with the biggest beat down of his life if he took me, so he left and I was my parent’s emotional and physical punching bag for the next six years. I left as soon as I turned eighteen, followed a girl to sunny L.A. and haven’t looked back. Stephen is still in Texas, he’s married but we don’t see each other or speak. I think I remind him too much of a past he wants to escape. Mom has moved into a new house and remarried some loser. Now that she has a new house and husband she is trying to make up for being a shitty mother. I don’t talk to her often, and when I do it usually ends in a ‘fuck you’ and me feeling like I am twelve years old again.”

Now I know why Jasper never wanted to talk about his past. It is one I had a hard time listening to, I couldn’t imagine living it. No matter how overbearing my parents are, they never once lifted a finger on me. I had a happy, normal childhood. No wonder Jasper never wanted to get close to anyone, with an upbringing such as his, I’m surprised he isn’t an alcoholic, in prison or in a psych ward. There is one question I have been dying to ask him for a while.

“How did you and Indie get together? You are total opposites and I don’t understand how you could…”

“Could what? Be involved with her.” I only nod as I am too afraid I’ve overstepped some line.

“Indie, she saved me.” Now I’ve heard it all I sneer to myself. Jasper half smiles as he senses my disbelief.

“I know it’s hard to believe but she did. When I was a kid I was withdrawn and awkward. She was just the opposite. She was loud and she was liked by everyone. One day we were paired up in biology and she was nice to me. Genuinely nice. She was my only friend. I couldn’t believe someone, especially a girl as popular as Indie would care about a shy weird kid like me. As we grew up, things got more involved but it was for comfort, and curiosity. She was the first girl I kissed and the first girl I ever had sex with.”

I suddenly wish I kept my mouth shut.

“But she’s… not a good person.” That’s the nicest way I can phrase it, without blurting out what a huge bitch she is.

“She’s changed now. When we were kids, fake boobs and Botox weren’t important to her. I know what the real Indie is like and that’s why she’s still in my life. She gave me a chance when no one else did. It’s the least I can do for her now.”

I understand Jasper is holding onto the memory of a younger, kinder Indie, but it’s hard to believe she ever was a good person judging by the soulless individual she has become.

Silence passes between us and he is sadly looking at the picture of his family. I feel his grief and my hand covers his, wanting to comfort him. “It wasn’t your fault. Your mom and dad, they were horrible people who didn’t deserve such good kids. Considering your role models, I think you turned out extraordinary.”

“Really?” he asks taken aback.

“Yes really. You work at an animal shelter caring for animals that have been disregarded and forgotten but you give them a second chance. And not to mention you are a talented musician. Your words are real; because you have lived that life... You are an inspiration just by breathing.”

I bite my cheek from saying anymore as I think I have said too much. Jasper turns to me, his blue eyes so big and expressive I feel lost looking into them. He places the picture on his bed and slowly takes a hold of the back of my neck pulling me in for a kiss, and I am drowning in all things Jasper. I match his passion, kiss for kiss because I want him so badly it hurts.

He walks me backwards and my knees hit the end of the bed. He nudges me down onto my back, his arm settling under me, embracing my waist. I am on fire. Wherever he touches and kisses I am scorching.

His hand slides under my t-shirt brushing over my bra and I am internally fist pumping in excitement. This is uncharacteristic for Jasper, so when I feel his skin on mine I gasp in pleasure. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck entrapping him to my body. As he descends to my neck, kissing and biting softly I writhe underneath him, yearning for more.

He raises my t-shirt exposing my belly button as his lips travel down my body. Stopping at my uncovered tummy he looks up, his eyes requesting permission to explore further. I shyly nod and without delay he unbuttons my jeans, slowly pulling down the zipper. He hooks his fingers inside my jeans and slips them past my knees. I accommodate by lifting my hips and hey presto my jeans are thrown off the side of the bed.

I am grateful I have worn some appropriate black lacy underwear as this scenario would have been embarrassing otherwise. But there is nothing embarrassing about this moment with Jasper. The look he awards me with as he is gazing down at me while resting back on his heels, is one of worship and adoration. I feel like a goddess under that gaze.

“Tell me to stop if I’m going too far.” He swallows, the passion in his voice clear as day.

“Okay,” I whisper. He leans down, giving me one of his heart stopping kisses. I need to feel his warm skin so I urge his t-shirt off and am stunned by his beauty. I was right, he is all lean muscle. I examine his sharp collarbones, hard planes of his chest and my eyes feast on the slight snail trail that is sprinkled down his navel, leading down into his jeans. His abdominals are ripped and his V muscle is so defined I am freakin’ panting in need to run my tongue over it. My breath hitches in my throat and he smiles at me modestly.

I reach up with apprehensive fingers to touch him. I place my hand over his beating heart and feel it is racing a million miles an hour. Not being able to help myself, I lean up kissing his firm stomach and he groans, leaning his head back. He pushes me back down and within moments his bare chest is pressed to mine and I detonate in fervor. As Jasper’s kisses travel down my stomach and over my underwear his stubble tickling my most intimate area, I suddenly freeze as the realization of what we are about to do hits home and hard.

I haven’t been intimate with anyone since Harper and just the thought of Harper turns my mood sour. Way to go Ava, ruin your moment with Jasper by thinking about Harper. I hate that even after six months of being apart; he still has the ability to evoke this insecurity in me. What if I’m not good enough for Jasper? I have only ever been with Harper and I am sure Jasper has an endless list of sexual partners. What if this changes things between us for the worse, not better? I thought I was ready but obviously I was mistaken. I feel like I might throw up.

“Hey where did you go?” Jasper whispers, an intense look in his eyes. “Come back to me Ava.”

I look down at his face planted between my legs and I just can’t do this, not now. Harper has destroyed a moment of innocence between Jasper and I.

I cover my eyes embarrassed and angry at myself. “I’m sorry I can’t do this now, I’m sorry.” I scramble up the bed with my knees pressed to my chest.

“It’s okay, don’t apologize.” I feel so stupid and I press my face into my knees to hide my approaching tears. I have wanted this to happen for months and now I have ruined it.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks concerned, when I remain silent.

“No God no it’s me, or Harper.” Jasper cocks a confused eyebrow.

I realize that’s not the best thing to say. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Well how did you mean it?” He is staring at me, waiting for an explanation. This is going to embarrass me further but I owe him this.

“I haven’t been intimate with anyone since Harper and thinking about him just ruined my mood. I’m sorry.” I am so mad at myself and berate myself further when I see that hard, unreadable look on Jasper’s face.

He looks hurt and I mentally kick my own butt for being such an idiot. “Have I hurt your feelings?”

Jasper shakes his head and sits up, covering his glorious body with his t-shirt. I can see him clenching his jaw and I know I have. I place my hand on his shoulder, trying to stop him from leaping off the bed.

“No, tell me Jasper.” I wish I didn’t persist.

“Well it’s a blow to a guy’s ego if his girl is thinking about her ex while he’s trying to get into her pants. My ex was the furthest thing from my mind when I was in-between your legs.”

I cringe at the crudeness of his comment. I know he’s offended and his words are spoken out of spite, and I totally deserve it.

“It’s not like that Jasper. It came out wrong. I’m sorry, give me a minute and we can try again.” Seriously, my mouth is not attached to my brain right now.

Jasper jumps off the bed livid. Massaging his temples he states, “This isn’t a science project Ava, this was meant to feel natural and it was until your fucking ex somehow ended up in bed with us!”

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