The Dark Light of Day (18 page)

“This is what I do, Bee.”

“Killing Owen isn’t like whatever it is you do at your...job.” I
didn’t know what else to call it.

“No, you’re right. It isn’t. It’s more important. Because it’s about you.”

He still wasn’t getting it. “Listen asshole! I don’t want you to go because I don’t want to lose you!”

It was true. I wanted to care about what happened to Owen, but
the honest truth was that as little time as we’d spent together, I’d already gotten used to life with Jake in it. I couldn’t afford to lose
him. Not now. “Owen turns up dead on the very night that you knocked
him out in front of a ton of people, and everyone will know it was you.”

I wasn’t sure he was listening, until he repeated my words. “You don’t want to lose me.” He softened his stance over me, his hands coming down to rest on my shoulders.

“No,” I sighed. “I don’t.”

“Bee...” He squinted his eyes together and pressed his fingers on the bridge of his nose. “Did he rape you?” His breath was short and shallow.

“No.”

“How do I know you’re not just saying that so I don’t go after him?”

“Did you see his hand?”

“Yeah, it’s in a sling.”

“I did that. I slammed his hand in his own door when I ran out.” I sounded proud of myself.

I
was
proud of myself.

“
You
did that to him?” Jake sounded impressed.

“Yes,” I confirmed. “Owen didn’t rape me. He just got touchy-feely while I was sleeping. I put a quick end to it, though.”

“Baby, I hate that he touched you, that he thought his privileged ass was good enough to get to lay hands on you.” He paused and rubbed his knuckles down the side of my face. “I don’t want anyone to touch you but me.” Jake smelled like the beach and leather. His breath was cool as it came in heavy quick bursts. “I’m not good enough to touch you either, but that’s not enough to make me stop.”

My own breathing quickened.

“Just you, Jake.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then? That night?”

“What was I supposed to tell you? I was embarrassed, I was
tired. I didn’t know who to trust or what to do.” I held his gaze.

Jake pulled me from the door and sat me on the couch. He laid his gun on the coffee table, making sure to keep it pointed away from us. “I didn’t just find you by accident that night.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was looking for you. I just needed to see you. I didn’t like the
feeling I got when I saw you with Owen. I barely knew you, but I
had this overwhelming feeling that I wanted to help you. I wanted you to need me.” He shifted me to face him, our chests pressed up against
one another. “Originally I was just going to make sure you were
safe—even if it was with Owen. Then, I saw you walking down that road and I was just so happy to see you. When I saw the bruise on your jaw, I told myself it was from an accident. I wanted to concentrate on
you and not killing the person who hurt you.” He sighed deeply.
“I’m so glad he didn’t.”

“No, he didn’t, but I feel kind of guilty, anyway.”

“Why would you feel guilty? He was molesting you as you were passed the fuck out.”

“Because I liked it,” I whispered. “While I was dreaming, before I realized it was him touching me.”

Jake’s jaw clenched, then relaxed. I could tell he thought hard
about
what to say next. “It’s okay to like being touched.” He intertwined
his fingers with mine.

“Not for me it isn’t. I mean, I liked how I felt when I woke up,
but mostly because at the end of my dream I saw your face and…” I
hesitated before telling him the rest. “…I imagined it was you
making me feel that way.”

Jake looked puzzled. “You were imagining it was me?”

I wanted to lay it all out for him. I was tired of tiptoeing around my physical feelings for him. “Jake, the
only
person I’ve ever been
physically attracted to, the only person I’ve ever wanted to ever
touch me at all, and especially the only person I’ve ever wanted more from is you.”

Jake still didn’t know everything about me. I wanted to tell him all of it and just rip it off like a bandage, but
wanting
to and
being able
to were so far apart. I wanted him to help me heal, and for him to heal with me.

I wanted to take on his pain because he’d taken mine so
completely.

I had let him into my life, into my secrets and my wounds, but the thought of letting him into my body still panicked me. I wanted him, so very much. I wanted his mouth on me and his hands on my body, and I wanted to feel what it would be like to lay skin to skin with him. I wanted him more than I wanted to breathe.

It wasn’t a question of what I wanted. It was a question of what I was capable of.

As if he’d read my mind, Jake grabbed the back of my neck and
connected my lips to his. His lips were soft, but his kiss wasn’t. It
was demanding. He pressed harder, asking for more. His lips a perfect
mix of hard and soft. He opened to me, deepening the kiss, his
tongue finding its way into my mouth as I pushed my hands into his hair.

I wanted this with him. I wanted him to kiss away the past and fill me with only new and amazing memories. Our breathing became labored, and for just a moment, I thought I could really give myself to him in every way.

It was only when he reached around to my waist and pulled me
across his lap so my legs were straddling him that my chest
constricted.

I could feel the blood rushing from my face, my palms started to sweat. My breath was still ragged, but I couldn’t pull enough of it into my lungs. A type of dizziness started to take over.

I had to get out of there. So I did what was most familiar to me.

I ran.

In a flash, I had untangled my legs from around him and
hopped off his lap, running to the bedroom and slamming the door behind me. I dove into the bed and buried my face in the pillows, trying to catch my breath.

Jake didn’t come in after me. Instead, I heard the front door slam.

He left me.

Why can’t I just be normal?

Jake was capable of sharing with me his deepest, darkest shit, and I couldn’t just forget that I was a freak for a few minutes and let us enjoy one another. All I wanted was him, his touch, his kiss—his everything. But I had no clue how to get around the barriers I had created for myself.

I was so afraid that, just as it seemed like we’d been getting it all together, I had gone and torn it all apart.

THE CEILING FAN CLICKED AND ROCKED
as it spun around
and around. With each wobbly rotation, the chain danced and jingled. The pale light of the moon shone through the open window, casting the shadow of a palm tree onto one of the bare walls of Jake’s room. Its umbrella-like leaves looked like long teeth, rocking in unison with the fan.

The air was thick and hot around me. My long sleeved shirt
clung to my skin like a wet paper towel. Moisture beaded on my forehead. I felt almost feverish. Hot, cold, hot, cold. Trying to find some relief, I kicked off the sheets and pulled off my pajama pants, tossing them to the floor. I laid back down on top of the damp sheets in only my long sleeved shirt and panties. The air from the fan felt cool on my wet skin, licking the length of my bare legs. My nipples were already aching. Now, they became painfully hard.

It had been hours since Jake left.

It was going to be a long, long night.

Had my crazy pushed him away so soon? He was supposed to
be leaving in only a few hours. Maybe, he’d already left without
saying good-bye.

I had sprung from Jake’s lap like he’d repulsed me when the
truth was just the opposite. My body was more alert and alive with him then it had ever been. I could still feel it, too.

I was about to scratch my tingling skin right off my bones.

My fear, my body, and my aversion to sex needed to get together and figure their shit out.

For the first time in my life, my body craved touch. But, my past wouldn’t allow me to lower the wall between us—the wall that kept me at a safe distance from everyone, including the one who made me feel safest of all.

I tried to sleep, but I knew it would bring with it dreams of
Jake’s beautiful face, his calloused hands, his soft lips, the way the harsh
lines of his face softened when he laughed. I knew most of all I
would dream about his eyes. Those sapphire pools had woken me up and
reminded me of what it was like to
feel
—
just feel, something,
anything.
Everything. Jake had broken through all my numbness and
reminded me that I was okay, just as I was, and that I was human after all.

Damaged, but human. Just like him.

I realized then, even though I’d only known him a very short
time, I loved him. I loved all of him, the good and the bad, the light and the dark.

I promised myself that when—
if
—he came back, I would lay all my cards on the table. I would show him the Abby I’d been hiding. It was possible that he’d run. He might be disgusted with me by that point, but I was always going to be me, flaws and all. Holding onto my secrets for the sake of a few more days with someone I know I didn’t deserve anyway suddenly felt overwhelmingly selfish.

It was time.

Ready or not.

Definitely not...but whatever.

I was in love with the angel and in lust with the devil. If I were
honest with myself, I’d have to say that I was in love with the devil,
too.

The bedroom door slowly creaked open. Jake’s massive shadow
covered the shadowed teeth on the wall as he moved toward the
bed. He was wearing his black sweats and a black wife-beater. He paused and looked me over from head to toe before crawling onto the bed
beside me. He pulled me into his arms, drawing my back against his hard chest. He softly kissed the back of my head and sighed into my
hair.

I sighed, too. From relief. “You came back.”

He used his fingers to make circles along my naked thigh. I tensed, aware now that I was wearing only panties, and we were on
top of the
covers. I checked to make sure my shirt was in place. Thankfully, it was.

“I didn’t leave. I just took a walk to cool off.” His voice was tired and raw. “I promise I will always come back to you. Always.” He lifted my hair off my neck and kissed my bare shoulder. “It’s time for you to share your final secret with me, Abby.”

“Now?” I didn’t know if I could.

“Yes, now.” It was a demand, but a gentle one. “It’s the only
thing left between us. I’m not going to push you for anything but your words. The rest is up to you.”

Words.

They’d sat heavy on my tongue for almost nine years. They’d
never gone any further than that. It was time. I knew it was. I wanted to be unburdened of it now, and I let that feeling lead the way. It felt right to have Jake know all of me.

I was as unsure of his reaction as I was of myself.

Darkness quickly freed me of my fear.

The words surprised me when they started to flow out of my mouth and into the shadows. I closed my eyes as I told him about
the last night I’d spent in my mother’s house before I was put in
foster care. He listened as I told him how I’d eaten the neighbor’s dog’s food, though only when I’d been hungry enough not to think about feeling bad for stealing it from the dog. I even told him about running from
the constant open-door orgies and endless parade of vile “aunts”
and “uncles” who came and went with the same frequency as their highs and jail sentences.

I described in detail how I’d used the shard of mirror to stab the
man in the eye who’d come into my room. “I might have killed
him...
there was so much blood.” My eyes spilled with hot tears, but I wiped at them before they had a chance to fall. “I asked the social
worker who picked me up if he was dead. I don’t think they tell nine-year-olds if they’ve killed someone, though.”

Jake was quiet as he listened, but he continued to trace around
my upper thigh with his fingers, blazing a trail of fire on my skin
everywhere he touched. But, it wasn’t like the fire of a few weeks ago.

This fire was built out of want, not fear.

“That’s not all.” I braced myself as I began to tell him the rest.

Suddenly, I am nine again. I am naked and crouching in the field. The winds have died down, and now, it’s just the cold rain pummeling my skin.

I am free. I am free of the jail I never committed any crime to be in.

The home that held me prison would soon be a memory. I will work my way through starvation. I will never eat dog food again. I will find a family who will love me.

I am still worth loving.

A strong hand is on my arm, hoisting me up from the ground. A bitter voice in my ear: “Now you’re really going to find out what happens to bad girls, you little shit.”

With one hand wrapped in my hair, she is dragging me through the tall
grass, sand spurs clinging to my legs. “You think you can defy me? You
think you can say no? I own you and that scrawny, little body. If you don’t want to give it up to who I fucking tell you to give it up to, I’m going to make it so no one will ever want you again.”

Back in the house. Handcuffed to the radiator. Each burn of her
cigarette.
Each stab of her knife. Every time she slowly drags the rusted blade across my body, I jump back against the steaming radiator she’s purposely set on
high.