Wild Jaden

by Shayne Ford

  I pause, catching up my breath.

  “That was my first experience,” I say with a soft voice. “It was nothing but lust, confusion, and guilt. It was me regretting every moment of it. And also me feeling guilty for all the pleasure that I felt. That night changed my life. From that point on, I knew I couldn’t be romanced. I couldn’t taste something else or someone who would handle me differently. I couldn’t offer romance either. I couldn’t grasp how normal people fell in love. Up to this day, I still don’t. So, anyway... He fucked me that night. He didn’t kiss me, showed me tenderness, or try to talk me into it. He just fucked me until despite all the pain and guilt I came hard. And I did more than once. Despite hating him because he forced my hand.”

  I stop and shift my eyes to the window, his gaze trailing on my face.

  “I was a mess when I left his room. No words were spoken between us. No questions were asked. There was no understanding. And there I was. Confined to a jail of silence. What happened that night became my deepest secret. My family came back the next day. No one suspected anything. I did my best to act normally, and so did he. I avoided them as much as I could, and him in particular. The next few days I lived in hiding, blaming it on a sudden sickness. And then, as things started to settle down, I ran into him again. It was a Saturday evening, and most of my family was invited to a party. Isabel, my little sister, and I were the only ones at home. And staff members, of course. Isabel was sleeping in her room. He came home earlier than everybody else, planning on seeing me again. That second time, there was no introduction. He grabbed me, nudged me into the guest house, locked the door and fucked me. I could tell something had been stirred inside him. Something that couldn’t let him forget me. It fed his hunger for me. As soon as he locked that door and had me for himself, my clothes tore open under his fingers. He was far from gentle. And I didn’t protest. He also knew I liked it. There was no kiss, romance or sweet talking of any kind. He grabbed me by the hair, spun me against a wall, arched my body and rooted himself deep in me. The moment I started to whimper, he covered my mouth with his hand and increased the force and pace of his pounding. All I felt was the pleasure and unstoppable arousal. I started to hate myself. From that day on, I had to live with that big rift inside me. Suddenly, there were two people inside me. One blaming the other. One suffering because of the other. The evil side of me was bullying the good side of me into submission, and it was all because of that guilty pleasure I needed and couldn’t say no to. It took a long time until I garnered enough power to tell them both to shut up. To push the innocent version of me out of my sight, and to feed the beast in me without screwing anyone else’s life. That’s how I got broken. And that’s why I never dated anyone. Or tell anyone else my story. For the longest time, I had a hard time to accept who I was, and it became my most guarded secret. Despite all that, I went back to him, whenever I could. Or rather whenever it was possible. There were always people in the house–– staff, guests. Even so, we’d find the opportunity. Whether it was the study room or the backyard. Whether it was early in the morning when everybody was asleep, or late at night. Whether it was his room, or the farthest corner of the backyard, or the darkest cranny in the house. We’d find the place. And he’d always made himself available. We didn’t talk much about what had been going on between us, and whenever we found ourself at a family function, we’d keep the distance between us, offering no clues to the others. Outside his room, I was nothing but a shy, soft-spoken girl, delicate and feminine, but I knew it was a lie. My mom started to introduce me to the young men who had been purposely invited to our house to meet me. I was nineteen and the next in line to find a suitor. I refused to meet with them, and everybody blamed it on my shyness. It went on like that for a few more weeks. I started college, but I was still living at home. The sex got dirtier and dirtier, and my guilt grew exponentially. I realized there was no way to put an end to it other than to do something dramatic. And that’s exactly, what I did. In the end, I told my mom about him, me, and the women I had caught him with. She didn’t believe a thing. She told Evelyne, my older sister, and they both laughed at me. They thought it was an invention, a way to get back at him and screw up his life. Some sort of jealousy they couldn’t squarely explain. I couldn’t argue with them. When confronted, he negated everything, of course. They didn’t doubt him. Not even for a second. In all fairness, everything they saw from the exterior was supportive of his words and their beliefs, not my accusations. He and I rarely spoke to each other. They had no reason to believe me. So after I confessed, my family quickly found an explanation. They thought I was nothing but a sick liar craving some sort of twisted attention, dragging innocent people into my salacious stories. They eventually started to despise me, and that was the end of it. So, I left.”

  A long breath escapes my lips. Relief is all I feel.

  “That’s the truth,” I murmur.

  He tears his gaze away from me, slowly shaking his head.

  A bitter smile curves his lips.

  “Why couldn’t you tell this story from the beginning?”

  I shrug.

  “I didn’t think it would make a difference to you.”

  He huffs.

  “You didn’t think?” He shoots his hand up in the air, disappointment flashing in his gaze. “You wanted me to feel bad about you. And I did. I don’t regret it. But you also played my feelings, and used this story to nudge me in the right direction.”

  We lock eyes for a moment.

  “That’s not...” I say, quickly running out of words.

  It only takes him a couple of seconds to register my hesitation. He leaps out of the chair, and dashes out of the door.

  I push to my feet.

  “Jaden?”

  By the time I make it to the living room, I stare at an empty space.

  “I didn’t do it on purpose,” I shout, unsure if he’s still in the house or not.

  The sound of a slammed door bounces against the walls, soon after the noise of a car engine drifting in the front of the house.

  I slip into a pair of boots and storm out of the door.

  I jog down the stairs, barely avoiding a fall, and dart in front of the SUV. He slams the breaks, narrowly avoiding me. The headlights blind me.

  Snow comes down steadily, gusts of arctic wind slicing through my thin top. I curl my hands into fists and slam the hood with all my power.

  “Stop the fucking car!”

  The engine keeps running.

  Shielding my eyes against the lights, I shout.

  “I didn’t lie to you, Jaden... I couldn’t tell you because I couldn’t even admit it to myself... You’re the first and only person who knows the whole truth.”

  My voice starts breaking, tears falling on my cheeks.

  The engine turns off. The car door cracks open.

  “That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

  My hands slide onto the hood, as I bend, crushed, over the metal.

  “Yes, I wanted you to fall for me... I did. Because I fell for you, but I wouldn’t fool you into loving me,” I say, my voice broken with sobs.

  Slowly, I slide off the car, and onto the snow covered ground, my body numb with pain and deadly cold.

  13

  JADEN

  I wrap my arms around her and lift her up. Her hands fall lifeless on my chest. I rush up the stairs, kick the door open, and make a beeline for the bathroom.

  Icicles sparkle in her hair.

  “I’m so sorry,” she mumbles as I put her down.

  I peel my jacket off and start undressing her. Shivers run through her, her lips turning quickly blue.

  I peel the cold, wet top off, and unbuckle her belt. She curls her hands around my shoulders and leans on me as I pull off her jeans. Her skin is pale and blue, her nipples puckered, her skin covered with goosebumps. I nudge her to the tub and help her immerse in hot water.

  A hint of color kisses her face.

  “Is it better?”

  Her eyes
gain clarity, her face relaxing.

  “Yes, it is,” she says softly.

  “You’re like a kid,” I mutter.

  “And you’re good with kids...” she says, a sad smile rolling to her lips.

  “Not when they are grown up women.”

  She tips her chin down, hiding her eyes. I sit on the edge of the tub and gently tilt her face back up.

  Her eyes glisten with tears.

  “What was that?” I ask.

  She shrugs and briefly looks away.

  I wait.

  “I can’t change the past,” she says, her gaze slanting down.

  “Are you telling me this?”

  She raises her eyes.

  “I told you it wasn’t about the past. Of all people, do you think I’m the one to pass judgments?”

  Her shoulders tilt up.

  “I don’t know...” she mutters.

  “You know it’s not about that. I never said it was a good story. It clearly wasn’t. I just don’t want you to use it to play me. It does me more harm than good. I can’t stand lies or twisted truths. Not when it comes to people I care for. All right?”

  She blinks a couple of times, disconnected from my words, her eyes dull and empty.

  I slide my hand to her shoulder, and gently brush her skin.

  “I’ll get you something warm.”

  Half an hour later, wrapped in a soft robe, fingers curled around a cup of tea, she lies on the bed and observes me from above the rim.

  Sunk into a chair next to the fireplace, laptop propped on my lap, I pretend I don’t register her stare.

  A few moments of silence slip by.

  “You’re gonna leave me, aren’t you?”

  Her voice rings out calm, even and resolute as if she’s given some thought to her idea.

  I cut my eyes at her.

  “What makes you say that?” I ask, trying to remain composed while my pulse starts racing.

  “Because I learned you. You’re always one foot in and one foot out. Always ready to pick up and leave.”

  “It doesn’t have anything to do with you, Senna.”

  She places the cup on the nightstand.

  “I think it does. That’s why you overreacted when you heard the story.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  I shoot my hand up.

  “Okay... You’re free to believe whatever you want.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” she says.

  “I said... it doesn’t have anything to do––”

  “That’s a yes,” she says, cutting me off.

  I raise my eyes but stay quiet.

  A frown creases her brow.

  She crosses her arms over her chest and purses her lips.

  “Everything you said to me makes sense. I can’t dismiss any of that. But there is something else,” she says and pauses for a moment. “I wouldn’t give a shit if you left me because you didn’t like me, but I’d be mad as hell if you abandoned me because you did,” she says.

  I lower my eyes.

  “It wouldn’t make sense, would it?” I mutter, glancing at the screen.

  “In your world, it would.”

  Slowly, I close the laptop and set it on the side.

  “No one knows the future, Senna. You and me, the least of all people.”

  She shoots me a glare and leaps off the bed, within seconds darting across the room and vanishing out of the door.

  “Senna?”

  I push off the chair. A door slams somewhere in the background as I take a turn onto the corridor.

  “Senna!”

  My voice thunders across the hallway. I try a couple of doors. The rooms are empty. I finally reach the last one. The door is locked. I pound on it with my fist.

  “Open the fucking door.”

  “Go the fuck away!”

  “Why do you always have to change your mind?” I shout.

  A few moments of silence follow before the door swings open, hitting the wall with a bang. Her eyes could kill me. The robe is loose around her body, sliding open even more as she clasps her hands on her hips.

  My eyes dip only for a moment. Her sleepy tits peek through her robe, looking in a better mood than her.

  “How did I change my mind, Jaden? Huh? Explain to me. I’m dying to hear. How did I fucking change my mind?”

  I purse my lips, barely crushing a tell-all smile.

  She slides her hands higher on her hips, revealing more of her naked body. I lose my focus for a moment.

  “You wanted something from me...” I say, serious this time. “And you got it,” I mutter, my eyes locked with hers. “And now you want something else. Which doesn’t surprise me. It has happened before. Women acting bravely. Going in for sex. Five fucks later they want to plan a wedding.”

  Three things happen next. Almost simultaneously.

  Her eyes throw a big sword of anger through me as her arm swings in my direction––her hand missing me by a hair’s breath, and the door shuts in my face with a loud noise.

  As fast as her, I push the door open before she has the chance to lock it. She sprints away from me, takes a left turn, sneaks into the walk-in closet and tries to shove that door in my face too.

  I lunge at her and loop my arms around her waist, her fists flying to my chest. I grab her hair and lock her tighter. Her teeth sink into my shoulder. Peeling my arms away from her, I set her free, yet she has nowhere to go. My back guards the door.

  She takes a step back, breathing shallowly. Her hair is a complete mess, her eyes burning holes into my skin.

  “I’m not just any woman, Jaden. I’m not planning any wedding.”

  “Then why the hell do you act like one?”

  Her eyebrows pinch in a frown and then her lips purse and crease, trembling with fury. She shoots her eyes to the side, grabs the first box she can get her hands on and throws it at me.