Temper for You

by Genna Rulon

  “I’ve already told you what happened once I reached Jay—for the most part—so there you have it. Now you know everything,” she finished stoically, before adding, “I understand if you want to leave, Wes. You signed up for a good time, and my life is the antithesis of uncomplicated fun. ”

  Her arms tightened around my middle as she spoke, the physical communication contradicting her words. She wanted my acceptance and understanding even when she couldn’t give it to herself.

  “Oh, beautiful, you’ve always been complicated—it’s one of the things that attracted me to you,” I teased in an attempt to lighten her spirits and convey my acceptance. “I won’t lie to you, that was a whole lot of fucked up you just shared, but it’s fucked up that happened to you, not because of you.” I immediately raised my hand to halt her dissent. “As desperately as you want to tell me this is all your fault, every ounce of the guilt and shame you carry is complete bullshit. I know you believe it—because they did a damn good job conditioning you to feel accountable for their actions—but that doesn’t make it true.”

  Craning my neck awkwardly, I looked down at her until she met my eyes. Shit! She didn’t believe a word I' said—not that I was surprised. But she would…one day she would recognize that the sick bastards who abused her were responsible for the wrongs committed at To Ieró. I would make sure my beautiful girl finally saw how incredibly strong and brave she’d always been. There would be no doubt in her mind as to the phenomenal, tenderhearted, good person she truly was. If it took the rest of my days to achieve, so be it. At least I would die with the knowledge I had succeeded in restoring what was taken from an innocent. It would be the one exceptionally noble act of my life, perhaps redeeming my stained soul.

  “I see we have work to do,” I declared, mostly to myself. “There is no way I can undo eighteen years of habituation in one night, but I can start now and will keep working until we’ve unbound all the chains they’ve bound you with, however long it may take—weeks, months, maybe even years. You will be free, and not just physically…in here,” I said, gently tapping her temple with my finger.

  Opening her mouth to speak, I placed my hand across her lips, circumventing her attempt.

  “Nope, you don’t get to talk yet, the floor is still mine.”

  Shaking her head in what appeared to be mild exasperation, she pulled my hand away, yet remained silent. I counted it as a victory—the first of many. After all, I always won.

  “That was entirely too much information for me to process in such a short time, some stated outright and much implied. Off the cuff, I have a few questions and observations that warrant discussion, so how about you stay in my arms where you belong and be a cooperative witness?”

  I felt her nod against my chest as I organized the facts and my suppositions.

  “This is by no means the most important conclusion of what you just shared, but you, my beautiful girl, are not married.”

  She said nothing, so I continued, “You had no civil ceremony, no marriage license could have been obtained as you have no legitimate identity, and your ‘religious ceremony’ is irrelevant given your age at the time it occurred. Furthermore, you were under duress. Legally, you never consented to marry and ethically, the entire agreement was a travesty. One item off the ‘to-do’ list.”

  Her laughter shook my torso and raised my spirits. It had been far too long since I’d heard the music of her mirth. God, I’d missed her. The absence was like losing a limb…you would learn to live without it, but you would never be the same, the phantom pains haunting you until your dying day.

  In a short time, she had become a vital part of my life…the center of my universe. Realization hit like a Mack truck going one hundred miles per hour, downhill, fully loaded with gold bars—I loved her. I was in love with her. I’d never understood the distinction, yet it was now crystal clear and utterly necessary. In, because she was inside of me, now an integral part of myself that I couldn’t separate. Love, because while I cared for her as a friend and as a person, it was more. I loved every part of her; the easy and complex, the painful and the tender, the past and the present. I loved the parts of her she hated in herself because they made her who she is. I loved her entirely, accepting her burdens and sorrows as my own, along with her joys and triumphs. I loved her in a way that made me a better man—a man willing to sacrifice anything for his woman to ensure her happiness and safety. She tempered my selfishness until it was selflessness, distilled my bitterness into hopefulness, and exchanged my emptiness for completion.

  Well, that was unexpected—and might I add, poorly timed. The comprehension of my feelings for her and their depths was begging to be spoken, however such a revelation felt inappropriate given our conversation. I would have to hold my tongue—for the moment—until the right time presented itself.

  Pushing aside my life-altering insight proved to be a Herculean feat, but my girl didn’t need words of love at present—she needed a reality check.

  “Beautiful, you’ve had seven years since leaving those whackjobs to find your own identity, to learn about the great big world that existed beyond the isolated compound, to build a life and a future for yourself…and you’ve achieved all of that admirably. What you’ve accomplished with virtually no assistance or support verges on the miraculous. There aren’t words for how proud I am of you. Truly. But—”

  “Why does there have to be a ‘but’? I really liked the direction you were headed. Can’t we stay on the ‘oh, beautiful, you are a gift to all mankind’ train of thought?” she interrupted sassily.

  Thank God! My girl was fighting her way back from the darkness—even now. So damn strong!

  “But,” I continued, playfully nudging her, “in seven years, with all the knowledge and experience you’ve attained, it never occurred to you that the shame and guilt you are lugging around is just one more lie they fed you…one more trap you have to escape?”

  “Wes,” she began to say, but I interrupted her—again.

  “Sorry, I’m not going to listen to your, or rather their, regressive thinking. We are moving forward, over that mountain of remorse and self-loathing, even if I have to strap you to my back and carry you, kicking and screaming. Got it?” I didn’t bother to wait for a reply. “You feel guilty you ‘chose,’” I said with finger quotes and a heavy dose of sarcasm, “to become The Omega—bullshit! You said it yourself…you only had the illusion of choice and at ten years of age, you weren’t intellectually or emotionally equipped to stay home without a babysitter, let alone commit yourself to marriage.”

  Something clicked—I saw it in her eyes—a piece of their filth was chipped away. Impatient to capitalize on the fracture, I continued.

  “You feel guilty Jay was banished—complete crap! You admitted he had been preparing to leave for years, and I’ll bet if you asked him…no, scratch that—I’ll bet you have asked him and he said it was the best thing that could have ever happened to him. Did he tell you to stop apologizing and let it go?”

  She looked at me sheepishly before nodding to confirm my suspicions.

  “Exactly. The only other source of guilt I can fathom you claiming is that you’ve failed to out The Alpha to the community and stop his drug cartel.”

  “Don’t trivialize my responsibility to protect innocents,” she snapped, attempting to rise despite my vice grip.

  “Relax, baby. No need to turn into a hostile witness,” I joked, trying to smooth her ruffled feathers. “I’m not trivializing the seriousness of the situation, just trying to help you understand that you are assigning blame unjustly. Was there anything you could have said or done while still at…To Ieró,” I struggled to pronounce the unfamiliar name, “that would have convinced the followers that their leader was a homicidal sociopath?”

  “No,” she supplied simply.

  “And you called in an anonymous tip to the cops as soon as you were given an opportunity. You did everything in your power to help those left behind in the cult and prevent
The Alpha’s meth from being sold. Furthermore, I would be remiss in my defense if I didn’t point out that those you are concerned with protecting are hardly innocents. The people buying the meth are addicts who have made and continue to make the choice to use. I’m not saying they aren’t in need of help or worthy of compassion—even I’m not that big of an asshole—but if you cut off the supply from To Ieró, the dealers will buy from another supplier and the users will still end up using,” I outlined the harsh reality. “As for the other members of the cult…I understand most were probably born into the society and don’t know any other way of life, but—what type of person with any moral compass can stand and watch a five-year-old have her fingernails pried from her hand without intervening? There may be psychological explanations or sociological justifications for their inaction, but their obligation and responsibility to act on your behalf is far greater than any you have to them now. They remain at To Ieró by choice or ignorance; you were physically abused and tortured. Many words come to mind to describe ‘The Sacred,’ but innocent is not one of them.”

  My temper was high, anger coursing through my veins as I thought of what she’d been subjected to and the bystanders who had failed to intercede. In the heat of my rage, I wanted to burn the entire godforsaken compound to the ground with everyone over the age of eighteen locked inside.

  “Wes,” she whispered as she brought her hand to cup my cheek, “thank you—for so many reasons, thank you.”

  The kiss she bestowed was both reverent and loving in equal measure—it melted me. With restraint worthy of sainthood, I pulled back from the kiss before it could escalate, my body protesting raucously.

  “There’s one more thing I have to confess,” she said nervously.

  Dammit! Would the hits ever stop coming? I loved this girl—nothing she could say would change the depth of love I felt for her, but she was a magnet for trouble. It wasn’t her fault, I knew, yet loving her would always be wrought with challenges, courtesy of her propensity to attract messes.

  “Okay, I can do this,” she murmured, offering herself a pep talk. “Since we first met, I’ve held a lot of opinions and theories about the type of person you are—most of them not good. For that, I’m sincerely sorry, because most of my assumptions proved wrong. You are a good man, compassionate and honest…” Looking in my eyes and straight to my soul, she continued, “I love you, Westly Black. I didn’t want to, and didn’t even believe it possible—but it’s true…I’m utterly and irrefutably in love with you. It’s okay if you don—”

  “Thank God,” I thought aloud before pulling her closer, grazing my lips against hers delicately. Without retreating, I spoke the words that had been pleading for release, “I love you, my beautiful, strong, challenging girl.” Her mouth parted as she gasped in shock, causing me to chuckle. “If you’re surprised, imagine how I feel—it was a scandalous realization that I, a heartless asshole, was capable of love. Several months ago, I told you I only excelled at two things—sex and the law. I propose an amendment to my statement, your honor.”

  “Proceed, counselor,” she returned, playing along perfectly. God, I loved this girl.

  “I move to amend the record to add ‘loving you’ as my third area of expertise. Although I may not have mastered the subject as of yet, I fully intend to make doing so my life’s work.”

  “Motion approved…in fact, I insist on it.”

  "Jealousy is the fear of comparison." -Max Frisch

  Meg

  “Is Jay the other guy you were with?” Wes asked unexpectedly, shortly after our declarations of love. “You said you’ve only been with two.”

  Hesitating—to assess my options—I decided the blunt approach would serve me best.

  “Yes, he was,” I responded directly.

  An incomprehensible utterance preceded his reply, “More than once?”

  Well, that was specific!

  “Geeze, Wes! Would you like an account of his technique and which positions he attempted? You already know he didn’t get me there, so at least I can avoid that invasive question.”

  “Okay, that was uncharacteristically clumsy of me. I was endeavoring to find out if you were…intimate the other night, without being offensive. It appears I misspoke,” he admitted contritely. “The jealousy has been gnawing at me for weeks. We weren’t technically together at the time, so I have no reasonable complaint—still, I need to know so I can let it go.”

  Unbidden, the Disney song ‘Let It Go’ played in full stereo inside my head. Dammit, would I ever be able to hear that phrase without being held musical hostage? Regardless of how much I enjoyed the song when I first heard it, that tune was now the bane of my existence—an inescapable ditty that would torment me for hours.

  Wes cleared his throat, “Still waiting…please tell me that space-out wasn’t a result of you revisiting your time with Jay. I may be secure in my abilities, but knowing you’re thinking of him like that when I’m with you is a mindfuck I can’t handle.”

  Laughing at his idiotic assumption, I teased, “Green is not a good color on you, Black.”

  “Beautiful,” he warned.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah…keep your pants on—for now,” I winked saucily. Dang, it was fun messing with him. “I was actually contemplating the efficacy of epic movie songs for torture applications at Gitmo.”

  He looked at me with a ‘oh shit, she’s lost it’ expression that indicated I should have kept that particular musing to myself. Ooops!

  “No, darling, I didn’t sleep with Jay the other night. I did, however, coat him in a layer of snot and tears that likely forced him to chuck his t-shirt,” I said, unable to mask my amusement.

  Wes nodded, appearing slightly mollified, “Do you love him?”

  “Yes,” I answered honestly, his look of distress spurring me to clarify ASAP, “but not the way I love you. I love Jay the same way I love Griffin or Hunter…like a brother. You have to understand, he was the first person to show me any kindness. The risks he took to humanize me and later provide a safe place for me to find my bearings…he knew the dangers, Wes, but he stuck his neck out to help someone he barely knew. He’ll always have a place in my heart for what he’s done, but that place is small compared to the vast territory you’ve claimed.”

  “So you love him like a brother, but you slept with him?” he said, his tone accusatory and riddled with doubt.

  “Hey, Mr. Hypocrites-‘R’-Us, are you serious? Did you love the bevy of barflies you screwed? I understand you’re jealous—it was almost cute until you started being an asshole,” I snapped, annoyed by his suspicion, yet a part of me understanding his position. There was a distinct difference between banging a random stranger and sleeping with someone you had emotional ties to—not that I would admit it when he was being a prick. “I’m going to explain—although you don’t deserve it—and then you are going to move on and never bring it up again. Got it?”

  His only response was a jerky nod. Evidently, someone’s head was still crammed up his super-fine ass.

  “Jay didn’t want me to be alone so soon after escaping. He wanted me to remain in North Carolina with him, but fear for his safety prevented me from staying. When I refused, he offered to come with me. I wouldn’t let him abandon the life he’d built for me, so again I declined. The night before I left, he played the only card he had left—seduction. I knew what he was doing, but I was also curious about what sex was like outside of the microcosm of To Ieró and The Alpha. Deep down, I believe Jay knew sleeping together wouldn’t change anything, yet his need to protect me compelled him to try every tool at his disposal.”

  Wes’ humorless bark of laughter interrupted my story, causing me to raise an eyebrow in question.

  “Don’t be naïve, beautiful—he wanted you…still does. He may have had good intentions to justify his actions, but the bottom line is he wanted in your pants and grasped at any excuse possible to grant himself permission. You underestimate how captivating you are.”

  �
��Whatever! We slept together, but there was no fire and I couldn’t…you know. Jay’s no fool—when we finished, he knew the connection wasn’t there and never would be. After explaining—yes, he had to enlighten me since I didn’t know anything—what sex was supposed to be like, he took the time to reassure me that I would find the right man one day who would provide a safe place to explore sex and find the satisfaction I was missing,” I paused, blushing at the memory. “Are you hearing me? Poor Jay, who despite his best efforts was unable to get me off, had the birds-and-the-bees talk with me! He took the time to comfort me and answer my questions, reassuring me that there was more to sex than what I’d experienced. You want to know why Jay will always be special to me? In a moment when most guys’ egos would have blamed me for the crappy sex, Jay focused on my needs. Then, he honored my wishes and let me go the next day without making the situation awkward and with the assurance he would always be a friend I could turn to.”

  Releasing an exasperated breath, I continued, “I’m not in love with Jay, and I never have been. Frankly, I don’t think he’s ever been in love with me either. He wanted to save me—and yes, he was attracted to me, I’m not an idiot—but he knew the spark was missing.”

  Wes was quiet for an exceptionally long minute before his laughter filled the room, continuing until he was forced to wipe moisture from his eyes.

  “Are you seriously telling me that Jay had to have the sex talk with you…after he failed to score the touchdown. Damn, this is good stuff—might even make the top ten list of emasculating moments.”