by NB Baker
I’m not sure how to read the look on his face. It’s an instant combination of rage and concern. He doesn’t take his eyes off me as he heads back toward the front door. I’m so relieved that I’m not here alone just in case dad does come home. Then it hits me like a fucking brick to the forehead. I never thought about what I would tell Justin. He doesn’t know anything about my past. I hate lying to him, but I just don’t know what else to do at this point and time. I need some time to get this all figured out. What person in their right mind would want to deal with all this baggage? Before I can even get across the room, I hear his footsteps booming up the stairs. I swear it sounds like he is taking them four at a time. He starts shaking the door hard enough to make everything the entire room move.
“Sarah, let me in!” There’s panic laced in his voice.
Loud bangs on the door make me jump. “Sarah, God damn it. Open this mother fucking door,” he roars.
My hands are shaking so bad it’s hard to get them to do what I want. “I’m trying! Just hold on a second,” I whine.
I can’t believe that he made it into the house and up the stairs before I could even get across the room. I finally get the chair moved from under the door handle. I barely get the lock completely slid over before Justin is pushing open the door.
He steps into the room and wraps his arms around me. The serenity I feel being surrounded by him can be compared to no other. It seems that no matter what kind of whirlwind of devastation there is going on around, me when he’s near, the feeling that everything is going to be alright is stronger than the insanity. For a guy of his stature, he holds me ever so gently, caressing my hair in slow, comforting strokes. He leans back and puts his hand under my chin lifting my face.
There’s torment and anger in his dark eyes, but his voice is calm and soothing. “What the fuck happened, Sarah? Are you okay? Who did this to you?”
Trying my damnedest not to start crying, I say, “Yeah, I’m okay. Especially now that you’re here.”
Taking my hand, he leads me over to the bed, gently pulling me into his lap. “Please, tell me, what happened? But first, we need to call the police and get you to a hospital.”
“Justin, no, I don’t want that. Please, just no.”
Laying my head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heart beating is comforting and therapeutic. I want to stay in his arms, but I know that Leila and Oscar are on their way. Not to mention the possibility of dad showing up. I need to get the fuck out of here. Leila’s no fool. I’m sure there’s no question in her mind as to who the culprit is of my panicked phone call.
“Justin, I’m alright. Really I am. I just…”
I pause. The guilt of lying to him weighs heavy on my heart. Maybe in time, I can offer the truth, but right now it might cause a reaction from him that’s more than I can handle. I merely want to keep this entire situation my own private, dirty little secret. The emotional scars are mine to bare, or better yet bury. I would love to lay low until the visible scars have healed, I know it’s too late for any of that. The last thing I need is to be reminded of what a worthless piece of shit my own father thinks I am.
“Justin. If you don’t mind, I don’t want to talk about it right now. I need to get dressed, pack a bag and get the hell out of here.”
The blood drains from his face. “What? Why? What do you mean get out of here? Where are you going?”
Carefully, I lean up and give him a kiss on the lips. “What I mean is, I just need to leave this house. Leila said that I could stay in the loft at Delish for as long as I want.” Even saying it aloud now makes me feel sick to my stomach. Am I leaving? Am I really going to leave them behind?
I do my best to stand up from his lap, and whimper from the pain moving has caused. “Sarah, we’re going to get you to the hospital. You need to be checked out by a doctor,” he insists.
My voice comes across harsher than I mean it to. “No. I’m not!” Taking a deep breath, I tell him, “I’m fine, just let me get my stuff ready. Leila’s going to be here any minute, and I don’t want to make her wait.”
“Oh, hell no!” He jumps to his feet. “Look, I like Leila and all, but you’re my girl. I’m taking care of you.” As soon as the words leave his lips, he acts uncertain, that maybe he crossed a line he shouldn’t have. Hesitating for a moment before continuing, he runs a hand over the back of his neck. “I mean, if that’s alright with you. I want you to stay with me. Even if you just stay long enough to get back on your feet. I have to know that you’re being taken care of. That you’re alright.” He rubs both his hands through his hair. “My place is nothing special, but you’ll be safe there. I promise that. Nothing, and I mean nothing will ever hurt you again. Not as long as there’s a breath left in me.”
“Justin, I don’t know.” I shake my head and the tears begin to flow again. “Right now, all I want to do is get my shit and get the fuck out of here. Please,” I beg him.
Wiping my tears away, he promises, “Absolutely.” He starts looking around the room. “Okay, tell me what all you need.”
I slowly attempt to make my way to the closet, when he steps in front of me and starts shaking his head no. He carefully guides me back to the bed.
“What?” I’m not sure what exactly he’s getting at.
“You need to sit your beautiful little ass down and tell me what needs to be packed. Do you have a suitcase, or bag, or something?” He doesn’t give me any time at all to answer his question. “Oh hell, fuck that. Where’s your trash bags? I can’t help but laugh a little at him even though it hurts like hell. He looks at me with a surprised expression on his face. “What are you laughing about?”
“You! Seriously, a trash bag? There’s a suitcase in the closet.”
My giggling turns into uncontrollable laughter that takes over me. It hurts so fucking bad and yet I can’t stop. I think it’s one of those situations where life is just so fucking demented that even the smallest thing that isn’t even that funny, you find hilarious. It’s your brain shifting into self-preservation mode. Trying to save you from falling into a black hole of despair.
Finally, getting control of myself, I answer him. “Clothes, anything that’s in the dresser just throw it in. And, I kind of need something to wear right now.”
Looking down at the flimsy towel that I’m still wearing, I ask him, “Can you toss me some sweats and a T-shirt please?
He brings over my favorite pair of sweats and an old shirt. “Are you going to go commando?”
“What?”
He repeats himself. “Are you going commando? You know, no underwear and I guess no bra.”
I think he’s joking, but when I look at his face, I can see that he’s not. “Umm, no. Top drawer, left side.”
Setting my clothes next to me, he bends down and slips my feet into my panties and pulls them up to my knees. He grabs the bra and starts to pull the towel away. I put my hand on his, and there’s that ‘zing’ shooting through my body. Looking up into his striking eyes, I know he feels it too. I reach up and place my hand on his steel like jaw running my thumbs across his lips. He leans his head into my hand and then turns and places a kiss in my palm.
His shoulders sag. “Oh, Kitten.”
“I know.”
There’s no possible way that he would ever do anything physical with me right now. Not like I could, but the rejection still stings. I want to be close to him. I want that feeling that everything’s going to be fine. The second he sees my ribs he refuses to put my bra on me. He’s so tender and careful not to touch my tortured body as he finishes dressing me. His movements are so swift and fluid, as if he’s handling a porcelain doll. He kisses my forehead and heads back to the dresser grabbing more clothes and putting them in the suitcase.
I want to hide the cluster fuck of everything that’s going on inside my head. I don’t think me checking out is an option, so sarcasm is the next best thing. “If it’s okay with you, Sir Troma, I would like to go gather my more personal item
s from the bathroom myself.”
He looks back at me over his shoulder. “Sir Troma? Where do you come up with this shit?”
Shrugging my shoulders, I reply, “I don’t know. I guess some of us are just gifted and being a smartass comes naturally.”
He turns back around. “Sir Troma. I like it. I could get used to that.”
Justin turns around slowly and holds up a matching red lace bra and panties. “Oh, these are so coming with us.”
The look on his face makes me start to laugh and I let out a snort. When I raise my hand to cover my mouth and nose so that embarrassment doesn’t happen again. I cry out when I accidentally hit my swollen, bruised eye and feel the warmth start to trail down my cheek. Justin is over to me in an instant. He’s down on his knees sitting in front of me. Taking the towel, he warily presses it against my face. This time the look in his eyes is that of pain and torment.
“Sarah, I don’t know what happened, I understand that you don’t want to talk about it right now…” He takes a deep breath before he continues. “I’m so fucking sorry this happened. I should’ve been there. I should’ve been there and protected you. I swear that if I find out who did this to you, I will fucking end them.”
Taking his face in my hands, I tell him, “Justin, don’t. Two wrongs don’t make a right. There’s no way you could have known this was going to happen. It’s okay, you’re here now, and that’s all that matters to me.”
I feel him trembling against my legs. “Can I ask you one thing and you’ll answer it honestly, even if you don’t want to.”
My throat starts to tighten with fear. This could be dangerous. I take my hands down from his face; I start picking at some dried blood that had dripped from my eye onto my comforter.
“Sarah, please. I need to know the answer to this.” The tone of voice that he’s using makes it seem like a desperate plea.
I know that he is going to ask me if it were Dad that did this to me. Against my better judgment, I answer him, “Yes.”
He turns my face until our eyes meet. “Sarah, did anything else happen last night?”
“What do you mean anything else?” I have no idea what he is asking.
“You know something that might not be so visible to the outside world?”
I’m still beyond lost as to what he’s asking me. I know he sees the confusion on my face.
“Christ, Sarah, were you raped?”
The incident from my past flashes through my mind. The sounds smell even the tastes from that wretched night floods through me.
“My God. No! He would never do that to me. Fuck, Justin. What would even make you ask that?”
Shit, the second I see the look on Justin’s face I realize what I said. And by the raging anger that’s on his face so does he.
Justin goes into a fit of rage. “What! You know who did this to you? Who the fuck was it?”
When I don’t answer him, he bellows. “Answer me, Sarah,” he growls. His fists are clenched so tight that his knuckles are stone white. “I’m going to give whoever that mother fucker is exactly what he deserves!”
Leila and Oscar come running up the stairs, calling my name, pulling Justin out of his fit. Leila rushes to my side. “Jesus fucking Christ, Sarah. Forget your shit. You’re going straight to the hospital,” she cries.
Fuck, here we go again. “No, Leila I’m not. Please, just help Justin get the rest of my stuff, so we all can get out of here.”
“No, Sarah. You need to go to the fucking hospital.”
I lose my temper and cut her off before she says another word. “Look, I fucking love you guys for being so concerned about me, but enough. I know what I’m doing. We’ve fucked around long enough. Let’s just go.”
Oscar sits down on the bed next to me and holds my hand. “It’ll be okay kiddo. You just stay calm and don’t worry about anything right now. We’ll make sure you get out of here.”
Justin finishes throwing in anything else he can find in the suitcase. Since I never got to it, I ask Leila to gather my stuff from the bathroom. Oscar takes the suitcase from Justin. “You help Sarah down the stairs and Leila, and I will take care of these. That’s it, people. Let’s roll.”
Outside, I pull Leila aside and tell her that Justin’s invited me to stay with him. She’s skeptical but understands that it’d be better that I’m not by myself.
She lowers her voice. “I know who did this to you. There’s no hiding this. Sarah, you know that you can press charges and put his ass in jail. Let him be turned into someone’s bitch and see how it feels. Fucking bastard!”
“Leila, I know I could. But honestly, I just want to heal up and put this all behind me. I want to walk away, and I don’t want ever to look back. I want to forget this happened.”
“It’s your call sweetie, but remember that if you bury things they have a tendency to fester into something ugly and destructive. You do what you need to do, but always remember that you have friends that love you. We all are here for you if you need anything.”
I give her the best hug I can. “I love you, lady. Thank you so much. You know, for everything. You are truly amazing. Hey, can I ask you to do me one more favor?”
“Absolutely, anything, name it.”
“Will you call Amie and let her know that I’m okay? She stopped by this morning, but I didn’t answer the door. Not that I could have, but I feel really bad hiding from her. I look down at the ground as I feel those oh so familiar tears coming back. “I thought that I could keep this a secret, but I think that ship has sailed. Let her know that I’ll give her a call.”
“Sure thing. You're sure you’re all good? I mean, going to Justin’s? You don’t really know him all that well.” She lifts her eyebrow and smiles. “Do you?”
“Yeah, it’s precisely the place I need to be right now. No, I don’t know him that well. Leila, can we talk about this later? I want to get out of here.”
Justin lifts me gently and sets me in the passenger side of his truck. He carefully places the seatbelt across and snaps it. He looks me in the eyes, running his hand softly down the side of my face. “You’re going to be alright, Kitten. I promise.”
Chapter Five
The further away from the house we get, the better I feel. Justin drives carefully trying to miss any bumps in the road. I lean my head back against the seat and watch him. He continuously looks over at me and doesn’t say anything, simply smiling. I can’t help but wonder how this remarkable person found his way into my life. I haven’t done anything amazing in this world. In fact, I’ve probably caused more damage than anything else. Everything I touch turns to shit. Yet, here he is, sitting right next to me, promising me that everything is going to be alright. That I’ll be alright. Before my eyes close, the last thing I see is this beautiful guardian angel next to me.
The bright, beautiful sun is warm against my face as the breeze blows through my hair. I look down, and I’m wearing the most beautiful yet simple white sun dress. It’s made from the softest cotton material with a lace overlay. Entwined throughout the lace are the most elegant pink rose buds. I’m standing in an endless field filled with wildflowers in a rainbow of colors, hundreds of butterflies dancing across the tops. In the middle of the field stands a single tree. The sun bounces off it leaves like it’s been dusted with something magical. It stands so tall and proud in all its glory. It has roots that are solid and would hold onto the earth that no matter what happened around it, it would always be there. It’s right where it belongs.
It calls to me as if it wants to share its strength with me. The dirt under my feet is soft and warm as I make my way down to it. The flowers seem to part as I walk, giving me a path to follow.
A masculine figure steps out from behind the tree. He doesn’t advance toward, me only reaches his arms out to me. The sun moves inhibiting my ability to see who it is. Raising my hand to block its bright rays. Finally, I can see the stance of the figure there is no question who it is. It’s Justin.
He stands tall and strong just like the tree. With him, I would be able to plant roots and withstand anything the universe chose to hurl at me. I would be triumphant and strong just like Justin and the tree. I would be right where I belonged.
I love the image of that kind of me. I want nothing more than to be that person. I start running toward him. The closer I get, I see his solid form and that beautiful smile on his face. There’s a look in his eyes that there is nothing else in the world that he wants more than me. He stretches his arms out, catching me as I leap into them. Clutching me tightly, he swings me around in circles. My long dress swirls around us, similar to the butterfly’s sensual dance with the flowers.
Setting me gently to my feet, he slides the strap of my dress off my shoulder. He starts kissing and softly bites his way across my collar bone and up my neck. Pulling my ear lobe between his teeth, he whispers, “I need you, Sarah. I need to feel you, taste you. I want to ravish you. I want you to be mine and only mine.”
His touch makes my entire body shiver and yearn for more. He slides the other strap of my dress slowly from my shoulder, causing my dress to flow down to the ground. He lowers his hooded, smoldering gaze from my eyes down to my naked body. My nipples are hard and stretching out to him, begging for his touch. He runs his hand up the back of my neck, grabbing a handful of hair. He pulls, causing my head to tilt back, arching my aching body toward him. The throbbing between my legs longs for him and needs to be satisfied.
He lowers his head, taking one of my taught nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking. His tongue dips into the valley between my breasts and begins to work his way lower down my body. He cups each breast in his hands pulling on each nipple. I let out a whimper, my heart races and my legs begin to shake in anticipation.