by J. Daniels
I heard water running and nothing else.
There were rubber gloves and cleaner under the kitchen sink. I loaded up on supplies and dragged the trash can over to the couch. Then I cut the TV off, since it was still on, and knelt beside the vomit, pushing up my sleeves.
The cleanup wasn’t too bad. And the floor hadn’t stained, which I was happy about. I knew how hard Sean had worked on it after he’d pulled up the carpet, and I didn’t want him looking at that spot and reliving the memory of that nightmare.
I’d been prepared to rearrange furniture, though, if the floor had been damaged.
After I tied off the bag and carried the trash outside to the can, I washed up and returned to the bathroom.
The shower was still running.
“Sean?” I stepped up to the curtain and pulled it back slightly so I could peer inside. “You okay?”
He had his hands braced on the wall and was letting the water run over his head and down his strong back.
He didn’t have any ink there, and I could see every groove of muscle as he trembled. I fought the urge to climb inside the shower and hold him while he tried to wash.
“Do you need anything?” I asked.
“Towel,” he mumbled.
I turned and went to the small linen closet opposite the sink and frantically felt around for the softest cloth.
I’m not sure why I did that or why I thought it might help. I was running on this strange energy. I wasn’t typically an anxious person, but I felt like something was pushing me around and forcing me to move at a much faster pace.
“Here you go,” I said. I held the white cotton against my chest and shifted on my feet while Sean cut the water off and pulled back the curtain. I braced myself for his tears.
When he stepped out onto the mat, he kept his gaze on the tiled floor. I couldn’t tell if he was crying or not. His hair was dripping. Drops of water slid off his skin.
“Let’s go lie down,” I told him, stroking his back as he secured the towel around his waist.
“The floor?” he croaked.
“Everything’s cleaned up. The floor is fine. No damage.”
He turned his head and peered down at me then, but only briefly. Then his gaze returned to the tile.
I gave him a soft smile even though he couldn’t see it and took hold of his hand, knowing he was probably embarrassed about the cleanup. “It wasn’t a big deal, Sean. Not at all, okay? Come on.”
He let me lead him out of the bathroom.
We kept the overhead light off and turned on the small lamp. Sean pulled a pair of boxers out of his dresser and slipped them on, letting the towel drop to the floor. His movements were stiff.
I scooped up the damp towel, then helped him over to the bed. Once he was lying back, I turned to leave the room.
Sean shot up and caught my arm, halting me. “Stay,” he pleaded.
A piece of my heart broke off. God, he was terrified I was leaving.
“I’m staying,” I told him, smiling. “I just want to put this towel in the bathroom and make sure all the lights are off. I’ll be right back.”
Sean nodded rigidly, then released me and collapsed onto the bed. He was breathing fast through his nose.
I ran through the house. I made sure the door was locked and grabbed my phone off the end table. After shutting off all the lights, I returned to the bedroom.
Sean was on his side facing the wall. His head came up, and he peered back at me when I entered.
“Hey,” I whispered. “I’m just setting my alarm. I have a client coming at eight.”
I kept to myself how I thought the girls waking up to me being here might confuse them, and it was probably best I slip out before they woke, figuring we could save that conversation for another time.
We had enough to talk about.
After setting my phone down on the trunk, I climbed over Sean and sat on the bed, facing him. I touched his face, and his eyes slowly slipped opened.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly.
His breathing had slowed a little. He was no longer panting, but he didn’t look any better. Even in the dim light, I could see his fear. His sadness. His gaze was anxious. It wouldn’t settle on me; it darted from my face to different spots on the bed.
“Sean, what are your nightmares about? What happened to you?”
I wanted so badly to take away his pain, but I couldn’t unless he shared his past with me. I had to know all of it.
He gritted his teeth. He wouldn’t look at me.
“Let me in.” I stroked his cheek and shifted closer. “It’s okay, you can tell me anything. It won’t change us. I won’t leave.”
His gaze shot to mine, and his nostrils flared as he sucked in a breath.
“What did she do to you?”
Sean pinched his eyes shut, then shook his head with a short jerk. He wasn’t going to tell me.
“Baby, please, I want to help you,” I said, bending down and kissing his head. I rubbed his shoulder. “Please, tell me. I won’t leave. I promise, I won’t…”
“Not her,” he mumbled.
I leaned back a little to peer into his face. Not her? “What do you mean? Your nightmare wasn’t about her?” I asked.
I felt something move through his body where I was touching him. A wave of fear. It left his muscles rigid.
“Tell me,” I begged. I was crying now. I couldn’t help it. “Sean, please.”
“I just wanted somethin’ to eat,” he whispered, staring at me with wild panic in his eyes.
I nodded, encouraging him to keep going. Please keep going.
“I was so fuckin’ hungry. They had food and they wouldn’t give me any…I could smell it.”
“Who had food?”
“That fuckin’ cunt and the men she’d bring over. Whoever. It was someone different all the time.”
“Okay.” I brushed his hair back. “Okay, what happened? How old were you?”
“Don’t know…nine, I think. I waited ’til I couldn’t hear them, then I snuck out of my room. If they saw me, I’d get beat. She was passed out on the couch. I thought…I thought he was in the bedroom. I didn’t check. I should’ve checked! I knew better! I knew—”
“Shh,” I soothed and pressed kisses all over his face. God, what happened to him?
Sean began to cry. “I got to the kitchen, and he was at the fridge. I tried sneaking out but he saw me. I was scared. I didn’t want to get hit. My head was still hurtin’ so bad from when I got hit earlier, so when he told me to get over to him, I did. What the fuck you doin’? What the fuck you doin’! he screamed at me. I told him I was hungry. Then I watched him pull this bucket of chicken out of the fridge and set it on the counter. I thought he was gonna give it to me. I smiled. I remember fuckin’ smiling at him. Jesus.” Sean shook his head as his tears wet the pillowcase, then he looked at me. “I hadn’t eaten anything in days. And it smelled so good and I just…fuck, I had to. I had to do it, Shayla. I had to fuckin’ do it!”
“Do what, baby?”
“Touch him. I had to touch that motherfucker so I could get somethin’ to eat!”
The air drained out of my lungs. I trapped a whimper inside my mouth and grabbed at Sean, pulling his upper body into my lap as he began to sob and curse. He clung to me.
I willed my own tears to dry up. I had to stay strong for him. But God, I had never wanted to break down and scream so badly before in my life. How could this happen to him? How could no one protect this boy?
What the fuck was wrong with people?
“Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, you’re safe now,” I whispered, stroking his hair, his face.
His arms around me flexed and held tighter.
I kept rubbing his back. Kept kissing him. Kept telling him it would be okay. This went on for minutes, until Sean eventually fell asleep, and even then, I kept repeating the same thing over and over while I stared off into the bedroom.
Hours passed. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t
relax or lay back, and it didn’t matter anyway. I was no longer tired.
I thought about that woman. About Sean as a boy. So sad and scared. About all the pain he lived and was still living.
I had to do something. I had to help him.
When the alarm on my phone went off, I climbed over Sean’s legs and slid out of bed. His head was back on the pillow now.
I felt his hand on my hip as I turned off my alarm.
“Hey.” I smiled at his sleepy face, half covered by his hair. He was sprawled out on his stomach.
Sean slid his hand up to my arm and pulled me as he rolled, allowing me room to sit on the edge of the mattress.
“You sleep any?” he asked.
“A little.”
I hated lying, but I didn’t want Sean feeling any guilt or regretting sharing with me the thing I was betting he had never wanted to share. He’d warned me before about stuff happening to him we’d never talk about. And even though it killed him to say it and me to hear it, we had talked about it.
I didn’t want him ever feeling sorry for telling me.
“Are you hanging out with your girls today?” I asked, pushing his hair back and running my fingers through it, discovering how much he seemed to like me doing that last night.
His eyes closed briefly in bliss, then he nodded and opened them again. “Val’s picking them up later. Not sure how that’s gonna go. The girls said last night they were movin’ in.”
I laughed. “Well, it is pretty awesome here. Can’t say I blame them.” I bent down and kissed his mouth, feeling his goatee tickle and the fullness of his lips and wanting to stay there, kissing him, but there was something bothering me, and I couldn’t leave here until I got it off my chest.
I sat back and gently stroked his face. “Was it just the one time? With that man…did it happen again or with anyone else?”
My stomach tightened as I braced. God, what if it happened all the time?
Sean stared at me, released a tight breath, then shook his head.
Relief sagged my shoulders.
“Did she know what was going on? That woman—did she do anything?”
“Walked in on me jackin’ him. She laughed and walked out.”
My teeth clenched. My God, I was going to torture her like nobody’s business. I just had to find her.
“Hey.”
I blinked the bed into focus and looked down at Sean after he spoke.
He was studying me. “You’re thinkin’ somethin’. What is it?”
“Nothing,” I lied.
“What is it?” he pressed.
“I’m wondering if that horrible woman is still living here, and how difficult it would be for me to find her,” I admitted. “I’m hoping not too difficult, so I can get on with the torture sooner rather than later. I have a lot planned.”
Sean stared at me, his expression unreadable, then he sat up and moved beside me so we sat shoulder to shoulder. He grabbed my face. His hold was gentle.
“Leave it alone,” he said, and just the thought of letting that bitch get off, it made my blood boil.
“I can’t do that,” I told him. “She hurt you. And she did worse than that. She didn’t protect you at all, Sean. She doesn’t deserve to be breathing…”
“Leave it alone, Shayla,” he repeated, his voice firm and final. “You don’t need to be diggin’ on this. I ain’t worried about her.”
“I am. What if she finds you? What if she’s here? God, she could come into Whitecaps or try and see your girls. I won’t let her.”
“She ain’t gonna do shit.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“How? How do you know?”
He curtly shook his head.
“How, Sean?”
“Shayla,” he growled, bringing his face so close to mine our noses almost touched. His tone was severe. “Remember before when I said pick another topic?”
I blinked, asking in a quiet voice, “You aren’t going to tell me about this?”
“No.”
>“Never?”
“Never.”
I pulled out of his hold as this strange hurt filled me. “You told me all that stuff last night, and you won’t tell me this? Is it worse?”
Sean cursed, looking away, then he stood up and stalked out of the room with heavy steps. The bathroom door closed behind him.
I stared off into his bedroom.
I didn’t want to let this bother me, but God, it did. I didn’t want any secrets between us. Even ones too difficult to talk about. I wanted Sean open and honest with me.
How could we be together if he couldn’t be?
I pushed that worrying thought aside and decided I wouldn’t lessen what was shared and how difficult that must have been for Sean. He was trusting me with it. He’d told me so much already.
Don’t dig, Shayla. Do not dig.
I stood from the bed and searched my bag for something to write on. I found an old market receipt and dug around in a pocket for a pen. Finding one, I smoothed out the soft, crumbled paper on the edge of the trunk, then I flattened it on the top and wrote out my note.
Sean,
Thank you for letting me in. I’m not leaving. (I won’t) I’m just going to work.
xoxo,
Shayla
I left the note on the bed, then I slung my bag over my shoulder, tugged on my boots, and slipped out just as sweet little voices filled the hallway.
How I managed to get through four clients that day without dropping on the spot was a miracle.
By two o’clock, I was dead. But I knew taking a nap would only mess up my sleep that evening, so I was fully committed to powering through and staying up.
I was also extremely motivated.
I had work to do. Sean needed help. And I’d give up sleep for the rest of my life if it meant making sure he got it.
After cleaning up after my last client, I grabbed my laptop and plopped down on the couch with my second Red Bull of the day and some trail mix—the good kind with M&M’s. Not that shitty kind that only had dried fruit and unsalted peanuts. I was not a squirrel, and in my opinion, the only reason to purchase trail mix like that was for some sort of feeder out in your yard.
Red Bull cracked open and search engine ready, I got my snack on while looking up local therapists who specialized in childhood traumas.
I hadn’t asked Sean if he’d ever spoken to anyone before about what had happened to him, but I was guessing he hadn’t, considering how closed off he was about the topic. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to anyone, and if that was the case, I wouldn’t push it, but I needed him knowing there were people out there who could help him.
I spent the rest of the afternoon reading bios and client reviews. I looked up addresses and calculated the distance from Sean’s house. I Googled, eliminated, and narrowed down the choices. I was picky. I had to be. Nothing short of the best. Then I made my list of potentials and split them up by gender, in case Sean had a preference.
I was anxious to give it to him. I was prepared to drive over to his house and show him the second I was finished, but I didn’t need to.
Headed over. You home?
I smiled as I read Sean’s text and quit pulling on my boots.
Yep.
Be there in 20.
Can’t wait. xoxo
I sat on the arm of my couch and watched the door.
Even though I might’ve pulled an all-nighter, you couldn’t tell by looking at me, and not just because I was buzzing and wide-eyed from all the caffeine I’d consumed.
I’d showered when I got home this morning and curled my hair with a flat iron, so it looked beachy. I was wearing makeup—which I kept to a minimum except for my lipstick choice, going with a deep ruby shade that looked amazing against my pale complexion—and instead of bumming it in sweats or slipping right into my PJs, I was in black jeggings and my favorite oversize sweater that looked expensive but wasn’t, meaning it looked ni
ce and not frumpy like some oversize sweaters tended to look on me.
So, running on Red Bull and zero sleep, I felt pretty.
Nearly twenty minutes later, a knock sounded, and I dashed across the living room and threw open the door.
Sean stood there in the dim light, looking all kinds of sexy in his white T-shirt and tattered jeans. His hair was tucked behind his ear on one side and hanging freely on the other. His hands were shoved into his front pockets, and his head had been lowered, but he lifted it when he saw me and was currently doing that amazing thing with his mouth where I couldn’t tell if he was smirking or smiling and I didn’t care, because the combination looked incredible.
“Hey.” I grinned and moved to step back, but Sean reached out and took my face between his hands, backing me inside himself. He blindly kicked the door closed and pressed a kiss to my mouth, barely giving any tongue but giving enough that I felt that kiss all the way from top to toes.
“Mm,” I hummed when we were finished and swayed a little. Probably didn’t even need the Red Bull. I was wide awake now.
Sean stared at my lips and tugged at my bottom one with his thumb. “You look really fuckin’ pretty,” he said.
I swayed a little more.
Damn. Sean giving compliments—major kryptonite.
“You do this a lot?”
I quirked a brow, but going off the way he was concentrating on exactly one part of my face, I took a guess. “Wear lipstick? Yeah, but not always this dark.”
“You should. Jesus.” His eyes came up and I saw how heated they were. “I like this. Like the other shit too, but I like this.”
I grinned. “Well, excuse me while I go throw out every other color I own. Won’t be needing them anymore.”
He stared at me, his eyes going intense but only holding that emotion for a breath before he lowered them, dropped his hands, and stepped back.
“You okay?” I asked.
“I gotta tell you shit, and I don’t know how you’re gonna react,” he began, and I held my breath because I knew, oh, God, I knew, he was talking about the stuff he was never planning on telling me.
But now he was here, ready to share it all with me, and even though I wanted to know everything about this man, even the dirty stuff he was ashamed of, I worried he wasn’t ready.