Amazingly Broken

by Jordin Williams

  I slowly got up from the floor, opened the door, and walked into the living room. “Don’t get up,” I said as he looked at me. “You scared me tonight. I’m willing to listen, but I want you to stay over there.”

  “Elana, I would never hurt you.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” He looked contrite, but it was clear that his emotions had a hair pin trigger.

  “Bobby, he’s a bad guy. Everybody knows it.”

  “So, this is vigilante justice?”

  “No, not really.”

  “Well, what is it?”

  “I don’t know how to start.” He sighed and pushed his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Remember that call the other night?”

  “From your mom at the hospital?”

  “Yeah, well, it’s not a regular hospital. It’s a rehab facility.”

  “Oh, Jaxon,” I sat on the edge of the couch.

  “She had trouble after my sister’s accident. And when my dad left, she totally lost it. In the beginning, it was too much wine or a little pot. Nothing serious. When I left for school it got worse. She started taking pills. Fucking pills!”

  He rubbed his hands over his face until his skin was red. “Well, Lance and I come from a town up north in Florida. Bobby’s from there too. He always had reputation as a real asshole, but we never paid much attention to him. We started racing cars in high school. Lance’s dad helped us get started by paying for our first car. We kept ourselves real busy working on that thing. I think his dad was happy to help because we didn’t have time to get into trouble like Bobby and his friends.”

  “Bobby did drugs?”

  “Bobby sells drugs. Nothing big time. He isn’t like a crime boss or anything, but he’s a shitty little dealer all the same. He sold to my mom. When she ran out of money, he came to me. I paid him off the first time, but it didn’t make any fucking sense. What dealer gives drugs to an addict without payment? It’s like he wanted something to hold over me. I never did anything to him. He’s just on some kind of power trip. So, the last time, I told my mom I wasn’t paying. I told her the only thing I’d pay for is rehab.”

  “I’m sorry, Jaxon. I’m so sorry.”

  “You couldn’t know. It’s all too fucking stupid for anyone to guess. It’s like a bad TV movie.” He went into the kitchen for some water and stood still, staring at the blank TV screen.

  “She’s in rehab now, but the bills add up. I’ve got some of it covered and I have a partial scholarship for school, but she’s been bleeding me dry over time. I told Bobby to leave her the hell alone and forget the money. At first he said fine, but he keeps making jokes about it. He can’t stand to keep his damn mouth shut.”

  “Jaxon, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have overreacted. It’s just hard for me to see violence like that.”

  “I know, Toots. I shouldn’t act that way but the prick deserved it. Like I told you about my anger, I don’t have time for bullshit.”

  I walked over and gave him a hug. There was nothing sexual about it, but it felt solid and safe.

  “Do you want to sleep in the bed with me? Just sleep,” I said.

  “Thanks Toots, but I think I’m just gonna turn on the TV and sit here for a bit.”

  I paused for a second, surprised he turned down the offer. “I understand,” I sighed.

  I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him goodnight.

  Chapter 28

  The start of the week had been busy, and I was already exhausted by Wednesday afternoon. I had a long day of studying, classes and band practice at Tom’s on Tuesday. Everything was going well. I aced several tests and the guys in Tom’s cover band welcomed me with open arms. We hit it off musically and personally. It was like finding a group of long lost uncles. They played all the music my mom used to love and it felt good to think about her, for a change.

  The only downside was not seeing Jaxon. He left Tuesday afternoon for a race and he hadn’t been home since. He texted me in the morning to let me know where he was last night, and told me to have a good day. My thoughts kept drifting to him in spurts, but I had better control now. It was beginning to seem possible to imagine myself pulling off the whole thing—college, a job, and a boyfriend.

  The calendar has a way of complicating things. At home alone after class, I looked at the calendar and instantly realized the date for the first time. Time had flown by since I moved to Florida. Between Jaxon and school my mind had been occupied. It was five years ago that my mom died. We took her home and a hospice nurse visited every day. She kept getting thinner and her skin seemed almost translucent. Sometimes I wondered if she would die at all or if she would disappear one night while we were asleep. When she died, so many things went with her.

  This was the first time that my father and I weren’t together for the anniversary. Usually, he drank himself into a stupor by early evening, but with the time difference, I had a chance to catch him sober. I got my phone and went to the bedroom. Jaxon wasn’t home, but I wanted more privacy than the living room afforded. Plus, I never knew when Jaxon would come crashing through the door.

  Staring at his number for a long time, I had trouble pressing the call button. Then, I thought about how everything was getting better lately. Maybe he was too.

  It was all just wishful thinking.

  Taking a deep breath, I finally pressed it.

  “Hello?” he slurred.

  Hearing his voice again was a shock. He was already drunk. I was speechless.

  “I said hello!”

  “Dad, it’s Elana.”

  “What d’ya wan’?” He stumbled over his words, struggling to use his whisky-soaked mouth for anything other than drinking. “You left me. The leasht you c’n do is leave me alone.”

  “Dad, I had to go to school; you know that.” I had no choice but to leave. My body and mind took too much of a beating around him, but leaving didn’t erase the past, especially not the good things about the family we used to be. I guess I thought if I called, my old dad—the good one—might answer.

  “Whatever you shay. You got it all figur’d out. Cept how to use the damned phone. Why’re you callin’ if got nothin’ to shay?”

  “It’s the anniversary of Mom’s death,” I sighed. “I wanted to see how you're doing dad”

  “Well that’s jusht fuckin’ great. You think I need you callin’ here to remind me of thish shit? Get over it. Put it outta your mind. That’s what I did.”

  I could envision the spit flying out of his mouth with each slurred sentence. I sat down and tried to find something to say that would make things better or easier or just different. I thought of all the times I caught him sitting in the living room, in total darkness, holding a picture of my mom in one hand and a beer in the other. I worried about him being alone, with no one to roll him on his stomach and keep him from choking when he passed out. I wanted to comfort him, but I couldn’t. Nothing ever comforted him. Once his grief became unending rage, I had to stop trying to help him and save myself.

  “Okay, Dad. I just wanted to check on you.”

  “You’re a real pain in my assh—callin’ me to talk about your mother. You never call to talk about me. I haven't even heard from you shince you left.” He paused, and I could hear him taking a big swig and swallowing hard. “You left me just like she did. You always were mommy's little girl. Always pesterin’ her and needin’ things from her. I'm shtarting to think it wasn't the cancer that killed her—it wasss you!”

  His words tore through my heart. Despite all of the awful things he did, he never blamed her death on me. I wasn’t prepared for a phone call to hurt this much.

  “It wasn’t my fault, dad.” I cried. “You know it wasn’t.”

  “Whatever. You fuckin’ streshed her out so she couldn’t fight. You were the cancer. You’re a fuckin’ disease!” he screamed, “I won’t let you kill me. You jusht leave me ‘lone.”

  The phone went silent. My body was tense and I couldn't relax. I knew that I should have never called him. Eve
n thousands of miles away he could still hurt me. I couldn't stop the tears from streaming down my face. Did I have something to do with the cancer? They say stress doesn’t help, but did she really have to worry about me? I was always a good kid, never drank, never did drugs, and was an A-student. Still, maybe she worried anyway.

  Jaxon came running into the bedroom. I hadn’t even heard him come home. I tried to stretch my eyes open to hold the tears back. It was too typical to end up crying on his shoulder.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Do I look okay to you?” I said, rubbing my closed fists on my eyes. The tears started to flow despite my best efforts.

  “No, but that's what you're supposed to ask when someone is upset.”

  “It's okay. I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse.” I wanted to believe that, but I couldn't stop sobbing.

  He walked over, sat on the bed next to me, wrapping his arm around me, pulling me against his warm skin. The mingled smells of body wash, cologne, and him were like aromatherapy. Being close to him made me feel peaceful. My tears stopped as he rubbed his hand up and down my arm, soothing me. I pressed my body against his, trying to get closer, and he gave me a soft kiss on the forehead. His did it a second time, his lips lingering against my skin.

  “What happened,” he whispered.

  “I called my dad because today is the day when,” I stopped, overcome by sobs again. Pulling it together, I said, “My mom died five years ago today. I wanted to . . . I don’t know what I wanted.”

  “We can talk about it or not, Elana. You don’t have to tell me.”

  For some reason, I wanted to tell him. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. “When she died, he changed into this thing. He replaced her with alcohol and he’s never been the same,” I said, sniffling.

  “Is that why you wanted to leave?” he asked, squeezing me tighter.

  “Yes, he started drinking every day when he got home from work. When the alcohol didn’t make him feel better, he started to take it out on me. At first it was just words—calling me ugly or stupid or cheap—but it got worse over time. About a year before I left, he shoved me to the ground while he was screaming at me. I thought if I sat very still and let him get it out of his system, he would stop. He didn’t. It only got worse after that.”

  “He’s lucky you didn’t know me then. If he ever lays another hand on you, I will beat the fucking shit out of him. I don't care if they throw me in jail.”

  His words were angry, but it felt good to hear them. I never had the energy to get angry or put up a fight with my dad; eventually, he’d get tired and give up. Some days, it would take an hour, others less. I learned to protect my face so people wouldn’t ask questions and he wouldn’t be dragged off to jail. It was easier than fighting back.

  “You know I would do anything for you Elana,” he said.

  He lay back against the bed and I melted into him, resting my hand on his abs. I traced my finger across each tattoo. He felt so solid. I almost believed him.

  “What can I do? How can I make it better?” he asked, combing his fingers through my hair.

  “Just hold me.”

  I opened my eyes to find him staring deep into me. Sure he was cocky, full of tattoos, drove a muscle car, and had girls flocking to him but he was so much more.

  Chapter 29

  My hand rested on his neck while my thumb traced his chin. I backed away and looked up into his eyes. The human was showing in him, not the beast.

  “Do you want to go take a shower and then hit the bed?” he asked.

  “Will you be in there to cuddle with me?” I asked, secretly hoping that he would agree.

  “If you want me to,” he said, looking surprised.

  “I do,” I sighed, kissing his lips again.

  I jumped up from the couch and as I strode to the bathroom I looked back at him with a grin. He smirked but I was almost positive that mine was better. I never saw myself with someone like him before I moved to Florida, but now it was real. I wiped the last tear from my eye and closed the bathroom door.

  The hot water ran down my body as I soaked in my body wash and rubbed shampoo in my hair. Even though I wanted him, my nerves were running through my body like a wildfire. I’ve always been scared of what guys would think if they saw me naked. He told me I was beautiful and I thought that it was just a way to get me in bed but the way he was acting tonight made it real. I wanted to live up to his expectations.

  After rinsing the soap off, I turned the water off and grabbed a towel. When I was dry, I slipped my underwear on, cotton pink shorts, and white tank top. I shook my hair out of the towel letting my long brown long locks fall down my back. Looking in the mirror I pressed my braless breasts together and up while giving myself a pep talk.

  “You can do this. You can do this.”

  I walked back to the bedroom and opened the door. Jaxon was lying on the comforter in just his boxers like the night he fell asleep drunk at the end of the bed. He looked over at me and gave me a wide smile. I smiled back before pulling down the comforter and sheets and sliding in bed.

  “You know you can get under the comforter and sheets, right?" I asked nervously.

  “I didn't know if you wanted me in your bed.”

  “It's your bed Jaxon,” I said, burrowing my head into the pillow.

  “I decided long ago that you were staying here from now on and I was giving you the bedroom Toots. I don't mind sleeping on the couch.”

  “Doesn’t it remind you of all the girls you've been with?”

  “No,” he said before pausing. “I never slept with them on the couch or in this bed. If I did bring a girl home everything happened on the floor.”

  “Really?”

  “Really,” he insisted. “Those girls didn’t deserve my couch where I sit every day or my bed where I sleep.”

  I lay quietly on my back and recited his words in my head over. They didn’t deserve my couch where I sit every day or my bed where I sleep. I was in his bed though. Not having sex exactly, but I was sleeping in his bed and sitting on his couch.

  Jaxon stood up and pulled the comforter and sheets down before sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked out the open window and pressed his hands into the mattress. I could hear his calm and steady breaths going in and out.

  I sat up and crawled over to him, wrapping my arms across him. My hands trailed across to his chest and down to his abs before stopping at his boxer’s waist band. His hands grabbed each of my arms and moved from my shoulders to my elbows then to my wrists. I kissed his neck while his right hand let go of my wrist and wrapped to the back of my head and softly grabbed my hair. He combed his fingers through my half dried hair. Silence filled the room and his chest rose and fell under my hand.

  The muscles in his chest tightened under my fingertips which felt magnificent. I traced my finger around the indentation between his pecks and each chiseled ab muscle before moving my hand back up to his shoulders and down his muscular tattooed arms.

  We fell back against the bed and stayed like that for a long time. He was on his back and I was on my side, half-wrapping his body with mine. He rubbed my back slowly and let me relax completely. The sun set and the room was lit by the blue light of early evening. The window was open, a soft breeze blowing through the curtains. It brushed my cheek and arms, awakening something deep inside of me.

  I was suddenly aware of how his body felt against mine. Sliding up to his face, I rubbed myself against him. He turned and his lips kissed my forehead, my nose, and then my upper lip. They were moist and I could taste a hint of his chapstick. His lower lip slid between mine, softly massaging the opening. My eyes closed as his left hand rested on my cheek and his thumb wiped away my tears. His lips released and I opened my eyes to find him looking at me. There was a connection unlike anything I’d ever felt before. Everything that I’d worried about with my first impressions of him vanished, and I saw him as he was.

  Kind.

  Smart.
r />   Caring.

  Loving.

  Sexy, beyond abs and tattoos.

  “Elana,” he whispered.

  “Yeah, Jax.”

  “You know you're not a cancer or a disease. You’re a cure. You’re curing me every day,” he whispered.

  The words were so perfect that it surprised me. I never imagined how sweet and romantic he could be. I’d lusted after him without thinking about the heart and mind inside that body.

  “You’re curing me, too,” I whispered, my lips brushing his with each word.

  I didn't want the moment to end. It was everything I wanted. Everything I thought I would never find. Our lips stayed together, exploring each other slowly. I slid my hand up his abs to his chest, grabbing hold of his muscle, kneading it. I backed away and looked up into his eyes. The human was showing in him, not the beast from earlier.

  My heart pounded as I touched his neck with my lips and tasted his flesh in a slow, tender kiss. He looked down with surprise, and then his eyes softened with the realization of what I wanted.

  He wrapped his arms around me and gently turned us. He was on top of me now. He leaned down, pressing his lips against mine with a delicate sweetness. The heat from his lips traveled all the way to my toes and I pulled him closer to me.

  I parted my lips, letting his tongue find its way to mine. “I want you,” I said.

  Suddenly, the kiss slowed, and he tried to pull away. Determined to finish what I had started, my mouth worked against his more feverishly. In reaction, Jaxon backed away until he was on his knees. I rose with him, keeping our mouths melded together.

  He gripped my shoulders to hold me at bay. “Wait a sec,” he whispered with an amused smile, breathing hard. “You don’t have to do this. This isn’t something we have to do tonight. You’ve been through enough.”

  He was holding back, but I could see it in his eyes that his self-control wouldn’t last long. I leaned in again, his arms giving way enough for me to brush my lips against his.