Chat

Home > Other > Chat > Page 9
Chat Page 9

by Theresa Rite


  “Just thrust in. Don’t go slow.”

  She cried out, arching her back as her hand dipped out of my view.

  “Deep. As far as you can, and curve your fingers.”

  “Jason…”

  “Curve them up, do you feel that?” Ah, fuck, I was going to come in my office, and all I had was a travel pack of fucking Kleenex and a couple napkins from the cafeteria.

  “Oh God… oh God, what…?” She moaned, her hand working faster. Every time she made that sound in her throat, I lost my mind. My balls tightened, and I thrust harder.

  “That’s your spot. It’s swollen, keep touching it.”

  “Jason… fuck me,” she screamed.

  Her gravelly voice was my limit. I shuddered, attempting to come into the wad of tissues I’d grabbed with my left hand.

  “I’m fucking you, Sandy. Only me,” I said, thrusting twice more into my hand.

  Only me for the rest of our lives.

  The thought hit me, instantly sobering.

  “Shit,” she sat up, jostling the phone. “Shit, the doorbell. My mom’s here.”

  I heard Joplin barking at the door, and I took a steadying breath. “Calm down. Sandy,” I called.

  She lifted the iPhone, smiling shyly into the camera. “What just happened?”

  “I fucked the hell out of you from my office. That’s what just happened. And I have a mess to clean up over here. Thanks, babe,” I teased, and she grinned.

  “Really? At work?”

  Joplin barked louder, and I nodded. “Go get the door. Check the peephole first, make sure it’s your mom.”

  “I will. Thank you,” she added quietly.

  “I can’t wait to come home,” I replied, ending the call.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Sandy

  “I was depressed. I was diagnosed with depression, anyway,” I added, reaching for the throw pillow on Dr. Adam’s couch. When I realized that probably every patient who came in gripped that pillow as they confessed all of their darkest secrets, I gingerly set the thing aside.

  Dr. Adams, the first female psychiatrist I’d ever seen, gave me a gentle smile. “You don’t believe that you were depressed,” she mused, more of a statement than a question.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I was, but that wasn’t the reason I was there. I was there because Jack hit me and…,”

  I trailed off, picking at a piece of lint on my jeans.

  “Sandy?” Her calming tone became just a little more stern, and I raised my eyes.

  “He raped me. I know that now. I didn’t think it was okay to call it that, since he was my boyfriend. But my friend, Jessica, told me to call it what it was.”

  She wrote something on her notebook, her eyes a mask of pity. “Can you tell me about Jessica?”

  “Jess?” I smirked, shrugging again. “We’ve been friends for almost four years. We go out sometimes.”

  “Shopping, movies?” she probed.

  I thought about the last time Jessica and I had made plans to meet for coffee on a Sunday morning. Jack had given me the biggest guilt trip since he was in town for the first time in two weeks.

  He’d moved quickly to anger, saying that he couldn’t help but be jealous that I’d rather spend my time with my friend than him.

  “Jess’s mom is so sick, Jack,” I’d reasoned, my eyebrows knitting, my voice pleading. “She’s terminal. She needs my support.”

  He’d glared at me, his eyes a mask of disappointment. Finally, he walked away, ignoring me for the rest of the day. No matter how many times I spoke to him, he refused to answer me. I’d finally broken down in tears, begging him to speak to me.

  He’d taken me to bed, and I ended up canceling with Jessica Sunday morning.

  “Sandy?”

  The doctor’s voice brought me back to the present, and I blinked, reminding myself that my mother was just a few feet away, in the waiting room.

  “Sometimes,” was all I managed.

  She waited for me to elaborate, and when I looked down at my fingernails, she pushed on.

  “Jack chose your counselors in the past?” she confirmed.

  I raised my eyes. “Yes. Only males. He didn’t want to feel like he was being attacked.”

  “Attacked?” she asked.

  “Ganged up on. Because women stick together, and before long, we’d have him starring in his own abusive Lifetime movie. That’s what he said.”

  She jotted something down on her white notepad before continuing. “Any other friends, other than Jessica?”

  I smiled. I couldn’t help my ear to ear grin. “Jason Brewer. I’ve known him since second grade. Brew, I call him,” I corrected.

  Dr. Adams returned my smile. “You are very close to Jason?”

  I thought of the night before, and the myriad of expressions that must have washed over my face were enough for the doctor to urge me on with a patient nod.

  I clasped my hands together nervously. “We’ve been best friends all of our lives. Platonic. He and I work together, and he was promoted to my boss a year ago, right before he got married.”

  “So Jason is married?”

  “He was. He got divorced after four months. That was the other time that Jack hit me. I let Jason come over while Jack was out of town, and we watched a movie and had pizza. We’ve done that since we were kids, whenever either one of us goes through a break-up.”

  She wrote something else down, and with a careful sigh, leaned forward slightly. “Tell me about that time, Sandy.”

  I nudged my glasses up my nose, reminding myself that there was no use crying about the past. Gripping my fingers, I kept my eyes focused on the dark brown swirl in the carpet.

  “I never hid anything from Jack. When he came home that Sunday, he saw the empty beer bottles and the pizza box, and I told him that Jason had stayed over on the couch. Elaina, Jason’s ex, had really broken his heart. He needed me, and I wanted to be there for him.”

  “This is what you told Jack?” Dr. Adams clarified.

  “Yes. Jason used the fire escape in our bedroom to come in. For no reason, really, other than just to be… himself. He’s fun, and spontaneous, and I’ve always loved that about him.”

  She smiled.

  “Anyway, it’d been raining, and Jason’s boots had left muddy footprints near the window. I’d been bent over the carpet, cleaning when Jack came home. The fact that he was in our bedroom infuriated him.”

  I felt my pulse flutter, and I took a deep breath.

  “I understood that. I told him that I was sorry, and there was no reason for him not to use the front door. He was just being his dorky self. I made a joke out of it, and that only made Jack angrier, I think,” I reasoned. “I wasn’t thinking of his feelings or respecting his space. So we started arguing. At first I was apologetic, and when he wasn’t responding to that, I became defensive. Because I really hadn’t done anything to deserve the way he was screaming at me,” I exhaled the words in one breath, my stomach fighting a surge of nausea.

  “Let’s stop there for just a moment,” Dr. Adams suggested, her pen working twice as fast as it had been before. “Tell me a little more about Jason. Tell me why he makes you smile so big.”

  Inevitably, I smiled again, my breaths coming a little easier. “Jason… is everything.”

  The words came out before I could think about them.

  She arched her manicured eyebrows, her golden-brown bob framing her petite face. “Everything?”

  “He stopped Jack from… from continuing to hurt me, this last time. And he stayed with me the whole time I was in the hospital. He came over every night, to my parent’s house, and ate dinner with us that first week. And then…,”

  I drifted into silence, and Dr. Adams widened her smile, encouraging. “And then?”

  “I moved in with him.” I covered my face with my hands.

  “Are you happy with your decision to move in with him?” She asked.

  I nodded without looking at her.r />
  “Jason sounds wonderful,” she concluded, reaffirming what I already knew while offering me reassurance that it was okay to feel what I was feeling.

  “He is.”

  She only smiled in return.

  “And without getting into detail,” she went on, “Jack struck you, and then raped you after finding Jason’s footprints by the window, am I correct?”

  “I had already told him Jason was over. Jack was furious that he’d come in through our bedroom window.”

  I hated- loathed- the defensive tone that my voice took on.

  She noted something in her folder.

  “Yes, he hit me, across my left eye. And then he bent me over the back of the couch. The first time he’d done it, I’d been drinking, and it didn’t hurt as much. That time…” I stopped, thinking about the way he’d just kicked my legs open and shoved inside of me. I had still been reeling from the blow to my cheek, and so angry, scared and hurt. That moment, I lost every shred of trust I’d ever had in him.

  I tried to take a deep breath, but the next one came too fast. I gripped my fingers, attempting to breathe evenly.

  “Okay,” Dr. Adams leaned forward, and as I blinked through the tears I realized that she was offering me a tissue. “Honey, at any point, if you’d like for your mother to come in with you, that’s just fine,” she coaxed.

  “I’m thirty-four years old,” I sniffed, dabbing at my eyes under my glasses. “My mom knows too much as it is.”

  “Let’s stop here.” She nodded, looking down at her notepad. The better part of our meeting had consisted of me telling her about my family, my job, and gathering information about my parents. I was both saddened and relieved to see that the hour had passed so quickly. I had wanted it to be over, and yet now I knew that our next session was that much closer. “For now, Sandy, I want you to focus on getting well. Inside and out. That means taking good care of yourself and talking when you need to talk. I’m understanding that Jason is a good listener?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, battling the next wave of tears that threatened.

  “Good,” she concluded. “It sounds like you’ve been there for him many times in your lives. Let him return the favor.”

  I nodded.

  “Are you worried for your safety?” she probed.

  “I’m filing a restraining order today on Jack. And Jason is taking me away on Friday… we’re going to the beach. He insists we both need a vacation.”

  She smiled, rising to her feet, and I followed suit. “I couldn’t agree more. The sun alone is the best prescription. I know you said at the beginning of our session that you weren’t interested in taking medication, but I would like to propose an herbal supplement,” she went on, scribbling on her prescription pad. “It’s over the counter and is generally used to combat anxiety. If you see a return of the panic attacks that you described, something stronger may be necessary. But we’ll start here, Sandy.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, accepting the slip of paper.

  “You’ll need to use another form of local contraceptive while taking this medication,” she added, and I watched her read over the paperwork that I’d filled out while waiting. “I see you’re on birth control. Your pill will be less effective with this supplement.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, following her out to the waiting room. I wanted to comment that it didn’t matter anyway, but I had a feeling that the doctor knew that it did.

  I would talk to Jason later.

  Filing the restraining order proved to be more emotional than I’d anticipated. I’d left the hospital with pamphlet after pamphlet of domestic violence literature and had been encouraged to consider having a domestic violence advocate at my side when filing the papers. I knew that I’d only need my mom, and Molly Quinn, with her fighting-Irish attitude, proved to be the best medicine for me that day.

  By the time we’d finished with the notary and the Clerk of Courts, Jason had texted me twice. As I went into the drugstore to get the herbal supplement that the doctor had suggested, I replied to his text with a smile.

  Brew: I can’t concentrate. I’m worried about you. All okay?

  Me: I’m okay. My mom has been with me all day. I don’t know what I’d do without her. Or you.

  His text forced me to smile brighter.

  Brew: Back at you, Boss. See you soon.

  I bought tampons and a quart of strawberry ice cream as I considered with my parents for the night. My mom glanced at my shopping bag, nodding firmly.

  “You go wherever you’re comfortable, Sandy, honey. But remember, Jason was married, he knows women have their time, no need to be embarrassed.”

  Embarassed? I almost laughed at my mother’s words, thinking about the night before. Jason and I had no secrets, especially now.

  When Jason came home, Joplin remained at my side on the couch, her chin resting on my lap. Jason pushed his sunglasses up, dropped his laptop to the floor by the door, and tossed his keys into the bowl as he watched me turn.

  “Strawberry ice cream… Friends re-runs… my sweatpants… aw, poor baby,” he crooned, pressing a kiss to the side of my neck.

  Oh, God, his greeting was more intimate than me being naked and blindfolded in his arms.

  I forced a smile as he dropped to the couch next to me. “Sorry,” I murmured, apologizing for no reason, and he scoffed.

  “Sorry you’re a girl? San, that’s my favorite part about you,” he teased, patting his lap. When Joplin didn’t move, he made a face at her. “Traitor,” he accused. The dog whined, and I grinned.

  “She’s been with me all afternoon. It’s like she knows how much cramps suck.”

  “My girls stick together,” he murmured, reaching for the remote. “I’ll trade you a foot rub for The Walking Dead.”

  “Deal,” I agreed immediately.

  Shifting on the couch, I dropped my feet into his lap.

  His hands worked over my fuzzy pink socks, and I drifted in and out of sleep during the show. When his thumbs pressed against my arches, I moaned softly. He froze, turning my way.

  “Noises like that will get you in trouble,” he warned playfully, resuming his talented massage. I grinned, leaving my eyes closed.

  “Sorry. It just feels amazing, Brew. How was your day?”

  “The highlight was the morning. After that, it was pretty much downhill.”

  I flushed, turning into the couch. “I can’t believe we did that.”

  He only pushed harder on my foot, and I bit my lip to stifle another pleasured cry.

  “How was your day?”

  “Hard.” I left it at that, and as though he could read my mind, he took a moment to run his hands over my ankles and calves.

  “I know, baby.”

  I drifted off to sleep, vaguely aware that he told me he was going for a run and would be back to make us dinner in a little while.

  The doorbell roused me sometime later, and I sat up, confused. He must have locked himself out, I realized, moving quickly to the front door. Joplin barked, following at my side.

  I had the door open before I realized who was standing on the front porch.

  “Alexandra, wait-”

  “Jack,” I breathed, trying to close the front door. His wide palm slapped against the wood, and I jumped. Joplin went crazy, barking and growling, and I tried to nudge her away with my knee.

  “Wait, honey. Let me talk to you,” he begged.

  He was so fucking handsome, standing there in his suit, obviously just having left work. His face was black and blue, and there was noticeable swelling in his nose. “I can’t talk to you anymore. I filed a restraining order today. Please.”

  I broke into unavoidable tears, watching his face fall.

  “God, look at your eye. I can’t believe I did that to you. Alexandra, please let me hold you, let me tell you how sorry I am,” he pleaded. Joplin whined and growled behind me, desperately trying to get past my legs and dart out the front door.

  “You have to go,” I sobbe
d, backing out of his reach as he moved toward me.

  “Can we please try to work this out? I want to marry you, I do, and if that’s what it’ll take to get you to come home, then-”

  “This is my home, right now,” I snapped, pointing at his Audi. “Leave. Jason will be out here any minute.” Jason, please come home, please, I willed with all of my strength.

  “Brewer.” He spat Jason’s last name with disdain. “Don’t you think maybe you share a little of the blame for what’s happened? How would you feel if I had some girl sneaking in and out of our bedroom window while you were out of town?”

  “Blame? For what’s happened?” I screamed, rage pouring through my veins like acid. As my tone changed, Joplin went absolutely crazy, clawing at the door. “No I don’t deserve to be blamed for what you did to me!”

  “Alexandra, that’s not what I meant,” he hissed, and then glared down at my feet. “Shut up you fucking dog!”

  “Don’t yell at her!”

  His hand shot out too fast. I didn’t expect his grip on my upper arm to be so cruel, so angry, and I winced. “Get in the car right now.”

  I reared back and kicked the door open, and Joplin attacked before I could scream.

  Her teeth sunk into his leg, and he roared, rearing back to punch her.

  “Don’t you fucking dare.”

  Jason’s voice startled me from behind. He must have come in through the back door.

  He held a gun in his hand, and aimed it at Jack.

  “Just call her off and I’ll leave!” he shouted, trying to put his hands in the air.

  “Joplin,” Jason called firmly. The shepherd released Jack, moving to Jason’s side. “Come in, motherfucker. Please, trespass in my fucking home.”

  Jason’s cool tone was laced with malice. He wore a tight, gray t-shirt and black track pants, and the sweat trickling down his neck from his run gleamed in the late evening sun. He was broad-shouldered, muscled, and intimidating as hell as he towered over Jack.

  Jack exhaled slowly, hands still in the air. “This doesn’t involve you, Brewer.”

  “I think it does. Sandy lives here, and this is our house. She’s sleeping in my bed now, not yours.”

 

‹ Prev