Bound by Affliction

by Ryan Michele

  My lips want to move and tell him what I think. Tell him that I don’t need him that I’ll do just fine on my own. That he doesn’t need to stay and babysit me. I’m not his duty or responsibility.

  But as quick as the thoughts come, others intrude, pushing their way to the forefront wanting to be noticed—no, demanding to be the center of attention, punching the fire out to a soft smoke.

  Instead of answering, I pick up my fork and begin to eat again without a word.

  A knock comes to the door pulling me away from staring at the television, even though I have no idea what we’ve been watching or how long I’ve been sitting in this spot.

  Green holds out his hand to stop me. “Oh no, don’t you get up. I’ll get it,” he jokes, and I can feel my lips tip up for the first time since it happened, but quickly I brush it away. It feels wrong to smile, but I don’t really know why. Everything seems wrong so I guess that’s the biggest problem.

  Watching his movements, my heart picks up as he opens the door. That fear just won’t go away even with him here, protecting me—it’s still there, burning below the surface.

  “Hey, brother,” Green says, slapping the back of Jacks as he comes into my place. It’s strange because even though I’ve only met him once, I don’t fear him like I did those other guys. No, instead, I breathe in and out deep, cleansing the fear out of my system, or at least attempting.

  The door closes. “I’ve gotta head back up to Sumner.”

  “Somethin’ wrong?” Green asks.

  “Nah, just want to get back and check on my baby sister. I think she has a new boyfriend that I have to kill.”

  Green chuckles, “You have fun with that.”

  Jacks looks over at me, concern dancing in his eyes. “How ya doin’?” he says so softly as he comes and sits by me on the couch, and I try really hard to hide my flinch.

  “Good.”

  “Don’t lie to the man,” Green says, coming to me. He picks me up, sits down, and sets me on his lap. I should fight it. I should tell him to take a long walk off a short pier; instead, I gather in his warmth. “She’s havin’ nightmares. Eatin’ okay but won’t wear anything other than long sleeves and pants. It’s fuckin’ Florida and hotter than hell.”

  Lifting my head up, I feel as if I’m glaring at him, but I’m not sure. It seems foreign—this feeling starting inside if me. Instead of the words tumbling out of my mouth, I lay back down as Green takes a huge deep breath like he’s disappointed and wraps his arms around my small body.

  “Don’t let those fuckers ruin your life,” Jacks says.

  Suddenly I find my voice, surprising myself in the process. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

  “Maybe you need to talk about it,” Green says behind me. I dash up out of his arms, feeling my skin twisting with the movements around the cuts that are healing, all the while the slime those assholes left on me sticks to me everywhere.

  “No, that’s one thing we won’t talk about.” Wrapping my arms around myself, I absently begin to pace the living room, shaking my head as I do. Talking about it makes it more real, and I’ve already lived through it; I don’t need to relive it. I don’t want to think about it or dream it or anything with it. If there was some magic pill I could find to erase it, I would. Except that isn’t an option for me. I don’t live in Harry Potter world where a spell can change me into someone or something I’m not.

  I hear Green heave of breath before he says, “Yeah, we need to.”

  “On that note, I’m outta here,” Jacks says, and before I can blink he’s gone, leaving Green and me in the room. Me pacing, him staring at me from the couch. I don’t want to hear what he has to say. I don’t want to think about it on my own; the nightmares and images are too much for me to handle. No. no. no.

  “Green, I’m tired. I’m going to lay down.”

  Making my way over to the bed, Green rises and blocks my way, itching up my anxiety. Not from him, but the topic I know he won’t let go. “Baby, we need to get this out. Keepin’ all this shit bottled up inside you, does no one any good.”

  “Don’t.”

  His hands come to my face, mine go to his wrists. His face is so close to mine and I inhale him, sucking in his comfort. “You need to talk about it,” he whispers.

  “I can’t,” I squeeze out with all of my strength, which let’s be honest isn’t much.

  Something flashes in his eyes. It’s not just one emotion—it’s several, and he seems to be at war with himself.

  I push, “I’ll never talk about it.”

  Regret fills me as soon as those words slip out, because the look in his eyes turns into determination. One thing I’ve learned about Green is never give him a challenge. Never throw down a gauntlet of any type because he’ll fight back. We went back and forth over stupid things over the phone, and he wouldn’t give up. He was relentless, and what did I do? Put a red cape on and go in with a bull. Shit.

  I try to speak but am stopped by him. “You will talk about this. I’m gonna push this, Leah, and you’re gonna fuckin’ hate me for it, but I’m okay with that if it helps you in the end.”

  A tear fills my eyes, but not to play Green into not making me talk; no, the tears are from the pain—from the memories swirling around my head. I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to replay all of it again. My head begins shaking back and forth as nerves spark everywhere.

  “Please,” I whisper and see a crack in Green’s demeanor for a moment only for his determination to return and seal that crack back together.

  “When I found you, you were tied to a bed by your hands and feet.” I rip my hands away from him, wrap my arm around my waist and plop the nail of my thumb in my mouth as it all comes rushing back more vivid than the dreams. It’s almost as if I’m above looking down at what is happening to me. I can see the pain. I can see the defeat. I can see them… him.

  “You had blood everywhere, Leah. It was coming out of your body so fast, I had no idea what to do to stop it all from leaving you. No one place I touched helped the other.”

  Tears fall as my paces quickens, like if I move just a little bit faster this will all go away. He’ll stop talking and I can go back into my hole where I need to be. If I keep walking then I can’t talk because no person can walk and talk at the same time, right? If I keep walking all the memories will evaporate into nothing, leaving me alone. This entire conversation will end.

  “Your cuts were deep, marring in so many places there wasn’t just one wound for me to stop. Black and blue,” his voice whispers, and a chill runs up my spine. “Your entire body from head to toe was black, blue or red. Your eyes were swollen shut.”

  I grip my head in my hands careful not to touch my hair because it still aches. “Stop. Please just stop.” My legs are on a marathon moving so fast my toes don’t take time to dig into the carpet. If my place were bigger there wouldn’t be so many turns screwing me up.

  “No,” he says softly. “I carried you out of that room, and you kept losing consciousness. When the EMT got there…”

  “Stop!” I yell with everything I have in me, but he doesn’t listen.

  “I had to hold gauze to some of your wounds to staunch the bleeding. I could feel your blood on my fingers, and I could do nothing to stop it.”

  My mind snaps and waves of something flow through my veins. Instead of pacing, I charge Green and shove my hands into his chest hard. “You don’t think I know what they did to me!”

  I hit him again, but he doesn’t move or fight back.

  “I was there. Every damn second, only getting the slightest reprieve when the darkness filled my head.” I hit him again, but he doesn’t budge. “And you want me to talk about it! You’ve lost your mind!”

  An emotion I haven’t felt in a while spins its web, boiling my blood, staggering my breaths and my fingers twitch. Anger. No, rage like no other fills me, clawing out of my body and pursing itself in the air around us.

  “Tell me!” G
reen fires back at me still allowing me to hit him, but I don’t care. I don’t care about anything, all I see is red. Fire-breathing dragon red.

  “What do you want to hear? How they attacked me in the kitchen of the place where I was supposed to feel safe. That they thought it was fun to punch me and hear my cries. How they dragged me up the stairs by my hair and feet, hitting my back with every step. How they wrapped rope around my wrists and ankles so tight I barely felt them after a while. Do you want to know that they took turns stabbing me with the blade over and over again until my crying became too much, and they’d punch me in the jaw to get me to shut up. Oh, but that’s not all.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I step far away from Green. “The best part is when they ripped my hair from my skull so I’d bring Bristyl to him.” Then my flame-breathing self looks Green directly in the eye. “And you idiots let her come alone!!!”

  Releasing my arms, I clench and unclench my fingers not knowing exactly what to do with them at the moment. I should go back over there and hit him some more, but I don’t.

  “You’re right. She shoulda never been there alone.”

  My brows pinch as I burst, “Ya think! That’s all those assholes wanted was Bristyl! And I got stuck as the runner-up, lucky me!” My screams can probably be heard down the street, but I don’t care one little bit. No one came when I was tied up, hurt, and screaming. No one would come now either.

  Green walks into my path forcing me to have to look up at him. “What they did to you was reprehensible, Leah.”

  “Why do I note a but in there.”

  Green smiles, full out, and I’m tempted to smack it off his face.

  “But…” he drawls out like it’ll help his cause. He gently grasps my arms and pulls me to him. “You’re alive, Leah. You lived. Those fuckers didn’t.”

  Alive. Yeah, right. This isn’t alive. This isn’t living. This is a perpetual hell I can’t seem to escape, swirling me down deeper and deeper. I feel like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, turning and twisting hitting my head all the way down, only to realize there is no bottom. It just keeps going on forever and forever. I’m freefalling. And I hate it.

  “It happened to me!” I point to my chest. “Me. Not you, so I don’t need to hear your shit, nor do I want to. You have no idea what I’m going through!”

  “I do, more than you know.” He looks down to the ground and back up. “You wanna get pissed and hit me, go for it. You wanna throw shit, I’ll pick it up. You wanna scream and yell, I’ll take it, but you’re gettin’ this shit out of ya one way or another.”

  He’s too damn calm, and it’s pissing me off. “Why are you so calm? Knock it off!” I’m not sure what I want from him, but calm isn’t it. It’s irritating and annoying—hell, those mean the same thing. Breaking away I move, but he doesn’t let me get far. The thoughts bombard me, but the anger is in the forefront, and anger I can deal with. The other shit, not so much.

  “How did you feel?”

  “Are you serious right now? You’re asking me how I feel! I just told you what happened!” I stand at the door pressing my hands to it, looking at the floor, my breathing ragged. I flip to him. “Dirty! That make you happy? I’m dirty, disgusting, and nothing will ever get it off of my skin, and I’m not talking about the hundreds of scars on my body. It would have been better if they just killed me and got it over with!”

  He comes to me trying to wrap me in his arms, but I scoot away getting a foot from him. “I want you to leave. Now.” It’s a demand and not a weak one like before.

  “No.” God, I hate his calm. When we used to write letters, it was the one thing I could count on with him. The fact that he could turn any hesitations I had and flip them around, finding the positive or the solace I didn’t see there. Now, it just pisses me off.

  The twig breaks in me, and my hands go flying and connect with Green’s chest. My screams come out so hoarse I’m not sure that they’re mine, but everything comes pouring out of me—the rage, hurt, desperation, fear, horror… all of it comes out, bleeding through my poors. Nothing is coherent, and my mind is so jumbled even I don’t know what I’m thinking. All I know is this feels. Like what, I’m not sure–but if feels.

  After exhausting myself after long minutes, I make a step back, my breaths coming so hot and heavy I could pass out. That’s when the tears hit, but I hold on to that anger with every fiber inside of myself because I need time away from him. Time to burrow down deeper and escape. “Out or I’m calling the police and my parents to have you removed.”

  “I’m not going.” Damn him.

  “Leave!” I scream, but it’s out of pain. I feel myself falling to my knees hard on the floor as sobs rake my body, one after the other, and I ignore the sharp pain up my thighs.

  How does life go on after something like this?

  11

  Green

  Sitting on the floor with a sobbing woman in my arms, I rock her back and forth, kissing the top of her head. She yells as she cries, some things I can make out while others are just words all together in a continuous line. All of it cuts me deep, but I’m relieved at the same time. It’s, at least, a start.

  I hope I’m not a dick, but this is what she needs. Never having dealt with this before, it’s a guessing game. But my gut hasn’t let me down yet, and I hope this isn’t the time it does.

  She filled in the blanks on some of the things no one knew, but I don’t think it’s anywhere near all out of her. There’s no way. Watching her breakdown in my arms though is rough. All I can do for her is to hold her and try to give her the comfort and safety she deserves.

  The fire she showed me just now though, tells me to keep at this. Keep poking the bear as one would say. Damn I missed that, the Leah she was before all of this shit. I want her back, and I’ll damn well get her.

  A phone rings off in the distance only to stop and start all over again. Leah’s body is curled around me, eyes puffy from crying, but calm, breathing even, asleep. The asshole on the other end of that phone breaks this spell and is going to get their ass kicked.

  Ever so slowly, I maneuver my body out from under Leah only to replace it with a pillow. She groans just as the phone rings again. Fucking hell.

  Finding the offender, I swipe it. “What?”

  “Let me talk to Leah.” Bristyl’s angry voice comes across the line. Cooper must be in the doghouse from her tone. Fuck.

  Looking over to the bed, Leah is wiping the sleep away from her swollen eyes. If it weren’t Bristyl, I’d be pissed as hell, but with the shit she went through right alongside Leah, I’m not.

  “It’s Bristyl.”

  Leah moves faster than she has these last few days and snatches the phone out of my hand. “Bristyl?”

  “I’m okay. Well, not really but I’m working on it.” I hold in my snort or disagreement and she pays me no mind.

  She starts walking around her place. I fucking hate listening to a one-sided conversation and when she starts going through parts of what happened, which surprises me, I listen attentively. With every detail repeated a knife goes into my heart, twisting and turning, shredding me from the inside out. If there were some way to erase it all from her head, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, I’m not that lucky. Rubbing my hand over my face, I lay back in the bed and look up at the ceiling. This entire thing is fucked up beyond reason. Not to mention, I’ve been here for a long damn time. I know I’m needed for runs back home, and they’re giving me this time. I don’t know how much though.

  Where does that leave Leah? With me gone—exactly what she wants, which can’t happen, not now.

  A small hint of a giggle erupts and I take it in, letting it absorb. It’s been too damn long since I’ve heard it and here Leah is, giving it freely. When I hear, “Yeah, make him pay,” I silently chuckle to myself, and I thank Cooper for being a dick. If he wasn’t, then I wouldn’t get to hear my girl almost laugh.

  Leah is a little lighter once she hangs up the phone, her
eyes darting over to me. “He didn’t tell her. Did you know that?”

  “Yep.” And knowing her, she’ll get pissed; at least one can hope. Pissed is showing more emotion than staring at the damn wall.

  “Yep?” Her hand goes to her hip and her foot jets out in that stance women take when they’re about to lay it out. The fire from our earlier conversation is back, and I’m loving that shit. “You should have told Bristyl! She’s my best friend!”

  Moving to her, she shifts only a touch, her blazing gaze not letting this go in the least. “Not my place. You were my place.”

  “Me! I’m your place. What the hell does that even mean?”

  Gently, I reach the back of her neck and pull her to me, so close, but not touching. My dick gets hard and I have to will it down, but it doesn’t work.

  “Leah, you wanna be pissed. Be pissed. But it’s done. Let Bristyl and her man hash it out.”

  “I can’t think with you this close.” She takes a huge step back, putting a wide ocean between us. This can’t happen. I won’t allow it to. I’m not giving up the small inches of progress I’ve made with her.

  “That’s the point.”

  “Green, I …” She takes steps back, and disappointment floods me. If this were before the attack, I’d grab her, kiss her until she couldn’t remember her name or where she lived and take her to bed, and we wouldn’t be laying sleeping. Unfortunately, that option isn’t in the cards now. Those assholes took that away from us and I have to be the one to get it back. Get us to where we were before all this shit broke into a million pieces, shattering like glass.

  Instead of pushing, I give her an out. “Come on, let’s watch something.”

  Her deep exhale doesn’t go missed as we do like we always do, sit and stare.

  I block the doorway to the bathroom and hand Leah the piece of paper. “Read it.” Breaking Leah out of her shell isn’t going to be easy, but I’m damn well going to try.

  “What is this?”