by Peiri Ann
“Put your arms out.” I do, against my inner will.
He takes the knife and cuts my arm from the vein in the crook of my elbow, to my palm, to the tip of my middle finger. I can feel it—all the pain—and I want to scream. But I can’t—I can neither move nor cry out.
I feel the wetness of tears against my cheeks. He notices and smiles. Then he does the other arm. I feel myself growing faint as the blood rushes from my arms. The pain is unbearable and my head spins.
“Know that it’s not your fault that this is happening. This isn’t about you; this is about Nathan. He will come to save you when I release you. And when he heals you, saving your life, you will leave him. Do you understand?”
I nod, my mind filling with thoughts of leaving Nathan. I have no desire for him.
“And for good measure.” He places the knife to my temple, not going deep, and cuts me quickly from there to my jawline.
I hit the bench, seeing nothing.
“Tracey!” I open my eyes, hazily seeing another Nathan. I close them quickly.
“Tracey, please wake up.” No! “Tracey, open your eyes.”
I open them and my mind slowly clears. I no longer feel pain or the gushing of blood. Warm hands cuff my cheeks. Through my haze, I see him looking back at me with green and brown eyes.
I push his hands away from my face. “Don’t touch me!” I say disgustingly.
“What? Baby, what’s wrong? What happened to you?” Concern fills his voice.
I get up and he grabs my arm. My body is confused, fighting against wanting his touch and not wanting it. It’s a weird feeling: craving and disgust at the same time.
I look at his hand grasping my arm, trying to make sense of it. I rip my arm from his hand. My chest tightens worse than I’ve ever felt, my knees hit the ground, and I buckle over forward, catching myself with my hands.
I reach for my chest, confused. What is happening to me? Nathan is at my side, trying to help me from the ground.
“Tracey, just try to relax and talk to me for minute, please?”
I look at him, not sure about who he is. My heart tells me he’s okay, but my mind tells me not to trust him. “Why do you keep bothering me?” He looks at me confused, and squints his eyes as he stares. “What are you doing?”
His expression softens and he backs up a little. “I’m sorry, Tracey. Can I please talk to you for moment?” He stands with his hands in his pockets.
“Why?”
“Please?” His expression is innocent and wanting.
I recognize him, but something in me rejects him, while the other half wants him. “Why did you do this to me?”
“Can you tell me what I did?”
I can’t. I just remember him hurting me. “No,” I say too quickly. Nothing is clear.
He steps up to me and I back away. “Can we walk?”
I’m okay with walking; I want to get home anyway. “Nathan, right?” I say, walking past him.
“Yes,” he says hurtfully.
“I don’t want to be with you. I don’t want to have anything to do with you. I need you out of my life.” Each statement is a question, more than a feeling. Confusion floods me as my heart and mind fight against each other about this Nathan.
“Tracey, this isn’t you talking.”
“You don’t know me. Can’t you just listen to me and leave me the hell alone?” My mind wins. “Don’t come around here anymore.”
I take off in a full sprint, not understanding why I need to get away from him so fast. Two yards and he is in front of me, pulling me to him by my waist and planting his lips against mine. It feels like heaven. Butterflies fill my body as he kisses me, not stopping. He opens my mouth with his, sweeping his tongue against mine.
His taste sends my taste buds, body, and heart insane. I kiss him back subconsciously, wanting more of whatever it is he has. I slowly reach up to his neck and hair, not sure if it’s appropriate. He doesn’t stop me and it feels familiar to my touch.
His kiss deepens and becomes more desperate. No! I push him back and he pulls me close, kissing me gently.
“Remember me, Tracey,” he begs in-between kisses. Quickly, he picks me up and backs us from the trail into the darkness of the woods and against a tree. “Please?” He lifts my shirt, placing his hands against my back. Calm and desperation fills me.
I pull back and his eyes are desperate, colored in a sandy, ocean-blue.
“You tricked me!” I try to push him away, force him to move from me. He doesn’t budge as he grabs my arms and pushes them over my head. The tree bark scratches my skin.
His eyebrows scrunch together, confused. “How?”
“You made me trust you, and then you demanded that I leave you.”
“It wasn’t me, Tracey.”
“Looked like you. You cut me.” I’m calm, unsure, and confused.
“Baby, it wasn’t me. Can you remember?” His voice is desperate. He grabs my chin and I turn away. He grabs it again, letting go of my arms. “I’ll never hurt you.” He looks as if he wants to kiss me. “Tracey, trust me.”
I do, kiss him—not knowing why. He floods me like an empty cup. He’s everywhere, flowing all over, flooding me with memories and feelings that aren’t familiar to me but that I know I had once felt.
I push him away. It still feels wrong.
“Let me get you home.” I say nothing, still fighting against my feelings.
He grabs my hand and I yank it away.
“Tracey, stop fighting me,” he says through gritted teeth.
“I will—if you stop touching me,” I say, walking ahead of him.
He walks through the front door with me. That’s out-of-place, considering my mom would flip out. He walks with me, up the stairs to my room, and closes and locks the door.
“What ar—”
“Shh—don’t raise your voice.” He turns off the lights and starts walking over to me. I make him out by the moonlight.
“Tracey, don’t pull away from me.” His voice is low and serious, but welcoming. “I love you, and I don’t want you to leave me.”
“I do—”
“Shh—don’t, Tracey,” he begs. He grabs me, hands on either side of my face. He looks at me, letting me study his strong face.
I shake my head. He looks just like the character that tricked me—just different eyes and a more familiar voice. He kisses me softly, taking his time in each kiss, taking my breath away every time his lips make contact with mine. He gives my upper lip attention, then focuses the rest on my bottom one.
I let him, enwrapped in the feeling it provides. It feels right and a part of me wants it…wants him. My heart and body hanker for him, making me match his kiss and touch when I get the chance.
I feel weightless, my head feels light, and I feel free and comfortable. But my mind screams at me to leave him alone.
I want to stop, to move him away from me, but I don’t. He pushes me back to my chaise and I sit upon it as he stands in front of me. He stares down at me, through squinted eyes, as I try to figure him out. I’m confused as I argue with myself about wanting him and not.
He kneels in front of me. “Tracey, whatever happened, it wasn’t me. I would never hurt you.”
“You did hurt me. And I don’t want you. You told me not to want you. You should leave.”
“Stop this, Tracey.”
I try to stand, but he leans forward, keeping me seated. He comes closer, forcing me to lay my head against the back of the chaise as I look at him. He kisses me softly and desire fills me. My heart thumps in my chest, demanding that I have him. My lips kiss him back, forcing my need for him. But my mind screams at me, making me reject him.
I push him, and he grabs my arms with one hand, while the other lifts me from the chaise. A wind rushes against my back and we are lying upon my bed.
I blink in astonishment, registering how fast we moved.
He moves, kissing over my neck to my ear, and whispers softly, “Remember me, Tracey,
” as his hands travel under my shirt, grabbing my waist. “I’m sorry, baby. Just remember me.”
He kisses over my neck as my shirt rises, soon coming over my head. I forget to stop him, feeling his lips cover my chest and my stomach, then he comes back, staring at me.
I watch his eyes, swirling before me. They are so familiar, an ocean-blue with a sand-brown circling behind it.
“You will remember me, Tracey. I’ll fix it.”
I mindlessly reach for him, pulling him down to kiss me. My mind screams against me and I pull back. He moves forward, kissing me deeper.
Grabbing onto him, I pull his shirt up and he lets me pull it over his head. The warmth from his body covers mine. He presses against me, moving his lower body against mine. I match his move.
With his chest against mine, I feel the thump of his heart matching mine. The beat of mine echoes his.
“Feel me, Tracey,” he whispers.
My eyes close, focusing on our heartbeats—why they match—as I feel his kisses under my ear and his hand traveling to my thigh. He grabs it firmly, moving against me as my lower body lifts to his.
My mind empties, then it fills with me kissing him, my want for him, his arms around me, his comfort, our desires, and us together. Images of us together and moments we seemed to have shared. The matching of our heartbeats, reminding me of our meaning. He pulls back, looking at me again.
I smile, acknowledging what’s going on. “Is this going to lead to something? You, on top of me, shirtless, hands on my thighs.”
He smiles. “It may if you still don’t remember me.”
“Then I still don’t remember,” I say, lifting myself to kiss him, pulling him back down with me. He grabs my hands, lacing our fingers as he deepens the kiss.
“Tracey, don’t forget me again,” he says, pulling back.
“I don’t know what happened.”
“It’s okay. Just don’t do it.” He kisses me sweetly.
“I don’t know. If me forgetting can lead to me feeling you like this, I might want to forget more often.”
He kisses the side of my neck. “You are bad, Tracey.”
“Only for you, Nathan.”
“Thank you,” he says, moving from atop of me. “When you remember what happened, tell me.”
“Yes,” I say softly. “Now go to sleep.”
“You go to sleep.”
17: Veiled
“Babe, I am tired of looking at schools. Can you make us something to eat?”
“Okay, Tracey. But afterwards, we are looking into what you want to major in. Or you can move with your mom and dad. Why did you wait until the last minute anyway?”
“That’s not happening. And I didn’t wait ‘til the last minute. That would be the summer. And I think we should be spending today just being with each other, since I’m not going to see you all day tomorrow.”
“That’s not going to happen, and we are here with each other. Come on.”
We woke up early, a little after my mom had left, washed up and came over to his house so we could look at schools, like he had promised. We’ve been looking at schools ever since.
He is still questioning me about what happened last night, and bits and pieces are starting to come back to me. I just don’t want to talk about it.
Everyone is up and walking around the house today. All of Nathan’s siblings keep stopping by the room, because the door is open. Supposedly, when you are handling business, you leave it open, so you don’t have to interrupt yourself by answering it.
His mom is in the kitchen, already cooking. “Hello, you two. Are you getting anywhere with the college hunt, Tracey?” I like her bubbly personality.
“I don’t know, to be honest.”
“Are you going to stay around or go away?”
“Mother, what are you asking?” Nathan says, walking to the stove.
“Isn’t that how this kind of conversation is supposed to go?”
I laugh. “Leave her alone, Nathan.” I peek at him. He’s not looking. “I don’t know. I might find a school in Tennessee.”
She turns around faster than I expected her to and Nathan looks at me like I’d lost it. She calms before she speaks. “Well, if that’s something you would like to do…”
“She’s not serious, Mom.”
She looks at me for confirmation. “I’m not. I just like to mess with your son.”
She smiles, chuckling. “Oh, okay. You almost scared me for a minute there.” I wouldn’t leave, but why is she affected by it?
“No, ma’am. You are stuck with me for life.”
She smiles. “Let me explain why that affected me so,” she starts. “Once we are found by our mate, or we find our mate, we don’t…” She thinks for a minute. “…stay away from each other. You two are doing very well, I’d say, to be so new to this. We are usually moved in with each other in a matter of days. But I suppose it’s different when you have a family and are still in school. I was, well, past your age when you all’s father became my mate.”
She smiles, remembering, then something shades her smile. She shakes it away. “We expect for you to take your time and to move in when you are ready. But we would feel more than privileged if you did choose to stay with us. I’m sure it would make my son happy as well.”
“I can say that I am considering it, which is why we are looking at schools in the area.”
“Oh! Well that’s good to hear. You know, if you two become bound, you really wouldn’t have a choice.” She softly chuckles. “But Nathan wouldn’t do that. He knows it’s too early for you two to do the things that that entails.”
Nathan drops what he was holding and starts coughing. “Son, are you okay?” She rinses her hands and walks over to him, drying them on her apron. She looks at me. “Tracey, are you okay?”
I feel my face flush. Nathan clears his throat. “Yes, I’m okay. Umm, Mom, Tracey and I are going to go back upstairs and wait for you to finish cooking. Just let me know when it’s ready,” he says, pulling himself together. Picking up some rolls that he had dropped on the floor, he says, “Sorry about the rolls. If you want, I’ll run to the store.”
“No, son, that’s quite alright.”
He walks over to where I’m sitting, grabs my arm, and pulls me out of the kitchen. Making it to the door, he stops—almost froze—if he hadn’t pushed his hand through his hair. I look at him and his brown, hazel eyes are looking up towards the ceiling.
“Now, Nathan,” his mom states from behind us.
Nathan turns us around and she looks upset. What’s going on? “Mom, I’m ninety-three. You cannot be serious.”
“Son, I cannot believe you!” she shouts.
“What makes you even think that happened?” he states innocently.
“Everyone in the universe either wants you by their side or wants you dead.” I can’t believe she just said that. “You are not clumsy, never have been. And the only time you do something like that is when you are caught up in something.” She pushes back a piece of hair that had fallen in front of her face. “Did you!?” She’s stern and demanding.
Nathan looks at me, then to the ceiling, then back to his mother. “Mom!”
She wipes her hands off again. “Nathan, you better start talking, before I blast you into the front yard.”
Nathan pushes me to the side. “Mom, what me and Tracey do is really between Tracey and me. Plus, I’m not a chi—”
A gust of wind blows past me, and Nathan flies into the wall behind us. He doesn’t look hurt, but inconvenienced. I rush over to him. He places his head against the wall.
“Not necessary!” he says, frustrated. “What if you would have hurt Tracey?”
“I wouldn’t have. Now, you need to start talking.” She readies herself. “Nathan!” She speaks with authority.
“Nathan, what’s going on?” I am still oblivious.
“She is losing it,” he says, pulling himself from the wall. “Okay, Mom. Don’t do it.”
“Okay, Nathan.” She straightens. “Is there something you would like to talk about?”
“Can both of you talk to me? Because I think I missed an important part of this conversation. And no disrespect, but I really do not like you throwing my mate into anything or anywhere.” I know he isn’t hurt, but the thought of it makes me cringe. Even though she is his mom, it still doesn’t sit well with me.
“Nathan, you did!” she says in a surprised voice, eyes wide.
“Okay, Mom, so we did. But I was safe and careful and all of that. I was respectful and a gentleman. Tracey means much more to me than all those other girls.” I think I get it now. “And, no, I didn’t take advantage of her. She wanted to too.” Sorry, Tracey. “Mom, don’t do this.” He leaves my side, walking next to her.
Her face shows anger, but she doesn’t push him away.
They don’t say anything out loud for a few minutes. It irritates me that I’m not included in this conversation either.
Forever passes and then she smiles and slaps his shoulder. He hugs her and kisses her cheek.
“Tracey, I am sorry I startled you, but I do not do well with my children keeping secrets from me or trying to cover things up. Now, you two go back upstairs and do nothing but look at schools. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”
“Okay, Mom. Thanks.”
He walks over, throwing his arm around me, shaking his head. We walk back to his room and I close the door behind me. “So are you going to let me know what just happened?”
“She just thinks we bound,” he says nonchalantly.
“You mean knows.”
“No, she thinks. She doesn’t know anything.”
“So, what did you tell her?”
“You want to know the truth?” he asks deviously.
“Yes.”
“You’re not going to think good of me.”
“Mr. BeatAroundTheBush, can you please tell me?”
“I made her forget—only the part that she wanted to beat me over. But she thinks that we got to—what do they say…” He thinks for a second. “Second base.” He walks up to me. “You know, when I take off your shirt and kiss on you.” He kisses my neck and his hand creeps up my side. “And you let me grab your—”