Always Summer

by Criss Copp

  “I don’t love you Jordan... I don’t want to be with you!” I say emphatically.

  He looks me in the eyes and smiles, “You will... I’ll help you forget him.” He says, moving onto my left wrist.

  “By raping me?” I ask indignantly.

  Jordan jerks back, but remains holding my left wrist.

  “I have no intention of raping you.” He categorically states.

  “What is all that then?” I ask, jerking my head toward the bed in reference to the touching and kissing.

  He looks incredulously at me, before saying, “Your definition of rape is very different to mine... my cock hasn’t touched any part of you! And my hands haven’t gone anywhere near your vagina, or your boobs for that matter.” He reasons.

  It is true, but I think he is merely leading up to wanting more. His touching is intimate in its intention... he knows that it is.

  “You want to though!” I accuse him.

  “Of course! But until you’re no longer pregnant with his kids, I won’t!” he counters.

  I begin to cry at that moment... the thought of giving birth to my boys, and then having to live with him in these confines, chained to the bed and trying to look after my babies... it’s so impossibly fucked up, I can’t believe he can contemplate that there is anything correct about his scenarios.

  “Summer... I really, really do love you. You used to love me... you will love me again, and you’ll want me to make love to you then.” He reasons.

  I just cry harder.

  Jordan is hugging me, and then he jumps back and giggles. I look at him like he’s more than disturbed; he’s fucking out of his skull MAD!

  He’s still smiling, rubbing my belly. He’s never touched my belly before, sticking to my back. My breasts, belly and pussy have all been no go zones before. Now he’s got both hands firmly plastered on my stomach.

  “Little bastard kicked me.” He laughs.

  ‘That’s because he wants to bash your head in for his Dad!’ I think.

  Jordan’s face is the picture of wonder... just fucking great... he’s getting over his aversion to Blake’s offspring! I’m left wondering how long it will be till he deludes himself into thinking that they’re in fact his kids.

  “Come on guys... let’s get Mom into the shower.” He tells my belly. Fucking amazing! The answer to my previous query is two seconds... it took him two bloody seconds to go from aversion to ownership of the boys.

  Chapter 25

  Blake.

  Surely this couldn’t go on. We had all... every one of us; lost the fight... we were walking zombies!

  My entire family were in so much distress that we couldn’t work... or clean clothes, or do the shopping, or even shower often enough.

  Two fucking weeks...

  My wife... my beautiful Summer!

  My boys... Felix Sal and Kane Blake Austen!

  I cry all the time. I’m surprised I haven’t lost more condition! Except, when I’m not crying... I’m bashing the hell out of the punching bag downstairs. It was originally set up for me as an adolescent, when I couldn’t deal with the residual emotions of sexual abuse. Now I use it to help me refrain from killing the only people that I have left to love.

  Come home Summer... I love you... I miss you... I’m dying without you!

  Summer.

  I’m now two days shy of being 39 weeks pregnant. I miss Blake so much my body is almost always in some form of a catatonic state. Jordan takes this as compliance and a willingness to be with him.

  His kisses have escalated...

  He likes to allow his fingers to softly wander under the shirts that I wear at night, his shirts... over my shoulders, down my bare back, back around and over my belly, skirting across the top of the elastic in my panties, and then back to trace over the curves of my butt, and then down my legs...

  I should hate him...

  I should want to destroy him...

  But apart from the disgust that I feel when he touches me in his intimate ways, I just feel so fucking sorry for him! He is monumentally fucked up! I know he thinks we can be together forever... raise these boys together like they were his... become a family!

  I’ll never belong to him.

  I dream of Blake... I dream of him loving me, and I cry when I wake after those dreams.

  Right now, I feel the need to go to the toilet. This happens every night.

  “Jordan?” I call out.

  Groggily he replies from behind me, where he is sleeping curled up to my back, “toilet?”

  “Yes.” I reply. WTF... what else would I possibly be asking for anyway?

  He hops off his side of the bed... grabs the key and comes around my side to unlock the cuffs. I inhale sharply as deep-set pain radiates from my lower back, and across my stomach.

  “Arr...” I verbalize.

  “Summer?” Jordan asks.

  “Get these things off me... I think my bladder’s about to explode!” I shout, but I know what’s happening... and I’m scared, really scared!

  Jordan fumbles a little, before undoing the cuffs and lifting me up; carrying me quickly to the bathroom. As we turn to enter the bathroom, a gush of water flushes from between my legs, followed by another.

  “Fuck!” Jordan shouts. He’s not stupid. Psychologically fucked up... yes! But not stupid!

  “You’re going into labor!” he tells me.

  “No Fuck!” I say sarcastically...

  *

  Four hours into this nightmare and I’m in waves of pain... less than five minutes apart.

  I scream as the next wave overwhelms me... I feel like the boys have taken chainsaws and begun to carve their way out of me in a reverse caesarean section.

  The bliss between each contraction though is intensely beautiful... I use this time to zone out.

  At the beginning of this, Jordan was all good. Now he can’t stand to see me in pain. He is wandering aimlessly after each contraction... his hands are in his hair at the back of his head.

  Another contraction is building... my cries are accompanied by tears of complete fear and desperation... “Please Jordan... please... Please... PLEASE... PLEASE!!!”

  I asked him earlier to take me to a hospital... now I just say please.

  Twenty minutes more, and Jordan is crying...

  “I’m so sorry Summer... I’m so stupid... but I love you so damned much!” he says, putting his forehead on mine and looking deeply into my eyes.

  I can tell that he is sorry... that his insides are all churned up... that he needs help!

  “Please Jordan... phone for help.” I plead as the wave ends. “I promise I’ll be so grateful... forever! I understand you’ll get into trouble, but if you really do love me... you’ll let me go to the hospital and get help... you’ll let me go!” I reason.

  He reaches his face forward, and kisses me... as passionately as one can when the recipient refuses to return the kiss.

  Another wave is building. He is pulling away and I can see the tears in his eyes.

  “You were meant to be with me... I loved you first... I love you the most and I’ll never get over you!” he sobs.

  I am not going to tell him how wrong he is... it’s not the time.

  The pain is beginning to take my breath away; he mumbles something and kisses my mouth again... I recognize it as a kiss of goodbye.

  I ride the next wave as he fumbles to unlock his phone and dial a number.

  “Paramedics and Police...” he looks at me with such pain in his eyes that I hope he will get the right help... I don’t hate him... I hope they won’t hurt him.

  “It’s extremely urgent!” he begins... his voice catching. “I need to turn myself in for the kidnapping of Summer Rog... um... Austen...Summer Austen.” He sighs, slumping down next to me. I place my hand on his shoulder and squeeze, despite my enduring pain, I want to encourage him to go through with it and get me home.

  I am on the couch, on my left side, and he is slumped on the floor immediately in f
ront of me. His back is to me... He’s shaking... his dreams are shattering, and he’s about to face the music!

  “Thank you.” I say as bliss returns fleetingly.

  He’s giving his number and address to the operator. The operator must be asking him if he has any weapons in the apartment.

  “No, no weapons, just us.” He says in defeat.

  He rushes down the stairs to unlock his apartment door for the police and paramedics, just moments before another wave of pain overtakes my body.

  I begin to pant and scream. He’s back in front of me, leaning over me and soothing my forehead.

  “No, she’s screaming because she’s in labor... please hurry!” I hear him say, before my screaming gets too loud.

  Chapter 26

  Blake.

  “BLAKE... BLAKE!!!” My Mom burst through the door.

  I was drowsy from an intense anger-fest the previous evening... it had lasted until well into the morning.

  “What!” I moaned... and then I realised... Mom was shouting at me in an excited and intense way... What. The. Fuck!

  I sat up suddenly, almost colliding with her as she jumped onto my bed.

  “Where is she!” I shouted.

  “North Shore!” she replied... tears streaming down her face.

  Julie was already pulling clothes out of my drawers and throwing them at me.

  “Get dressed... I’ll get my car out!” she demanded.

  I threw whatever the fuck Julie had thrown my way onto my body. Julie slept in modest pajamas, since she had started sleeping in my room to keep an eye on me, so she was covered... but I didn’t suppose boxers were a good way to storm a hospital.

  I ran down the stairs and out the front door. Julie pulled the car up to me. Mom was behind me shoving my electric razor into my hands.

  “I should drive!” I shouted through the closed window.

  “GET IN THE FUCKING CAR BLAKE!” Julie screamed at me.

  I wasn’t about to argue with her now... she had that no nonsense look about her.

  *

  Julie was a fucking psycho driver! A forty minute drive in twenty-five minutes! I was grateful... If she had’ve tried to go slower, I would’ve lost it! Despite this, I thought I’d nearly cut myself with my electric razor she was driving so fucking crazy! And I was shocked that there were no cops around.

  The moment she drove up to the entrance area, I jumped out and didn’t even bother to check her leave to drive off to go park the car.

  The adrenalin that had fuelled my body in the car into fits of uncontrollable shaking now realised its potential. I could’ve won a medal in the Olympics for my sprint through the corridors of the hospital.

  The maternity ward had police and nursing staff talking at the desk. It was true then. She was here! I rushed desperately to the nurses’ station.

  One of the nurses behind the desk turned to me.

  “Can I help you?” she asked... she looked wary... I probably looked like a freak in my wrinkled mismatched clothes, unkempt hair and no shoes.

  “Summer... my wife, she’s here.” I frantically explained.

  She looked at me like I was a loon.

  A police officer stepped up, “ID, son.” He asked.

  “I didn’t think to grab it!” I said. “I ran out the fucking door the moment I found out!” I reasoned.

  “Then you’ll just have to wait here!” he replied. He went to turn away and talk into his radio.

  “NO FUCKING WAY!” I screamed, and grabbed his arm. “I WANT TO SEE MY WIFE!”

  The police officer snapped back and pulled out a taser gun... pointing it at my chest.

  “You’ll do as I say, or you’ll be tasered Sir!” he threatened.

  He gave me that look that told me he didn’t give a fuck what I said, or who I thought I was... he’d drop me the moment I made any move.

  I was just about to force myself through him and risk a flogging... or a tasering... when one of the detectives handling Summer’s case came around the corner. I couldn’t remember his name... I was too focused on getting through to see my wife.

  “What’s going on here?” he said... “Who’s shouting?” he demanded. Then his eyes met mine and he recognised me.

  “Jesus, son... you look like shit!” he stated. “Stand down Tony... this is the husband.”

  The officer still didn’t look convinced.

  “You look like a homeless person!” the detective explained to me.

  “I am,” I croaked. “Where’s my wife...? She’s my home!” I cried.

  Clasping me by my right shoulder, he led me to a suite where I could hear a woman’s screams and the cries of a baby.

  *

  Felix had already arrived, and he was being checked out by the medical staff.

  I looked over at my beautiful Summer, in so much obvious pain... tears fell from my eyes... she was attempting to crawl up off the bed, screaming... she had obviously not had that epidural or any pain medication for that matter... but she was alive... my boys were alive. She saw me being pulled closer to the bed by a nurse.

  “Blake!” she screamed. “Blake!” she repeated, holding her arm out.

  “We need you to focus Summer... Just one more push, and he’ll be out!” the female doctor between her legs said.

  Summer was ignoring the woman... her face was the picture of pain... she was sobbing... I rushed the few feet left between us.

  I was in tears too. I dropped my torso to her, grabbed her face and kissed her fiercely. She had an IV in her hand, and it was caught around me. I went to dislodge it, but she held me against her.

  “Don’t go!” she frantically pleaded in the high pitched voice of desperation.

  I choked... “I’m not going anywhere.” I forced out of my dry throat, past the huge ball lodged there.

  “Summer, work with me here... let’s get this baby out on the next contraction, and then we can put your family back together.” The doctor said sternly, yet somehow kindly.

  I got to witness Kane being born... while I held my wife’s hand for the first time in weeks.

  Epilogue

  Summer.

  “Felix!” I snapped at my precocious six-year-old. He had painted a huge monster on his bedroom wall with Blake’s oil paints.

  He had then proceeded to run down the hall shouting abuse at his brother, Kane, for ‘dobbing.’

  Felix was the complete picture of a younger Blake... apart from his eyes, which were like mine. In addition to this, just like his Daddy, he loved to paint! One could only hope he would get better!

  Funnily enough, Kane was almost another Blake lookalike... There was no doubting the paternal parentage of those two boys! However... he had Julie’s hair, and again, he had my eyes. The boys looked very much like each other... there would be no confusion that they were siblings!

  Kane’s strength leant towards the musical persuasion... he’d wanted to learn the guitar from the age of four.

  I had let him start at aged five. He was already exceptional at the instrument... ‘Gifted’, his music teacher had praised.

  I rounded the fourth and last door of the hallway and made my way to the art studio.

  “Blake!” I called out... walking in to the studio.

  I paced around some of the paintings but I couldn’t see him.

  “Blake!” I called out again.

  I felt the warm heat of his breath at the back of my neck... it sent ripples of desire through my body.

  “You called!” Blake said, nuzzling my neck behind my ear.

  “Your son painted his wall again.” I said, turning around to confront my husband face to face.

  “My son?!” he clarified with a chuckle.

  “Yes, your son!” I confirmed, poking him in the chest.

  “Let’s leave it there.” He said, shrugging and pulling my hips forward to crash into him; before leaning in to kiss my throat.

  “Why?” I asked, attempting to calm the sensations he was causing me to exper
ience.

  Blake looked up, pulling me towards him even tighter... into his growing erection... oh dear! He smirked at me,

  “He just keeps painting things there anyway, it’ll just be something else next time if we remove it... so, let’s just leave it! He’ll get sick of it soon enough, and that way, maybe he’ll learn his lesson!” Blake reasoned.

  “It’s on your head then Mr. Austen!” I argued.

  “It always is when those two do something wrong!” he chuckled, leaning back down to flutter kisses across my jawbone and towards my ear.

  “As it should be!” I laughed disjointedly... he was affecting me.

  He’d stepped to one side and dropped his hand so that it could pull the front of my skirt up and access the front of my panties.

  “Blake!” I scowled and hit his hand away. “The boys could run in and see you!”

  He gave me a cheeky grin.

  “When do Nan and Pop come to get them?” Blake asked. Smoothing my skirt down, but paying particular attention to my mound.

  I looked up at the clock on his wall, “Shit! Now!” I said, and pushed out of his arms before running out of the room.

  Mom and Dad were already in the living room, I could hear them asking the boys to grab their bags.

  I went straight to them and gave them kisses.

  “Sorry, I was out the back with Blake.” I said breathlessly.

  Mom smiled and gave me a knowing look. It was obscene the amount of attention my husband gave me in public. Everyone wouldn’t hesitate to guess that he was very sexual in private.

  Mom and Dad had easily forgiven Blake after my return from being kidnapped... they could understand... so, life eventually went on like Blake hadn’t even hurt anyone’s feelings.

  “Debbie! Max!” Blake hollered from behind me.

  Mom went in for a hug from him, and Dad a healthy handshake!

  I walked back to the boy’s bedroom, and grabbed their bags.

  It was a tradition since the boys were 3-years-old, to have them spend two weeks during the Summer break with my parents, their Nan and Pop... and another two weeks with Blake’s parents, their Grandma and Grandpa. On the middle weekend, Blake and I would go to see the boys and our families.