True North

by Allie Juliette Mousseau

  When he was sad, it was easier to deal with. Showing him sympathy was a hell of a lot simpler than handling his fury when he transformed into a raging dragon that had been backed into a corner. He had angry days, but those were usually when the nightmares had terrorized him for days and he barely slept. I learned to just kind of stay out of his way and let him be angry. Anger could be healthy. He usually took a run or worked out on his punching bag. But lately, it was getting worse.

  He slammed the docking station against the wall. “Choose a better fucking song!”

  His appointment was coming up with the EMDR doctor next week. In the meantime, he’d only been doing behavioral therapy, and Jake hated it. He never felt like he could connect with the doctors.

  He wrenched open the bathroom door. “I don’t have a mental illness, and all these medications only make me a fucking zombie! They don’t even help me sleep!”

  He yanked out each of the bottles from the mirrored cabinet, popped the tops off and dumped the contents into the toilet.

  “Jake!”

  “No! No, ‘Jake!’ I’m not taking this crap! I’d rather have a few drinks with no pills and work it out in my own mind.” He turned on me like he dared me to contradict that.

  “Okay,” I said softly.

  “Are you kidding me?” he shouted. “It was your idea!”

  “Yeah! When there was a chance it could help you, but it’s not helping!” I shouted back. “Remember the whole trial and error thing?”

  He sat on the edge of the tub and buried his face in his hands. I knelt in front of him and rubbed his knees gently, wishing desperately that I could take away his pain.

  “I don’t want to be a burden or a basket case.”

  “Good. ‘Cause you’re neither of those things,” I assured him.

  “I’m sorry for yelling at you and being a dick.”

  “No biggie.”

  “I don’t want to go see the doctor anymore. I talk to him about the same stuff I talk to you about. It’s redundant and doesn’t make any sense. Can it just be me and you, please?”

  “It’s always been me and you.”

  He nodded and let go of a deep sigh.

  “One favor?”

  “What?” His voice was rough from lack of sleep and screaming.

  “While we get everything in place for our road trip adventure, you try the EMDR, even if it’s just for a couple weeks. See if it helps you at all.”

  He scooped me into his arms. “You help me.”

  I didn’t change my expression. It was our final option for a little relief and I wasn’t ready to chuck it to the wind.

  “Okay, I’ll do it,” he conceded.

  “Why don’t we go back to bed?” I took his hand and reached for the bottle of sandalwood and sweet almond massage oil. “I’ll treat you to a massage to relax you.”

  “That’s not what massages usually do for me,” he said suggestively.

  “Well, then maybe we’ll get to that too.”

  He lay on the bed … on his back.

  “Roll over.” I rolled my eyes, smiling.

  I poured some of the oil in my palms and warmed it between my hands. Kneading it into his tense shoulders, the relaxing masculine scent filled the room. Twenty minutes into it, I could feel and hear the change in Jake’s breath. He had fallen asleep.

  We’d found an alternative medicine and therapy website and decided to employ some of their ideas: intense physical workouts twice a day—once in the morning and once in the late afternoon, close to evening, yoga twice a week for stress reduction and relaxation, and a tai chi class on the weekends. We had sex as much as possible—because that relieved stress too—I gave him a massage, even a light one, almost every night. After a while he even started giving me one first … of course that usually ended up with us having more sex.

  Jake even tried acupuncture and Reiki, with awesome results.

  “Hey! We could even hang out in Colorado or Washington states for a while,” Jake announced one afternoon.

  “Why?”

  “Legalized marijuana—some vets are seeing good results.”

  “Well, why the hell not?”

  Between the alternative and EMDR therapy, we watched the nightmares reduce in frequency, and even Jake’s paranoia eased. We still shied away from crowds—another problem for another day. We were making progress.

  Chapter 20

  “Born to Be Wild”

  Steppenwolf

  “It’s way too cold to ride the Victory, Jake,” I reminded him, laughing as we were packing our stuff up. He was jokingly trying to tell me we should ride it home instead of taking my car, which he loved … making fun of, that is.

  “Stop bashing my KIA!” I hit him with a pillow.

  “I’m glad we’re together, I really wanted my pillowcase back.” He snatched it out of my hands and hit me back.

  I rolled my eyes. “So when’s the moving truck going to be here?”

  “A couple hours.”

  I lugged my clothes bag into the living room near the door with the rest of the boxes and stuff and set it in the pile we’d be packing in the car to take with us. Since the apartment came furnished we didn’t have a lot, but we had accumulated enough to go into a small storage unit. We’d only be taking our clothes and some bare essentials on the road trip. His Victory would have to ride in a U-Haul trailer pulled by my KIA, which I was going to let Nate sell for me once we left.

  I paused for a moment to gaze over the painting I had done before Jake had come. It was beautiful—full of rage, anguish, longing, hope and faith. Jake had been able to repair the frame and it had hung ever since over the mantle here in our first apartment together.

  “We’re done, baby. I’ve done triple-checks.” He tossed the beloved pillow over on the we’re-taking-that pile.

  It was January fourth. We had rung in the New Year, I settled out of school—for now—and said “see ya” to the friends we’d made in the area.

  One Republic’s “Secrets” came on. Jake came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Show me the pictures and tell me the plan again.”

  I smiled, full of him. “You know the plan.”

  “So what, it psyches me out!”

  He’d been doing so good lately; love, the right therapies and something to look forward to and live for had given him a real semblance of a future.

  I took his hand and led him to the bedroom desk where I had my laptop. I sat down and flipped it open while he stood watching over my shoulder.

  “Okay, first our fucking-awesome-adventure mobile.” I pulled up the picture. We chose a pre-owned Earth Roamer XV LT. It sported 41” MPT—81 military tires, had four-wheel drive, and beefed up, rugged, customized additions that screamed Jake’s name. “And our route: from Williston we go through Montana”—Jake swept my long hair to one shoulder and started kissing my neck—“into Wyoming, and then we’ll land in Colorado to pick … up … the rig.”

  He added his hands to my shoulders and kneaded the muscles.

  “We’ll hit the slopes for a week.” Oh my God!

  Now he’d slipped his fingers over my collarbone and had begun unbuttoning my blouse. Hello, distraction.

  “From there we head out through Utah.”

  He opened my shirt, and his right hand slipped underneath the fabric of my pink lace bra. “Um … and Nevada …”

  “Where we’ll spend a weekend in Sin City now that I have Lady Luck on my side.” He spoke this directly into my ear with a deep, low, vibrating tone that changed the rhythm of my breath.

  “And down the California border to Death Valley National Park,” I said.

  His hand crossed its own border; the waistband of my black yoga pants. He tugged my shirt down, baring my shoulder, and dipped a finger into my panties. He was a pyro technician, a highly trained expert in the art of igniting me with his every touch.

  “Come summer …”

  “Did you say, ‘come?’” he growled.
r />   I arched back and opened my legs. Jake slid his finger deep inside of my most intimate place, sending me reeling.

  I reached my hands back and let my own fingers stroke his neck and jaw. He was working my nipple; pulling and pinching at it.

  Fuck! I couldn’t think straight. I started to move to get out of the chair, but he pressed me down, forcing me to stay where I was.

  “You’re not finished explaining the plan,” he insisted gruffly.

  OH! Now he was working his finger in and out of me in a delicious cadence.

  “We’ll learn to surf in … southern Cal then … ride up the coast to Half Moon Bay.” I gripped his arm and sighed against it. “Oh, Jake.”

  He used the heel of his hand to rub at my clit, causing it to pulse with exquisite agony.

  “Then what, baby?” he purred.

  “We’ll get stoned in Washington.” I sounded like I was out of breath.

  “You skipped over some …”

  “I need you now!” I pleaded.

  “How bad?” he teased.

  “You know how badly! You can feel it.”

  “Oh yes, you are so very wet.”

  I moaned.

  “You’re so hot when you come. But I need to hear you say it, Olivia.”

  At the sound of my name on his lips I let out, “We could throw a dart at a map and go anywhere we want. No rules.” He liked that part.

  Jake sunk his teeth into my shoulder with a gentle roughness while he continued to stroke my aroused flesh with the perfect amount of pressure and tension. My amazing pyro held me for a moment at the edge before the fireworks erupted and shot through every nerve with vital force.

  I cried out, squeezing my fingers into the muscles of his arm which was hard and tense in his sweet exertion.

  “Now! I want you now!” I demanded.

  “Yeah you do.” He was wearing that cocky smile that was so gorgeous and made me weak at the knees.

  I pulled his arm away, stood up and pushed him into the chair.

  He asked, “What’s your plan, sexy?”

  I wasn’t completely sure, I had never tried this one before, but I had an idea I was going to follow through on.

  I was standing in front of him in my black yoga pants and lacey baby pink bra. I gave him a little show as I peeled off each article of clothing. I had wanted to do it slower and more teasing-like, but who was I kidding? I was desperate to sink him inside of my aching center.

  I unbuttoned his jeans, the bulge of his erection made it difficult to unzip them, but I got it. Pulling them down and off of him along with his briefs, I released him.

  I climbed on top of him.

  “Oh, God, Livie! Do it!” He snatched one of my nipples in between his teeth then sucked it between his lips.

  I lowered myself onto his hard shaft; until I was fully open and he was sunk so deep inside of me I lost all semblance of rational thought.

  “Oh, fuck, you’re perfect!” he mumbled over my breast as he continued sucking and licking over its now very hard tip. He grabbed the flesh of my hips in both of his big, strong hands and worked me back and forth over him, grinding his heat into my throbbing core.

  We both moaned, and he let go of my tit to watch my body gliding on top of his. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Livie! Come for me again. I want to see it in your eyes.” With his demand he controlled my hips as he thrust into me with long, deep and hard strokes. He pushed in and drew away tortuously slowly, held it, and then shot up full-force back into my center till I cried out.

  My orgasm took my body over with pounding release. I started to tilt my head and close my eyes on autopilot when Jake said, “Keep your eyes on me, princess, I want to watch.”

  I was gone, lost in his sex hazed eyes. He roared fiercely. His skin thrilled with goose bumps, and every muscle in his body pulled taut. He rode out his climax, pulsing inside of me.

  “There is no other feeling in the world like burying myself in you,” he said, breathless.

  A knock at the door made us both jump a little in surprise. “Three Men and a Moving Truck,” the guest announced.

  Jake and I laughed at our perfect timing. “I’ll handle it, gorgeous.”

  I kissed him on the scruff of his cheek and darted to the bathroom to get dressed.

  “OH MY GOD! I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU TWO!” Jules came running out of the North mansion and fell into us with a hug. “I’ve missed you both! Mom and Dad catered out a huge spread for your little bon voyage. We even got your favorites, Jake, Maryland crab cakes and Maine lobster.”

  We started walking towards the house. “Have you heard from Nate or my Dad?” Usually Nate answered his phone—at least he always texted me back.

  “Nate was acting weird all morning. He bailed on Caleb around two o’clock, saying he had to take care of something and nobody’s heard from him since.”

  Probably girl trouble, I thought to myself. A New Year’s date gone wrong.

  “Holy Shit! Little brother you look like hell!” Josh came out the door, down the steps and wrapped Jake in a bear hug. “I think this is one hell of a plan you got going here.”

  “It was all her idea.” Jake threw a thumb at me.

  “Little sister!” Now I was being hauled up in Josh’s beefy fireman’s arms. “I knew the day would come that you two would finally find your way to each other.” He grabbed my left hand. “Where the hell’s the ring, Jake?”

  I choked and snatched back my hand.

  “Wow, Josh, don’t hold any punches,” Jake deadpanned.

  “I’m an MMA fighter, why would I?”

  “I have an endgame, you d-bag!” Jake threw a fist into Josh’s arm.

  “Well get on with it then.”

  The two started wrestling and Jules and I went into the house.

  “Olivia!” Suzanne put her arms around me in a motherly hug. “It’s so good to see you. You look beautiful!”

  “Thank you.” Suzanne was petite, strong and beautiful, with long blonde hair to her waist. She was wearing denim jeans, an embroidered button up blouse and cowboy boots.

  “So school’s all finished up?” she asked as she set elegant long stemmed wine glasses on her white marble countertop. I sat at the pretty, polished cherry wood kitchen table. I had just about grown up in this house. I loved Suzanne’s cast iron stove with rustic looks, but modern amenities. Cast iron Lodge pans dangled from hooks over it.

  I could see through the doorway that a lavish spread had been put out in the formal dining room, and it made me feel very special knowing it was for me and Jake.

  “Yes. I got A’s in both classes. I can’t believe how many thesis papers I had to write for English 101. I’m not sorry it’s over,” I admitted.

  “Livie!” Jules cried out in offense, her mouth full of food she’d sneaked from the table.

  “I know, English is your life,” I said dramatically. “But I’m really excited to see the art around the country—in Utah they have ancient Native American art that dates back thousands of years, and then the graffiti in southern California and local artisans and galleries. It’s going to be an awesome experience.”

  “You’re the best thing that ever happened to Jake, Livie. You saved his life.” Jake’s mom planted a kiss on my cheek, and I melted into it. I couldn’t remember having been touched or kissed by a mother figure since it had been so long since I’d seen my own mom. It was too bittersweet, and I had to push the sensation out of my head.

  “Well,” she continued, “I think, when you’re both satisfied with the States, that you should travel Europe—to further your art education, of course.” She winked at me. “Seriously, though, I’m certainly not scoffing at a university education—on the contrary, I believe you should earn your degree—but you’re both young, and I think a hands-on opportunity like travel is much more enriching than a classroom and textbook.”

  I loved Suzanne. She was opinionated and told it like she saw it. She was nice, but commanded respect. I’d always a
dmired her. And the fact that she approved of me meant a lot to me.

  “The gang’s all here, let the party begin.” Caleb came in, more jovial than usual, with his dad, Jake and Josh close behind.

  “Colt, did you pick up the wine?” Suzanne asked her husband.

  He came around the counter and kissed her softly on the lips with just the slightest linger. I had to smile. They’d been together since they were in high school. I hoped with all of my heart that the love between Jake and I would stay that strong.

  Colt turned to me. “Ms. Morrisey, it’s a pleasure as usual.” He popped the top of the bottle.

  “Hi, Colt,” I said. I felt Jake’s hands fall on my shoulders from behind me.

  “I think you might as well start calling me dad, don’t you?” he said, and everybody started laughing.

  I felt my face burn red.

  “Colt North, now you’ve embarrassed her!” Suzanne scolded as she filled each glass.

  “It’s okay, ma’am, I’m used to the North boys,” I replied.

  Colt gave a good-natured chuckle.

  After a moment, Caleb came into the kitchen wiping his hands on a towel. “I’m starvin’ and it smells great!”

  “Everyone come and get a glass. We have a toast to make,” Suzanne announced.

  We all stood with our glasses raised.

  Colt said, “To our beloved son and our wonderful new daughter, may you find the happiness that feels like home in one another and learn to treasure it.”

  We all followed with a chorus of, “Here, here.” I savored the wine as I savored the moment, etching it in my memory to keep.

  We all gathered around the dining room table and sat. Jake sat next to me and Suzanne and Colt each sat at one end of the table. The dining room was elegant and rustic. A wrought iron chandelier hung from the ceiling over an extended, dark wood table surrounded by red fabric chairs. A huge flagstone fireplace displayed a crackling fire and Suzanne had lit candles about the table. Two servers were there to make sure all of our needs were met.