by J. A. Owenby
I began to turn to face him, but he stopped me.
“No, stay where you’re at while I tell you. I’ve never told anyone this before.”
I stayed still and waited for him to continue.
“I wasn’t honest with you. I don’t ever talk to my parents, and I’ve lived with my grandma since I was fifteen. My parents sent me away.”
“What? Why?” My heart ached at the thought of his parents not wanting him. I understood too well, and maybe it was even worse than what I’d gone through.
“I had a brother, Chad. He was a few years older than me, but he’d always been sick. He wasn’t a strong kid, and he wasn’t in sports or anything. Most of the kids made fun of him . . . and then there was the accident.”
My brow furrowed. I was grateful I wasn’t facing him, and that the darkness masked my expression.
“Our house caught on fire and even though we all got out, Chad suffered horrible burns all over his body. After that, everything we did was for him. We left Minnesota, where I’d spent my entire life, and moved to Texas so he could be treated by the best burn doctors in the country.
“My parents stopped spending time with me, they missed my sports events in school, and even if they had planned to go, something with Chad always came up. Although he did get better, he was never really normal again, not mentally or physically. One day we asked Mom and Dad if we could go down to the swimming hole, and even though I was younger than him, they made me promise I’d take care of him. A big part of me was so sick and tired of everything about Chad. I hated him.
“Anyway, we went down to the swimming hole, and the current was stronger than normal. I didn’t realize it until we were already in the water. Chad lost his balance and slipped off a rock. I reached him quickly, but then something inside me snapped. Here was a kid who was in constant mental and physical pain. He had no friends, and no life to speak of. And in that split second, I let go of him, held his head down, and watched him struggle to make it to the surface. I crawled out of the swimming hole, sat on the rock, dried off, and watched his limp body float to the top of the water.”
My eyes widened as his words soaked in. My God, what was he saying?
“How old were you?” My voice cracked.
“I was eleven.”
“Baby, you couldn’t have really understood what was happening. I’m sure you were just in shock. You never meant to hurt him.”
“I didn’t, I mean, I was angry and wanted to scare him, but it went too far. But afterward, I wasn’t really sad. It just was what it was. I thought I would have some guilt, but I didn’t.”
His arm tightened around me as he kissed my neck.
“I’ve never told anyone about it before, and the reason I chose you is that I love you. I love you so much that the mere thought of you lying to me or leaving me makes me crazy. I know you skipped your health class today and spent time with George.”
My breath caught in my throat and a chill shot down my spine.
“So, I’m going to make this very clear. You’re mine, and I tell you what you can and can’t do. Don’t you ever lie to me again. Ever.”
He paused as he ran his finger down the side of my face and settled on my left breast.
“And if you ever leave me, I’ll hunt you down and you’ll join my brother. Do you understand?”
I scrambled for the right words. My boyfriend had just admitted to murdering his own brother and having no feelings about it. Would he really do the same to me?
“Just do what I ask and everything will be great, just like tonight—good food and good sex. Okay?”
I nodded as my heart pounded. I knew he could feel my fear as he squeezed my breast.
“Get some sleep, and remember, I love you.” He kissed my cheek, laid his head on the pillow, and didn’t let me go for the rest of the night.
I didn’t sleep at all.
* * *
Faint light peeked through the curtain as I glanced at the clock that now blared 6:22 a.m. I hadn’t slept all night, and Xander hadn’t let go of me until now. I tried to sleep, but his words haunted me. I quietly slipped out of bed and out of the bedroom. I gasped for air as I stood on the other side of the door.
Even though I was exhausted, my mind was going a hundred miles an hour. I crept downstairs and made coffee. I stared blankly at it as the coffee dripped into the pot.
What was I going to do? Had he been serious about his brother? How did he know I’d been with George? Was he following me? Would he really hurt me?
I pulled up a chair at the kitchen table and sipped my coffee. I winced as it burned my tongue. I closed my eyes and rewound last night’s conversation once again. No matter how many times it played through my mind, I came to the same conclusion. Xander had been the only one to protect me from Mama. Yes, he was moody, but the times he’d gotten really angry, I’d pushed him.
Confusion clouded my mind as I sifted through his words. I could understand him not wanting me to lie to him, and I wouldn’t again. I’d just explain to him that I needed to see my friends more often. I was so alone and isolated out here. I knew he didn’t have a problem with George; it was that I’d lied. I wouldn’t be happy if Xander had lied to me, either. Apparently it was a hot button for him, but I could fix that.
As for Chad, Xander had admitted that it went too far, and that he didn’t mean to hurt him. I bit my lip and imagined what it would be like to hate your brother. My heart stuttered at the thought of eleven-year-old Xander feeling so scared and confused that he thought he’d killed him. The pain of losing Chad and his parents must have overwhelmed him. He must not remember it correctly. How could he? He was so young when it happened.
Why would he go to such a great extent to protect me from Mama, move me in with him, tell me he loves me, and then hurt me? It didn’t add up.
Relief flowed through me as things fell into place. It was his first time sharing a confusing and scary moment with someone, and he was mad that I hadn’t told him about George. We all say things we don’t mean. I had certainly said things I didn’t mean in the heat of the moment.
I took a deep breath and rubbed my aching neck.
* * *
“Good morning,” I said as I set coffee and a plate of eggs and bacon on the kitchen table for Xander.
“Wow, this looks great,” he said and kissed my cheek. “You generally don’t cook breakfast on days we have class.”
“I know, but I wanted to talk to you for a minute before we left,” I smiled as I sat down at the kitchen table with him. I squeezed my hands together under the table in an attempt to hide my frazzled nerves.
“What about?” he asked between bites of bacon.
“Well, I’ve been thinking about what you said last night,” I said and glanced at him, trying to gauge his reaction. “My heart hurts for you. You were only eleven, and I know you didn’t really mean to hurt Chad. I know you’d never hurt me, either. In fact, you’ve done the opposite. You’ve protected me. So, I just wanted to say that I know it might feel like you hurt him on purpose, but you were a scared and confused kid. I’m so sorry your parents sent you away, Xander. I love you. I won’t leave you like your parents did. And I won’t lie to you again. I’m so sorry. I miss my friends, and . . . it won’t happen again.”
Xander put his fork down and leaned back into his chair. His eyes traveled over my face, and I returned his gaze.
“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
“You don’t have to think about it,” I said as I stood up from my chair and walked over to him.
Xander reached for me, pulled me into his lap, and wrapped his arms around me. Relief washed over me as my fear and the misunderstanding dissipated.
“I love you,” I whispered. “We’ll figure everything out, but I don’t want you to worry.”
Xander nodded and then brushed his lips against mine.
Chapter 27
Spring wasn’t much different than winter in Eugene. The temper
ature was only a few degrees warmer, and the rain kept coming. I was sure Noah had built his ark here.
The doorbell startled me out of my studies. I frowned, closed my book, and hopped down the stairs. I had no clue who it was. Unless we were having a party, we rarely had anyone over. Xander always went out, but he at least called or came home at a reasonable hour these days. I’d learned to enjoy the time when he was gone.
I opened the door to two men standing on the porch. Both could’ve passed for thirty-five or so, but one was short and stocky while the other easily cleared six foot two. I didn’t recognize them.
“Hi, can I help you?” I asked.
The taller one shifted a bit. His broad shoulders were almost as intimidating as his height.
“Yeah, we’re looking for Xander. Is he home?” he asked as his eyes roamed over my body.
I bit my lip and debated what to tell them. If they knew he’d gone to the grocery store, would they want to come in and wait? I didn’t want them to know I was alone, either. My stomach clenched as I tried to decide what to say.
“I’m sorry, he’s in the shower,” I said. “Can I let him know who stopped by?”
The taller guy shifted again and the glimmer of metal caught my eye. Who were they? And why in the hell was he carrying a gun?
“If you would be so kind as to let him know that Agnus said hello.”
“Agnus?” I asked. “Your name is Agnus?” I tried to stifle my giggle. Who in their right mind would name their son Agnus?
Agnus took two steps toward me and sneered.
“And who are you?” he asked. The smell of alcohol tickled my nose as he spoke.
“I’m his girlfriend,” I said as I grabbed the door tighter and tried to hide the tremble in my legs.
“Mmhmm. Well, you tell your boyfriend he needs to take care of his business or we’ll be back, and next time, I’m going to invite myself in.”
He chuckled as he backed away. The two men turned around and walked back toward their black Mustang. I shut the door and locked the deadbolt as soon as they were off the porch. Then I leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor. What was wrong? Who were they and what did they want?
I made my way to the kitchen and grabbed the almost-empty rum bottle. Xander would be home soon with more, so I filled my glass and downed it straight. My eyes teared up as it burned my throat.
“I’m home!” Xander yelled. The door shut behind him.
“Lock the door,” I said as I ran out of the kitchen and turned the deadbolt.
“What the hell?” he asked while he made his way to the kitchen. I followed behind him and grabbed the new rum bottle. I poured another shot and drank it.
“Shit!” I said and put the glass down.
Xander stared at me as surprise flashed across his face.
“Did you see your mom?” he asked as he unpacked the rest of the grocery bag.
“No,” I said and helped him put the items in the cabinet. “No, two men showed up here for you. They told me to tell you that ‘Agnus said hello.’”
“Fuck!” Xander said as the jar of mayonnaise slipped from his hand and shattered on the kitchen floor.
“What else?” Xander asked, frozen in place.
I glanced at the broken glass and spattered mayonnaise, and then looked at Xander. His eyes widened as he stared at me.
“Say something, dammit!”
“Oh—no, they didn’t say anything else,” I muttered as I grabbed the mop and bucket from the storage closet. “Who are they? One of them had a gun, Xander. A fucking gun, and not a rifle to bring home dinner for the family.”
My voice gained an octave as I continued. “Why were they here and what did they want? I know one thing they wanted, and that was me, so please tell me what’s going on.”
Xander walked toward me, the glass crunching beneath his shoes as he approached.
“Don’t ever open the door for them again,” he whispered. “Don’t open the door, don’t ask me any fucking questions, and clean this shit up.”
Tears threatened my eyes as he walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
I sighed as I looked at the mess and began cleaning it up.
* * *
Xander didn’t reappear until that evening. Since we had missed classes, I studied downstairs in the living room and left him alone.
“Your dinner is on the stove,” I said as he came into the living room.
“Thanks, but I’m going out.”
“You are?” I asked. I couldn’t hide my surprise after earlier today.
“Yeah, and I’ll be out late, so don’t wait up. And don’t open the door for anyone, either,” he mumbled.
I stared at him as he walked down the hall and out the front door. I glanced at the clock: 7:18 p.m. My stomach flipped as I felt a nudge that I wouldn’t see him until tomorrow. I hated it when he went out all night.
I wanted to call George, but he didn’t have a phone. I nestled into the love seat and turned on the TV, but nothing was really on. My mind replayed the scene with the two men at the door. I knew it wasn’t good news the moment I saw them, but why wouldn’t Xander tell me who they were? Was he in some kind of trouble? And if he was, did that mean I was as well?
“What a fucked day,” I muttered as I made a large rum and Pepsi and drank until I passed out on the couch.
Chapter 28
“Wake up, dammit! Where the fuck is my food?”
I swallowed and tried to clear the sleep from my eyes.
“Xander?” I asked as I sat up on the couch.
“You didn’t cook?”
“No, I thought you’d be out all night.”
“What the fuck? Don’t think. Just do what the hell you’re supposed to do.”
I sat up on the couch and glared at him. My stomach lurched. He was high again, and there was no way either of us could deny it this time. He looked like shit.
“Sit down and I’ll make you something to eat. I’m sorry,” I said as I hurried out of the living room and into the kitchen. I’d hoped he wouldn’t follow me, but I wasn’t so lucky.
“Well, what did you do all night?” he asked.
I stiffened at the tone of his voice. Fear and anger warred inside me. What did he think I’d done all night? I drank myself into oblivion while I sat stuck in the house with no friends and no boyfriend.
I tried to dodge the question. “I’m sorry, I’m making you something right now. In fact, it will taste better because it hasn’t sat in the refrigerator all night.” I grabbed a pan and some eggs.
“I asked you a question. What you did all night?”
I cracked the eggs into the hot pan and tossed the eggshells into the garbage.
“I had a drink and then fell asleep. How about you? That cocaine treating you well?” I asked. I couldn’t hide the irritation in my voice. He’d been out all night with his friends while I sat at home, and he still expected me to cook. What the hell?
The hot pan and eggs flew by my head as they crashed into the kitchen wall. Pain shot through me as he slammed me into the wall beside it.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I said, unable to control the tremble in my voice.
“What did I tell you about asking questions? It’s none of your fucking business what I do,” he said as he leaned into me.
“Okay. You’re right, baby. I—I just get worried when you’re like this. You’re scaring me.”
Xander paused for a moment and leaned back a bit, allowing for a small amount of space between us. I tentatively placed my hand on his chest, but he grabbed my hand, twisted it, and squeezed.
“You’re hurting me,” I gasped as the pain shot through my hand and wrist. “Please, stop. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
Xander sneered as he tossed my hand away from him and walked out of the kitchen and into the living room.
I pulled out the kitchen chair and slipped into it before I collapsed. I glanced at the wall and grabbed the kitchen towel to clean up
the eggs before he came back. My legs shook so badly I couldn’t stand up, so I slid from the chair and crawled over to the mess on all fours. Maybe if I gave him a few minutes to come down from the coke, he would calm down. What was I going to do? I bit my lip as pain shot up my arm.
I took a deep breath and finished cooking for him. I brought a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast to him.
“Here you go,” I said as I put it down on the coffee table.
He glanced at me as he reached for a piece of bacon. “Your feelings hurt that I got pissed?”
My eyes widened. “I feel bad, and I hate it when you’re upset with me. It’s been a shitty day,” I replied.
“Well, leave if you don’t like it. If you think me taking care of you and paying your bills is mistreating you, by all means, walk right out that fucking door.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“What are you gonna do? Run back to Mama? You want George to help you?” Xander asked and laughed. “The sooner you realize you have no one else who gives a shit about you, the better off you’ll be.”
I winced at his words. He didn’t mean it, not really; it was the cocaine talking. He was mean when he used.
I stood still, unsure of what he would do next. He leaned back in the love seat and chewed another piece of bacon as he stared at me.
“Can I get you anything else?” I asked softly.
“No. I don’t even wanna fucking look at you. Get out of my sight and go to bed. It’s five in the morning, and you look like shit when you don’t get enough sleep.”
I turned and walked out of the kitchen as I released the breath I didn’t realize I was holding in. I quietly went up the stairs as tears streamed down my cheeks. I paused at the guest room and debated if I wanted to sleep in there, but I wasn’t sure of what he would do if I wasn’t in his bed. I went to his bedroom, closed the door behind me, and crawled into bed.
* * *
“Scoot over,” Xander said as he slid underneath the blankets.
I did what he asked, and then I stayed still and waited to see which Xander was next to me. He was like Jekyll and Hyde on the nights he went out and used. I hated it, and I hated him as much as I loved him. I bit my lip as his arm slid around my waist and he pulled me into his chest.