by Karen Lynn
For a few moments he sat motionless observing her, lost in reflection. As bad as it was, at least he hadn't run away this time. A tiny grin flickered across his face. My mother would be proud. At least about that part.
A light knock at the front door broke the silence. He heard her rustling around in the bed as he went to answer it.
“Hey Jake. Is Kristen around?” Alicia stood outside, a huge beach bag draped across her shoulder.
“She's still sleeping. We were up late last night.” The unwelcome image of Kristen, slumped on the floor, her hysterical cries tearing through the house, brought a troubled, confused look to his eyes. Then he remembered cramming his hand to her mouth to stifle her screams until she finally calmed down. And that gaping hole in the wall. His eyes involuntarily fell to his knuckles. Black and blue—shit!
“Are you okay Jake?”
Startled by Alicia’s voice, he came back to life. “Yeah. We were just up really late last night. I'm kinda out of it.” He gave her an uneasy, apologetic half smile, casting his eyes to the ground.
Scrutinizing him, Alicia shifted her weight from foot to foot and pulled the bag higher on her shoulder. “Oh, I know the feeling, that’s for sure.”
Spacing out again, he remembered staying awake all night hovering over her, hanging onto every labored breath. Listening to her moaning in her sleep. Watching her toss and turn, afraid something would go wrong. Hating himself for losing control, for being so close to hurting her. Wanting to kill himself to make it all go away. He shook his head, determined to extinguish the dark thoughts.
“Well, off to the beach. It's such a beautiful day...” Aware he wasn’t listening, her voice trailed off.
He could hear her unintelligible words somewhere in the back of his mind.
“Jake?” Alicia touched his arm.
He flinched, blinking her into focus. “Yeah, going to the beach—I'll tell her you stopped by.” Desperate to return to Kristen, he shrugged.
“Uh, right.” Alicia wrinkled her nose, following his line of vision. “I have the day off and thought maybe she wanted to go with me.”
He didn't respond.
“Oh well, probably too soon for the baby anyway.” She shrugged, pushing a smile that couldn’t camouflage the doubt. “Feel better.”
She hesitated, searching his blank face, before reversing.
“Probably not a good idea…have fun.”
Her narrowed eyes were disturbing. Itching to get away from her, he shut and locked the door.
Why is she acting so suspicious? What if Cassandra heard us?
Kristen climbed back into the bed, hiding under the blanket.
I have to protect myself. I can’t let him hurt me.
She gulped repeatedly, wincing from the burning in her throat.
“Kris, I'm not gonna hurt you, it's okay.”
His hand raised slowly, stopping in midair when she stiffened. Her eyes widened in anticipation. With a pained look taking over his face, his arm dropped to his side.
She didn't answer, didn't even attempt to formulate the right words or blurt out whatever came into her mind. Her eyes stayed glued on his, her hands clutching the blanket to her chest. The minutes ticked by in silence.
He fidgeted, so uncomfortable and uncertain he had no clue what to do next. He didn't want to walk away. He had to face his demons head on. He had to overcome them.
Careful to keep a safe distance, he sat on the edge of the bed. She tensed and watched.
“Are you going to stay quiet all day?” Tears stung his eyes. He brushed the back of his hand across his eyelids. “I told you I was sorry. I never hit you, remember?”
She coughed, cleared her throat, not wanting to remember. “You wanted to kill me.” Her garbled voice, rang strangely in her ears. “That's all I remember.”
With despair filling her eyes, she saw herself crawling away from him, frantic to get to the front door.
“No Kris, no, you attacked me first, you threw a bunch of shit, cut my arm, trashed my art supplies, said some really nasty stuff!”
Called me Logan. A violent shudder rocked his body.
“Baby, please listen to me…I’m only human, I lost it, but I controlled myself...”
Gulping back the rising nervous tension, he leaned in without realizing it. She held her breath, going rigid, unable to avoid the zig zagged scratches marking his face. Everything she longed to forget came flooding back to her, but she couldn’t back down. It hurt too much.
“This is controlling yourself?” She pointed to the bruises on her arms. Her swollen, sore eyes, began watering.
I’m not going to take the blame, it’s not my fault!
“You’re twice as big as me, Jake, you promised you would never hurt me, no matter what…”
A stunned expression took over his face. “I know, I know, and I meant it. I'm sorry.”
With extreme jitteriness preventing him from staying still, his hand fell to the throbbing gash on his arm. Then his thoughts centered on the gunshot wound on his leg. Somehow he’d forgotten to change the bandage and apply antibiotic ointment. No wonder it aches again. Funny how she doesn’t even care enough to ask about it.
Her eyes followed his hand, a look of recognition crossing her face. She didn’t want to feel bad for him—then why did she? Sniffling, she pushed her hair out of her eyes and looked away.
“Did Alex eat yet?” Her squeaky voice sounded weird. Her stomach rumbled, a reminder that she hadn't had dinner the night before. She heard the vibrations of her phone in her bag next to her. Too numb to care about anything, she ignored it.
He took in her eyes falling on her phone, wondering who she was expecting to call her. Blinking, he pushed it away, not wanting to dwell on it.
“I was letting him sleep a little longer. Do you want me to make you something? Maybe scrambled eggs or a soup?”
“You're not going to poison me, are you?”
He sensed her sarcasm, but was overcome by the gloominess in her face.
“No. You know I wouldn't do that. I just want you to feel better. You want tea?”
It’s better if I feel cold and emotionless. I don't want to love him anymore. It is too painful. But it won’t be that easy to hate him either. It never is. “Sure. Eggs and tea.”
When he walked away, she rocked herself, fretting over what to do next.
It surprised him when she came to the kitchen fifteen minutes later, dressed and holding Alex.
“You should've told me you were bringing him, I would've had his bottle ready, baby.” He rubbed his neck, amazed at how natural it felt, how it just slipped out of his mouth. Maybe it’s too soon. I have to give her some time to rebuild her trust in me. Glancing over to see her reaction, he placed a bottle in the heater.
Her face remained hidden behind Alex's head. She peeked out at him, careful not to let him catch her, and didn't respond. He set her plate down in front of her, reaching for Alex. Their gazes met as she lifted the baby into his arms.
“Does your throat still hurt? You want something for the pain?”
With all that screaming, I wouldn’t be surprised.
His heart sank as his eyes washed over her. He shifted Alex in his arms, ready to feed him. She still didn’t respond. Sighing, he distracted himself with the baby’s contented little gurgles. When he suddenly clamped his tiny fingers around his thumb, Jake excitedly turned to Kristen.
“He is one strong little guy!” As soon as he saw her eyes darken, picked up on her shudders, realized he’d screwed up, his smile died.
Ignoring the distress in his face, she pretended to concentrate on her food, chopping up the scrambled eggs until they were almost invisible. Each swallow caused more discomfort and the warmth of the coffee didn’t help. Frustrated, she dropped the spoon on the plate, and buried her head in her hands.
Jake placed the bottle of ibuprofen in front of her. Her hand shook when she opened it. He knew he shouldn't rush it, but his impatience got the best of
him. “I want to make this work, Kristen, I'll do whatever it takes.”
His voice, so soft and indistinct, made it sound like he was a million miles away. She picked at the eggs, taking little nibbles while her mind twisted in every direction. It is too soon to think about working anything out. My head feels like it’s in a vacuum, my body aches, I can’t function.
Ruby’s warnings about red flags, repeated mistakes, being reckless and foolish, invaded her thoughts. Is he the mistake? Or is it just Logan? Or both. Should I start over, get rid of both of them, move in with Alicia? Forget men altogether? She had to laugh. Men have been my downfall but also my passion. Alicia won’t work. She wants more than my friendship.
She strained to study his troubled face through the wavy strands of hair strewn across her eyes.
He rose, carrying Alex back to the bedroom. Her silence was devastating.
Maybe it is too soon, I shouldn’t pressure her. Maybe, I really fucked up this time and have to let her go. His lips brushed Alex's head as he laid him down in the crib. But letting her go means losing him too. I couldn’t live with that.
“Jake?” She whispered without raising her eyes to him when he returned to the kitchen.
Startled, he sank into a chair, staring across the table at her.
“Logan's probably going to take a plea. He'll be locked up for a year or two. I just thought you should know.”
With a deep breath, he nodded.
Is that it? “What about us then?” His eyes were hopeful but puzzled.
She was slow to answer, toying with her food. Finally, her spoon clattered onto the plate. “I don't know. It's too soon, I need more time… to think.”
“To think? Please, Kris, you know I didn’t mean it, you know how sorry I am.” The calmness in his voice was misleading, his anxiety had risen—he knew he had to control himself. “How much time do you need?”
“I’m not sure Jake, but if there’s any chance of this working, we have to be totally honest with each other, without screaming and...” She searched his eyes, trying to gauge his tolerance level. Her words seemed pacifying so far.
“Ok, I'm good with that. I won't even go near you. What do you want to tell me?” It would be tough, but he was determined to stay composed. What could she possibly tell him that he didn't already suspect anyway?
She had to get everything off of her chest, but still didn't trust him.
Is this how a trapped bird feels? It is awful.
Her eyes darted to the door, trying to access the distance, just in case.
“If you’re not comfortable here, we can go to the couch instead.”
No, that would be even farther from the front door. “It’s okay, I'm fine.” Touching her throat, she tried to ignore the violent heart palpitations.
I’ll start slow. “I have something to tell you...”
The distrust in her eyes alarmed him. “What is it? Don't worry, I won't get mad.” His hand reached out to touch hers, then drew back.
It wasn't convincing, but she had to try. Touching the fork for reassurance, she cleared her throat. “You were right; I was with him yesterday.” She didn't have to look at Jake, to tell he had clamped up. Without giving herself a chance to chicken out, she rushed on. “Only because he's going to prison, he acted like he would freak out and change his story. I know it was wrong, but I got scared, I’m sorry, but I just can't go in his place, I wouldn't last a day…” She paused, swallowing the tears.
“I’d end up killing myself first.” The words were meant to be under her breath. He heard them loud and clear.
The tautness in his neck grew more painful the longer he refused to raise his eyes. Against his will, his hands clenched into fists and shook. When he became aware of it, he thrust them onto his lap out of sight. “Like a mercy fuck, that's what you're saying?” Grunting, at the uncomfortable look in her eyes, he didn’t wait for an answer. “Yeah, I thought so. And how did that work out, then? Did it calm him down, fix all his worries?” He glared at her, his eyes more dead than vicious.
“Jake, if you can't handle this, forget it, okay? You wanted the truth, you promised you could handle it…”
“I know, and I am. I just asked you a simple question. Did it guarantee he won't tell the truth?” He leaned forward, his arms on the table again.
“I think so.”
“Cool. You did good Kristen. Congratulations! Anything else? Because I have things to do.” This truthful revelation turned out to be more than he could handle. Anxious to rise, he gripped the edge of his seat.
“No. Where are you going? I thought we were trying to work this out? Why are you running away?”
Shut up and forget it Kristen, it’s better this way. Let him go! No matter what he says or does, remember—he could’ve killed you!
The throbbing in her temple had reached an intolerable level. Desperate for instant relief, she bowed her head, massaging it.
“I'm not running anywhere.” He sighed, settling back in the chair, his long legs stretched out before him. “What else?”
She squinted at him for a minute, then continued. “I know I have my own problems—my issues to sort out—I know I promised myself I would tell you about them…” She couldn’t go on.
When she paused to take a deep breath, he stiffened.
“I think we need to go to counseling. Both of us. I know you were totally against it before—”
He cut her off, his eyes alive again. “—That was before, not now. Find a good place, I'll go with you.”
His response was unexpected and left her mute.
Seizing the opportunity, he got up to sit next to her. “Are you really sorry we met? Because I'm not.” He brought his hand to her hair, holding back at first, then letting his fingers flutter through it.
She shifted in her seat, facing him full on. “No.” Her fingers gingerly brushed away the tears one by one as they sprinkled onto her cheeks.
“And…do you hate me?”
She lowered her eyes. Unable to get the words out, she shook her head.
Without waiting for her permission, he leaned in, kissing her gently at first, then with rising ardor as she responded.
“What about that divorce?” he asked when they broke free.
She was out of breath and not anxious to talk. After a couple of deep sighs, she finally answered. “I'll talk to Steven Joseph, and if he can't handle it we'll find someone here. But not yet. After he's been in prison awhile.”
“Why? If you don't wanna get married, that's okay, but why can't you end it with him?”
Here she goes again, running in circles. Despite the intense efforts to resist, it infuriated him.
“I have to know you're done with him, I can't help it Kristen.” Being extra cautious to keep his touch light and tender, he held her face. He continued scrutinizing her body language, scaring her off the last thing he wanted. She slumped back in the chair.
“I am and I was truthful to you, wasn't I? You know how hard that was for me?”
He nodded weakly, distracted by the vision of their endless fights in his mind.
It’s amazing we are still together. Am I a masochist? How many times was she really with him? Enough with the negativity, time to deal with the present and future.
His face hardened. “Talk to me.”
It was difficult and painful, but she had to do it. “Jake, you don't want me to end up in prison, do you?”
“How can you even ask me that? Are you forgetting I also covered up for you?” He didn’t want to bring it up, but all the credit she gave to Logan was adding up and driving him crazy.
“Of course not! How could I forget you lied for me? And I would have done the same thing for you in a heartbeat!”
Stunned by the fierce sincerity in her face, he remained silent.
With her throat inflamed again, she took a drink, wincing.
“All I’m saying is for a little while longer, we have to play by his rules.”
The muscles i
n his face flexed. “Sorry, I don’t play by anybody’s rules—”
She couldn’t give him a chance to have another outburst.
“—I didn't mean it that way! All I meant…ugh!” Damn it!
His eyes were glued on her.
“I am done with him; I’m not going near him. It just has to be all wrapped up before I can totally break away from him. I'll talk to Micky and find out how long it will take, but he doesn't know the truth, so I have to be very careful.” Sensing Jake’s distress, she cupped his hands with hers. When he looked up she met his eyes.
“Okay. But no more lies. And no sex or sneaking into the condo. I don't want him manipulating you anymore.”
Was he really manipulating her though? He buried his face in his hands, his voice muffled. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
He could tell she was withholding something. He removed his hands and raised his eyebrows, waiting.
“So we can take it one day at a time then, for now? You won't be so impatient? Please?” There was a faint glimmer in her eyes again, the dullness gone.
His mouth opened, then shut. He wanted to remind her he had been patient—it had been almost a year and he was still waiting. He tried to ignore the pockets of red in the whites of her eyes.
“Okay, okay.” He raised his hands in surrender. It wasn't worth disturbing her. He needed the glimmer in her eyes to return full force. “Anything else?”
“Do you really think I should call my mother? I was thinking I may have been too hard on her. There's some stuff she told me about my dad...” Her voice choked up.
It stunned him since she rarely mentioned her mother anymore. “Yeah, baby, she's your mom. Did you wanna tell me what she said?”
Her lips quivered, despite her best efforts to control it. “I can't really talk about it now. It's something I’ve been trying to forget all these years. I know I'll have to deal with it in therapy…”
He could see the distress right through the smile she attempted to hide behind.
I wonder if that’s a reason she’s so aggressive. Does Logan know the truth?
“Whenever you're ready, I'll be here. I'm patient.” He forced a grin, hoping she wouldn’t notice how troubled his eyes were.