"My mother and I were watching television together when he'd gotten home. She'd pulled me closer to her and wrapped her arms around me, kissing my head. We sat quietly until we heard a crash in the kitchen. I have no idea what set it off, but he came into the living room furious and screaming." The visuals were slipping through my mind so clearly, like it was happening again.
Mia's embrace tightened.
"He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me away from my mother. She screamed for him to stop, but he shoved her back down onto the couch. He yelled at me first." His words echoed in my head.
"What did he say Christopher?"
"That I was a mistake, that he could never want a bastard son." Mia whimpered from behind me.
Reaching around, I grabbed her arm and pulled her to my right. Pressing my side into her chest, her legs still on either side of me, my head lay against her chest. Her fingers moved through my hair. Sighing, I closed my eyes at the feeling.
"My mother stood up and shoved him away from me. She told me to go to my room and lock the door. So I did. I sat on my bed listening to him berate her over and over about being a worthless whore, how she killed his child but protected the bastard son, and then I heard a thud and a scream. I couldn't just sit there, so I ran to her side. He grabbed me by my hair and threw me into the closest, locking me inside. I tried not to listen. I tried not to hear her screams and moans while I wasn't able to help her." Wiping the tears from my face with the back of my hand, Mia ran both hands over me. Her heartbeat increased in my ear.
"Then she was there, opening the door and reaching for me. I grasped onto her, happy she was there, but I saw the blood and the bruising. He had hit her with something other than his hands this time. She limped on the way to my room."
"Get on the bed she ordered, and shoved my dresser in front of the locked door. We curled up together where she held me and kissed me over and over. I love you Christopher. Always she repeated the words so many times before his screaming and the pounding started. She tried to protect me."
"Then there was the roar and the ringing in my ears. She clasped the sides of my head, covering my ears. When I looked up at her, I saw the mixture of fear and love in her eyes. 'I'm so sorry' she said." I snorted. "She fucking apologized before that bastard pushed the door in and shoved the dresser away." I buried my face in Mia's chest.
"It's okay," she whispered against my ear. It took a moment, but I found my voice again.
"She shoved me off the bed to the floor and got up, standing over me. After a couple of minutes, she told me to run and I did. I was almost to the front door when I realized she wasn't with me. Then I she screamed."
Clenching my eyes shut, I fisted the cushion beneath us. A ripping sound filled the silence.
"Christopher, we can stop." I barely heard the doc speak while I relived the haunting night in my head.
"'No, please don't', that's what she screamed." I sobbed. "I had to go back for her. I couldn't leave her with him. I just couldn't."
"It's okay Christopher. Of course you couldn't, no one expected you to." Mia's hushed tone sent a rush of emotion through my chest. "It's okay."
Sucking in a ragged breath, I tried to take calming breaths.
"I got back through my bedroom door and saw the gun pointed at me. I heard the click, but before I saw or heard, anything else, my mother's body was in front of me. Then I just saw red." I chocked on the last words.
"Her blood had splattered onto me. The ringing, oh god the ringing in my ears…it was so loud I didn't hear him screaming at me. I wiped my face and looked down at my mother, lifeless on the floor in front of me."
"He blamed me, told me it was supposed to be me and that I'd caused her death."
My body rocked back and forth slightly. Mia held on tightly. When I almost brought us off the couch onto the floor, Doctor J twitched to catch us. But before it could happen, Mia put both hands on my head and spoke softly into my ear trying to relax me. It worked.
"He grabbed my arm and threw me against the wall, away from my mother. Then he leaned down," the rage fought against the pulsing touch of Mia, "he pulled her into his arms and cradled her." My disgust was prevalent.
"What did you do Christopher?" Doctor J's voice was like a shock to my system.
"I screamed at him for touching her and then attacked him. I tried to fight him. He grabbed my wrists and threw me into the wall again. He started screaming at me and when he got the gun back into his hand, he pointed it at me, again. I heard the click, but moved as he pulled the trigger and caught his legs." Swallowing hard, my stomach gurgled and bile rose up.
"Christopher, what happened then? It's okay. You only did what was necessary at the time."
"The gun slid across the floor. I got to it first." Oddly, numbness crawled over me. "He tried to stand but there was so much blood on the floor he slid. He fucking slid on her blood!"
"It's okay, let's stop." Doctor J sounded concerned and tense. Mia only held on to me and continued to whisper into my ear.
"With the gun, I walked over to him." A sneer tugged at my lips. "He pleaded with me."
I snorted.
"He had the fucking nerve to beg for his life, while my mother's blood was soaking into his clothes."
Mia's chest jerked, a soft cry escaped her lips.
"I held the gun to his head and pulled the trigger." All emotion had left me. My hardened eyes focused in on Doctor J. "I killed him and I'd do it again, and again."
It was quiet for a long time. The doctor didn't say a word. Mia's light cries were all I heard. She held me tighter than I could ever remember being held.
"You defended yourself Christopher. You were just a boy, who watched a man that you trusted and loved take away your mother." He sighed heavily. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"I killed him." I growled. "And I'm glad that he's dead! I'm happy I did it!"
"It's time to let go Christopher," he paused. "I think that's enough now."
Sagging against her body, I closed my eyes and cried. It was silent for a moment, before the sound of a door echoed in the room. Opening my eyes, the chair where Doctor J sat was now empty. I buried my face once more into Mia, who was wiping tears from her face.
"Are you alright?" she whispered
"I don't know," the numbness was still there, but receding. "Thank you," I whispered.
"Just remember me in your next Grammy speech," she shot back.
I couldn't help but chuckle. It wasn't wholehearted laughter, but I was more than thankful to her for making the situation lighter.
After readjusting so that my back was against the couch and she was in front of my body, I kept my head pressed to her chest. My arms wrapped around her upper and her lower back and she kept her arms around my shoulders. We lay there for I don't know how long. She just held me and allowed me hold her.
It was this moment I become conscious of three things. One, my nights were going to change, for better or for worse I wasn't sure; Two, I was scared Mia would run away from me now that she knew I was a heartless murderer; and Three, I didn't want to ever be without Mia.
Chapter Eighteen
I'd been nervous about being at Christopher's session; however, my instincts took over when I heard him getting upset. The doctor hadn't come for me, but when Christopher's voice raised the urge to go to him took over. He seemed to be at the panic point. Doctor J smiled when I glanced over and wrapped my arms around Christopher.
Listening to everything Christopher said made my stomach turn. It sickened me that someone could put a little boy through that, it was heartbreaking. I tried to stay strong and not cry, but there was no avoiding it. Not when I could feel his pain.
By the end of the session, I was emotionally exhausted and after Christopher adjusted our position, I fell asleep. We were woke by Doctor J's return to his suite.
I went back to my room, leaving Christopher and Doctor J behind to talk more.
Back in the suite, we were doing our own thing.
Kat and Serena curled up on the couch watching a movie. Laney was browsing clothes on her laptop, and I was in my room with my guitar and notebook. They were watching me, but no one asked and I didn't want to talk about it.
It took quite a few hours to get through the song I was working on and it wasn't finished, but it was a start. Una interrupted to usher us to the arena for stage rehearsal.
We cross paths with The Forgotten. Deep down I wanted to see him, just to make sure he was okay. I wasn't sure if I should expect my sleeping buddy or not, but I didn't have to wonder for too long. We'd just stepped into our rooms when there was a knock at the door.
Serena gave me an unsure smile as I answered the door. Opening the door, he looked a mess. He wasn't panicked or freaking, but his appearance was distraught. Stepping back, I allowed him space to enter. Instead of walking by me, he wrapped his arms around me. Holding me tightly to his chest, he exhaled and relaxed the tension in his body. I pushed the door shut and stood there for a few moments.
Reaching behind my back, I tried to pull his hands from my waist, but he wouldn't let go. Slowly I began coaxing him toward my bedroom. Tripping over his feet a couple of times, he finally loosened his hold.
Taking his hand, I pulled him into my room. Upon release of his hand, he sat onto the bed and I started toward the bathroom.
"Where are you going?" My heart ached at the desperation in his voice.
"Shower" With my quick and quiet response, I grabbed some pajamas. "I'll be quick." I hoped it was reassuring, but I don't think I succeeded.
Braiding my damp hair, I clasped the end when I exited the bathroom. He hadn't moved. Seated in the same spot, he stared at nothing. Slowly I walked toward his stoic presence.
"Chris?" He didn't respond, "Christopher?" Still nothing.
Reaching out, I placed my hand on his shoulder.
"Hey?" Keeping my voice low, I tilted my head in an attempt to get him to look at me.
In one briefly startling moment, his hand came up and grasped my forearm.
"You okay?"
Christopher didn't respond. Instead he pulled me toward him and then onto the bed. Laying us down, he buried his face into my neck and wrapped his arms around me. His racing heart thudded against my chest and his tears dampened my neck. Rubbing slow circles on his back and running my other hand through his damp hair, I hoped I was helping.
The clock wasn't in my line of sight when he started twitching and groaning in his sleep. Cupping his face, I tried to whisper words of reassurance. He was still working through the aftermath of his session and I began to think about his disclosures.
He purposely killed a man. But the man deserved it. My own thoughts shocked me. A heavy jerk of his body pulled me from my deliberation. He was really struggling tonight and I felt helpless.
"No, don't," he mumbled against my chest. "Don't leave me," "I'm sorry," "My fault," and "Please," were just some of the pleas he made throughout the night. All I could do was run my hand through his hair and hold him as tight as possible.
Waking the next morning I was exhausted, but my bladder screamed for relief. Stretching out, Christopher's solid body was wrapped around me. Shifting around, he tightened up.
"Don't leave," he mumbled into my back.
"Just give me a minute. I'll be back, okay?" I patted his hand and hesitantly he loosened up.
Once in the bathroom, I got to business. Bladder came first, teeth second, and twisting my braid to the back of my head.
Climbing back into bed, Christopher instantly reached over, grabbing my left hand and pulled me onto my side, against his back. Lacing his fingers into mine, he held our entwined hand to his chest. I rested my cheek against his back.
His heart thumped against our hands. The beat accelerated. He was still struggling, and I felt so bad for him. Deciding I could definitely sleep more, I let myself relax into the new position. Closing my eyes, I took one deep breath.
"Are you afraid of me?" He said it so low. I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or if I was hearing things in my half sleep state.
"N-no."
He exhaled a breath he had been holding.
"Do you hate me?"
"Why would I?"
"Do you?" There was a frustrated edge to his voice.
"No," My answer was quick and honest.
"You did hate me," it was more fact than a question.
"I hated how you were being toward me, toward all of us. You didn't even know us and….and well you were being an asshole." His body shook slightly and realized he was laughing.
"Thank you Mia"
"Um…for calling you an asshole?"
He laughed silently again.
"Yeah, for that and not running and screaming after everything."
After that he didn't say anything else, we just lay there in silence.
He smelled so good and familiar. I lay against his back letting his scent absorb into every pore. The spark in my stomach lit just from his smell. Feeling him against my body made the spark ignite into a flame. My inner hooker stretched and began slipping on fishnets. I forced her into a cold shower.
* * * * *
The images and memories had flooded me throughout the rest of the day and evening. Doctor J talked to me one-on-one after Mia left. He’d given me some anxiety medication. He warned me of the aftermath of my session, but he would be following us on tour a little longer for my sake.
I got back to my room where Jackson was on psycho watch. Lying in bed, alone and sobbing, like a little girl. Doctor J came in to talk with me and give me some other medication to calm me. We couldn't even do our rehearsal because of the state of my pathetic ass.
Sleeping for about three hours, the rest spent tossing and turning, pacing my room, and taking shower after shower. When I emerged from my room, Jackson appraised my state. He half-heartedly smiled when he realized I was still a wreck. I headed for her room hoping she was there. If I could just feel her next to me, I knew I would be better.
The door opened slowly. Once I saw her, my raw emotions drew me to her. I wrapped myself around her. After her stumbled attempts toward the bedroom, I finally allowed her to move us. I knew there was the possibility of freaking her out with the way I was acting, but like I've said, I'm an addict and she is the drug.
While she showered, there was nothing to do, except think. My mind was lost in that night and the session, until her hand was on me.
The moment she was on the bed, I buried into her scent and the feel of her skin. She allowed me to take control of her as we fell asleep.
In the morning, all I could think was she had to be terrified and even hate me by this point. There’s no way she cared the way Doctor J seemed to believe. So, when she got back into bed, I wrapped her around me. No matter how much I feared the answers, I needed to know.
She seemed to be completely honest, calling me an asshole as well as answering my questions. Thanking her was the very least I could do.
There was so much more I wanted from her at this point. She just didn't know it and I was too much of a coward to say it aloud. The risk of rejection was far too great.
My cuddle session interrupted by Una and Xander‘s arrival. It was almost time to leave for the arena. The concert was tonight.
It was odd how no one looked twice at Mia and me lying in bed anymore. They moved around us as if it was nothing at all. However, in all honesty, it had become so much more than nothing. At least for me it had.
Finally, I relinquished my hold on her to leave and get ready for the night, but I’d done it reluctantly. She was walking out of her room behind me when I stopped and turned to her. I only looked into her eyes for a moment and ran my fingers along her cheek. She looked confused as I turned and went on my way. The tingling in my fingertips remained throughout the morning.
Sitting backstage, waiting for our turn on stage, I noticed the room was uncommonly silent. It was obviously because of me, but I couldn't handle the sneak peeks they were giving when they t
hought I couldn't see them.
"Okay just fucking say it already," I spat.
"Say what?" Jackson shrugged.
"Whatever the fuck it is that you guys are so quiet about, it's driving me insane." Taking turns eyeing each of them one at a time waiting for someone to answer me.
"Dude..." Elliott started.
"Elliott," Jimmy hissed.
"Someone better fucking tell me!"
Jackson leaned forward.
"Look, Dayton was cancelled."
I shrugged.
"That means we have a week off, actually ten days." Shrugging again, he continued. "We're flying back to Seattle tomorrow morning."
"Okay, so what's the big fucking deal?"
"The girls are going back home, in Whidbey Island" Elliott said quietly. That's when it sunk in. Mia would be hours away.
Nicholas's words taunted me, 'she won't be on tour with you forever'. Jackson saw my expression go blank.
"Christopher, stay focused brother, we have to go on stage soon."
"I fucking know that," I scowled at him. "I survived before Mia if you remember." Growling, I turned my attention to the dirty white wall across from me.
Before anyone could say anything else, we were called to the stage.
The next morning brought us to the airport. I'd to talk to Doctor J on the phone before we left and he thought it would be a good opportunity for me to try some nights alone.
Slowly I climbed on the private jet. Mia was in her normal sleeping position with her oversized sweatshirt and iPod. After liftoff, I got up and sat next to her. She was asleep, like on most of our flights, so I sat next to her undetected, until we landed and departed the plane.
Two separate cars awaited us. The larger van would take the girls to Whidbey Island and our car would take us to our Seattle home. A twinge in my stomach turned into a knot when Mia gave me a small wave as she climbed into the van. Sighing, I ran my hand through my hair, and forced myself into the car.
Our first night home they tried to keep me. Going out to dinner, playing pool at our favorite bar, and they even considered a strip club. I couldn't believe the extent they were going. The fact was I didn't know what was going to happen tonight, and truthfully, I just wanted her.
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