Redefining Us: A Reclusive Novel

by Harloe Rae

  Even though my clothes are masking the damage, I know what’s lurking beneath. The scars covering my body seem to burn with recognition and remind me of the battle I lost. Not bothering to delay the inevitable, I pull the shirt over my head and yank the sweatpants down my hips. I scour the ruin marring the skin of my torso, chest, arms, and shoulders. My back is camouflaged in old wounds but thankfully I can’t fixate on them.

  I stand completely still as the memories swarm my mind. Tears burn my eyes as I picture my fallen brothers. All of them deteriorating to dust before me and I’m again helpless to stop the destruction. My body threatens to buckle and collapse with the weight of it all.

  I examine the thick jagged line that starts at my left pec and grotesquely zigzags until it ends near my right ribs. Even after a year, the surrounding flesh looks irritated and infected. I still wonder how I survived considering how nasty that fucking gash appears.

  The canvas of wreckage matches the tragic catastrophe I’m harboring inside. I’ll never escape the fucking desert and the ghosts lingering within the shadows. The gurgling screams blend with disfigured faces will forever haunt me. My legs finally give out and I crash down to my knees.

  I’ll never escape.

  I’m so far gone that I don’t hear the door open behind me. The telltale gasp alerts me that Willow is getting her first glimpse of what I’ve become. I don’t even attempt to cover my exposed shame. I bow my head and wait for her inevitable disgust to be verbalized. How could she not be filled with loathing upon witnessing this scene? The revulsion bubbles in my gut as I prepare for her to leave, just like I knew she would.

  Fuck.

  * * *

  A loud bang steals my attention from the pile of clothes in front of me. My head snaps toward the location of the sound and I’m instantly on alert. Even though I can’t see him, I know something alarming just happened in there. The water isn’t running and it’s eerily quiet as I near the bathroom.

  I’m definitely noticing a trend since I’ve been here. I tend to waltz into these startling situations, unsuspecting of the potential risks. This is reminiscent of when I found Xander panicking after we had sex. What will I stumble upon this time? I hear another disturbing clatter loudly echo through the small space, which propels me forward.

  Formalities and etiquette flew out the window when I first arrived so I don’t knock on the door before opening it. I edge into the bathroom totally unprepared for the sight before me. Again. The startled gasp leaps from my throats before I even realize it.

  Xander is kneeling on the floor in a defeated position and tenses further from my sound. His big body is hunched over and curled in a distinctively protective manner. My frantic gaze doesn’t settle on his position because I’m too preoccupied scanning for injuries.

  My eyes barely register the scars littering most of Xander’s upper body because something much more fascinating has caught my attention. I silently study the intricate tattoo that covers a huge portion of his right side. The dark lines start at his forearm before growing up his upper arm and wrapping around his bicep. From there it branches out to flow onto his pec and extends to his shoulder. The ink reaches around his back to complete the enormous work of art.

  It’s absolutely mesmerizing and I am stunned by the creative beauty. I inch forward to get a closer look to determine what the design is. I’m a bit puzzled by my findings because I can’t comprehend the hidden meaning. The tattoo definitely resembles an exotic tree.

  It’s so freaking stunning!

  Another gasp slips out without warning. “Oh my gosh, Xander!” I don’t know what else to say. I’m a little stunned. That’s for sure. My curiosity sprouts like an annoying pest that I can’t get rid of as I continue investigating his arm.

  Why didn’t I see this before?

  What does this tree mean to him?

  After hearing my exclamation, Xander snaps out of his silent stupor to lash out. “I know I’m a fucking freak. The fucked up disaster outside matches the messed up mayhem in my mind. When are you going to believe me that you should just leave?” His tone is feral and I’m suddenly heavy with disappointment that he’s reverted back to this defense mechanism.

  At first I don’t understand why he’s so angry. I’m sure he doesn’t appreciate me drooling all over him. It takes monumental effort to look away from the intricate tattoo but then I scan over the collection of gashes, scars, and wounds that decorate the rest of Xander’s skin. It looks like a horrible scrapbook of memories he’s desperate to forget.

  My mind is a blank slate as I scramble for what to say. I need to do something but my body remains locked in place. Xander hangs his head before his shoulders slump forward further. He appears to be in an extremely vulnerable state and I don’t want to make it worse. I am so freaking confused. Maybe it would be better for me to give him space. Selfishly, I don’t think I can. Just thinking of leaving him like this makes my chest ache. I need to reach him before he gets pulled farther into this madness.

  “Let me see you, Xander,” I whisper. “Please.”

  He doesn’t respond so I try to be patient while surveying my options. His eyes are squeezed shut and his fists quiver as he fights the battle against his mind. I need him to understand that I don’t see the damage when my gaze feasts on his glorious form. He could never be a monster to me, no matter what horrible poison fills his head.

  I shuffle forward a few feet to lean against the vanity. Xander has his face averted and clearly doesn’t want to chat. He’s disappeared into his mind and is allowing his crippling thoughts to take over.

  My limited interactions with Xander have been strained but have provided some explanation into these erratic shifts in his character. I’ve witnessed similar behavior from patients with severe trauma. I hate comparing Xander to cases I’ve worked with but in these instances, my experience has proven useful. It’s clear that all he can see right now are the flaws. He’s trained himself to believe that he’s ruined and worthless.

  Xander seems to forget how well I know him and that I’m aware of who he is, buried deep within. That’s what I truly care about. It’s Xander’s beautiful heart that I want. The scars are just superficial. What truly defines him has nothing to do with the markings on his flesh. Other than the newly discovered ink . . .

  I desperately want to get a closer look at his tattoo.

  I hesitantly reach out to trace the delicate details of the tree but stop before my fingers touch his skin. It’s absolutely magnificent. The winding roots merge into a swirling trunk with endless branches and eccentric twigs. Each line is perfectly placed to create the extraordinary piece. I can’t believe he didn’t tell me about this sooner. Alright, that’s laughable but honestly, I can’t imagine him permanently getting this symbol etched into his arm for no reason. The Xander I always knew wouldn’t impulsively choose some random item. There has to be a story that goes along with it.

  When did he get this done?

  I’m so effing curious about this ink embedded into him but clearly Xander is not in the mood to explain. I’ll add it to the growing list of topics to readdress at a more appropriate time. My head spins as I attempt to gather my scattered ideas.

  Xander’s body is still locked up as he remains closed off. He’s full of so much hate and fury. He’s bottled it up so tight that I’m worried he’s about to implode. His entire form begins to tremble and shake as he cowers on the bathroom floor. Xander is trapped in such a horrible place and can’t find an escape route. I don’t know how much longer I can watch this without intervening, forget the consequences.

  Ever since I found out Xander was back, I’ve been desperate for a cozy hug. The type that steals your breath and leaves you tingling with warmth. It used to be our thing and I miss it terribly. I’ve wanted to jump into his arms and spin around like a cheesy romantic comedy.

  Obviously, I’ve realized that would be about as well received as an ice bath, so I’ve held off. There isn’t anything for me to fear from
this man, not anymore. Based on recent observations, Xander has a specialty in attacking himself and it’s slowly breaking my heart.

  I’m not waiting another minute.

  I descend on his broken form and tightly wrap my arms around him. Overwhelming warmth engulfs me as I pull Xander close to me. I’ve craved this simple affection, though I’d rather have it happen on better terms, I’ll take what I can get.

  At first Xander stiffens and my gut clenches in feat that he will reject me. I’m sure it isn’t easy for him to accept my touch in this dark moment. But the change is drastic and sudden. His glacial exterior cracks open and all the pain seems to purge out rapidly.

  Gut wrenching sobs echo off the tiled floor. Xander’s body is heaving with his ragged cries and I’m astonished by the flood of crushing emotion before me. The broken noises ripping from his throat break my heart but his is exactly what he needs to release his demons. The tears soaking into my shoulder are evidence of the pain he’s held onto for too long.

  When I imagine what could cause such a significant reaction, my mind instantly goes to horrible places I’ve heard from my job. I’m only a bystander to this onslaught of agony but it cuts me deep regardless. My chest aches with empathy for what he’s currently going through but I’m relieved he’s letting it out. The wounded layers seem to shed away with each quiver of his skin.

  I whisper soothing words close to Xander’s ear while rubbing his back. Maybe they aren’t registering but I want him to know I will always support him. No matter what, I’ll be here to love him. I continue softly stroking his skin while he is fisting the material of my shirt. I grip him tighter and hold with all my might. I need to be his solid ground while he’s slipping off the edge.

  I lose track of time as Xander keeps releasing his anguish with convulsing tremors. I can only hope he’s finding some relief in this and it’s helping him heal. Even though my legs are cramping and my arms are strained, I don’t move or complain. I can handle the temporary discomfort if it means Xander is finding some semblance of peace.

  Eventually his sounds of sorrow taper off but he doesn’t release me. His hands smooth over my sides and ease around my lower back. Xander shifts slightly, which allows me to adjust my sore limbs. I never lose contact with his skin and once we’re settled again, I dig my fingers into his muscles. He turns his head so his lips are nearly touching my neck.

  “Thank you, Willow.” His raspy voice cracks. He clears his throat before speaking again. “I’m really overwhelmed right now. That was so fucked up I should be ashamed. My head is clear for a change. That’s thanks to you.”

  He places a gentle kiss against my sensitive skin and I quickly angle my face to hide my own onslaught of grief.

  * * *

  As I sit on the freezing floor, cocooned in Willow’s arms, my mind is once again bogged down in warped confusion.

  What the hell was that?

  With Willow here, I’m constantly questioning myself and obsessing over stupid bullshit. I know this reality is far better than how I was coping alone but the twisted feelings make it difficult to settle down.

  I just bawled my fucking eyes out like an inconsolable child and I couldn’t seem to stop. Once I crumbled, the despair and suffering immediately started draining out. I couldn’t turn them off. I cried and fucking cried until I felt rubbed raw. I purged all the pain I’d been harboring and I’ll admit, relief is beginning to flow inside me. I just don’t know what to do now that I openly broke down in front of Willow. She’s going to want answers that I’m not ready to give.

  Willow moves a bit, which effectively reminds me of our current predicament. Not that I could ever forget. She’s trying to hide her tears for some reason. I have no clue how she could be embarrassed after the show I put on for her. If I was a better man, I would ask and not let her go on pretending she’s fine. I could take a turn offering comfort but I’m sure I’ll fuck it up.

  I suddenly realize that I am naked. Willow is practically straddling me and my body is beginning to take notice. Her sinful curves are pressed up against me and in close proximity to my rapidly hardening dick. I don’t need her assuming all I want is sex, especially when she’s crying. I’ve had enough shame for today.

  It physically pains me to loosen my hold and put some much needed distance between us. Willow whines in protest, which is like a knife cutting into my heart.

  I try to soften the blow as I pull away. “Before this gets more awkward for me, I’m going to take a shower. We can talk when I’m done, all right?” I’m growing more uncomfortable the longer we continue sitting here.

  Thankfully Willow takes my not so subtle hint and lifts herself from my lap. I try to cover myself but then realize there’s no point. I’m completely exposed but she’s already seen it all. My insanity, my scars, and my junk are on full display. The willow tree covering my arm has been hidden from her since she arrived but she clearly saw that too. She didn’t comment on the design so maybe she hasn’t figured out the meaning. I’ll have to fucking tell her soon enough regardless.

  Fuck it.

  I stand on shaky legs and lean against the wall to turn on the water. My skin itches and I’m feeling so fucking stressed with Willow lingering. My heart pounds as I wonder if she’s figured out the truth behind my ink. I look at her over my shoulder and catch her ogling my ass. She freezes and an obvious blush blooms on her cheeks. I can almost feel a smile forming on my lips and that freaks me out even further.

  Willow’s face turns red with embarrassment and she stutters out an apology before rushing from the room. When the door clicks shut, some of the tension seeps out of me. Then I get the urge to invite her back in just to have her close.

  I’m so fucked up.

  She’s still in the house, idiot.

  Jumping in the shower, I race through my usual routine. I’d never admit that I’m anxious when she’s out of my sight, but Willow has definitely knocked something loose. As I finish up, I try not to overthink this new level of wacked I’ve stooped to. I mop up the trickles of water trailing down my body before wrapping the towel around my waist.

  As the door is ripped open, my eyes immediately seek out Willow. She’s in the kitchen searching through my sorry excuse for a refrigerator. For a moment I’m distracted by her swaying ass as she bends to check the bottom shelf. Then the guilt sets in for not thinking to offer her food sooner. As if I could forget my incompetence.

  I leave her be and turn to my bedroom to get dressed. I grab the first clean clothes I find and carelessly throw them on. I casually glance around and notice how much better it looks in my house. It brings stupid ideas to my mind of keeping Willow around. We could make it work living out here together. She’s already made this place into a far better home than I ever could. My heart rate spikes at the thought of having Willow forever.

  First we need to survive a full day together.

  Before those thoughts take root, Willow breaks my concentration. “Do you have anything to eat other than steak and beans?” She asks as she searches through the mostly empty cabinets. Her question reminds me that I haven’t had any food since yesterday afternoon.

  I mentally list the scarce options as I head toward her. “There might be some random crap in the freezer. I’m due for a delivery soon so the choices are very limited.” I rest against the table and secretly appreciate her position. She’s stretching tall to reach a can of soup and I have to suppress a groan at how fucking hot she looks.

  “Random crap? Xander, you seriously need to take better care of yourself. I’m surprised you’ve survived this long.” Her voice is laced with humor but she doesn’t realize how close to truth her words are. I’ve had some very close calls but not for the reasons she’s currently insinuating.

  She faces me and I shrug my shoulders. I know Willow is trying to lighten the mood but I’m not sure how to joke around anymore. It reminds me how little she knows me.

  She takes my silence the wrong way, of course. “You’re not sneaki
ng back in your shell, Xander. No way. You told me we would talk. Don’t you dare shut me out.” There is a hint of whine in her tone that I remember extremely well. I always gave in and Willow used it to get her way.

  I scrub my hands over my face and try not to get frustrated. I have a feeling we will have countless misunderstandings until I can figure out how to communicate like a normal person again. This time I let the groan escape before trying to explain myself.

  “I’m not going back on my word, Willow. Sometimes I don’t know what to say. As you’ve figured out, I don’t have any desire to spend time with people so my social skills are rusty. It hasn’t mattered until now. I didn’t know how to respond to your teasing.” I let out an exasperated sigh at having to admit my shortcomings again.

  “Let’s eat quick and then we can take a walk. Did you find the beef jerky?”

  Willow’s lips spread into a wide smile. I almost fucking sway on my feet from the sight.

  “Jerky? Now you’re talking. See? Not everything has changed.” She sounds way too excited about that but at least she’s happy again.

  For now.

  * * *

  I’ve been silently freaking out waiting for Xander to be ready for our discussion. I don’t expect him to open up about everything but I would love for at least a few blanks to be filled. While he was showering, I finished cleaning and attempted to make dinner for us. The problem with that plan was the serious lack of food in this house. It was one more thing that made me really rattled about Xander’s situation.

  When he joined me in the kitchen, it took colossal strength to keep the smile on my face. It was even more difficult to appear unaffected after everything that has happened today. It has seriously been the most intense afternoon of my life and it keeps getting crazier.