by S. M. Shade
“I don’t depend on others.” His scowl deepens. No matter what I say, all he can hear is criticism as his suspicious brain ponders why I really invited him.
“We all depend on others sometimes. There’s nothing wrong with that. Abby’s a better cook than I am, and Joseph’s a better trapper. My son, Carson’s a great hunter, and I can catch a fish even if it’s the only one in the pond. We all help each other, and nobody goes hungry. There’s safety in numbers, Sammy.”
“I’d rather be alone,” he grumbles. “Nothing’s free. Nobody does shit for you without wanting something.” He recoils like a skittish puppy when I reach to bait his hook, and I raise my palms.
“Just wrap it around the hook and push it through so it doesn’t fall off.” His expression is anxious as he looks at me. It’s time we cleared something up. “I’m not going to touch you.”
His whole body jerks at my words. “What?”
“You heard me. I’m not into boys. You don’t have to worry.” One thing I remember clearly is how everyone tiptoed around talking about the abuse when it was discovered. Whispers of the incident or what happened to Airen echoing around me. Relatives looking at me with pity and asking, “How are you doing?” as if I had some terminal disease. Sometimes, the direct approach is best.
“Troy’s been fucking talking about me!” he snaps.
“A little. I don’t know the details, and I’m not going to ask. It was your life they fucked with. It’s up to you what you want people to know.”
“I’m not gay.”
“Didn’t think you were,” I reply evenly.
“The hell do you know?” he mumbles, staring at the water. Christ, if there’s ever anyone who needs to hear, it’s this furious brooding kid.
“I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone, not even my wife, so please don’t rat me out.” Raising his eyebrows, he waits for me to continue. “I was raped when I was ten years old.” I almost choke on the words I haven’t said aloud for over twenty years.
Sammy fidgets and stares at the bottom of the boat. “By a man?”
“Yes, and he kept at me for four years before my parents found out.”
“Did he go to jail?”
“No, he got away with it.”
“Is that why you like guys now?” Fuck, kid. Way to nail the problem.
“Honestly, I don’t know. Sometimes, I think it changed me.”
“I don’t want to be gay.” Swallowing, he looks away from me, struggling to keep his voice steady.
“Do you think you are? Are you attracted to boys, or are you only worried because of what happened?”
“I’m not attracted to anyone.”
“I’m the wrong person to ask when it comes to this, Sammy. I struggle with it, too. I wonder if I’d want Joseph if I wasn’t damaged, and if it’s fair to him to be with someone who is too screwed up to know what came naturally and what’s a side effect of abuse. I can tell you no matter who you end up loving, there’s nothing wrong with being gay, bisexual, or straight. Joseph’s one of the best human beings I’ve ever met.”
A shudder runs through him, and he nods, chewing his lip. “I don’t know how anyone could want to…what they do…it hurts. Bad.”
A lump forms in my throat, but I let my anger override it. Pity is the last thing he needs. “Not all gay men have sex that way, and there’s a big difference when it’s consensual. Are you uncomfortable around Troy and Nic?”
“I was at first, but they have each other. I don’t think they’d try anything.”
“The guy who raped me had a wife. Most pedophiles aren’t gay. They’re sick fucking perverts who want to hurt kids. Gay, bi, straight…doesn’t matter. The man who hurt you…”
“Men,” he whispers, shamefaced.
“Men,” I correct myself, digging my fingernails into my palms to control my anger. “Did they sleep with each other?”
After considering it for a moment, he responds, “No, just the women.”
“You were hurt by straight men just like I was. I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to be afraid of Nic and Troy. They care about you, and they want to help. Bad enough to drive through two states to recruit us to help.”
“Who asked them to?” he snaps.
“Nobody. That’s why you should quit being a jerk to them. They don’t want anything from you. They care. You deserve it. Deal with it. The world’s an alligator just waiting to chomp down on your ass and roll you until you drown. We all need a family to make it through.”
“Do you need a hand down from your soap box?” His tone lightens, and the corners of his mouth twitch up. Carson would love this kid.
“Almost, smart ass. Troy’s been through a lot of shit, too, and he was messed up for awhile. You should talk to him.”
“I’ve seen the scars on his back.”
“Not all scars are visible.”
He nods and his eyes widen as his bobber dips below the surface. “I got one!”
“You got a nibble. Wait and see if it dips again. If it does, jerk the line hard to hook him.” Minutes later, he reels in a good sized large mouth bass. “Hold him still while I pull the hook out.”
“Aw! He’s slimy!”
“You would be too if you lived in a pond.” The fish slips from his hands and flops around the bottom of the boat. Sammy grabs at it repeatedly, shrieking and laughing as it dances around our feet. I’m thrilled to see him act his age. When he gets a good hold on it, I notice Troy standing at the edge of the pond, watching.
“I got one!” Sammy shouts, holding up his catch. Troy gives him a thumbs up, and Sammy beams. “What kind is it?” he asks.
“Large mouthed bass. See how these two fins aren’t connected?” I ask, pointing out the spiny and dorsal fins. “That means it’s a large mouth. If they’re connected, you have a spotted bass. They both taste good.”
“I’m going to catch a spotted one next,” he gushes, and I hide my grin as I toss his catch into the cooler. I practically have to drag him off the water at dinnertime, but we have a cooler full of fish. “Can we do this again?” he asks while I show him how to clean the fish. He’s a bright kid and he learns fast.
“Sure. Troy also likes to fish. I’m sure he’d like to join you. You know, after we leave.”
“Think so?”
“Yep.”
I’m gathering firewood, trying to hurry while I still have a little light, when Troy approaches me. “Did you lobotomize the kid?”
“What?”
“Sammy. He’s playing cards with Nic and laughing. I’ve never heard him laugh. He asked if I’d go fishing with him.”
“He had fun today.”
“It’s more than that. He took a shower without asking Diane to stand guard. What did you say to him?”
Shit. “I told him you and Nic are trustworthy men that wouldn’t hurt him.”
“Not that I don’t appreciate it, Airen, but why would he believe you? You just met. I’ve tried to get through to him for weeks. Why does he trust you?”
“I can relate.”
Shock widens his eyes. “Oh, well, thanks for talking to him.”
“Can I give you some advice?”
Troy nods, and I focus on stacking the wood as I speak. “Be direct with him. I know you’re trying to spare his feelings, but the whispers when he leaves the room don’t help. Don’t press him to talk about it. Let him come to you. When he gives you an opportunity, share what happened to you if you can. He won’t feel so alone.”
“I will,” he promises.
“Don’t touch him. Don’t hug him. Stick to high fives and handshakes until he shows he can handle more. Most importantly, teach him. He feels like a scared kid. Powerless. Learning to fish, hunt, shoot…whatever, gives him confidence and control, makes him feel like a man. He’s smart as hell.”
“I’ve noticed. I’ve tried to get him to do things like that and so has Nic, but he refuses.”
“Because he’s scared
you’ll get him alone and try to fuck him. It’s nothing personal, Troy, just what he’s known. He’ll come around.”
Troy nods. “I hope so.”
It’s time to change the subject. “Did you get the ammo?”
“Yeah, we’ll meet you after lunch tomorrow.”
The sound of Sammy’s laughter makes me smile as I head for our RV. I wonder if Abby’s in bed yet. I hope she’s not asleep. I have the sudden desire to pin her to the bed and watch her eyes go all dreamy when I make her come for me.
Abby’s back is to me when I step through the door. “How was your day, sweetheart?” Hair fanning in an arc around her, she spins to face me and I know something’s wrong.
Abby’s wide terrified eyes accost me, her face contorted with anger and shame. “Where did you get this?” she shrieks, brandishing a bright purple notebook.
Fuck. Joseph hid that real well. “It was left on my chair this morning. I assume Jon left it there for us to find.”
“Did you read it?” Her voice is hard as granite and laced with panic. Joseph enters and steps up behind me, but she barely registers his presence. “Airen, damn it! Did you read it?” she shouts.
I’m not going to lie to her. “Just the first couple of pages. When we realized it was a diary, your diary, I put it away. I was going to talk to you about it.”
Her gaze darts to Joseph. “He said ‘we’. You…read it too?”
“Yes, I’m sorry, ladybug. We didn’t realize.” Weighed down with guilt, his voice thick with remorse, he reaches for her, but she jerks away and darts outside. I’m almost out the door when Joseph grabs my arm. “Give her a minute. She’s embarrassed.”
“No. She needs to know it doesn’t matter, that nothing in her past is going to affect our future. Trust me on this one.”
After staring at me for a few seconds, he nods, and we chase after our girl. “Fuck! Where is she?” he shouts. A sudden splash draws our attention to the pond where ripples of silver cascade outward across the surface. If not for the full moon, we’d never have seen her wading out beside the dock, tearing sheet after sheet from her notebook.
She’s chest deep, surrounded by floating paper by the time we reach the shore. Kicking off my shoes and shedding my shirt, I plunge into the cold water. Alerted by the splash, she turns and screams, “Get Away!” Her body quakes with deep heart breaking sobs and she takes a few more steps forward until the ground disappears beneath her, dropping her into the black water.
“Abby!” My spine turns to ice and my stomach churns as I make my way to the spot she went under. Vaguely, I hear splashing behind me as Joseph rushes in. “Abby!” I scream again before ducking below the surface. I can’t see a goddamn thing! Water strains through my fingers as I sweep the area, feeling for her. Seconds later she pops up a few feet away, coughing and crying hysterically, still clutching the notebook. My heart starts beating again and I grab her around the waist, tugging her back until her feet can touch the bottom.
She barely acknowledges me in her obsession over the notebook. It’s soaked through and the old paper dissolves rapidly as she shreds it, sobbing, turning her pain to pulp and burying it in the cold water of a small Missouri pond.
“Let her finish,” I tell Joseph when he urges her toward the shore. We stand in the waist deep water until the last page turns to mush. Abby offers only a token resistance when I press my hand against the small of her back to lead her out of the water. “It’s gone, sweetheart. Let’s get you dry.” Her sobs have subsided, leaving only an occasional hitch in her breathing. She hisses when her bare feet hit the gravel driveway.
“I got you, baby,” Joseph murmurs, picking her up and cradling her against his chest. She doesn’t say a word as he carries her to our RV, dries her hair, and strips off her wet clothes. After pulling on a pair of panties and one of my t-shirts, she crawls into bed. Joseph spoons up behind her, and she rests her head on my chest.
“We need to talk about this, ladybug.”
Rolling to her back, she stares at the ceiling, her voice a defeated whisper. “You weren’t supposed to see, to know how crazy I was.”
Her forehead is cool against my lips. “Not crazy, sweetheart. Depressed.”
“It’s not me anymore.”
“We know, baby.”
“He’s not going to stop until you hate me.”
“Never going to happen,” Joseph says, wrapping an arm around her waist.
“I’ll be dealing with Jon, Abigail. Don’t worry.” He’s going to end up rotting in the woods if he doesn’t stop fucking with her. The only thing that’s stopped me is the fact that he’s Carson’s dad.
“Please don’t. You’ll just make things worse.”
“We’ll figure it out, darlin’. Get some sleep.”
* * * *
A bitter self righteous laugh makes me cringe. “Been waiting for me, haven’t you? Fuckin dirty little brat. Quit fighting. You love it. Hard as a goddamn rock.” The sour smell of old whiskey, sweat, and cigarettes turns my stomach. His fingers are in me. I can’t stop him. I can’t stop it. “Soon, I’m going to give you my cock, and you’ll love it too. Make you come harder than this.”
Craig’s dark hair lightens to blond, his face thins, morphing into Joseph’s concerned stare. “Wake up, you’re dreaming.” Joseph’s fingers run down my bare chest.
“Get off me!” My stomach churns, threatening to erupt. I can still smell him on me and I barely make it outside before the remains of my dinner hit the ground. Fuck. Abby stands at the door, and Joseph approaches me as I remain bent over, hands on my knees, waiting to see if my stomach is done heaving. The night air cools my sweat soaked body, raising goose bumps on my skin.
“Airen, what is it? What were you dreaming?” Joseph asks, reaching for me.
“Don’t touch me.” I see the hurt flash in his eyes, but I’m not really here. Not really seeing him. I’m ten years old again. A filthy boy drowning in shame. Scenes repeat in my head, a highlight reel of humiliation and pain. Motel rooms and backstage hideaways, dressing rooms and limousines. Oh God, if they knew. If Abby knew. My stomach flips again before slowly righting itself. I have to get out of here. Jerking away from Joseph, I dart past Abby into the RV. They follow me inside, watching me cautiously as I dress.
“Air, slow down. You don’t have to talk about it. Just sit down.” She hands me a cold bottle of water while I gargle mouthwash to kill the taste of vomit.
“I have to get some air.” Without giving them a chance to respond, I’m out the door, jogging toward the pond.
The water shimmers in the moonlight, reflecting a mass of stars sprayed across the night sky. Tonight, they hold no magic or beauty. Each pinpoint of light a desolate lonely crystal. Glazed chunks of ice as large as the one that’s settled in my stomach. I can’t do this anymore. I was wrong to ever think I could be with a man after him. After he showed me what I was.
What kind of sick kid likes an old man’s skinny yellowed fingers in his ass? It made me sick, I didn’t want him to touch me. Didn’t want him near me. I wanted to tell someone, make it stop before he followed through with his promise to fuck me. His response to my threat to expose him still covers me in a blanket of shame.
“Are you going to tell your mom? Tell her how you came all over my hand? How you always come? Why are you hard right now? Because you want it. You can’t get enough. You tell I tell, and who do you think the world will believe?”
He was a well known talent manager, and I was a middle class brat with only my looks going for me. My mom had given up everything to give me this opportunity, and if she found out what I’d done with it, done with him…
A soft blanket lands on my shoulders and the smell of coconut chases away the smell of him. Abby sits beside me in the grass, sliding her arm beneath mine and leaning her head on my shoulder. She doesn’t ask questions or press me to talk, only holds my arm and stares into the quickly approaching dawn. It’s such a comfort, having her close, but the thought of her le
arning what happened to me, or worse, how I didn’t fight it, fills me with terror.
I know what I have to do and she’s going to be so pissed, but it’s Joseph I’m really worried about. He’s going to hate me. “I can’t do this anymore, darlin’.”
Warm arms slip around my middle and I pull her blanket up over her shoulders. “Do what?”
“This relationship…Joseph…I can’t.”
She gasps as if she’s been punched in the stomach. “Are you breaking up with me?” she whispers, pulling away. Oh Fuck. I should’ve worded that better. Terrified eyes, dark in the pre-dawn gloom gaze into mine as I cup her face in my hands.
“No. Never, Abigail. Do you hear me? I’m sorry if I made you think that for even a second.”
“Then I don’t understand. You don’t want Joseph in the relationship? Are you…do you not like him being with me?”
She thinks I’m jealous, that I want her all to myself. “No, darlin’. Joseph loves you, and you two are good for each other, but I can’t be with him anymore. Your relationship with him won’t change, I promise. You’ll still be his girl, and my wife.”
“You don’t mean it. You’re upset, whatever that nightmare was about…”
“Doesn’t matter,” I interject.
“The fuck it doesn’t!” Joseph exclaims, stepping up from behind us. “If you’re dumping me, I’m at least owed an explanation.”
Shit. This isn’t how I wanted to do this. “Joey, I’m sorry. I am. But I can’t…can’t be with you like this.”
“You don’t love me?”
“You know I do, but I…shouldn’t. I’m not…it’s not for the right reasons. I’m fucked up.” I don’t know what to say. I can’t tell him the truth. Sorry, Joey, but every time you touch me, I see his face. The man who showed me I was nasty on the inside, no matter how I looked. That a box of sewage wrapped in golden ribbons is still filth. Right or wrong, I love this man, and I won’t hurt him any more than I have to.
Joseph kneels in front of us. “Airen, just tell me what’s messing with your head. You can’t just end it. You’re freaking out from a nightmare, I get it, but you’ll feel different when you’ve had some time…”