by Criss Copp
“I was assaulted.”
“MOTHERFUCKING BULLSHIT.” Silas screams away from the phone.
“Who assaulted you Isi?” he shouts
I look over to where Ethan is now being driven away.
“Ethan.”
“What did he do to you?” He seethes.
“He tried to abduct me.”
And then the connection is broken.
“Ben.” I shout, just as they’re about to close the doors.
He throws his head up, “Silas?”
“Yeah, he hung up.”
“Fuck.”
Silas.
Panic, heightened emotion and rage are pushing me to get over to the May Sedgwick Respite Facility and I am resultantly riding like a complete maniac, but I need to find Ethan and I really, really must eliminate him or screw him up for good.
I ride past Ben and I immediately notice in my mirror the smoke from his tires as he squeals to a halt in the middle of Chorro Street; so of course I realize he’s seen me and is turning around right now with the intent of preventing me from killing the cocksucker.
I can’t stop; I’m so angry that I’m not particularly seeing straight. But I’m planning; I’m planning how I can get into the facility and get to him. I’m thinking about letting him live… I want him to hurt for a long, long time. I want him to feel pain, so no… death is kind, and it’s not for him.
I charge up the Cabrillo Highway, get off at Madonna Road and continue along Los Osos Valley Road. Ben will catch up in a second. I’ve already violated several speeding zones, but I know he will too, so time is not on my side because he’s the superior rider.
I take all corners by cutting them sharply from here on in, and I narrowly miss a couple of oncoming vehicles and slow walking pedestrians.
When I finally get to the facility, I pull up as close as I can to the main doors.
I don’t walk, I run. I have no helmet to throw off; I didn’t bother to put one on. I’m not wearing a jacket and I still have sneakers on.
I’m one foot away from pounding on the glass and hopefully smashing it.
“Silas.”
I momentarily freeze and then whirl around to see Dr. Jensen seated on the bench seat to the side of the main doorway.
I don’t reply. I just stare at her and breathe huge gulping lungfulls of air.
“Don’t smash my doors please.” She says and smiles.
I’m so angry right now.
I should smash the doors.
I should burn the whole motherfucking place to the ground.
“He’s not here.” She says.
“Where the fuck is he?” I shout.
“In jail.”
“What the fuck? I want to kill him. No, no, actually I want to fuck him up so badly that he’ll feel immense pain for the remainder of his motherfucking life.” I scream.
“I know, I kind of do too.”
What?
I just stand there. She looks so calm.
She’s fucking smiling at me for God’s sake and patting the seat beside her.
Ben pulls up on his Ducati, and he’s off in a flash; pulling off his helmet and storming across to prevent me from doing something stupid.
“Ben, feel free to pull up a chair; Silas was just about to sit and have a chat with me.” She indicates the free standing chairs on the far side of the tiled entrance.
He’s breathing hard too. But he does precisely what she asks him to. And despite my burning need to paint the walls with Ethan’s blood, I find myself sitting down as well.
“Silas, would you like to know the first time I wanted to hurt someone? I mean really hurt someone like you want to right now? Cruelly?” She begins.
I nod and sit down. He’s not here anyway. I’ll let her talk for a bit, and then I’ll go find him in county, I already know where it is. He’s not going anywhere.
“It was the height of the Vietnam War and I was a spring chicken of a girl, the same age as you are now in fact. I was in a Hospital in Saigon, and I’d just helped a soldier recover from serious wounds and he was due to go home, however he chose to suicide before he was returned. My superior asked me to dump his body in a makeshift morgue, and I was to forget that I’d spent weeks assisting him to get better. He was 18 years old and I’d grown sincerely fond of him.” She sighs.
“I wasn’t angry at him. I was angry at the system, at the war and at the Government. I was therefore angry at my superior. I wanted to tear him to pieces and throw him in the air like confetti for being so cold-hearted and unfeeling.”
“What did you do?” I find myself asking through my rage.
“I broke two knuckles from punching a Kapok tree and then continued to assist with wounded and dying soldiers despite it.”
“How did you manage to do that?”
“I channeled the rage into something else. I wanted to make some changes; so I began to counsel the troops as I cleaned their wounds, attended to their needs or assisted them in death. I never had a soldier suicide while in my care after that. I’m not sure if that continued after they returned home, but I take some small comfort in knowing that they were well cared for in that shitty excuse for a hospital.” She says smiling.
“Did you ever want to do it again; I mean hurt someone cruelly?” I choke.
“Oh yes.”
I look at this wonderful older woman and despite my rage, I want her to tell me more.
“I lost a daughter and I wanted to kill God. I lost my faith because of it. I still have issues with religion.” She points out.
Holy shit, perhaps she hates Ethan as much as I do.
She certainly knows pain; she’s felt more pain than I have. I’ve never lost a child.
“I can’t seem to help spiraling out of control.” I shout out. “I just want to hurt him so much.”
“This is not a manic rage Silas. You have been peaceful and calm for the last month. I have seen no indication that you have been escalating. This is normal run of the mill heartbreaking anger.” She states.
I kind of know that. Because if this was my mania, I wouldn’t have been able to stop and turn around; and she would’ve immediately looked like the enemy. In addition, all my movements haven’t exactly been spontaneous and peculiar. They’ve been predictable and well thought out.
I lower my face into my hands and bend over my knees.
I feel her hand on my back, travelling up and down my spine in a gentle, soothing pattern.
“I’m so angry.” I holler.
“I am too. He’s an asshole of the highest order.” She states calmly.
I attempt to reign in my temper for Dr. Jensen’s sake, so I breathe before talking again.
“I’m confused. It’s always been my rage and mania that has driven me into anger. This isn’t something I understand. Was I only angry when Shae left?” I ask.
“From what I read no. You were certainly in a mania. But then Silas, you had been escalating according to family and witnesses for a period of time before the incident. During the incident, you were hallucinating and intent on cutting your heart out and sending it express post to the girl you wanted. I can tell you now; it’s not normal to think you can cut out your heart and continue to walk around before heading to the local post office.”
I’m so fucking embarrassed about that.
“Tell me Silas. Are you arguing with Logan?”
“No. I haven’t really heard from him in a while.”
“That’s a good sign then, isn’t it?”
“I suppose. But then why is this need to crucify Ethan so hard to put aside?” I ask gruffly.
“Let me use a hypothetical situation to help with this. A single father finds his daughter raped in her bedroom at night, and he can only just see the rapist running from the scene in the distance too far away for him to catch him. Now, is his need to run that bastard down and flay him a justified anger?” she asks.
“Of course he’s fucking justified.” I growl.
“A
nd almost everyone in the world would agree.”
“Do you agree?”
“Yes, I definitely agree that feeling that way is justified. What I’m more concerned about is how that feeling is acted upon.”
“What do you mean?”
“Is the father running off to flay that rapist more important than attending to his bleeding and broken daughter; who is so far traumatized by the experience that she’ll now struggle to properly recover? What do you think Silas?”
“I think I’m glad Ethan is already caught, because I need to find Isi and look after her instead of wasting time trying to find him.” I groan.
“Good answer.”
“However, if he wasn’t found, I’d look after Isi and then spend an inordinate amount of time looking for him later so I could fuck him up for good.” I clarify.
“It’s a start.” Dr. Jensen sighs.
Ben looks over to me and places his face in his hands.
Dr. Jensen isn’t finished with me though; I can tell she has something else to say.
I give her my questioning stare.
She sighs again.
“Silas, as much as I know you’re not having a manic episode now; it’s very important that you learn how to deal with stress. Stress is a major trigger for you to lead into mania.”
“I know.”
“So, you need to use your skills that you learn in therapy to calm your thoughts and feelings. You need to channel that negative emotion away from you, so you can remain healthy. This is really important Silas. It’s really important that if you can’t avoid heightened stressful situations that you at least learn how to control your responses to them.”
I nod.
“I’ll put all my effort into the trial hearing for Isi.” I growl.
“Supporting Isobelle would be nice.” She agrees.
“I’m looking forward to coming face to face with Ethan at the courthouse so I can bash his face in.” I explain.
Dr. Jensen groans, but I feel a growl emerging and so she remains silent. I’m doing my best and she shouldn’t expect miracles from me. My instinct is to fuck him up to the best of my ability, and until I totally calm down that feeling will remain insitu. Hell, maybe it won’t ever go away.
***
Ben asked me to follow him to the hospital, because I wasn’t sure where it was.
Now we’re standing in the waiting room, waiting for Isi. It’s fucking agony.
“So you tackled him?” I ask.
“Yes. I tackled him off her and punched him in the face.”
“Did you break his jaw?”
“I dislocated it.”
“Good.” I applaud his effort.
“She’s a pretty girl.”
“Yes, she is.” I answer, while sort of smiling and looking at my feet.
It’s so weird.
Anger. Anger that can materialize and then fade just as fast; and yet still remain so that I’m able to concentrate and focus regardless. I wonder how many times I have just been angry and felt it was more because I just didn’t understand?
“I like her. I really like her.” Ben says.
“I think I’ve fallen for her.” I voice.
“I’m sure it wouldn’t be a hard thing to do.”
“No, it wasn’t hard at all.”
Chapter 9: Slow and Steady
Isi.
My shoulder is so sore.
My elbows are sore.
My wrists and ankles are bruised.
But I kind of don’t care right now, because the smell of Silas lying directly in front of me and facing me is intoxicating and surreal.
I feel him shift frequently, since he keeps leaning up and watching me; I guess he’s checking to be sure I’m okay.
It’s just this one night and then I have to go back to the halfway house or lose my place.
The CBT has been going so well. After one week of early morning group sessions and applying what I’m given; I’ve learned a lot about how to deal with the anxiety that builds up under certain circumstances. I’m facing life again, rather than hiding from it. I don’t want to leave ‘Harrington House’ as yet. I at least want to finish the sessions over the next two weeks, it’s seriously been the best therapy I’ve ever had.
Silas is shifting again, which means he’s looking me over again. I feel his eyes looking at me and then I hear his sigh. I can’t help a slight smile appearing across my lips.
“Isi? I know you’re sore, but I really want to kiss you.”
Instantly my heart starts hammering in my chest. We’re in the guestroom of Ben and Jade’s house; and he’s left a nightlight on for me in the room so I can see my way around if I need to get up. I open my eyes and look directly into his beautiful ones. The soft light is like a burst of moonlight in the otherwise dark room. It allows me to see him in soft blue/white tones that make him appear transcendental, like an archangel; beautiful, alluring and dangerous. His naked chest is mere inches from me. His chiseled jaw has been cleanly shaven, and the smooth angles have me desperate to glide my tongue slowly across them and taste him.
“Okay.” I whisper, my heart in my throat beating an unsteady rhythm.
He reaches out with his hand and places the tips of his fingers underneath my chin; slowly lifting it, and positioning my lips forward. At the same time he shuffles up and leans his face in till he lightly brushes his lips against mine. I close my eyes and the light caress of his lips sends shivers through my body and I’m fighting my sore arms not to engage and pull him to me, but the pain would be acute and ruin this beautiful moment.
Silas presses in slightly harder, beginning to move his mouth the barest minimum; yet it elicits a burning molten pool of lava in my pelvis. A soft, gentle whimper escapes my throat and Silas breaths in hard through his nose, yet remains focused on being gentle.
His tongue emerges to lightly trace between my slightly open lips, and I find myself opening my mouth further in an invitation for him to proceed with this kiss. His tongue does a gentle sweep of my lips once again, before tentatively exploring further into my mouth and engaging my tongue.
The moment my tongue tastes him and is sliding against his, I’m lost to him completely. He’s barely touching me, but he may as well be caressing every inch of my body with his silken tongue and lips. I feel my moan travel up from inside and sound into my mouth where he joins it with a throaty, sensual growl. I want to reach down with my good arm and feel him, but I won’t… not until I can be consumed entirely by him and devour him in return. Only then will I explore him that way. This kiss, this sweet, beautiful and sexy consummation of our developing feelings is like a sweet promise of what we’ll have; I sigh into Silas’ mouth and he deepens the kiss further still.
Not once has he moved beyond the boundaries of touching my face, yet this smoldering kiss has harvested fires that are now bursting into heated infernos underneath my skin and throughout my entire body.
I have never been kissed with such sincere passion and need. I have never before felt such a deep and meaningful connection. I want to stay here forever. I want to taste more.
The emotion Silas invokes with his kiss is completely soul defining. He is consuming the essence that is me and then replacing it with the essence that is him. It feels like he is magically strumming the core of my being and teaching me to love again, and I want him so badly it could make me cry. I want to claim him for me; I want his innocent anger, his wanton lust and his devotion… I want it all.
I feel him shift his body up as he lifts his chest up and I slightly twist so he can lean over me more and press me back into the pillows, though not enough to hurt. If I wasn’t wounded, we’d be taking this to the next level as we’d be without the ability to prevent the desperate need to tumble down into each other.
Silas.
Kissing this woman is like melting into one being with her. I feel like I’ve found home, the place I’m meant to be.
I shouldn’t think about Shae, but I can’t help but
briefly compare this moment to the many hundreds of moments I have experienced in the past.
I know we have the capacity to experience the most amazing and passionate lovemaking, I can feel the electricity surging between us; even in this sweet and innocent kiss that threatens to spill over into burning passion. But there’s one thing that makes this developing relationship already trump my previous one. I had always felt Shae was my world, and at the time she was. However, Isi is exceedingly fast becoming my universe. We share the common denominator of completely understanding each other and being able to feel the sincere perceptive acceptance of our individual composition. It is a connection I can’t believe I was willing to live without. That complete understanding and acceptance from the person you love, it’s intoxicating. And with the experience now well within my reach, I’m salivating to secure it with both hands and hold onto it; like an oxygen mask delivering me life saving breaths, while I navigate the cavernous depths of an ocean of emotion.
I’m devouring her mouth and claiming her for me. I’m tasting her and wishing I could taste every inch of her. She’s whimpering, and we’re barely even touching except for our mouths and my hand on her face.
I’m hovering over her and I’m struggling to contain my desire and my complete need to feel her wrapped around me as I’m buried within her. The denial of these strong and desperate emotions has me shaking. A shuddering breath emits forth from my lungs and I know I must stop now or be unable to prevent myself from claiming her completely.
I release her mouth and place my forehead against hers.
“Oh.” I whimper.
We’re both struggling to breathe. I need to tell her how I feel, but I’m scared it’s still too soon for her to hear, despite the obvious connection we already share.
I breathe.
My body is swamped with an aching enthusiasm to pursue the rapture. My hips are straining to move against her and my penis is desperate to have her.
I shudder.
“Silas.” She whispers.
I can’t talk immediately, I can only breathe. So I look directly at her in her eyes.