Until it does.
I’ve been here for an hour now, showing up early like always, hoping that what happened in the bathroom earlier wasn’t enough to change the routine of things and that I would catch her when she got off the bus like always.
My appointment is in fifteen minutes and she’s not here. I’ve watched at least fifteen buses go by and none of them stopped at our regular stop. Not one single person got off and the more of them that go by the more it hurts.
A physical pain but not one caused by what Tim did to me earlier. It’s a pain that’s present only because of her and the void that her absence brings.
One month.
Four weeks.
Twenty-eight days.
That’s all it took for this girl to come into my life and completely turn it upside down. Take the depressing darkness I’ve been living with and sprinkle it with her bubble gum flavored pixie dust until all I could see was light. Make my heart feel things I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling. Twisting all five senses into a ball until all I can smell, taste, feel, see and hear is her.
The unique vibration that only Amelia Evans can give off. The vibration that’s only for me. No one else.
My chest aches, my head hurts, there’s this all over pain straight through me and nothing I do can take it away. I’m not even entirely sure I want it to go away because if it does, then I’m gonna be back where I started and not feeling anything at all and I never want to be that way again.
It’s all because of her. If I stop feeling, I stop her and I just can’t do that.
Everything that happened in the bathroom, it’s like a movie in my head that I can’t find the stop button for. I can see every single frame and it’s painstakingly clear, like it’s playing in HD, every pixel loud and bright. I don’t know if I love it or hate it.
Stopping her, it was the right thing to do. I’m not sure about anything that happened after it, but I am sure of that. I meant what I said to her. I want her, the way my body was reacting to her touch, to the feel of her tongue when it was wrapped up in mine, wanting isn’t even a strong enough word for what I felt, but I didn’t want it the way it was being handed to me.
When I’m with someone for the first time, it’s not going to be against the bathroom wall of a place that for the past year has been my own personal version of hell. It’s not going to be on the floor either. It won’t be a girl on her knees in front of me, giving me what she thinks I want and getting nothing in return. It won’t be me taking.
If I’m ever lucky enough to be so consumed by someone that we get to the point where making love is inevitable, there won’t be any taking involved. It will be giving, from the both of us and it will be beautiful, simple, yet the most powerful thing in the world.
Two hearts coming together until it becomes one singular beat.
That’s what I want it to be and that’s not what was happening in that bathroom earlier. It was the opposite of that. Her robotic tone of voice when she said she wanted to please me more than enough to prove it. That was her reacting. She was reacting to my jealousy, what she thought I wanted from her in order for her to prove that nothing was going on.
It’s the way she handles things. It’s what that sick father of hers taught her. Her default setting when things turn bad, is to demean herself. To become what he made her to be.
Anyone else in her life might have taken full advantage of that, but what I want with Amelia has nothing to do with the way she looks, her physical beauty, even if it is heart stopping. I want everything else. I want her openness, her smile, the high tempo sound of her laugh when it’s natural. The way she reacts when I tell her what I think of her, how I see her.
I just can’t make her see that and now, she’s off god knows where, away from me and I’m sitting here, the same empty shell I was when she walked away and not having the first clue what to do with everything that keeps going through my head.
She needs to be here. Even if she hates me and never wants to see me again. Her not being here means that she’s in danger, but not from some outside physical force.
From herself.
“Eric, he’s ready for you now.”
Smiling weakly at Rose, thankful for the separation from the road my thoughts are taking, I slink my way down the hall until I’m in his office and I’m throwing the full weight of my body down into the chair across from him, expecting the shocked expression I see on his face the minute he looks at me.
He’s getting a full view of the hell of the last twenty four hours.
“You’re here alone today?”
“Looks like it.”
“Where is Amelia?”
That’s something that’s been happening since the two of us got together. She told him the first time I came in with her that she wanted to be called Amelia and he just adapted to it easily. Hearing him say it now, it makes the stabbing sensation in my chest even worse.
“I—don’t know.” I admit, choking up from the truth and how much I hate it.
“What happened?”
“I think it’s over.”
“What happened to make you think that, Eric?”
“She wanted something with me and I couldn’t do it. I pushed her away because it wasn’t right.”
“Did this take place before or after the reason for the marks on your face?”
“After.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters anymore.”
“Eric, I want you to tell me what took place between you and Amelia. It’s obvious that the way you’re feeling right now stems from that. I do believe it will help if you get it out.”
Nothing is going to help me right now. Well, one thing could help but I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon. Her not showing up here, it’s hard not to see it for something more. I don’t think I’m ever going to see her again.
“Some guy forced himself on her. She had a flashback, something happened with this guy. I saw it and tried to stop it. It was stupid getting involved but you’re always telling me to step out of my comfort zone, right?”
“I have told you that in the past, but I’m sure you realize that I did not mean in it in that way.”
“It doesn’t matter now. It happened. The way he was doing things to her, it was wrong. She’s not…” I stop, not sure how to word what I want to say next. I get the feeling that it wouldn’t even matter what I said, he would still pull it apart. “She’s my girlfriend, not his.”
“What happened next?”
“Kayden and Dillon got involved, stopped it.”
“That’s it?”
“No,” I sigh. “That’s not it. There’s a lot more. Amelia not being here. It’s all my fault.”
“How do you come to that determination?”
“Dillon was the one that got her out of there. Her ex-freaking-boyfriend was the one to save her, stop what Tim wanted to do with her. Not me. I saw them together ya know. Outside. He had his shirt up, showing her his scars or whatever but it looked worse. Then they hugged. It set me off.”
“You were jealous.”
“Yeah, I guess. It pissed me off. I got mad. I wanted to hurt him.”
“Have you ever felt that way before?”
“No. I didn’t know what to do with it. Nothing happened, she stopped anything from happening but the way I reacted, it caused what happened next. I know it.”
“What did happen next?”
“We wanted to be alone, so she took me into the washroom, locked the door. We started kissing, touching…more. Things I’ve never done before.”
“How did it feel, being with Amelia that way?”
I can’t believe he’s asking me this. How does he think it felt? I might be different or whatever, but I’m still a teenage guy. It felt amazing.
“Good, at least at first. Doc, it felt the way it always feels with her.”
“How is that?”
“Am
azing. Perfect. One kiss makes me want more than one and then it turns into me wanting even more, things I don’t think I should want.”
“Eric, what you felt with Amelia, it’s completely normal. I know you do not have much experience with it, but wanting what you did, it’s not wrong. It’s natural.”
“Then why did it feel so wrong?”
“I’m not sure, why don’t you tell me what happened next. It might be able to help me understand why you felt it was wrong.”
“I was feeling her, like her skin. I had my hands under her shirt and it felt okay but she pulled away and started undoing my pants.” I stop here, feeling like I’m saying too much, none of the words feeling right. Admitting all of this to him, it’s wrong, dirty even. He doesn’t want to know this.
“Why did you stop?”
“With Amelia or stop talking?”
“Talking. There’s more, I can tell. Why did you stop?”
“It’s too much to admit. It’s private.”
“How did you react to what she did?”
“I stopped her. Pulled her up. She was on her knees…it was too much. I didn’t want that. I still don’t want that, even if wanting it might make everything right again.”
“You did the right thing, Eric.”
“I know that, but now she’s not here and it doesn’t feel like it.”
“You’re worried about her.”
“Of course I am. You know everything she’s been through just like I do. For some reason she thought that because of the way she was with Dillon, the way I reacted, she had to prove herself to me somehow. She didn’t need to prove a thing.”
“Did you tell her that?”
“I might have. I don’t really remember. I just told her she didn’t have to do it. That I didn’t want it. I pushed her away and she turned on me after that.”
“How so?”
“It was like I was right back at school and the last month didn’t even happen. She called me names, she was so angry and mean, but as much as it hurt hearing the words, I understood it. It wasn’t her talking. It was the past.”
“She went back to the only thing she knew. Her safety.”
“Yeah, exactly.”
“Reacting that way, seeing what she was doing for what it really was and not the way anyone else would have, it speaks volumes Eric.”
“I don’t understand.”
“A couple of months ago, if that same situation would have happened, what would your response have been?”
“She would have broken me. It would have been like last fall all over again.”
“Exactly my point. You reacting differently this time. Being here now instead of at home, locked away in your room, reliving what took place last fall. You’ve come a very long way in a short period of time. You’re making progress.”
Hearing for the first time in five years that I’m making progress, I’m getting better, it’s supposed to make me feel happy but it doesn’t. I don’t really care if I’m progressing or not. All I care about right now is her. I need to know where she is and that she’s safe.
I don’t want her hurting herself again.
“Doc, I need help.”
“With what?”
“Her. I’m scared. I can’t think about anything else right now. I know this session is supposed to be about talking about myself, but I can’t do that.”
“What do you want to do, Eric?”
“I want to tell the truth, but not mine. Hers.”
‘Why?”
“Because if we don’t tell someone what we know, I’m afraid that she’s going to hurt herself.”
He knows what Amelia does to cope and it’s him knowing this and the way I’m reacting right now that I hope makes him understand exactly what it is I need him to do. I know that he wants it to come from her, for her to be the one to stand up and admit what her dad’s been doing, but right now, there’s no time for that.
If the way she bolted from the bathroom means anything, there’s no time for anything anymore. Calling me names, doing what she’s been doing for years, that’s her way of going into herself again. Becoming Amy. If she can do that, then the other thing she does when she can’t handle things, it’s not far behind.
We need to call the police. I need to stop her before she hurts herself so bad that it won’t ever heal. Before she does what I tried and failed to do last fall.
Ending it once and for all.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Amelia
I always knew it was going to end here.
It doesn’t matter how far or how fast I run, it will never be far enough. He will always bring me back and this time is no different.
Ringing the doorbell and dancing back and forth on my feet, impatiently waiting for him to get to the door, swing it open and see me standing here, my stomach flips the minute I see the light turn on inside.
As the door opens, light spilling out onto the step, the large shadow from his body completely covering me, I turn and lift my head until my eyes are locked on his. The same blue eyes as mine, ones that when I was little were so soft and safe, but now scare the living hell out of me.
I know what really lies behind them now and there’s nothing safe about them or the person that wears them.
“Amelia! This is a surprise.”
Yeah I bet it is. After ignoring him for weeks, showing up here without so much as a fight has to be a real shock to his system, but one I’m sure he’ll get over quick the minute he lets me inside and shuts the door.
Talking to Ms. Owens in the office, it didn’t do anything for me. Her words mean nothing. All it did, her preventing me from burning myself was force the reminder of who I really am to the surface even more. What I’ll always be. His angel Amelia. The only person in the entire world that can bring him to his knees. .His pleasure stick. His whore.
His period.
“Can I come in?” I ask, shaking what’s left of the fear away so that my words come out clear and don’t give anything away. I don’t want him to know how weak I am right now, it will only make this worse.
“Of course.” He says, immediately stepping back from the door until I make my way inside, shutting the door softly behind me. “I’m glad you’re here.”
The soft way the words come out makes me shiver, a move he catches as he steps forward, my back to him and places his meaty hands on my shoulder, moving them over, rubbing them. A touch so familiar that I shiver again because my body is reacting and I don’t want it to.
I’m not here for this despite the way it looks. I don’t want him touching me, doing what he’s been doing since I was four. The time for that is over. I’ve gotta end it. I’ve gotta take the control back.
Sliding out from under his hands and turning to face him, I slide the zipper completely down on my hoodie, the minute it’s all the way down, pulling it off completely, letting it fall to the floor behind me. It’s a move that true to his way he takes wrong.
“Oh baby girl, you read my mind.” He says huskily, his feet instantly moving toward me.
Taking a step back I lift my arms in the air until he’s got a full view of what he’s done to me, what he knows I do and what I’ve been hiding from the rest of the world for years. He can think I’m taking my clothes off for him all he wants, but he’s dead wrong.
I’m showing him the real monster he’s created.
“You see this, Dad? These scars on my arms, the way some of them are bleeding? When the memories become too much, I pick them open until the blood pours. You see it? This is what you do to me every single time you lay your hands on me.”
I don’t know how it’s happening but my voice, it’s completely even, no wavering, shaking or stammering the way I expect with the way my heart is beating out of control in my chest. For the first time in ages, I think I finally know what being completely numb is.
I’m living it.
“Stop talking like that. What we have, it’s not ugly.”
No he’s ri
ght. It’s not ugly. It’s disgusting, gross and wrong, but not ugly. I’m the ugly one for keeping it a secret as long as I did. I’m the ugly one for liking it, but right now, I’m the ugly one that’s gonna end it once and for all.
He’s never going to hurt me again.
Sliding my hand into my pants, keeping my eyes trained on him in case he takes another step forward, I pull it out of my pocket, and flipping it up, I watch as his eyes go wide.
If he was surprised when I showed up on his doorstep a few minutes ago, he’s gonna be even more so now.
“Amelia, what are you doing? Why are you holding that?”
That is a Swiss Army knife, something he gave me a few days before my thirteenth birthday. For protection he said. I never understood it at the time, my mind so screwed up at that point that there wasn’t a whole lot that made any sense to me, but I get it now.
He gave me something to use as protection against him and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
“We’ll get to that. Why Tim, Dad?”
His face as he registers what I’m asking, realizing that I know, remember even, it’s a way I’ve never seen him. I don’t think he ever intended for me to remember anything about my time with Tim. All the years that have gone by since it happened, I’m pretty sure he was relieved that I didn’t because he would never have to answer for it.
Too bad. I’m gonna make him answer it now. Before I do what I came here to do.
“Tell me, you sick bastard!”
His eyes lower to the floor and I feel nothing. I just want fucking answers. I want to know how he found Tim and turned him into a monster like him.
“His dad owed me a favor.” He whispers and my stomach turns. The way he’s making it sound is that Tim is innocent and I damn well know that’s not true. Tim isn’t innocent, he wanted what happened. I remember his face, the moans.
“And?”
“It’s amazing how easy it is to get a kid to agree to something when he’s as neglected as Timothy was. He had no problem agreeing. He wanted it even more than I did.”
Dangerously close to throwing up, but not wanting to give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing me break any more than I already have, I accept his explanation and move forward to what has to come next.
Take Me With You Page 25