by Cage, Aria
WE FINISH DINNER AND Charlie’s edgy. It’s clear she doesn’t want to be here, which feels so wrong, considering once here was the only place she felt safe in the world.
But I know better than most that a lot can change. What hasn’t changed though, is the heat between us. I felt it in the hospital, even in my drugged state; there was no way I was staying there knowing she was at Nona’s. I had to be near her again. I had to see if she feels what I feel; the undeniable need to be together, even after everything. I need her, but more than that, I need her to need me.
“Boys, I think Charlie is tired, and Nathan, you need your rest,” Nona announces, gathering the glasses from the table. “David, help me with the dishes before Charlie leaves. Nathan, I will help you to your old room in a minute.”
David does what he’s told without argument; he always does, and I sigh heavily as they leave the room. I love them, and would die for them, but I could have kicked their asses out over half an hour ago. At least Nona’s endless questions gave me some answers, even if most of them were lies. Yeah, Charlie had lied a lot, and it hurt Nona’s feelings, I could see that, but she understands. Charlie has always been complex, and there have been a lot of years for her to bury herself deep.
“So are you going to tell me the truth?” I ask, and try to sit up.
She rushes to me and props my pillow. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t do that. Not to me. There might be a lot of years between our histories; nonetheless, we will always mean more than to bullshit like that.” It takes everything in me not to touch her, but I have to leave it in her court. Men have manipulated and taken too much from her already. I want her to make the choice to touch me first.
She nods, and I pat the edge of the sofa beside me. She chooses to drag the coffee table closer and sit on that instead. At least she didn’t run away, I guess. I hold my hand out, and she looks at it before taking it in hers. One baby step at a time, one choice at a time.
“How are you really?”
She shrugs and smiles a little. Her pink, plump lips are so beautiful; I find it hard not to stare.
“I’m doing okay. I love my job. I’m good at it… usually. I kinda froze when I saw it was you today. I should have left the room if I couldn’t do the job.”
Shit. “Will you get in trouble?”
“No, Paul wasn’t happy, but he’ll come round.”
The boyfriend. The sound of his name makes me sick. Which is pathetic and hypocritical, because I’ve had girlfriends, they just weren’t the one. They weren’t Charlie. It’s hard to keep a relationship alive when you picture another woman while you’re making love.
“Paul,” I say, attempting to hold back the disdain… the jealousy.
She slips her hand from mine, and I regret it right away. I’m a jackass.
“Don’t say his name like that. He’s a good man.”
“Well thank you, Charlotte,” came a stranger’s voice.
“What the fuck?” At the entryway beside Nona was a slim man in a suit with a hard face and a deep frown as he eyes Charlie and then me.
“Nathan, language, please,” Nona chides.
“Sorry, Nona.” I am because she hates cussing, but Jesus H, he scared me and Charlie half to death. He scared her so damn bad she’s shaking. I know who he is; I remember seeing him during my scout of Charlie’s happiness.
“How did you know I was here?” Charlie asks quietly, before rushing to his side. He wraps his arm around her and she cringes. Fucking cringes. She doesn’t move away, but she definitely isn’t comfortable. What in the hell is going on?
“Mister Shaw left the hospital before he could get his medication, personal belongings, and proper care. You told me he was family, so as soon as I heard he unofficially checked himself out, I figured I’d find him, and you, here.” He stopped studying me and begins to regard her. “You didn’t answer your phone, so I came unannounced.”
She doesn’t meet his stare, and that concerns me. The whole thing concerns me. I want to get up off this sofa and… and do what, Dumbass? He is her boyfriend, the man she trusts, the man she―don’t go there. I won’t be able to fucking erase it, if I go there.
I feel I need to help her for some reason. It’s an old feeling I recognize all too well. I don’t like this guy, and it has nothing to do with the fact I’m jealous as all fuck he has her. This is a gut feeling, and over the years I have come to know and trust my gut. I just wish I had summoned the courage to “accidentally” meet him before now.
“I don’t do hospitals or institutions well; I’ll heal better right here,” I say to get his attention away from her, and it works. He clearly doesn’t like me, either, or the fact Charlie is here with me. I hate that we have that in common.
“I bet. I guess prison does that to a man.”
Motherfucker. I push from the sofa and grit against the pain. I’m the same height as Paul, but wider in the chest, fitter. You can thank prison for that, fucker.
“Paul,” Charlie gasps and takes a step from his embrace. “That is uncalled for.”
“I agree, young man. You don’t know the life my grandson has been through for those he loves,” Nona interjects, and I wish she would go back to the kitchen. This guy is an ass, and I don’t want him to upset her. What’s more, I don’t want to upset her.
Paul directs an incredulous glare toward Charlie. “Charlotte, he’s an ex-con. I was just stating a fact. I’m sure he is man enough to own his history.”
“Maybe so,” she says. “But you don’t know his history.” I’m proud and relieved she is standing up for what she believes in, and for me. Though, it concerns me hugely that she allows him to call her Charlotte. He called her Charlotte.
“Funny that. Maybe it’s because you have never mentioned him before. I thought you had no family; well, that’s what you told me. If he didn’t show up in the ER today, would you have told me you had an ex-con brother?”
“Brother?” I say and she whips around and glares at me. Clearly I’m supposed to be her brother and nothing else. Jesus fucking Christ. We are far from siblings.
“I think we all just need to calm down now,” Nona’s strong voice breaks through. “We are all tired and our emotions are high. Charlie, dear, it was wonderful to catch up again.” Nona actually starts to usher Charlie and Paul out the entryway. She may be getting old, and her long hair now completely white, but she has an inner ballsy attitude and won’t take shit.
“Wait,” I call, taking a step and forget the coffee table is there and stumble. Charlie calls out for me to stop, but it was too late. I brace myself on my hands and feel the searing heat in my shoulder making me hiss and fall back to the sofa, panting.
Charlie’s by my side, lifting my shirt, checking my wound. “You’re damn lucky,” she hisses.
“I doubt that,” I say into her hair, breathing her in.
Charlie breathes against my neck as she leans closer, her cheek touches mine, and instead of a kiss that my heart raps for, she whispers in my ear. “Please. I will come by tomorrow. Just stay, rest, and say no more.” Then, just like that, she turns and is back at Paul’s side.
Paul wears a satisfied smirk, hands over a paper bag to Nona, then places a possessive hand on Charlie’s back. I want to punch him so much, it scares me.
“The instructions for his medication are in there with his personal artifacts. Make sure he takes them so he doesn’t have to return to the hospital. He should see his practitioner in a few days, though, and change his dressing twice a day for the first three days. Then just once a day should be sufficient.”
“Thank you,” Nona says, without true feeling, while I stare at the one woman I have ever loved walk out the door with the biggest chump I’ve ever met.
“Thanks, Nona,” Charlie says, and kisses her cheek before being ushered out the front door and out of my sight.
Nona watches them depart before closing the front door. She then heads my way with concern etched into every wrinkle. �
�I don’t like that man,” she declares.
“Neither do I, Nona. Neither do I. I’m worried about her.”
“I’m more worried about you.” She sits on the coffee table where Charlie sat, and I sigh and flop back into the old, soft sofa I’d spent many a night on.
“There’s nothing to worry about, Nona. I’m fine. Just see what drugs I unquestionably need, and I will heal in no time. I think I need to sleep for a week, though. I’m so damn tired.”
“I’m not talking about your body, Son. I’m talking about your heart.”
I nod, because I knew what she meant. “Yeah well, it’s way too late for my heart.” I gave that to her long ago.
I’M SILENT ALL THE way home, but worse than that, Paul is silent, and silence means nothing good.
I hate when he’s like this. Normally not by my doing. I go out of my way to assure it’s never from me, but tonight got out of hand in many ways. Paul will want answers, and if he doesn’t get them, I will be punished. It’s as simple as that.
I need to change his mood before we get home; I have to please him before it’s too late. I reach across the center console and touch his tight leg; it flinches under my touch and he moves away from me. I pull away swiftly and wring my hands.
“I’m sorry, Paul.”
He tightens his grip on the wheel, and I wish I could have driven myself home instead of leaving my car at Nona’s. I tried to implore sense, but he was adamant that he would send someone for it in the morning. I don’t like not having my car, my freedom, but I wasn’t going to argue with him. I already stepped over that line when I defended Nate.
“Paul. Will you please speak to me?”
He looks at me, his face stone. “You embarrassed me tonight.” He then turns back to the road and me to my fear. That was all I was going to get for now. Paul has closed off to me, and for good reason. I shouldn’t have embarrassed him. I’m supposed to be quiet and do what I’m told. They are easy rules to obey for a safe life. He loves me; he loves me a lot. Paul just shows it differently. We all do.
Daddy loved me; Nate loved me; both completely different to the other, and I them. I miss my father even though he hurt me. I miss Nate, but I refuse to continue hurting him, and now I hurt Paul. My life is like a hurt locker, filled to the brim with the anguish I cause.
We pull up to Paul’s. He says it’s our home, but nothing in there is mine. I brought my belongings, but most remain in boxes in the shed. I don’t mind, but it will never be home. The garage door opens, and we pull in slowly and meticulously, just like Paul. My body is shaking; it aches against the spasm as I keep a keen eye on Paul’s hands. I know what’s to come. I just don’t know when. That is a different kind of punishment.
The garage door closes behind the car, and I cringe when he moves. But he opens his door and steps from the car, slamming the door behind him. Something in me wants me to stay in the car. Something deeper wants me to grab the spare set of keys from my bag and ram through the garage door back to Nona, back to Nate.
What I do, is get out of the car and follow the stream of light that shines from the utility room. He isn’t there waiting for me. He isn’t in the living room either, and as I approach the hall, I see his office door is closed, only allowing a sliver of light to shine from underneath.
My body sags in a sigh as I head for the bathroom and shut the door quietly behind me. I don’t lock it, because he doesn’t like that, and I’d rather not tempt fate.
I don’t look in the mirror; I hate myself enough right now. I’m disgusting, and I’m a whore. I wanted Nate to touch me tonight. I want to love his body like an animal, like an adult would with little regard to rules. I’m so sick of rules even though they keep me safe. I’m so sick of hating myself, but that never stops. I strip and turn the water to the shower on, not caring that it’s too hot. The scalding water is a relief to my inner pain. I welcome the external version. I need the punishing Paul will grace me with.
Under the scalding water, I wash the day away, and only stop to think about what I’m doing to my body when my nipples peak and I am panting against the pull in my belly. With soapy hands, I run them over the mounds of my body and back into the folds of my heat where my clit is stinging with need. I’m slippery, and it has nothing to do with soap and everything to do with imagining Nate’s fingers working me. I’m about to come, when a cold gush of air rushes across my wet, puckered skin. It’s then swiftly followed by a hard slap to the side of my head, careering me into the tiled wall. I see stars. I see blood droplets run with the water down the white tiles, mixing into the drain.
“Who are you thinking about when you do that, Charlotte?”
I’m shaking and bleeding, and too scared to utter a word even though silence is just as bad.
“Are you thinking about him? Your fucking foster brother? That’s repulsive! Vile!”
“No!” I scream the lie, cowering in the corner of the tiles.
“Fucking lying bitch. You never move like that for me; you don’t moan my name or ripple beneath me. You don’t even get wet. If I don’t lube you, you’d rip us both to shreds with how dried up you are.”
“Paul, please.” I know what I have to do even though I don’t want to. But he needs assurance; he needs to be pleased. I crawl to him, the water pummelling my back, my brain reeling against the pain. At his feet, I twist the fabric of his trousers in my fingers, silently begging for forgiveness. It’s not enough to help me; he kicks me in the ribs, and I fall back on my backside, trying to get a breath before my whimper erupts.
“What makes you think I want your dirty, fucking whore fingers on me?”
He has never been this mad at me, never. I want to plead for his forgiveness; I want him to hold me and hush my tears with his soft words I know will eventually come. They always do after he loses his temper. He hushes me, tells me he loves me, kisses me and makes me promise not to make him mad again. I want this part to hurry up.
I fight against the fear of him lashing out again. I push to my knees and then to my feet, palming the slick tiles for support as I take a step. My eyes keep to the floor where a slow red drip descends, mixing with the clear water. I take another hesitant step, until I see his shoes. I close my eyes, lift my head and wait for the onslaught. It will be one or the other. He will hit, or he will hold.
A few tense seconds later and I find myself being pulled into his arms and lifted from the floor.
I don’t open my eyes; I tuck my head into his chest and let him take me where he wants, which is always to his bedroom. He pulls me onto his lap and holds me as the relief of tears falls freely. He won’t hurt me now. He will hold me like I’m his treasure and comfort me. He hushes me and strokes my wet hair, stroking my wet body, ruining his suit. He loves me; I know he does as he kisses me. I’m safe again.
“I’m so sorry, love. I was jealous. You made me so mad, and then when I saw you doing that to yourself, I lost it.”
“I’m sorry.” I weep, snuggling harder into him.
“Hush now, Charlotte.” He kisses my head, and I feel his demeanor change again. His body stiffens under me and I know what’s coming. It’s the only time he pushes to have me. The only time I don’t fight him or make excuses, because I want him to be happy. So I will let him have what he wants from me.
Once again, in my mind, I’m back in the garage before I had Nate.
Sitting on Paul’s lap, he brushes the skin of my ribs and hip until he finds my thighs. They tremble as he parts them with one hand, and the other then grabs me, thrusting a finger inside me. I’m still wet from thinking about Nate, and I whimper under his intrusion. I don’t move; I never do. I just allow, like I learned when I was five.
TOMORROW IS THE DAY Daddy will call me to the garage, and he is getting needier. I don’t know why he is changing; he hasn’t changed his routine in ten years. But last time, he shocked us both. He had a video camera. He wanted more. It wasn’t stroking and kissing and loving anymore. He asked me if I was a virgin be
fore I had even taken my clothes off. I was taken aback and speechless as I gaped at Daddy and then Nate. Nate held hate in his eyes. He hated Daddy, and some part of me did, too. But Daddy needed me, and I needed him, so I would do this one thing for him.
Lately Nate and I had come to love each other almost every day. We touched, we kissed, we tasted, and dry-humped when we were alone, because we couldn’t get enough of one another. We didn’t have Daddy choreographing our moves and motives; we loved one another for our own pleasure and needs. But we hadn’t taken that final step yet, we were damn close, but not yet.
“Nate. I’m scared.”
He pulls me tight against him and kisses my temple. A light breeze rustles the leaves above. “I know, babe. Just think of us, not him, not his new toy, just us, and you will get through this.”
“I will. I always do. It’s the only way I get through it now. I wish we were little again when all I thought about was pleasing Daddy, when I didn’t think anything we did was wrong.”
“We aren’t doing anything wrong, Charlie. He is.” He takes a deep breath, calming himself.
“Then why won’t you make love to me?”
“You know why. I told you. I don’t want to take that last gift from you until you’re ready.”
“I am. I’m ready.” I plead, turning to face him and taking his face in my hands. “Nathan Shaw, I am ready for you to make love to me.”
He sighs and closes his eyes. “I’m not.”
My gasp is silent, but he sees it and screws up his face. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, wishing I hadn’t pushed him. He does enough for me which he doesn’t want to do.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s my hang-up, not yours.”
I nod and my eyes well with sad tears. I have taken so much, and I don’t want to take anymore.
“Please come with us,” he asks for the millionth time.
Nona, Davey, and Nate are going to a service for one of the residents of Willow Lakes. That’s where Nona and Davey go on those Thursdays, where other Down syndrome and disabled people live their lives and learn to look after themselves. But I won’t go, because now I need to figure out how to save Nate from me and my life.