Beautiful and Broken

by Sara Hubbard

  “Not yet. Hold on for me.”

  He slips out of me and turns me over onto all fours, his hands gliding over my ass. I hang my head, my arms and legs feeling wobbly, like I might collapse onto the bed at any moment. He tugs at my waist and I lean back so his chest is at my back. He cups my breasts just hard enough to make me moan. Then he’s inside of me again. I turn my head to the side and his mouth is on my ear, nibbling and licking. He drives into me, first slow and delicate and then quick and fast. The alternating pace brings me to the edge and then reels me back.

  “Please. I can’t take it. Please.”

  I can’t hold on any longer. My whole body explodes in an ecstasy that makes every muscle in my body clench and unclench. I jerk against him and he pounds me harder. Then I come again. Only then does he find his release and with a sigh, his head falls forward to rest on my shoulder. When our breathing slows we slowly fall forward and settle beside each other. I want to put my head on his chest, to be close to him, but he rolls on top of me, holding me tight.

  We stay this way for some time. He’s heavy and I find it hard to breathe under his weight, but I don’t dare move him. I’m too scared to do anything for fear he’ll retreat again. I don’t need him. I want him. I think that was the difference with Jason. I needed him. He was all I knew, and he made damn sure I stayed under his thumb. With Sawyer, he lets me take the lead, and I love him for that.

  I love him.

  I run my fingers through his short hair and caress his back. His quiet snores come next and I try desperately to move out from under him. As if he can sense it, he rolls off. I cuddle up to him. I’m not tired but I find myself drifting off, dreaming of him.

  ***

  He’s staring straight at me when I open my eyes. I blink and smile at him. He doesn’t smile back. Something’s on his mind. I reach out and touch his face.

  “I was eleven when my mother first met Howard Davis. He was nice at first. I think he wanted me to like him so my mother would marry him.” He licks his lips and studies me.

  I take his hand and, with my eyes, encourage him to continue.

  “They married a month later. The second the wedding was over, he changed. He was a gambler, and he had a habit of gambling away his checks every pay day and not coming home. When he spent his money, he would try and take my mother’s. She fought him and he hit her. Just once. Begged and pleaded with her not to leave and told her he’d never do it again. I wasn’t there, but she told me about it. I went to him and threatened him.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He put me in the hospital, but when the cops and social services were called I thought they’d take me from my mother, and I couldn’t leave her alone with him. So I told them I got beat up at school. It wasn’t a stretch. Kids were always picking on me at that age. That was before I filled out.” His stare becomes dark. “After that, he was careful to hit my mother in me in places on our bodies where no one could see it. He’d hit her, and I’d try to stop it and get beat myself. I tried to get her to leave him, but she said she loved him. Can you imagine? Love can make you stay with someone who could treat you like that?”

  “Is that why you don’t do relationships?”

  He nods. “She loved me, and she kept me in that situation. There’s a kind of love that’s fucked up.”

  I sigh and squeeze his hand. No wonder he’s into quick relationships with no commitment. His only examples of love were people hurting each other to the extremes. Why would he want any part of that? I wouldn’t. It makes sense to me. Now I know why Mr. Thomas said he didn’t know if Sawyer would ever get over his issues.

  “Not all love is like that, Sawyer.”

  “And the man you loved? Look what he did to you.”

  “Bad examples, I know. And I was going to shut myself off to love after Jason, but now I realize that he didn’t love me. He couldn’t have. You don’t do that to someone you love. And I don’t think your mother and stepfather loved each other either. Not really.”

  “What about me? Was that a lie too?”

  “I don’t know. But she didn’t deserve you. She should have protected you, adored you. She was selfish.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “So how did it all end? With your stepfather?”

  “He pulled a gun on my mother. She tried to run out of the house, but he threatened to shoot her. He made us sit at the kitchen table while he screamed, called her a whore and a liar. He thought she was cheating with some guy she worked with at a bar.”

  He shifts and his eyes drop. I can tell the murder is coming and my whole body tenses for what the boy Sawyer had to go through. Nobody should have to suffer what he suffered. And shame on his mother for not trying to get him out of the situation.

  “He pointed the gun to her head and started screaming again. I started crying, told him I would kill him if he didn’t put the gun down. He laughed at me and hit me with the gun. I fell off the chair and then he pulled the trigger, but it didn’t go off…I lunged for him. We struggled. I was bigger by then so I could actually wrestle with him. I had a chance. I manage to free the gun from his hands. I pointed it to his head. You’re fucking dead, I said.

  “I heard the sirens. The neighbors probably called them. They’d done it a half dozen times before. I was done with his bullshit and him hitting my mother. He would have killed her if the gun had gone off. I couldn’t let it go on any longer. So I shot him. And I shot him again, and again, and again, and again until all eight bullets in the revolver were cemented into his body. And I didn’t feel guilty about it. It was me and my mom, or him.”

  “Why did it go to trial? You were a kid, and there was a history of abuse.”

  “I was big by then, almost as big as I am now. Soon after the beatings began, I started working out. I thought if I could get to be as big as my stepfather, I could protect my mother. I worked out, grew a few inches. Then I started getting in a lot of fights. Over stupid stuff. Some, I picked—most of them, probably. I looked intimidating even then. And when they asked why I didn’t just point the gun at him and wait for the cops—because I admitted I heard them coming—I told them I wanted it to be over. I wanted him dead. And there you have it. Second degree murder. I plead not guilty because my lawyer convinced me it was self-defense. Even if they hadn’t fucked up the evidence, I would never have been convicted. My lawyer said everyone would feel sympathy for me. I didn’t want anyone’s sympathy. I was just glad it was over.”

  “And your mother?”

  “Thew me to the wolves. Said I killed her husband and she would never forgive me for it.”

  “I’m so sorry, Sawyer.”

  I lean in to kiss him, but he stops me. “Just…give me a minute.”

  I nod, my head rubbing against the pillow.

  “Now you know what happened.”

  “And the fighting? It’s just letting off steam?”

  “I like fighting. Boxing is a good way to do it without having to be punished. I crave it. That’s fucked up, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe,” I shrug. “But you found a positive way to deal with it. And for the most part, I find you calm and sweet. I don’t think it’s as big a part of you as you think. You don’t need to be strong to face your demons. It’s over now.”

  “Is it? And what do you think of me?”

  “I…thought I loved you before. Now I know. I’m in love with you, Sawyer. In the way a person should love another. I want to make you happy. I want to make you smile. And I want to make you believe that not everyone who says they love you will hurt you.”

  He leans in for a single kiss that is long, but not long enough. I would touch my lips to his all night if he’d let me. When he pulls away, I feel like the smile I’m wearing is insanely goofy, but I can’t control it.

  “Thank you for telling me about your past.”

  “Thank you for telling me you love me.”

  “You’re welcome,” I whisper.

  “I’m not sure I have it in me
to love someone,” he says.

  “It doesn’t matter. I love you. You don’t have to love me back. I’m just happy you’re not pushing me away.”

  He sits up and rakes his hands through his hair. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  “Want some company?”

  He rubs my leg. “No. I think I’m okay on my own.”

  As he walks away, I worry my lip between my teeth. Something about this moment feels wrong. “Sawyer, we’re okay, right?”

  He forces a smile and heads into the bathroom.

  Twenty-one

  I PUSH MY pencil further into my sharpener and daydream to the sound of the mechanical churning. My pencil is almost down to the eraser. In fact, all of my pencils look the same now. Sighing, I keep pushing.

  “Alright,” Sophie says, pulling me from my thoughts. She turns in her chair to face me. “What gives? Normally, I wouldn’t care about what’s going on in your life, but if I hear you sharpen one more pencil I’m going to break my keyboard over your head.”

  I sigh. “Nothing.” It’s nothing. Sure it is. It’s been over a week since I’ve seen Sawyer. He’s back at training and after some serious fandangling, he found another trainer. The guy isn’t as good as his first one, but his first one won’t even talk to him so he didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter.

  He’s avoided me since the ‘I love you’ conversation, and I’m trying not to push him. He’ll talk to me on the phone, but not for long. And he always has a reason not to see me. Usually it’s training, but his big fight is in a couple of weeks so maybe it’s the truth.

  Maybe.

  Sophie walks around her desk and snatches my pencil sharpener. She rips the cover off and takes out the batteries before tossing all the pieces in the trash. “Enough, okay?”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  Mr. Hersey’s door swings open and he comes out of the office. He personally hands me an envelope.

  “What’s this?”

  “The commission check from Sawyer Davis.”

  “Right. He moved in a few days ago.”

  “Don’t look so depressed. I thought you’d be happy. You can keep your job. But don’t think you’re off the hook. Your track record is awful, and you’ll have to do better than this if you’re going to make it here.”

  I stare up at him. He talks to me like I’m a complete failure. I take a stand and, smiling, I say, “Thank you. I quit.”

  “What? You can’t quit.”

  “I think I just did.”

  “Too bad, you’re fired.”

  I roll my eyes at him. “You know, I hated this job from the moment I started here.”

  “Don’t expect a reference,” he says.

  I laugh without humor. “Of course not. You wouldn’t even recommend me to a client—why would I expect you to recommend me to another employer?”

  I look over my desk and grab the cactus I bought on my first day of work. This feels good. My boss is a douche and I’m happy to be out from under this thumb. When I leave the office, I don’t look back. Onward and upward. Only…to what?

  I tear the check open and my eyes bulge out of my head. Fifteen grand. Wow. I could consider what I’m going to do with the money, but all I see is Sawyer moving into his new home and not wanting me to help him. What does that mean?

  “Maybe he doesn’t need space,” I complain to Amy at her office. “Maybe this is it. Maybe he doesn’t have the heart to tell me.”

  “He unloaded all his history on you. I don’t think he would have told you if he was going anywhere.” She flips through pages of a file in front of her.

  “This feels like the end.”

  “So give up, then.”

  “Amy!”

  “What do you want me to say? Fight for him. Isn’t that what you want?”

  It is.

  Charlie knocks on the open door and walks in. “I asked you for that report yesterday and you still haven’t given it to me.”

  “Keep talking to me like you’re my boss or it’s not the only thing I won’t be giving to you.”

  He frowns. “Don’t say you’re going to help if you’re not going to.”

  “You’re such a fucking woman.” She groans as she pulls her drawer out. Then she tosses the file across the room.

  “Thank you,” he says.

  She gives him the finger.

  He frowns at her, but then I hear him chuckling as he walks away.

  “What is that about?”

  She rolls her eyes. “We’re dating. Exclusively.”

  “What? That’s great!”

  “Yeah. Whatever. I don’t want to talk about it. It’ll only jinx it.”

  I smile and cross the room to hug her.

  “Uh. Always with the hugs.”

  “I love you,” I tell her.

  “Me too. But enough of this. I really don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Okay. Topic officially closed.”

  “So I have some good news for you…”

  I take a seat across from her. This sounds good.

  “Mia and I have been chatting since you made up, and we devised a plan to get the charges against Sawyer dropped.”

  “Tell me!”

  “Charlie was in on it too. At any rate, we’ve been taking turns following Jason. We caught him having an affair with one of his client’s girlfriends. The one from the night of your dinner.”

  “What? Those guys are connected!”

  “Exactly. When Jason got the pictures and my phone number he called right away. Turns out he values his life enough to talk to the DA. Charlie heard from Sawyer this morning—don’t repeat that because he’s a client—and the charges have been dropped."

  “I’m so happy for him!”

  “I knew you would be. But…why are you frowning?”

  “He never called to tell me.”

  ***

  No job. No boyfriend. I’m not sure what to do with myself. I take a page out of Sawyer’s book and go to the gym. Not his gym, a different one. It’s not like I could afford his anyway. I heard the fees are in the hundreds—and that’s monthly. At any rate, I know it’s better to stay clear of him while he goes through all this.

  A couple of weeks later, I’ve lost eight pounds. I’m thin—maybe too thin, but I’m eating right and I feel better so it’s all good. I even drag Amy with me a couple of times. She spends her time beating up a punching bag and I wonder why it is that Sawyer and her never dated.

  Sawyer.

  I miss him. The ache it still there. I’m not sure it will ever go away. And Jason… I miss the idea of what we had. But him? Not so much. I’ve seen him around town. He’s dating some girl with obviously fake boobs and not-so-natural blond hair and a fake bake. Is this his type now? Someone unsatisfied with her real self? Was that who I was? I don’t know. When we see each other I get a nod, maybe a wave, but we don’t speak. There’s too much history there and the wounds are too fresh. I can’t forgive him for wanting to ruin Sawyer just to keep me single. And I don’t believe he did it because he thinks I deserve better. I think he did it because he thought of me as a possession. If he couldn’t have me, then no one else would. Damn my happiness.

  I walk out of the gym one day in early January. It’s cold. No snow, but there’s a sheen of frost over the ground and the buildings and cars. I zip my jacket up a little higher and shove my hands in my mittens. My backpack falls from my shoulder and I hike it up.

  Time for some coffee. And some job hunting.

  I sit at Forever Coffee Time at a high table, my feet dangling from the bar stool-esque chair. I sip my coffee while I search the want ads. There’s nothing that interests me. Secretary, real estate agent—I roll my eyes at that one, good in theory, Molly—fast food attendant, accountant, lawyer…nothing that fits. I have no idea what to do with my life and my money is dwindling. Amy said I can stay with her as long as I want and I don’t have to pay rent, but I won’t do that to her. It’s not right. And I should be paying more than m
y share because the last couple of weeks, she’s barely there. She practically lives at Charlie’s now. I smile, happy for her. It took a lot for her to open up to him. And she seems happier for it.

  I keep perusing. Hmm. Dog walker. Why not? I pull out my phone and within minutes, I have an interview for a service where you go to a client’s home and play with and walk their dogs while they’re at work, or just plain busy. It pays, and I need the money. I laugh out loud. My mother will hate it. Sold!

  I circle the ad in purple. If someone asked me in high school where I’d be in five years, never in a million years would I have pictured myself here, doing this.

  “Molly?” A familiar voice says from behind me.

  I spin in my chair and find Mr. Thomas. I don’t know why, but I say hello and hug him. When I pull away, it’s a little awkward. We don’t know each other well enough for me to pull him close like that, but somehow seeing him makes me feel closer to Sawyer.

  He shuffles his feet. “Good to see you too.” He chuckles.

  “Have a seat.”

  He nods and sits opposite me.

  “How are you?” I ask.

  “Oh, you know. Busy, busy, busy.”

  “Of course. My father never used to be home a minute before six o’clock every single day. I imagine it’s still that way.” I smile and take a drink of my coffee, the heat snaking down my throat and chest.

  He points to the circled ad. “Job hunting?”

  “I quit my job.”

  “Oh? Is that good?”

  My smile widens. “Yeah. It is.”

  “So what's on the horizon for you?”

  “Dog walking.”

  He raises his eyebrows at me.

  “I know, I know. Not so glamorous. But I think being around some furry little guys for a while might be just what I need. Besides, I have no idea what I want to do with my life so… why not?”

  “I envy you. Walking dogs seem preferable to my schedule lately.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  He eyes me, almost with a sadness. “The charges were dropped against Sawyer. Did you have something to do with that?”