Take Me There

by M. C. Decker

  “You can take my bed if you want it. I’ll sleep on the floor,” Parker said after we’d finished watching the movie.

  “You don’t have to do that. I brought my sleeping bag with me,” I said, pointing toward the corner of the room where my plaid sleeping bag sat with the rest of my things.

  “Don’t fight me on this, Ashlynn. No girlfriend of mine is going to sleep on the floor. We can share the bed if you want, though?” he suggested with a wink.

  “Parker Andrew! You know I’m not that kind of girl!” I yelled, swatting him on the arm.

  “I know, I know! I was only kidding! I would never pressure you into doing something that you didn’t feel was right. You know that, right?”

  “I know you wouldn’t. I trust you,” I said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “I’m going to go get ready for bed. I’ll meet you back in your bedroom.”

  After spending several minutes in the bathroom, brushing my teeth and changing into my pajamas, I opened the door to a dimly lit hallway. Knowing my way around the Flynns’ house, I didn’t bother to turn on a light before tip-toeing out into the hall.

  “Why are you being so quiet?” Kyle asked, standing in his bedroom doorway. Kyle moved back to his parents’ house after graduating from business college nearly a year ago. He’d recently accepted a position as a manager at a local hotel, but Parker had said he wasn’t making enough to get a place of his own yet.

  “Shit, Kyle, you scared me! Don’t you know it’s not nice to creep up on girls in the dark–especially on Halloween!”

  “Sorry, Ash,” he said, walking toward me. “Have I told you before how pretty I think you are?”

  “Kyle Flynn! Are you drunk?” I asked, his breath smelling of alcohol.

  “Only for you, Beautiful,” he said, falling into me.

  “OK, Kyle. I think you need to go back into your bedroom, and sleep it off,” I suggested.

  “Yeah? Will you help me to bed? I think I’m drunk,” he said.

  “That’s for sure,” I sighed, leading him back to his bedroom.

  “So, you like my brother, huh?” He stuttered.

  “Of course, I like your brother. What kind of question is that?” I asked, defensively.

  “I bet you really like me more. I’m a man, Ashlynn. Parker is just a boy with so much to learn. I can give you so much more.”

  “Kyle, you’re embarrassing yourself,” I said as he plopped down into his bed, pulling me with him.

  “Say you want me, Ashlynn. Say it!” he demanded, pulling the strap of my tank top down, exposing my bare chest.

  “Kyle, you’re my boyfriend’s brother. Why are you doing this?” I asked, realizing I hadn’t actually told him no. “Parker is going to come in here looking for me any minute now,” I said, praying he’d walk through the door. This was wrong. Why wasn’t I demanding he let me go?

  “Ha! Parker has been asleep since the minute his head hit the pillow. I made sure he was sleeping before I came looking for you,” he admitted, pinning me beneath him.

  “I saw you kissing him earlier. Was he your first kiss?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I responded, squirming under his weight.

  “Looks like it’s going to be a night of many firsts for you then, Pretty Girl. I bet you’ll like it dirty,” he said, slipping a hand down my pajama bottoms.

  “My body betrayed me that night. I hated what he was taking from me—what he was doing to me, but some sick part of me liked it. As much as I knew it was wrong, I liked it. I liked the way he made me feel inside. I fucking liked it, Carson!” I confessed, surprised when he didn’t push me away for being a vile person. “I ended up going home that night because I knew I couldn’t be in that house–not with him. Not with either of them. I went home and took a shower, hoping to wash the demons away. I cried on the shower floor for over an hour. I vowed then to never let my body betray me again. As a punishment and out of guilt for liking what he’d done to me, I would never again let myself feel pleasure from sex. To this day, I’ve kept that promise to myself. No matter how much I may want it.”

  Carson held me in silence for a moment longer as I gathered my composure. “It’s a good thing that bastard is buried six feet below us because I’d probably kill him myself,” Carson growled after I’d come clean and told him the gruesome details of that night.

  “I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me now,” I cried.

  “Why would you say that? Kyle Flynn took advantage of a fifteen-year-old girl. He should’ve spent the last years of his life behind bars. Why didn’t you tell anyone sooner?”

  “I was ashamed. I never told him ‘no.’ I let him do those things to me,” I said, tears streaming down my cheeks.

  “And, you’ve kept these secrets locked up inside since that night? Not even telling Parker?” Carson asked.

  “God no. It would’ve killed him. He looked up to Kyle. He would’ve been devastated,” I said, the memories of that awful night flooding back.

  “Thank you for trusting me with your secrets. I don’t intend on fixing you, but if you let me I think we can begin to heal–together. I’m all in, Ashlynn,” he said, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. “What do you say we go sit in the car where it’s warmer? If you want to talk more, that’s fine. If not, I can take you home.”

  “I think that sounds perfect,” I said, allowing him to help me get up. We walked together back to our cars, never looking back.

  Carson

  GETTING INTO THE car, I cranked up the heat to full blast before turning to face Ashlynn who was wiping the tears from her eyes.

  “Do you want to talk about it anymore? Or would you like a ride home? I don’t think you should be driving,” I said out of concern.

  “No, it’s OK. We can talk more. I’m sure you have so many questions,” she said, nervously biting her lip.

  “Like I told you before, I don’t want to pressure you. You can tell me whenever and whatever you’d like,” I said, taking her hand in mine.

  “No, it’s OK. I want you to know. Ask me anything,” she said, taking a deep breath.

  “OK, as long as you’re sure. If anything makes you uncomfortable you tell me–anything at all,” I assured her.

  “OK, I promise, I’ll tell you,” she agreed.

  “OK, well you mentioned you were punishing yourself? Never allowing yourself to feel pleasure during sex? Was that just with Parker? Is that why you two divorced?”

  “It started with Parker, yes. I never told him about that night, so I had to go on pretending as nothing had changed between the two of us. Truthfully, everything changed that night. Every time I looked at him, I would see his brother’s eyes. Every time he spoke, I would hear his brother’s voice,” she said with pain in her voice.

  Grabbing her hand more firmly to show my support, I asked her another question–not knowing if I was truly ready for the answer. “And, after Parker?” I asked.

  She sighed uneasily before answering. “Well, I’m not a born-again virgin, if that’s what you’re asking. It’d probably be better if that were the case,” she exhaled. “After Parker and I got divorced, I thought maybe I could finally try to heal. It’d been years since that Halloween night, and I thought, just maybe, I was ready to move past it. I really tried to enjoy sex. Honestly, I probably tried too hard. I’m not proud of the woman I became–having more meaningless sex than I ever care to admit. As a counselor, I should’ve definitely known it was wrong–known the dangers. And, I do, but I didn’t care.”

  She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. Not knowing what to say, and not wanting to come across as too judgmental, I gave her the time she needed to gather herself. Truthfully, I needed the silence to collect my own thoughts as well.

  “Don’t worry, I’m safe and I do get tested regularly,” she continued, knowing the physician in me was concerned about her health.

  “So, you’re still punishing yourself for feeling something that night even though you want to move past
it?”

  “That pretty much sums it up. I’ve even tried every self-pleasure device in the complete sex toy catalog. You should see my full treasure chest in the bedroom. I bet it’d even make a sex therapist blush,” she said, a hint of a smile forming on her lips.

  As much as I was trying to keep this conversation platonic, the thought of Ashlynn pleasuring herself was causing a strain in my pants.

  “Are you sure you’re using them right?” I muttered rather thoughtlessly.

  “Of course,” she laughed, her cheeks slightly reddening. “I might not have become a fancy specialist such as yourself, but I did manage to pass one or two anatomy classes–with A’s, might I add.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just blurt out like that,” I apologized. “I must’ve come across as insensitive to your plight. I just know a thing or two about how to please a woman–professionally speaking, of course.”

  “Well, if you’re offering your ‘professional’ assistance,” she said, flirtatiously.

  “Ashlynn, don’t say what you don’t mean,” I warned, reaching up to loosen my tie only to realize I wasn’t wearing one.

  “Getting hot over there, Doc?” she sassed.

  “Maybe just a little,” I said, turning down the heat.

  “Carson, I can guarantee you one thing. Since that day, I’m in control of what I want, and I never say something I don’t mean,” she said, squeezing my hand. “Now, would you like to go back to my place where we can finish this conversation? We can order takeout or something. I’m just ready to leave this place–and Kyle Flynn–in the past.”

  “I think that sounds like a perfect idea,” I said with a feeling of satisfaction in my voice.

  I’d all but insisted on leaving Ashlynn's car at the cemetery, and driving her back to her place, but she assured me that she’d be fine. After several minutes of arguing back and forth, I reluctantly agreed.

  Stopping at Franny’s for a pizza and before meeting Ashlynn back at her house, I sat in the car for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. I had to make sure I was there for Ashlynn in a way she’d never experienced before. She’d dropped a lot for me to take in back at the cemetery, and although it was difficult to hear, I was relieved that she’d finally let me in. I couldn’t let her run away–not again.

  “Hey Franny, can I get a large pepperoni pizza with extra cheese?” I asked, waving at Joe who was busily preparing orders back in the kitchen.

  “A large?” she questioned, raising her brow. “I hope you’re sharing it with the pretty gal I met the other day. She seemed like a genuine, young lady, Carson.”

  “Yes, it’s for Ashlynn. And, yes, she’s pretty great.”

  “Carson Foster, I think you’re smitten. I haven’t seen you like this in years. I’m so happy to see that gleam in your eyes again. Your mother would be so proud of you if she were still with us.”

  “Thanks Franny, I sure hope so,” I said, losing myself in memories of my mother.

  “Something else on your mind, Carson?” Franny asked, always being able to read my brother and me.

  “Marissa has finally been accepted by that facility in Minneapolis. They offered me a position at the nearby hospital. In fact, I was supposed to be there right now finalizing everything and signing my contract. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time.”

  “That’s great, Sugar. But why do I have a feeling it’s not what you still want?”

  “I do, it’s just I haven’t told Ashlynn about her yet. I wasn’t quite sure how to tell her. It’s never seemed like the right time to dredge up our past,” I explained. “I haven’t told her about the new job yet either.”

  “Carson, you know you’re like a son to Joe and me, right?” she asked.

  “Yes, I know. And, I love you both for it,” I said with a faint smile.

  “Then you’ll understand when I give it to you straight? You know the only things I go around sugar-coating are my famous Christmas cookies now,” Franny said.

  “Let me hear it, Franny,” I replied.

  “Miss Ashlynn deserves to know your past. It shaped the man you are today, you know,” she advised. “She also deserves to know what your plans are for the future, Carson.”

  “I know you’re right, but it’s been a long road to get her to finally open up to me. I’d hate to lose her now because of something like this.”

  “If it’s meant to be, then you won’t lose her,” she said, patting the top of my hand.

  “Thanks, Franny. You always know what to say even if I may not want to hear it.”

  “Comes with age, Sugar,” she said, grinning. “Now let me check to see if Joe has that pizza ready yet.” Before she had time to step into the kitchen, Joe came through the swinging doors holding a large pizza box and a brown paper bag.

  “Here you go, Son. I threw in an order of garlic bread and two pieces of strawberry rhubarb pie. Franny just baked it fresh today,” Joe said, handing over the food.

  “Thanks, guys. How much do I owe you for everything? And, don’t say nothing.”

  “Nothing,” they both said in unison.

  “You two will never listen,” I laughed, tossing two twenty-dollar bills on the counter.

  Carson

  PULLING UP INTO Ashlynn’s driveway, I was pleased to see she’d made it home safely. I wouldn’t know what I’d do if anything happened to her. Even though she’d told me some pretty troubling things about her past, I knew I still needed her in my life–after all, we’d both been hiding some skeletons in our closets. Stepping out of the vehicle, I grabbed the pizza and beer from the back. Realizing what Franny said was only right, I knew I had to tell Ashlynn about my mother, my past with Marissa, and my impending job out-of-state.

  “One of these days, you’re going to let me take you on a proper date,” I said, as she opened the door.

  “You brought beer and pizza! What could possibly be more proper than that?” Ashlynn quipped, taking the piping hot boxes from my hands.

  “Oh, I don’t know–dinner and a movie? Dancing? Wine tasting? A hot-air balloon ride over Sedona?” I joked.

  “Sedona? That seems pretty specific. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you saw that date on ‘The Bachelor,’” she giggled.

  “What can I say? It’s my guilty pleasure. Plus, I heard the chicks dig it,” I laughed with a shrug.

  “Well, you heard right. I dig it,” she said, raising her hand.

  “Already so much in common then,” I teased. “Tell me you watch ‘Monday Night Football’ and we’ll be the perfect pair.

  “Mmmm, sorry, I think you’re on your own there, Doc. Besides, any true Bachelor fan knows the two programs are on at the same time.”

  “Caught me, but there’s always DVR,” I said, shrugging.

  Remembering where Ashlynn kept her paper plates, I took out a few from the cupboard as she opened two beer bottles. Sitting down at the table, we both grabbed two slices of pizza.

  “What are you doing with those boxes in the corner?” I asked inquisitively.

  “Oh, I dragged my Christmas decorations up from the basement. I thought maybe you could help put my tree up,” she said with a smile before taking a small sip of beer.

  “You want to put up your Christmas tree? You do realize it’s not even Thanksgiving yet?”

  “I’m aware,” she said sheepishly. “Honestly, I usually put it up the day after Halloween. It’s very therapeutic for me. I just didn’t feel like it this year–with everything that’s happened between us. Honestly, I guess I was hoping that eventually you’d be here helping me.”

  “How can I say no then?” I asked, overjoyed that she was letting me into her life.

  “Well, I mean, you could, but then I’d have to throw this stocking at you,” she laughed, rolling it into a tight ball.

  “OK, OK, I concede. Where do I start?” I asked, covering my face in mock defense.

  “Let’s eat the pizza before it gets cold and then you can help me carry the rest of
the boxes up from the basement.”

  “There are more?” I questioned.

  “Oh yeah. Probably at least twenty!”

  “Twenty boxes of Christmas decorations?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Yeah. Why? Is that a lot?” she said, taking a bite of pizza.

  “Yeah, I’d say. Unless your name is Elf and you live at the North Pole with Santa.” I joked.

  “Hardly,” she laughed. “I’ve just always really liked Christmas. My mom really gets into it too. It’s one of the few things we seem to agree on. Every year on the weekend before Christmas we spend two entire days baking. Well, I do more of the eating while she does the baking, but it’s still one of my favorite times of the year,” she reminisced.

  “That sounds nice. You and your mom don’t always get along?” I asked, hoping my question wouldn’t offend her. Truthfully, it always shocked me when there were rifts between parents and their children. I would do anything to have my mother back with Camden and me. We may not have had many possessions growing up, but Mom definitely made up for it by showing us her love. I hoped that I would have that same type of relationship with my own children someday.

  “We do. She just tends to nag me about everything and both my parents took it really hard when Parker and I divorced. I can’t wait to see what they say when I take you to meet them,” she said, grinning.

  “Yeah? You’re taking me to meet your parents now? I’d say that’s a pretty big step, Miss Sommers.”

  Suddenly seeming unsure of herself, she tried backtracking. “I didn’t mean tomorrow. Just, never mind. You don’t have to meet them if you don’t want to. I don’t know what I was thinking,” she mumbled.

  “Ashlynn,” I said, reaching for her hand across the table. “Of course, I’d love to meet your parents. In fact, you could call them over right now,” I offered, hoping it would calm her nerves.