by W Winters
“John won’t listen to me,” Jay says. “He just shuts me down and he doesn’t hear it.”
“You talk to him often?” I ask him as I pick at the hem of my nightgown, each little bit of information helps me to understand.
Jay clears his throat roughly and looks away from me and toward the window. My throat closes, hating how much this wounds him.
“That’s fine,” I tell him to try to reassure him. “I understand, Jay.” I keep my voice light and calm, feigning a casual air about such a serious conversation. “You know I’d never judge you.” I try to speak the words calmly, but they're quiet at the end as the anguish rises and my throat seems to close. My shoulders rise slowly as I take in a deep steadying breath and close my eyes.
“He won’t be able to deny you,” Jay says and his words make my eyes open. He licks his lips as soon as my eyes reach his, and they draw my focus to his mouth.
My body heats, and I feel nothing but ashamed. The desire is there; I can’t help it. But I’m ashamed that in this moment I want to comfort him in a primitive way. I have to tear my eyes away as I ask, “So you need me to tell him about our past? You can see why that scares me, can’t you?”
He shakes his head and says, “You don’t have to tell him anything you don’t want to.” My eyes flick back to his as he swallows and adds, “I just thought hearing it from you would help.”
“Since he won’t listen to you,” I say as if it’s a question, but it’s only to clarify what I already know. I try my best to hide the genuine fear of revealing anything to John. But I fail at it, miserably.
A hesitant breath leaves me and I try to beg him one last time, “We should go-”
He cuts me off before I can finish and says, “I’ll protect you. Always. I’ll be there.”
Always. The word is the final dagger. “You can’t promise me that.” I lower my head as the words slip out and I lose my sense of composure. I rest my head in my hands, my fingers spearing through my hair and I rock forward slightly. I’m not normally like this. The last time was my final session with Marie.
She reminded me so much of Jay. So much of me. So much of what we’d been through.
But this is nothing like what that poor girl went through. There’s only so much a person can be pushed. Only so much pain they can handle before they break. She wouldn’t take the medication I prescribed, and she couldn’t turn off the nightmares.
I can’t break down again. I can’t let what happened to Marie happen to Jay. I have to be strong for those who can’t. I failed her.
“I can, and I will. Please, little bird, my Robin.” Jay rises and crawls to me. I peek up through my lashes, wet with the promise of tears that I hold back.
I don’t resist him when he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his lap. I stay still, not reaching up like I did when I was a child. He’d hold me if I promised not to hold him back.
But his grip on me is so different now. Everything is different.
The way the warmth of his strong body envelops me and heats my blood.
The way our breath mingles and begs me to arch my neck and press my lips against his.
The way I lean into his chest and breathe in his scent. He’s slow to react when I place my hand on his thigh. He shushes me, cautiously, as if he’s not sure that’s what he wants to do. Slowly, he bends forward and kisses my neck.
This is so horribly wrong.
I need to be stronger than this. Stronger for Jay.
“How does this end?” I ask him.
He gives me a sad smile. “I don’t know, little bird,” he says looking down at me. “I don’t know what will happen when he finds out.”
I start to answer him, but the moment my lips open with a quick breath, he cuts me off.
“You need to go to bed.”
“Can I sleep with you?” I ask him although I hate myself for it. I crave his comfort, and I know he craves mine. He gently pushes a strand of hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear, looking at me all the while with a tortured gaze.
“I want to touch you,” Jay says and the sadness in his voice is outweighed by desire.
“Then touch me,” I whisper, but it only cues him to stand, leaving me on the floor and staring up at him, the hope dimming with each passing second.
“I don’t trust myself,” he finally says and I shake my head, wiping the sleep and misery from my eyes.
The shame overwhelms me again. I’m so fucked up and broken for wanting him, but I do, so badly. Jay’s hand grips my chin, forcing me to look up at him although the touch is comforting.
“It’s not you, Robin,” he tells me and before I can answer him with a sarcastic remark he says, “I want to make it hurt.” His eyes are dark as he lets his hand fall. He turns his back to me as I let his words sink in. The muscles in his broad shoulders ripple in the dim light as he walks away from me, leaving me behind and he says with finality, “Now go to bed.”
Chapter 15
Robin
I roll over with a groan. The click of a door opening and closing wakes me from my sleep. My eyes hurt, and my head feels heavy. I didn’t sleep enough, but the second I come to, I don’t want to sleep.
Jay. I make a move to get off the bed, but my leg hits something hot and heavy.
I almost scream at the sight of Toby on the sheets, his jaws opening wide with a yawn. It’s a lazy yawn, as if there’s not a damn thing wrong in this dog’s life. He stretches on the bed as I slowly creep away, my heart beating fast even though I repeat to myself over and over that it’s okay. Not all dogs are the same. Just like people.
“He doesn’t want to hurt me,” I whisper with my eyes closed and when I open them, he’s staring back at me.
I notice the flecks of yellow in his chocolate brown eyes. His tongue laps along his sharp teeth and it’s all I can focus on for a moment, but only a moment before the big beast whines at me. The cry is strange as he whimpers and lowers his head, as if I’ve hurt him.
It takes me a moment, his big eyes on me before I climb off the bed, on the far side of the room. My toes hit the plush carpet and the absence of the warmth of the covers leaves goosebumps down my arms and legs. The silk nightgown is simply too thin for the early morning.
The dog’s head raises and he springs from the bed, his large paws thudding on the floor as he rounds the bed. He watches me for a moment before pacing to the door. He’s anxious as he looks back at me.
I worry that he won’t let me shut the door, that he’ll stay there in the doorway, both keeping me in here and also being too close for comfort. I’ve tried so long to rid myself of the fear of dogs and for a long time, it was bearable. But right now, it’s just too much.
“I’m sorry,” I tell Toby as he looks back at me with those eyes, like he doesn’t know what to do with me or what to think of me.
“It’s not you,” I try to talk to the dog, feeling guilty because of the look in his eyes, but the sound of steady steps approaching stops me mid-thought. My heart sputters and turns in my chest as Toby moves out of the room and to the right toward the living room.
“Robin?” I hear his voice before I see him, and already I know it’s John.
He stops in the doorway, his broad frame filling it, with nothing but denim jeans and a crisp white undershirt on although there’s a black smear, obviously a stain on the lower left side. His boots are already on and I find myself staring at them, my heart aching and my throat going dry.
“Are you alright?” he asks me with a lowered voice, looking down the hallway before placing his hand on the middle of the door and pushing it open a bit more. He looks worried, concerned for me and like he’s going to take me away. Like he thinks I want to sneak out.
There’s more stubble lining his jaw today than there was yesterday, and his eyes are red. He didn’t sleep.
“I didn’t sleep well,” I admit to him and avert my eyes as I pick at the hem of my thin nightgown. I wonder what John thinks of me. Of this. Of yesterday,
or at least what he knows of it.
John runs his hand through his hair and looks back down the hall again. I can see the words on his lips, the promise to help. Asking me if I want to leave.
But I could never do that.
“When will you be back?” I ask him casually and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. I take a step closer to him and cross my arms over my chest.
“I won’t be long,” he says with uncertainty.
“I’ll be here when you get back,” I tell him confidently and feign a smile. I’m sure it doesn’t reach my eyes, but I don’t care. It does what it’s meant to. It gets him to leave without an attempt to take me away.
“I’m looking forward to our session,” I say and keep my voice hopeful as I keep his gaze.
A confused look mars John’s face as he leaves, Toby turning his massive head to follow him.
“I’ll be back soon,” he says looking over his shoulder and patting his hand on the doorway once, hesitating to take a step, but leaving me alone.
I nervously pick at my fingernails, remembering the camera, knowing that I have to go backward in time, back to what haunts me at night, back to what John doesn’t know.
Chapter 16
John
I don’t even remember work today. My hands moved on their own, the task at hand blurring with what was consuming my mind.
The thought of her in the house. Left with Jay.
I finished one order. The only one I had that would bring anyone to my shop at all.
For now, and for the time being, the shop is closed. And every waking moment will be spent in that house with Robin.
I’m not leaving her again.
The doorknob clicks as I sneak into 401 Cadence Square, slipping the pin I used to unlock it into my back jeans pocket. My blood rushes through my veins. I know this is illegal, technically breaking and entering and I look over my shoulder before closing the door behind me. I swallow hard and let out an uneasy breath as I look around the living room.
Residence to Miss Robin Everly. Or former residence, unbeknownst to the rest of the world.
I walk easily into the cozy space. It’s a small ranch house that’s fairly dated, but her furniture and décor are modern and mostly simple. It’s the pop of colors and textures that give it life. They seem odd knowing the bit of her she’s shown me.
There’s a professionalism about the room. Organization that seems more fit for a home design magazine, but the colors are cheery. Bright teal in the designs of the throw pillows and pale yellow stripes on the curtains and rugs. There are a scattering of teal flowers and motivational sayings like ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ on the pictures throughout the place.
As if she needs to be surrounded by something to keep out the stark and cold emptiness that would be left if those pieces were removed.
I ignore them for a moment, feeling my stomach churn at the thought of her being here instead of in the cabin. My phone is heavy in my hand as I watch the screen for a moment.
I have six cameras – not like the one Jay has set up in the basement. This way I can watch everything, at all times. He doesn’t know a thing about them, and he doesn’t need to. This is my insurance. I stare at the screen, watching how she sits across from the dog. She’s cross-legged and the dog’s laying down, but eyeing her curiously.
I wonder if Jay told her Toby is for emotional support. My fingers itched to touch her hand, to hold it while I let Toby approach her. Jay was right when he said she was damaged. He was right when he said she needed help.
I could help her. And I will. With or without Jay. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do this right.
The only reason I’m not there now is that I need to know more about her. And see if I can find the evidence Jay left behind. The anger rises slowly. It’s always like that when I think of Jay. A slow rise that turns to a simmer. Usually the thought that he can’t help it is enough to calm me, but he fucking set me up. He forced my hand, and that’s something that’s unforgivable.
I slip the phone into my back pocket, turning my head to the window on the left side of the room as the gentle city traffic is disrupted with a honking horn.
I’m quiet as I walk through the house, greeted only by silence. My instinct is to go to her bedroom, but when the door creaks open and I peek in, I see her bed first. The sheets and comforter are in disarray and there’s broken glass on the floor.
Fuck! Jay told me he left evidence, but I didn’t expect it to be something so fucking obvious.
I grit my teeth and go back to the tiny galley kitchen, reaching into my other back pocket for the thin black leather gloves. I’m careful with every step.
The cabinets are old and worn. I have to go through three of them before I find the dust pan. I take my time, cleaning up the room and wiping down every surface I can think of. All the while I take in every inch of her place.
What’s most odd is that it feels like I’ve already been here. Especially the bedroom. It feels like I know her, like we aren’t strangers in the least. I can’t shake the feeling; I haven’t been able to since I first laid eyes on that photograph.
I toss the rag I’ve been using to wipe down surfaces into the trash bag in her kitchen as the unsettling thought passes through me.
I make a mental note to take the trash with me on the way out. No piece of evidence left behind. I don’t know when she’ll be back…
I was going to let her go this morning. I was ready to take her with me. I’d do what I have to do with Jay and plead with her to stay with me until I figured a way out, but she was so willing to remain when I left. So unlike what I anticipated.
It feels like a trap.
I let the unfinished thought slip away as I think I hear someone in the living room.
My eyes whip up to the small doorway and I wait, listening to the blood rushing in my ears. Thump, thump, thump, thump. My heart races in my chest.
I’m quick to remove the gloves, shoving them in my back pocket and waiting for whoever it is to say or do something. I anticipate them calling out her name to see if she’s home. But there’s nothing but silence until Jay appears in the doorway.
A smirk slowly lifts his lips up with a knowing glint that sparkles in his eyes.
“Fucking bastard,” I mutter under my breath. The smile widens and he walks closer to me.
“Cleaning up?” he asks me and then glances at the trash bag.
“Yeah,” I answer him and bend down to tie it off. “Just on my way out,” I tell him.
“You should go,” Jay says, his voice full of something I’ve never heard from him before. Possessiveness, jealousy even. He leans his back against the doorway, blocking part of the exit and adds, “She’s waiting for you.”
There’s an undertone to his voice that accompanies his narrowed eyes as he cracks his knuckles one by one. “You’ll have to tell me what you think of your session.”
I crack my own knuckles, mirroring him. “What I think about her, you mean?” I ask him, pushing him just slightly to see what his intentions are, to pick at the real meaning behind his question.
A rough laugh escapes his lips as he tilts his head and looks me in the eyes, crossing his arms as he shrugs. “I already know what you think of her,” he says in a low voice, almost a murmur. Like it wasn’t meant for me, which pisses me off.
“Is that right?” I ask him, feeling my blood heat and adrenaline coursing through me. It’s been a long time since we’ve gotten into it. But I can feel it coming. Maybe not today while she’s trapped at the cabin. But when she’s safe, I know it’s going to happen.
He relaxes his posture, as if coming to the same conclusion at the very same time. It does an odd thing to me and I want to bite the question back, but I can’t anymore.
“Do you love her?” I ask him.
The smile stays on his face as he answers immediately, “Of course I do. If I didn’t, I never would have let her go.”
Jay admits to what I already knew. The love be
tween them is obvious. The thing that shocks me is how hearing the words on his lips makes me feel. Jealous.
“Then let her go again. Let her make that choice,” I tell him words I know are rational, even if what I’m feeling is anything but.
“We’re only just getting started,” Jay says as he turns to leave.
“You told me it was about her,” I yell at him as he’s leaving, letting my emotions get the best of me. My words halt his footsteps. He turns to look over his shoulders, his eyes smoldering with an intensity I’ve never seen.
“It’s all about her. It’s always been about her.”
“I find that really fucking hard to believe right now,” I spit as I take a step forward, meeting him halfway.
“Don’t forget who will take the fall for this if something happens, John,” Jay sneers my name, his eyes darkening with anger.
His threat means nothing to me; I don’t care what the consequences are anymore. He smiles at me, a wicked grin at the thought. “She’s just as much for you as she is me,” he says and I flinch. “She has something she hasn’t told you, John. Something you need to hear.”
My body freezes as I watch him step back into the small kitchen. He carelessly touches every cabinet.
“What is it?” I ask him, not sure if I believe him or if this is a mind game to get me to do what he wants. But something feels off with her. A familiarity I can’t grasp. A pull so strong that it makes me reckless.
He stops and looks back at me, a flash of fear in his expression, but only for a moment. “I want her to tell you,” he says quietly.
I shake my head; there’s nothing she could tell me that would change anything. But as I look up to tell Jay just that, he stares back at me with an expression I can’t place. He drops his eyes and stares at the linoleum kitchen floor as a moment passes, letting the anger dim.
“I just need a little more time. Just a little longer before it all changes.” He says the words so quietly, like they aren’t for me. Only for himself.