Broken Beast

by R. R. Banks

  “We can call them later.” I step inside the cabin, and holy shit, it’s completely ransacked. The long tables along the window where she works have been flipped over, her fabric and yarn strewn all over the place. Her clothes are all over the place, too, and the mattress has been flipped. A lot of my finished pieces have been purposefully torn apart.

  “Shit,” is all I can manage to say. I run my hands through my hair and look at her, still clutching my forearm like it’s the only thing keeping her up. “This seems like someone did it on purpose.”

  “I know,” she mutters. “I think I know who did it.”

  “Who?”

  “My ex, Max.”

  I pause. “How are you sure?”

  She opens her fist, revealing a blue slip of paper. I take it and unfold it. Just taking back what’s mine is all it says.

  “That’s not his handwriting, though, so he has to be working with someone. And, true to the note, he took all the things that he’s given me.” She goes over to her upturned clothing bin and starts to rifle through it. “A lot of the lingerie. My fur vest. Jewelry. Nothing else was taken.”

  “But why? I know you guys had a bad breakup but having someone trash your stuff and take some of it back seems a little extreme.” I put one of the tables right-side up again.

  She goes quiet, kneeling on the floor. Is she crying? I get down on my knees next to the overturned bed so I’m not looming over her. She’s not crying yet but she’s close.

  “Okay, you know all those times when you’ve asked me what’s wrong and I’ve said everything is fine? It’s been all because of Max.” She grabs some clothes and starts to fold them quickly. “I dumped him, and he hasn’t been able to accept it. So here I am, running away from him.”

  “Hold on.” I start to help her fold because I’m not sure what else to do with my hands. “What do you mean by ‘he hasn’t been able to accept it?’”

  “He’s been harassing me. Basically.” She slaps a T-shirt on top of another T-shirt I’ve folded. “Part of the reason why I came up here was to put a little distance between us so he’d cool off. I had to pack all my stuff in the middle of the night and get out before he could know where I was going.”

  “Damn.” I tidy her folded piles, since her movements are getting erratic. I can see that her hands are trembling, even though she’s moving them quickly.

  “That day I slipped and fell? It was because I got a text from Max, and I never gave him this number. He was asking where I was since I wasn’t at my old place.” The dam finally breaks, and she starts to cry. “So he was watching my old place and actively trying to get my number. And after we hooked up, he texted me again that morning. And then when I went back to the city for Gigi’s birthday, he showed up at the bar and tried to talk to me.”

  “How’d he know you would be back in town?”

  She shrugs. “We have a ton of mutual friends, so someone must have told him Gigi’s party was that night. And he knows I wouldn’t miss that party. I thought he was going to hurt me but there was a bouncer there. Thank God.”

  “Has he hurt you in the past?” I look over her, as if he’s touched her. My blood’s boiling already.

  “Not really badly.” Her voice sounds so small.

  “But he still did?” I let go of the pair of jeans I have a stranglehold on.

  “He grabbed my wrist until it bruised and pushed me into a wall pretty hard.” She says it almost casually. “So nothing major. That happened the day I left for here.”

  “That’s still not fucking okay, even if it’s minor.” My blood’s more than boiling. Is that even possible? I want to punch something, but that would be the worst possible thing to do. I’d scare the shit out of her. I clench my knees instead. “It was bad enough for you to feel unsafe, and that’s all that matters.”

  “I just feel really dumb.” She hiccups and sniffs, full on crying without restraint. “I don’t know how I got myself into this situation. And I don’t know how to fix it.”

  I could beat the ever-living shit out of the guy, but that would only serve to release my anger.

  “It’s not your fault.” I run my hand up and down her back.

  “I mean, you can tell me that, but I still feel like it is. I opened up and he took advantage of all of my insecurities. My body, my career, everything.” She slides onto her hip so she’s closer to me. “He’s nuts. I don’t how I didn’t see it in a freaking year. For fuck’s sake, he told me to my face that he liked setting fires when he was like, eighteen, and didn’t think it was weird. That’s not normal. He might as well have waved a red flag in front of my face.”

  “Ah, is that why the fire freaked you out?” I ask, frowning. “You think he’d burn down someone else’s house to scare you?”

  “It sounds absurd, but I have no idea what he’s capable of.” She wipes her eyes with the heels of her hands, like she’s trying to push tears back in. “Especially now that he’s done this. He knows where I’m living. What if he tries to hurt me?”

  “I won’t let that happen.” I gently squeeze her shoulder. “I promise. You can come stay in the house with me. I’ll start using the security system instead of just keeping the shotgun near the door. We can call the police, too, in the meantime. Even if they can’t get here right away, they can open an investigation. If he tries to touch you, I’ll break every last one of his fucking fingers.”

  That only makes her cry even harder, and rightfully. Goddamn it, I couldn’t even keep my rage under control for her. I’m an asshole.

  “It’s fine. It’s not all that, or what you said,” she says, reading my confusion and fear that I’d scared her. “It’s just… I’m really happy that I ended up here with you during all this.”

  She slides over to me and hugs me, burying her face in my chest. She’s warm and fits nicely against me. Since she started the hug, I wrap my arms around her, too, pulling her into my lap. We just sit there for a while, holding each other for a long time. Her crying eventually slows down as I rub her back.

  “Can we go inside the house?” Simone asks. Her breath is warm through my shirt. “I’m not sure if I can handle cleaning up today.”

  “Yeah, sure.” I put her hands around my neck and get up. She doesn’t complain about being carried.

  Once we’re in the house, I put her onto her feet.

  “What do you want to do?” I keep my hand on her shoulder. “TV?”

  “TV.”

  We head to the living room, and she sits on the couch. She wraps herself in a big alpaca blanket I keep on the back of the couch, like a little burrito with her head poking out. I grab us some pretzels and seltzer, then join her.

  “Can I ask you something? You can totally say no if you don’t feel comfortable doing it,” Simone asks, sliding her hand out from the blanket to grab a pretzel.

  “Shoot.”

  “Would you mind holding me like you did back there?” she asks. “I’ll stay wrapped up like this. It was really soothing.”

  “Yeah,” I say, before I stop myself. If I can’t keep myself under control when Simone’s under a blanket and having a breakdown over a (massive piece of shit) guy, then I deserve to go to hell. Now’s not the time for boners.

  I sit down next to her, put a pillow in my lap for an extra layer of protection, and pull her over into my lap, cradling her gently with one arm so she feels secure. She sighs, tension leaving her body. I slide down a little so I can rest the back of my head on the couch. It feels really nice — the couch is big enough for me to sleep on comfortably, so I don’t feel squished.

  “What do you want to watch?” I grab the remote.

  “Whatever you’d like. Anything’s fine.”

  I pick Kitchen Nightmares again, since I know we both like it. Unlike the first time we watched it together, we’re quiet. I rest my other arm across the back of the couch, and find myself getting tired. After an episode or two, we eat some leftover pizza and get back into position. After the pizza, I’m definitely
tired.

  “Hey,” I say quietly, just in case she’s sleeping. “I’m going to bed.”

  “What?” She sits up, dazed, realizing she’s laying across my lap. “Oh.”

  “You want me to take the couch tonight while you take the bed?”

  “Which one’s safer, do you think?” She tugs the blanket around her even tighter. “Your bedroom has a lot of windows, but this is the front of the house.”

  “I have the security system on, which means all of the windows are locked and a really irritating alarm will blare if anyone tries to get in. Plus, I have more than one shotgun around. And I can close the curtains, if that’ll make you feel better.” I stretch, my shirt coming up to expose my stomach. I yank it back down when I notice her eyes dart to that stretch of skin.

  “Do you have a sleeping bag or something? I just want to be in the same room as you.” She looks embarrassed. “I don’t know if I can fall asleep without you close.”

  “Oh.”

  “I know we’re trying to be just friends, so sharing a bed would be weird. But maybe I could sleep inside the sleeping bag on the bed as an extra layer of protection?” She’s going pink, and honestly, so am I.

  The last time we woke up in a bed next to each other, we fucked. But we weren’t where we are now — we both know we shouldn’t have done it for the sake of both of our sanities, and that she probably isn’t ready for any sort of intimacy, sexual or not.

  “We can use some pillows or something. I think I have one of those big body pillows somewhere. The sleeping bag will probably get too hot.” I get up. “We’ll be fine. We have self-control.”

  If I say it, it’ll force me to keep my word. We can’t fuck again. She’s as off-limits as a nun.

  “Right.” She gets up, too, finally shedding the blanket. “Let’s go then.”

  We take turns in the bathroom. While she’s doing her extended skincare routine, I put a big old T-shirt and some shorts that probably belong to Alice next to the door, then go to find the body pillow in the back of the closet. I don’t remember why I bought it, but I’m glad I have it now. I usually sleep right across the middle of the bed since I sleep alone, but now I have to pick a side. I put the pillow down the middle of the bed and pick the side closest to the door.

  Simone comes in wearing the T-shirt and presumably the shorts. The T-shirt hangs almost to her knees. It seems like she’s wearing a bra. I hate myself for looking at her boobs, but it feels like a reflex at this point. She doesn’t notice. She just gives me a shy smile and heads over to the other side of the bed. She slides under the covers and turns towards me.

  “Goodnight?” She seems unsure if she should say it.

  “Night.” I roll over to turn off the light, then roll back over into my natural sleep position. It just happens to be facing her.

  “I’m sorry. I fall asleep facing this way, but I’ll probably end up rolling over in the night,” she stammers.

  “It’s fine. There’s the pillow. And I can hardly see you in the dark.” I close my eyes.

  I fall asleep pretty quickly, as usual, but wake up in the middle of the night. The body pillow is pushed down to about my waist, and Simone’s hand is inches away from my face. She’s still asleep, but she’s tossing and turning, a frown across her pretty features.

  I want to cuddle with her so fucking bad. Maybe I should go sleep on the couch, but if she wakes up and I’m gone, she’ll freak out.

  I scoot away but keep my eyes on her. It takes a while, but her face finally relaxes again. I hate that she’s having nightmares. I hate that I wasn’t around to catch that piece of shit ex in the act. I don’t even know what he looks like, but I know I could beat the shit out of him. It’s been a while since I’ve felt anything so intensely, particularly rage.

  Simone sighs and kicks the pillow into my leg. I don’t know what she’s dreaming about, but she finally looks relaxed. And so fucking beautiful that my stomach tightens. It’s not just physical attraction, though obviously, that’s a big part. I just like her. A lot.

  The weeks of just being friends have only made me realize that I have feelings for her. Her creativity and curiosity. Her sense of humor when she’s relaxed. And her ambition, too. The time we’ve had together (when we haven’t been on thin ice) since she got here has felt good — lively. I never felt like that around any of my exes, except for her. Both now and back then.

  She shifts in her sleep and I shut my eyes again, just in case she’s awake. This isn’t good. I’m basically asking to get my emotions kicked in the ass if I start anything. Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to just be friends, because that’s not what I want. But I’m painted into this corner, so I guess I have it sit in it.

  I feel the pillow get pushed up onto my legs and open my eyes again. She’s half-awake now, nodding at me. She rolls over and hops out of the bed to go to the bathroom. A minute or two later she comes back and slides into the bed.

  “Are you awake?” she whispers.

  “Mmhm.” I open my eyes again. The dim moonlight from the skylight makes her look like a fairy with her big green eyes and delicate features.

  “Did I wake you?”

  “Nope.” I roll onto my back, since facing her is making me feel fluttery inside. “Sometimes I just wake up for no reason.”

  “Same.” She rolls around a little until she’s on her side. “I had nightmares, though.”

  “I know. You were tossing and turning. Your hand was right next to my face.” I turn my head to look at her. “You okay?”

  “Mmhm. I’m just trying to not feel guilty about all of this. I hardly remember what my dream was about, but I know it was basically just me feeling like I wasn’t doing something I should’ve been.” She rolls onto her stomach, keeping her face toward me, her arms underneath the pillow.

  “Simone. Don’t feel guilty about the whole situation with Max, and don’t feel guilty about wanting some protection. You’re a normal human in a stressful situation. Don’t pretend like you shouldn’t think all of this is hard.”

  I expect her to protest, but she just sighs and closes her eyes.

  “You’re sweet, Jay. You know that?” she mumbles.

  “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me sweet before.” I chuckle.

  “I did, back in high school.” I hear her legs sliding against the sheets. “Because it was true. No matter how much you hid it.”

  “I wasn’t hiding it, necessarily. It was just that you were the only person I felt comfortable around.” I open my eyes again, and she’s looking at me. Her gaze is sleepy, but curious. “You were pretty much my best friend back then.”

  “You had other friends. I was your girlfriend.”

  “Yeah, sure, but I couldn’t be my whole self.” I close my eyes again, not liking where this conversation is going. I feel that warm, yearning sensation in my chest, like I want to knock down any interior walls I have. “It doesn’t matter. It was the past.”

  “I know.” She sighs and keeps wiggling around for a few moments. “Goodnight.”

  “Night. Again.”

  Finally, she goes still and her breathing evens out. I scoot over to the far edge of the bed and face the door to the bedroom. It takes a while, but I fall back asleep.

  I don’t wake up until the early morning sun is coming through the skylight. Simone’s not in bed, but I hear her puttering around the kitchen the next room over.

  I rub the sleep out of my eyes and go to see what she’s up to, clearing my throat so she knows I’m coming. She’s sitting on the counter next to the coffee maker, looking out the window with a mug of coffee in her lap. My breath catches when I take her in. Her hair’s loose and wavy around her shoulders, and she looks a lot less stressed than she did yesterday. There’s a little smile on her face that makes her already beautiful face even more perfect.

  “Good morning. Made coffee.” She raises her mug and looks back out the window. “There was a whole family of deer walking through here just now! It was amazin
g.”

  I chuckle and grab a mug. “Yeah, they like to wander through here.”

  “All the time?” She asks in wonder.

  “Damn, you’ve been living in the city for a long time, haven’t you?” I pour myself a cup. I can already tell that it’s way too weak for my tastes. I guess I won’t die from having weak coffee once. “There were deer growing up in New Jersey, you know. And trees and shit.”

  “But they never came into our yard. We had a dog, remember? Lola. And that cat who lived around there that my dad would feed.” She sips her coffee, seemingly satisfied with it. “There were hardly any animals besides them, since the cat terrified all the birds, and Lola would bark her head off at any squirrels or whatever that wandered into view.”

  “Oh, yeah.” I’d forgotten about her family’s ancient dog. I lean against the counter next to her, far away enough to not crowd her, but close enough to satisfy my need to be near her.

  “Lola lived to be fifteen.”

  “Damn, really? That’s old for a dog.” I finally get brave enough to sip the coffee. It’s tolerable, which is a step up from the garbage juice that she sometimes manages to make.

  “Yeah.” Her legs sway absently.

  We enjoy our coffee in comfortable silence, watching nature outside. It’s not just the calm of the trees and land outside. Sharing something simple like this with someone else feels really nice. It’s like being alone, but better — there’s no pressure for me to be anything or put up any fronts. I don’t need to try to put parts of myself away, and it feels natural as can be. I can’t help but steal a glance at Simone again. I hesitate to say I’m in love with her again, but I feel pretty damn close to something like it. It’s a subtle shift, like someone opening a locked box in my chest.

  “Remember what you said last night?” She tops off her coffee. “About ‘being your whole self’ back when we dated?”

  I nod. “Yeah, what I said when we were both exhausted?”