SCARS (10 page)

Chapter Thirteen

              Morning came early. James had risen first. The only reason I knew this was because I could smell the coffee. But I never drank coffee before I ran. I drank water. Two glasses of it, and I carried glucose pills on me. And of course I took my meds, ate oatmeal and two eggs and a piece of toast.

              Then it was out the door for a two mile run. I had bumped it up after hitting the plateau of twenty-two pounds. I looked at the clock. Six o’clock in the morning. Time to take my medicine. So much fucking medicine. It seemed it never stopped. But for once, the nagging sense of death hanging over my head seemed to keep a respectful distance. In its place was the gentle aroma of coffee getting me out of bed, into my running clothes and socks and leading me into the kitchen.

              There at the table was my breakfast laid out with my pills. All the HIV protocol. My diabetic meds, and my fish oil. Including a tall glass of ice water.

              James stood at the butcher block drinking coffee and reading a paper. As I sat down I caught a smile on his face. It extended to those eyes of his and they sparkled blue just like the sun shining down on the ocean

              He came up alongside me and kissed me on my cheek. “Good morning, Love.”

              It was only when he swept around to his seat where a boiled egg and an apple smeared with peanut butter was that I realized he was dressed in a sexy all black runner’s get up looking like a veritable James Bond.

              He was going to join me on my run.

              I was touched.

              Moved.

              But in a way that was my time to myself. However, it was sometimes hard to motivate myself to hit the road. Looking at him in that outfit made me want to stay indoors and burn calories in a much different way.

              I wanted to ask him why he was running with me, but I guess I knew the answer to that. With Georgia’s unceremonious arrival the night before I knew he must be worried that our pasts might reach out from the darkness to grab us.

              “Eat, take your meds. We have a run to take.”

              “This is all very sweet but you don’t have to take a run with me.”

              “Maybe not, but all the same I’ll feel better if I do.”

              Pill by pill, bite by bite, drink by drink I took care of the banquet that had been laid out before me until there was nothing left, and I noticed him watching me. I looked back at him when I was done.

              “What is it?”

              “I don’t know. I just, I don’t know. There’s something about you that makes me want to keep watch over you. Georgia really is a nasty piece of work.”

              “Some would say we’re sisters and I should make a better effort where she’s concerned.”

              “That woman is a toxic piece of waste. Some would say the same thing about me. But I’m not trying to hurt you.”

              “No, if anything you’ve given me a purpose. Speaking of which, did you take your meds this morning?”

              “Yes.”

              He said this without anger. I was surprised. I got angry all the time when asked that question. Yet he was placid, calm. Without emotion. I wondered if beneath that calm surface there was a raging, seething, cauldron of emotion.

              James reached out and covered my hand with his.

              “You need not fear me. I’m unlike the other people in your life. I may be unsteady on my feet but I will always be a rock for you to lean up against.”

              Was I that obvious? Did I need that much comforting? I never considered myself a fearful woman. I had killed my father in the name of protecting myself and Georgia for chrissakes. But I hadn’t been in a romantic relationship for ten years. And James, he was a different kind of man. He wasn’t some irresponsible man-child. He was a man hardened by life and circumstances. In those eyes though…in his eyes I saw fire and passion, and in his arms I felt tenderness and strength.

              He was suddenly at the center of my world, and I was desperate to keep from falling so fast and hard. But it was pointless. We sat there. He looking like the kind of bodyguard you’d see in the movies and me looking like a schlump of nothing, trying to keep her illnesses in check.

              Of course, I had to remind myself how I found him. Of just how unlikely our romance in bloom really was. I didn’t know what was to come next but his touch alone was enough to center me in that moment. To make me sure of him, of us, for all the possibilities that lay ahead. With him there I had no fear.

              Not of my father.

              Not of my sister.

              And not of the idea of my secrets spilling out at the wrong time and forcing us to leave my limited world behind.

              Then I thought of my world up until this point. Ellen. A few acquaintances. A succession of lousy dates and would be boyfriends.

              James, for all his darkness and sorrow, was the kind of person perhaps I would have dismissed regularly, but something in his soul called out to mine; and in our mutual broken states perhaps we stood a chance against the very world rooting against us.

              “James,” I said softly, “I haven’t felt this way in a long time. You have my heart. Please handle it with care.”

              “My angel, always.”

              We stood. He tucked his keys in his pocket and out the door we went for the first of our morning runs.

***

              Watching sunrise as we approached the bridge as the run came to an end. I hesitated and pulled up short. James stopped and turned around.

              “C’mon you can do this.”

              Our breathing was hard and labored. I looked at that bridge and the drop and flashes of my father came to mind. Of him pushing me out onto the bridge when I was ten. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t breathe.

              I broke out into a cold sweat. My palms were clammy. My body began to shake. My knees threatened to buckle. I could feel the blood draining from my face. My head got light and it started to spin. I pitched forward and at the last second James reached out and caught me.

              “Easy there.”

              Slowly we lowered to the ground. I doubled over and vomited.

              “Hey, if you don’t want to go over the bridge we don’t have to. I can see it in your face. You went somewhere else. Somewhere I couldn’t help you. Where did you go angel of mine?”

              I looked at him. So tender. So compassionate. His touch made me feel safe. He pulled me into his arms. I couldn’t stop the memory though. My father had taken me out into the woods. He had raped me. And he was dragging me onto that horrible bridge. I shook uncontrollably, violently in James’ arms.

              He stroked my hair and rocked me back and forth. “Shhh…”

              “He raped me. He brought me out here in the forest and he raped me. He told me to scream as loud as I thought I could because there wasn’t anyone who was going to hear me and if they did they weren’t going to care. And after I’d screamed myself hoarse he forced me to dress myself and dragged me out onto that bridge. He held me by my shirt collar and dangled me out over that drop. Only when I went to scream he shoved his gun in my mouth and dared me to scream again.” I wasn’t crying. But I was trembling. The mere memory of that moment in my life was enough to re-traumatize me every time I thought about it. “When you looked at me that morning out there I saw…I saw a soul in tremendous pain. Raw. Pure. Pain. I saw a lost soul. I saw…me. I couldn’t leave you out there. So I did what any decent human being would do and I walked out there to you and hoped we’d both come out of it alive.”

              James’ breath caught, his grip tightened on me.

              “You have no idea what you mean to me Rayna. I didn’t deserve that act of faith. Not me. Especially not a man like me. I love you. For a million years I’ll love you. In life. In death. The only other woman I ever loved died for loving me. I won’t let that happen to you. So if you don’t want to ever walk out on that bridge again we never will. But if you decide you want to conquer that fear. Tell me. And we’ll face it together. As for Georgia. You will never face her alone again.”

              Over time the trembling stopped. My thoughts didn’t stop. In my mind I took the glass in my hand. The sound of its sharp, jagged edges slicing through tendon, muscle, vessels and his windpipe had faded in my memory. The sensation of his blood spilling out and splattering across my face was fresher. The echoes of his screams of horror and pain still cut through me. And his eyes wide with terror and disbelief. I could see that still. Like it had just happened.

              I held onto James tightly and his words resonated with me. His profession of love had struck me hard in the chest. I felt the same way. But I was scared. The men who had professed to love me always betrayed me. With James I was taking a risk. If he loved me would he love me for all time as said he would. It was one thing to love. It was quite another to profess eternal love. Because I knew for me, once I said it to him I would never take it back. He would be the only man I ever loved. He would always be all that I needed.

              “I love you, James. Now. Forever. Always. But I’m not ready to go out on that bridge. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to again.”

              His eyes said all I needed them to as he leaned in and kissed me. So sweetly, so tenderly. He may have considered himself a savage but he was
and would always be my whole world.

Chapter Fourteen

              I was alone.

              I had travelled to the spot I tried to forget about over the twenty years.

              The landscape had changed but what had happened there remained frozen in time. Murdering my father may have been a necessity for survival but it had been a high price for me to pay.

              The asphalt was cracked and broken. The tree split down the middle where the car had hit it and if you looked closely you could see the rusted out hull remains of the car beneath overgrown brush and branches. If you looked closer still you could see the scorched earth.

              One had to be looking for it though. For me it was obvious. It was the scarlet letter of a past I would never be able to get past. Georgia might notice it, but only because she knew what to look for.

              However the reality was I’d told no one of this place. Only when I felt conflicted did I come to this area. It was a stark reminder as to why I had done what I had done. There were many memories behind what had driven me to do what I had done compounded by a driven need to survive and break free.

              James understood.

              Georgia did not. Nor would she ever.

              I stood there. Remembering the fire. The intensity of the heat. The way it threatened to burn me alive. Of the desperation I felt as I cut my father’s throat. The speed at which I crawled out of the popping and busting glass.

              It was a chilling reminder of how close I’d come to death that night. It was hard to put it in perspective as I’d come so close to death on other occasions. The magnitude of guilt that I felt until that day was thick and devastating. I wished I could just cleanse my soul of it.

              Georgia would have me hanged for sure. I worried if one day she would betray me and my secret.

              Snow began to fall as the night played itself over and over in my mind repeatedly. He was so drunk I could, after all these years, still smell the alcohol on him. I could hear him and that ragged voice.

             
You little bitch. You little cunt. You will serve me. Understand me. Whatever I want. Whenever I want. You belong to me. You are nothing more than property. You think slaves had it bad you wait I’ll make you beg for the mercy you won’t ever receive.

             
I slowly sank to the ground and tried to forget.

              I thought of the way James had dealt with his pain. It had been with booze and sex. I suppose food had been my outlet. It had led him down to the bottom of a bottle while my path had put me at the flat end of a quart of Cherry Cordial ice cream.

              As I sat there I tried to make peace with a past that had ended with me standing by as the car burned down to its hull. Where some things were sharp as a tack other things weren’t. Crawling out of the car for example, the sounds were as clear as day. But actually getting out of the car was less clear. I felt someone there with me. Whoever it was they had and were keeping my secret as well.

              I had watched the car burn by myself.

              There had been an explosion. The shockwave had knocked me for a loop. I remembered hearing it but not seeing it. I remembered being shielded from it.

              These memories all haunted me. They were all there. Sharp, in color and just beyond my grasp. Who was my silent hero standing there in the background all these years keeping my secrets?

              I heard footsteps crunching the growth and snow. Jerking around I half expected to see the ghost of my father there. Or worse Georgia waiting to exact her revenge. To see either of them wouldn’t have been much of a surprise.

              “It’s really not safe for a woman like you to be around here alone.”

              My guard which had been sky high crumbled like a mortar blasting through concrete. It was James. I had nothing to fear. I got to my feet.

              “Maybe, just trying to put all the pieces of that night back together in my head. They don’t quite fit in the right places.”

              Our eyes met and suddenly my mind unleashed a tidal wave of information.

             
“Hey. Hey in there. I’m going to get you out.”

              I looked down my hands were sliced deep and were gushing with blood. My father was dead. The passenger window shattered and a man, his face in shadow, reaches in and pulls a dagger slicing the fast melting seatbelt and pulls me out. He drags me the car explodes he flips me to my back and lands on top of me. He raise mes up. I’m dazed. Just as I focus I realize…

             
I race into James’ arms and begin to sob and cleave to him. He holds me tight. The harder I cry the tighter he holds me.

              “It was you…” was all I could manage to gasp. “It was you…”

              “Yes, angel. Yes,” was all he could repeat.

              It was a revelation to me. All these years I had believed I was alone. All these years I had tortured myself with the belief with the idea that someone would finally turn me in. And the man on the bridge who I had talked down had saved my life.

              I didn’t know much else other than showing up on my home door step and telling the version of happenings which had omitted the man who had saved my life being there. Surely he had driven me home that night as I was in no condition to walk.

              It was then he whispered in my ear, “I will protect you, come what may, I
will
protect you from
everyone.
”

              I gazed into his eyes and without another word he swept me off my feet and carried me home.

***

              It was the middle of the day. I had cleaned up and fallen asleep in James’ arms. So I was somewhat surprised when I woke up alone. I crawled out of bed and shuffled to the edge of the kitchen. When I heard his voice I realized he wasn’t speaking to me. I ducked around the corner and peeked around it. On the table were two glasses of wine and two candles and clutched tightly in his hand was the picture of one of the most beautiful and lavishly dressed women I had ever seen. It was
her.
The nameless woman. His ghost. The woman he had killed for. The woman he had loved. The woman he loved still. And the woman he was talking to now. I knew I shouldn’t be listening in. That this was a private moment. Something he must do in order to let go or maybe keep her close. I wasn’t quite sure.

              “Lana. I don’t know what I’m doing here. I thought this life. This miserable godforsaken life of mine was only worth living when you shined your light on me. I thought you and you alone were the only one who made life worth living. My life. My miserable godforsaken life has never been worth a damn since you died. And now this. This angel from my past comes and saves my soul. I don’t deserve it. She says she needs me. She gives her soul to me and I’m too weak to push her away. I love her. God help me. I love her in a way I could’ve never loved you. When I kissed you it was all done in shadows. It was forbidden. I insisted on the light and it cost you your life. She gives of her heart freely. She shines that light wherever we are. So I protect her. I’m afraid I can’t protect her. But god help me I
will
protect her. Even if it means drowning in the darkness she wars so fiercely against. I love Rayna. She’s my angel. My light. I have to let you go Lana. If I don’t it will destroy anything I have left to give to Rayna. A piece of my heart will always remain with you but the rest is hers.”

              He kissed the photo then placed it to the flame. I wanted to scream at him to stop. That he didn’t have to this. But I restrained myself. His past was his and mine was mine. And just because I was holding onto mine it didn’t mean he had to hold onto his.

              I cleared my throat and rounded the corner. He blew out the candles, stared at the wine glasses just for a bit longer, dumped them out and tossed them into the garbage. I peeked toward the fire in the sink and noticed it had burned itself out. He turned on the water and the ash circled down the drain.

              Something in me wanted him to say what this was about. Instead I went to him and just took him in my arms. He slowly embraced me. Gathering my shirt in his hands he clenched them into fists. He pressed his mouth into my neck and let out a mournful howl. It was guttural, raw, and shook me to my core. He had loved this woman in a way he could never love me. She was his first love. It was powerful stuff. To be robbed of it was the worst kind of pain. But to combine it with grief and violent rage—I could feel the pain reverberate through my entire body as it broke in his throat and he began to sob.

              I leaned all his weight into me and from somewhere, I wasn’t entirely sure of where I found the strength to hold us both as his grief spilled over like a waterfall engulfing us in its pounding waves. I seriously doubted he’d ever had the chance to say goodbye to her or even honor her memory. Holding onto her memory had been the only thing he had of her.

              He leaned harder against me and pushed me against the table then sitting me on top of it. The ache and grief in his eyes was unmistakable. He needed me. He needed me to take the pain away. Because I was, at this point, the only one who could do that.

              Pushing him back a few steps I got back to my feet, undid his fly and unzipped it. I pushed his jeans down to his ankles. I pushed his boxers down. His cock was already hard, nestled in a bed of dark blonde curls. I closed my eyes. The next thing I did was difficult. It was a place that was full of nightmares and damaged memories. But for James I could and would do anything. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes.

              “For you, love. For only you,” I whispered into his ear. Then lowered to my knees and took him into my mouth.

              He hissed and groaned as I sucked and laved and stroked him. His hand was on my head edand for a slight second I feared he would he shove himself all the way in. But when he didn’t my heart opened and I dared go where I had never gone before and took him fully into my mouth. And when he came his knees threatened to buckle as my name fell from my lips. As he softened I swallowed and forced it down. He sank down to his knees and took me in his arms and murmured in my ear, “You are my angel. You are my love. My number one. Rayna you are my everything. Don’t ever forget that.”

              We held on to one another. There in his kitchen it was us. It was only us. It would only ever be us.

Chapter Fifteen

              James drew back. Gazing down at me he said, “That’s not something you do as a rule is it.”

              His words were soft and tender. Fellatio was something I reserved for men who meant the world to me. It wasn’t something I did out of hand because it was a Tuesday afternoon. I had done it because I loved him. I wanted to show him just how far I was willing to go for him.

              I shook my head no and he stroked my hair and traced my lips with his fingers. “I love you. You were hurting.”

              “Angel. Never feel like you have to reward me with sex. But admittedly it was good and when you took me in your mouth it was the most powerful orgasm I’ve experienced. I’ve never felt closer to a woman than I do with you right now.”

              My heart burst into a million pieces. His house, was it my house? Did it matter if I kissed him and only him? Did it matter if I moved my whole life into this trailer? Would Ellen forgive me? Would Ellen accept it?

              We were three weeks away from Christmas and his house was sans anything, which might say something about the holidays. If I wanted a life with this man would he accept anything resembling a normal life? Nothing in my life seemed to offer one.

              Oh how I did love Christmas. Even though it was often a lonely time for me, Ellen always went out of her way to put on a show of just how wonderful and grand it might be for me one day.

              I closed my eyes and exhaled. I asked as I opened my eyes, “Can we shop for a Christmas tree?”