CHAPTER TEN: Holden
I had to leave the house before 8 A.M. on Saturday morning to get to Conner Hall, the large meeting hall on campus where the Psychology & Sexuality in The Modern Age weekend seminar was being held.
It was hard, dragging myself out of bed and leaving Jude lying there on her back, all naked and warm, her perfect breasts rising and falling as she snored softly with strands of hair across her face. Her lips were open, the warm breath sighing out of her made me long to press my lips to hers. God, I loved waking up with this woman. There was just something magical about it. I guess that was because there was something magical about Jude.
I resisted the urge to snuggle up next to her and slide my cock between her legs for a little good morning loving. We had really gone at it hot and heavy last night (what’s better than make-up sex???), not to mention finishing off the bottle of wine Wynn had brought before calling it a night.
She’d had a rough few weeks. She deserved a little rest and relaxation. Besides, unless I missed my guess, she’d be having a little morning delight with Wynn once they were both up and around. There was no need for me to wear her out completely, although the vision of her naked body in my bed remained on my mind’s eye all the way to Conner Hall.
The event didn’t formally start until noon with registration at eleven, but I had somehow been put in charge of logistics, so it was my job to make sure the tables and chairs were set up in the meeting hall, the sound system worked, the food was scheduled to arrive, the coffee was made, and the reception table was all ready for folks to check in as soon as they walked through the lobby doors.
All the attendees had RSVP’d in advance and their nametags were neatly spread out on the reception table, which was in the lobby just as attendees came in the door. The table would be manned by association members and student volunteers, who should start arriving within the hour.
It was not going to be a large event, maybe fifty people or so, but having a celebrity author and fellow psychiatric professional like Dr. Wynn Driver had the place buzzing. The local media had even requested permission to come out and interview Wynn; radio, television, bloggers, and the school paper.
The male members of the association all acted unimpressed at our celebrity keynoter. Most of the female members, on the other hand, were as giddy as teenage girls headed to a Justin Bieber concert. Many of the ladies had, shall we say, “experienced” Wynn intimately. And those who had not probably fantasized about doing so.
Going into the weekend there was an electricity in the air I had never felt at such an event, large or small. My friend Wynn was a star. A star with groupies of all ages. And I could not have been happier for him. And maybe just a tad jealous. Both perfectly normal, I assure you.
I had just finished talking to the catering company over the phone, confirming the lunch menu of rubber chicken and cold rice (a joke, I hoped) when I noticed the beautiful black girl coming through the front door. She had skin the color of chocolate and a head full of short dreadlocks that reached her shoulders and hung over her forehead. She was dressed in a black tank top under a short blue jacket and a pair of jeans that should have charged admission the way they showed off her ample rear end. She set her backpack next to the reception desk and gave me a sleepy nod. It was Izzy, Jude’s roommate and ardent protector.
“Professor Moss,” she said coldly, giving me the eye as she stood at the table staring down at the name tags. “I agreed to work the sign-in table.”
“Ah, that was nice of you,” I said, stepping aside to let her move around behind the table to take a seat in one of the two chairs. “Did Jude twist your arm?”
“No, Jude had nothing to do with it,” she said, crinkling her nose and looking at me as if I were giving off a bad odor. “Professor Atkinson made us draw straws and I lost.”
“Ah, forced to volunteer,” I said with a smile. “Either way, thanks for helping out. I appreciate it.”
“Whatever,” she grunted, narrowing her dark eyes at me. It was obvious that Izzy had not decided whether she liked me or not. She seemed to be leaning toward the dislike-side. She was super protective of Jude, but she had to realize how happy Jude was since we’d been together. Still, she looked me up and down with suspicious eyes and curled her lip at me.
“Where’s Jude?” she asked, her beautiful face twisting into a disapproving frown as she looked around the lobby, which was empty except for she and I. “Is she coming to help out?”
“She was asleep when I left the house,” I said. I shoved my hands into my pockets because I didn’t know what to do with them. Funny, Izzy had the ability to make me nervous with just a look, kind of like my mother used to. I shuffled my feet on the worn carpet and forced a smile. “She’ll be here later to help out. I thought I’d let her sleep in.”
“Uh huh,” she grunted, arching her eyebrows. She sat down in the chair and started alphabetizing and straightening the name tags. “Your friend get into town?”
“My friend?”
She kept her hands busy with the name tags and did not look up at me. “The thoughtful pussy guy,” she said. “What’s his name?”
“Dr. Wynn Driver,” I said with a smile. The thoughtful pussy guy. Classic. I’d have to suggest to Wynn that he put that on his business card. “He got in late last night.”
“He sleep in the bed with y’all?” she asked. The question came out of nowhere in a low growl, like a wolf issuing a warning to a lamb about to get slaughtered. It forced the smile from my face. I pulled over a chair to sit across the table from her.
“Why would you ask me that question?” I asked seriously.
“You know why I asked you that question,” she said, hands busy, eyes down. “Me and Jude talk, you know. I know what you have in mind for her and I don’t think I like it much.”
“Really? And what do you think I have in mind for her?”
“She’s told me all about you and your little gay pal, Wynn, and your little gangbang sessions y’all do,” she said. She glanced up long enough to make me swallow hard. “I know what you two mother fuckers are planning. And so does Jude. So, don’t act all sweet and innocent with me because I know all about you and your little friend.”
“My little friend?” I couldn’t help but smile, then I started to get angry. Obviously, this girl thought she knew me, but she didn’t have a clue who I really was. I rested my forearms on the table and resisted the urge to tell her what Jude and I did was none of her fucking business. Instead, I took a few slow breaths and let the words settle for a moment.
When I spoke, I tried to keep the anger out of my tone. I knew she wasn’t just being a bitch. She was just looking out for her best friend. I certainly could not blame her for that. I’d protect Jude from anything or anyone that I thought might be a threat.
I said, “Look, Izzy…”
She held up a hand to shush me. “Don’t you ‘look Izzy’ me,” she said in a tone that clearly said she would just as soon kick my ass as give me the time of day.
I held up my hands, patting the air with my palms. “Okay, fine. Let’s just cut straight through the bullshit and you can tell me what’s really bothering you.”
“What’s really bothering me,” she said, leaning forward to lower her voice. “Is you—like every other man who has ever come in and out of Jude’s life—are just there to fuck her and forget her. That’s it. You don’t really give a shit about her. You just want to get your rocks off and move on.”
“Is that right?”
“Damn straight that’s right.”
I frowned at her words because I had never given Jude that impression—at least I hoped that I had not—and I wasn’t sure why Izzy saw me that way because she didn’t really know me at all.
Did she think that every man who showed an interest in Jude was doing so only because he wanted to fuck her?
Did she not think Jude was smart enough to gauge the sincerity of a man’s actions and act accordingly?
Or perhaps it was something deeper than that.
Perhaps it was because she had seen Jude put herself in these situations with bad guys for years and was just sick of watching her friend get hurt, even though it was her friend’s own doing.
How many girls had such low self-esteem that they hooked up with men who used and abused them rather than men who would treat them like goddesses?
It was the old bad boy syndrome.
Bad boys treat good girls badly.
That’s why they’re called bad boys.
And sadly, a lot of girls sought out these bad boys and were only happy when they were being used and abused.
I hated to quote Dr. Phil, but he was exactly right when he said something to the effect of, “You teach people how to treat you.”
Izzy was convinced that I was just another in a long line of assholes out to hurt her friend. I suddenly could not blame her for being angry and suspicious. All I could do was convince her that she had misjudged me and my intentions toward Jude.
I glanced around the lobby then glanced at my watch. It was still early. We were the only ones there. In fact, I started to wonder what Izzy was doing there so early because the doors didn’t open till ten and registration started at eleven. Then it hit me. She arrived early on purpose to talk to me. Or to threaten me. I was eager to see which one.
“I hope that I have never given Jude the impression that I’m involved with her to just fuck her and forget her, as you say.” I waited for her to respond, but the only response I got in return was the narrowing of her dark eyes. “Come on, Izzy. Clearly you have something to say, so talk to me. Say it. Because whether you choose to believe it or not, I really do have Jude’s best interests at heart.”
“Bullshit,” she snorted, rolling her eyes. “Guys like you only care about one thing and that’s sticking your filthy cock into as many hot young coeds as you possibly can before your looks and power start to go.”
“Wow,” I said, a smile itching my lips. “Is that what you really believe?”
She folded her arms over her breasts and cocked an eyebrow at me. “You gonna deny it? Please, do try.”
“Am I going to deny that I’m a lecherous piece of shit just fucking as many college girls as I can before my time runs out?” I asked, holding out my hands like a lawyer pleading his case to a hard-nosed judge. “Uh, you bet your ass I’m going to deny it. And for your information, my cock is not filthy. I keep it quite clean, thank you very much.”
“You’re a professor that fucks his students,” Izzy said without acknowledging my sad attempt at humor. Her demeanor didn’t flinch. Nor did her hard gaze ease. Her eyes went up and down my face. “So, how can you deny anything I say, Professor Moss?”
I blinked at the question, not because I didn’t know the answer, but because it was a good goddamn question. What was I? Really? If I wasn’t a professor fucking his way through the female student body? Holy shit… Was I that guy? Was that really me, only my high-headed ego was too pompous to admit it? I’ll say it again. Holy shit…
“Well?” she growled, cocking her eyebrows at me.
“I’m not… lecherous,” I said, trying to sound playful but failing miserably.
“You may be nicer than some of the men Jude’s been involved with, but it’s the same old song and dance,” Izzy said, wagging a finger at me. Her fingernails were long and sharp and painted the color of green apples. “The only difference between you and a piece of shit like Keith Calloway is, he’s in jail for the shit he’s done but you’re not.”
“Wow!” I said, huffing, shaking my head. “You can’t seriously believe that’s the only difference between me and Keith Calloway.”
She shrugged with her face. Her dark eyes cut into mine like lasers. “Seems to me y’all both used and abused my girl Jude. And you’ll keep doing it until she figures out what a sack of shit you are, then you’ll obsess over her and won’t leave her alone until a new victim comes along.”
“I’ve never obsessed over anyone to the point of stalking,” I said, feeling the heat of my temper flushing my cheeks. “And I’ve never used or abused anyone. Especially Jude.”
“You’ve never obsessed over Jude?” She was grinning at me now, which only made me madder because her grin was filled with ridicule and condescension.
“I’ve never obsessed or done anything remotely like Keith Calloway did. I would never do that. Ever.”
She tapped the finger to her chin and mocked a thoughtful face. “Did you or did you not show up on my doorstep a week ago begging me to plead your case to Jude?”
I frowned at the memory, which I saw very differently. “I came to your place hoping to speak to Jude because she wouldn’t return my calls and I had no idea why.”
“Please, Professor Moss…” She rolled her eyes and huffed at me, which just pissed me off all the more. “Do I look stupid to you?”
“You look confused,” I said without thinking. “And my name is Holden.”
She rolled her eyes again. “Professor Moss, you knew exactly why Jude didn’t want to speak to you. You knew how she was feeling after that bullshit in the parking lot with that cocksucker Keith Calloway. And yet there you were, knocking on my front door, looking all sad with your puppy dog eyes and droopy lip, asking me to let you see Jude. If that’s not obsession, I don’t know what it.”
“That was concern… And I don’t have puppy dog eyes,” I said, shaking my head. “And I was not there to take advantage of Jude. I was there to try and help her. I am a degreed psychologist, you know.”
She chuckled and rubbed a knuckle to the tip of her nose. “Do you know how many—” she made air quotes with her long fingers “—degreed psychologists have offered to help Jude?”
“No.”
“No? So, you do not know how many of those degreed psychologists who offered help ended up fucking her? Using and abusing her until they were done with her? Then just tossed her aside like a chewed-up piece of meat? Do you think any of them really helped Jude? Do you, Professor Moss?”
“No.”
“And do you think you’re helping Jude by fucking her every night?”
“Well, I…”
“And you’re not just fucking her body, Professor Moss,” she said, eyes shooting daggers into my face, the words spitting from her lips. She tapped the finger to her right temple. “You’re fucking with her mind. And the worst thing is, you know what you’re doing, but you reconcile it in your ‘degreed psychologist’ over-inflated ego. You’re fucking with her mind and you don’t even know it. What kind of fucking degreed psychologist are you? You’re in mother fucking denial, Professor. Mother… fucking… denial…”
“I’m sorry,” I said, unable to control the angry tone of my voice now. “Exactly what the hell are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about,” she shot back, hitching her chin defiantly at me.
“No, honestly I don’t know what you’re talking about because I don’t think you know what you’re talking about,” I said, hands in the air.
“Whatever,” she snarled, giving me the universal argument most kids her age used when they couldn’t think of anything intelligent to say.
Whatever… I was starting to hate that word.
I held out my hand with my fingers splayed to count off the ways I was not like Keith Calloway. I said, “First of all, I never came onto Jude. I did not approach or proposition her. Never. She came on to me in my classroom and made me an offer that only a fool would refuse. We have seen each other practically every day since, except for the few days when she was sorting out that business with Keith. And yes, I showed up at your door not because I was obsessed, but because I was worried about Jude, and yes, whether you take me seriously or not, I am educated and equipped to help people deal with such problems.”
“Oh, you help her deal all right,” Izzy said, shaking her head.
I stopped talking and gawked at her for a moment. I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms over my chest to mirror her posture. I eased my voice to match her tone. I said, “Let me ask you a question.”
“I ain’t got nothing to say to you,” she said, looking away as if that was that.
“Just humor me for a moment,” I said. “Has Jude said anything that would lead you to believe that I have done anything that was less than honorable when it came to her wellbeing and happiness?”
“Jude keeps the bad shit to herself,” Izzy said. She was going to be a hard one to convince that I had no negative motives toward Jude. If anything, I would forego my own happiness for hers. Wow… did I just admit that to myself?
“Surely Jude doesn’t just share the good parts of her life with you,” I said, giving her a sideways smile. “You’ve been besties and roomies for years. You said it a minute ago, y’all talk about everything. If Jude was not happy about something—if something I did or did not do made her unhappy— I’m sure you would spot it right away and pry until you found out exactly what the problem was. Then you’d take it upon yourself to fix whatever was broken or solve the problem for her because that’s the kind of friend you are, Izzy. I can tell. You’re not going to let anyone run over your friend. Not me. And certainly not Keith Calloway.”
“Why do you say that about Keith?” she asked. The ferocity left her eyes, leaving them teary. “Did Jude say something?”
“Jude told me that you feel bad because you didn’t step in when she was involved with Keith,” I said, nodding. “Just like you’re stepping in with me now.”
“I should have said something back then,” she said, confirming what I had already figured out. She wasn’t pissed at me. She was pissed at herself. “I knew Keith was a possessive mother fucker. I had known other girls he slept with. And you’re right. Me and Jude share everything. I knew he was making her do crazy shit. Shit she didn’t especially want to do. And I knew he was married before she did.”
I blinked at that one. “Wait, you knew he was married but you didn’t tell Jude?”
The anger seemed to leave her body like steam rising off a morning pond. Her eyes filled with tears. She tugged a tissue from her backpack to wipe them away. “I had seen him in town with a woman and a couple of little kids,” she said. “A few days before his wife caught them at the natatorium.”
“But you didn’t say anything to Jude?” I tried not to frown in judgment. “Because?”
“Because she thought she had feelings for him and I knew it would break her heart to discover that he had been lying to her all along. I was going to tell her. I just hadn’t figured out the best way to do it.”
“I see,” I said, uncrossing my arms and crossing my legs. I wrapped my fingers around me knee, moving from a defensive posture to a more understanding and supportive one. “So, you didn’t want to hurt her, which I totally understand. It can be tough, seeing someone you love in a bad situation, knowing that telling them the truth might hurt them, and hurt your relationship as a result.”
“Sometimes the messenger is the one who gets blamed,” she said, staring down at the tissue. She held it between her hands and started picking it apart. “I was going to tell her… honestly… but before I could… well… the shit hit the fan and it was too fucking late.”
“Did you ever tell her?” I asked, already knowing the answer but letting her say it. She needed to vocalize her feelings. She needed to get it all out. She didn’t realize it, but she was going to feel much better after our little impromptu session. Izzy was riddled with feelings of guilt over what happened between Jude and Keith Calloway. She felt horrible that she had not better protected her friend. She felt guilty to the point of now being overprotective, which I found truly admirable. She was a good friend put in a bad situation. I probably would have done the exact same thing.
“No, I never said anything,” she said quietly. She huffed a sigh that made her shudder. “And please, don’t you say anything to her. I don’t want her mad at me for not having the balls to tell her.”
“I’m pretty sure she’d understand,” I said reassuredly. “But you can count on my silence. But you have to stop blaming yourself for what happened between Jude and Keith. It was not your fault.”
“That’s easier said than done,” she said.
“I know, but you have to forgive yourself and let it go,” I said. I gave her a respectful smile. “Come in, Izzy, you’ve taken all the classes. You’re one of the top students in the grad program. You know what I’m saying is true.”
“I know,” she said, sniffing back tears. “I know I should reconcile these feelings and move on, but that’s hard to do. Knowing and doing are two completely different things.”
“If you had told Jude about Keith’s wife, do you think that would have stopped things between Jude and Keith?” I asked. “I mean, have you ever stopped to think what might have happened if the shit did not hit the fan the way it did? In public, with Keith’s wife and the cops involved?”
She sniffed again and gave me a questioning look. “What do you mean?”
“Think about this,” I said, one finger up. “If you had told Jude that Keith was married, two things might have happened. One, she would have confronted him but continued seeing him, probably because he would have convinced her that he was going to leave his wife for her.”
“Jude would not have fallen for that line of shit,” Izzy said.
“Okay, then let’s look at the other thing that might have happened. She would have told him to fuck off and he would have gone off the deep end faster and deeper, and who knows what he might have done. Someone like Keith Calloway might do anything when pushed into a corner. You’ll never know what he might have done.”
“He tried to attack her in a fucking parking lot in broad daylight,” Izzy said, the anger returning to her voice. “If you had not have shown up, who knows what might have happened.”
“Right, but consider this,” I said, the finger back in the air. “What if she had tried to break up with him in private? Rather than the big commotion at the natatorium which involved Keith’s wife and the cops, what if Jude had confronted him in private. What do you think someone like Keith might have done if there were no witnesses around?”
Izzy’s eyes filled with tears again. “He might have hurt her. Bad.”
“He might have,” I said, nodding slowly. “In my mind, it’s a good thing that things happened publicly, with other people around. A guy like that, crazy enough to confront her in a public parking lot in broad daylight, who knows what he might have done if he got her alone somewhere.”
“So, you’re saying that it was better for things to have happened like they did, rather than her learning about his wife from me and confronting him in private.”
“That is what I’m saying,” I said with a firm nod. “And that’s what I believe. You might feel guilty about knowing beforehand that Keith was married, but you should be patting yourself on the back for how things turned out in the end.”
She sat silently for a moment, her arms wrapped around herself, rocking back and forth. Eventually, she looked up at me from beneath her eyebrows and smiled. “You’re not just saying this stuff, so I will let you off the hook, are you?”
I chuckled and shook my head. “I’m not sure I was ever really on the hook, but no, I’m not just trying to get on your good side. I’m telling you what I would tell anyone who told me your story.”
“Ah, so this is a therapy session,” she said, her lips breaking into a broad smile.
“You might consider it that,” I said. “Or you might consider it two people with a mutual friend coming together to realize that they both want the same thing. And that is for that friend to be happy and healthy.”
She smiled and dried her eyes on what was left of the tissue. “Why is it that those of us in the business of shrinking heads never take the time to get our own heads shrunk?”
“That is a great question,” I said with a smile. “And one I do not have a good answer to.”
“You’re not going to send me a bill, are you?”
I chuckled and shook my head. “No, not if you give me the benefit of the doubt when it comes to Jude.”
She eyed me as she took a deep breath. “You really do like her, don’t you?”
“I really do like her,” I said, smiling, head bobbing. “And I would never do anything to hurt her. Nor would I force her to do anything she did not want to do.” I leaned in and flexed my eyebrows at her. “Believe it or not, I’m probably as protective of Jude as you are. If Keith Calloway ever comes near her again, well…”
“You’ll kick the shit out of him and plead temporary insanity?”
“Who better to plead temporary insanity than a guy that teaches the stuff every day?” I asked.
“True that,” she said, the smile still on display.
I extended my right hand across the table. “Are we good then?”
She stared at my hand for a moment, then blew out a long breath and nodded her head. “Yeah, we good,” she said, shaking my hand with a firm grip. “Just remember, my boyfriend is the captain of the football team, so if you ever hurt my girl Jude…”
“I’ve seen your boyfriend, and point taken,” I said with a smile. “And you have nothing to worry about.” I glanced at my watch. “Okay, people will start drifting in soon. Sign them in, give them a badge, and tell them there’s coffee and water inside the meeting room.”
“Will do.” Izzy brushed the bits of torn tissue from the table and picked up the pen and sign-in sheet. “And Professor Moss?”
“Holden. Please.”
“Holden, I’m glad I got the short straw and had to be here early.”
I gave her a thumbs-up as I backed away.
“Me, too, Izzy. Me, too.”