Chapter 14
Lucy
To say I was worried about Boston was an understatement. Three days the migraine lasted. By the time I finally got him to go in to the doctor, he could barely move. Vomiting, random nosebleeds, memories—they kept him in bed, in our now pitch black house. The medication was helping, but he couldn’t stand to take it. The doctor said this was normal for what he’d been through, but I hated seeing him in so much pain. To make matters worse, he took me going back to work harder than I had hoped.
With the blackouts occurring more and more, driving me was out of the question. That left me taking the truck, leaving him at home. I half expected to walk in and have him curled in the covers. When I reset the alarm and went upstairs, I eased to a stop. He was sitting on the sofa with popcorn, watching a movie. Beer bottles were on the coffee table and I shook my head, surprised.
“Someone’s feeling better, I see.”
Boston jumped, spinning in my direction. He usually heard everything. Even the lightest sigh. But not this time, and the guilt on his face nearly stopped my heart. I didn’t understand it, but I knew what I saw.
“Yes. Sorry, I was…” He quickly clicked off the TV and stood as he came over, kissing me. “How was work?”
“Fine.” I pointed to the television. “What was that?”
He fidgeted. “Nothing. Just one of my films. It’s no big deal. With school starting in a few weeks, I wanted to get caught up on projects I’ve made. Tell me about work.”
“Can I watch it?”
“That?” Again, he shifted. “You don’t want to see that. It’s horrible.”
Suspicion grew. His head lowered, and finally, through the silence, his eyes lifted to me.
“Lucy, you can’t watch it.”
“Why not?”
Silence.
“Boston.”
“You just can’t, okay?”
I grabbed the remote from his hand, stomping around the sofa. Before I could click the button, he had me around the waist, spinning and pinning me to the black leather couch. The remote fell to the floor with a thud. Weight increased against my wrists, and his knees forced my thighs apart while he settled between them.
My thrash did little to deter him. Lips met mine brutally, and he let go of one of my hands to jerk up my uniformed shirt so he could squeeze my breast.
“I want to see what you were watching.”
“And I want you to kiss me back.”
“Then show me what you’re hiding.”
Boston’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not hiding anything. And it’s really not a movie, per say. It’s more…a documentary.”
“On what?”
More hesitation. When I didn’t budge, he sighed. “You really want to see?”
“Well, hmmm…yeah, of course I do.”
His features sharpened, not looking very happy. “Fine. One condition.”
“What’s that?”
“I get to have you while you watch.”
“Fine.”
My waist rocked as he tugged at the button of my black pants. I let him pull them off, and he bent, grabbing the remote and clicking the button. A circle of chairs rested in what looked like someone’s living room. Men and women of different ages and ethnicities filled the seats. There was even a small child. A younger Boston had my pulse pounding even more. His hair was longer than it was now, but not by much.
“Hey, that’s you.”
He pulled my panties off, rubbing his finger from my entrance to my clit. He didn’t speak, but I didn’t expect him to. He was focused. Touching and getting me wetter as his digits rubbed over my folds.
“Now that we heard from Maria, let’s move to the next. Perry, you’re new. Do you want to tell everyone when you started having these disturbing thoughts?”
My head lifted, only stopping because of Boston’s shoulder. He was kissing my neck. Sucking against it. Confusion swarmed, but I lay it back down, closing my eyes and listening as a finger slid inside me.
“I think I’ve always had them.”
“Why don’t we start at the beginning? Can you tell us the first memory you have where you knew maybe you weren’t like everyone else?”
He paused. “I guess I was four. It was late. I’m not sure how late. I can remember the hallway being so dark. I could barely see. There were sounds coming from my parents’ bedroom. At the time, I knew it was my mother, but I wasn’t sure what was wrong with her. I was afraid. I’m not sure how long I stood outside the door, but I finally got the courage to open it. When I did, I saw her…bouncing on someone. A man. He wasn’t my father. They were kissing, and she was naked. The sight…I can’t even remember walking to my father’s gun cabinet. It was locked, but I was going to kill them. I wasn’t afraid at that point. I wanted to. I wanted to so much, I cried when I couldn’t get the large door open.”
“What is this?” My voice was breathless. Boston nibbled on my ear, sliding another finger in me as he pushed deep.
“A side of me you never knew.” He lifted, looking at the screen, but stayed only inches from my face. Beer filled my senses, but I focused back on the screen as he spoke. “I hid my camera. No one knew I was recording. You see, these meetings were confidential. Secret. No judgment—no matter what you shared.”
He grabbed the remote, hitting the fast-forward button until he came to a man appearing on the screen. The rubbing inside me continued, and he went back to sucking and biting against the junction of my shoulder as I gasped. I knew that man!
“Jeff, would you like to contribute this week?”
“Jeff?” My eyes widened, and I shifted underneath him uncomfortably. Lust twisted with concern—fear.
“We never used our real names. Listen, Lucy.”
“Sure. Why, not.” Boston sat straighter, leaning forward to rest his forearms just above his knees. “I stayed at my friend’s house again last night. For those who don’t know, it’s not my friend I care for. Actually, I can’t fucking stand him. His little sister is the reason I’m there. Her name is Lucy. The first time I saw her, she was five. I was always a private child. I never felt the need for friends or companionship. But there was something about this little girl. She was…beautiful. My mind says angel. That’s how I viewed her. So innocent. So pure.
“Her brother, he pushed her. I can remember stopping as if my feet were cemented to the ground. It’s like the entire world froze in time as her tiny little body fell through the air. Just like the flowers in the tree above her. They fell. She fell. She was the first person I ever felt anything for. Hate, disgust, I knew those from the earliest times. Her…I loved her before she even connected with the ground.
“We were inseparable from that moment on. If I wasn’t at school, I was at my friends—watching her, watching her, always watching. Waiting. Still, I wait. She’s thirteen now. She grows, but I…” He swallowed hard, rubbing his hands together as if agitated. “Waiting is the hardest. It’s worse than death. She can’t know how I feel. No one can. I shouldn’t want to kiss her or touch her, but I’d be lying if I said didn’t want to. Or that I hadn’t. My heart…fuck, my heart hurts. To not confess my feelings when she notices me for more than I am…she wants me too. I can see it. Despite her age, she knows we’re meant to be together. The way she looks at me, it increases that…fucking anger. If she were older, or I was younger…”
“Jeff, you mentioned staying there last night. Did you find your way into her room again?”
I wiggled under Boston, flattening my palm against his cheek as I pushed his head up so he had to look at me.
“Of course I did. That night. Every night I’m there. I watch her sleep. Sometimes, I ease into bed and just hold her. She’s such a hard sleeper. She never even knows. Once, when I was holding her, she turned and wrapped her arm around me. I thought I was going to have a heart attack. It would have been the perfect death. Her smell…strawberries. Sweet, just like her.”
“B-Boston?” My mouth stayed parted. Shock kept me from thinking. Thoughts wouldn’t come. Nothing would as he moved toward my face at a leisurely pace and rubbed the tip of his nose against mine.
“It was always you, Lucy. I’ve told you that.”
“But…”
“Shhh. Any questions you have, I won’t have the answers to. It hasn’t all come back yet. Just take that as proof. My loyalty has always been to you. Always. There’s never been anyone else. There never will be.” His lips pressed into mine, and mine parted even more as his fingers withdrew, only to begin thrusting again. With his other hand, he reached and turned off the television.
My heart thumped wildly. Think. Think. So many questions, but they were having a hard time getting through with the way he was touching me. How did I not wake up? How did I not see how strong his feelings were? What else didn’t I know? No…what else did, or didn’t, he know?
“Wait.”
“I’ve been waiting for days. I’ve missed this. Just kiss me.”
“Boston.”
I pushed against his shoulders, and he rose, a serious look on his face. “I told you not to watch. What do you want me to say? I don’t know the guy on the tape. He doesn’t seem like me. I don’t even remember that day or really anything about those meetings except it was a private place where I could confess what was so hard for me to deal with. Like therapy. God, were you not listening, Lucy? Did you not see how hard it was for me?”
“No, I saw. You said you came to my room every night. You laid in my bed next to me.” I crawled back to a sitting position, unable to withhold my question. “Did you ever…? I mean…you said…what did you mean you touched me? Like…taking advantage?”
Nothing registered on his face. Not a single emotion.
“Of course not.”
“Are you lying to me? You said…”
“Well, I obviously don’t remember much, but from what I do recall, no. I probably meant in general.”
“You’re lying,” I whispered.
My brow drew in, and although I had no clue whether he was telling me the truth or not, I played on the fact that he might be truly hiding something.
“Lucy, I held you. I smelled your hair. I waited. I fucking waited!” I jumped, and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I knew better than to fuck up,” he said, calmer. “Doing something stupid would have caused me to lose you. I can’t lose you. I’ve waited my entire life for us to get to this point. I just want us to be happy.” His arms came out toward me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell and scare you. Come sit with me. Let me hold you.”
“I feel like I don’t even know you.”
“Join the club.”
The frown he gave had me hesitantly crawling over. I was confused. I loved him. I had always loved him. Would I still if I had woken up to find him in my bed all those years ago? Would I have been afraid and told my mom so she could ban him from our house? Would the girl in me have falsely loved him more because he had chosen me even then? In some sick, twisted way, I didn’t want to know the answer to that. It was wrong. All of it was on a level I couldn’t even grasp. Boston said he loved me. Love wasn’t always good. My mom loved my dad until the day she died. Maybe he was a big part of why she’d killed herself. Love was poisonous when paired with pain. It turned toxic. Into mad love. Obsessive love.