I CAN’T LOOK AT HIM.
Embarrassment heats my face because I don’t want to answer him. It was bad enough when I had to explain it as a stupid heartbroken teenager, but I’m an adult now. It was dumb back then but even more idiotic now. Shamefully, I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut.
“Baby, nobody gets to hurt you. Ever. And that includes you, too.”
“What do you mean?”
He grabs my hands and turns them over then kisses my wrists, directly over the faint scarring. “It means that you doing this to yourself was because you were hurting. And you took what was inside your beautiful head and tried to take it away by marring your beautiful body.”
My teeth sink into my lip, and I shake my head. I’m not denying anything, but I need to do something to avoid looking at him.
“Livvie, you have me now. And that means if anybody, including yourself, tries to hurt you, I won’t respond very well. I love you. The good, the bad, and all the things between. I love who you are today, and it’s because of who you were and the experiences you went through to make you this amazingly beautiful person. I look forward to falling even more in love with who you’re going to become. But even more, I love who you are when you give me all of you.”
I close my eyes and nod in understanding.
“Please don’t hurt yourself again. This isn’t an option, but I’m going to say it anyway.” He gives my hands a tug, and I give him the respect of looking at him while he’s spouting off freakin’ poetry. “Even if this didn’t work out and we broke up, I’d still be here for you. That’ll never change. Do you understand me? Nothing will ever change that.”
“Okay. I won’t. I know it was stupid and—”
“It wasn’t stupid. Nothing you feel is stupid.”
A large breath releases from my lungs, taking along with it a weight I hadn’t even realized was holding me down. “Nobody knew how bad it got at school. Girls can be so mean and the guys… they’re intimidating. I was afraid since everyone already thought I was a whore, they’d… you know.” I shrug.
“I know. And I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
“I just didn’t want to burden anyone with my problems. My parents had enough on their plate… Sorry, that was a bad analogy since they didn’t even have enough to eat to put on a plate. The point is, they had enough to worry about.”
His lips find mine in a soft, sweet kiss full of promise. “Never a burden to me, sweetie. Promise me you’ll never do that again.”
“Promise.”
Trying to get away from him, I tug my arms, but they don’t budge. “Let me go,” I whisper.
“What?” From my viewpoint, I can see his knees bend. “Can’t hear you, love.”
God, I love it when he calls me that. Or sweet pea. Or baby. He distributes the pet names evenly, and I love not knowing what he’s going to call me. Without raising my head, I tug at my arms and say, “Let me go.”
“Still can’t hear you. Because if I did correctly, you just told me to let you go, and there’s no fuckin’ way that’s happening. I haven’t touched you for three goddamned years, Livvie.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” I finally lift my head. “It’s been one thousand, one hundred and twenty-two goddamned days, Jay. I know how much time has passed. I know exactly how long it’s been since you let Brandon drag me away and throw me into the back of a fucking car! Away from my family. You took everything away from me! You let him take me away!” I scream the last few words at him and yank my hands, effectively freeing them this time and trying to push him away, but of course, he doesn’t budge.
“Let you?” He hisses. “You think I let you? Do you have any fucking idea how hard that was for me? How it nearly killed me to do that? It hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt in my entire fucking life, Livvie.”
“Hurt you?” I shove his chest. “Hurt you!” I scream. “I was the one forced to abandon everything and everyone I love without even the decency of a fucking conversation! You left me all alone.” I ball my hands in fists and pound on his chest. “You hurt me!”
“Ya know what would have hurt worse, Livvie?” He grabs my wrists to stop me pummeling him. “You ever been fucked in the ass so hard you bleed?”
“What?”
“She bleed when you fuck her ass?” I gag at his disgusting words, not understanding why he’s talking to me like this.
“Jay? What the hell? What are you talking about?”
He pokes me in the chest, hard enough to almost hurt. “That was just one of the things Marco wanted to do to you. I kept my shit, Livvie. I swear I kept my shit together until he laughed. He fucking laughed at me. “It’s all good. I’ll make sure to tear her up so she has scars, and every time you stick your face in her cunt, you’ll be reminded I was there.”
I didn’t even realize my stomach could bottom out so fast, but gauging by the hollow pit, it can be instantaneous to finally hearing the actual threat Marco made.
His hand slaps against his chest, leaving a huge red mark darker than the little ones left from my fists. “He fucking knew how I’d react. I fucked up!” His hand connects with his chest again, but this time it’s his fist. “I couldn’t hold my shit together because the thought of something like that happening to you, of somebody hurting you like that makes me in-fucking-sane.
“He would have done that to you, Livvie. That and so much more. Woulda made you wish he’d just have killed you.” He steps back and runs a hand through his hair. I have to physically stop myself from going to him. God, I want to hate him right now. It’s so much easier than being hurt and vulnerable. “And you know how I know? Can you guess how I know how that would affect you?” He accentuates his question by leaning closer. “I know because that was what happened to my sister. That sick fuck stuck his dick—”
Oh, my God. Poor Mellie. “Stop,” I whisper.
He ignores my plea. “Fuckin held her down and—”
“Stop.” A whole new set of tears threatens as I plead for him to shut up. “Please, stop.”
“And the guy who did my sister wasn’t even near, not even close to the level of psychotic that Marco was.” He sighs and flexes his hands. “I’ll only do this with you once, Olive, so listen good. I wish there was another way, but the second he saw you sitting at my desk, the game started. If there was another way I could have done things, I would have, but there wasn’t anything else I could do. I did what I had to do to keep you alive. I will not apologize for keeping you safe.”
His tongue moistens his lips. “Be pissed at me all you want, won’t be the first time, but I ain’t playin’ this game where you hold this shit over my head. You might have lost a few years with your family and with me, but losing those is a helluva lot better than losing the rest of your fucking life!” His hand slaps the wall next to my head before I push him away.
I don’t know what to say. I’m disgusted and angry and sad. I don’t want to talk about the threats. If they’re over, I don’t want to talk about them; I don’t want to imagine them. But I do need to know one thing. “Is he still alive?”
“No. He’s dead.”
I assumed that much by him even being here, but hearing the words is liberating. My lip quivers, and I fight the burn in the back of my throat. “How?”
“Put three holes in him.”
“You?”
“Yes, me.”
“So it’s really over?”
“Yes, Livvie. It’s really over. Ending him wasn’t difficult at all. If I had to do it again, I’d have made it more painful for him, but considering what he was about to do to one of my undercover agent’s pregnant girlfriend, I couldn’t do that.”
It takes more than just my jaw muscles to keep my mouth closed right now. How casually he just said that is shocking. We stand here. Him leaning on the wall across from me in my short hallway. His shoulders sag, so not indicative of the man he is. The robe I threw on in the bathroom does little to cover any skin, and I cross my arms as if to protect me even though I know I don’t need it from him.
“How. Long?” he asks again.
“It doesn’t matter.” I drop my arms, hiding the scars. “It’s over now, right?”
“It matters, Livvie. God, it matters.” My word. The sincerity in his voice. The pure and unfiltered raw promise hits me in my heart. “You matter, sweetie. Everything about you does and that includes the bad shit, too.”
“Can I get dressed first? Maybe get a drink or something?”
His eyes flash as he takes in my body, practically nude, and his eyes stop on my nipples poking through the fabric. I don’t miss the way he licks his lips either. “Yeah, baby. Go change.”
I drop my head as I push off the wall, but as I pass him, he grabs me and pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around me and pressing his lips to the top of my head. I hear him smell my hair, and I bury my face in his chest, enjoying his scent as well.
Something about that particular sense. I see him, and I can hear him. I even tasted him again, felt him. But smelling him confirms he’s really here, and that it really is over. Almost makes it okay.
I wanted to be mad at him. I cursed him while I was here, but I know now that was just a mask for being so vulnerable. I never wanted to be without him.
With a kiss on my forehead, he releases me and heads to the living room. I rush to my bedroom and throw on a pair of comfy jeans and a t-shirt. Making a quick trip to the bathroom, I take out my contacts for good, brush my hair, and apply a quick layer of mascara and lip gloss.
By the time I make it back to the living room, Jay’s already got a beer and poured a glass of wine for me. I bypass the couch and grab my phone from the end table to send a text to Adrian letting him know I won’t be in tonight.
I start to sit in the chair, but before my butt hits the cushion, Jay calls my name. “I know you’re not about to sit that far away from me.”
Nervously, I swallow and tuck some hair behind my ear then move over to the couch. He hands me my wine, and I intentionally drink half the glass, hoping the alcohol helps calm me down fast.
Instead of waiting for him to ask me again, I jump right in to get it over with. “It was after two years. I was lost, Jay. So confused and alone. I couldn’t hold down a job. I had no friends. Nobody to talk to. I was left by myself with nothing but my thoughts and fears.” My eyes don’t avert from my fingers tapping on the stem of the glass. “All I could think about were scenarios that I didn’t even know could be true.”
“Like what?”
“Like, what if I was stuck here forever? What if the person who knew where I was died and nobody could find me? What if you died and nobody could find me? What if something happened to someone in my family—” My head snaps up, and I cover my mouth. “No… no. Who? Oh my God, who died?”
The space between his eyebrows wrinkles as he looks at me, but then he realizes the fear that’s suddenly choked me. “Livvie, no. Everyone’s fine.”
“I need to talk to them.” I jump off the couch, and in an attempt to set my glass down, I miss the table, and it shatters on the floor. Hopping over the shards, I grab my phone. “Can I call them?”
“Yeah, babe. You can call them.” He stands behind me, his arms around my waist. “I told you it’s over.” After a quick kiss on my cheek, he backs away, and I dial my parents’ house phone, the only number I have memorized, then put the phone up to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Mom.”
“Olive. Oh my God, Olive!” She screams, and I hear her call my dad. “It’s you. It’s Olive.” A rustle sounds over the phone. “Ollie? That you?”
“Yeah, Dad. It’s me.” I can’t say anything else because of my clogged throat. I wish I was there right now to hug them. Hearing their voices makes me feel like a kid again. Like knowing I have my parents’ back will make everything truly be okay.
I was so worried something would have happened to them, and I wouldn’t have known or been there for it. I think that was the worst part out of everything for me. The not knowing. I hated being away, of course, but being in the dark was torture.
Proof they’re both alive and healthy is a welcome relief that I so desperately needed. I laugh as I try to stop crying, and a few minutes pass and lots of sniffles echo through the line before any conversation resumes.
They ask me about how I’ve been, and I walk around the apartment, suddenly feeling confined. Avoiding any discussion of me, I focus solely on the family I’ve missed so much.
I hear all about the twins’ twenty-first birthday party. They tell me about their first grandchild. Mom tells me Dad had a small incident with his heart. Eventually, I just stop talking and listen as they fill me in on the years of my life that I’ve missed.
Too soon, I have to hang up because my battery is going to die, but I do it with the promise to call again tomorrow. In my bedroom, I set my phone on the nightstand to charge, but instead of going back out to talk to Jay, I sit on the bed. I don’t even have enough energy right now to walk across the room and shut the light off. I take off my shirt and jeans then slide under the covers in my undies and my ever present cami.
Feeling exactly as I did when I arrived here, I’m mentally exhausted. I feel the weight of it all simultaneously lifting up and pushing down on my shoulders. Relief that everyone in my family is good. Guilt I wasn’t there for years of events and memories. Happiness I get to go back home. Anger for being hesitant to go home because somehow, through that one phone call, I feel like an outsider. Excitement that I’m able to be myself again. And fear that the jaded person I’ve become won’t allow me to go back to the happy girl I used to be.
I hug my knees to my chest and close my eyes, praying to fall asleep so I can just block the world out and be left with nothing but my subconscious.