13. Res
13
Res
“ N ow,” he asks, pausing to lick his teeth clean of the blood, “do you understand?”
The knock on my door wakes me up from my… dream? Nightmare? I can’t say I’ve been sure what to call it since Saturday, and I’m not going to ponder it now. Now, I’m going to let Zach in, cook dinner with my boyfriend, and have a nice, quiet evening.
“Hey, babe,” I say, opening the door and leaning halfway toward the man on the other side before I realize it’s not Zach.
My blood freezes as I stare up at him in terror. My mind screams danger as I look into those dark gray eyes. The same gray eyes that looked down at me as he held me at his mercy. As he threatened to ruin everything I loved if I didn’t cooperate. That I’ve seen in my dreams over and over again for the last six nights. That I see in the different shades of gray at my job’s office. Without me telling them to, my feet drag me back further into my apartment. But that’s a mistake, because it gives Jaxson room to come inside.
“I have to say,” he says as he brushes past me, “I didn’t know my efforts had made that much progress with you, but I can’t say I’m upset about it. ”
My brain finally gets online as I round on Jaxson and say, “Get the fuck out.”
“Language, Lauressa,” Jaxson says as he walks the perimeter of my apartment, running his hand along my furniture and counters as though he’s doing an inspection.
“I don’t give a shit about what you think about my language. You’ve got some fucking nerve showing up at my apartment after what you did Saturday,” I snap.
Once again, because I know Jaxson hates it, I’m making the commitment to swear as much as possible in his presence. And speaking of showing up at my apartment…
“How the fuck do you even know where I live?” I demand.
“Do you need a housekeeper?”
“What?” I ask, thrown.
“A housekeeper. Your furniture and blinds are dusty, and it needs to be vacuumed. Don’t worry, Lauressa. There’s no shame in needing help with domestic duties.”
What the fuck…
“No. No, I don’t need a housekeeper! I need you to fucking leave!”
“Keep that up, and I’ll dirty that mouth up even more for you since you like it that way,” Jaxson warns.
My heart jumps at the warning. I know better than to think he won’t. Not after Saturday. But even knowing that, I can’t stop myself from walking right up to him and saying, “Fuck. You. Jax. ”
“ Don’t call me that,” he warns .
“Jax. Jax. Jax,” I repeat, not caring how childish I sound. I only care that his lips get thinner and thinner every time I say it.
“Lauressa. I’m warning you.”
His face remains mostly neutral, but I see in his gray eyes that my flagrant disregard bothers him. That and the nickname. But that’s not enough. I want him to lose it. I need him to lose it. I need him to remind me that he’s the villain.
“A lot of talk for a man who says he’s a villain who always takes and does what he wants no matter the consequences,” I taunt, just daring him to do something. Anything.
I get my wish.
Jaxson’s hand twitches at his side.
It’s just a twitch, but for someone as in control of himself as Jaxson, he may as well have punched a hole through the wall. Saturday flashes before my eyes. Him, pressing his body against me. Pinning my wrists above my head. Taking out my period cup, drinking the contents and then proceeding to finger fuck me.
My heart races, and once again I can’t tell if it’s fear or anticipation. Because while I said no, while I wish I could have stopped him, he was also right when he said I’d like it better than anything my boyfriend has ever done to me.
“Lauressa,” Jaxson says in a dangerously calm tone.
“Res?”
Both Jaxson and I turn to my still open apartment door to find Zach standing in the doorway. Brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and mustache and beard ruffled from the paper bags ruffling against it .
“Zach,” I say, looking between him and Jaxson. “Let me get those bags for you.”
I take the bags into the kitchen while Jaxson and Zach size each other up.
“So,” Zach says, eying me. “Going to introduce me to your…”
I look between Zach and Jaxson again, not sure how to answer. I haven’t… I didn’t tell Zach about what happened Saturday. I haven’t told anyone. I’m not going to. Not with so much at stake. If I have to be the sacrificial lamb for the sake of thousands of others who benefit from the work I’m involved in, so be it. Besides, even if I were going to tell anyone, I don’t know how. Because even though I can describe what happened, I don’t know what happened.
Jaxson assaulted me.
But I’ve also missed the warmth of the embrace he gave me afterward.
For some reason, I look to Jaxson, who must take pity on me because he answers, “Work colleague.”
“Oh. You’re her coworker?”
“No.”
I roll my eyes. For someone who says that it was him getting away with lying as a child that made him realize what his parents were teaching him was bullshit, he sure is reluctant to use that skill to help me. But maybe that’s the point.
“He’s one of One Humanity’s partners,” I say quickly. “He’s here to discuss something about our next event.”
“Oh. That’s the Halloween one, right?” Zach asks.
“You remembered?” I say in surprise .
“Of course, babe. You booked my band for it.”
And of course, the only reason he remembered is because it serves his own interests and goals. Not because it’s important to me. But because of his band. Not that I hate that he cares about his band and has dreams and ambitions outside of me. I have stuff outside of him too. But I take interest in his interests. I remember when he’s booked a huge venue or opening act or when he’s releasing an album. Some reciprocation would be nice even when it has nothing to do with him.
I swallow my disappointment and continue, “Anyway, yeah. He was here to discuss logistics about that. Totally forgot about it when I agreed to cook dinner with you. He was just leaving.”
“I don’t wish to impose on your date, Lauressa”—He absolutely does—“But the Sovereignty is finalizing its expenditure for the rest of the year tomorrow. If we don’t settle this today, I can’t guarantee we’ll be able to help fund the Halloween festival the way we’d both like them to.”
Now he wants to lie for me.
“Hey. No big deal. Stay. The more help the better. We might have bitten off more than we can chew with eggplant parmesan this late in the evening,” Zach jokes.
Somehow, I get the feeling Zach sees this as much more of a big deal than he’s letting on if the way he keeps sizing up Jaxson is anything to go by. But I’m not getting in between this battle of testosterone. Let them have at it.
“I’ll stay. But I don’t cook,” Jaxson says .
“Why not?” I ask. If he’s going to force his presence on me, he’s going to be useful.
“My mother didn’t see the value in teaching me,” Jaxson answers.
That’s his way of saying that cooking isn’t one of the duties of men in the Sovereignty. Considering he knows his cult’s doctrine is bullshit, that means there’s nothing stopping him except the fact that he’s never done it.
“Then you can do dishes. That way we don’t have to clean up afterward,” Zach suggests.
“I don’t do that either.”
Hence the housekeeper comment. Of course.
“First time for everything,” I say sweetly. “You can shred the cheese. That’s not too taxing.”
I get the rotary cheese cutter out the cabinet and sit it on the counter while Zach gets started prepping the eggplant.
“Don’t they sell cheese already shredded?” Jaxson asks.
“And this is how I know you don’t cook. No self-respecting chef buys pre-shredded cheese. It doesn’t stretch the same,” I say as I show him how to use the rotary shredder. “Make sure not to press down too hard or the cheese will come out too thick and get jammed in the rotary.”
Once Jaxson is grudgingly occupied shredding the cheese, I take the washed eggplant that Zach left for me on the counter and begin to slice it while he makes the tomato sauce.
And now, since Jaxson has promised to sponsor the Halloween Festival, I might as well milk his money for all it’s worth .
“With the Sovereignty sponsoring the Halloween Festival, that means we can do that Haunted House. We thought we’d have to cut it,” I say.
“What does this Haunted House entail?” Jaxson asks.
“You know. Ghosts. Gore. The typical Halloween stuff,” I answer.
“What’s the ‘typical Halloween stuff?’”
I throw Jaxson an incredulous look. What the hell does he mean what’s the typical Halloween stuff?
“You know,” Zach says, turning to give Jaxson the same look I’m giving him. “Halloween?”
Jaxson looks at both of us like we’re the confused ones.
“I know what Halloween is. The Sovereignty just didn’t celebrate it. So I’m not sure what the specifics entail beyond getting candy from strangers who might also give you drugs,” Jaxson says mockingly. So I’m pretty sure I don’t have to correct him on the “drugs in the candy” myth.
“Where the fuck did you find this guy, Res?” Zach mutters.
I glare at Zach before turning back to Jaxson, trying to figure out how to explain the concept of a haunted house to someone who never celebrated Halloween of all things.
“Have you ever watched a Halloween movie?” I ask.
“Why would I have?”
“Oh, boy,” I say. “Forget helping cook. Get my laptop from my bag, will you? Then type haunted house into Google. Wait? Do I need to explain to you what a ghost is? A werewolf? Vampire? Zombie? ”
Jaxson glares at me, and I lift my hands in surrender.
Teaching my stalker, who is trying to force me to join his cult, what a haunted house is was not on my bingo card for the year. But nothing has been normal since I booked a flight to Chicago to interview a cult leader.
I spend the next ten minutes using Google as a visual aid to show Jaxson the concept of a haunted house. But once he gets the concept that it’s supposed to be scary because people find it fun to experience fear when there’s nothing to fear, he starts contributing ideas of his own.
“For someone whose religion doesn’t believe in Halloween, you sure are eager to participate,” I point out as I type the logistics and ideas for the haunted house into my phone.
“Sometimes, it’s in the interests of the Sovereignty to participate in things that endear us to the people we’re trying to serve. At the end of the day, Halloween appears to be relatively harmless if a little senseless and without purpose overall.”
“It does have purpose. It’s fun,” I say. Then, “Did you ever watch any Halloween or horror movies? Halloweentown ? Nightmare Before Christmas ? Scream ? The Omen ?” I gasp. “Have you ever listened to ‘Thriller?’”
“No,” Jaxson replies.
I can’t help but grin. “Oh, you sweet summer child.”
Before I can say anything else, Zach interrupts, “Babe. The eggplant is burning.”
I jump up from where I’m leaning on the counter and drop my phone. He’s right. It is .
“Zach, you were looking right at it. Why didn’t you flip it for me or tell me sooner?” I ask.
“Didn’t want to interrupt your important meeting,” he hisses.
Zach’s tone brings me to the realization that I’ve been pretty much ignoring him, consumed by teaching Jaxson about Halloween of all things, even if it is for a good cause. That’s to say, I’ve been ignoring my boyfriend to give attention to the cult leader who’s been stalking me and then some.
“I’m—”
“If you were feeling left out, you were more than welcome to give your input into the matter,” Jaxson suggests, cutting me off.
“Jaxson,” I warn. Not that he’s intimidated by me.
“I don’t have any input. I was just saying,” Zach snaps back.
“He is… He is right though,” I say reluctantly. Because the last thing I ever want to do is admit that Jaxson is right about anything. “You could have some input. I’d like—”
“Oh my God. Babe. I don’t care about your stupid little change-the-world-one-community-outreach-event-at-a-time thing. I just wanted to cook dinner, eat, and get laid,” he snaps at me.
I turn from the eggplant again to look at Zach, stunned.
I always knew Zach wasn’t one for engaging with me about the things I cared about. I suspected he couldn’t care less about the things I cared about. He was also never the best company. But he was some of the rare company and social interaction I got outside of work and friends who still attend Loving Eden. He was also okay at sex, even if he wasn’t giving me mind-shattering orgasms every time .
But it’s one thing to know in my head that he’s not that great. In my head, I could excuse it as my anxiety making me think I’m annoying or doing something wrong. Because if he didn’t want to be here, he wouldn’t be. If he didn’t want to hear me ramble about my work, he’d tell me to be quiet. But it’s another thing to hear him say out loud that he doesn’t care. That’s…
“Oh,” I say quietly.
Realization dawns on Zach’s face, and he quickly backtracks.
“Wait, Res. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I came all the way down here to see you, and you’re giving all your attention to this guy and—”
“If you have a problem with ‘this guy,’ you could be a man and take it up with him instead of taking it out on Lauressa,” Jaxson says, having rounded the counter to stand behind me.
I face Jaxson to tell him not to make things worse only to freeze at the cold look in his eyes. Even last Saturday, when he had me pinned to the metal wall of a truck and was angry at me, he didn’t look like that. Which makes me wonder if he wasn’t really angry at all.
Jaxson puts a hand on my arm. It’s surprisingly comforting. Then he says over my head to Zach, “I think you owe Lauressa an apology. Right. Now.”
“Stay out of me and my girlfriend’s relationship,” Zach snaps.
“Apologize.”
Jaxson’s tone is a growl as he enunciates each syllable of the word.
“Or what?” Zach demands, trying to shove me aside to get to Jaxson .
Jaxson catches me before I can fall into the stove and burn my hand. Then he carefully places me behind him.
“No,” I say, shoving myself back between them. “Both of you. Stop. Stop right now.”
Jaxson, to his credit, stays in place while still glaring murder at Zach. Zach, on the other hand, tries to get past me.
“Zach,” I say, placing my hands on his chest. “He’s not worth it.”
“Is he? Or are you just trying not to make your new bank mad?”
“What?” I ask, confused.
“What did you do to get him to donate all that money to your causes anyway? Fuck him? Was that what you were about to do when I came in earlier?”
“Zach? Where is this coming from? Of course not. We—”
“I’m not blind, you whore. I saw how you were looking at him.”
“Okay. Now you’re being insane. Jaxson. I think you should leave,” I say.
“If you think I’m leaving you with your angry boyfriend so he can use you as a punching bag because he can’t punch me, you have another thing coming,” Jaxson says, calm as ever.
I hate the fact that Jaxson’s statement comforts me.
Zach tries to lunge at him again, but I continue to stand in the way .
“You know what. Fine,” Zach says as he leaves the kitchen and grabs his things at the door.
“Zach. Babe, wait!” I call.
But Zach doesn’t listen as he stomps out my apartment, slamming the door behind him.
I round on Jaxson and shout, “Are you happy now, asshole?!”
Jaxson huffs, gaze fixated on the door Zach just stormed out of. “You can’t tell me it’s a terrible loss.”
“You fucking bastard. Get out! Get out right now, Jax !” I yell.
I expect him to do anything but get out. I expect him to throw me against the wall and teach me the lesson I clearly didn’t learn Saturday. But I don’t care. Let him. Because maybe after he violates me again, he'll give me the hug I desperately need from someone right now.
To my surprise, he grabs his suit coat and leaves.
I crouch down to bury my face in my hands.
So much for a nice, quiet evening.