Chapter 17 #2
I sit up again, gripping my phone tight enough to snap it in half. I’m suddenly seeing red with a strange sense of rage and protectiveness. “He fucking hurt you?” I hiss.
“Yeah… it’s TMI, so… I just need to… calm down a bit.”
“TMI or not, I want to know exactly what happened. I need to know. What did that bastard fucking do to you?”
He faces the camera again, and his eyes are red and wet.
“I don’t think he meant to hurt me. He… somehow fucking thought it was a good idea to do breath play without my consent.”
My brows shoot straight up. You know Seth is hurting if he’s swearing. “Who in their right fucking mind would do that without first talking about it? Jesus. I don’t blame you for giving him the boot. The dude was already a walking and talking red flag.”
“I’m seeing that now. No, I saw them; I just… wanted to trust him when he asked for forgiveness. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. God, I’m so out of touch when it comes to dating.” He sniffs again and blows his nose with a wadded-up tissue. “Cal?”
“Yeah, Tiger.” I shut my eyes to control my inner rage on Seth’s behalf.
“It was bad. I… passed out. I thought… I thought I was going to die. All I could think about was my kids.”
He passed out? Oh, that fucker’s going to pay. “What’s his full name? I want details. He’s going to face the fucking consequences. It’s not beneath me to make him suffer.”
“Just… let it go.”
“Fuck that!” I boom. I look around to make sure no one is listening in, then I calm my tone. “The asshole needs to be in jail.”
“He didn’t mean it.”
“Ignorance is absolutely no excuse. If you had died, he would’ve faced those consequences.”
I grab my drink and chug back the rest. I raise my glass to my server to order another. It has to be my last one.
“Did you go to the doctor?” I ask him.
“Yeah, the skin is bruised. So is my trachea. But there’s no lingering damage.”
“Maybe physically you’ll be fine. But what about psychologically?”
“I… I don’t know. I’m not doing so hot right now, mentally speaking. It was terrifying. I was so scared.”
“No fucking doubt. That idiot. Does he have any idea how dangerous breath play is?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care. I’ll be happy never to see him again. If it makes you happy, the hospital had to report it to the police. I told them everything, but I have no idea where it goes from here. I don’t want to press charges. Not just for his son, but for me. Let’s let it go. Please.”
“Only because you asked nicely. That fucking bastard. I can’t promise I won’t say or do anything if I see him again.
He’s fucking lucky New Orleans and the surrounding areas have nearly a million people.
Otherwise…” I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.
These feelings coursing through me are unusual.
I don’t get like this. I can’t remember when I got protectively enraged.
All I’m seeing is fucking red. “Didn’t you say a friend of yours set you up? ”
“Yeah, my friend, Edmundo, thought we’d make a good match. I don’t think he would know that about Leo.”
“You need to tell him.”
“I will.”
Seth digs the tip of his finger into the corner of his eye and sighs. “Cal? A part of me feels wrong, like… I’m vanilla or something. Like I’m overreacting.”
The server sets my glass on the little table next to me and takes away my empty one. I wait for her to leave before responding.
“Don’t start gaslighting yourself. There are enough crazies in this world to do that for you.
This isn’t about vanilla or kink. This is about consent, respect, and communication, or a lack thereof.
No matter how you look at it, he assaulted you.
” I used to tease Seth in my head about his vanilla ways, but there’s nothing wrong with enjoying those things.
“Besides, sometimes vanilla is nice. You like a little missionary there, Tiger?” I waggle my brows at him to get him to smile, even though I’m still raging inside.
It works. He smiles wetly, but it’s there. “Yeah, sometimes.”
“Vanilla can be as good as chocolate. Just sprinkle in a few nuts, and you’re good to go.”
He snorts a laugh, but there’s no humor in his eyes. “You’re so weird.”
I chuckled. “So you keep saying. I think you secretly like it.”
“I do.” He doesn’t even hesitate when he says that.
There goes my stomach, doing that weird dipping thing again. “I wish I’d been at home when it happened. You’re always taking care of me. I would’ve done the same for you.”
He smiles again, making me feel better about his state. “I know you would if you were here. It’s fine. Take care of Braeden. He needs you more than ever.”
“Yeah, he’s had a setback, but we knew he would.”
“I’ll see you when you get back into town.”
“Bye, Tiger.”
“Bye, Joker.”
My fingers touch the now black screen as if his face is still there. I’m so pissed, but I’m appeased knowing Seth will be okay, at least physically.
I’m doing whatever it takes to keep my shit together.
I knew I’d be filled with anxiety as soon as I knocked on my mother’s front door.
Fuck, it’s weird to be back. Memories hit me hard.
As I’ve come to understand my mother and what she’s really like, I think more about all the shit she’s done to me over the years.
Anything good eventually gets forgotten.
I quickly sit up in bed, rubbing my eyes, when my mother barges in.
“Get the hell up.”
“Oh, okay.”
I bring my legs over the edge of the bed and yawn. I’m trying to be calm to keep her calm, but inside, my stomach twists, and anxiety is starting to hit me. If she’s angry before I even wake up, this is going to be bad.
“Get dressed. I need help cleaning the house today.”
“But I have to get to work in two hours.”
I have a job at The Gap. I like it. It pays pretty well, and I’m saving up to get one of those new Apple iPods.
“You’re going to go in and quit. I need you here.”
My heart sinks. I drop my head and nod. I don’t want to quit, but I have to keep her happy. The happier she is, the easier she is on me.
“Okay,” I say as she leaves my room, closing the door behind her.
I hate it here. I can’t wait until I’m off to college next year.
I take a quick shower, shave, get dressed in a pale blue button-up tucked into a pair of dark wash jeans, and head downstairs for breakfast.
Mom’s pouring herself some orange juice at the kitchen counter while I make a bowl of cereal. When I sit down at the small, scratched kitchen table, we don’t say a word to each other.
After I finish eating, I have to go. I stand to put my bowl into the dishwasher and say, “I’ll tell them as soon as I get there that I quit.”
The next thing I know, I’m covered in a full glass of orange juice.
I’m dripping with it. It’s in my hair, burning my eyes, and my clothes are soaked.
For the first time, I’m filled with fucking rage.
I am doing exactly as she asked me! It’s not the first time she’s lashed out like that, but it’s like the orange juice is the last straw, a catalyst for my frustration.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!” I yell.
Her angry eyes are downcast, and her fists are clenched. That’s the look of someone who knows they’re wrong but is fighting it or refusing to admit it. “I thought you were talking back.”
“I wasn’t! You said for me to quit my job, and I told you I would! Jesus!”
She says nothing when I walk over to the kitchen phone hanging on the wall. I lift the receiver and dial in to work.
“Thank you for calling The Gap. This is Monica.” She’s the store manager.
“Hey, Monica, this is Cal. Look, I’m running late. I stupidly dumped my cereal onto my lap, and I’ve got to get cleaned up. I’ll be in as soon as I can.”
“No worries. Thanks for calling, Cal.”
After we hang up, I turn to leave the kitchen, but Mom grabs my arm to stop me. “Thank you for not telling them.”
I say nothing, pull out of her grasp, and leave to shower again.
That was the day I realized I hated my mother. I ended up forgiving her because I always forgive her. But that specific memory was what shifted our relationship. I stopped trying to please her after that. We’ve been even more strained since.
Braeden threads his fingers through my arm and grabs my biceps when my mother answers the door. She looks older than when I’d seen her over Christmas, almost a year ago.
Her hair is still frosted blond, and her eyes are green like mine. She’s always been a beautiful woman. She still is at sixty-five. Too bad she’s ugly on the inside.
“Well, you’re actually here. Surprising.” Before I can get defensive, she smiles brightly. “And you must be Braeden. It’s so nice to meet you, sweetheart.”
“Hello.”
“Come in. Come in.”
Her putting on her charms is hardly surprising. Everyone who meets her likes her.
We step inside to memories from hell. Every corner of the home brings them all back like a sledgehammer, and my anxiety skyrockets.
But one thing I’m good at is blocking out the noise long enough to get through whatever I need to.
Later on, I’ll find something to distract me and bring me happiness until I feel better, since sex is currently off the table.
For the rest of the day, we have lunch and talk. Mostly, Mom does the talking about herself and how great a mother she was to me. Braeden sat quietly and only answered questions when asked. He clung to me the entire time, not letting me go, which was a sure sign he was stressed.
At least she wasn’t entirely an asshole, so I came away from that rather unscathed, except for being home again. I never want to step into that house again, if I can help it. I can’t believe it’s been fifteen years since I’ve been here. It’s… suffocating.
It’s just after four in the afternoon, so Braeden and I decide to drive the five hours back home. I’m eager to get back, too. I need to check in on Seth.
My eyes are focused on the road, and both hands are on the wheel as I drive through Houston. You have to pay full attention around here. They drive like fucking maniacs.
“I don’t like her,” he says out of the blue. “Sorry.”
First, I snort a laugh. Then, all of a sudden, I’m in a fit of laughter. I’m laughing so much that even Braeden cracks a smile. It’s not even that funny, but I’m in a weird mood. “It’s okay, kiddo. I don’t like her that much myself.”
His dislike of her shows his level of emotional intelligence. I can’t wait for the day he feels better and opens up to me. I bet he’s an interesting kid.