Chapter Forty Six #2
“Benjamin, I love you. I regret that day a lot—being too scared to accept us. For thinking I was so noble by keeping my distance like some kind of martyr. I remember every time I saw Drew touch you or every time you’d pass by me like I didn’t exist—glare like you hated me.
I deserved it all and it was horrible. I remember all of it.
You coming home all bloody, angry, scared.
Cleaning your body and holding you so you didn’t cry—replaying in my mind all the different ways I could kill your father.
We have two lifetimes worth of trauma to look back on—but more than that is every time I looked at you and wanted you—admired you—loved you. ”
I’m kissing him—I’ve done enough reminiscing now. Aaron wraps an arm around my waist, holding my cheek with his other hand.
I place a hand over his heart—feel it racing—feel how alive he is, how mine he is.
I back him up until he’s sitting on the bed, letting him pull me to straddle his lap.
His hands are running under the shirt he gave me to wear; his mouth is ravishing my neck.
My hands are in his hair as I roll my hips against his—gasping at the feel of his hardening dick against mine through our briefs.
“After I watched you shower—or when I could hear you so close to me in the next room—I’d touch myself and think of this moment.
I’d think—if I went in there right now and touched him, would he follow me in here?
Would he cry and beg? I wanted you so badly.
” He loves telling me all the ways he thought about defiling me when we were young. Again and again.
Aaron’s kissing my throat, touching the bars in my nipples. I’m trying to keep from making too much noise as I whine and gasp, rubbing myself against him desperately.
“Aaron, I love you.” I tell him—but it sounds like I’m gasping it with my last breath of air. He groans quietly against me.
“I love you too, baby. I haven’t fucked you in this bed before.” A statement. A question. An order.
“Touch me then.” I’m being a brat, I know I am. But he makes it so fun—so fucking hot to be one. Aaron pulls back to look into my eyes and I can see it there—the question. No please? “Aaron. I want you to fuck me on this bed please.” I try again and he grins, nodding just once.
“Good boy. Let’s get my clothes off you.”
◆◆◆
I can feel myself falling further and further—I know the ground is coming to meet me. My father is screaming in my ear—somehow I can still feel his hands.
“Fucking whore! You’ll end up just like her!”
I see her face as she cowers in the living room—shaking her head at me.
Her dead body is falling next to me. Ronnie’s fists are flying into me.
My face, my stomach, my back. I can barely breathe, I can barely think.
I can see the ground; I will surely die.
Only now I fear it—I don’t want it. A gunshot rings.
Ronnie’s body falls now—right alongside me and Mom. He’s dead too. I’ll be joining them. I can’t. I can’t go. This fall is taking so long, and it gives me time to remember that I have something depending on me. What is it? Fuck—I’m going to hit the ground soon. Think, Benjamin.
Black hair—green eyes—safe—safe—safe. He’ll catch me.
Aaron will catch me. I have to live for him; I can’t leave him alone. I don’t see him there on the ground. I’ll call for him—he always hears me, right?
“Aaron! Aaron! Aaron!” I keep screaming but I hear nothing. Doesn’t he always hear me? I’m going to die here with my parents—a Dickinson’s death. I love you, Aaron—please hear me.
“...Baby… wake up… Benjamin! Wake up!... Hey!” My eyes shoot open and I’m screaming. Screaming for Aaron—screaming that I don’t want to die—crying hysterically. Aaron has me in his lap where he sits on the bed, the covers around us both.
“Aaron—I was dying again. My mom and dad, their bodies were with me and I was falling. Aaron please. I can’t even close my eyes.” I’m sobbing against him—not even completely sure what I’m spewing at him.
“Hey—look at me. Benjamin, look at me.” At his stern tone I take my face from his neck and stare into his eyes.
“It’s okay now. You called for me and I woke you up.
I fixed it. I know it’s scary, but they’ll calm over time.
Until then—I’ll keep saving you before you hit the ground.
Just keep yelling for me.” Oh, fuck. I love him so much.
I could die under the weight of this love.
“Thank you—thank you. I love you.” I shove my face back into his neck and he lays us down, arms wrapped tightly around me.
“When you dream now—dream of us with our babies.” This startles me into a laugh that sounds half like a sob.
“What?!”
“What? It’s a good dream. They’ll look like both of us and we can make them pancakes together.” My heart is fluttering at his sincerity—his desire to have such a mundane life with me.
“Okay—I’ll dream of it. If I remember it tomorrow, I’ll tell you what they’re like.” Aaron pulls me even tighter against him.
“I really hope you remember.” He whispers, and then we’re falling back to sleep.
◆◆◆
After two full days at the Archer house, Aaron and I are more than ready to get back to our own.
Saying goodbye to Tina is an event as she makes us promise over five separate times to call her if something happens—anything at all.
Greg waves. So perfectly Archer. Then we load up the truck and let Fe know we’ll see him back home—ready to hit the road.
There’s only one major grocery store in Lancaster and we need to stop for a few road-trip essentials.
It’s always a bit difficult coming back here after everything with Ronnie and Drew—but Aaron is here and I’m stronger now.
Everything is fine, even if I still wake up screaming sometimes.
Just as Dr. Howard said—one day at a time—always better than the last.
“If I get an orange, will you peel it for me while I drive?” Aaron asks me—making his way through the fruit aisle.
“Sure—I like the citrus smell so the truck will smell nice.” He gives me a grin as if he knows something I don’t. Some memory from long ago tingles in the back of my consciousness. “What?”
“Nothing. I’ll get the orange. Want any?” I scan the fruit options—deciding on a container of pre-cut watermelon. “Nice choice.”
“Want to get Gatorades? I like the minis.” Aaron’s laughing but he nods anyway, following me to the drinks.
“You always like the mini version of things. Is there a reason or is it just because they’re cute?” He’s teasing me but I can’t bring myself to care when he looks this happy, this content. Before I can respond—a familiar—unfortunate voice sounds.
“Benjamin?” Drew is standing in the drink aisle—staring right at me. I can feel Aaron at my back, most likely shooting daggers at him.
“Can I help you?” I give him a blank stare, hoping he’ll get the hint. We’re having such a good day.
“I… how are you? I haven’t seen you in a while. You look great. Are you—”
“I don’t really feel like doing this today. Could you move?” I watch Drew’s bright blue eyes as they fade into something nasty—something hateful.
“You’ve changed. You used to be so sweet—so gentle. Now look at you. You’re like a gangster now.” I can’t lie. It kind of hurts hearing this. I remind myself his opinion doesn’t matter—then I’m staring him down—holding my ground.
“I think that’s enough chitchat. Goodbye, Drew.” Aaron’s voice is stern, commanding. Drew does not flinch.
“Aaron Archer. I don’t think this is any of your business.” Aaron moves to stand next to me and I watch as a sadistic, violent smile curls over his lips.
“I think you’re talking to something of mine, so it is my business, Drew Ambrose.” My chest warms and I think I might have gotten a bit hard.
“Something of yours?” Drew scoffs—turning his attention back to me. “Really? You’re walking around with some guy who talks about you like you’re his property?”
“Yes.” I don’t hesitate, blushing as I grin at him.
“It’s quite nice being owned. I’m spoiled, protected, and I get fucked every day.
Plus—Aaron’s hot. It really is a win all around.
It’s like I’m his little kitten.” Drew’s eyes have widened to a comical size as I talk, and I find that kind of hilarious.
“Wow. You really have no self-respect—do you?” Aaron steps forward and I can see him raising his knuckles to his lips, but I place my palm on his chest—stopping him mid-stride. Drew’s eyes narrow in on my hand. “Are you… Are you fucking married?” I fucking giggle.
“Almost! It’s nice, right?” He shakes his head, laughing in disbelief.
“You were fucking him the whole time—weren’t you? Behind my back.” Oh, the irony. What a tool.
“Actually Drew—no. There were several times I wanted to though. Really wanted to. And considering the kind of man you are in and outside of the bedroom, I should have. I should have let him fuck me over and over and over again. I mean—I’d be his husband soon anyway.
” Drew is fuming—face red in anger and embarrassment, hands clenched at his sides.
“You—”
“Anyway, we have lots of sex to get to, so please get out of the way. I want those mini Gatorades.” He reluctantly slides over, letting Aaron grab a pack of them, keeping his glare on Drew the entire time.
“Well, have a shit day then. Tell Sydney I said hey and that with those tits she can do a lot better than you. Oh wait, you can’t reach her anymore.
Sorry—I forgot.” I turn on my heel—hearing his string of curses behind me and not caring to register a single one.
I feel Aaron’s hand on the small of my back as we make our way to the register.
We don’t speak again until we get into the truck. As soon as both doors are closed I groan—leaning my head back on the headrest.
“That fucker is exhausting.” I complain, feeling Aaron slip a hand onto my thigh.
“Baby—” I turn and look at him. “You did so good in there. He was so freaked out. You’re so hot.”
“Yeah?” I’m grinning at him, leaning in over the console. “I thought so. Like it was super funny but also like—fuck you—you know?” He chuckles, cupping my cheek with his other hand—eyes roaming my face.
“Exactly. I can’t believe all in one conversation you told him I owned you, fucked you every day, and once again called yourself my kitten.” I flush a deep red at the last comment—looking down at his chest to avoid his gaze.
“Well, it’s true.” I mumble under my breath, ignoring his answering snicker. “But I was just being honest with him. He keeps trying to act all righteous and put us down. It’s pathetic. Just say you’re sexually frustrated and get on Tinder like other college boys.”
“That is so true, Button. So true. It’s good that you’re not sexually frustrated. I’d be fighting off a lot of horny UA students.” I hum—looking back into his eyes as my grin returns.
“You could say I’m frustrated. You could also say it can be fixed sexually.” Aaron leans forward and licks my neck—squeezes my cheeks until I open my mouth and licks at the ball on my tongue.
“Give me three hours and I can fix it. Easy peasy—no complaints. I’ll accept payment in the form of coming as deep inside of you as I can.” I groan, leaning my forehead against his.
“Drive already!”
“It’s so hot when you think you can boss me around.
Means I get to punish you for it later.” Aaron pulls out of the parking lot and onto the main road.
“I love watching you cry by my hands, kitten.” He’s staring at the road, but I still feel his gaze like a heavy hand caressing my body. I’m flushed—shivering.
“God—I’m already too worked up.” He shoots me a smile, a wink.
“Good. It’ll be more fun when you’re begging right from the start.”
“Aaron!”
I lay the seat back—resting an arm over my eyes to block him out.
He’s always doing this—always getting me going—teasing me.
If I went back to visit sixteen-year-old Benjamin and told him how things in my life are now, he’d laugh in my face.
Hell—if I told nineteen-year-old Benjamin, he’d punch me in the face.
But now at twenty-two, I’m watching Aaron drive us back to our house—engaged—back to a routine we built just for us.
Isn’t it funny how time works?