Chapter 14 Paper Cuts #3
I had endured pain far worse than this before and on multiple occasions, but I’d bear it all again if it meant my wife’s hands would never leave my body.
But even while I didn’t flinch or react to her ministrations, Jaden’s eyes still caught mine, looking for any signs that I was in pain. She wouldn’t find any.
“You’re not going to hurt me,” I assured her. “Just keep everything still.”
“You can’t tell me that doesn’t hurt like hell,” she quipped.
Ignoring her nonsense, I carefully inserted the needle through my skin and began working on the first stitch.
“When I was younger, maybe around thirteen years old, once a year, my father would have me and my brothers tortured for three days straight.”
I could feel her eyes widen with alarm as she watched me pull the thread through.
“We never knew when it was coming. Most of the time, we’d wake up from a blackout and find ourselves strapped to a chair or hanging from the ceiling. Sometimes chained to the wall. We were never in the same room, but we could easily hear each other through the walls.”
I listened to her heavy swallow as I tied the first knot and started the next stitch.
“Do I even want to know what was done to you?” she asked, her voice low with apprehension.
I smirked, the memories of those days coming back with a vengeance.
“Probably anything you can imagine. Beatings, drownings, whippings, stabbings, a gunshot wound or two, and definitely broken bones. The psychological torture was even worse. We were starved, blinded, electrocuted, sleep-deprived, and severely dehydrated. Some days, we weren’t even sure if we would survive. ”
She shuddered; her obvious discomfort at my upbringing was an amusing reaction to witness.
“Waterboarding was probably the most desired affliction if there was one. It was the only opportunity you’d have to drink any water, even if you were choking on it.”
“Jesus.” Jaden frowned, her eyes moving back to my wound, watching me tie off another knot. “Why?” she finally asked, her eyes searching my face while I remained focused on carefully pulling the needle back through my skin.
“To build stamina,” I told her. “To remove the concept of fear if we were ever taken as prisoners. And also, to teach us the most effective methods of torture. What better way to know than firsthand experience?”
Because of my father, I knew exactly how it felt to have every single one of your fingernails removed. What it was like to have flesh cut from your body. How agonizing it was to have something severed and then reattached.
Glancing back at her, I could see her brow furrowing as her eyes began to gloss over. Was that concern?
“You sound like you’re grateful for the experience,” she mumbled.
I shook my head as I pulled the needle through and tied off another stitch.
“I never enjoyed them, obviously. But I knew what my father was trying to do, and I understood his reasoning. He wanted us to be able to withstand anything. To become unbreakable. And it worked. Eventually, I started to look forward to each year's latest challenge.”
Her brow arched, her fingers beginning to lose the pressure I needed to keep the edges of the shredded skin lined up properly.
“Keep your hands in place, Jaden. I’m almost done.”
Correcting herself, she turned her head back to my side, but I could tell her eyes were glazing over as she imagined what I had endured every year until I turned twenty.
“Darren,” she said softly.
“Hmm?” I hummed as I tied off the last stitch.
“You understand that your father was incredibly deranged, right? You know that’s not normal parenting? That what he did was psychotic?”
I grinned as I turned to place the suture tools back in the kit and pulled out the gauze and medical tape.
“You might consider it deranged in your world. But in ours, it’s considered necessary,” I stated as I cut the gauze into the right shape and size.
“Your job as a parent is to ensure the survival of your children. And in our world, surviving means a lot more than just knowing how to file your taxes.” Her mouth formed a tight line as she considered my words.
“You were taught how to avoid homelessness. I was taught how to avoid death,” I continued, holding the gauze over my wound.
“And then I was taught how to become it.”
I handed Jaden the medical tape, and she took it robotically, her eyes still glazed over as she began to rip off a good length.
“But it wasn’t all just about pain and torture, Jaden. Afterward, we learned how to treat our injuries once we could maintain consciousness.”
She visibly grimaced. “Please stop talking,” she snapped as she finished taping the gauze to my side.
“We’d learn how to remove bullets from our bodies, splint broken bones, and sew each other back together. It was actually quite the brotherly bonding experien—”
“Stop. Talking.”
Jaden leveled me with a glare that told me she wasn’t enjoying my childhood story.
I chuckled at her clear distress as she handed me back the tape.
Taking it out of her hands and dropping it on the bed, I snatched her wrists together and yanked her to me.
A quiet gasp escaped her lips as her body stiffened, but she didn’t fight my hold.
“Look at me,” I ordered, my tone dark with purpose.
She bit the inside of her cheek but lifted her chin to meet my eyes.
Hazel pools of sadness, anger, and fear stared back at me, the glassy exterior reminding me of a look my mother used to wear all too often.
“The point I’m trying to make, my little queen, is that there is nothing my enemies could do to me that I haven’t already survived.
So when I tell you that this little scratch on my side is nothing more than a paper cut to me, you’ll appreciate why. ”
She said nothing as I released her and turned my attention back to packing up the rest of the suture kit.
Jaden immediately moved away to lie on her side against the pillows, her knees curling into her chest and her eyes cast low.
Shutting the lid, I set the kit on the nightstand, turned off the light, and climbed into bed.
Once I was situated, I reached over and pulled Jaden to me, locking my arm around her small frame and pressing her against my uninjured side and chest.
Her body was stiffer than ice while her fist clenched tightly against my abdomen.
“You’re upset,” I stated.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She was silent for a moment, and I gave her the time she needed to voice her thoughts.
“Did your grandfather do the same to your father?” she asked. “When he was growing up?”
Ah, the dreaded legacy question.
“Yes,” I answered.
She shivered against me, and my initial instinct was to pull her even closer.
“And do you want to continue that practice?” Her voice almost shook, like she was afraid to know the answer. But Jaden already knew. She knew from the moment I first told her.
“Yes.”