Let Love In Page 14

  My chest is pounding. My ears are rushing with blood. My face is soaked in sweat. Instinctively, I run my thumb across the scar on my chin. It’s nothing more than a thin, white raised vein of flesh. It’s superficial, but the real scars lurk far beneath the surface. Buried. Cold and dead, just like Shane.

  I look to my side and see sweet Maddy still sleeping peacefully, curled in a ball. I spoon up behind her, and she wiggles her ass into my groin. I wrap my arms around her tightly, but not so tight as to wake her. Inhaling the coconut scent of her shampoo, a smell that I’ve come to associate with all things peaceful and beautiful, I try to calm my racing heart and paralytic anxiety. I count back from one hundred again. When I get to zero, sleep still eludes me, so I start again. On the third countdown, a fitful sleep overtakes me.

  I finally make it to the top of the stairs, and I hear the water running in the bathroom. Fear freezes me. My feet remained glued to the floor beneath me. I can’t move. I can’t speak. The world tilts off its axis. I call for him. “Shane. You home?” He doesn’t answer. He can’t answer. I call for him more loudly, as if that will rouse him from his eternal slumber. Still no answer. I knock timidly on the bathroom door, where I still hear the water flowing from the tub faucet. “Shane? Dude? You in there?” No answer. There will never be an answer. I try to open the door, but it’s locked. I bang harder. I pound my fists into the white wooden door until the frame starts to splinter and my knuckles start to bleed. I change tactics as the panic crushes me. I drop my shoulder and ram it into the door. Still nothing. It just will not budge. I ram again and again. The pain is blinding. I’m pretty sure I’ve dislocated my shoulder, but I can’t stop. I won’t stop until I get to the other side.

  The door cracks; I hit it once more, knowing that it will crumble if I put all my strength behind the next blow. My shoulder crashes into the door one last time and I fall through it, landing on the frigid, blood-covered tile floor. Shakes rack my body, and the scream that escapes my mouth is feral; it’s the sound of a beast. I crawl clumsily; the blood-tinted water causes me to fall on my stomach. There’s blood everywhere. I try to convince myself that it’s my blood — from my chin, from my knuckles, from the splinter of wood that’s stuck in my shoulder. I know it’s not, though. It’s his. It’s Shane’s.

  I make it to the edge of the bathtub, where his arm dangles lifelessly. Blood is no longer dripping from the severed vein at his wrist. I grab him by the shoulders and try to shake him, try to pull him out of the water, try to save him. His head just lolls to the side. His eyes are fixed in a dead stare. He’s so cold, gone already. I’m too late.

  I crumple to the floor and vomit. I can’t save him. I was too late. It’s my fault. If I would have gotten here sooner, he’d still be here. Sobs overpower my body, and I thrash out in anger.

  “Reid! Oh, my God! Reid, baby, wake up. You’re having a bad dream. Please, baby, wake up. You’re scaring me. Please!” Her panicked voice pulls me from the bowels of hell. Maddy frantically runs her hands over my face, my chest. She pulls me close into her so my cheek rests against her heart. It takes forever for me to calm down, to regain a sense of here and now, but her fingers stroking gently in my hair, her palm rubbing circles on my back, and her sweet voice telling me that “everything will be all right” eventually work.

  I crane my neck up to look at her, and that small movement cause my insides to churn. I feel it coming on, so I sprint out of bed, race to the toilet. She’s next to me in an instant — calming, soothing. There’s nothing left in my stomach, and I’m just heaving above the bowl. Maddy gets up and busies herself by the sink. She’s back by my side in an instant, wiping a cool, damp rag across my forehead and cheeks. I can’t look at her. I’ll break; I know it.

  When the heaves subside, she wipes my mouth with the washcloth and hands me a glass of water. “Here, baby. Have a sip. What else can I get you?”

  She looks so fragile, so innocent, so concerned. I still haven’t said a word, and I’m not sure that I can. I know if I tell her this shit, that she’ll leave. I can’t lose her and deal with this shit on my own. The floodgates open at the thought of losing her.

  She goes into the bedroom and slips on a T-shirt, and hands me a pair of shorts. I slide them on as I remain seated on the floor. I already feel so vulnerable, so I’m grateful that we’re at least covered by our clothing.

  After everything we shared last night, I can’t lose her. I’m crying uncontrollably now, and I can’t imagine what I must look like — the word “pussy” comes to mind, but with Maddy, I just don’t care.

  “Reid, baby, please talk to me. You haven’t said anything, and I’m really worried about you. Please, whatever it is, you can talk to me. I’m here for you. We’re in this together. You’re my rock and my strength all of the time. Let me be yours now. Please, sweetie, let me take the pain away.”

  That just makes me sob harder. She pulls me into her arms, her warm softness surrounding me, enveloping me. I feel safe. It’s a sharp realization, and with it the massive wall that used to guard my heart comes crashing down.

  I feel safe. In her arms, I am safe and protected. She’s already shared so much of herself with me. She’s so damn strong, and I am in awe of her. Maybe I can do this. Maybe she won’t leave. I take a deep breath and mentally try to prepare myself for sharing my darkest secret.

  “I…Maddy…I’ve never…” I don’t know where to start. It’s something I’ve never told anyone. A “fuck” grumbles out of my chest before I regain my composure and start over.

  We’re still sitting on the bathroom floor, the cold tile chilling my legs. I can’t tell her this in here, so I stand above her and pull her into my arms. I hug her tightly and try to pull whatever strength I can from her.

  I walk her over to the bed and sink down onto it with her. My phone buzzes on my nightstand, and I just ignore it. The only person in the world I want to talk to is here in my arms.

  She cups my face and looks deeply, affectionately, into my eyes. “Reid. I’m here for you, but if you can’t talk, or don’t want to, I understand that, too. Just please let me know that you’re okay.”

  I can finally manage a few words. “You’re here. I’m okay. It’s that simple.” She lets out a breath that I’m not sure she even knew she was holding. “If it’s okay with you, there are some things I would like to tell you about. I want to ask you not to leave me when I tell them to you, but I know that’s not possible. I just can’t keep them buried anymore.”

  “I love you. I’m not leaving. It’s just that simple, too.”

  She nuzzles into my chest and wraps her arms around my waist, and for that moment all is right with the world. I kiss the top of her head and realize I need to brush my teeth. What I have to tell her is vile enough; I can’t do it with the wretched taste of vomit in my mouth.

  When I come back to the bed, she is staring at me, wide-eyed and eager to hear what I have to tell her. It’s not an eagerness born out of wanting the details, though, like that of a gossiping teenage girl; it’s an eagerness rising out of concern for what I’m dealing with. She knows what it’s like to feel pain and to not have anyone to unload it on. Those thoughts fortify whatever resolve I had.

  We sit cross-legged on the bed facing one another, hands interlocked in a show of solidarity against the ghosts of my past.

  “There’s really no easy way to say any of this, so just let me get it all out. Okay? I’m not sure I’ll be able to get through it all if I have to stop.”

  She nods. Knowing that she won’t interrupt gives me the final push to get started.

  “Shane was my older brother.” I see a look of shock widen her eyes at my confession. “I know I said I had no family, and that’s the truth.” She just looks at me knowingly — a shared pain at losing a family member kind of look.

  I close my eyes, and for the first time in a long time, I allow myself to think about my brother and my best friend.

  “He was everything I ever wanted to be. The sun
practically rose and set over his head in my eyes. He was two years older than me, so we were more than brothers — he was my best friend. We did everything together. We shared a room and would stay up all night together. When we were young, it would drive my parents crazy. I’m sure there were times they thought we were going to crash through the ceiling. As we got older, we’d horse around less — never stopped entirely — but the goofing-off changed into late-night talks. I know it sounds girly and shit, but we really were best friends. I always thought it was so fucking cool that when all of my friends had to go home at night, they had to leave all their friends behind, but not me — Shane was always by my side.

  “When I got to high school, he would take me to the weight room with him after school. He was the one who turned me into a gym rat. We would spend hours each day working out together, and after a while, his friends became my friends. Things changed a little within the group when he graduated, but only in the sense that Shane wasn’t at school during the day. We would all still hang out together on the weekend, and since Shane stayed home to go to a local community college, we still shared a room together.

  “One night, I woke to the sound of him trying to stifle a cry. He was keeping it in, but this high-pitched whining sound still escaped his mouth, and I could tell something was wrong. He was shaking uncontrollably, and I was scared shitless. He was like a superhero to me. But there he was, broken and crumpled over, obviously dealing with something serious. I told him I should get Mom and Dad, but he said no. There was no way they could know. I tried to calm him down, and eventually he did. I told him that if he couldn’t tell Mom and Dad, then he needed to tell someone. Whatever his secret was, it was enough to cause him this pain and anguish, so he had to tell someone. He said he would tell me, but only if I promised on my life that I would never tell anyone. That he would die if anyone ever found out.

  “So of course I promised I wouldn’t ever tell another living soul, and when I said it, when I vowed to him that my lips were permanently sealed, I honestly meant it.” The sobs creep back up in my throat at the knowledge that I broke my promise. That it is my fault he’s dead.

  Maddy just shushes me and pulls me close to her chest as I cry. She doesn’t say anything, and I love her for it. She just lets me hurt; she lets my pain bleed out. Holding back my tears, I continue my story.

  “He told me he was gay, and honestly, I wasn’t shocked. I mean, I never would have asked him, but there was always a part of me that suspected as much. It didn’t change how I felt about him. He was my brother. I loved him no matter what, but I totally understood his fear of other people finding out. My parents are ultra-conservative, and our small town is narrow-minded. He would be shunned immediately by his friends and more than likely disowned by our parents. I was only sixteen at the time, so I couldn’t fully wrap my head around the enormity of his confession, but I knew it was a big deal. In our town, in our family, it was huge. So I never told anyone.

  “Until I met her. You see, Shane started dating this girl named Alex. He met her in his freshman English seminar. She was all flirty and darkly beautiful. He figured it was a good cover, but I think there was a part of him that was hoping he wasn’t gay. As sad as it is, it would have been easier for him if he wasn’t. I can’t imagine the thoughts that went through his mind — how he must have felt with the knowledge that he would never be accepted for the person he was.

  “They dated for a while -- I would say about three or four months before she approached me. She was leaning up against her car outside the batting cages where I worked. I knew who she was immediately. I had met her a handful of times. Shane was mindful to bring her home to meet Mom and Dad and to be seen out in town with her. I mostly laughed at his antics, and I just wished there was a place where he felt safe enough to just be himself. The real Shane was fucking awesome, but I knew that as long as our mom and dad were still his parents, that as long as our town was still his home, that the real Shane would be someone only I knew.

  “So anyway, she wanted to know if I wanted to hang out, which struck me as odd. She told me she was waiting for Shane to get done with something — homework or something like that — and she just wanted to kill some time. I didn’t trust her entirely, but she was Shane’s girlfriend, and she was pretty hot. She had a bottle of Jack in the front seat, and she asked if I wanted a drink. I didn’t want to be a pussy. I mean, I’d been drunk before, but something was screaming at me to keep my defenses sharp with her. We drove out to some hilly overlook and sat on the hood of her car, sipping the Jack. The conversation was innocent enough to start. You know, shit like how’s school? Was I excited for baseball season in the spring? Before I could realize it, I was fucking wrecked. Jack sneaks up on you quick, especially when you’re not used to hard liquor.

  “Once she saw that I was drunk, she made her move on me. She started kissing me and pressing her body up against mine. I was a scumbag for hooking up with my brother’s girlfriend, but I couldn’t help but react. I was a fucking horny sixteen-year-old with a college girl’s tongue down my throat. She had my pants down and my dick in her mouth before I could even realize what was happening. In the next heartbeat, she was straddled on top of me, fucking me like there was no tomorrow.”

  I stop and register the look of unadulterated shock on Maddy’s face. She doesn’t deserve this. She doesn’t deserve me. I know I’m being such a shit for unloading this on her after last night. I know what it meant for her to let me in like that. It fucking meant the world to me, too. And here I am telling her about fucking Alex, but she has to know. So I brace myself and steel my resolve, and just hope that she’ll still love me when all is said and done.

  “It was my first time, so it didn’t last long. As she climbed off me, she said that ‘it was about fucking time that someone fucked her good.’ She must have seen the look of confusion on my face. I asked if her and Shane had had sex. It came out more shocked than I meant for it to, but I was drunk. My shock and confusion must have been enough for her to push forward on her original intentions. I could see the cruelty in her eyes. I saw the evil boiling beneath the surface, but alcohol and lust clouded my vision so much that when she said she knew he was gay, my acknowledgment of the truth must have been clearly written on my face. I didn’t come right out and tell her, and I never meant to, but it was because of me that she found out. It was because of me that they all found out.”

  My head has been down pretty much the entire time I’ve been talking. I’ve been avoiding eye contact with Maddy, knowing that I’ll see judgment and anger in her beautiful moss-colored eyes.

  When I finally do meet her gaze, there is shock there. I guess she wouldn’t be human if she wasn’t somewhat shocked. That’s a lot to take in; hell, it’s a lot to let out. I have to try to convince her that I’m not that person anymore. “Maddy, you have to believe that I never would have told her any of that. Please believe me. It’s why I never drink. It’s why I’ve never let anyone in, except you.”

  She still doesn’t say anything.

  “Maddy, please. Tell me that we’re okay. That you’re okay.” I reach out to cup her cheek, and I gasp when she leans into it tenderly.

  She doesn’t hate me.

  “Can I say something now, Reid? I don’t want to interrupt you if you’ve got more to get out.” Her concern for me just makes me love her even more.

  “No, go ahead, please say something,” I plead with her. I do have more to share, but I need to catch my breath and wrap my head around it all. I also need to hear her say that she doesn’t hate me for who I used to be, for what I did.

  “I’m trying to find the right words. I know you don’t want to hear ‘it’s okay’ or ‘it wasn’t your fault,’ because I know it’s not okay. You threw up at the nightmare about all of this — that’s definitely not okay. And I could swear up and down that it’s not your fault, and it’s not, but I know that is not going to change how you feel about it.”

  I nod my head ‘yes’ at her line of
reasoning. I know deep down that if I hadn’t slept with Alex, and exposed Shane’s secret, then he would still be here.

  “I never blamed myself for my parents dying. I mean, there really was nothing anyone could’ve done.”

  I huff a sarcastic laugh at her. If she’s trying to make me feel better about my guilt, then she’s failing miserably.

  She backtracks and says, “What I mean is that even though I never felt responsible for them dying, I still felt the pain of their death. I know that all-encompassing grief you’ve felt, that you’re feeling right now — the kind of grief that keeps you up at night, threatening to eat you whole. So you do your best to protect yourself, to keep the world at bay, and everyone at arm’s length. You learn to protect whatever is left of your heart because you can’t even begin to fathom what it would feel like to have the small piece that remains broken along with the rest. I don’t know how to begin telling you to forgive yourself, but I do know that you are a good man I love more than anything. I’m here for you. I want to help you figure out your past and figure out how to move on, just like you’ve helped me figure mine out, just like how you’re helping me move forward.”

  She pauses, and I see her trying to piece together the rather lengthy story I’ve laid before her.

  “Will you tell me the rest?” she asks timidly.

  I’ve never been forthcoming about my family, and I know she can tell that there’s something I’m keeping from her. Feeling emboldened by her inner strength, I tell the rest.

  “Well, after Alex found out what she wanted, she drove me home and promised not to tell a soul. Fucking bullshit. I could see it in her face. She was embarrassed that she had been duped, that her boyfriend had tried to fool her. She was most definitely a woman scorned, and she was on a mission to destroy Shane for making her look bad. It was five years ago, and I was still in high school, so I didn’t know much about Facebook and MySpace and all those social networking sites. Alex did, though, and she used them to make Shane’s life a living hell. She made a video of snapshots that she had taken of the two of them throughout their relationship and used it to out his sexuality. It was mean and cruel and just downright vindictive.