Behind His Walls Page 16

  She held my face. “For what?”

  “If I hurt you.”

  One hand went behind her back and the other hand went behind her neck. I pulled her close to me and could feel her breath on my lips. I hovered just a moment, feeling the warmth caress me.

  Once our lips touched, my aggressive side took over, and I pressed her against the counter. My tongue sought contact with hers, and I moaned when she parted her lips. I took no mercy on her mouth that I was claiming as my own. She would never kiss another man after I was finished. I would see to it.

  I captured her tongue between my teeth when she tried to slide it between my lips, and I sucked. She tasted of strawberry yogurt and heaven. I wrapped my arms around her and leaned further into the kiss.

  Her hands went to my chest and gripped my shirt. I put my forehead to hers and tried to catch my breath. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Just do it again.”

  And I did. I pushed my thigh between her legs and she gripped my shirt harder as we kissed. I was out of practice by about twenty years, but kissing Lindsey felt like I’d been kissing my entire life. I didn’t want to stop kissing her.

  I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight. I heard her sniffle and pulled back. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” She wiped a tear that had fallen and looked into my eyes. “I’m far from hurt, Joseph.” She wrapped her arms around me. “You need to finish your lunch.” She took my hand and pulled me back to the table. She scooted her chair closer to me when we sat and placed her hand on my thigh.

  I felt different, but I wasn’t sure how yet. I was happy to have kissed Lindsey and felt the same passion back that I was pouring into her, but I felt apprehensive as to what was going to change with us. Kissing like that always brought a change. I could only hope it was a good one.

  Exhaustion had set in so much so that I almost asked Lindsey to drive home. She discussed her day as she sat next to me, oblivious to just how tired I was. It was a long, hard day, and I just wanted to go to bed.

  I pulled into the driveway, thankful to be home. It was all I could do to get my tired legs to carry me through the door. I turned and placed my forehead against the door as I locked it. Keeping my head up was proving to be more difficult with each passing minute.

  Lindsey rubbed her hand over my back and leaned in to press her cheek against me as her hands slid to my front. She tightened her arms around me. “Go get some sleep. I’ll make dinner, and wake you when it’s done.”

  I grabbed her hand, kissed her fingers, and pulled her upstairs with me. Whether she was tired or not, I wouldn’t be able to sleep without her. I kicked my shoes off, took off my jacket, and loosened my tie before falling into bed and taking her with me. If she protested, I didn’t hear it. I fell asleep the moment my arms wrapped around her.

  The previous night was a late one while I waited up for Joseph to come back from his emergency call. A nap sounded good, so I didn’t argue, but I was hungry and wanted to make dinner. I wasn’t sure I could sleep after that kiss he gave me at lunch. I smiled and touched my lips.

  I wanted to kiss him again, and if he hadn’t been so tired when we got home, I would’ve. We would’ve still ended up in bed, but sleeping wouldn’t have been on the agenda.

  His fist clenched, and he jerked behind me. It seemed as if he was in the beginning stages of a nightmare. I tried to turn in his arms, but he held me tighter. He mumbled something I couldn’t hear.

  Turning my head as far as I could, I saw the distress he was in. His eyes were closed as tight as they could be. His eyebrows were furrowed. The lips I had enjoyed just hours before were in a hard, thin line.

  In a split second, his face turned to shock instead of anger. His eyebrows shot up, but his eyes stayed closed. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. A single tear escaped his eye and ran down to his pillow.

  I fought to turn in his arms, and the moment I touched his face, he jumped out of bed, eyes still closed, and crouched, holding his hands up as if to block me from getting past him. Then he fell to his knees, holding his face in his hands.

  My heart broke as I heard the sobs come from him. I lowered myself to the floor and reached out to touch him. I wasn’t sure if he was awake or not, but I wanted to comfort him. I wanted him to know he wasn’t as alone as he felt he was.

  It was as if it just happened again. Those dreams were always so vivid, and I felt as if I’d lived through it a thousand times. It was no surprise that I’d have the dream so soon after visiting my mother. It was one of the reasons I stayed away from her grave. I hated living through the worst moment in my entire life night after night. Visiting her ensured I would have that dream for many nights to come.

  My father and I weren’t quiet when we walked through the door. Laughing and drunk was the state we had gotten used to coming home in. He usually drank more than I did, but I needed the liquid courage that night. That was the night he crowned me prince.

  My mother wasn’t too happy when we got home. She was standing with her arms crossed looking quite crossed herself. She glared at my father, which she didn’t usually do. The fierce look of hatred sobered me a little. It didn’t faze my father.

  “I don’t know what you’re so bent out of shape for. All the girls are going to love it when he can get back into action again.” He tried to wrap his arms around her. “We all know how much you love my piercing. Let our boy make someone just as happy.”

  She shoved him, and I stepped forward, waiting for my father’s reaction. He laughed and shook his head as he walked toward the kitchen. “You’ll get over it.”

  “I will not get over it.” She followed him. I tried to hold her back, but she shoved me, too. “I will not have you changing our boy. He’s going to be a good man.”

  My father opened the refrigerator and tilted his head. He bent forward, moving things around, and stood up when he didn’t find what he was looking for. He turned and looked into the trash. The rest of the beer we had had been emptied, and the bottles were discarded. He slammed the refrigerator door.

  “What did you do?”

  “You drink too much these days, and you’re not taking my son down with you. You will not turn him into you!”

  “Me? There’s not a damn thing wrong with me. He should be so lucky to turn into me. It’s better than the pansy he was being when he acted like a little bitch like you. I’m teaching him how to be a man!”

  I tried to stand between them. At eighteen, it was easier to take on my father and protect my mother, but it didn’t always work. “I can have the best parts of both of you. Let’s just sleep this night off. Things will be better in the morning when we’re not so tired.”

  “See, he’s still got a little pansy in him.” My father grabbed his keys. “I have to go buy more beer, but this is coming out of your allowance.” He pointed in my mother’s face as he walked by.

  “Dad, you’re in no condition to drive. Just go to bed. We’ll get more beer tomorrow, and I’ll pay for it.”

  “Let him go. Maybe he’ll crash the car and die.”

  My mother tried to walk away, but my father grabbed her by her hair, and she screamed. The evil that terrified us both was back in his eyes, and I knew I had to get him away from her.

  “Dad, let go.” I tried to get his grip to loosen enough to at least ease up on the pain, but he wasn’t letting go no matter what. I tried to pull on him as he walked her to their bedroom, but he shoved me so hard I fell backward. “Dad!” I pounded on the door when he shut and locked it.

  I rammed the door with my shoulder, but it wouldn’t budge. I’d gotten through once a few years ago, and he secured the door more. “Dad, you don’t want to do this. She’s just jealous that we’re getting closer now.”

  I tried everything I could to get him to let me inside. I could only imagine what was happening by the sounds of my mother’s screams. She didn’t remain quiet as she usually did. She fought back and yelled insults at him each time he yelled
them at her.

  I took a deep breath and looked to the ceiling when there was pounding at the front door. The neighbors probably called the cops again. I went to answer it. There wasn’t any way they wouldn’t be able to hear the argument, but I had to try to get them to leave. People should be allowed to argue.

  I opened the door to three police officers. “We don’t need any help. Everything will be fine. I’m sorry you wasted your time.”

  They could hear my mother yelling. “He’s a good boy, and I will not let you turn him into a monster like you.”

  “You don’t think I’m a monster when I bring the paychecks home. You don’t call me a monster when I’m fucking you every night. The boy’s right.” He laughed. “You’re just being a jealous bitch, but I’ll fix that!”

  I never played football, but I crouched and held my hands up as if I’d played all my life and tried to block the cops from entering our home when we heard the sound of my father hitting my mother and the grunt she made when he struck her.

  The struggle we heard afterward made their attempt to get past me more urgent. I froze in shock when I heard the first gunshot and fell to my knees when I heard the second. I knew my father had made good on his threat and killed my mother. It was all my fault.

  Lindsey’s arms were wrapped around me as she rocked me on the floor. I reached my shaky hand up to touch her arm, but I couldn’t stop the tears. I hadn’t cried for my mother since her funeral. I didn’t allow myself to feel. Falling in love with Lindsey was making me feel too much about everything.

  I didn’t like it.

  I stood, brushed Lindsey off me, and jumped into the shower. It wasn’t right to keep her out, but she was getting too close, and I needed some distance.

  When I came out of the bathroom, she was gone. Her suitcase was still against the wall, so she hadn’t left for good. She must’ve wanted to give me the space I demanded. I sighed and shook my head at myself. I owed her an apology.

  I got dressed and went searching for her. I looked in the guest room to see if she’d lain down, but she wasn’t in there. I walked down to the living room. I could see the back of her as she sat on the sofa, eating pizza. I smiled. It was a relief to see she hadn’t left, even though she deserved to. No one should have to put up with my rudeness.

  She’d just taken a big bite as I sat next to her. She looked at me, wiped her mouth with a napkin, and slid the pizza box over to me, next to the water I assumed she got for me. It was nice to know she’d expected me to join her. “I got hungry.”

  I nodded and took a slice for myself. I wasn’t hungry, but it gave us something to do while I hoped the awkwardness would go away. I owed her an explanation, but I wasn’t sure I could get through it. Even the people who knew what happened couldn’t get me to talk about it.

  I was conflicted for so many reasons, but mostly since the first time in my life, I wanted to share my story with someone. Maybe it was because Lindsey was a psychologist and could see the clinical side most people couldn’t. Maybe it was because I knew she had the ability to understand the situation without feeling sorry for me.

  Those were all stories I told myself to try to get comfortable to talk to her. The fact remained that she was human. She was a woman with feelings, and if she was to be believed, she had feelings for me. No amount of training would help her keep a cold distance from me after the truth came out. Was I strong enough to handle that? We were about to find out.

  I cleared my throat and grabbed my water. “There are things I need to explain.” I took a drink.

  Lindsey turned on the sofa to face me. “Joseph, I want to hear whatever it is you want to tell me, but only if you’re prepared to do so. We both know what happens when people share too quickly. Only share what you’re comfortable sharing and at your own pace. I’ll wait for you.”

  I reached over and held her hand. “This is why I feel I can open up to you. I may not be able to get through everything tonight, but I want to try to let you in.”

  She squeezed my hand. “I’m all yours.”

  “I have a confession about last night. I didn’t stay all night at the hospital. I got my client settled, and then I left.”

  “Okay. I understand needing time to digest what happened.”

  “I went to my mother’s grave.” I glanced her way for a reaction, but she didn’t have one. I wondered if it was her training or if my confession hadn’t bothered her.

  “Did you find comfort there?”

  “I didn’t go because of my client. I went because I kissed you, and it scared the shit out of me.”

  She smiled. “I wondered if you realized you had done that.”

  “I did, but not until after I left the hospital. My lips felt funny all evening, but I thought they were dry or that it was my nerves at the situation.” I looked at her. “I realized when I thought about coming home to you that it was because I kissed you.”

  “What does your mother have to do with that?”

  I looked forward. “My father wasn’t a kind man. He was controlling, demanding, and unforgiving. He’s who taught me that you never kiss a woman. They can feel what you’re feeling and use it against you.

  “He thought women were conniving and always conspiring against men. I’m not sure what had happened to him for him to come to that conclusion. We were only starting to get close when he died.”

  I stood and paced the living room. “He was abusive. My mother took the brunt of it. I’m not sure if it was because I was male or if it was because he didn’t want to get outsiders involved. He could control what my mother said about things, but no one could control what a kid says.”

  “How was he abusive?”

  “Mostly, it was verbal abuse. On the bad days, it would turn physical. My mother tried to shield me from it as much as possible, but I could hear what happened when they went to their bedroom.”

  I sat in the chair and leaned forward, holding my head in my hands. I could still hear my mother’s screams as if they were happening in the next room.

  “I pretended I didn’t hear anything. I didn’t want my mother to be further embarrassed. She’d already lost so much dignity during her attacks.”

  “Were they sexual?”

  “Usually.” I sat up. “It wasn’t until I was older that I understood that’s what he was doing.”

  “Did you ever talk to your mother about it?”

  “I begged her to leave him. I got a job as soon as someone would pay me in more than just cookies. I saved every penny, but she loved my father.” I scoffed and shook my head as I leaned back against the chair. “How could she love a man like that?”

  “We both know that’s an impossible question to answer.”

  “You’re right.” I nodded.

  “You said you were getting close to your father. What happened to turn you around?”

  “My mother didn’t want my help. I was killing myself in school to get good grades to make her proud. I was killing myself after school to work and earn enough money for us to leave him. She’d never leave him.

  “Once I realized that, I kept up the school work the best I could to get myself out of that house with college, but I slipped more into the rebellious teen everyone expected me to be. I started dating, drinking, and doing everything I knew I shouldn’t do.

  “I still couldn’t completely let go. There was one call the principal had to make about my skipping class. Instead of twiddling my thumbs in study hall, I was twiddling something else with a girl in the bathroom.” I shook my head. “I never wanted to see the disappointment in my mother’s eyes again.”

  “She just wanted what was best for you.”

  “I know, but she wouldn’t leave him. Wouldn’t that have been the best for me? I was so confused that maybe I was the one who was wrong. None of my friends who’d met him ever said anything bad about him, but isn’t that how it always goes? They’re normal until the door is closed and the shades are drawn.”

  “He had to say something
or do something to make you trust him to become friends with him.”

  “It was the kissing.” I looked at her. “I didn’t believe him at first. When the next two girls in high school ripped my heart out, I stopped kissing, and my entire world changed.”

  I stood and paced the living room again. “Everyone wanted a piece of me then. It became a challenge to them. Once I had my fill of one girl, I’d dump her and move on to the next without ever kissing either of them again.

  “In fact, the girls who broke my heart came back to see if they could get me to do it since they’d kissed me before.” I shrugged. “I’m not proud of it, but I took them to bed and had my way with them while they offered it up, but still didn’t kiss them.”

  “What other advice did he give you?”

  “I started working out with him and gained muscle. I was a scrawny thing in my early years. He’s also the one who got me pierced.”

  She glanced down to my crotch and back up to me. “Was he pierced?”

  I nodded. “He died before I could tell him that most of the girls in high school were too afraid of it, but when college rolled around.” I shook my head. “It’s a wonder I passed any of my classes.”

  “You were promiscuous. I get it.”

  I looked at Lindsey. “I’m sorry. I should tell you that I’ve never had an STD, and I’m not that guy anymore.” I sat in the chair again. “My father drilled the need for condoms in my head at an early age. He said if he had listened to his own advice, I wouldn’t be here.”

  “Well, it sounds like that was the only thing he got right in his life. I’m very happy you’re here.”

  I grinned and looked at the floor. “My mother would say that, too.”

  “Did you find your answers when you went to her grave?”

  “It wasn’t about finding answers. I needed to be with the one woman who loved me unconditionally.”

  She nodded. “I can understand that.” She stood and walked over to me and held out her hand. “Come on.” She took my hand, pulled me up, and wrapped her arms around me. “Thank you for sharing what you did tonight. It’s getting late, and you didn’t sleep much last night. Let’s sleep now, and we’ll talk more when you’re rested.”