My moves were robotic as I dried myself off and went to my bedroom to search out a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt. My body felt too heavy for my limbs, so I ended up moving to my bed so I could sit down. I glanced at my nightstand but made no effort to reach for the knob on the drawer. Although I often reached for Mac’s picture when I needed someone to talk to, for the first time in pretty much ever, the last thing I wanted was to see his face.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured. Saying it once wasn’t enough. Twice wasn’t, either. I ended up losing count of how many times I repeated the words. It didn’t really matter though because I knew there was no magic number that could undo what I’d done. Such a thing might have been possible if Matias had somehow forced or coerced me, but there’d been no mistaking the way things had played out.
I’d been the one who’d refused to let go. I’d been the one who’d turned my head and kissed him. I’d whispered those endless pleas for him to give me what I’d wanted.
Which he had.
A tremor racked my body as I thought about how hard I’d come. I wanted to believe it had just been because I’d been abstinent for so long, but I’d still had the pleasure of my own hand for company in the years since Mac had died. But not once had my own fingers done what Matias’s had.
Mac’s hadn’t either.
I could feel the tears threatening to fall again, so I forced myself to stand on shaky legs. I went to the bathroom to retrieve my phone from the back pocket of my jeans, but in the process of gathering the denim up off the floor, my eyes fell on the spots all around the crotch that were a darker shade of blue.
It was physical proof of the very thing I was trying to forget.
I snatched my phone out of the pocket and crumpled the jeans up into a little ball. I didn’t care how ridiculous or childish I was being when I jammed the jeans into the small wastebasket beneath my sink. I sent my neighbor a quick text to let her know I was on my way back over to her house, then grabbed the bag out of the garbage can and hurried to the front door. Since garbage day had happened the morning after the attack, the garbage can was still sitting on the curb. It would have been easier just to leave the semen-stained jeans in the larger can in the kitchen, but I needed them out of my house.
I needed them to no longer exist.
I needed…
I let out a muffled curse when my brain tried to force me to finish the sentence with a certain someone’s name at the end of it.
“Not happening,” I muttered. I paused only long enough to make sure the front door was locked behind me before practically running down the walkway to where the garbage can was sitting along the curb. As I deposited the discarded jeans in the can, I expected some kind of relief to wash over me.
It didn’t.
All I could feel was an itchiness beneath my skin and a couple of pounds’ worth of guilt sitting heavily in my belly.
I slammed the garbage can lid shut and turned to head toward my neighbor’s house.
And stopped just as quickly.
Just like before, Matias appeared out of nowhere. Only this time, he was standing a good twenty feet away. I couldn’t see his face, but it didn’t matter. There was no mistaking the way he watched me.
I stood frozen in place, but he made no move to leave the spot where he was leaning against the side of his car. I was helpless to do anything but stand there as I waited to see what he’d do next. I wanted him to go.
I really did.
So then why wasn’t I telling him that? Why wasn’t I screaming it to the heavens? Why wasn’t I alerting my neighbors and telling them to call the cops because there was a dangerous stranger in our midst?
They didn’t need to know that he was only a danger to me… to my sanity.
I willed him to move.
He didn’t.
I told myself to turn and walk away.
I couldn’t.
I begged Mac to whisper in my ear like he always had when he’d known I was too caught up in my own head… the words that had never failed to bring me back to him.
There was nothing.
Even the silence around me seemed off somehow. Like the whole world had abandoned me in that moment.
The fucked-up part was that I was strangely relieved. Because if it was just me and Matias, then there would be no one to witness my shame when I gave in to him. I knew that was exactly what I’d do if he approached me. Hell, at the rate things were going, he wouldn’t even need to move a muscle. I’d go to him. I’d be the one to disregard personal boundaries this time and I’d walk straight into his body in the hopes that those strong arms of his would wrap around me like they had before. I’d feel those firm lips against my ear as he told me all the things he wanted to do to me… would do to me.
It was utter insanity.
But I already had one foot in the door of the asylum.
The other was in the process of stepping off the curb.
And then my phone rang, shattering the silence around me. I gasped as I caught myself right before I stepped off the curb. My eyes shot up to where Matias was. My heart nearly pounded out of my chest when I realized that he was no longer leaning against his car… that he’d taken several steps away from it.
Toward me.
Dear God, when had that happened? Had he moved first?
Or had I?
I fumbled to pull my phone out of my pocket. I nearly dropped the damn thing when I saw Elliot’s name on the caller ID.
I tried to command my finger to hit the accept button to answer the call, but instead, my eyes jerked up and sought out the last person my mind should be focused on at the moment. A violent shiver coursed through me as I saw Matias was getting into his car. I bit down hard on my lower lip to keep from calling out to him. As the engine of the nondescript sedan turned over, my phone went silent. I swallowed hard and tore my gaze from the vehicle. I refused to allow myself to look in that general direction as I searched out the most recent call on my phone and selected it.
“Dad?” my son asked. There was no missing the concern in his voice.
“Yeah, sorry, I was…” I let my words drop off because I couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. I stared at the sidewalk as if the cement could somehow conjure up the right words that wouldn’t be a complete and utter lie. But my damn eyes wouldn’t stay put. I willed them, cursed them, and finally flat-out ordered them not to look in the direction of that fucking car, but they did it anyway.
He was leaving.
The asshole was finally leaving.
Thank God.
“Dad?”
I told myself to celebrate the sight of the two red taillights disappearing into the darkness, but I couldn’t pull it off. There was no victory to be had. I’d still let the guy jerk me off. I’d still nearly called out his name as I’d come in his hand. I’d still taken that first step forward, not once, but twice.
“Dad?”
The heightened pitch of Elliot’s voice snapped me from my thoughts. “Yeah, El, I’m here. Sorry,” I muttered as I turned away from the street and began making my way toward my neighbor’s walkway.
“You okay?” Elliot asked.
I nodded and said, “I’m good. You?”
This time, it was my son I had to send a silent apology to.
Not only for lying to him because I was very much not okay, but because I didn’t hear a thing he said after that.