Essentialism (Bridgette & Troy's Story) (31 page)

“Don’t yell at me.”

“I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to yell, it’s…it’s just I can’t go there with you. Not after seeing you like that on that bed. It freaks me out, okay?”

“But you want to. I know deep down you do. Let it go, I have.”

I try to stay calm although my blood is boiling. “I can’t, baby. You still have bruises from what that prick did. I know you say you are okay with this, but what if I trigger something and it takes you back to that day? I can’t risk it. I won’t risk what we have for my kink. You mean too damn much, Bridge.

“I know you’re concerned and I appreciate that. But there’s nothing that can trigger within me to make me think of him. I’ve let it go. I’ve had to do it my whole life and have gotten really good at it. David’s done, he’s gone. Yeah, I’ll have to see him if he doesn’t cop a plea deal and I have to testify. But stressing now or ruining what we have isn’t going to help anything.”

“I don’t know how you do it, baby.”

“Do what?” she asks, confused.

“Let it go. Forget about him and what he did.”

“It’s easy. I focus my mind and energy on the good stuff in life. I’ve got you and that makes everything so much easier. I couldn’t imagine if I had to go at this alone. We just moved in and are having a normal, healthy conversation about our sex life. Things couldn’t be better.”

“God, I love you. I’m one lucky son of a bitch.”

“Hey, don’t call yourself that right before we see your mom.”

I laugh at her absurd remark and pull down my parents’ street. Their home is a new modern ranch style with enough space for them and my sister. “This conversation isn’t over,” she says.

“Sure it is.”

“Troy!” she snaps. “Don’t push me or I’ll handcuff myself and make you fuck me. Get over this, okay?”

“I might have an idea. Don’t go doing anything brazen, okay?” She nods her head as I put my Jeep in park. “So this is it.”

“It’s cute. I love the color.”

“I don’t know how my dad’s gonna be as far as drunk or not. So just try and take anything he says lightly and hopefully we won’t be here long.”

“It’ll be fine, baby. Let’s do this.”

I get out of the Jeep while she waits for me to open her door. As I grab her hand, I notice both of her wrists are covered in bracelets. I know she’s trying to hide the bruises; they are faint, but still there. We decided not to tell anyone who didn’t need to know about what happened, so I know she doesn’t want my parents to see the marks. Hopping out, she looks up at me looking hot as hell, in a pair of dark skinny jeans and a white t-shirt.

I pull her to me and press our lips together knowing it’ll be far too long before I can do this again. “Let’s go meet your family,” she says.

I walk us up to the front door looping our fingers together and as I go to knock, my mom answers it with the biggest smile on her face. “Troy,” she exclaims wrapping me in her arms. I have to let go of Bridgette’s hand, but for my mom it’s worth it. I feel my mom reach away from me to touch Bridgette. As I look to my side she is rubbing her arm. “So this is her? This is the one?”

Instantly I turn ten shades of crimson knowing this is what I am in for tonight. Fuck my big mouth for spouting off. I may or may not have told her that Bridgette was the one…

“Mom, this is Bridgette. Bridge, this is my mom, Krista.”

Bridgette goes for a handshake, but my mom engulfs her in a hug like she’s known her for years. “Sweetheart, it’s so nice to meet you. Troy didn’t mention how beautiful you are.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” she responds.

“Oh Lord, Troy, and she has manners. Wait ‘til your father meets her. Come in, come in.”

My stomach tightens at the thought of my dad meeting her. I know at first he’ll be all nice to try and make me look like an asshole for bad-mouthing him, but it won’t be long ‘til he has a few drinks and then we’re all in trouble.

“Jared, Brittany,” my mom calls out as we enter the house following her into the kitchen. “They’ll be up soon,” she says. “I know Brittany has a big chess tournament they’ve been preparing for.

“She’s still into chess?” I ask as we lean up against the counter.

“Yes, dear. You know how she is, busy-busy.”

I thought my sister wasn’t playing chess anymore. It was something my dad always wanted her to do. Last I knew she was going to tell him she wasn’t interested in it anymore, but I guess not.

“Mmm, it smells great, Krista. What did you cook?” Bridgette asks.

“Pork chops, Troy’s favorite.”

“No shit. Thanks, Ma.”

“Of course, darling. So tell me what you kids have been up to lately.”

Both Bridgette and I look at each other. “Not much. We just got back from the cabin; it was nice to get away.

Then I hear my dad and sister walk up from the basement. “Troy, I sure hope you cleared that with your mom, because I sure as hell didn’t know about it.”

My mom swallows hard and looks at me. I feel bad knowing that she and I didn’t talk about it first. Thinking fast, I try and put some shit together to cover my ass, but like usual my mom does it for me. “Of course he cleared it with me, Jared, don’t be silly. It just slipped my mind, dear.”

The conversation ends with that statement and my sister runs over to me wrapping me in a big hug. “Hey, Brit,” I say holding her back.

“Hey. How have you been?”

“I’m good. I have someone I want you to meet.” Looking next to me, Bridgette is smiling at us and outstretches her hand to shake Brittany’s.

“You must be Brittany.”

My sister takes her hand and says, “You must be Bridgette.”

“I am. It’s nice to meet you. Troy has told me so many great things about you.”

“Thanks.”

“Bridge, this is my dad, Jared,” I interject and introduce the man standing across from me.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” she says, shaking his hand. He looks intently into her eyes, like he’s trying to read her then and there as they shake. A wave of nausea takes over when he looks down at her wrists.
Please don’t let him notice the marks.
He’s the only one who knows about my fetish besides Bridge. He caught me with my high school girlfriend and that’s where our relationship went wrong. He was a POW and was held captive for eight months. That shit has fucked with him for years. It’s part of the reason he drinks, to dull the pain. I know he was tied while he was held captive and that’s why he has such a huge problem. He doesn’t accept that side of me and made it very clear then that he never will. Although what happened to him and what I do are two totally different things, to him they are not. I injured someone tying them up, and he’ll never let that go.

The oven dings and my mom says, “Why don’t you all have a seat at the table and I’ll bring the food out.”

“I can help,” Bridgette offers.

“That’s nonsense, dear.”

“Are you sure?” she asks again.

“Yes, yes, have a seat.” We all go and sit down, well, all of us except my mom and dad. He’s in the kitchen making himself a drink and I know it won’t be long until the obscenities start.

“So, Brit, Mom said you have a chess match next week, are you excited?”

She nods her head and I call bullshit. “It’s the semi-finals. If our team makes it, we go to the division finals.”

“So you play chess competitively?” Bridgette asks.

“Uh-huh.”

“I thought you did gymnastics?”

“I do that to.”

“Wow, how do you have the time to balance everything?”

“I stay up late a lot doing homework. After school is always busy, so I make sacrifices elsewhere. My sleep struggles a little, but I’m used to it.”

My dad joins us at the table while my mom follows in after him with her arms full of food.
Asshole.
Why, couldn’t he set his drink down to help her?

“Here, Ma, let me get some of this for you.” I stand up and take some of the things from her.

“Thanks, honey.”

She comes back in, setting the huge pan of pork chops down in front of me. My mouth begins to water. These are my favorite. I had no idea she was making them, but I am about to devour the entire pan. We all begin to serve our plates and before any of us has had our first bite, my dad is making himself another drink.

Bridgette looks at me and I smile at her. I know we don’t have long before the monster from within him is released. “So, Bridgette, tell us what you do for a living?” my mom asks sweetly.

“I’m an office manager for a local law firm.”

“Oh really, which one?”

“Smith, Brown, and Mileski,” she responds.

My dad huffs sitting back down and we all look at him waiting for him to say something. He piles food into his mouth and then to my surprise, Bridgette asks him, “Have you heard of them before, Mr. Sorano?”

He nods his head as he speaks, “Yeah, I have. They have that hot shot attorney from Phoenix, who’s,” my father air quotes the next statement, “‘Never lost a case.’ Yeah, right, he’s gotta be crooked. No one’s that good.”

Both Bridgette and I look at each other smiling and I say, “Actually, Dad, that’s Bridgette’s brother-in-law. Trust me, I know him, he’s far from crooked.”

“No way. That’s awesome,” Brittany exclaims. “I’ve heard about him, he’s pretty amazing in the courtroom. I would love to be an attorney one day.”

“Really? Well, he’s a great guy, and so are C.J. and Liam. If you’re serious about a degree in law, let me know. I’m sure I could get you a meeting with the guys.”

My mom puts her hand over Bridgette’s and before she can speak my dad slams his hand on the table. “Over my dead body. I said he’s crooked and so are the rest of them. Plus they’re nothing but a bunch of young punks. I don’t want my daughter near them, especially if you’re vouching for them, Troy.”

I glare at him, completely thrown off. All I said was I knew Vincent. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I’m sure they are just like you. Look at what you’ve already done to this poor girl.” Reaching across the table, he lifts Bridgette’s wrist and moves her bracelets. She pulls away holding her arm tightly against her chest. I can’t help but shoot out of my chair, looking down at him. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Really, Troy? I don’t? Are you sure you want to do this here?” he questions.

I stand trying to decide if I want my mom and sister to know about that side of me. This is his opportunity to out me. If he does, all of the pieces of the puzzle will click together; everything that has happened over the past ten years will fall into place, and make sense for them. This is why he hates me. This is why I have never and will never live up to his standards.

“I know what you are, Troy, and it disgusts me. You’re no better than those pigs who held me captive.” I’m speechless, frozen, and ready to take my own father out. However, there’s venom in his tone and I know that, mixed with the alcohol, puts me at a great disadvantage. I know if I push this, it’ll hurt more for my mom to know the truth. He’ll paint me as a monster. Instead of putting her through that and giving him another victory, I grab Bridgette’s hand. Right away she stands next to me. “You don’t know shit about me,” I snarl.

“I don’t? Bridgette, who put those marks on your arms?”

“Fuck off, we’re leaving. I’m sorry, Ma. I just…I can’t.” I can barely look at her as we exit the kitchen and I bolt for the front door. All I hear is the sounds of her sobs. I hate that she had to see this.
Fuck.
Why did he have to take it to this level? If he was really concerned, which I doubt he was, he could have taken me aside and asked.

Rage washes through me as we get into the Jeep. Bridgette doesn’t speak and I know it’s for the best. I need a few minutes to calm down. On the drive home, I hold her hand tightly. She sits facing me, chewing on her nails. My cell phone rings and I know without answering it, it’s my mom. I can’t talk to her right now. Pulling into the driveway, I put the car in park and rest my head back. Then I take in a deep breath, hoping it will clear my mind.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Bridgette whispers.

“No, no, no. Don’t be sorry, Bridge. You didn’t do a thing wrong. Thank you for not engaging him and leaving with me.”

“Of course. I go where you go. We’re a pair and there’s nothing I want to tackle in this life without you.”

“I feel the same.”

“Would it help if we talked about what happened?”

I exhale loudly, letting all of the air escape my lungs shaking my head. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Why did he accuse you of hurting me and say he knows what you are?”

“God, this happened so long ago, baby. I fucked up. It only happened once and I swear it will never happen again. He caught me with a girl in high school. I was curious and she let me tie her up. I didn’t know what I was doing and it left marks, really bad marks, a lot like yours.” Taking my hand, I brush her bracelets out of the way and trace the remnants of the bruising. “The thing about my dad is he was a POW and was held captive for eight months. He was tied up and shit like that fucks with him. Because of that he doesn’t agree with my lifestyle choices and since that day, he has treated me differently.”

“I’m so sorry, baby. I had no idea.”

“It’s okay. It’s not something I talk about, babe. His past is his, not mine. But for me, I didn’t know how hard all of this was going to be, then seeing these marks on you took me back. I don’t want to ever tie you up again.”

“What about what I want?” she asks me point blank. “I trust you and I love you for the man that you are. I fell in love with you because of all the little things, the kinky side of you being one of them. Please don’t take that away from me.”

I never in a million years thought she would enjoy my kink as much as I do. For years I dreamt of finding someone like Bridge…now I have her and don’t know how I got so goddamn lucky.
Please don’t take that away from me.
Her words replay in my mind like a broken record.

Instinctively, I know what I have to do; there is something else I can give her. Not her wrists, but I can tie her a million other ways. I get out of the car walking to her side with purpose. Swiftly removing her and tossing her over my shoulder, she giggles as I do. Jesus, I love her laugh.