His Wounded Light (32 page)

He watches me with glazed eyes as I pass it back to him. He does a line with a small black tube and delivers it right back to me. I follow his lead with the line. Through my reflection, I can see the fine white powder being sucked into my nose and I’m fascinated by it.

“How do you function with this stuff, Lucas? I don’t think I would be able to. Look at me now, I’m useless.” I snort and inhale, snort and inhale, until my head is spinning, my heart is palpitating and I’m beyond excited.

“I only do it socially, Isa. The other night, you were so tense, I just thought it would help relax you a little bit.” I can tell that he wants me present and engaged, that he’s worried about me ingesting too much of the substance. He takes the mirror back from me and hurries into the bathroom to put it away.

“We don’t need that to have fun, baby. Trust me.” He strolls back to where I am and sits on the floor facing me. He takes my hand and places it on himself. “This is what you do to me,” he whispers as he moves my hand up and down, making me feel the entire length of his arousal.

“Oh, I trust you,” I giggle. I can’t even sit up, so I push myself up on my elbows and pull him close to me. “I’m ready, Lucas, let’s play.” I tease him lightly with my lips and he tries to hold my head in place but I don’t let him. I like seeing him go crazy over me; I live for the chase. It gives me reason to go on, something to look forward to. I want someone to want me so much for a change.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you, Isa,” he hisses in my ear.

“I want you to hurt me. Tie me up and hurt me. I’ve been really naughty, Lucas.”

He doesn’t hesitate to push me up towards the headboard with my stomach still flat against the bed. I push my knees up to my chest, showing him what I want him to do to me. He reaches back into his bedside drawer, blindfolds me and cuffs my wrists to the headboard. Despite the isolation, I am fearless. I feel dauntless. The careful, methodical me has been replaced by someone who craves the unknown. With Lucas, I can disconnect myself from the present, forget about the past and not give a damn about the future.

“Are you sure about this Isa? Tell me to stop if I’m hurting you too much.”

I don’t say a word. I hear the crackle of his clothes as he undresses himself. I wait until he prepares me with his fingers and then rams into me from behind. There’s something else he’s using at the same time that he’s entering me. It feels intense but I don’t focus on it. I’m concentrating on sawing my wrists against the metal cuffs. My mind becomes a tangled web of embroidered purple blankets with dainty little bows and tiny pink booties made of ribbons and lace. I force my eyes shut and fixate on the pain. I purposely move my wrists so that they scrape my skin and then peel it off my bones. I twist them and I pull them so the otherwise harmless metal burns deep into its layers. I’m deriving so much pleasure, too much pleasure, from the sharp pain. The slicing of my skin feels hot and tingly. My bones hurt, my skin hurts, my core hurts.

“You like this, huh, baby. Do you?” His voice jerks me back to reality.

“Yes!” I cry. “Yes, yes.”
I’m already broken. Demolish me. Let me bleed out and die.

He stoops his head down, and turns my face sideways to kiss me deeply while continuing his thrusts. The warm sensation of blood dripping down my arms feels wildly erotic.

After a few minutes of losing myself, I think I’m ready to try something new.

“Free my hands, please,” I gasp.

He immediately stops to remove the bonds. It takes him awhile because we’re both so high that everything seems to be moving in slow motion.

I roll over to face him. He panics when he sees that my wrists are bleeding. I swat his hands away and start smearing the blood all over his back, his face, my lips. I provoke him by biting his neck and pulling his hair and pretty soon, I get the reaction I’ve been wanting. He bites my breast and sinks his teeth on my shoulder as he impales me so vigorously, I’m fiercely pushed up towards the headboard and my head bangs against the wood. And then I do it. I’ve read about it before and this time, I’m fearless enough to try it. I take his left hand and place it on my neck. As he’s thrusting and grunting and digging himself into me, I squeeze his hand, softly at first, caressing his fingers and spreading them apart so they close around my throat. I squeeze his hands tightly and then I clamp them on me tighter and tighter and tighter. I can feel the pulse in my neck throbbing underneath his hold. My breathing feels constricted, but I love that my thoughts become light and murky; I can feel my insides start to float. My eyes grow heavy, so I willingly close them. I try to recall who I am, where I am, but my mind is blank and I don’t feel anything at all.

I start to cough violently.

“Shit! Isa! What are you doing?”

He jumps off me and sits up on the bed. For a few seconds I hold his stare as he looks at me, bewildered about what just happened. Then he acts quickly and lifts me up to cradle me on his lap.

“Oh, baby. Why? Why are you doing this to yourself?” He rocks me back and forth and cups my face with his hands.

“Give me my penance, Lucas,” I demand between my sobs. “I just want to find peace.”

I wake up in the morning to find him holding me in his arms. My wrists are burning and his comforter is caked with blood. I’m ashamed of the fact that I don’t remember everything. I lie still for a few minutes, trying my hardest to recall the previous night. My throat is so dry that I need to get up and get a glass of water. He doesn’t move when I disconnect myself from his body. Minutes later, a pair of arms wrap around me as I’m standing by the machine on the counter, attempting to brew us some coffee. I press the ON button and turn around to face him.

“I’m so sorry about last night.” I lean against the crook of his neck and extend my arms around his waist.

He takes me by the hand and leads me to the living room. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and I’ve got a towel wrapped around my body. I don’t have any clothes to change into except for the ones I arrived in last night. At first we sit side by side, but then he puts his arm around me and pulls me towards his chest.

“Let’s sit and talk for a minute. What happened last night? Why did you do that?” He looks down at me intently. We’re like two strangers trying to get to know each other too soon.

“I don’t know. I guess I just got carried away.”

“Isa. Are you just seeing me because you know I like to do that kind of stuff?” He says “stuff” timidly, like he’s embarrassed to discuss it.

“No. I mean yes. Maybe.” I can’t see his face because I’m nuzzled against him, but I can feel him shaking his head.

“Listen. I know you’ve probably heard this tons of times before, but you’re a fascinating mystery to me and I want to get to know you better. In time, I might want to be more than just a rebellion for you. A release. What will happen to us then?”

“I don’t know, Lucas. I have so much going on right now. I’m not ready to be in a relationship. But I really like you a lot. Is that not enough for you?”

He takes my wrists in his hands and pulls them up for him to take a closer look. He kisses them each individually and pushes me down on the couch so that my head settles on the armrest. “Is this what you’re into? Hurting yourself, punishing yourself? Did you want to die last night?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I just wanted to feel good for once. I felt bold and for the first time, I wasn’t afraid to try it.”

His eyes zoom in over me and desire starts to burn. He slowly unwraps the towel from my body until I am covered with nothing.

“Oh God, Isa. What did he do to you? You don’t deserve to live this way. Let me show you how I want to love you from now on, if you’ll let me.” He slides himself on top of me until his lips are aligned with mine and kisses me. Slowly. Solicitously. Waiting until I reciprocate back. And I do. Because treating misery with kindness might be a different concept and it may just work for me.

We spend the rest of the day talking, watching movies and making love. The realization of what had transpired over these past two days makes me question who I am and what I stand for. As I stare at the stranger in the mirror while getting dressed to go home, I wonder whether I would ever be able to forgive myself for what I have done.

“Are you sure you have to leave tonight?” The sound of an unfamiliar voice transports me back to the present. I am standing in his robe, in his bathroom, in his home. He encircles his arms across my chest and plants little kisses on my neck. “Can’t you stay? I’ll take you home first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Sorry, I really have to go. I want to be home to see Eddie off to school.”

He tightens his hold and I relax my body against his. “You were absolutely amazing,” he whispers gruffly into my ear. “Stay with me a little longer. I’m not done taking care of you yet.”

I don’t stay. I will myself to leave.

I’ve decided to piece my life back together, determined to pick myself up and walk towards the light.

***

“Say something, I’m giving up on you

I’m sorry that I couldn’t get to you

Anywhere I would have followed you.

And I, will swallow my pride,

You’re the one that I love

And I’m saying goodbye.”

“Say Something” by A Great Big World

I’m finally able to schedule a dinner with my mother-in-law three weeks after Tony invited me. It’s my weekend with the children, so I’ve asked them to come with me to visit their grandparents before going to Ali’s house for movie night. We plan to camp out in the living room and watch movies together and neither of them can wait. We arrive at the Ailey house at 6:30 pm and are met at the door by Alex’s excited parents. The warmth of their greeting overwhelms me with so much yearning that I start to cry as soon as his mother wraps her arms around me.

The kids run in to see their cousins, and soon we are all sitting around the dining table for dinner. The maids are busy serving a seven-course meal, something that we are no longer accustomed to now that I only have two people to help me around our apartment. Eddie and his cousins are busy having their own conversations and Maddy is strapped in her booster chair next to me, playing with her peas. Alex’s parents ask about me, my work and my writing. I talk freely and openly about my business dealings and the problems we’re having with some tenants. After dinner, Alex’s dad invites the children to the theater room to watch movies and play games. I’m left at the dining table with only his mom. As soon as they leave, she reaches over to me and takes my hand. I wince and pull it back, pretending to cover my mouth to stifle a cough. My wrists are still raw and scabby and I’m afraid she’ll see through the layers of my bracelets.