Violence Begets... (12 page)

A small voice in the back of my head
warned me to hold onto the counter, to keep my hands firmly in place. Fuck, I didn’t
want to. I wanted to feel my fingers dig into the skin that smelled so delicious.
My mouth opened and my tongue slowly touched his neck, assaulted with salt and a
hint of bitterness. I wanted to claim his body, to mark him and leave my own taste
behind. As my lips descended, he strangled out a ragged, “Shit!” His hands were
on my chest, pushing me away, and before I knew what he was doing, he was out of
the bathroom. Dazed, I stared at the open door, confused by the emptiness I felt.
                                                       

“Ahh, fuck me,” I breathed out.
Way
to fucking seduce yourself, you hot piece of shit.
Even my self-scolding sounded
pathetic. Things couldn’t have gone any worse.                                               

I heard the front door open and close
and knew he was gone. Damn, how the hell was I supposed to explain his disappearing
act to the guys? Then I heard the garage door opening. Really? I cursed again. Couldn’t
God give me one second to sort out one fuckup before he threw my father into the
mix? Grabbing my phone, I brought it back up to my ear and re-entered the kitchen
the way I’d left.

“Sure, I completely get it, babe,” I
said into the phone. “Okay, gotta run, I’ll see you tomorrow. Good?” I acted like
I was ending the call and returned the phone to my pocket before my father walked
in. I glanced at him and then quickly to the guys on the couch, making sure he was
aware of the situation before he said a word. He nodded slightly and walked into
the kitchen. Without thinking much about it, I took a step out of the kitchen in
the opposite direction.

Slipping into my 'life-is-perfect-in-the-Vincent-home'
role, I asked about my father’s day at work. He smiled. He knew his part and I knew
mine. We chatted back and forth about his day, both making up lies to convince our
audience of the truth we wanted them to believe. He asked what I wanted for dinner
and if my friends would be joining us. I’d never invite them for a meal, and we
all knew that. He actually started preparing the food as well. This was not a good
sign. I knew his rhythms. I could almost always tell the kind of night it was going
to be within moments of him walking in the door. In most cases, I saw it coming
days in advance, and I should’ve seen this one coming. These were always the easiest
to peg. The nicer he got, the more creative he was becoming.

The normal beatings, with a belt or
whatever, were the ones that happened on a regular basis. They moved in and out
of our lives like steady ocean waves. Roughly once a week, they came crashing into
things, slowly subsiding and then returning. It was as natural as breathing—in and
out, in and out. Sometimes I mouthed off just to get it out of the way. Other times
I knew that nothing I said or did would lessen what was coming, so I kept my mouth
shut.

But routine was boring and he had to
mix it up. As he got closer to his creative punishments, he became nicer, smoothing
out the edges of our dysfunction so he could tear it apart with calculated ease.

His emptiness was what I really needed
to be scared of. It was deadly and it terrified me. But he was in his creative mode.
I quickly scanned back to his last creative session, nearly two months ago. This
was good. The longer the time between meant the more time he had to come up with
new methods. Two months would be bad but not life-threatening. Nonetheless, if I
hadn’t been so focused on Rick, I would’ve seen it coming days ago and would have
had more time to prepare. Now I was going to have to fucking take what he gave me
with little time to get myself into the right frame of mind.

As the guys left and the front door
shut, he wasted no time.

“Bedroom, now,” he said from the kitchen.
I wondered if he was turning the heat off the half-cooked ground turkey. Centering
myself, I counted the stairs to the basement, trying to clear my mind. The anticipation
was sometimes worse than the actual punishment. He was right behind me, itching
to get things going. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I started over, counting
how many steps it took to get from the last stair to the center of my bedroom. I
knew how many; I’d counted hundreds of times: twenty-four.

He threw a broom handle on the carpet
near my bed. “Kneel,” he commanded.

I hesitated for a split second, knowing
it was going to be a painful one.

“Kneel!” He grabbed my shoulder and
pressed me down towards the broom as I positioned my knees on the handle. The sharpness
of the pain immediately sent shooting spears up my thighs and a dull ache towards
my feet. I sat back on my ankles, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure, but
his belt immediately lashed across my back.

“No! Up!” I quickly sat back up, returning
all the pressure to my knees, and began my internal countdown: one, shut down thoughts
of school; two, shut down thoughts of hard, hot bodies; three, shut down thoughts
of the guys; four, relax the muscles in the neck; five, relax the shoulders, and
so on.

 “What did I do wrong?” I asked, trying
to give myself more time to get into my head. The belt lashed again, but he said
nothing as the buckle cut into my back. He was good. He rarely hit my face, usually
only when I pushed.

“You will kneel here until I am satisfied
that you have learned your lesson.” Fuck, I knew there was no lesson. This was a
creative session. But I needed more time.

“What lesson?” I asked, and the belt
lashed again. I lost my balance and fell forward.

“Five times for every time you move
off the handle.” I struggled to position myself as the belt rained down on my back
again and again. Okay, maybe there was a lesson. That was something to focus on.
My mind started to search the possible lessons he thought I should learn. Had he
found out about the clubs? No, it would be much worse if he had. It couldn’t be
the cleaning. I’d mastered that years ago.
Fuck, my knees!
Hell, I had to
figure things out. The longer I kneeled, the more distracting the pain became and
the more difficult it was to hold on to any thoughts or logic.

“Ten minutes and still nothing?” The
belt crashed against my back again, surprising me and making me lose my balance.
As I hurried to center myself back on the broom, five more lashes crashed against
my skin. I gasped, throwing my head back. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to focus
my thoughts.
Goddamnit, focus, you fucker,
I thought to myself harshly. The
pain in my legs started screaming at me, the muscles in my back constricting from
the onslaught. It was impossible to figure out what he wanted; my mind could only
find the pain.

“Twenty minutes.” The lash came, but
I braced as I heard it swing through the air and didn’t lose my balance. There,
I had the focus within my reach. It was coming.
I can do this
, I told myself.
Shutting down thoughts of Rick, shutting down thoughts of pain, shutting it all
out was part of the game.

During the next four hours, every ten
minutes the belt would fly through the air and crash into my back. I grasped onto
my focus and fucking held it for all I was worth. It wasn’t easy. I lost my balance
seven more times, four of them in the last hour as my body gave out on me. He never
told me what lesson I was supposed to learn. As I lay on the floor, trying to pull
myself together, I reminded myself that there was no fucking lesson.

Rick

“So, yeah. The Homecoming dance is tomorrow.
I know it’s crazy short notice and kinda lame, but…,” I drifted off. I hadn’t planned
on asking Jessica to the dance. I hadn’t planned on going to the dance at all. But
after the week I’d had with Kevin, I had to prove to him that I wasn’t interested
in what he was pushing. I prayed she hadn’t already been asked. As perfect as she
was, I was sure she had, but at the same time I hoped people assumed she was going
with me and stayed away. It wasn’t fair to wish this for her, and guilt coursed
through me.

“Are you asking me on a date, Rick St.
James?” she asked, smiling up at me through her eyelashes.

God, she is so beautiful,
I thought.

“I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Well, I mean…of course I am. I’d be
insane not to ask you to Homecoming. What better way to start our senior year together?”
I asked, believing every word I told her.

“Why the short notice? You ask someone
else and get turned down?” she teased.

“There’s no one else,” I said, feeling
the lie as it came out. Stepping in front of her to stop her from continuing down
the hall, and bringing my hands to both of her cheeks, I gently brought my lips
to hers and kissed her.
Come on
, I told myself.
Let this feel right!
Her body melted into mine and it seemed that she would break. I deepened my kiss,
searching for more, needing more.

“Gosh, you’ve sure turned up the heat
the last few weeks. Okay, okay, I’ll go.” I let out a sigh of relief as she ducked
out of my arms and said, “You’re rather convincing, Mr. St. James.” She smiled brightly
and my heart nearly caved in on itself. The blush in her cheeks was evidence that
my kiss had done to her exactly what I’d wanted it to do to me. She was turned on
and I was empty. There was something wrong with me. “I’m gonna be late to class,”
she said, nearly skipping down the hall. “We’ll talk details later.” She disappeared
into the crowd, and I sighed as I turned and ran right into Kevin, with Mike and
Brett on his heels.

“Details of what?”

I knew it was safer to have this conversation
with Brett and Mike nearby.

“Details for the dance tomorrow. I’m
taking Jessica,” I said and held my breath.

“You fucked ‘er yet?”

“Jesus, Kevin,” I said, walking away
from him, not wanting him to see in my eyes what I really wanted.

“Are we done here?” His hint of coolness
didn’t escape me.

“I’m gonna to be late to class,” I said,
picking up my pace.

“Your class is in the other direction,”
he called after me. He paused as I slowed to a stop. “Same way we’re headed. We’ll
walk with you.” His face didn’t betray any emotion as I turned and started walking
with them, but I noticed that he didn’t move as smoothly as he normally did. I watched
him closely, aware now that he hid just as much as I did. He was definitely in pain.
I was distracted from the mess of my life as I watched him weave, almost gracefully,
down the crowded hallway without ever coming into contact with another body.

We hadn’t talked about anything that
had taken place over the last few months. There was no mention of my brother or
his dad, and other than the moments he was intentionally tormenting me with his
game, he acted as if nothing had changed. In the meantime, I felt like my world
was spinning out of control. When Jason died, my world had stopped. Now Kevin had
turned it upside down, and I didn’t recognize anything anymore.

Thankfully, Brett and Mike ran with
the conversation, asking how far I’d gotten with Jessica. I answered them without
ever really telling them anything. Kevin said he’d asked Kari to the dance, but
I knew he was lying. I’d talked to her that morning and she was going with someone
else. I was not stupid enough to call him on it though. And now, because Kevin was
going, it seemed all of us were going to the dance together. So much for trying
to get away from him.

With flasks loaded in Jeremy’s dad’s
van and Mike’s brother’s car, we picked up our dates and headed to dinner the next
night. Kevin had managed to sucker Kari into going with him. She’d ditched her other
date as soon as Kevin turned on his best behavior. It made me sick to witness. I’d
somehow managed to get stuck in Jeremy’s van with Brett, but it was better than
being with Kevin and Kari.

As soon as we got to the dance, I pulled
Jessica behind me and disappeared into the throngs of people, wondering why I’d
ever thought coming to the dance with these guys would be a good idea. Then I remembered
I
hadn’t
thought it was a good idea; it was all Kevin’s doing.

I tugged on Jessica, heading for the
dance floor.

“You must really love to dance.”

“What?” I asked, glancing at her behind
me.

“Dancing. You must love it. I’ve never
seen you so focused, you know?”

“Oh yeah, that. Umm, dancing’s okay.
I just want to get you alone, away from them,” I said, turning and pulling her into
my arms. My eyes scanned the crowd behind her, immediately finding Kevin. He was
staring right at me. I spun her around so my back was facing him. I wasn’t going
to pay him any attention. Out of sight, out of mind. I smiled down at her. “You
don’t mind, do you?”

“That you stole me away? Not at all.”
She smiled at me. I pulled her slender body into mine, feeling the way it curved
around me. I knew this should be what I wanted. I tried to tell myself that this
had to be what I wanted.

“Hey, sorry I missed your birthday a
few weeks ago,” she said, looking up at me.

“Wait, how’d you know it was my birthday?”
I hadn’t told anyone and had intentionally tried to forget about it.

“Ahh, so I’m right. An August baby.”
She smiled innocently. “I knew it had to be over the summer, but you wouldn’t tell
me so I had to try to narrow it down somehow. Kevin’s in August as well. Both of
you are such young babies. Seniors and just barely seventeen. I don’t get why you
guys are all shy about it.”

I couldn’t really tell her that my dad
avoided my birthday since it also marked the anniversary of my mom’s death, but
I found it weird that Kevin hadn’t mentioned his either. And there he was again,
invading my mind.

 “So, why did you agree to come with
me? I bet there’re a dozen guys who asked you,” I said, hoping she’d drop the birthday
conversation.

“Why wouldn’t I go with you?”

“Why would you?”

“You are so fishing for a compliment.”

“Maybe.” I used my hands to move her
hips with mine, swaying with her to a song that wasn’t quite slow enough to wrap
her in my arms, but not nearly fast enough to pull away from her. I turned on my
best smile and cocked my head to the side. I’d seen Kevin do it with all his girls
and I wondered if it would work for me. And there he was in my head again. I flexed
my fingers in frustration and must have gripped onto Jessica harder than I thought.

“That’s why,” her lowered voice purred
at me, “’cause I’m never sure what I’m gonna get with you—hot, cold, totally into
me, then just friends, sweet and innocent, or bad and sexy.”

I barked out a laugh. “What are you
talking about?” I spun her around and my eyes landed on Kevin again, still staring
at me. I focused in on Jessica.

“Just that. See, now you’re being all
normal and light, and a second ago I saw a darkness cross your eyes and you got
all broody and sexy.”

“Me, sexy?”

“Yes, silly. You so have that bad-boy-with-a-heart-of-gold
act working for you.”

Again, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Jessica, I’m so far from a bad boy.”

“You drink, you smoke, you’re a player
and you hang out with Kevin Vincent. You are the perfect bad boy.”

“And you are so nuts. I’m not a player.”

“Yeah, then how many girls have you
kissed since you moved here?”

“Easy—one.”

“What?” Now it was her turn to be caught
off guard.

“You heard me.”

“Bull!”

“It’s true.”

She lightly smacked me on the arm. “And
that just proves my point. Heart of gold. How’s any girl supposed to resist that?”

“Why would one want to resist?” I asked,
teasing her.

“Oh no, I’m not. I just never know what
I’m going to get from you.”

“I don’t know half the time either.”
I bent in and found her lips. Kissing her was easy. Jessica was so laid back and
the banter came naturally. I really liked her, and she was so honest. I always knew
exactly what I was getting with her. I didn’t need to worry about any games or hidden
agendas. I immediately felt guilty because all she got from me were lies and hidden
agendas. I made myself get lost in a kiss with her, trying to make her feel good,
to feel what I wanted to feel. She broke off the kiss, breathless.

“And with talent like that,” she whispered,
“you’re going to break my heart one of these days.”

My stomach tightened into a knot. “No,
I think you're much more likely to break mine. I mean, how can I compete with all
that free love?” I teased her. She was right. If I couldn’t make myself want her,
I’d end up hurting her. I didn’t want that. I reached for my flask to take a quick
nip, but groaned out in frustration when I couldn’t find it, and she immediately
took it wrong.

“I know,” she sighed. “I feel the same
way.” She tucked herself into my arms as the music slowed. I closed my eyes and
tried to imagine actually dating her and not just fooling around with her—taking
her to the movies and calling her to tell her goodnight and that I loved her. I
could picture it all.

As the song ended, I led her off the
dance floor. I told her I’d left my flask in the car, and that I was going to run
and get it. She seemed fine to hang out with some of her friends, so I hit Jeremy
up for the keys to his van and kept an eye out for Kevin. Luckily, since I’d left
the dance floor, I hadn’t seen him.

Flask in hand and several shots later,
I stopped dead in my tracks as I passed Mike’s car. There in the window was Kevin,
and from the looks of it, even though I couldn’t see her, I knew he was in the middle
of nailing Kari. She must’ve been lying down and he was kneeling over her, and almost
as if he’d planned it, he looked up at me within moments of my stopping.

I should’ve looked away. My mind screeched
at me, warning me against the inevitable place it would go. I should’ve run, but
I stood and stared at him. He smiled and winked at me, and I stopped breathing.
His body moved and rolled while strands of his black hair stuck to his forehead
with sweat. He kept his rhythm as his gaze traveled down my body, and I knew what
he was thinking. I was thinking the same horrible thoughts. I wondered what it would
feel like to have him move like that with me, to feel his sweat drip on me, to see
his muscles clench and move under his shirt like they were. His pace quickened and
he threw his head back, finally breaking the stare that held me in place. As his
body tightened and thrust, I watched with total focus, unable to break away from
his power. When he was done, he fell out of view, not looking at me again, and I
felt heat flush my body.

I turned, feeling anger rise as I went
back towards the school. I tried to tell myself that I wasn’t mad, that I didn’t
want to feel his skin against mine. I was just pissed because he was playing games
with me, and I didn’t like being toyed with. By the time I entered the gym I was
itching to leave again, to go find a quiet place and smoke a joint. As I searched
the crowd for Jessica, I was surprised to find her and Brett off to the side of
the dance floor. He leaned towards her and—I swear to god—he kissed her, and that’s
all it took to send me through the roof. I saw her try to pull away, but he stepped
towards her again. She obviously wasn’t welcoming his advances. I nearly sprinted
towards him and slammed both of my palms against him, watching him fly to the side
and stumble with surprise. “Get your hands off her!” I roared as I pictured Kevin’s
hands on Kari.

“What the hell, St. James? What’s your
problem?” Brett said as he turned, ready for a fight. He took several steps and
swung at me. I ducked, my fights with my dad having prepared me more than I’d expected.
Any fear I may have had disappeared because I knew that nothing Brett handed me
would compare with what my dad dealt.

“Come on, Brett, you’ve been itching
for this for a long time. Let’s have it.” I threw a punch and connected, the shock
from the force sending tingling pain through my arm. He shook it off and threw his
fist up under my chin. My head snapped back.

“What the fuck?” Kevin’s voice sliced
through the music. Without thinking, I turned and directed all my anger at the real
source. All the rage I had in me flew through my body and was looking for one way
out—my fist to his face. Seconds before I connected, he reached out, gripped my
flying fist in his hand and spun me around with my arm locked securely behind my
back. “Rick! Outside now!” His voice was cold enough that it put out my temper instantly.
“Brett. The rest of you, stay the fuck here!” he commanded, shoving me towards a
nearby exit. As he slammed me through the door, he ordered, “the catwalk, and don’t
say a fucking word or I swear to god I’ll lose my motherfucking temper.” I could
tell by the strain in his voice that he was actually trying to control himself.
I obeyed. While I wasn’t scared of Brett, I’d seen what Kevin’s dad was capable
of, and I was positive Kevin could do the same.