Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set (83 page)

I feel so confused right now and it’s difficult to understand where he’s going with all this. I say nothing and shake my head in frustration as I take a deep, unsteady breath. Things have been going so well between us. How did we get here?
Your mother.
Oh, yes. This is all her fault. Probably exactly what she intended to come from her little performance this evening.

“But I don’t know why the fuck I’m surprised that it’s come to this,” Josh continues to shout at me. “I don’t know what the hell you’re still doing here anyway. You should have been long gone by now. Your mother is right! Someone like you should never be with a fucked up monster like me!”

“Monster? Why would you say something so ugly about yourself?” I am stunned. “Where is all this coming from, Josh? What is really going on? What did my mother say to you the other night? Does this have anything to do with what you wanted to talk to me about on the dance floor?”

“I’m just calling it like it is, Samantha,” he yells, and I note that his hands are balled into tight fists as he prowls around the small room, looking like a caged animal as he shouts at me. “Don’t try to act like you don’t know what I’m talking about! And yes, you mother claims to know all about it. Everything I haven’t told you. I’m sure your brother probably has all the gory details too. That’s why he feels like he needs to protect you from me!”

Everything he hasn’t told me? What? That’s it; I can’t take this anymore. I don’t know how my mother’s bad behavior has made him think of Danny Pierce but I’m sick of him always comparing himself to his father. Always using that as an excuse not to get close to me. Is that what this is? Fear of us getting closer? Is he trying to push me away?

“Just because your father was a mean, cruel, violent man, does not mean that you are too, Josh,” I yell at him. “I have no doubt in my mind or in my heart that you would
never
lay a hand on me in anger. Look at us! We have been arguing for half an hour and you haven’t hit me! And I know with certainty that you never would. Why don’t you have that same certainty about yourself?” I shout.

“Because I killed the son of a bitch!”

It is a forceful, bitter yell, and it echoes throughout the small house as all the air leaves my lungs and then … there is stillness.

What?

I can’t have heard him correctly. I know that he didn’t just say that … did he? Suddenly, the silence is shattered by a deep, mournful, agonized sob and Josh falls to the floor on his hands and knees. I stand frozen, watching in stunned silence as he crawls across the floor and sits with his back to the side of the couch and buries his face in his hands, weeping like a child.

Oh, my God!
“Joshua!” It is a heartbroken whisper, and I am on the floor in an instant, sitting in front of him in my pretty maid of honor dress and heels. Tentatively, I touch his leg as I try to talk to him. “Josh, please talk to me,” I beg him quietly.
Oh, please don’t clam up now!
“What do you mean you killed him?”

“I mean I killed him,” he answers, his words garbled by his sobs. “He was beating her,” he manages to choke out. “She had begged him to stop but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t stop. He just kept hitting her and hitting her. Until she finally couldn’t speak anymore. She couldn’t even scream. He was killing her.”

He is overcome then, his body wracked by sobs, and he’s unable to speak again for several minutes.
Oh. My. God.
I knew that he had witnessed his father’s violence against his mother often when he was growing up, and that he had seen unspeakable things but … I never expected this. I think I feel nauseous. Timidly, I reach up and caress his arm, wanting desperately to comfort him but not knowing how. Finally, he composes himself enough to continue.

“I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t. I went after him. I had to make him stop,” he says, looking at me with wild eyes that I’m not sure are actually seeing me. “I pulled him off of her and punched him as hard as I could,” he whispers harshly. “And then I kept hitting him. We fought and fought … out of the bedroom and into the hallway. But he was so much stronger than me. He picked me up and threw me up against the wall, and it hurt so bad. But, he was heading back into the bedroom after her. I couldn’t let him get to her! I couldn’t.” His voice is a panicked, urgent sob, as if he’s reliving it all over again as he grasps at my arms, and my heart aches for him. “I got up and I ran to the hall closet and I grabbed the baseball bat. Then I just started to swing, with all of my might! And I hit him over and over and over. Finally he managed to grab the bat, trying to pull it away from me. And I just let go.”

He is silent then, softly crying with his face buried in his hands once more, and I can’t believe what I’m hearing. This can’t honestly be his reality, can it? We are quiet for the longest time, and his tears slowly begin to subside, and the ensuing silence is almost spooky. Idly, I begin to wonder how much time has passed. I don’t want him to stop talking now. Not in the middle of his story. “Josh,” I whisper softly, caressing his arm once more, “what happened then?”

He sniffs a few times as he composes himself. Wiping the tears from his face he says softly, “He fell backwards down the stairs when I let go of the bat.” His voice is eerily quiet and his face is expressionless. “Broke his neck. He died instantly.” His tears seem to have stopped for now but he appears sort of despondent. Emotionally spent. But just when I think he’s done and won’t say any more, he continues.

“I have relived that moment in my nightmares every single day since I was fourteen years old,” he says softly. He looks up at me slowly, and for the first time in several minutes, I sense that he is fully aware of his surroundings. His eyes are suddenly full of fear as they hold my steady gaze and he looks like a very small, very scared little boy and I just want to hold him.

“Until I met you,” he says earnestly. “All my nightmares stopped the day I fell in love with you!”

Oh!

“I need you! I need you so much. Please, don’t leave me, Samantha.” His soft voice is full of fear.

“Josh, I’m not going anywhere,” I quietly assure him. “Why do you think I would leave?”

“Because I am a monster,” he hisses, and his eyes are full of self-loathing and doubt.

“You are
not
a monster,” I counter. “Don’t say that again!”

“Only animals kill their own parents, Sam,” he says angrily, and his eyes well with tears again. “I wouldn’t blame you if you left me … but I’m begging you not to.”

“You are not a monster, and you are not an animal!” I am practically yelling now but, I can’t help it. I need for him to know the real truth. “Danny Pierce was the animal, Josh. Not you! You protected your mother from
that
monster. You saved your mother’s life … just like you saved mine! And I am not going anywhere. I love you, Josh!”

He is crying openly again, sobbing. And I am stunned when he suddenly moves toward me. He curls up into a fetal position on the floor, placing his head in my lap as my arms fold around him.
Oh, Josh!
My poor, scared, angry young man … carrying around so much guilt and pain and misplaced responsibility for all these years.

And suddenly I understand it all so clearly. His fear of falling in love and his worries that my family won’t think he’s good enough. And his self-loathing. I thought it was just because he hates the fact that he looks so much like his father but, it goes much deeper than that. In Josh’s mind, he killed his dad, plain and simple. Never mind the fact that he was saving his mother’s life in the process. Or that his father’s fall was most likely an accident. That doesn’t matter in Josh’s way of thinking. To him, he’s responsible for his dad’s death. And I know that his real fear is that he believes he is actually capable of taking the life of someone he’s supposed to love. Deliberately. That he really has become a monster … just like Danny Pierce. It’s no wonder talking about his dad brings up such feelings of bitterness and pain.

“That man has caused Josh nothing but grief. In life and in death.”

Lee Parson’s words that night at The Slammer suddenly come back to me, and I can’t help but think how true his words were. Josh’s dad has caused him nothing but grief. And even though he’s gone and can’t physically hurt him or Olivia ever again, the emotional pain is still going on. It could go on for the rest of his life if he lets it. And I want so much to save him from that, to spare him all of that angst and heartache. I want him to forget about his past and just let it go and live in the present with me. Build a future with me. But perhaps we can begin by just getting up off the floor and into the bed.

“Josh?” My voice is small and cautious. “Sweetie, let’s go to bed, okay?” He doesn’t answer. His only response is to tighten the little ball his body is curled up in and snuggle closer to me. “Oh, Josh,” I whisper tearfully, lightly rubbing my hand over his back. Taking a deep breath, I try again, more forcefully this time. “Come on,” I say, speaking softly but with authority. “You can’t stay on the cold floor, Joshua. Come to bed with me.” I move slowly then, forcing him to lift his head from my lap. He sits up slowly and looks at me and I still see fear and uncertainty in his eyes.

“You’re not leaving?” he asks, and his soft voice is full of disbelief.

Gently, I lift my hand to his beautiful face. “No. The only place I’m going is to bed. With you,” I say softly. He takes a deep, relieved, unsteady breath and then he slowly gets to his feet. He reaches out his hands to me and I take them, and he helps me to stand. We stare into one another’s eyes for a long moment and he looks so exhausted. Like he’s just been through the fight of his life.

My hands still in his, I take a step back, ready to lead him to the bedroom. But before I can, he stops me.

“Sam,” he says softly. I step toward him once more and he stares into my eyes with such intensity, I feel as if he’s looking into my soul, and I’m unable to look away.

“Yes?”

He swallows hard, his eyes never wavering from mine. “I love you.” It is barely a whisper. A softly spoken prayer. And my heart swells for this man at their utterance.

“I love you too, Josh!” In an instant, his arms are wrapped around me and we are holding each other so tightly. As if we’re both a little afraid of letting go. I’m not sure how long we stand this way, but it feels so good just to be in his arms and to finally hear those words from him. The sentiment isn’t new. I already know how he feels. But actually hearing him say the words means so much.

His arm wrapped snugly around my waist, we finally make our way back to the bedroom and he stands somewhat awkwardly for a moment, as if he’s not sure what to do next. I step out of my shoes and relish the feeling of freedom.
Why do I love high heels so much?
We are quiet as we undress. Too quiet, and I sense that he’s feeling very unsure – of himself and of us. He looks deep in thought as he puts his gun on his bedside table and pulls off his dress shirt. He discards it on the chair beside his chest of drawers and continues to undress, and his much too handsome face is marred with so much angst and worry.

Deciding that I need some sort of white noise to fill the awkward silence hovering in the air between us, I turn on the small digital radio that sits on the table by the bed and find a station playing soothing music. I adjust the volume really low, and then turn toward the closet.

I wonder what Josh is thinking as I get out of my dress and carefully place it back on the hanger and put it away in his closet. Then, I take off my strapless bra and panties and swipe Josh’s discarded shirt from the chair, putting it on and rolling up the sleeves as I head for the bathroom. By the time I make it back to the bedroom, Josh is sitting up in the bed, waiting for me, and he’s still wearing that deeply troubled frown.
Oh, Josh, don’t worry. We’re going to be okay.

Slipping into bed beside him, I lay back against the pillows and I am taken aback as he immediately moves toward me, laying his head on my chest as he wraps his arms securely around me. He curls up in my arms like a frightened little boy and I hold him tightly. We lay like this for several minutes just listening to the soft music and I begin to gently run my fingers through his wavy hair. And I remember how he held me this way for hours the night he caught that creep in my apartment, and how safe and loved I felt. Perhaps tonight I can repay him for that loving gesture. Hold him and make him feel as safe and loved as I felt that night.

“I learned something tonight.” His soft, deep voice punctures the silence in the dimly lit room.

“What’s that?” I ask quietly.

“I learned that we can argue,” he says softly, and he sounds surprised but, I don’t understand. “I can fight with you and not feel the urge to hit you.” I stop breathing momentarily because his words shock me. The fact that he associates a lover’s quarrel with violence and brutality is such a sad commentary on what he’s been through. His childhood breaks my heart.

“Oh, Josh,” I whisper, feeling the lump in my throat.

“I am not Danny Pierce,” he whispers harshly.

“No, you’re not,” I confirm. “You are nothing like him!”

His arms tighten around me once more and I hold him close to me as we both drift off to sleep.

Chapter Five

Joshua

When I wake up, I can hear soft music coming from somewhere. It takes me a moment to remember that we fell asleep with the radio on. My face is nestled between Samantha’s breasts and she’s cradling my head in her hands. Her nose is buried in my hair and her legs are wrapped around my waist as she sleeps. It is an intimate embrace and I feel nurtured and safe in her arms. Exactly what I need right now. I tighten my arms around her as the memories of last night come flooding back to me and I feel a wave of something wash over me. What is that … guilt? Shame? Self-loathing?

I try to breathe through the nausea and I inhale deeply the scent of Samantha’s skin. I love that smell. So sweet and delicate; it instantly soothes me. She is so amazing. After everything I told her last night about … what I’ve done. About my part in Danny Pierce’s death. She is still here. She didn’t leave. And she still says that she loves me! I shake my head slightly as I try to wrap my mind around it. And I kiss her lightly between her breasts, inhaling deeply once more. She stirs and I look up at her beautiful face as her eyes slowly flutter open. She blinks and smiles sleepily at me. “Good morning, Joshua,” she whispers, running a hand through my hair.