Read True Control 4.2 Online

Authors: Willow Madison

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Bdsm, #Romantic Erotica

True Control 4.2 (8 page)

BOOK: True Control 4.2
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Chapter 22 HER

I haven’t had the strength for what I’ve done today. Being numb helped. But I don’t know where I found the strength to stop crying after each person came in. PJ and Cathy. Laura. Jeff. Dan and Mike. Jake stayed in my room, never leaving my side. That helped. Ron has taken care of everything. That helped.

He told me the driver is in critical condition with head trauma. I don’t even remember his name. Max only said that Jeff was going to keep an eye on me for him from now on…none of that matters now. I know Ron assured the family that all the bills will be paid and he’ll have the best care. Jeff told me. I know Max would want that…

I don’t know how I’ve been able to think his name without choking on my tears, but being numb has helped. I haven’t been able to say it out loud without a searing pain, a spreading pain that tingles my fingertips, tries to push away the numbness. I am greedy for the numbness. I hold on tight.

I try not to say his name.

The doctor says I can go home. This shakes my hold on the numbness. I can’t go home. He isn’t there. I can’t.

Jake sees my panic. “Shhh…your brother and his wife want you to go with them tonight…so they can take care of you…ok?” I nod. I’d sleep anywhere except alone in our bed. I lose it again. I roll away from everyone watching and cry softly again. Jake’s hand stays on my shoulder. A reminder that I’m still here. Still in this nightmare. But I’m not alone.

Chapter 23 HER

The mind is a strange map. Mountains of memories forged and forgotten, fields of feelings formed and processed, rivers of functions automatic and learned. All connected. All divided. All equal. All nothing in comparison to the next.

I wake with the memory of pancakes on Sundays. That smell and sound of childish laughter mix and I’m taken back to the last day of summer before I had to start first grade. Mom yelling that breakfast is ready. PJ home for the weekend from college, rubbing my sleep-hair head and racing me down the stairs.

It’s only a second, but for that second I forgot. Max is gone. I’m lost. All I am now are memories.

I hear the sound of PJ racing Priscilla and Cassie down their stairs. I pull myself up from Cilli’s little bed. I have to pee. Damn this body and its need to function.

I quietly leave the bedroom and close the bathroom door. The girls’ bathroom is bright pink, with lavender and ballerina’s and princesses. It’s sweet. And I can hardly see it through my tears again.

I don’t know what I’ll have to face today…Mom and Dad. Alex. I look at myself in the mirror. I take a deep breath and start to turn for the door.

I sit back down, hard. Funeral arrangements. Ron will take care of everything. I know he already is. But I’ll have to be there. I’ll have to face it. Alone.

I will have a hard time pretending Max is with me today…but I will try. My love, for you, I will try to be everything you expect of me. But I am weak and these tears are strong.

Chapter 24 HER

It was worse than I imagined. A sea of black. A churning, tossing, moving, arms pulling, lips kissing sea of black clothed mass. I lost sight of Max once. And I panicked, shoving a stranger out of the way. Jake pulled me to the side, so I could have a clearer view of the front of the room. He hasn’t left my side except to check on his Mom.

The casket is empty. His ashes are already in a small box. I’m not a fool. I don’t think Max’s here. In this room. But his picture is. At the front. Surrounded by flowers. The one thing I insisted on. No white flowers. No reminder of our wedding, only six short months ago. I breathe quickly to control my tears.
Blink
. It’s his voice I hear. His voice has been with me…getting me through the worst of it. I’m trying, Max.

But I need to see his face. To get through this…I need to
see
Max. I keep saying his name over and over in my head. A mantra, a prayer, a beginning to a wail I will let loose when I am alone again.

I look down at myself, at the simple black dress I’m wearing. Mom picked this out for me. She and Dad went to our apartment and packed a small bag for me. I’m staying at Ron’s and Alex’s tonight. It’s closer to the…to this place.  But I needed something black…to fit in with the sea of blackness.

I lift my head and push my shoulders back. Max wouldn’t like it if I lost control here. He would expect better of me. He’d want his wife to hold her head up.
Be strong
. To be gracious to the strangers surrounding me. Just like our wedding. Men and women I never met, all passing with whispered wishes for me.
You can do this, baby
.

I’m trying.

“Do you need to sit down?” Ron is at my side again. He’s taking turns with Jake. The strong Traeger men taking care of their own. I shake my head. I still have a wrap on my ribs and wrist, a few bandages on my arms, legs and face, but I don’t feel this pain. It’s shadowed by the tear in my heart.

I do however have to pee. I remember this from the book Max made me read. Early pregnancy. “Please excuse me.” I put my hand on my stomach and walk out the doors. I ignore the eyes all staring at me. Pity, curiosity, sympathy…I ignore all of it. I especially ignore the blatant appraisals. I frown at these stares. From men. Men I don’t know or barely know. It was the same as at our wedding…and I can’t think of that right now.

I smile at the nod I get from Jeff and his girlfriend, Anna. When he introduced me to her earlier, it was startling to see him with tears. I know he loved Max as more than an employer. He looked up to him, tried to be like him. He blames himself for not driving that day…but I’m glad he’s safe at least…

I almost hit Becca with the bathroom door. “I’m so sorry!” She stops and laughs, but stops herself quickly and grabs me in another hug. I hug her back, but quickly move into a stall. The human body is a machine. Like an ant, it can carry a load of emotions far heavier than its own weight, but it still has to stop for the stupid stuff.

When I come out to wash my hands, Becca and Stephie are still here, waiting for me.

Stephie breaks the silence, her bright, loud voice piercing in the small space. “You look great! I mean…you look like crap…but you’re holding up great, Luce! You really…I wish I could take you out drinking from here!” She’s awkward when she’s emotional. I’ve learned this about her. She usually acts brisk and offensive when she’s uncomfortable.

Becca pushes her with her hips and smiles at me, “I know everyone’s asked you this already…is there anything we can do? Anyway we can help?”

I smile too. It’s a small smile, but genuine. Max’s friends meant the world to him. He’d be happy to know that they’re here for me now. I grab one of their hands in each of mine. “I’ll let you know…for now, I’m just trying to hold it together, ya know?!” I let go and brush away a stray tear. I’ve tried not to cry today.

I turn and look at myself in the mirror. Max always told me how beautiful I am when I cry. He liked to make me cry when he punished me…or when he was feeling in a rough mood in bed. I almost moan out loud at this thought. I look down, embarrassed, in case Becca or Stephie saw my cheeks flush, my breathing speed up. I splash cool water on my face.

“Well, you’re doing great. Max would be proud of you,” Becca understands a little. I talked to her earlier today. Told her I was trying to live up to what Max would want from me. I smile again at her reflection.

We leave together and I walk over to Mom and Dad. They’ve been huddled with PJ, Cathy, and Laura. Dad and PJ put their arms around me. I’m getting used to hiding behind a curtain of a small smile and held breath. Don’t mind that shriveling, sniveling, sobbing girl behind the curtain…I am the Great and Powerful Widow who can grant any onlooker a graceful smile. How silly a mind can be in a time of tragedy. I picture myself green…I’d rather be riding away on a broomstick and torturing some small villagers than having to be here and going through this. I’d rather be home in Max’s arms for the rest of my life.

“Lucy?”

I turn and see Tracy, Rich, Catherine and Kevin walking towards me. My old friend, boss, and co-workers. I pause. Max wouldn’t like this. Wouldn’t like them here. But reality is a bitch. He’s not here.

I put my arms around Tracy and cry-laugh against her collar and red hair. I haven’t seen her in almost five months. Not since…well…since that horrible night Max punished me for letting Rich put his hand on me.

I don’t look at Rich though. I don’t touch him. I can’t do that. I won’t do that.

Jake is next to me. Out of nowhere. I hug Kevin and Catherine. Rich doesn’t move towards me, but puts his hand out and lets it drop when I don’t respond.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Jake’s voice is hard, low, deep. Max’s words, Max’s voice. I look up at him. Max’s look.

Rich blinks at Jake, then turns to me and gives a small smile, before turning again to Tracy. Laura told me that they’re seeing each other now. She broke up with Josh officially and is only dating Rich. Good for them. Jake’s right, they shouldn’t be here. Not here, not now.

I let Jake take my arm and pull me back towards my family. Laura smiles an apology and walks over to Tracy. I let Mom fuss over pushing my hair back. She tried to get me to pull my hair back into a braid today. But I need the curtain to hide behind. I don’t look up at Jake again. I just feel his tension next to me.

…..

I wake up in the middle of the night. This is a strange bedroom. Alex made the room nice, but I’m still scared for a moment. It takes some time to realize where I am. And why I’m here.

Nightmares fill my days and nights anymore.

I roll over again, pressing my hand to my stomach. Well, baby…just you and me now. I’m out of tears. Or in shock still.

What are the stages of grief? Is shock one of them? Should be if it’s not. I’m in shock by how much can change in a heartbeat.

It seems like only a heartbeat ago I was falling for Max. A heartbeat and I was forever changed by his views on relationships and me. A heartbeat and he slapped me for the first time. Beat…happily married. Beat...his brutal anger. Beat…back to happiness, hope, love. Beat…gone. I want to live in a heartbeat. The one with us, together, happy to be us, to have a baby. I want that beat back! It’s not fair!

I slam my fists against the bed. I give into a real tantrum. I scream almost silently into the pillows. I thrash and hit and scream until I’m exhausted of tears again. But I’ll never be without tears again.

I curl into a ball and hold my stomach.
It’s going to be ok, baby
. No, Max. It’ll never be okay ever again. I’ll never have your mouth, your body, your eyes on me again. I’ll never have your love to protect me again. To keep me and our child safe…even from yourself.

I know that’s why you said that you wouldn’t punish me. I deserved it. I deserved your anger. I should’ve been stronger. I know I trusted you, deep down…it’s the only way I was able to stay…after everything you did. All the ways you hurt me. I know you would never
really
have hurt me.

I know you loved me. And I know I’ll never be loved again. I’m lost and alone. I don’t know if I can do this, Max. If I can be a mom alone to your child…please…please come back to me!

I cry again…fool’s tears…and I fall asleep imagining Max next to me. I know it’ll hurt more when I wake up alone, but I don’t care. I’ll punish myself with my foolish dreams and wishes.

Chapter 25 HER

Jake opens the door for me. Was it only ten days ago that he was here with me? When Max was so angry and waiting for me?

I’ve avoided being here. I’ve stayed with PJ or Alex and Ron. I’ve not been able to face coming home to our empty apartment yet. But I know I have to.

Mom and Dad will be here soon. I take a deep breath and walk slowly in. Nothing’s the same.

I move quicker through the rooms into our bedroom. Everything’s cleaned and…

“What…where’s everything?!” I turn on Jake. He stays just outside the room, watching me. “Where is all of Max’s stuff?”

“I had a cleaning crew come in yesterday. They boxed everything up for you.”

“Why…I don’t want anything in boxes! Where are the boxes, Jake?! Tell them to bring me everything now here now!” I’m hysterically yelling, loud and shrill. I hurt my own ears.

He just stands there, watching me, no answer. I turn and move around the room again. Into the closet. A few things are still here. A few shirts. I grab one and pull it to my face. I can still breathe in his musky-linen smell. I sit on the floor of the closet, holding the shirt against me.

I don’t move, I don’t cry, I just sniff and hold. I hear Jake walk away.

I stay in here, in the relative darkness. I lay down on the carpet, just like the night Max kept me here, safe from his anger. I put his shirt on over my dress, wrapping myself in him.

…..

I must’ve closed my eyes and slept, because I didn’t hear my folks arrive. I didn’t hear Mom open the closet door more. I just feel her cool hand on my forehead, like when I was a kid with a cold. I let her pull me up and walk me out of the bedroom. But I wrap Max’s shirt around me more. I’m not taking it off. Ever again.

Jake is still here. He and Dad are talking quietly at the table. I glare at him. He had no right to take anything from here! “Where are the boxes, Jake?”

“There at the house. In Evanston. Nothing will happen to them, I promise. Everything’s safe and there when you’re ready to go through it.”

“I want them back. Now.” Mom tries to rub my arm, to soothe me. I shrug her hand off.

Jake only shakes his head, his look unreadable. “I left all the pictures, Lucy. I only had them take the things…the things I know won’t help you right now.” He looks at the shirt I’m wearing. “I’ll have to complain that they forget to check the laundry…”

I move quickly. I slap him. Hard. I try for as hard as Max ever slapped me. “Lucy!” Mom is grabbing my hand as I aim to slap him again. But Jake didn’t move. His head only moved a little at my feeble attempt to hurt him. 

I pull my hand away from Mom, but it’s Dad that stops me from yelling. His quiet, calm voice. “Lucy…you need to calm down, sweetheart. Jake did the right thing…I know it’s hard to see that right now. But,” he stands to hold me in his bear hug, “you’re better off not having to do that yourself…go through everything here yourself right now.” I shake with anger and grief in his arms.

I don’t want to hear any of this. I push him off me and turn quickly back to the bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I crawl in bed and am grateful that the sheets weren’t washed. I can still smell Max here too. I pull the covers over my head, wrapping myself around his pillow.

I’ve decided. I’m never getting out of this bed.

BOOK: True Control 4.2
9.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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