Freed (Steel Brothers Saga 18)

And I walk.

I walk away.

Away from the man I love.

Chapter Thirteen

Dale

I can’t let myself feel anything. Just like last night, when I saw my vines.

I’m a master at swallowing up emotion. Swallowing up pain.

She’s gone. I knew there was no future. Not with someone as wonderful as Ashley White. She’s all light where I’m all dark.

She deserves sunshine and puppies and rainbows.

All I offer is darkness.

I walk back to my bedroom and into the master bath.

My reflection startles me.

I knew I was dirty, but even I wasn’t prepared for what I see.

I look like a caveman, my hair a mass of knots. Even a small twig is tangled in some of my strands. My face is ruddy, my lips chapped. My eyes bloodshot and heavy-lidded. Streaks of black ash cover my cheeks, and my hands are disgusting.

This is what I forced upon Ashley last night.

She didn’t hesitate to take me as I was.

She didn’t say no.

She didn’t stop me.

She let me do what I needed to. Kiss her, bite her nipples, slap her ass.

Fuck her hard and fuck her fast.

She gave me what I yearned for.

Yes, I gave her a dozen orgasms, but I did that for me as well.

It was all about me last night.

Self-absorption. The word she used to describe me this morning.

She was right to yell at me for the comment about the Pikes. To walk out. I’m being self-absorbed. I’ve always been self-absorbed, unwilling to share my pain with people who want to help me bear the burden of it.

Never.

Never will I share my pain with Ashley.

Never will I taint her with the demons that lurk inside me.

Never.

I turn on the shower, even now resistant to cleaning my body. Right now, physically, I resemble myself on the inside. A mess. Dirty. Smelly. Dark and tainted.

If I don’t shower, the world will see me as I truly am.

Perhaps it’s time.

Still, though, I shed my jeans and step into the shower. I turn the steam faucet and drop a few drips of peppermint essential oil onto the shower floor.

I’m congested from breathing smoke. My throat is parched and aching.

I stand under one of the dual showerheads, letting the nearly scalding water rain on my head. I close my eyes. Inhale. The steam is rising. Soon it will fill the shower, and the brisk peppermint will help clear my sinuses.

Soon.

But even now I resist.

Part of me wants to stay dirty. Stay unclean.

Stay…

The water from the showers is lukewarm, but at least it’s water. Donny and I stand naked with several other boys, some younger and some older than we are.

I grab my little brother’s hand and pull him away from the gazes of the others. I shield him with my body as we stand under the light water pressure. We’re dirty. We stink. The acrid smell of body odor and shit surrounds us, the water bringing it out more at first.

I hold my breath. Still, I feel the nausea creeping up my throat.

“I’m going to be sick, Dale,” Donny says.

“Swallow,” I tell him. “Swallow it down. Swallow it all down.”

He gulps loudly. “It’s not working.” Then he heaves. But nothing comes out of him. His little stomach is empty.

Dry heaves. They hurt. I know because last winter I had a bad stomach bug, and I couldn’t keep anything down. Still, I heaved, my stomach cramping worse each time.

“Easy,” I say to him. “Swallow it back. You can do it, Donny.”

He tries, contorting his little face, but he ultimately fails and heaves again.

Another boy vomits all over the shower floor.

I hold back my own puke. I have to be strong for Donny.

There’s no soap. Just the lukewarm water to wash the stink from our bodies.

About five minutes later, the water stops.

“Get out, all of you,” a masked man says.

They all wear masks. Black ski masks.

I’ve never been skiing. I always wanted to learn, but Mom never took us. Never had the time or the money. “Skiing is too expensive,” she always said.

The men give us each a tattered towel to dry off and then a gray T-shirt.

“Where’s our pants?” one small child asks.

“You don’t need pants anymore, shithead,” a masked man says.

Donny opens his mouth, but I gesture him not to say anything.

I already know what he was going to say.

Why don’t we need pants?

I know the answer, and I’m sick just thinking about it.

I’ll give my little brother a few more minutes of childhood before he discovers the answer to the question himself.

Chapter Fourteen

Ashley

I walk in the back door to the main house. Darla is in the kitchen making lunch.

“Miss Ashley, will you be joining us for—” She gasps, taking a good look at me. “My goodness! Are you all right?”

I nod. If I try to say anything, the tears will come back. I did the best I could to gulp them down before entering.