Forbidden Love

“Who knew bumper cars would turn you into a possessed Daytona driver.”

I laughed and hit him on the chest with my fists. “Hey, I can’t help it if you were in the way.”

“You T-boned me!”

“Only because you were in the way.” I grinned and wrapped my arms around his waist.

“I did lie about one thing,” he said.

“Oh?”

“Grand Central Terminal, I’d been there before. Actually, loads of times.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’d never been there with you.”

“Oh.”

“Before moving to Manhattan permanently, I'd take the train from Boston to Manhattan every morning and evening, but I barely looked up at the beautiful ceiling. I never had time. Always rushing to appointments or getting back in time to be with Evelyn for one of her many operations.”

I held my hand up to his face. “That must have been a hard time,” I said, wanting him to open up to me. There was more to his childhood than the abuse. I was sure of it.

“It was. It still is, if I’m honest. That’s why I haven’t told you everything. My past is buried. It’s just too painful.”

“Maybe you should talk about it. It might help you, Barrett.”

He hadn't said no, and ten minutes later, we were back in his apartment where he was sweating bullets. His control and confidence had vanished and was replaced by a shadow of a man I wanted to hold and protect from whatever demons he was facing.

“Barrett, I understand if it’s too hard to talk about. I’m sorry, I shouldn't have pushed you.”

His hand slid out of my grasp, and he paced the floors of his living room.

“It is, but I have to tell you. I love you, Lourde, and that means no secrets.”

I swallowed down the lump in my throat.

“I’m a monster.” He stopped and searched my face, waiting for a reaction.

Tempted to correct him, I did nothing but choose to remain silent so he could continue.

“My parents didn’t die in a car accident like I told you and your family.”

Oh, God. Did he murder them? What the hell, Lourde, as if?

“O-okay.” I breathed out on a stutter.

“Ever since I could remember, I grew up in an abusive household where my father took pleasure in hitting us. You know that part but what you don't know is he forced himself on my mother many times. I can still hear her screams in my nightmares.”

“Oh Barrett…”

“Let me finish. Otherwise, I don’t think I can get this out.”

I nodded.

“I’m scared I’ll lose you if I don’t tell you everything, but I’m terrified you may never look at me the same again, Lourde.”

“Barrett, I love you. Nothing can come between that.” Nerves crawled up my back and spine, settling in my chest.

He stared at me, fear clouding his eyes.

“That fateful day, I’d had enough. I knew where Dad stashed his Smith and Wesson revolver, and while he beat Mom and my sister in the kitchen, I escaped, running to get it. I wanted to kill him, Lourde. I wanted him to die for what he’d done to Mom and my sister.”

“Barrett.” I gasped.

“The monster took a cup of boiling water and threw it on her just because he could.”

“Oh, my God. If he did that to her, what did he do to you?” I croaked out in a weak whisper.

“Whatever you can imagine.”

I got up and walked over to him, but he took a step back.

“I was his punching bag, Lourde, his ashtray, a mistake from a rape encounter with Mom resulting in a pregnancy. It was Mom who fought to keep me when he wanted me aborted.”

The backs of my eyes pricked with tears.

“I returned with the gun and wanted to pull the trigger but couldn’t. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t take a life.” He shook his head. “The next thing I knew, he was on me wrestling me to the ground.”

He looked away, bringing his hand to his forehead, his green eyes, pools of agony.

“During the struggle, the gun went off, hitting my sister in the leg and causing permanent nerve damage.”

“The operations…”

“Yes, many surgeries to try and repair the damage. Again, I tried to wrestle the gun, but he was too strong. As I watched my sister fall in agony, the gun went off again. This time, hitting my mom square in the chest.”

“No,” I whispered as tears flowed down my cheek.

I walked over to him, taking his hand in my own and forcing him to look at me.

“Barrett, this is not your fault.”

“I held the gun, Lourde. If it weren’t for me, that gun would never have been there in the first place.”

“You can’t say that. You were only trying to protect your mom and Evelyn.”

“Instead, I turned out to be the monster who killed my own sweet mother.”

“No, Barrett. Your father killed her. You were just a kid.”