Mr. Beautiful (Up in the Air 4)

My eyes were dry.  "I woke up in his work shed, in the backyard.  He'd tied me to a chair and tied the chair to a wooden beam.  I couldn't budge it.  Couldn't move my arms or my legs.

"There was just one dim light in the shed, but I could see him when I woke up.  He was just sitting there staring at me, hate in his eyes.  Disgust.  So much disgust.  Like I was everything he hated and feared in life, sharing air with him, his own flesh and blood.

"God, he hated me.  I swear, to this day, I can taste that hate, chew on it until bile rises up in my throat to gag me.  It was what he felt for me, but it was so strong, I think he projected some of it into me.  It's hard to have your own father feel that way toward you and not feel some of it yourself.  Not hate yourself at least a little."

I took a few deep breaths, trying to ignore the awful noises Javier was making on my behalf.  "Did I tell you my dad was an electrician?" I asked him.

He was sobbing nearly too hard to answer, but I finally made out a sobbing, "No."

"Well, he was.  Not a very good one, I don't think.  Or at least, not good at making a living out of it.  His brother often had to help him pay his bills.  But he was good enough, I guess, to rig up this thing.  This grid looking contraption.  He had it all set up in the shed, hooked up to my temples, and," I waved at my torso, "some stuff stuck to my chest."

"Oh, God," he gasped in horror.

My mouth twisted unhappily.  "His own homemade version of electroshock therapy, I guess.  You see, he knew before I'd told him.  He'd been doing some research, heard you could cure a person with the right brand of pain.  Well, okay, I know that's not the science behind it, but that's how it felt at the time.  What he did just felt like torture.  My dad was no scientist."

"It was torture," Javier sobbed.  "He tortured you."  He said it like he couldn't believe, like it was too horrible to actually have happened to someone he knew.  Someone he cared about.

Story of my life.  Not many people could relate to the things I'd been through.

"Yeah, well, he called it curing me.  It didn't work, obviously.  I don't think even he believed that it would.  I've since read up on it, and he wasn't even trying to use the usual methods.  He just shocked me, over and over, and said awful things to me.  He did it until I passed out again."

"I don't know who untied me, but when I woke up I was laying on the floor.  I went inside the house, packed a bag.  My dad tried to keep me from leaving.  We fought again as I walked out the front door, but he finally got fed up and told me to leave and never come back.  I left.  I was on my own after that.  A homeless runaway.  Alone, until I met Bianca."

"I'm so sorry," Javier said, burrowing into me like he wanted us to merge.  "I'm so sorry.  I never should have pressured you.  I didn't know.  I didn't know."

I held him to me, let him comfort me, comforted him.

It was some time later when I spoke again.  "The good news is, coming out this time has got to go better than the first time."

He didn't find that very funny.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

MY PRIVILEGE

PRESENT

JAMES

I woke with a violent start.

A desperate sort of anxiety had a very firm hold of me.  I tamped it down as much as I could, but it simmered, always, just beneath the surface.

I was alone in bed, when I shouldn't have been.

I had the foresight to throw on some loose athletic shorts before I headed into the courtyard.  There were no security personnel inside the house at night, but there were several on the property, keeping a close eye on the grounds at all hours.

I stormed to the closest guard station, but a dressed down Clark met me before I reached it.  He lived in a large guesthouse situated near the back of the estate.  It was his home, but it also held the largest guard post on the property.  I caught a glimpse of someone behind him whose presence and state of undress surprised me, but I made a point not to stare.

"She's with him," he said shortly.

I nodded, and taking a deep, steadying breath, I turned on my heel and changed directions.

I only knocked once on the door before Javier opened it.

"She's fine," he told me instantly.  "They're both fine.  I was just about to call you."

"Where?" I asked, still agitated from waking up alone and to a panic that I doubted would ever leave me completely.

"Our bedroom."

I moved past him, headed there.

It didn't even occur to me to ask permission.

Where Bianca was I had a right to be.  This was the order of the universe.

Calm, the first I'd felt of it since waking up alone, filled me at the sight I found in their bedroom.

We found them curled together in a heap, Bianca burrowed into Stephan's na**d chest, his face buried in her soft hair.

They were beautiful together like that.  It made my gut wrench to see it.

What was one's normal reaction to finding the love of your life in bed with another man?  Well, I had no trouble picturing what it would have been, if that other man had been anyone else.  But Stephan was, of course, the exception to all rules and boundaries.

"It's what we signed on for," Javier said quietly, eyes glued to them.  "They're a package deal.  There's no way we can claim we didn't have fair warning.  And I'm not sad about it."