Losers: Part II

As I closed the door behind me, the others’ laughter and conversation were muffled. It was late in the evening, still a few hours before sunset. But the light was dim beneath the trees and full of shadows.

The wood pile was heaped up beside an old shed full of gardening tools. Cobwebs were strewn all over it, so I took a cautious look for spiders with every log I picked up.

Today was perfect. All my people were together and happy. Jess was smiling so big, I knew she was enjoying her time here. Her time with us.

It made me never want to leave. All my life, I’d wanted to run away, and although I was no longer trapped in the same ways I had been as a kid, I still got that same urge to disappear. To take my people and go, hide us all away somewhere where no one and nothing could touch us.

My therapist said it was part of my need for control, because control made me feel safe. I could acknowledge these things; I could understand how certain feelings and urges extended from trauma. But even understanding didn’t give me the control I needed.

Control over myself. Over my brain, my fear, my doubts.

I wanted to live in the moment, this moment. Yet I couldn’t. I was incapable. Instead of treasuring what was right in front of me, I was too distracted by the inevitability of its end.

Jess’s new engine would be delivered within days of us arriving back home. Once we’d fixed her car, our agreement for her “debt repayment” would technically be at an end. Paying us with sex, with time, with company…that would end. It was supposed to. The only reason she agreed was because there was no permanence to it. She could experiment with no expectations.

Leaning one arm against the side of the shed, I closed my eyes for a moment. It couldn’t be that simple. These past few weeks, I’d seen Jess grow happier, freer. I’d watched her embrace being who she wanted to be. The thought that all that could change, that it could simply vanish…

Fuck that. I’d tell her the truth: I wanted her to stay with us so badly it felt like it would rip me apart. It would probably scare her off. I’d sound obsessed. I’d sound sick. But it was too damn late in the game to worry about that.

I had to tell her how I felt. How I’d felt for so damn long.

A twig snapped behind me, and I flinched, abruptly turning around. My heart sped up, a sickening feeling of adrenaline flooding my veins. The light was dim, and I’d taken my contacts out already, so distant shapes were blurred.

The forest wasn’t a quiet place. It could have been an animal or the wind. But my heart wouldn’t stop pounding. My hands were sweating.

Snap.

This time, I was ready. My hand snapped to my back pocket as I dropped the wood, my blade out and ready in the second it took me to turn toward the sound.

“Woah, man!” Vincent put his hands, taking a few hurried steps back. He hadn’t been very close, thank God, but still.

“Shit.” My hand was shaking as I hurriedly put the knife away. “I’m so sorry, Vince…fuck…” That had been too close. Far too close. Brandishing a weapon in one of my best friend’s faces because I couldn’t get it the fuck together. “I didn’t hear you come out. I…You scared me.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” He caught my arm as I tried to turn away, and I winced as I looked at him. “Are you okay? You look pale and sweaty. Like a dead fish.”

“Gee, thanks.” I sighed heavily as I leaned against the woodpile, and he leaned beside me, spiders be damned. “I was just spooking myself. Jumping at shadows.”

He nodded, and I appreciated his silence. Vincent had never been pushy. It made it easier to talk when I didn’t feel obligated to do so.

“I haven’t felt right,” I said, staring off into the trees. “Not since I saw him.”

“Your dad,” he said. He didn’t need to ask.

“It’s like part of me went into hiding that day,” I said. “The good part. The happy part. I can’t…I can’t figure out how to snap out of it. It’s like cold pressure filling my chest.” I looked down at my hands, flexing my tingling fingers. “I feel disconnected. From my body, from my brain. Like I’m falling apart.”

I was glad the others were still inside. I didn’t want them to hear this. It was important to be honest, it was crucial. But they didn’t need my struggles put on them. We’d come up here to relax and unwind. The last thing I wanted to do was dump all my fears on their laps and demand they deal with it too.

They wouldn’t look at it that way. They’d want to help, but I really didn’t think they could. All the comforting words in the world wouldn’t convince my sick brain to stop being sick. It didn’t work like that.

“I get it,” Vincent said. “You’ve barely given yourself time to process it. No wonder you’re struggling.”

I frowned, looking back at him. “What do you mean?”

“Dude, your abusive father burst back into your life like the goddamn Kool-Aid man, and you dusted yourself off and kept going like it was nothing. This is the first time you’ve taken more than a day away from work in…shit, I don’t even know how long. You’re burning yourself into the fucking ground.”

Damn. He was right, but my first instinct was to tell him he was wrong. I could handle myself, and if I couldn’t, then I needed to figure it the fuck out and get my head on straight.

“Well, I can’t exactly afford downtime,” I said.

“You know our savings are fine. We have enough money set aside —”

“It’s not about money.” I shook my head. “With my dad poking his nose around, Alex causing trouble, a town full of assholes looking for an excuse to villainize us…that shit doesn’t just stop and wait for me to get it together. I can’t afford to not be okay, Vince. I need make sure we are okay. I have a business to run, a goddamn house to sell —”

“And you’ve got a family who has your back for all that shit,” he said gently. “Seriously, believe it or not, you don’t have to do it all. We’re big boys, you know? We can handle things too.”

“I know you can. But I should be able to do it. The fact that I can’t…” It made me sick I couldn’t. Made me feel like a failure.

“You’re so mean to yourself, Manson.” He chuckled, softening the sting of his words. “You’re a human being, not a god. Regardless of what Jess tells you in the bedroom.” That got me to laugh, releasing a little of my tension. “Tomorrow, I want you to relax, man. Let me be the boss for a day. I promise I won’t manage to burn the cabin down.”

“You know it’s not about me not trusting you,” I said. “It’s my brain. I can’t turn it off.”

“That’s what restraints are for,” he said, waggling his eyebrows cartoonishly. “You can’t be the boss if you’re tied up.”

It had been a long time since I’d let Vincent tie me. Restraints were hard for me to tolerate, but when he’d first learned how to work with rope bondage, I’d let him practice on me a few times. It actually was soothing, once I moved past the sickening terror of barely being able to move.

Entrusting myself to someone else’s control was one of the hardest things I’d ever needed to do. It made my hands shake again thinking about it. But I needed the release, the safety, the intimacy of letting go and trusting.

“No pressure,” he said. “I’m only offering, if you think it would help. It might snap you out of that dark headspace.” He paused, watching the side of my face. “I want to help you, Manson. I hate seeing you like this.”

For all the bad luck in my life, my fortune was blessed when it came to my friends.

“All right, all right,” I finally said. “You can take the lead. I’ll try to chill tomorrow.”

“You’ll try.” He rolled his eyes, and held up his hands as if he was framing a shot for a movie. “Just picture this: you, like a bound Greek god, naked and glistening. Jess, the innocent mortal who’s stumbled into your realm — guided by me, of course.”

“I’m imagining you as a tall Satyr for this fantasy,” I said. “Also, why am I glistening?”

“Excellent. Just call me Pan. And the glistening is for effect. Girls love things that glisten. We got some cooking oil in the pantry and I can drive into town to grab some craft glitter — Ah, well, to judge by your expression, I’m guessing it’s a no to glitter?”

“If you tie me up and pour cooking oil on me, I swear to God…”

We collected the wood I’d dropped and headed back inside. Jess was snuggled up between Lucas and Jason as they waited for us. Somehow, she’d convinced Lucas to tell her the story of how he’d ended up with that piercing through his dick.

“Then this motherfucker tells me I’m too scared to do it,” he said, giving Jason a playful kick. “So I went and got it done that same day. I wasn’t going to have some church boy calling me scared.”

Jason laughed, as Vincent and I got the fireplace lit. “Church boy? There’s some fucking nostalgia. Haven’t heard that name in a while. And you were scared as shit, don’t lie.”

Lucas scoffed. “As if you wouldn’t be. Let me down there with a needle, then we’ll see who’s scared.”

Vincent lit up another joint and passed it around once we settled down. We crowded together onto the bed, and as everyone got comfortable, Jess crawled onto my lap.

She brought her lips close to my ear, gently kissing my neck.

“Are you okay?” she said, her voice low, just loud enough for me to hear.

“Of course.” I smiled, leaning back so she could rest her head against my shoulder. “What made you think I wasn’t?”

“I know you,” she said. She said it so casually, so easily, she couldn’t possibly know the impact those words would have. They cracked my chest open, breaking straight through the cold shuddering pressure that suffocated me day and night. She reached through the cracks she’d created, let herself in, and brought all her warmth with her.

Wrapping my arms around her, I kissed her forehead and said, “I’ll be fine, angel. I’ve got the best people making sure of it.”