Someone to Watch Over Me (9 page)

“You love my warped brain.”

Love was a big word to define
anything in our ‘relationship’ at this point. I wondered if that’s
what this was—a relationship. How loosely did he use the term? I
didn’t want to think about it too hard. I clung to the latter of
his suggestion and decided to take it one day at a time.

“What was it like?”
Tate asked curiously.

“What was what like?”

“Pregnancy. Birth. It’s sort of
a miracle, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess it sort of is.”
I mustn’t have sounded very convincing because he turned his head
to steal a glance.

“You don’t think so?”

“I do.” I lifted my shoulder in
a half shrug, and turned to stare out the window. “But honestly, I
didn’t get to enjoy it. Don’t get me wrong. I love Levy, but I
wasn’t in a good place at the time.”

“There I go again, asking
questions. Making you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine.” I forced a
smile
. It was
weak and watered down by
the subject. “I came to terms long ago. Besides, you’re not the
first one to ask questions.”

“So what was it like?”

“The
ugly
truth or a roundabout answer?”

“Whatever you feel comfortable
sharing. We’re out to have fun today. I don’t want to spoil it with
my avid curiosity.”

“Oh, it’s in me. It lingers in
my soul like a little black stain. I think once that kind of
darkness touches a person it stays with them forever. Whether you
ask questions or not, there isn’t a day it doesn’t cross my mind.”
Tate stole another glance in my direction. The mischievous glint
was gone from his eyes. “I’m not broken. I know that’s what you’re
thinking.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just…that was
profound. And you’re so blasé about it. I wonder… Christ, I wonder
how did this happen to you, how did he get you under his thumb when
you’re so damn strong?”

“Do you really want to know all
this? Do you want to go there?”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

I didn’t want him to look at me
differently. I couldn’t take that. But the question would always
remain at the back of his mind. He would look at me differently
in any case
. And if he was going to walk,
I’d rather have him walk now before I grew too attached. It was
obvious he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d invited himself to stay
another night. Whatever that meant.

I tried not to
dwell on
it.

“Where to start… Gosh, I don’t
know. I was young
, n
ot that I’m old now.”
I
snorted
to myself. I
felt
old.
“But I was eighteen
, f
resh out of high
school. I moved entirely across the country. I was adventurous, you
know?
I
wanted to
travel
the world. But it wasn’t as easy as I
thought. I knew no one there. I had no friends. And this great guy
approached me during lunch one day
, a
sked
if he could share my table. Naturally, I said yes. He was good
looking
, c
ourteous
,
s
weet.
He s
wept me off my feet.
Before long, friends, a social life, even class eventually seemed
unimportant. He eclipsed everything else in my life.

“I suppose that was a
sign
, b
ut I was in love. You know what
they say
—l
ove makes us blind. So I
disregarded his jealousy
, t
he insults and
accusations
, t
he bruises. They started
off small
, f
ingertips where he would
squeeze my arm too hard. Slowly, they progressed
, b
ecame intentional, punishing
,
controlling in manner
,
but
I stayed. I enabled him, accepting his excuses and his
apologies. Like I said, he was manipulative. It was always my
fault.

“We’d fight
,
really
fight
, and
trust me, I used my lungs.
Things would escalate. Then one day he just snapped
, s
lapped me so hard it brought tears to my eyes.
That fast the fight was over. He apologized
,
b
egged
, p
leaded
, cried actual
tears. He was good that way.
He made
it believable. He was
manipulative, and good at it. Somehow, he always twisted my words
and turned them back on me. Naturally, I had blamed myself. I
yelled too loud
,
I was making a
scene
, being
irrational
, people
were staring. At the time, his excuses
seemed valid.

“I didn’t answer his text
quickly enough. I missed a phone call. I was late coming out of
class. I took too long to walk to his dorm. I was dressed too
seductive
ly
. I looked at another guy too
long. Things like that. I’ve heard it all. Nothing could convince
him that I loved him. I was cheating on him. I was a terrible
girlfriend. I didn’t deserve him.

“Anyhow,
one
morning
I was
sick
and I couldn’t
make it to the phone. Grant came to my dorm, checking on me. We
went through the normal routine. The questions. The accusations.
Why didn’t I answer the phone or his texts? Why wasn’t I in class?
Why was I in bed so late? Who else was in the room? Was I fu—” I
glanced at Levy in the back seat
,
“—sleeping with someone else? We’d been through it a million
times.

“Only this time,
someone
had called and complained. So this guy,
Adam, he was a residential advisor. He came up to intervene. Of
course, Grant took his intervention as an admission of guilt. We
must’ve been having an affair for this guy to stand up for me.
Well, Grant lost it. Beat the
heck
out of
this guy. And when I tried to stop him, he beat the
heck
out of me too. Adam and I ended up in the
hospital and Grant ended up in jail.

“It would be nice if things
ended there, but obviously that’s not what happened. I couldn’t go
home until after the surgery. In the meantime, Grant got out of
jail. He came straight to the hospital. Walked right in the front
door with a great big vase full of flowers, sweet-talked all the
nurses, who promptly escorted him to my room. Needless to say, once
I realized what he was capable of, I knew I had to get away from
him, so I nearly
had a stroke
when I woke
to find him sitting at the foot of my bed. I don’t know what he
would’ve done, but the nurse came in, complaining about my heart
monitor and he slipped out without a word.

“I think that’s almost worse,
the silent threats. That’s his method now
,
has
been the past two and a half years. He texts mostly, but
occasionally he’ll show up. I think he likes to keep me on my toes.
Still, he doesn’t say anything. He’ll sit in his car until
I call the police
.

“So, no, I didn’t get to enjoy
the miracle of pregnancy,” I explained, wrapping up my
tale
. “I thought it was a curse. God hated me. I
must’ve done something wrong in a past life to deserve carrying
Grant’s child. It was awful. Lord, was I sick. All the time. Day or
night. And the birth, everything that could’ve gone wrong, did. He
was upside down
and then
—
”

“What do you mean he was upside down, like
feet first?”

“
No,
posterior. Face up.
See
,
babies
are face down when they come out so that their neck and back can
bend when they navigate the birth canal. But Levy was facing up.
Some women can still deliver that way, but Levy
just lodged himself in place.
So they pushed him back
up
—”

“Jesus Christ.”

I laughed at
Tate’s
expression
, the way he
squirmed in the seat
. “It’s fine. I can laugh now. Trust me,
I
didn’t
at the time. But they pushed him
back up—
what little he came down—
and
turned him around. Then as luck would have it, the cord wrapped
around his neck.
His vitals went all out of
whack.
So after twenty hours of labor, I had to have a
cesarean section.
”

“But it’s obvious you love him now.”

“
I loved him
then,” I clarified. “Abortion was never an option. I went to all my
doctor appointments. I worried about his health. I tried to eat
right, what I could keep down. And there were times when he would
be so still, I’d give my stomach a nudge so that he would move
because I thought something was wrong with him. I didn’t see it at
the time, or realize what I was feeling. Like I said, I wasn’t in a
good place. I was somewhat numb to everything. But everything
changed when his birth went downhill. When his vitals deteriorated,
it was as if some maternal switch was thrown. When they started
prepping me for surgery, I had no doubt that I loved him. I
would’ve let them cut me open, drugs or not, just to get him out
safely.”

Tate
soaked
this all in
, sinking into the seat and staring out at the
road. For a few long minutes, he brooded silently. When I
was sure
he was having second thoughts
about whatever this was we were doing
,
his eyes flickered in my direction. “Christ. That’s one hell of a
story.”

“Story of my life.”
Placing my hands on my knees, I stretched my back. “But
back to your question. I was different then. A person doesn’t
survive an ordeal like that and remain unaffected. I’d like to
think that I’ve grown from it, that I’m stronger now. Besides,
refusing to talk about it is like sticking my head in the sand and
hoping it’ll all go away. It happened, is still happening. It would
only make me more of a victim than I already am.”

I received a
sideways glance.
“You’ve talked to a
lawyer? There’re laws against stalking.”

“
The
restraining order,” I reminded him.

“
But he’s
still harassing you,” he pointed out, not getting it. “The police
don’t do anything? Why isn’t he in jail?”

“
The
restraining order is a joke. It aggravates the offender and
escalates the situation. Sixty eight percent of victims are
attacked by their stalkers after filing a restraining order. It’s
like hiding behind a straw house and sticking your tongue out at
them. The worst part is, they mislead women with a false sense of
security, as if we have a twenty-four hour bodyguard at our
disposal, but it’s all pomp and circumstance. It’s more for the
lawyers and the police. It doesn’t really protect us at
all.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“
I
agree, but it’s all the law offers, so I do what
I can to keep Levy safe, and that means staying low key, remaining
a step ahead of him, moving as often as needed.”

“
That’s
bullshit,” he repeated. To which I didn’t respond. He
was venting on my behalf. I didn’t need to say
anything. My story was told. I just wondered whether it would sway
his decision to leave or stay.

“
I feel like
I should share something with you,” Tate spoke up a few minutes
later.

“
You
really don’t have to do that.”

“Well, you told me your
traumatizing experience, I
’d
like to
tell one too. It’s only fair.
It’ll be like a bonding activity.
”

“
Really,
Tate, you don’t need to do that.
”

“
It’s
ok
, I can laugh about it now, too. But I didn’t at the time.
See, when I was growing up, when my parents were still together,
things were good then, you know? And they were having an addition
built onto the house. Well, one day, though they told me a million
times to stay out of that
part
of the
house, I didn’t listen. I snuck through the tarps, Carter and I,
actually. We were just checking everything out
,
exploring and stuff. Well, then my parents came
home. We took off hell for leather. My
father
wasn’t the kind of person you
cross
ed
. Anyway, Carter, well, you know
Carter. He can be a real
jerk
. He pushed
me
, not
hard. I didn’t fall, because I’m
like a cat. I have ninja
-
like reflexes.
Still, my foot slid across the plywood. The problem was I didn’t
have shoes on, and I got this great big grand daddy of a splinter
in my heel.”

I waited patiently for the rest
of the story, but when he didn’t continue, I realized he was making
light of the situation, trying to lighten the mood. And God, did I
love him for that.

“A splinter? Really? God. You
had me going there for a minute.”

“Hey, it was traumatizing! It
was like that long!” He held his finger and thumb about an inch
apart then reduced it by half. I burst out laughing. “My dad
pinned
me
down
while my mom dug it out with a pair of tweezers and a scalpel.”

“I bet.”

“Seriously, to this day I
can’t…” He shook his head, pinching his eyes shut with mock horror.
“No, it’s too embarrassing. I can’t say it.”

“What?” I asked, because he
obviously expected it of me.

“I have to be on top during
sex. I still have this deep seated fear of being held down.”

While I laughed, holding my
stomach, Levy decided to join in, giggling his little belly laugh,
despite having no idea what
he was laughing
at
. He was all tiny teeth and squinted eyes.

Tate pulled to the side of the
road and shifted the car into park. Turning in his seat, he shook
his head at Levy and me. “Laugh it up, go ahead, turtle boy. Your
day will come. Then you, too, will be the object of unmitigated
humiliation.”