Page 47 of Tormenting Me

Wes chuckles. “You ready to go home, baby? I have dinner ready, but unfortunately I have some work to do still. So we’ll have dinner and then I’ve got to head back out.”

I nod, and Wes leads me out of the office. I grab my bag off the counter and we walk out. Locked up, I make my way over to the car, where Wes is waiting with the passenger door open. I get into the car, still feeling the rush of adrenaline from the encounter in the office. On the drive home, I try to calm myself down, reminding myself that I need to have an honest conversation with Wes about my feelings.

Once we arrive, Wes leads me inside and I can’t help but notice the effort he’s put into preparing dinner. Wes set the table with candles and our favorite dishes. We never eat at the table, it’s always on the bed or on the island. Despite his busy schedule, he always knows how to make me feel special. It makes me regret every single negative thought I had about him today.

As we sit down to eat, I can’t shake off the tension that lingers between us. I take a deep breath, gathering the courage to open up to him. “Wes, I need to talk to you about something important,” I say, my voice trembling slightly.

He looks at me with concern in his eyes. “Is this from this morning because you didn’t fool me? I knew you weren’t okay. Baby, if you don’t want to talk about something, then say so. We can always revisit it like we are right now. Please don’t lie to me and pretend to be fine when you clearly aren’t.” He replies, reaching out to hold my hand.

I take a moment to gather my thoughts before continuing. “I’ve been feeling overwhelmed lately, and it’s not because of you or anything you’ve done. It’s about my own fucked up shit in my head,” I explain, hoping he understands.

Wes listens attentively, his expression filled with sadness. “Show me all your scars, Layne.” he assures me, squeezing my hand gently.

“Why?” I ask, confused at his statement.

“I want to see and know of every single time you needed me and I wasn’t there. I’m here now, Ma Petite Mort. Let me help you heal.“ His eyes are soft, and a wave of relief washes over me as I realize that Wes truly cares about my well-being.

I get up and make my way over to the bed and crawl under the covers, leaving my dinner mostly untouched. “I just don’t want to burden you with everything that goes through my fucked up brain. Ninety percent of that shit isn’t important.”

“You’re what’s important right now.” He says, setting down his keys. Wes gets up and comes to sit down on the edge of the bed.

“It’s a lot, Wes. It could take all night, and you have to work.” I shift underneath the comforter, cocooning it around me.

“I have forever. Fuck work. Come here, and we can talk through it. Or you can cry and I’ll just hold you. Whatever you want, baby. I’m here. You have me. You’ll always have me.” He yanks back the comforter and grabs me by my ankle to drag me over to him. “I won’t let you shut me out. If you’re hurting, I’m hurting, too, baby.”

I look into Wes’s eyes, touched by his genuine concern and unwavering support. His words resonate deeply within me, reminding me I don’t have to face my struggles alone. I forget that being married means that you have someone always on your team, ready to fight battles alongside you. Even with the feeling of vulnerability and gratitude; I open up to him, willing to expose the pain and scars that I’ve carried silently for far too long.

As I recount the struggles I’ve fought within my mind, reliving death every single day, how, before him, I lived daily feeling unloved and unwanted. Wes remains by my side, offering a safe space for me to share my darkest moments. Silently, he holds me as I cry. His presence alone provides a sense of comfort and solace that I’ve been desperately craving.

With every word I speak, I feel a little piece of the darkness fade. Wes gently encourages me to let go of the fear of burdening him, assuring me that my well-being is his priority.

“I constantly feel like I’m still drowning in the water, unable to breathe… I don’t know how to surface from the darkness.” My fingers trace the tattoos on his hand.

“When you can’t see the light, I’ll sit with you in the darkness. I’ll take all of your pain within myself and carry it for you if I have to, Layne. You’re not drowning, Ma Petite Mort. Breathe, and if you ever feel you can’t, I’ll be the oxygen that brings you back to life, because there’s no world for me without you in it.“ Wes pulls me up and kisses my lips.

His words penetrate my heart and soul, reminding me that my pain is not mine alone to bear. Wes’s love for me goes beyond just words; it’s a tangible force that wraps around me, offering safety and understanding. And with every tear I shed, Wes holds me tighter, providing the comfort I desperately need.

Together, we navigate the labyrinth of my mind, unearthing the scars and wounds that have haunted me for far too long. And as we delve deeper, Wes’s love becomes the balm that soothes my soul, reminding me I am not alone.

In Wes, I’ve found a partner who is not only willing to listen but also eager to hold me through the darkest nights. Our connection is a lifeline, a lifeline that I will forever be grateful for as we embark on this journey of healing together.

Chapter twenty-nine

Wes

Layne lays sleeping next to me after opening up to me last night. Finally, I feel like we are making progress, and I will do whatever she needs to keep moving forward. I just don’t want to lose her to herself. I want so desperately to take her pain within myself just so her soul won’t hurt anymore. All the memories that torment her, that bend her mind and break her heart. If only for a moment, I could provide her with slight relief. I would.

Layne, I want to mend our broken pieces together. Maybe the only way to be whole is if we’re together. The pieces of her broken soul fitting into the empty spaces of mine, making each other complete.

After giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead, I carefully slide out of bed and walk towards my desk. Once there, I quickly grab my laptop before leisurely making my way over to the couch. I fire it up and log into my email to download all the files from work. Corbin Bannister. I sit on the couch and feel the anger coursing through my veins as I open the files one by one, containing all the information I have gathered about him so far. His dark past, his manipulation, and the pain he has inflicted on others. It’s sickening.

I meticulously plan my next moves. Placing a tracker on him is crucial to gather evidence and expose his true nature. I know it won’t be easy, but for the safety of other children, I’m willing to do whatever it takes. With a deadline of three weeks, my aim is to uncover Bannister’s secrets and ensure he meets his fate at the edge of my knife.

The deeper I dig, I uncover even more disturbing information about his past. The extent of his cruelty is unimaginable. He has always lacked decency as a person. From engaging in the exploitation of women, taking children exclusively for the purpose of sexually abusing them, including his own daughters. It only fuels my need to kill him.

I stay awake, sifting through the information, unable to sleep with all the depravity I have now uncovered. Leaving my laptop open on the coffee table; I make my way to the fridge and pull out an energy drink. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I crack it open. Making my way across the room, I grab my cigarettes before stepping out onto the balcony. Caffeine and nicotine, the breakfast of champions. I gaze at the water while the sun rises behind clouds.

Another cold and dreary day. Typical San Francisco weather.

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