Page 79 of To Save Him

I shook my head.  “No, not at all.”  Which, it seemed to me, was the main reason why what he and I were doing behind closed doors was so wrong.  To my youngest son, Brandon was a substitute for his older brother; for me, Brandon filled the role of lover—and I didn’t see how that could change at this point…unless we completely called it off.  And, if I wasn’t mistaken, he would have to leave if we called it off.  We were too closely entwined now—if we were done, we would have to be done in every way thinkable.

But I didn’t even want to ponder our odd relationship ending.  I hated how my suspicions were looming—growing, even—because, without them, Brandon was becoming the perfect man for me.  In spite of our age difference, he was awakening something inside that no other man ever had…something I hadn’t even known was there.  It was something that was still partially hidden, but I wanted to discover it.  I wanted to see it, be it.

Live it.

JR mashed a slice of bread over the top of his sandwich, loaded not just with lunch meat and cheese but also leafy lettuce and a thick slice of tomato.  He was still struggling, so I patted him on the back.  “He feels like family to me too, JR.”  My son nodded but his expression was still pained.  And, in spite of the fact that I was no longer certain about Brandon or his intentions, I said, “I think Gabriel would have wanted it that way.”

IfBrandon was all he’d said he was, what I’d just told my son was no lie.  But that would remain to be seen.

 

* * *

 

OVER THE NEXT few weeks, Brandon eased me into more and more difficult—emotionally and mentally, at any rate—restraint situations.  By the time the kids were back in school, I’d managed handcuffs and having all my limbs tied to the bed.  Not only was I growing used to it, but I was beginning to enjoy it, wondering what he would do next.

I was starting to crave him.

Needhim.

But that made my need for resolution even stronger.  I’d given up on the notion of finding a picture of Brandon with Gabriel.  There was nothing electronic or physical in my possession—photo or email—and Brandon had already assured me that he didn’t even think a picture existed.  I’d need to assure myself through some other means that they’d served together…but I wasn’t sure how to do that yet.

In the meantime, I had to hide my doubts.  JR helped.  He kept Brandon occupied quite a bit—not only did he love having Brandon as a game buddy, but my young lover was also becoming a bit of a confidant for my son—and that was good for me too.  I knew there were lots of things young sons didn’t want to discuss with their mothers.  Girls were but one topic better left for male-to-male conversations.

But there was more going on there as well.  Coming to the school for his registration was but one area where JR was beginning to rely on Brandon more than he did me.  Brandon didn’t talk much about his own experiences but told JR that the military wasn’t all it was cracked up to be and then, in the next breath, he also told JR that Junior ROTC might be a great way to get a taste without endangering his life.

Awake, Brandon was two people—he was the kind, gentle, unassuming young man who stood in for my oldest son.  He was also becoming another manfor me—a commanding dominant who seemed to be training me in ways that would satisfy both our sexual appetites—an appetite I hadn’t known had existed within me until he’d discovered it.

Asleep, though, he was someone else entirely, living through unspeakable horrors.  His dream state was my only continuing indication that his past life was nothing he’d want to relive.  One early morning, he was having a nightmare so intense that I was sure his yelling would wake up my children—and I didn’t want to have to deal with any questions they might have revolving around why he was in my room instead of Gabriel’s.

I sat up in a panic, trying to figure out exactly what Brandon was shouting.  He was telling someone in his brain to stop—but that was all I could get out of it.  More than words, he was yelling, and the sounds coming out of his mouth were scary.  They were filled with fear—and that mademeafraid as well.

I started quietly saying his name and touching his shoulder, but that wasn’t waking him up.  I reached over to switch on the bedside lamp and then I turned and raised my voice before brushing his cheek.  “Brandon!”

When he opened his eyes, I could see them filled with fright—and no recognition.  I said his name again, but it didn’t matter.  In seconds, his hands were squeezing my shoulders and he rolled over on me, pushing me against the bed.  I was shouting his name by then, trying to get his attention, while squirming to get loose.  He’d raised his fist and pulled it back, ready to begin pummeling me—but I could see in his eyes that he couldn’t actually seeme—so I started fighting harder against him then, desperate to pull him out of the trance he was in.  While still shouting his name and trying to get loose, I also braced myself for the assault that was coming.

But then, at the last possible second, his fist mere inches away from my face, he snapped out of it.  And the look of horror that washed over his face gave me chills.  “Oh, shit, Kimberly.  Did I hurt you?”

I wriggled, still frightened and uncomfortable but not as worried now that he seemed to be in his right mind.  I was trying to squirm up and somewhat out of his embrace so I could sit up, but it wasn’t possible.  “No, but you scared the hell out of me.”  He took my face in his hands, his touch gentle and controlled.  “What happened?”

“I have no idea.  I think…I think I was having a nightmare.”  My expression must have continued to give away my fright, because he got off me and asked, as I was sitting up, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,Iam.”  I took his hand in mine, because even though he’d scared me, nothing had actually happened—and something was bothering him.  “Can you remember the nightmare?”

He shook his head but his furrowed brow told me he was trying to recall.  “Did I get on top of you like that?”

I paused.  I didn’t want to lie to him but I also could see how much this bothered him.  “You did, but it was like you weren’t in your right mind—almost like you were possessed.”

His head dropped and he brought his hands to his face.  It wasn’t until after a minute or so that I realized he was weeping.  All I knew to do was comfort him, and I ran my hand up and down his back.  His skin was smooth but clammy, and I wondered if he’d been sweating in his sleep.

As his skin grew warm and dry, I continued consoling him, and he tilted toward me.  I knew he was conflicted; I could sense that he hated showing this side of himself to me, but I wanted to help as much as I could, even if it was simply sitting beside him, offering silent comfort.

After some time, he wiped at his eyes and got out of bed, heading for the bathroom.  I could hear him blowing his nose before running water in the sink.  When he came out, his face looked more composed.  He got back in bed, though, where the light from the lamp was brighter, and there I could still see how strained the muscles in his face were.  Rather than say anything, I simply tried giving him a calm, loving look.  I wanted him to know I was there for him and I didn’t want to push him.

He sat on the edge of the bed so that his back was to me, hunched over a bit.  Although I hadn’t wanted to push, I hated seeing him like that.  “Why don’t you lie back down, Brandon?”

He didn’t respond, not by way of gesture, let alone words.  I considered touching him again, but I wanted to give him the space it seemed like he needed, so I leaned back against the headboard fighting a wave of sleepiness.  After a few more minutes, Brandon began talking.  “I actually remembered something.”

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