Page 19 of Stealing It
She’s safe enough enveloped in Colton’s rant about humidity and sweat, so I grab a couple burgers from the grill, tuck beers under my arms and find an empty spot at a picnic table. I fix the burgers, trying to sort what I think Magnolia would like on her burger, in the end, I fix it the same as mine: all the way. I’m walking over to tell her it’s ready, but Leo stops me, a tight hand on my arm. “I got second dibs,” he says eyes never leaving Magnolia. The nefarious flicker warns me he’s serious.
“Fuck you, Leo. This is a no dibs thing. She is not the kind of woman we normally hang out with. You know that though, or you wouldn’t be interested.” It’s a new relationship so my single friends will test the boundaries. Will we take sloppy seconds in a different scenario? Sure. If it’s a one-night stand, chances are we’ve double dipped unaware. “Stay away from her,” I say, driving my point home. “Magnolia is off limits.”
“Is she?” Leo smirks, and my stomach coils. Why do I care that he’s being a smarmy bastard? I’ve been the same smarmy bastard in the past when I was younger. I get it now—how a woman, the right woman, can change almost everything in the blink of an eye. Leo is heading to Harbour Point soon. He was a trade for Colton, to keep the bases evenly staffed. He’s from Cape Cod and has been trying to work his way back there since he recently graduated BUD/s. He is a fresh nineteen years old and doesn’t have any limits—a mere child in the arena of seasoned pros. If our current conversation has anything to say about his maturity level, he has much to learn. And he will probably learn it the hard way.
“Leo. I’m fucking serious,” I growl under my breath when I see Magnolia peering around Colton’s shoulder to catch my eye. “Stay the fuck away from Magnolia.”
“I will stay the fuck away from Magnolia,” he says repeating my words back to me, slithering away, back from the shadows he crept from. My skin prickles and I fucking hate the feeling. Throwing up a hand, I hike my thumb over my shoulder at the table. Magnolia excuses herself from Colton’s whining tirade and approaches. Her tank top is tight, and her shorts are short. The light from the scattered tiki torches lends just enough to make her glow. As she walks toward me, she looks like an angel, one that every other man here is watching in this moment. Her smile is only for me, her gaze all fucking mine and all hesitations melt away. Her gait pauses when she’s standing in front of me.
“Burgers ready?” she asks, licking her lips.
I take her face in my hands, a tender gesture I’d second guess any other time given the circumstances, and I shock all of these bastards when I lean in and kiss Magnolia with pent-up passion. She folds into me, pressing her body against mine, her chin tipped up to take anything I’ll give her.
When I pull away from the kiss her eyes look glazed over. She’s turned on, and my pulse ratchets up in response. I keep my hand on her face and say, “Burgers are ready, but more importantly, you are so fucking beautiful.”
She swallows hard. “You’re making me blush.”
“You’re making me crazy,” I counter, grinning.
“I’ve missed you,” she says, keeping her voice low. She senses all of the eyes and ears on us. “Maybe we can get out of here after we eat?” she says. “I only have a couple hours. Kendall is at a fundraiser meeting at the high school. I need to pick her up in a bit.”
I nod. I get it now. Why Tahoe and Leif aren’t here. How the world shifts, tilts, in favor of the person who grants you the most happiness. “Let’s eat, my place after.”
Magnolia comments how good the cheeseburger is, and I mentally pat myself on the back for my choice in condiments. She asks me questions about the guys in between bites, but we put the burgers and beer down in record time. “Now is the time when we either pop smoke or start telling everyone goodbye,” Magnolia says. “Creep out, or make a show of it? I want them to like me, so maybe we say bye.” She tosses the options back and forth in her mind, I see her balancing the pros and cons of each. When her gaze lights on mine, she knows what I’m thinking, and that makes her decision easy.
“We can go up the dock on the other side. There aren’t torches over there so it will be dark. You up for an adventure?” I say, nuzzling her ear with my nose. She leans into my face, and I kiss her neck. Her lavender perfume mixed with sweat. It might as well be toxic. My mouth waters.
“I’ll never say no to adventure,” she counters. “Especially with you.” After I toss our garbage in the big can, I return to Magnolia and grab her hand. When we’re far enough away, and the blackness takes over our sight, I pull her up onto my back. She giggles, and tightens her grip around my neck.
The waves roll against the shore softly—a lulling sound as opposed to the angry Pacific Ocean break. The moon lights the way as I listen to Magnolia breathe gently by my ear. It’s a peace I am not used to knowing. Sure, there are moments of still silence, moments I reflect about how far I’ve come, but peace hasn’t ever been mine. There’s always, in some form or another, a shouting of protest—a war of unease that beats at my chest, a wrongly accused prisoner begging to be set free.
The light post beckons our arrival, but I need to tell Magnolia I want to stay out here in the blackness, with her heartbeat, a little longer. Feel this unknown peace, taste it, familiarize myself with it. “It’s such a nice night,” Magnolia whispers into my ear. “Do you see the moon?”
My heart stops beating for a moment, and she feels it, too. She must. I let her slide off my back and bring her back against my front as we sit in the sand. A contented sigh escapes her lips and I do my best to rein in my emotions. “It’s almost a full moon,” I reply. “There is a tiny sliver missing.”
“I don’t know,” Magnolia returns. “It looks full to me.”
She doesn’t know what she’s stirring, what she’s fixing, how she’s forming a person who has never really existed before this very moment.
_______________
“Get your ass off the bed you weak, little fucker,” he roars. I cover my ears because it hurts me. The words and the tone. My stomach hurts as I scramble off the bed in a sleepy haze, and retreat under the wooden table in the corner of my bedroom. It’s the furthest point from my bedroom door where he’s standing in blackness.
“So-so-sorry, Daddy,” I stammer, wrapping my arms around my knees, the cold wall stinging my bare skin. He fell asleep and my back was hurting while I slept on the floor. I thought I could sneak into the bed without him knowing. I’d be back on the floor before he woke in the morning. The trick has worked in the past. “I’m sorry. I’ll stay here. Please.” I plead with him even though I know he’s going to beat me. It will only hurt for a few hours and I’ll try not to make the same mistake again. It’s hard to remember what he doesn’t like me to do. There are so many things. Mommy is already sleeping. She sleeps a lot. Most of the day and all night long. I get to see her after school on occasion. Sometimes she’ll even smile at me and pat my head. She kissed my cheek on my birthday last year, maybe she’ll kiss me again soon.
Daddy beats me, pulls my pants down and uses the thick, black belt. He misses my behind and the crack stings my back. I think of her kiss, though. It keeps me from crying. Daddy doesn’t like tears either. “Tears are weak,” he says. Sleeping in beds makes me weak. I need to be a man. A strong man. He leaves the bed in my room as a temptation, he says. So I can control myself and make the right choices. I want to be a strong man. A big man. I want Mommy’s kisses. I sleep on the floor.
A tear sneaks out when the lash hits my side instead of my back. It hurts the worst when he misses and gets the tender skin. The teardrop hits the tile floor and I close my eyes so no more tears will come out. Daddy will be mad. Tears are for girls. For people who can’t control their emotions. Mommy never comes in. I think that’s why Daddy is so mad. I don’t want him to hit her, though. I’d rather he hit me because I can handle it. She can’t. She’s too tired. I’m a man.
He screams at me now that he’s finished with the belt. I can tell when he’s done because he’s out of breath and his arm shakes. “You are a pathetic excuse for a son. Do you hear me? You are a weak son of a bitch who will never be a fucking man. I’ll never be able to make you a fucking man if you don’t obey me you little fuck. Do you understand me, Aidan? I’m doing this to make you a better man.”
I stand, but my legs are shaky, and my skin feels like fire. “Yes, sir,” I say, keeping my voice loud and proud, like a strong man. “It won’t happen again.”
“You say that and yet it does. Time and again. Can you not handle the temptation? Are you that weak??” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Answer me verbally, you little pussy.”
