Page 60 of Tortured Whispers
“I was sad. I needed to wash the sadness away without drowning. They were passing awound liquor in cups and I took one then another and another until everything was fuzzy.”
“Brook, you can’t replace one vice with another. That’s not how healing works. That’s exactly why I didn’t want you running out of here like you did. When you’re upset you need to talk. Especially right now. You’re in a vulnerable place,” he fussed.
“No shit, Cease,” I scoffed. I pushed damp strands of hair away from my face and looked at him. My heart ached at how fine he was. How defined the angles of his face were. How dark the hair on his face was turning. I liked the fact that he was letting his beard grow in. He looked distinguished.
“You know, I did research on incest laws in California. There’s no scenario where we can be together and be fwee,” I told him.
“There are ways around everything, baby. Let’s get through your graduation first. Let me save money. Let’s make a plan,” he begged.
“I want to believe we can make a plan and make it happen but…how? How can I have you and not ruin your life in the pwocess?” My heart was starting to thud faster and faster. Thinking about fucking up everything Caesar worked for was making me dizzy with shame and guilt. Everything but regret.
I could never regret a love like the one I had with him.
“I need you to trust me. I’ve been thinking about this for a few days and I’m playing around with some ideas. I do know that we have to be careful. Ronnie suspects we’re together.” The revelation sounded like bombs falling from his lips. My eyes flitted over his face and I felt the need to vomit all over again.
I slammed the can of soda down on the edge of the sink and let all the contents of my stomach go into the toilet. Cease was at my side in an instant, holding my hair and rubbing my back in slow circles. As usual, he was there for me without me having to say a word.
“He…knows?” My voice wobbled.
“Yes. He knows but I refused to confirm. He’s not out to get us. His dissertation was written on GSA,” he said like I should know what he was talking about.
“What the hell is that?” I asked, sniffling.
“Genetic Sexual Attraction. It’s a syndrome. It exists outside of your run of the mill incest. It’s a special circumstance where relatives have been apart for an extended amount of time or when they’ve had no knowledge of each other, meet as adults or teenagers for the first time and have an attraction to each other.
Ronnie argued that the syndrome occurs because, when looking for a mate, our brains are hardwired to seek out faces that look similar to our own to denote trustworthiness.”
My ears burned at his words and I sat up a little straighter.
“So, like…we’re attracted to each other because we didn’t see each other while I was growing up?”
“Essentially. I saw you once when you were four.” He stared at the floor and pushed out a shaky breath. “He’s not a bad guy but still. I don’t want anyone meddling in what we have. It’s our refuge. I know Ronnie would try to help us understand our feelings but I’m not ready to share the feelings that I have for you yet. I don’t want them to be picked apart.” He brushed his knuckles against my cheek and I nuzzled against his touch immediately.
“I’d shout how much I love you from the fucking mountain tops but for once, I don’t want something so sacred analyzed down to the bones. I want to love you and that’s it.”
When he stopped talking, my bottom lip began to tremble. He loved me so much that it radiated off him. I never wanted to leave his side but I was terrified of anyone finding out. They would take him from me.
They would take us away from each other and it was clear that he needed me as much as I needed him. “I want us to lay low when we’re in public. No more fucking you the second you walk into my office. No more going out together for a while. Here at home, everything is fair game.”
“Y-You really want to try and work this out, Cease? What about getting arrested?” I quizzed. My stomach was churning and I prayed I didn’t throw up again. How the hell much liquor did I have left to get out anyway? It felt like my body was rejecting everything I’d eaten for the past eighteen years.
“Yes, I do. We’ll have to jump through some hoops but at this point, I can’t see living life without you.” He stood to his feet and held out his hand for me to grab on to. The walls seemed to buckle when I stood up. I needed to lie down.
Cease ran a warm shower for me and washed me from head to toe. When I got out, he handed me Tylenol then tossed one of the tank tops he bought at my head. I laughed a little before pulling it on.
I stared at my scars, shame churning deep and hot in my belly. “Stop it,” Cease warned.
“I hate them. I hate my scaws.” I dropped my hands to my side and climbed in bed beside Caesar. He spooned with me, warming my cool skin with his muscular arms.
“They’re a part of you now, Brook. You can’t wish them away because then you’d be wishing yourself away. They’re not perfect. They show the undisputed fact that you’re not perfect. That you’ve been through some shit with yourself. You’re going to come out on top though. Also, you don’t have any vertical scars and that is something to be proud of.” I watched his thumb skate over my scarred skin and nodded. He was right. I didn’t harm to kill I just harmed to…breathe.
