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But I stubbornly stand my ground. “Did you kill him?” I scream, my shrill voice almost unrecognizable.
Saxon exhales, brushing a hand down his face. He squeezes his eyes shut, attempting to lock this nightmare out. But neither of us has the luxury of living in denial a second longer. With a flutter of movement, the stormy gray of his stare threatens to engulf us both. “Yes.”
“Oh my god.” I can’t even begin to digest this admission without wanting to be sick.
“Please, let me explain.” Saxon lunges forward, but I shrink back, unable to stomach that phrase a moment longer. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard it in the past twenty-four hours.
When he witnesses my retreat, a sadness overcomes him and threatens to drag me under too. “H-how could you keep this from me?”
His cheeks billow as he exhales and runs his fingers through his hair. “Because I didn’t think it was the appropriate time to tell you all about my fucked-up past. You had enough on your plate. You didn’t need this as well. It’s not something I’m proud of, and not a second goes by that I don’t wish it was me lying in that grave!” Tears surface, but he quickly brushes them away. “I have no right to ask you, but please, come inside.”
I’m once again ripped right down the middle. My head and heart are dueling, but in the end, just like always, when it comes to Saxon, my heart triumphs, and I nod.
He moves out of the doorway, allowing me enough space to pass him without making contact. The detachment hurts, but I enter the bedroom, his familiar fragrance settling my rampant nerves an iota. I stand in the middle of the room, assaulted with memories of being in here, of Saxon undressing me and making me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
The kindness he showed me when I was drunk, lost, and so alone, and the way he didn’t shy away from my ugliness has a lump forming in my throat. I remember his promise…
“Will you take care of me?”
“Yes.”
“You promise?”
“Yes, I promise.”
“For how long?”
“For as long as you want me to.”
As I fell into a deep sleep, the word “forever” replaced good night, and I should have known from that moment forward, things were never going to be the same. The memories soothe the conflict, and I take a deep breath.
The door closes, but Saxon doesn’t move. My back is turned, but the room is silent. He needs a moment, just as I do.
“When I was nine, I thought I knew it all. I blame myself for Sam’s behavior; I mean, he learned from the best. Ivan was our next-door neighbor. Our birthdays were two weeks apart. We were stupid kids, always competing and trying to outsmart the other. One day, Ivan and I were riding our dirt bikes, and I dared him to make a jump. It was over an embankment with a small drop. He could have done it with his eyes closed.” Saxon pauses while I wrap my arms around my middle and get lost in yet another tale bound to change my life.
“I went first and cleared the jump, easy. I decided to up the ante and dare him to do it blindfolded. He accepted and used his sweater to cover his eyes. If he could do it, then I was going to give him all my comics. I agreed, certain he would fall and make a fool of himself, giving me something to laugh about for the next hour. I didn’t think he’d hurt himself or that it was dangerous. If I had, I never would have agreed.”
Finally gathering the courage, I turn and give Saxon and his story the respect they deserve.
He’s lost in a painful past, one which I think he has stored away and not revisited for years. I wet my lips, knowing what he says next will leave me weeping for the childhood Saxon lost.
“He revved his bike, and I watched…I watched my best friend kill himself.” His lower lip trembles. “His front tire blew, and he got thrown from his bike…over the edge. He broke his neck. He died instantly.”
I cover my mouth, tears streaming down my cheeks.
“All I really remember is looking over that embankment and seeing my best friend’s broken body, blindfolded. At first, I thought he was playing around, but when he didn’t move…when I saw the grotesque angle of his limbs, I knew what I’d done.” He shakes his head, his shame tangible. “I rode back to my house, told Kellie what I’d done, and asked her to call the police. But she didn’t.”
“What did she do?” My voice is barely a whisper.
“She did what the Stones always do…bribe their way out of trouble. I thought she was doing it to save me, but I soon realized she was doing it for herself. She was doing it to save face. The scandal would ruin them, so they paid the Prestons to keep quiet. And they did. They moved, and we never spoke of it again.”
I want to comfort him, but I don’t. I will give him all the time he needs.
He leans against the doorway, focused on a spot on the floor. “I was always the screw-up, and this just confirmed it. So now you can see, this was another reason my mother hated me. She told me I was no good my entire life, and I believed her. How couldn’t I? Look what I did. So that’s why I never fought her, and why I accepted them treating me like dirt. Because in my fucked-up head, I thought they were saving me because they cared. But now I know that all they did was save themselves the embarrassment of having me for a son. I deserved punishment for what I did, but instead, I was not taught how to feel. I was taught not to show weakness and to forget…so I forgot. About everything…”
The silence speaks volumes as it’s weighed down with white noise.
As I process everything Saxon just shared, everything clicks into place and paints a very different picture. “That’s why you were so shy. Introverted.”
