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I worked at a furious pace. The library became my second home, and I checked out and read every book on technology they had. My interest became an obsession, my passion a madness. The more I learned, the more I opened different parts of my mind and learned of their potential, the further my intellectual capacity grew. Chaos began to reign in my mind, a complicated race of intellectual competition, as one thought process competed with another, all in an attempt to fight to the front of my subconscious.
I worked harder. Didn’t eat. Barely slept. Ignored my parents and became the typical irritable preteen. I moved my bed into the basement and spent every spare moment there. It was as if technology spoke the only language that my newfound madness understood. Inside those cement walls the chaos—for one brief moment—stopped. Focus came to my life. Everything else disappeared. As I worked a furious schedule in my new home, my parents grew worried, consulted shrinks, and discussed me in hushed tones as if I was sick.
They started to take me to doctors, a slew of them. Dr. F was the face that stuck. A constant presence in the carousel of different tests and meds. He was a psychologist, one who asked questions and examined my experiences. He tried to sort through the kaleidoscope of my mind and understand its structure and balance. He pulled from me dozens of stories and covered every facet of my adolescence. I answered all of his questions but never could seem to tell him what he wanted to know. His focus was always stuck on two dates: August 2ndand December 12thof my eleventh year. When asked about those dates, I remained mute.
It wasn't a conscious decision; I wasn’t being stubborn or secretive. I didn't tell him because I didn't know what happened. It was as simple as that. I couldn't remember. Or maybe, my subconscious wouldn't let me remember.
Around the time that I thought the chaos would split my mind in two and reveal a brain cavity filled with wires, Dr. F solved the riddle. He found the right cocktail of drugs that quieted the madness and put a muted skin over all of the colors. He narrowed my world down to the basement, where time passed in a sea of grey. We switched from public school to homeschooling, any friends faded away, and I re-engineered my life with firewire cables and more CPUs. Dr. F and the tests eventually stopped. Jillian moved in, my parents returned to their jobs, and after a while, life took on a new reality: Jillian and I against the world. I built computers, she brokered deals, and we became successful. Any deceit we orchestrated … it didn’t seem to matter. Money was rolling in, and my parents lapped up anything we said like milk.
I lied for almost a decade, Jillian covering my sins with a smile and words so smooth that I almost believed them myself. Then, she brought me a new medication and I didn’t have to lie anymore.
It'd been 27 years since that eleventh year of my life.
I was in control. I was in love. I would convince her to be my wife, and we would work through her issues together.
I had never beenbetter, and the future was mine.
Chapter 60
ONE WEEK AGO
The crash of a plate cut to my core as Lee's arms swept everything off the entry table in one angry sweep. He was drunk, his eyes bleary, and had announced his arrival with a steady press on the doorbell between the guest house and main home. At the loud sound, I’d pulled on a robe and taken the elevator down to the beach level, the incessant buzz of the bell ringing through the elevator, a long foreshadow of the train wreck that greeted me. He had managed, through his drunk stupor, to take the outside stairs all the way down, and initially, I wasn't sure if the heave of his chest was from exertion or fury.
"I never wanted this! You wormed your way in my fucking life and now that you have me, you don't want me!" Lee gasped out the words, his eyes wide, hurt twisting his features.
"Of course I want you. I love you.” I tried to pull him into my arms, but he shoved me away, knocking over a waist-high statue in the process. The jade obelisk tipped away from me and I reached for it but failed, the heavy piece slamming into the marble floor with a loud crack.
"You say that, but you're still with him! What kind of sick twisted girl are you? I swear to God, I can’t—I can't take this. You leave me and go and fuck him and it’s killing me. I can't think about him touching you." He stared at me, and his eyes were dark and heavy with emotion. He exhaled hard, his hands trembling as he reached out and pulled me to him. "Tell me you love me."
"I love you." I held his stare and wished that he understood, my own eyes filling with tears.
"Tell me again."
"I love you."
He pulled me into the dark bedroom with frantic strides and stopped me in the doorway, ripping at my blue and white striped pajama pants, pulling the cotton material down with one hand while the other gripped my neck so hard that it hurt. When he pushed me onto the bed and shoved his cock inside of me, I wasn’t ready and he was so hard, and I gasped from the pain but ohmygod did I love him.
"I can’t lose you," he swore, lowering his body on top of mine. His hips started to move, and his cargo shorts rubbed against the back of my thighs as I wrapped my legs around his waist. "You're my everything." His mouth, surrounded by unshaven stubble scraped against my collarbone as he softly touched his lips to my skin. It was different than every other piece of this equation and I arched underneath him, pushing against his cock and pulling his head tighter to my neck, my arousal spiking as he kissed and bit the skin, creating a possessive trail. He pulled and pushed and branded me with his cock, the rhythm increasing in speed, and I moaned, the muscles under my fingers flexing as he fucked me with his frustration and feelings.
Then his lips opened against my neck, and he moaned my name, his thrusts slowing as his orgasm came. Our bodies slowed, his final thrusts hard and deep, and then he stilled. Staying inside of me, his cheek brushed mine as he brought his mouth to my ear. "Tell me."
"I love you,” I said weakly.
Then he laid down beside me and rolled me over until my back was against his chest, his arm wrapped tightly around me, his hand tenderly cupping my breast. He was so much larger than me, and the tuck of our bodies put his mouth against the top of my head.
"I don't know what to do." His voice was blurry and soft in the dark room, his words almost lost in the hum of the fan. "I love you too much to leave you. But I can't do this. It is killing me." Then he said the words I dreaded, the ones I never wanted to hear but had stalked me in my dreams. "You have to choose. You have to."
Ten minutes later, his breath evened out as he fell asleep. I stayed in place, his arms relaxing around me, and began to cry. Sometimes getting everything you ever wanted sucked.
It had been long enough. Any love there would have to be strong enough. It was time. I needed to rip the roof off all of our lies.
PartThree
It was time to pull the roof off all of our lies.
Chapter 61 - Belize
TWO YEARS, FOUR MONTHS AGO
