Saving You, Saving Me (12 page)

“Yes, Daggers?”

“I can’t see you, but since we last talked on the phone,  and I heard your voice, I thought this woman had the voice of an angel. I was taken aback after the call, I sat there for hours going over what we’d talked about and how you said everything. I don’t think you have a bone in your body that’s capable of saying degrading, abusive things like the women I’ve had relationships with.”

“It’s possible to find women who don’t abuse men,” I said. “Most women don’t.”

“That’s just my problem, Susan,” Daggers said in his low sexy voice. Oh my goodness, Lola was licking her lips.

“What problem is that?”

He paused and then there was this excruciating groan. “I hate it, but I crave it, too. And I can’t seem to stop.”

“You’ve got to stop, Daggers,” I said, trying to sound firm. “If you don’t, one of these days, you’ll get hurt or killed.”

“I don’t know if I can, Susan,” Daggers said in a voice so soft, so small, like a lost little boy’s. “What my mother did to me as a boy, with those women…” He began crying.

I began crying along with him. “It’s okay, Daggers. I’m here,” I said gently. “You will get through this…with me.”

Thursday

T
he next night, Daggers called again. “Hi Susan,” he said. “I began dreaming of a better life.”

“That’s wonderful. What was it about?”

“I stopped being in an abusive relationship. I found a girl who I could love and who would love me back with all my flaws and deep dark secrets.”

“I’m happy you’re having these dreams,” I said.

“The girl in the dream, Susan, has your voice,” Daggers added.

“Is she pretty and nice, too?” I asked.

“She’s gorgeous, the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” Daggers said.

“As long as she makes you happy and treats you like the beautiful human being that you are, I’m fine with it,” I said, thinking I would be. But deep down inside, I felt a pang of jealousy that Daggers would be off falling in love with some girl who did not even know him like I did. I felt proud of his progress, but sad at the same time, thinking that as Daggers got better, he would no longer reach out for me.

Friday

Daggers called me on Friday with some news. “Susan, I’m happy to say my shrink says I’ve made improvements with my abusive relationship issue.”

“You have a shrink?” I asked.

“Had one for a few years,” he said.

“Then why did you start calling Sawyer House?” I asked. “Not that you’re not welcome, but because we’re usually the first person callers would call.”

“I was looking for someone who worked there, and ended up talking to you.” Daggers chuckled. “Good thing, too. You’ve helped me make significant improvements.”

“Well, are you going to stop calling Sawyer House now?” I asked, feeling like my heart would break if he did.

“I should so you can use the time you talk to me on someone else, but I don’t want to,” he said.

“I don’t want you to, too,” I added.

“Why?” Daggers asked.

“Because I like talking to you. You’re more than a caller to me. You mean much more than that,” I admitted.

“You mean much more to me, too. I need to hear your voice. I need to hear that you will be okay, despite things at home,” Daggers said.

“All I do is listen, Daggers, but what you’ve done, was help me deal with what’s happening to me. I need you, too.”

“Susan, I wish to God, I could talk to you outside of Sawyer House. That we could have a real relationship beyond the Center.”

“I know, Daggers, but it’s against policy.”

“Unless I stopped calling Sawyer House,” Daggers said.

“Please don’t say that,” I said. “I need to hear from you, too. I need to know you’ll be okay.” I just realized he had said the same thing to me.

There was a small gasp on the other line, and then Daggers’ voice came loud and clear. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“I look forward to it,” I said. “Daggers, my sweet man, how did you get such a nickname?”

“I wasn’t always so sweet,” Daggers said. “I had to hustle when I was growing up poor on the streets, especially after I ran away from home. I had to get tough, tough enough to send someone to the hospital, if they messed with me. One day I was sleeping on the street, and a man tried to undress me, take my clothes, and even tried to feel me up. I became so angry, I knifed him. Daggered him. He ran but didn’t get far. I turned him into the police, and they sent him to the hospital. But ever since then, I toughened up. No one would mess with me, and that same attitude got me noticed by some people who helped pulled me off the streets, get cleaned up, get educated, and have shelter. I went and got a tattoo of a dagger on my shoulder and wore it proudly. That’s how I became Daggers,” he said.

*****

I arrived home late after talking to Daggers, my heart twisted in sadness for him, and thinking how it took a lot of courage for some big guy like Daggers to call and admit to having such a messed up addiction.

After showering and doing some homework, I crawled into bed and was out in seconds.

*****

I dreamt of thick muscular arms holding me, while a handsome face nuzzled against mine, kissing me with dove soft lips. “You’re my light, my hope,” he was saying as he kissed my eyelids, my cheeks and lips before plunging his tongue in to taste mine. His tongue was  honey sweet, and I couldn’t get enough of his kisses.

My hands roamed his smooth muscular bare back as he pressed his hips close to mine.

“Say it,” he demanded. “What do you want?”

“I want to feel you…”

“Where?”

“All over.”

“Tell me what to do.”

“Keep doing what you’re doing,” he said, setting up a video camera. I grabbed the camera and began filming him as he undressed. Then I kissed him on his muscular bare chest.

He moaned against me, kissing my jawline and licking my neck.  His fingers traced the skin on my back, softly while I explored the large expanse of his chest, torso, and hips. He lifted me until I was straddling his waist with my legs wrapped firmly around, and he had plunged his face into the crevices between my chest, kissing it with soft light kisses. I was wearing my navy pleated miniskirt with my hearts underwear and it flew up to my waist, exposing my underwear. He chuckled, seeing the hearts on my underwear and proceeded to gently slide them off after kissing the area covered by a few of the hearts. “Hmmm,” he growled, “hearts strategically placed can drive a man crazy.” Lost in the sensation his kisses were having on me, the back of my mind asked where had I heard that before. Then I remembered – Collins McGregor had said that.

 “I can’t get enough of you,” he said in his sexy velvety voice that sent shudders down my spine, between kisses. “I’ve waited for you for so long, and now you’re mine.”

******

I woke up from my naughty dream of what I felt I was having with Daggers or was it Collins McGregor? I was getting both of them confused with each other. While I lusted after Collins McGregor, I believed I loved Daggers. This was a revelation for me. I knew I could not be with Daggers in reality, but with Collins McGregor, I actually had a chance for a real relationship…if I agreed to what he wanted out of the relationship. Whatever it was, I was affected by both, with my body quivering, and my heart racing, both men had an immediate physical and psychological effect on me which I could not shake. Lola was grinning like a cat, while Serious Susan was fanning herself with her hands.

What was I doing dreaming of Daggers?  He seemed so right for me in the dreams, but now awake, he seemed like the last person on earth I should get involved with.

I crawled out of bed, putting a robe over my t-shirt and shorts before I headed out of my room and to the kitchen. I got my glass out of the cupboard, poured bottled water into it, and headed back to my room.

The voices were loud. Mom and Dad’s raised voices arguing in their bedroom. I wished to God I could drown out their voices, but I couldn’t avoid it if I wanted to go back to my room.

“How many more times?” Mom was shouting.

“I should ask you the same thing,” Dad said calmly but with steel resolve.

“I don’t care if you’re the Pastor, I’m sick and tired of pretending nothing is wrong.”

“If you stop drinking and seek help for your alcoholism, I wouldn’t do what I’m doing.”

“What I do shouldn’t be the reason for you sneaking behind my back all these years. You are such a hypocrite,  Samuel Sullivan. If only you practiced what you preach.”

“I only married you because you claimed the baby was mine,” Dad said.

“She is,” Mom said, now with tears. “Can’t you believe it after all these years?”

“She looks like you,” Dad said, “She even acted like you when she was with the Billy kid, letting him feel her up and… I don’t even want to think what he was doing with her!” Dad said. “If it wasn’t for my discipline, Ann, she would be a two-bit whore like you were.”

I froze, as Dad’s harsh words hit my chest with such force I felt my heart being torn out of me. My Dad didn’t think I was his child. My Dad didn’t want me. He had only married Mom because he thought I was his.  Wasn’t I?

I had blocked everything about the Billy Incident since that day, the worst day of my shame.  The day I shamed our family in the community. Made Dad almost lose his job because I was caught fooling around with Billy.

I was the reason behind Mom and Dad’s horrible marriage. I was the reason they were so unhappy.  Well, I wasn’t going to be anymore. I was eighteen and now legally an adult.

 I went to my closet and pulled out a large suitcase, filled it with clothes, shoes, my books, stuff animals, and diary. I grabbed my phone, backpack, and laptop and walked out of my room.

Mom and Dad were still at it, while I took a peek into Nydia’s room at the other end of the house. Fortunately, she was fast asleep so she didn’t hear Mom and Dad arguing. I couldn’t bear to look at her and not cry. I told myself Nydia should be alright living with Mom and Dad. She was his for sure, even looking very much like him, while I was Mom’s with an uncertain father.

Looking at sweet Nydia sleep, with her teddy bear clutched in her arms, her “baby” as she called the worn out toy, I swore that I would come back to take care of her if things between Mom and Dad got worse. But right now, she was alright. I knew for a fact Dad loved Nydia, who was always his favorite, and Mom would protect her no matter what.

I knew for a fact Mom would take care of her as best she could, because as drunk as Mom ever got, she always remembered to have fresh milk in the refrigerator for Nydia.

Friday

           
I
was standing in front of the large black gates talking into the intercom, hoping to make sense to the woman who had answered. I couldn’t remember her name, but I think she was Collins’ housekeeper.

I had texted Collins McGregor that I was coming to see him before driving up the winding path up the coastline to the Newport Coast and then up a few more winding paths to the front of Collins McGregor’s gate.

My phone began ringing a Katy Perry ringtone, and I picked up.

“Sam,” Collins McGregor’s warm voice said softly. “Where are you?”

“Standing in front of your gate, trying to make your housekeeper understand I know who you are.”

Collins McGregor chuckled. “Still the same Sam. I’m going to come down and get you. Hold on a sec, I’m getting dressed.”

“Don’t bother,” I said. “I’m only wearing my robe.”

“And nothing else?” he asked smiling.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” I asked.

“Less,” he said.

“Oh,” I said as blood rushed to my ears. “Then by all means get dressed. What would your neighbors think?”

Collins McGregor laughed. “I don’t have neighbors, that’s why I live way up here.”

“I would say, come as you are, but what would your staff say if they saw you in the buff?”

“They would probably laugh,” Collins said. “The ones who live with me have probably seen everything by now.”

“Oh,” I said again, thinking I was making a habit of saying it.  I waited a few minutes, standing outside instead of waiting in the car. I shivered in the early morning air, as a cold wind from the ocean blew through. “It’s so cold up here,” I said into the phone.

“Then I’ll be happy to warm you up,” a voice said next to me. I jumped as Collins McGregor’s arms enclosed around me, pulling me in against his chest. I should have protested, but when he touched me, all the pent up emotions and lust came spilling out of me. Instantly, I felt that electrifying heat surge between us, as white hot passion took over. His lips were immediately on mine as he thoroughly kissed me. We were standing there kissing for a while before he pulled back to whisper in my ears, his warm breath tickling them and sending a delicious thrill through me. “I miss biting these lips,” he said, taking my lower lips into his and nipping on the flesh gently but enough to make me moan. I was now looking into his icy blue eyes with my eyes half-closed. “If you keep staring at me like that, Sam, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

“Then let’s head inside,” I said.

“Keys?” he opened his palms out for me to hand over my keys. He took a look at my old blue Honda Civic before he opened the door to the passenger side, closed it when I got in and then went to the driver’s side. “I haven’t driven one of these for years,” he said, turning on the ignition.

“Then enjoy it while you can,” I said grinning.

He leaned over and gave me a quick kiss before driving through the gates and into the back of the house where one of the garage doors to his ten-car garage was opened. “I don’t care if it’s only 3 in the morning, Sam, I’m glad you called me.”

“I am, too,” I said meeting his intense gaze.

He reached out to lead me into the house and into his room.