“Xavier.” Ben said my name tenderly, which encouraged me to continue.
“I hated myself off of the drugs and hated myself even more while taking them. Damien just waited for the right time to make his move and I stupidly let that man back in. He was so much more violent the second time around, where before he mostly yelled and threw things,” I started to feel myself shaking, the hatred I had towards Damien still affected me.
“I started looking into online counseling and tips on how to get sober and stay that way. I read every article I could find, because I knew there was no way I could escape Damien’s eagle eye to attend meetings or work with a sponsor in person, but I was lucky to find a sponsor online who befriended me and chatted with me.” I could feel Ben relax a little with my admission, his gentle massage started again on my scalp and back.
“I faked highs around the band and Damien while I weaned myself off the drugs. I put all of my focus on the natural high I got from working out instead of the artificial buzz I got from the drugs. It was working until Damien searched my phone, tablet, and laptop and saw my emails I sent back and forth to my sponsor, Kevin.
“Damien was waiting for me in my dressing room when I got done performing one night. He blindsided me with a violent attack and I ended up handcuffed to metal furniture that was bolted into the concrete floor. He told me how he was going to destroy Kevin’s life by convincing his wife that he was having an affair with me, because in his crazed mind that is what Kevin and I were doing.” I could feel the chill that I had felt that night start to seep through the heat of Ben’s body. I shivered before I could stop myself.
“He struck me in the face repeatedly while he yelled about how only he could have me. I knew I was going to die when he wrapped his hands around my neck and began to squeeze the life out of me. I felt my life slipping away and I welcomed it, Ben.”
“No. Please don’t say that, Xavier,” Ben whispered brokenly.
“I did, because I figured it was my only escape from him. Then members of the band kicked in the door after hearing Damien screaming about killing me. They saved my life and I used the damage to my face and neck as collateral to escape that bastard once and for all.”
“Did you go to the police?”
I shook my head. “I know it was wrong of me, Ben, but I was too ashamed, which is just how abusers want their victims to be – too embarrassed to talk. I just wanted to get away, but I documented my injuries and got statements from the witnesses. The other band members were willing to let him get away with a lot, but not murder. There was no doubt in any of our minds that I would have been dead had they not kicked in the door.”
Ben held me tighter, but didn’t say anything. It was then that I noticed we were both shivering, because the hot water had run out sometime during my confession. I was too lost in my memories to notice and Ben either didn’t notice or he didn’t want to interrupt me. “Let’s get dried off and dressed and then you can tell me the rest while I fix you something to eat.” Ben stepped out, handing me a towel before wrapping himself up in his own.
We dried off and dressed in silence, neither of us speaking until we were in his cozy kitchen. I watched as Ben calmly pulled ingredients out of his refrigerator and began to assemble the makings for a grilled ham and cheese sandwich.
“Soup?”
“Just a sandwich is fine,” I replied. “Thank you for doing this, Ben.” He paused and looked over his shoulder and offered a comforting smile. I was so relieved when I didn’t see disdain and censure in his beautiful gray eyes. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
“I already ate a few hours ago. You’re very welcome, Xavier.” Ben turned his focus back on cooking my sandwich and then asked, “Are you ready to tell me the rest of what happened?”
“Uh, Damien was finally subdued by the rest of the band and a few of our crew members drove me to my apartment and helped me pack up my stuff and checked me into a hotel about forty-five minutes away. One of them followed in Mistress so that I wouldn’t be stranded without a vehicle when I was ready to move on. They even brought me enough food and bottled water for the little hotel fridge so I could stay inside for a few days. I realized the next morning why they thought I might want to hide.
“I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror the next morning. My face was so battered, bruised, and swollen; my neck bore the ten angry fingerprints of the man who tried to love me to death.” A shiver racked my body as I remembered it all again so clearly. “I’ll never forget the sight of that blood-tinged water sliding over my body and washing down the drain in that hotel shower. I decided it was a symbol of washing away all the ugly and starting over clean. I convinced myself I would come out of the ordeal smarter and stronger.
“I stayed at the hotel for about a week and then I cleaned out my bank account and safety deposit box – that was the only part of my life that I wouldn’t let Damien control – and slowly began making my way back home while my body healed. I drove from the west coast to the east coast with both car windows down and let the wind blow the negativity away, or that was the plan. I still battle a lot of self-hatred and I’m finding it really hard to forgive myself, although I am trying.”
Warm hands slid over mine where I had them clasped tightly together on top of the kitchen table. I was so caught up in the memories that I didn’t realize that Ben had brought my sandwich to the table and sat in the chair across from me. I looked at those strong hands and remembered the feel of them on my body, both in passion and tenderness. I then looked into his expressive eyes that were damp with unshed tears and for the first time in so very long I felt something begin to bloom in my guarded heart. Hope.
Early the next morning, I heard the new melody in my dreams; it wasn’t the entire song, but it was several strands of music. I immediately sat up, turned on the lamp, and grabbed my notebook and pencil so I could record the chords as I heard them in my dream. Once I finished, I turned off the light and laid back down, but sleep eluded me.
I had been intimate with Ben on two occasions and both times I heard a part of the new melody that I suspected would transform into a beautiful song. I wanted to chalk it up to coincidence, but I had never bought into that theory. I was a firm believer that everything happened for a reason, both good and bad. Yet, my brain cautioned me against moving too fast and letting my guard down too soon. My heart, however, was beating to the new melody that I only heard after finding comfort with Ben. It became the rhythm of us.
“BEN, MRS. ST. CLAIREis here to see you.” Ian’s words drove a railroad spike through my brain. I could hear my assistant’s unspoken thoughts, because they were the same thoughts I had every time my mother came to my office for a visit. Neither of us were Beverly St. Claire fans. We’d commiserate with each over coffee as soon as she left.
Why the fuck was she bothering me at my office? “Tell her I’m in a meeting, that I’m out of town, or better yet you can tell her that I’m dead.”
“Um, sir ...”
“I heard that, Bennett, and it’s no way to treat your mother.”
“Sorry, Ben.” If he were any kind of PA, he would have body tackled her before she got through my door. His distressed voice made it impossible for me to be irritated with him.
“You can make it up to me later with a giant banana nut muffin.” I hit the speakerphone button to disconnect the call from Ian then turned away from my conference table where I had been reviewing Drew’s revised mockups for the aquarium pitch, right before my mother walked into my office. “Mother.” I took in her outfit while I rose to my feet. It never ceased to amaze me that my mother dressed like the Queen of England every day, regardless if she stayed home or went out; the only thing missing was a hat.
“Bennett, I stopped by to ask a favor of you, but it’sobviousyou don’t want me here.” Beverly’s performance of unappreciated mother was worthy of an Emmy. I shuttered to think what they’d call a daytime soap opera based on my family.
“I’m a very busy man with a lot of responsibilities.” I refused to fall for her “poor, poor pitiful me” act. I especially wouldn’t let her ruin my day, because I had a stakeout to plan with Xavier for later that evening. I needed to see him and be reassured that he was doing okay after such an emotional night. “What can I do for you, Mother?”
“Well, I see where I rate.” Beverly huffed and rolled her eyes so dramatically that I nearly clapped my hands. “I’d like for you to escort me to a charity function in a few weeks.” I groaned loudly, but that didn’t faze her. “Your father and I have donated a lot of money to support LGBT youth inyourhonor, so the least that you can do is go with me. Your father is otherwiseengagedfor the evening.” That was Beverly’s euphemism for my father spending time with his mistress, aka Shameless Hussy. “I supported you when you came out as gay, but not every child is so fortunate, Bennett. I’d think you would welcome my efforts.”
