The Scheme

He’d taken so much from me that night. My free will, how I saw men, and my ‘glass half full’ mentality. Now, at any moment, I was fearful that someone might tip the glass over, causing it to empty.

I turned the TV on, volume on loud to drive these thoughts deep down into places inside of me that I didn’t touch anymore. The ones of my dad and his new family. The ones where Cole was on top of me, hurting me, restraining me against my will, and using force to have his way.

When it didn’t work, I turned the volume up higher. When that didn’t work, I cupped both ears with my hands, but it was no use. The memory was taking me under.

Finally, I threw the remote and heard it thud against the television, then I dropped to my knees on the floor. That thud was a comforting sound compared to hearing myself plead with him over and over. My cries, my begging, and my screaming had not stopped him from violating me in the worst possible way. He had only wrapped his hand around my throat, suffocating me and restraining my cries.

And once it was over, he’d left me to clean myself up and leave.

I let my head fall into my hands, my shoulders shaking with sobs. I couldn’t. Not with Brian. Not when our relationship was unpredictable and all-consuming. If I let go with him, I wouldn’t be in control of my life anymore. This had not been our arrangement, our plan. I needed to take charge of my life from this day forward or I’d never be fixed. I’d forever be broken.

***

BRIAN

I reached over to the side of my bed, feeling around for the warmth of her body. When my hand patted against the empty sheet, I jolted up and searched my room for Kendy.

My stomach churned with dread as I leapt out of bed, put my boxers on, and rushed to the living room. “Kendy!” I yelled, searching every corner of mine and Trey’s tiny place. But she wasn’t in the living room, and she wasn’t in the bathroom.

“Kendy . . .” I stopped in the kitchen as realization hit me.

She left.

My hands gripped the kitchen counter, and I let my head hang as my eyes fell shut. Tonight, I’d seen the same emotion I felt mirrored in her eyes. I knew she loved me; these feelings didn’t only go one way. But maybe I’d rushed her. Maybe I should’ve given her more time.

“Fuck!” I growled, slamming my palms against the marble. At the sound of heavy footsteps, I peered up.

Trey slipped a shirt over his head as he strolled into the kitchen. “What happened?” His voice was low with concern as he advanced toward me.

“She left.” I rushed back to my room in search of my phone then pulled it from the back pocket of my jeans, which were on the floor, and dialed her number. It went straight to voicemail.

With a frustrated growl, I glanced at the digital clock on my nightstand. It was six-thirty. In a few hours, I’d be in the boardroom, trying to land the biggest client of my career, with every important board member from the company in attendance. This would make or break my hopes of getting a promotion . . . yet all I could think about was Kendy. Had she made it home safely? Were we okay?

I tilted my head from side to side, trying to ease the tension building in my muscles. I focused on the clock again, doubting my ability to get to work on time if I went after her. At this point, though, I didn’t fucking care. I wanted to talk to her, make sure we were okay. Make sure she was okay.

With my mind set, I pulled my jeans up and reached for my oversized shirt folded neatly at the edge of the bed, the one she’d worn to sleep. Slipping it on, I inhaled deeply, taking in her scent, which lingered on the cotton, and relived last night.

Yes, this was the right decision.

I marched to my closet, placing a pair of grey dress pants, a white crisp shirt, a tie, and a suit jacket into a garment bag. Then I picked up the keys I had dropped on the floor and rushed to the living room.

“Where’re you going?” Trey blocked my path to the door. “Don’t you have that big meeting this morning?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, not wanting the reminder. “I need to talk to Kendy first.”

I maneuvered past him, but he grabbed my arm. “Whoa! Listen, calm down. What happened last night, bro? What’s going on between you guys?”

I swallowed hard. “I love her,” I said, my voice breaking. “I want to make sure we’re okay.”

He nodded slowly then placed one hand on my shoulder and stepped out of my path. “Go then. Go get your girl.”

My girl . . .

Was she? I didn’t know.

I gave him a sad smile and rushed out. I only had a little over an hour to get to her and make my meeting. Time was ticking away.

***

I slammed the door behind me, stepped into the apartment, and undid my tie with one hand. “Fuck!”

This had to be the worst day I’d had in a long ass time. The biggest deal of my career had gone down the drain, because my head had not been in the game. I had gone to her apartment and . . . nothing. She hadn’t answered her phone, or the door when I incessantly pounded against it for over thirty minutes.

When I arrived at work, everyone was already in the boardroom, including our prospect. Disoriented, I’d started off on the wrong foot and dropped the ball. I’d been unable to answer questions like I normally did. My pitch and my normal confidence had not been there. All because my mind was focused on her.

“We’ll get back to you.” Their words.

Clearly, my manager had expected a different outcome.

I’d staggered out of the office, embarrassed to face the team. Then I’d gritted my teeth, sensing any semblance of control on my life slipping through my fingers.

Any chance I had of getting promoted this year had gone down the drain with my horrible presentation.

I dropped against the couch, resting my elbows against my knees. Ru

What the hell? What am I doing with my life?

I let my head fall back against the cushion and stared at the ceiling. All my hard work in the toilet, because of a girl? A girl, who’d left me in the middle of the night. A girl, who wouldn’t pick up my calls. A girl, who most likely didn’t believe I deserved an explanation.

With both hands, I tugged at the ends of my hair. Life was spiraling out of control, and I was going fucking crazy.

A moment of silence went by, and then my phone rang in my back pocket. I picked up and answered with an angry, “Hello.”

“Brian!” My mother’s excited voice echoed through the receiver. As much as I loved her, I didn’t want to talk to her right now, not when I was in a foul mood. She didn’t deserve my wrath.

“Mom.” My voice came out harsher than I’d expected it to. I closed my eyes, trying to calm the anger brewing inside me as a long, jagged breath left my mouth. “Sorry,” I said, forcing my voice to soften.

“Oh, honey . . . what’s wrong?” Her motherly concern echoed through the receiver. It was the same voice she used to soothe me when I was upset.

“Work.”

“Oh, Brian, you can’t fool me.” She sighed. “I carried you for nine months and raised you until you went off to college. Spill it.”

And there she was—my mother, the woman who knew all. The one who always knew I was getting sick before I even felt any symptoms. The one who had bandaged all my wounds. Call it a sixth sense or mother’s instinct, but there was no way of fooling her.

“Work?” She sighed. “What’s my saying?”

I shook my head. She always had one-liners for every situation. Maybe that was where I got it from.

“Honey, are you there?”

“Don’t stress; do your best,” I droned with a small smile. The tightness in my shoulders lightened as I heard her soft laughter.

“Yes. Do your best, because that’s all you can do, and laugh. When in doubt, laugh it out.”

And that was how my mother dealt with my rigid father. That was why she looked younger than her years. If only it was that easy.