I always will.
His eyes were bloodshot. His face was tear-soaked. In his hand was his belt. “Can you keep quiet?” he said.
I nodded.
“This isn’t just for you. It’s for me too. I want to beat the shit out of you,” he admitted. “I’m not going to. Five. Just five. We’ll take a break if you need it, but we’re going to get through five.”
I nodded. I wanted it. Somehow, he knew without me asking. I pulled down my pants and briefs, bending over and placing my forearms on the kitchen table.
I know what everyone’s thinking. This is what our father did to us. Why the fuck are we doing it to ourselves?
There’s not a lot of fucking research on this shit and I don’t agree with most of what’s there, personally. Some people would never want to look at another belt again. Others crave it. Or crave to wield it. Guess which ones we are?
Silas was crisp and careful with his strokes, but even then, he was strong, making me wonder just what they made custodians do at the school he cleaned every night. They hurt like the blazes. I didn’t need more than five to “abolish my sins”. Flinching on each stroke, I bit my tongue. They were quick enough not to create too much sound. I let out breathy exhales of pain trying to ride it rather than absorb it.
But nothing was going to allow me to escape the moment.
For some, pain takes them away. For me, it keeps me in the present, which is what I need. It won’t allow me to escape anything—something I’m too good at doing. I’m the fucking Houdini of avoidance.
When he was finished—he’d checked in after number three, but I was fine and told him to complete the punishment—he sat at the table, wrecked.
“Thank you,” I said as I pulled up my sweats and sat, gingerly. That had to be a hard for him to do, but I’m sure the anger, and terror helped.
“That did very little to cool my anxiety, Darius. I don’t know what to do about this.”
“All that did was calm my guilt over it. I can’t promise it won’t happen again. I’m not doing well with this no sleep thing.”
For some, “it’s an accident” means “I don’t need to suffer the consequences”. That doesn’t register for people like us. We need consequences—whether we’re meting them out or accepting them—to make us feel right again. To balance the force.
I shook with disrupted emotions, wiping my eyes. “Please will you consider Simon and Shane? We’re tapped out, Sye,” I said in a hushed voice. “This is proof. I know I can be an irresponsible airhead sometimes, but never with Oli. Please say you know that?”
He didn’t. As fucked up as I am, Silas is beyond what I can fathom. That he didn’t beat the shit out of me says something about his character most people will miss while they focus on the violence they do perceive.
Tapping his fingers on this table—one, two, three, four—he deliberated without me. I was terrified I wouldn’t be in the loop anymore and once again I’d be outside the family. I wanted to scream. Flip the table. Attack Silas. Anything to release the anger of injustice.
I knew it was a huge fucking mistake. I didn’t expect to be forgiven easily, didn’t even want to be, but I wanted unconditional love all the same.
It seemed to take him forever. The silence filled the room like a hot air balloon being pushed past its max, an explosion imminent.
I was the one to burst. I cried. And begged. “Don’t get rid of me, Silas. Please. I won’t survive it. I’ll do whatever I need to do to make this up to you. Can we get by on your wage? Then I can stay home with Oli.”
I blathered on like that for a solid two minutes, knowing none of that was possible. Just getting by wasn’t an option. We needed to get ahead. My wage, however meager, gave us options.
Silas put a gentle hand on my wrist. “No matter how angry I get, I will never get rid of you, Darius.”
A promise from Silas is worth more than any kingdom. Unfortunately, that’s true for when he promises retribution for something you’ve done as well.
I nodded, but I couldn’t speak, letting the tears run silently.
“Okay. We’ll get Simon and Shane, but we follow my rules. I expect you to make that clear to them. I am open to people’s suggestions, but I make the final call. This isn’t a fucking democracy.”
That’s what Silas needed to feel safe. It’s what he still needs to feel safe: absolute control.
“Yes. I’ll make sure.”
* * *
Darius
