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Mr. X: Chapter 23


The phoenix hope, can wing her way through the desert skies, and still defying fortune’s spite; revive from ashes and rise. – Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra


Jay

Saturday, September 14th, 2013. 10:40 a.m.

All I remember is infinite passion between the two of us. Adoration and excitement that’s survived through time and suffering. It started sooner than what I can remember, but that night … that sinful night is one of the few bits of my past I saw. I remember. I remember he once craved me more than anything, and I remember that I desired him just as much. He was right all along. We both denied each other love. I needed his fucking to make up for the love my father didn’t give me. He needed mine to make up for the love his family didn’t offer. We’re both victims of a cruel world.

“I remember …” I whisper.

“What?” he says.

“I do …” My eyes grow watery. “Us … the night in my room.”

His pupils dilate. “How much?”

“All of it.”

X grabs my arms and tugs me closer. I don’t resist. I fall into his arms and let him hug me for the first time in what feels like a lifetime. His arms are warm and a welcome relief as he holds me against his chest. It feels like I always belonged here.

“My father … he …”

“I know. I saw all of it, but I couldn’t do anything. Trust me, I would’ve cut them all to pieces.”

“He wanted me gone, didn’t he?” I sniff. “He hated me. I endangered his stupid campaigns. All he cared about was his image in the media.”

His chest rises and falls as he takes a deep breath. “Yes. You did some things he did not agree with. I guess seeing us was the final straw for him. After you blacked out, he had you taken away. A few states away you were dropped at a hospital with nothing on you. I followed you all the way there. I came to check up on you once, but you couldn’t remember what happened. You couldn’t remember me.” He’s silent for a few seconds.

“I remember bits and pieces now … but wait a minute, you followed me? I thought they took you away?”

He sighs. “I never said when.”

Oh … “You mean after what they did to you.”

He growls, and it fades into a sigh. “Yes.”

“Oh my God.” I slap my hand in front of my mouth. “They did that to you because of me?”

I look up and gaze into his eye, which is filled with regret. I lift my hand and place it on his face again, truly feeling him for the first time. Tears run down my cheeks as I look at X. His scars overflow with rain underneath my hand. I don’t remember them being there when we had sex the first time. They burned him because he took their chance at my father’s money.

Oh God … are they the ones after my head? They must be. Of course my father stopped working with them after they all found out about our affair. They must’ve been pissed off. And if I die … then maybe all their problems will go away and they can work for my father again.

Oh, fuck no. No wonder X is so intent on humiliating them and pushing their buttons until they beg for death. No wonder he went through all this trouble finding out who did it. He probably knew but didn’t want to tell me.

And it’s all because of the fact that we fucked. My father taped it. Why didn’t I see that camera? He could’ve been watching me for months. Of course, that’s just like him.

I shudder. “That camera. I should have known. That’s why … you blame me. It’s my fault.” I push myself from his arms and let the rain pour down on me once again. I feel miserable. Not only because of what he put me through, or what I have forgotten because of that injury to my head, but also because I am the reason he was scarred for life.

Tears mix with rain as I stand here, feeling more dead than alive.

“Yes. You should have known,” he says.

Each word he utters is another dagger to the heart.

“They murdered me.”

It breaks me.

“I lay in the cold snow, dying over and over again, until I got up and swore that I would make everyone pay.”

“And have you?” I say, wincing. “Have you made everyone suffer as much as you did?”

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t respond.

“Have you had your fill of revenge?”

“Not yet.”

It shatters me. He is still not done. Whatever he’s doing, it has to end. At some point, neither of us will have a heart left to bleed from.

His lips part. “I hate you.”

His words cut me like a knife. I don’t know why I dislike hearing them so much. Have I really grown to actually want anything but hatred from him?

He steps toward me. Enraged, I raise my fist and try to punch him in the face. Before it lands, he grabs ahold of my hand, pushes it back into the trunk of the tree, and slams his lips against mine.

I’m stunned. He’s kissing me in full force, pouring every bit of regret, remorse, pain, agony, and … love into this. No, it can’t be. I can’t even pull away to think about this. My mind won’t let me. This kiss, this all-encompassing kiss, tells me more than any words he could say. His hatred is strong, but not as strong as his wantonness. His lips smash mine with greed, not even taking the time to breathe. He wants me so much he can’t even take a moment to catch air. This is what we are. Two broken souls coming together as one. I feel powerful and weak at the same time. I know what happened to me now, but I also know X never left me. Not physically, not mentally. We were always connected.

I feel his desire to be with me, despite what happened. Despite all the shit I put him through. Despite all the shit he put me through. I can’t say no anymore. I don’t want to. What I want is love, and even after everything we’ve been through, he is still offering it to me.

In his arms I was taken. In his arms I am reborn. Everything I was fades away. He breaks me down and builds me up again, piece by piece, just the way he wants me to be. He saves me from the people who want to kill me. He keeps me alive.

These words fill my mind as if they own me. They have been floating there for a while now, slowly creeping in, slowly taking over. Slowly, but surely, they become truth. Until there is nothing left except the unbreakable bond I share with him.

When he takes his lips off mine, they still linger as I gasp in air, catching my breath. I look at him, the scars that remain, the boy I remember him to be. They’re one and the same. What was once perfect is now ruined. I can’t live with that. I have to fix this. Everything.

I’ve been blinded by amnesia, but now I know. I won’t stop reliving the pain until I remember everything. I owe it to X and to myself.

His lips part. A droplet of rain rolls into his mouth. And then he say three words that split my soul apart.

“I love you.”


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