On the Edge of Wakefulness, Part 3

Chapter 7

"He loves you, Jed…if he realizes the choices, I know in my heart he'll make the right decision. I just do."

Téa had said those words but had lied right through her teeth. She didn't believe for one second Todd would willingly go to a long-term residence program no matter how much she wanted him to. Not for Jed, not for her, not for anything.

Today, he chose heroin.

So…she had to lie to Jed, had to build up an imaginary faith. It was necessary because she needed to get Jedediah to the juvenile facility in one piece, without pissing anybody off. He had to be treated with kid gloves and she needed the facility people to do the same.

But if Jed acted like Jed always did, he'd get mistreated—he'd get no compassion, or understanding, just the tough love of the juvenile system. And that is how the damage would deepen.

She looked down at Todd…still sitting on the floor with his head tipped back against the mattress, still nodded out. Lips parted. She touched his skin, noticing it had cooled. She moved strands of hair stuck to his cheek and ended up caressing the beard, then his head, feeling the bump Jed most likely gave him. He sleepily opened his eyes to her touches, licked his lips, then returned to dreamland. His arms lay loosely on his lap. She could see the fresh pink puncture mark on his forearm. A bruise would develop there. Another scar.

"Yeah, I'd sleep, too," Téa said. "You should be hiding."

He opened his eyes and looked around. Then mindlessly got up and crawled into the bed behind Téa. He grunted softly as he rolled to his side. The sweatpants were loose and slipped down, revealing the crack of his behind. She sighed. She scooted backwards on the bed to move closer to him. She traced the Grim Reaper tattoo with her fingertips. Prison artwork that was incredible, terrifying in its black and gray detail. The grin promised hell.

"How could you do that to your son?" she whispered, leaning over and pressing her lips to his shoulder, picking up the scent of soap.

All she got in response was silence. She caressed his long hair, still damp from a shower. She knew his body now. The way it worked. The way the muscles flexed as he moved. She could tell if he was really sleeping or just pretending to sleep merely by how he lay in bed. She knew the smell of him now, the scents he naturally emitted. Just showered versus earlier versus not for hours and hours. She knew when he walked the long walks between their building and the clinic and the Sun offices. Knew when he drove through the city, locked in an air-conditioned car. She knew his skin, the tattoos, the scars, the hair on his body. She lightly touched his lower back, his bared hip. She could easily reach around front and hold him, caress his cock, the sack. She knew he'd hold her hand in his, that he'd eventually turn to her and watch her as she brought him closer to his end, finally lifting his chin and closing his eyes and grunting breathily as he came. She knew him now, better than before. She could do things to him she knew he liked. And he could do things to her he knew she liked. It had only been a week and half of love-making, of education, exploration, that had drawn them closer.

She had become… obscured. She had missed everything that mattered.

Shaking her head, Téa got off the bed. She was torn. She had to search the room for more drugs, but needed to watch Jed. She knew this part of Todd from before. Knew there wasn't just one bag of heroin in this room. If he had decided to relapse, he would have taken care of himself for a goddamn month. She didn't want him slinking off… and he was so capable. She worried he would shoot up again if she left the room. She could tell he hadn't used that much which made him vulnerable to needing more and needing it soon.

She needed help with him, but time was short.

She had an idea. Quickly, she crossed the hall and grabbed some black nylon stockings from her dresser, returning to Todd. She climbed onto the bed, on hands and knees, and gently took one of his wrists, wrapping the black stocking around it… pulling it toward the heavy mahogany bedpost and tying it there as securely as possible. Before she liked, Todd stirred and tugged at his hand weakly. He looked in the direction of the unmovable limb, at the black stretch of material, confused, while Téa worked on his other wrist.

Within moments, he came more awake, glimpsing Téa with heavy-lidded eyes, and said in the quietest of tones, "What you doin' to me?" He sounded so innocent, so helpless, Téa almost stopped her job. She saw the revealing pinprick pupils however and went ahead and tied his other hand to the other bedpost with even more conviction. He jerked his arms a little, but the ties held fast.

"I have to take care of Jed—I don't have time to upturn the room for your drugs right now—and I don't trust you as far as I can throw you. Don't yell when the cops get here…you definitely don't want them to search the room, do you?"

"I won't do anything, Delgado…" Again, the soft voice, the puppy-like eyes. But he'd do this, wouldn't he? Fool her? Trick her?

Téa creased her brows, pressed her lips together, her face a picture of tension. "I'm doing this because I love you. And because I love your son whom you've hurt beyond comprehension."

"I hurt him?"

"My god…you used heroin while he was outside the door, hitting the door so hard he made himself bleed. Look for yourself, look at the door."

Todd left her…and looked at the bloodied door. He sniffled and gazed again at Téa, murmuring, "Didn't hear him."

"Right…" Téa was touching his hand, to see if the makeshift handcuffs were too tight, to see if the bindings would hold. "If I didn't know better, I'd almost think you did it specifically in front of Jed."

"Téa…please untie me…I'm starting to get weird thoughts and I don't like it."

He was stretched a bit, arms spread apart. His chest and belly were taut with resistance to the bindings, defined musculature revealed in the morning light. The pants were low, and she could see the puff of pubic hair, could see the shape of him beneath the fabric of his sweatpants. He raised a knee and rocked it. He writhed a little against the ties.

It was a disturbingly… erotic vision.

She shook her head to clear it. She wished he hadn't mentioned the weird thoughts… hadn't twisted guilt's knife in her gut. She could only imagine the sorts of things being tied up might stir in his corrupted imagination. Except… she had no choice at the moment. He was too cunning, too desperate. He'd fallen hard and there was no telling how far he'd go, no telling how devoted he was to the act of falling.

"I can't," she argued. "I need to take care of Jed. I promise you, it won't be long." She pulled her hair back, hesitating before leaving the room, trying to combat his practiced turn of the blade with every pained expression he threw her way, "You have no idea how scared I am of your drug. I'm so afraid of it… and I worry that you'll get hurt like before. Like when you weren't breathing and were on a respirator. I hear, too, when a person is on methadone… they don't feel the full dose of heroin until it's too late. They keep taking more to feel more…and by the time they do, by the time they feel…they've overdosed. And they die. I'm afraid of that."

She saw him pout his lips, take quick short breaths, as he said, "Please…you're not as scared as me. Don't do this…don't leave me like this… I'm terrified of being defenseless… even stoned, I'm so fuckin' scared of it…"

He suddenly sounded too manipulative for Téa's comfort… a twitch of his lip… a gleam in his eye… at least, she preferred to think of him that way. It made her action more palatable—she didn't want to be empathetic. Not now when Jed was at risk.

"And yet, you don't mind being defenseless in a shooting gallery? That makes no sense."

"I'm not fucked up enough… give me more and I can handle being tied up… come on, come on… it's easy… so easy…I could just snort it 'cause it's powder; you don't even have to inject me." He groaned at the end there… closing his eyes and putting his head back… writhing on the bed in a kind of agony only another addict could understand. But she found she had to work to ignore the sexual component to how he moved in the bindings.

"Come on, come on," he moaned. "You're killing me."

"No," she said, "And so help me God, if you yell…if you snarl in here like a rabid dog, if you so much as make a peep, I will let the police in here. I will tell them exactly what you did…and trust me, they will find your drugs and you will go straight to jail."

He stared at her…"Why aren't you doing that anyway?" Puppy-like again, pouting again… breathing fast… he tugged on the ties and brought his knees up… let them fall… twisted more.

"Because I want to give you a chance to take care of yourself on your own. I don't want to have to send you to jail."

With that, she stepped out of the room, pausing just outside. Praying he had enough drugs in his system to prevent a panic attack or anxiety attack or a flashback. God…she couldn't think like that. She leaned back against the wall and listened…listened to him pull at the homemade restraints and then sigh…and then make little whimpering noises. He quieted again, though. She didn't know if the ties would hold, but she couldn't think of that either now. For the most part, he seemed safe and secure.

She turned and went to Jed's room, stopping at his door.

He sat cross-legged on his bed in front of his backpack, his elbow on his knee, resting his head on his hand. The backpack bulged most certainly with things precious to him, things he'd need on the road. He looked to be carrying the weight of a thousand worlds on his shoulders. Though he dealt with very adult issues, lived very much an adult life, he was still a boy. Add in the messy hair, jeans that needed a washing, faded and stretched tee-shirt under the ancient leather jacket, and those ancient boots—it all made for a heart-wrenching package.

"How much time do I have?" He glanced up at her.

Téa checked her watch. "They said noon, but I wouldn't be surprised if they show earlier. Do you know where you're…wanting to go?"

"West V."

"What will you do there? Will you go home? That's actually a legal option. I could—"

"Hell, no. I'm gonna look for my mom. I got friends there."

"Oh yes…that's right." Téa took a spot next to Jed on the floor. "What did you take?"

"Nothing that will get me sent to jail like before."

She smiled, "That's good. What about food? Do you have money?"

"A little." He twisted his mouth…a habit he had when he thought about something he was unsure of. "I took money from Todd a while ago. Kinda stole it."

"How much did you take?"

He dropped his eyes… "A lot. Like over a thousand dollars. At least."

The theft surprised her, the amount, wounding her a little. She wasn't sure why. "Where'd you get it from?"

"Desk drawer… I saw it once."

That was what bothered her. He took it a while ago, took it in case he needed to run and clearly he thought… he might have to run. He never felt 100 percent safe here.

Oh god.

"Jed…"

He cut her off. "I think he carried cash around and I think… it's because he always planned on relapsing."

Téa nodded, sick at all of it. "Maybe," she said. "But you have to know that the moment you leave…the cops will be on the lookout for you. You won't get far. Then you'll be sent to Juvie as a delinquent as opposed to a guest."

"I know how to do things right. I'll be gone… I know how to disappear."

"You'll do this…even for just a few hours there? Or an overnight stay?"

He stood, picking the backpack up and slinging it over his shoulder. He didn't answer the charge, moving onto the deal… the bend in the tale to his coming home right away. "Do you honestly think he'll go to some long-term program? I mean…come on…get real. I'm not coming home tonight, or tomorrow, or the next day…" He huffed, adjusting the pack.

Téa put her hands on his shoulders, shaking them a little for emphasis. "Yes, you will come home tonight or tomorrow morning," she said. "Because if he doesn't want to go voluntarily, he'll be taken there."

Jed's eyes brightened some, "You can do that?"

"I have friends too, you know, big husky friends. He'll get there."

The momentary brightness faded. "Even if he does… he won't stay."

"Hey," she said gently, "you coming home isn't dependent on his sticking out the program… it's dependent on him getting there… and staying away from you."

She saw the indecision on his face. Despite the theft and the idea that he should run to save himself, he didn't really want to do it. He needed a solid reason to not do what had become reflex. He looked around his room and Téa hoped he was taking note of all his things. She understood that this was the first real home he'd had in what must have felt like forever. And the most obvious indication of it was his possessions.

He had told them in therapy that buying things, letting Todd and Téa buy him things, was new to him. Since he was around nine or ten he stopped acquiring stuff. He had developed a habit of non-acquisition because he'd never stay at home long enough to use anything. Now, there was his fancy phone, fancy Bluetooth speakers, a bookshelf full of books, a high-end computer… and there were lots of clothes in the closet, more than he'd ever had. He even had pictures on his desk. Pencils and pens and new video games and college guides were there too. The coup de gras was a poster on the wall of a local band he liked with show tickets tacked on.

He had been living a real life, one which had been painstakingly culled out of the emotional abuse he'd endured, countless losses, ravaged love, and the fire that burned inside of him, a fire which had brought him to Llanview in the first place. His hazel-colored eyes glistened with indecision.

She asked, "What exactly are you afraid of about the facility?"

Scratching his head, he gazed at Téa for some moments, finally admitting, "I'm afraid of being left there. Forgotten."

Téa's eyes watered and she reached for him, pulling him into her arms as tightly as she could. She held him, saying, "I will not forget you. I will not rest, Jed, until you're out of there and back home. Here. With me. This is your HOME. It's more yours than Todd's right now. Do you understand?"

She could tell he was weeping…it was such a struggle for him to believe in his importance as a person, that he mattered to anyone. This was the highest hurdle for him and something that always brought him down. And it was how Todd's abuse of drugs, and abuse of him, affected him. To Jed, it spoke loudly of him being insignificant.

After some moments, he sighed, sticking his hands deep into his pockets, "Okay, I'll go to Juvie."

Téa looked at him, smiling, "Oh Jed, oh thank god. You're going to be fine. We're going to be fine."

"And him?" Jed's whole person darkened at the question.

Not taking her eyes off his, she shook her head. "Doesn't matter. We are what we have to focus on."

"Yeah…I guess."

Jed put the backpack down and dug out the cash. Kept a hundred. Just in case he'd need it. He tossed the rest on the bed and Téa shook her head at it. Not at Jed's taking it but that Todd even had it. That sneaky bastard kept cash around so he could make buys of heroin.

It terrified her.

As Jed and Téa moved towards the stairs, Téa peeked into Todd's bedroom. She saw he lay still, his face turned away from the door. Jed didn't look… kept walking. Téa assumed Jed thought Todd was just sleeping. She wasn't sure how he'd feel if he knew the truth, that Todd was tied to the bed. Jed had the love-hate thing down to a science when it came to Todd—she could imagine him getting a little bent out of shape at something that appeared so punishing. Even if he wanted him punished. She prayed he'd not decide he needed to say goodbye… and was relieved when he hit the stairs without even a glance back.

Once downstairs, Jed plopped on the couch and flipped on the television to wait. Téa picked up the telephone to call Tim and Viki. To her incalculable but hidden frustration, neither were around. She left urgent messages for both. She wanted to call his sponsor but when she searched for the number, she couldn't find it. She could have sworn she'd put it right by the telephone…and in her purse. But it was oddly missing from both places. Sneaky bastard. She was sure Todd had swiped it off the desk and picked it out of her purse. God, he had a way.

"Damn it," she cursed to herself.

Mere minutes later, the police showed up with Kathy Grant, the social worker, in tow. She was a lively woman, young and pretty and kind. Téa was relieved Jed hadn't gotten a burn-out to work with which was usually the case thanks to the heavy workload imposed on county employees.

"Well, let's get a move-on," Kathy said, her hair in braids and swinging with her movement across the floor to Jed. "I assume Ms. Delgado-Manning explained to you that we're all going to work really hard at getting you home as soon as possible?"

Jed nodded, "Yeah. I'm a little worried, though. My dad…he's…"

"Now, now…none of that. We're all going to think positively! Not a worry at all." Kathy patted him on the back as one of the police officers picked up his backpack and searched it. He smiled at Jed, winking at him. They were terribly sweet and gentle and Téa said a quick prayer of thanks.

"Don't worry, kid," the cop said, "I spent some time there myself… I'll have to tell you some of the secrets of the place on our way over."

Jed's eyes watered and he looked over at Téa who smiled at him assuredly. He sniffled and rubbed his nose, trying to cover up his sensitivity, as the officer handed him his backpack.

Téa went and hugged Jed, saying softly, "Remember what I said. You will not be left there. I love you." He barely looked at her and she felt a traitor despite all the good sentiment, all the attempts at uplifting broken spirits.

She had been... obscured.

She watched stoically as the group left, Jed walking with his head up and a bit of a swagger, and when she closed the door, once the elevator doors shut, she cried quietly at having lost a battle thanks to Todd. God, she prayed Jed would behave himself.

Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself for a long day, and possibly a long night. She hoped for the cavalry to come but wasn't sure Todd would give her time for them to arrive.

He was going to run if he had the chance. He was on his way back to the streets.


Todd hadn't changed positions from when Téa looked in on him earlier. He wasn't moving and faced away from the door. He hadn't managed to get out of the restraints. She ambled over to the side of the bed and he glanced up at her, his expression plain… unrevealing.

"Are you okay?" Téa planned on looking for the drugs but wanted to make sure Todd wasn't losing his mind. She didn't want to torture him unnecessarily. "I'd untie you, but I worry you'll hurt me if you see me finding heroin and throwing it away."

"Please don't throw it away," he said thinly.

Well, now she knew. He definitely had more heroin in the room. What a sneaky bastard.

With his whole body, with his eyes, he begged her—he twisted in the bindings, bent his knees…hunched over… groaned. The need was evident, all-consuming. He repeated, "Please… please… Téa …please don't throw it away… you can't do that to me."

The idea that his stash would be tossed was obviously unbearable. Téa was uneasy. He tugged at the ties and she could see they had loosened. It wouldn't be long and he'd be out. She had no idea how aggressive he might get—but she more than knew his potential. In bed on one of their nights together, at the peak of their tryst, he pulled her wrists above her head to keep her still as he thrust inside of her. He did it spontaneously. He didn't ask her if it was okay, he didn't tease the idea of it. The most frightening part was the strength he showed when he did it. There was no possibility of getting out of that hold he had on her. It was… unsettling.

He seemed weak now. She tightened the black nylons…and he groaned painfully.

"I have to do this," she said.

First place she searched was the bathroom. Not much searching needed. As soon as she walked in, there it all was. A needle on the floor next to a latex strap, an overturned plastic cup, and a cotton ball. Blood on the tiles and vomit in the toilet. She flushed. Outside the open cupboard was a baggy with five or six new syringes. Nearby was an abandoned rubber balloon… she assumed it was the heroin. As she thought, he had only used a small amount.

Because, of course.

A small amount would ease the symptoms. Would allow him to take a shower and hold a conversation with Téa, with Jed. Todd Manning, her "newish" husband, editor-in-chief of the Sun, father to Starr and Jed, brother to Viki… had every intention to continue using while living here and living his very normal life. He planned on becoming a maintenance heroin user. She had to breathe through a spike of anger.

My GOD.

She carefully gathered everything and placed them on the counter. She searched the cupboards and found another tiny balloon. She emptied all the remaining heroin into the toilet to the tune of Todd's groans and wounded cries.

"Please, please, please…why did you do that? Oh god… god… I'm dying…"

Emotion was breaking through… and it was the loss of his drugs that did it. Forget Jed's getting picked up by cops or his suffering… no… only the drugs could prod him. The loss was near-electrical. If she wasn't so horrified, or so angry, Téa could have cried too…it just killed her to hear him.

"Is there any more?"

His pitch changed to one of lightness and he sped up his delivery. "No…no…no…nothing, that was it. I swear to God…that was it. That was all she wrote…yup…fat lady sung on that one…you can untie me now…please, please, please…"

"I'm sure you're lying. You had big goddamn plans."

"No, no…you're done… please untie me. Please, Téa …I hate it, I hate being tied up…it scares me, it really scares me…" He mewled like a cat. "Ohhhh please, untie me…bad things, so many bad things…. they're right here… up so close to me…please…"

Trying not to pay attention to him, she went to his closet and searched through every shelf, every box… with Todd now trying to bargain with her, repeatedly saying she was wasting her time, that there wasn't anything else.

"Come on, Téa …I wouldn't lie, I'd tell you if there was more, I swear to you…because… you know, because I'm really trying hard here… come on… please, please… and if you let me go, we'll go to the hospital… I'll do it today… I swear to God… just… untie me…"

"The problem is, you already blew it. You told me there was more."

When she clearly wasn't stopping the foraging he switched gears and started to whimper about being tied up, claiming he was losing it. Téa continued her search. She rifled through the pockets of his pants in the closet, digging into them, poking through his shirts. She found some duffel bags and went through them, too. Peeked in every one of the shoes. Nothing was there.

She then started in on his dresser… with Todd switching gears yet again… going back to his pleading. He was unrecognizable in this mad desperation. She ignored him though, probing the drawers, the little boxes he kept full of trinkets from Starr, from other things. She came across an artsy-looking Polaroid of him and Brandy with her writing on the back of it—it said, "Sailing on an ocean, love, Brandy." They appeared to be sitting on a ratty sofa but it didn't look like the place Téa had seen. Brandy was close to the camera, close to the edge with her head tilted in playful laughter and Todd was sunk back, looking out from behind her. Just like him to not smile, to display a kind of muted pain, pain dulled by the powdered princess. Téa wondered who took it. It had a kind of style. She wondered mostly why he kept it. She glanced at him… and couldn't help but think of his life with Brandy. She made herself stop because those thoughts made her weak. Putting it aside, she moved on.

And hit pay-dirt in the back of one of the drawers, heroin bags, two, tucked into one of the boxes next to a letter from Starr.

"Jesus, Todd…you could at least separate the two notions…"

"Fuck! Téa! Please don't, don't, don't…no, Téa... why, why…" He moaned agonizingly as she dumped the powdered drug down the toilet. She figured he'd probably cry if he was less high.

She looked through the armoire, finding nothing, leaving the side tables to his bed…and the bed itself. When she approached, he kicked at her…trying to stop her.

Now he was getting angry.

"You hurt me and I call the cops," she cautioned, making every effort not to sound fragile. Trying to be as tough as she could. He chuckled at first, but it faded…

"Yeah? Go ahead…and I'll report you for false imprisonment, kidnapping, assault, and attempted murder, you bitch, you evil, motherfucking bitch!" He shook with anxiety, with sheer desperation to get out and get to his stash. "Let me go, you…you cunt…"

"My goodness…listen to you. Bringing out the big guns. What happened to the scared little boy I tied up, huh?"

"Fuck off…just…fuck off." He turned away and started working the nylon strips, yanking at them, twisting his hands. He was breathing hard and perspiring. She could see his muscles flexing with effort at tearing the ties. Téa was getting anxious that neither Tim nor Viki were calling back. She had an animal bound to a bed and it wasn't going to be long before he'd get out. If he did manage to escape, she'd have to call the police… and she didn't want to. She didn't want him to go through the torture of jail and all that garbage only to end up where he should have gone in the first place, a residence-type drug rehabilitation program.

Hurriedly, Téa searched the night table, finding nothing. She ran her hands along the underside of the mattress…near the bottom…and moved up the other side. It was clear… it seemed. His arms were longer than hers so certainly he could have shoved the drugs way under. She then checked the top drawer of the second night table…and taped beneath were two small packages of what had to be more heroin.

"What were you thinking, Todd? Huh? My god… did you clean out the state of Pennsylvania?!"

"Shut up! Just…shut UP! What do you know?! Oh…guess what? You don't know shit because you're too perfect…just too fucking perfect!"

To Téa's shock, he'd gotten one hand free and when Tea tried to grab his hand to retie it, he easily twisted out of her hold and grabbed her hair so hard she gasped.

"Gotcha," he rumbled.

"Let go of me, you bastard!" She was panicking and prayed like hell for some kind of intervention.

"Not on your fucking life…"

He scooted up the bed, pulling a struggling Téa with him and managed to get to his knees. He had no choice but to let go of her and when he did, he did it harshly, pushing her off the bed. He then tried to untie the other nylon stocking. Téa immediately opened the bottom portion of the night table, hurrying even more so now. She noticed Todd looking at her and she knew he definitely had more drugs. His desperation was palpable and she had to rush… but she was scared shitless because she was no match for him physically. She came up with nothing though, startling when Todd yelled angrily—except when she looked at him, she realized he yelled because he couldn't untie the strip… Téa had knotted it too tightly and he didn't have the dexterity to do it in his current state.

She sighed with relief for the moment.

With reddened eyes, he shook his head…hopelessly, "Why are you doing this to me?" He begged of her…his whole being a mess of hurt. "You don't understand."

She held the packages in her pants pocket, unsure if he had been paying attention… but not wanting to aggravate the situation by running to the bathroom.

"I'm trying to help you," she said.

He laughed sadly, "Some kinda help, Delgado." He looked so tired, setting back against the headboard. The heroin's effects on him were mind-blowing to Téa. Mere hours, a "small" amount… and he'd already taken on the pallor of drug abuse that he'd had before. It was as if the sickness had been merely dusted over, hidden just beneath the surface. It showed her that he hadn't been truly clean, that methadone was just another replacement drug. In this one instant, Téa changed her mind about the program. He needed to get off everything.

Téa perched on the edge of the bed, watching him the way one would watch a tiger in an insecure cage. He kept his eyes on the black nylon stocking Téa had tied him up with. When he turned to her, she expected him to say something painful, or pained, or nasty… she thought maybe he'd plead with her, or attempt to bargain for his release.

Instead, in a cheerless voice, Todd said, "Don't think I've ever seen you wear these. Girls wear these with garters, don't they?"

Téa chuckled, covering her face, pulling her hair back… "Yes…and I was saving them for a special event."

"Like what?"

"I don't know… a dinner in an exclusive restaurant… or dancing half-naked for you on the breakfast table."

A smile began to break out across his lips… but it was shut down quickly as he leaned his head back.

"Delgado…you're so far away from that breakfast table. You're scared…you're covered with fear… like mud… scared of the drugs, scared for Jed, scared for me, for yourself. The worst… is you're scared of me. I don't blame you."

"You pushed me off the bed like trash, you pulled my hair."

"Like I said, I don't blame you."

He triggered something inside of her and she almost felt like crying. Fear hadn't always been a part of her life and she knew her fearlessness is what drew Todd to her originally. The fact that she wasn't afraid of him in spite of his past, in spite of the torments he'd put her through. But when she looked at herself now, she realized the wall guarding against fear…had been broken down. He'd blown it to bits. Kapow… as he'd say.

She nodded… "I'm deathly afraid."

He rubbed his tied-up wrist and he reminded Téa of a creature caught in one of those traps with metal teeth that slams itself closed on unwarned paws. He rubbed his wrist where the binding dug into his skin. A need to comfort Todd overwhelmed Téa. She never could handle his vulnerability… even at his worst.

"Will you hurt me," she said, "if I sit closer to you?"

"I won't hurt you."

"You won't grab me or pull me…or threaten me?"

"No."

She moved in on the bed… and he stayed still. She knew she shouldn't trust his word. But she wanted to believe she could make a difference.

After a moment, he whispered, "Touch me."

"Why?"

"I need to feel real, like I'm not something monstrous…repulsive…or scary…or ugly."

"But you are scary. You're a bomb waiting to explode. You're waiting for me to be weak so you can tear past me, to get to your drugs and shoot up. How can I not be scared of you?"

His eyes watered, shining. "Tell me…wouldn't you do the same? Fight tooth and nail, Téa, to be happy? Isn't that what you've been doing all this time? Since we first met?"

"I'm not fighting for a kind of happiness that could kill me…"

"Aren't you? Look who you think you can be happy with… me." He laughed bitterly. "Do you know how many times I nearly killed Brandy? Do you know…how many times someone has died because of me? Loving me, Téa, is a danger. That's what the judge told you today, isn't it?"

Téa said nothing. She didn't want to hear this. It recalled every warning she ever got about him from people who told her they loved her. Carlotta probably would have tied her up, too, to keep her from Todd. He didn't let her close her eyes to him…he reached for her, turning her face towards him.

"Do you know how often I wanted to dip her beneath the bath water she loves so much… and keep her there… how I wanted to strangle her in her sleep?"

She knew what was coming next. He almost didn't have to say it.

"Do you know how often I fucked her while wanting to kill her… do you know what that did to me? The thought of it."

She could see what it did to him on his face, she could hear the blending of sex and violence in his voice. She felt it… when he had held her wrists above her head.

"Stop it…"

"Téa, I liked to put my hands around her throat when we fucked because it made me feel like I could do just that. Kill her. You ask me to talk about her and I think it's because you think we were romantic or something. We weren't. We aren't."

"Jesus Christ…"

"Do you know we killed Phillip? I strangled him with a leather cuff… and Brandy stabbed him. I can still smell the blood."

"Oh Todd…"

"So look at me and tell me… death isn't a possibility with me? And yet you claw and fight for our life because you love me…because…you feel a kind of peace when we're with each other, a kind of relief. You'd tear past anyone trying to stop you from reaching that place, maybe even kill a thing. Especially now. Now that we're… together."

She gasped a little at him, acting shocked. Galled. He snorted back at her, a short nasty huff.

"What, Delgado? Don't like what I'm saying?"

"You're twisting things to justify using, to justify a willingness to hurt me, to hurt Jed, to get to heroin. There's no comparison between my wanting us happy… together… and heroin! And your wanting to kill Brandy…you know that's different. I don't believe for one second you want me dead. With her…you wanted her dead…because you saw yourself in her. It was a suicidal thing..."

He laughed, his head knocking purposefully back against the headboard—she frustrated him. "You have no idea what goes through my head…don't be so goddamned arrogant. And I could easily say you're fuckin' suicidal in your pursuit of ME, of US."

Téa hugged her knees, bowing her head onto them, hiding…was she so wrong?

"You're telling me you want me dead? That being together is a risk to my life?"

"I'm telling you, don't assume anything… why I'd want Brandy dead… or what I see when I look at her or you… or that you don't hurt me. Maybe you're just another form of heroin."

"How do I hurt you?"

"You're hurting me, now! You've tied me up, you deprive me. Everyone is so willing to damage me, to violate me, just so I can fit into their world, your world. God, Delgado… are you so fucking blind? Can't you see that?"

"No," Téa wanted to cry, but she didn't dare. How could he? How could he try civilize heroin, to give it any kind of validation. And what… comparing himself to it? That he was her drug? That she was heroin? How could he trivialize what they had? She stopped herself…

… because heroin wasn't trivial to Todd. It was complex, it was a carefully formulated chemical solution of love and hate, it was his salvation…it was his hell. Heroin wasn't trivial at all.

She groaned into her hands. She was crazy to try to make any sense of anything he said. "Todd… this is—"

"You hurt me, Téa, by depriving me of peace. You hurt me by wanting me 'well'… you hurt me by loving me."

"You know what, I shouldn't but…tell me exactly how my love hurts you? I get this literal definition of tying you up… but love? Isn't that what you want? Love? Peace? Happiness? A real life? A family?"

He groaned and tipped back…so aggravated… "It hurts…because it reminds me of all that I can't give you! It reminds me of all the damage that's already been done. It holds up a mirror to me… and I see everything that's awful about me." He breathed in deeply, "Don't you get it? I can't give you peace! I can't give you happiness! Love and family with me are a fucking DELUSION. You are chasing the dragon, man, spilling your own blood, scarring yourself, over and over, for something that doesn't fucking exist. And in the end, you might just end up dead. At least with dope, the high is fucking real, it's reliable… and it doesn't pretend to not be dangerous. I am not fooled. I KNOW dope can kill me. Unlike you, Téa, who denies the same kind of risk. I am dangerous to you and you deny it worse than the biggest heroin addicts out there."

Téa sat on folded legs, on her hands. Stunned really. She had to think. She swallowed hard. Voices pounded in her head. A million warnings. A punch that knocked her unconscious. The way he pulled her hair and tossed her off the bed. His absolutely cruel rejection of her for years. She knew his minute-by-minute potential for abuse, up close and personal.

Any yet…

"Our happiness is real," she said. "I feel it when we're with each other and I know you do too. It is reliable. We can trust it. I've seen it on you in your smiles, in your laughter… I've felt it in your kisses, in our love-making, in your talks with Jed… with Starr…"

"Your love makes me want to die."

She gasped again, a pained noise that came from the depth of her.

"No, amor, no… love makes you want to live, it's supposed to give you a beautiful reflection of yourself. It's all so twisted for you!" Now she cried. "Todd…how did you get it so wrong? Oh god…god…I don't… I can't… no…no… why can't you—"

She stopped. Just stopped. He was crying. Tears ran down his face and got lost in the beard he wore. His face did not show the pain but his light eyes did. They stabbed into her deeper and more efficiently than any needle could.

She sighed and hugged her knees for long moments. She then took a breath and unfolded herself to move closer to him. She studied the tears and he continued to look at her, into her. She ran a fingertip over his cheek and tasted the salt of the tear.

"He broke you," she said. "Peter broke you in ways we don't even fully understand yet. And every cut he gave worsened with every year you lived, with every failure by anyone who tried to help."

She reached to him again, and caressed his shoulder, the tense muscle straining against the stocking that tied him to the bed. A delusion maybe, but he was like a lashed lion. He could not really hurt her while tied this way. She supposed his one free hand was a bringer of harm. Maybe. She gazed at his relaxed body, at the way he breathed, the shape of everything on him as he lay on the pillows.

He was never harmless. He was always going to be risky.

A danger. She did not deny it. He was wrong in that.

She ran fingers across his chest, lightly touching his nipples, knowing how sensitive they were. How touching them affected him. He shuddered predictably. She ran fingers down his free arm to his hand and his fingers. And when she looked at him, back at his face, she could see a longing there, such a softness, such a vulnerability, and it amazed her that he could be so affected by her, by the attention of another human being, despite all he said and claimed and believed. She ran her hands across his chest again… and moved to his arm tied at the wrist… so scarred… there.

"I see you as beautiful… and precious… and not ugly… and not monstrous… and no, I don't see you as a scary person. Not inside… not you."

He parted his lips in a silent intake of breath… as if he could breathe in what she said… as if it was possible to be loved and not suffer from it. As if he would not be failed by her. Téa leaned in and placed her lips on his. He was hot again… his skin heated by his war with everything around him. She touched his face and he closed his eyes and she pressed again her lips to his.

"Does that hurt?" she asked. "Don't you feel your own beauty? Your own specialness? Is everything I say and do, so futile? So empty?"

"No," he whispered, "no…no…"

She wiped away his stubborn tears, tears that came against his will. She kissed them as they fell onto his lips, as they slipped down further. Kissed them away. She kissed his neck below his ear, kissing towards his shoulder … and she felt him bend to her… his lips touching her hair.

She knew the risk she was taking.

She then wondered if he was right, if she was just like him…willing to risk death for a little peace, for a little bit of happiness…

Was he her heroin?

To be continued...