Chapter 14

As I looked into Jackson's eyes, I knew what I felt for him, and I knew what he felt for me. He slowly intertwined his fingers with mine and stroked my cheek lightly. I leaned into this touch and brushed my lips against his palm. In response, he placed his lips against my forehead.

"Aren't you glad that you came clean with your cousin and that we don't have to hide anymore?" He asked, his lips brushing against my skin, sending chills down my spine.

I nodded my head, increasing the chills. "Yes. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders."

"I knew it would."

"Know it all."

He pulled back slightly, and we locked eyes again.

"Jackson," here we go again, "as much as I'd like to pick up where that kiss left off, I think we should talk."

"Talk? I thought you thought that was a bad thing."

"And it very well may be, but I think it's time you know the truth about my biological family."

He sighed. "You can tell me anything that you want to, and nothing that you don't. It won't change how I feel about you."

"God I hope that's true. Come on." I began to lead him to the couch. I was initially planning on taking him to the bed room to talk because it would give us more privacy, but I was afraid that if I went in there with him I would become too distracted with other wants, and I would lose my courage.

"Where's Annabelle?" I asked as I sat down on the couch and noticed that he didn't have to remove her.

"I forgot her at the house." He sounded so, disappointed? "It's been a really off day for me. What with everything that happened yesterday, and worrying about you all night, I just haven't been myself today."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Just being here with you now is making everything better."

"Well, I hope Annabelle will forgive me. I'd hate for her to hold a grudge against you because of me."

"I'm sure I can make her understand. We have too much history together to let one accident come between us."

"Hmm, good because you make an excellent team."

Jackson smiled. "Right, well I believe you were going to tell me…"

"About my family." I finished his sentence. "I don't know where to start."

"The beginning is always good."

"Of course, the beginning, why didn't I think of that? Hmm, let's see…" I paused as I tried to think of a good place to start my story.

"It's ok Amy. You can take as long as you need to, and remember that anything you don't want to talk about, you don't have to."

He was so sweet and sincere. He took both of my hands in his and kissed them lightly, giving me the strength I needed. I could do this. As long as I had him, I could do anything.

I took a deep breath and began.

"I moved in with the Johnson's when I was eight because they were the closest relatives I had. Aunt Suzie was, or rather is my mother's baby sister and both of their parents were dead and my father's parents, well I don't know anything about them. Very little is known about my dad, all of his records were falsified.

"Aunt Suzie was no doubt the pride and joy of her family and my mother was the little black sheep. You know, Aunt Suzie graduated high school, went to college, fell in love with my Uncle Paul, got married, and started a family the good old fashion way. My mother, on the other hand, got tangled in drugs, marijuana, cocaine, heroin, ecstasy she's probably tried it all. And she dropped out of high school when she was a junior, ran away from their Maryland home and made her way to a little town in North Carolina known as Hampstead, where the police station downtown is nestled between the courthouse and the ABC store. She met up with my father somewhere along the way and either out of convenience or love, though I doubt it, they got married, had my brother and ten years later had me. I was a mistake to them; they never planned on having me, and they made it quite clear. Often times they were all so high that they forgot to make dinner and I was left to fend for myself, mind you I was only seven when that life ended. So a two year old finding dinner for herself is like tipping over the trashcan and eating old pizza covered in potato chips.

"My father was very abusive to my mother, both physically and mentally, but I guess she was used to guys treating her like that because she never left him. He would smack her around all the time and when he was really bad he would force himself on her. I could hear her screams and her protests from their room; they kept me up at night. And then when I was about five and half I guess, he started coming to me when he grew sick of her."

"Amy," Jackson could barely speak, his jaw was clenched closed.

"If I stop now I'll never be able to finish and I want, no I need you to know."

He nodded for me to continue, his muscles tensing as he held my hands a little tighter. I took another deep breath and steadied my voice; I wasn't even to the worst of it yet.

"My brother, Frankie, was a chip off the old block. He started doing drugs when he was young; they were easy for him to find because they were just lying around the house all the time. He dropped out of school the moment he was old enough to do so, and like my father, Frankie would slap both my mother and myself around. They were somehow always careful though because they never left any visible marks, so no one at school ever knew what was going on at home.

"Jackson, please don't feel any pity towards my mother because she deserved everything that she got. She would beg for my father or for Frankie to take their frustrations out on me, to spare her and beat me instead. She never once showed concern for me or tried to protect me like a mother should. I think maybe I reminded her too much of her sister; I always looked more like my Aunt Suzie than I did my mom."

I paused to catch my breath and Jackson reached up to gently wipe away my tears.

"That's not all is it?" he asked. I shook my head no. "Then whenever you're ready to continue Amy, I'll be ready to listen." He pulled my head down to his chest to let it lay there while he stroked my hair. I let myself go for a minute or two, the tears flowing freely down my cheeks soaking his shirt. When I pulled back, he dried my eyes.

"I was Frankie's favorite thing to torture. Every chance he got he would terrorize me. He would destroy all my toys, not that I ever really had any, kick me around, pull at my hair…anything to make my life more of a living hell than it already was.

"I mentioned earlier that the three of them were nearly always high and that there were plenty of drugs just lying around the house, well their favorite was methamphetamine. They made it themselves from over the counter medications. They ran a meth lab in our garage and they consumed about half the product and sold the other half. Whenever they had a buyer come over they would always lock me in a closet. Frankie would bang on the surrounding walls, making them vibrate and making things fall off the shelves above me. I would beg and plead for him to stop, but the louder I screamed the harder he laughed. I tried to tell myself that it was just Frankie, that the walls weren't moving on their own accord, but to a young and vulnerable mind…being locked in a tiny closet with the walls moving and things falling from above you, it felt like the walls were closing in on me."

"Hence the reason for your claustrophobia."

"Yea. I know it's silly now that it was just a childhood fear. And I try to tell myself that it's nothing, that it's just an elevator and the walls weren't, couldn't just spontaneously close in on you, that it would go against the laws of physics, that I'm smarter than that and I should know better. But, it's like something inside me just snaps and I lose all sense of reality. And I can't help it."

"It's not silly Amy. Everyone has things they're afraid of."

"Yea, but everyone freaks out like I do."

"You've never seen me around a spider." I couldn't help the small smile that flickered across my face. "Ah, there's the smile I adore so much." My smile grew a little wider.

"So tell me, does convincing yourself that you're alone in a large meadow really work in calming you down?" He asked.

"To an extent." I replied. "But yesterday I wasn't alone."

"Oh, and just who was with you, might I ask?"

"You were there. You sort of cradled me in your arms and told me that you would never leave me, and I believed you."

His hand quickly cupped my cheek. "And I'm still right here Amy. I'm not leaving until you tell me to, and I really hope that you never do."

I leaned into his hand. "Thank you, for being here and more so for staying."

"So, how did you end up escaping from hell?" He asked after a moment of silence.

"The meth lab. It exploded one day. They had a buyer come over and somebody knocked something over, or mixed something too soon, chemistry is very temperamental. The whole fire department came out and the cops. Frankie tried to run but they caught him. A firefighter found me locked in a closet. And after being poked, prodded, and tested for drugs I was handed over to child services and sent to live in the orphanage until they could track down my relatives. Aunt Suzie came alone because Benny was still in school and Uncle Paul had to work.

"I spent my eighth birthday in the courthouse testifying against my mother and Frankie. They set up a live video feed from the Judge's chambers so that I wouldn't have to sit in front of my family. It was just me, the Judge, the DA, the court appointed defense attorneys, the stenographer, and my Aunt Suzie because at the time she was the only one I would talk to. The attorneys took turns asking me questions and I answered them. My responses were fed back to the courtroom so that the jury members could hear, my face was blacked out though. Like they didn't all know who I was anyways.

"Aunt Suzie took me back to Bartelso as soon as she was told I could leave. We didn't even wait for the end of the trial. I was sent a letter telling me of their sentences. My mother got a total of fifty years with no chance of parole; she had multiple drug charges and child endangerment charges against her. Frankie was charged with possession and received fifteen years with a chance for parole after twelve. That letter, I was showing Benny, it was about Frankie's parole. His hearing is next week; I've been told I could attend if I wanted to."

"Are you?"

"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it since I showed it to Benny, I mean, I kinda got distracted."

"Come here," Jackson stretched out his arms, inviting me in. I turned around and pressed my back against his chest; he wrapped his arms around me and held me.

"Kellie was right," he said.

"About what?"

"If I had to live that childhood, I wouldn't want to talk about it either."

"I've only ever told Benny and Kellie the whole story. Not even Aunt Suzie knows about everything that happened, if it wasn't relevant to the question they asked, I didn't offer it up."

"Thank you then, for trusting me with your secret and for letting me into such a big part of your life."

"It was easier than I thought it would be, telling you about my past. But then again, everything just seems easier with you."

"I know the feeling."

My stomach growled then.

"Someone's hungry." Jackson said. "What would you like to do?"

"I ordered pizza!" Kellie shouted from her room before stepping out. "It should be here in about ten minutes." Of course she had been listening in; I knew she would.

"Thanks Kells. Now go back to your room and leave me alone with my man."

"Well, fine then. I see how it is." Kellie stalked back into her room with a knowing smile.

I rolled over and straddled Jackson's lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he cocked an eyebrow at me.

"We have ten minutes." I said. "You know we did have a little fight yesterday, and make up sex is some of the best sex around."

"We're going to need more than ten minutes." He smirked. "You deserve a good few hours' worth." He ran his hands up my thighs at an agonizingly slow pace. "I think we should take our time, that way I can take my time attending to each one of your needs." His lips teased my collar bone as his hand moved to my inner thigh. "I'm gonna give it to you like you've never had before." He exaggerated his southern twang for me, and I bit on my lower lip.

"You keep talking like that Jackson, and I'll never let you see your friends again."

"Well, if it keeps me with you, it's well worth the trade." His lips slowly worked their way up the side of my neck and down my jaw line to my mouth. I tangled my fingers in his hair and moaned into his mouth as our kiss deepened.

"I can hear you!" Kellie shouted. "Or rather I can't hear you so that means you're up to something. Please, for the love of god, start talking again. I can't take, nor do I want these mental images."

"Arg." I growled.

"Don't worry darlin' we'll finish this soon enough. And I'm nothing if not a man of my word." Jackson said seductively, just before there was a knock on the door.