Somebody to Love (Tyler Jamison #1) - April Wilson Page 0,92
breath. “She traded her body for heroin.”
“Oh, Jesus, Ian.” He was just a little kid. “I’m sorry.”
Ian swallows hard, shaking his head as if trying to clear the memories from his head. “Before the men came over, she’d lock me in an upstairs bedroom. I realized later she was probably trying to protect me.”
He stops talking as tears track down his cheeks into his beard. I don’t say anything. I just wait to see if he’ll say more.
“Sometimes, she’d pass out after shooting up, and I’d be locked up there for hours. Sometimes it felt like days. There weren’t any lights in the room, and the window was boarded up. So at night, it was pitch black in there. I used to sit in the closet and shake until I fell asleep.”
“Is that why you leave the blinds open on your bedroom windows? So your room isn’t dark?”
Staring straight ahead at the water, he nods.
“Oh, Jesus. Ian, I’m so sorry.”
“She’d leave me boxes of dry cereal and bottles of water, but sometimes I couldn’t get the water bottles open. Or I’d run out of cereal and have nothing. She left one of those training potties for little kids for me to use.”
I watch, horrified as he shuts down right before my eyes. His expression grows flat, emotionless. The more he tells me, the less emotion he displays. I feel him distancing himself, and it scares me. Wanting to pull him back to me, I lean close and kiss his temple. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
He shakes himself. “Somebody reported her to Child Protective Services. When they came to the apartment to do a welfare check, they found her passed out on the sofa downstairs, naked and covered in semen. They found me upstairs, locked in a dark room with nothing to eat or drink. They took me away that day, and that’s when the revolving door started. She’d do rehab and sober up, and they’d let me go back, until the next time. This went on, over and over, until the state stepped in and terminated her rights. That’s when my parents took me in, and within a year, they adopted me.”
Ian wipes away the tears streaming down his cheeks. Then he stops the boat and drops anchor. As the boat rocks gently on the waves, he climbs down from the cockpit and heads to the bar on the main deck.
I follow him, at a complete loss as to how to help him. How to comfort him. I feel like a total shit for reopening all these painful memories.
He opens the fridge behind the bar and pulls out a bottle of water. He viciously unscrews the cap and guzzles half the bottle.
“Ian, I’m sorry, but I have to ask. Did any of those men ever hurt you? Did they touch you?”
He shakes his head. “No. I think that’s why she locked me upstairs, so they wouldn’t know I was there. I remember her telling me I had to be quiet like a mouse. She’d play loud music downstairs, and I think it was so no one could hear me crying.”
He’s shaking now. I take the bottle from him, setting it on the bar, and wrap him securely in my arms. “I’m so sorry.” I know the words are wholly inadequate, but I don’t know what else to say. All I can think is, Thank God those men never knew he was upstairs.
I place my hand on the back of his head and force it down onto my shoulder. I turn toward him, my mouth close to his ear, and whisper to him. “It’s okay, baby. No one can hurt you again. I won’t let them.” And then I think about Roy Valdez, and my stomach drops like a stone. Someone almost did hurt him, worse than anything imaginable.
My words are little comfort, and far too late. The damage was done to him years ago. I understand him so much better now, and instead of thinking he’s insecure, I think it’s a miracle that he’s as strong and healthy as he is.
He’s still shaking, and I’m sure it will take a while for those painful memories to fade once more into the background.
I kiss him. “I think you’re incredibly brave and strong. Your mom was in a very bad situation, but it sounds like she did the best that she could to protect you. She loved you, Ian. Even if she couldn’t take care of you properly, she loved you.”