Never a Hero by Marie Sexton

Author:Marie Sexton [Sexton, Marie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2013-10-07T16:00:00+00:00

I woke feeling like I’d been zipped into a mummy-style sleeping bag designed for a ten-year-old. It took me a second to figure out why I couldn’t move. Bert lay on top of the blankets on one side of my legs, and Bonny on the other, pinning me in. On the other side of the bed, Betty lay stretched across the pillow. I didn’t see Nick.

“They’re not supposed to sleep on the bed,” Nick said from behind me. “But they do it anyway.”

I turned to find him sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. Normally it was the catchall for my laundry, but he’d pushed the stack of clothing to the floor. It was dark enough in the room to hide his expression from me, but not to obscure the fact that he was fully dressed.

“Sneaking away in the night?” I meant it as a joke, but he didn’t laugh.

“Owen, we need to talk.”

The weight of his words and the solemn timbre of his voice scared me. My chest felt heavy with dread. “No.”

“Yes.”

I sat up, suddenly unable to bear being pinned in by the dogs. I pulled my legs free of the covers and stood up. I felt vulnerable being naked in front of him when he was dressed, so I pulled a pair of boxers out of my drawer and donned them before turning to face him across the dark room. “I don’t want to talk, because I know what you’re going to say.”

“And what is that?”

“That it shouldn’t have happened. That it can’t happen again.”

He didn’t answer, but his silence was more damning than any words.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

“It was a mistake.”

“No! Goddammit, it was not a mistake!”

He sighed. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right, I don’t. One minute you’re pulling me close, and the next you’re pushing me away. You tell me you want me, but as soon as I respond, you say I can’t have you. What am I supposed to think?”

“You have every right to be mad, Owen. And confused. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I let things get out of hand.”

“Well, I’m not!” I was embarrassingly close to tears and I fought them back. “I’m not sorry!”

“Owen—”

“Is it me?”

“What?”

“Is it me? Am I the problem?”

“No.” No hesitation. He said the word with a quiet emphasis that made it difficult to doubt him, and yet I had no other explanation.

“You say you’re attracted to me, but the truth is, you can’t stand the idea of being with a cripple.”

“That’s not it.”

“You want to touch me, but you hate it when I touch you.”

His laugh was harsh and bitter. “Is that really what you think?”

“What other explanation is there?”

He leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “It’s not that I don’t want you to touch me, Owen. It’s that if I let you touch me, I’ll lose control, even more than I did tonight.”

“Good!”

“It’s not good—”

“I want you to lose control like that more often.”

“You have no idea what’s going on here. You have no idea how dangerous this is.

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