Chapter Fourteen -- Self-preservation

My head ached, and my stomach lurched-- the dinner conversation scrolled through my brain. All the secrets, all the half truths, all to protect me. Now I had to conceive of a way to protect those I loved, or they'd end the same as all I'd lost. 

I slid down farther into hot water of the big old claw-foot tub. Relax. I must relax. 

I hated getting cleaned up and leaving Sid, even for a moment. Steaming all that jumbled and confused emotions out of my head, helped. I had to think.

I didn't want to leave Sid in this house-- I didn't want to take him with me. I didn't think anywhere was safe anymore. 

Not for him. Not for me. 

I plunged my head under then buoyed up. I shook my hair, spraying water on the wall, then sank back down. I hoped the womb like comfort of a bath would help me gain some clarity. What to do? How to figure out this riddle?

Can I save him. Can I save us?

Blood. They needed mine to derive the serum. The Community and people like Shackleton took it from immortals, harvesting us like some crop. I was some new exotic strain with healing properties.  Why would the power to heal be so important to someone who could live forever? Shackleton and the Community weren't benevolent; they wouldn't bestow this gift on mankind. 

Shackleton implied he hated his flat existence. Was that all? He wanted to feel? This was a hell of a lot more than curiosity on Shackleton and the Community's part. 

Power and control. Isn't that what most men like Shackleton wanted? The steam from the tub loosened the jam of information cluttering my mind. I sorted out the pieces I needed-- all the parts-- the Community, power and the whole idea of eternal life. As far as I could tell, there wasn't much difference between Shackleton and the Community except that the Community was subtle and more polite. In the end, I believed they essentially wanted the same-- power and control.

What good was living forever if you got to hide? Maybe bestowing a healing touch would get them what they desired.

Obviously, mortal people would envy and distrust those who live forever. That was why these immortals kept themselves secret. They weren't indestructible. Exposed as immortals, they were probably killed and hunted in the past-- at least that's want I assumed from the comments made at dinner. 

People fear what they don't understand. 

What better way to gain the average man's trust than to be able to give some gift in return?

Cheating death. Yes, maybe my blood might help others cheat death! Maybe that's what they wanted from me. A chance to come out in the open. 

It would be the immortal's version of coming out of the closet. 

That had to be part of it.

Or was there some other power I was missing or didn't have yet? 

Power. How ironic that I felt so powerless when they sought me for the power they wanted. 

I slipped under the hot water, head and all. Eyes wide open, watching water bubbles float up and burst as the reached the surface. Above the bathroom loomed, distorted and foreign. Swirling opaque ribbons of water, bending my perception-- they paralleled my life. Dreamlike. I held my breath. Why? Why hold it? I can't die. My lungs burned as the last bit of oxygen left me. Stay under. After all I can't drown, I can't drown.  Brutally forcing myself to stay below. Being buried alive under water was no different than under ground except you can see light. It crushed all the same. I imagined if I felt no pain, I'd feel no fear. 

Was that good or bad?

I panicked, gulping water. I broke the surface, choking. Not sure if I'd won or lost. 

I got up and dried off, then went upstairs. Our band had another gig tonight, and I had to be ready. 

Sid wanted to come, but Glenda had advised against it. I was worried about Shackleton, too. But Sid was convinced he was safe in public. He'd spent a good hour convincing Glenda he should go. In the end, she'd given up. 

Even though I felt my aunt and uncle wouldn't harm Sid, I wasn't sure how safe he was. And considering what I learned from Trent about others like myself, Sid was in a Hell of a lot of danger. 

Then there was Shackleton and his test. 

Having Trent and my uncle for body guards tonight made me more nervous than relaxed-- not knowing their true motives. Worse, they knew about dangers I couldn't even conceive. Now my stomach was in knots thinking of all that was said and unsaid at the dinner table. 

Becoming famous, my music-- all unimportant. After last night, I should be jazzed to play again. Now-- I all could think of was Sid.

He came up to the bedroom while I was trying to finish getting dressed. Problem was I'd have to wear the same black leather pants, blue jeans or these ugly red leather ones that Lynn gave to me as a joke along with that last bag of hand-me-down clothes. John fucking insisted that I wear leather pants on stage. He thinks the women come just to see my ass in tight leather. Personally, I wondered about him sometimes. 

I was struggling into the red leather when Sid walked through the door. They were two sizes too small. I sucked in what little gut I had to zip them up, flailing around prone on the bed and yanking the zipper.

"No underwear?" he observed.

"Fuck," I said under my breath, praying I didn't snag anything valuable. 

Sid burst out laughing.

"Your face is as red as those pants."

"That's not funny," I said, struggling to stand and falling back down into the bed. "I don't care what John says, I'm not wearing these. I can't breath in them. Shit, I can't even stand; I'm being squished to death."

Sid threw a sock at me. "Oh look, you forgot to put this in the front."

"Like it'd fit! Very funny, why don't you do something useful? Throw me my jeans."

He threw me the black-leather ones instead. 

"I think you need to wear these." 

"I wore those last night."

"Since when do you care about fashion, Mister I-wear-the -same-tan-jacket-everywhere?" 

Fuck. Now was that nice? I didn't even have my lucky tan jacket anymore-- it burned in the fire. Damn.

Sid was just like John-- having a leather fetish. Me, I was in to comfort. I missed my jacket. And those old hole riddle jeans on the bed looked perfect to me. But...

Well, off with the frickin' red-leather Iron Maiden torture-device and on with the black-leather kink. If they made Sid happy-- well, why not?

I slipped them on and began fastening the buttons. 

"Your ass really does look good in those," Sid said, walking around me like he was a tiger, and I was his prey. "Problem is, I'm not the only one who's admiring it all night long, but I guess I can stand having all those eyes lusting after you as long as I get to touch what's inside when we get home."

"Shirt. I need a shirt." I stuttered.

"What about that black leather vest? It'd go nice."

"What is it with you and leather? Do you like whips, too?"

"Actually, I was going to ask you that." Sid pulled out the drawer and tossed me the black vest. "Mmm, don't see any whips. Maybe we should put that on a list along with the pioneer woman outfit?"

"You're crazy," I said, putting on the vest, and I started for the door. "Put them on the list."

Sid reached around and pinched my ass. 

"John will be pleased," he said. "The sluttier the better as far as he's concerned."

--------------------------------

With much restraint, we got to Adam's Den. Trent drove, and I spent the whole time keeping Sid's hands out of my pants. We were late. I raced to the front to talk to the crew, and Sid met up next to me, listening intently as the sound man gave us instructions. John began telling us minor play order alterations. Shit, I loved the way Sid was rubbing my neck. I closed my eyes, not listening much at all, becoming engrossed in his hands, loosening me up. 

"Thanks," I sighed. 

Almost time. Picking up our instruments... Tuning... 

I scanned the room. People lined up along the walls. No empty seats--a full house. I heard Smith's nervous slapping on his bass. Jimbo's chatter behind me made me concerned-- his drum sticks stiltedly tap, tap, tapping. He never gets hyped before a show. Seems everyone was rattled-- all worried we might not be able to top last night's performance. Les was tuning his guitar for the fourth time. At least I had Sid to distract me earlier, but now I was concerned. Worried about being worried. That's what I'm fucking best at.

I guess I needed to be Miss Cheerleader and pump them up the band like I usually do when they get down. Tonight I needed it as much as they did. Time to dust off our band's cheer. 

I stood on the edge of the stage, turned facing the band and cleared my throat.

"Which way are we goin'?!" I yelled.

"Up!" shouted John and Smith together. Jimbo and Les' heads popped up. The stage crew stopped and turned.

I waved to Alan and Lynn sitting at the front table. Then in one clean leap, I jumped off the stage landing on top of their table. I turned to the band again and cupped my hands around my mouth, hollering.

"I said... Which way are we going?" 

"Up! Up!" John and Smith yelled back. 

"And which way are we failing?!" I screamed.

"Up-ward, up-ward, up-ward!" The band chanted. Smith jumped up and down and shouting. Les hopped on one foot than the other. The chant 'up-ward, up-ward, up-ward' spread into the crowd. As soon as it reached the front doors, I leapt off the table back onto the stage.

"I think we're ready to play now, boys!" I yelled, swiping my guitar from the floor-- back to the crowd. I waved as they cheered. 

Yeah, I bet my ass did look good. 

Alan and Lynn were waving, too. I smiled back; Sid was sitting with them now. I caught Sid's eye and winked at him. He blew me a kiss. 

I noticed Trent and Lancaster seated farther back, which wasn't lost on Sid. He kept glaring back at them.

This was it. We were ready-- just a bunch of smilin' assholes, and John the biggest smilin' asshole of them all. I suspected John never went to bed last night--at least he didn't sleep. Smith danced around, giddy and giggly. 

"Hello? Tommy Tutone?" John's gravelly voice broke into the mic. "Is Jenny home?"

Les began singing. 

 Jenny, Jenny, who can I turn to?

You give me something I can hold on to.

I know you think I'm like the others before

Who saw your name and number on the wall.

Music-- the ultimate therapy. The rhythm, the vocal harmony. It pleases my soul. I needed this. 

Tonight was different than the night before. We were different; I was different. While last night was exhilarating, tonight was just plain fun. Les had the crowd singing 867- 5309 with him in the very first song. The crowd loved us, and we loved them. Nothing we played fell flat. The chemicals were mixed, and our science project was about to explode.

The first set zoomed by. I spent the whole first break, having Sid try to feel me up under the table. 

"Sid's in much better spirits tonight," said Lynn. "Last night he looked like it was the end of the world. Tonight he's on top of it." Between groping my crotch and watching Dr. Lancaster, Sid didn't seem to hear a word she said. 

"I hear it's going to snow," she said.

He massaged my cock. God, that felt good. Hard not to moan. I knew my face was getting hot. Table clothes hide a multitude of sins.

"What? You think I'm not listening?" Sid said, "--of course you're a Ho."

I pushed his hand off my lap. Not that I didn't like his attention, but I had to get up sometime.

Sid shifted his eyes to the good doctor's table again. 

"He's not here to watch his nephew; he's here to watch us," he whispered to me.

"Yeah, I noticed that too," said Lynn, overhearing. "What's up? And who's that good looking guy with him?"

"That's Trent. The guy who took the bullet for me. He's our great protector now," Sid said sarcastically. "We're staying at the Lancaster's." I kicked Sid under the table. I wished he hadn't told them that. The less they knew; the safer they'd be.

"They're there for protection? I'd think you'd want to be as far away from them and their house as possible," she remarked. "Why don't you both stay at my place?"

"No," I said sharply. "We need to stay there." 

I shifted positions, and I felt Sid's hand squeeze me again. Not fair. And I think Alan was figuring out what was up. Everyone would as soon as I stood. What the fuck did I need with a sock in my pants when I had Sid?

"Gotta go, the boys are calling," I said, blushing as I got up. Fuck, she was eye level with my crotch.

"Last night must have been a hell of a make up session," Lynn snickered.

The second set was better than the first. During the middle of the set, Trent and Lancaster invited themselves to sit with Sid, Lynn and Alan. I could tell Alan was getting pissed at Lynn for flirting with Trent. Go Lynn.

I took another swig of beer as we got ready to play our last song before break. This time I didn't want to fuck up. I played for Sid and sang "I want you to want me" and meant it. 

The last verse-- that's when I saw Shackleton watching from the front doors. I stopped. Forgot the chords. Lost my voice. Les took up the break in my void like a professional. Sid followed my eyes to Shackleton at the back of the bar. Before the last bar of the song, Sid's table was watching him. Trent stood up.

With the last note, I put down my guitar and jumped down off the stage.

"Ignore him," said Trent. "He won't try anything here. Too many witnesses."

"That's comforting," I said, pulling up the chair next to Sid. I was sweating hard, wiping my brow with the back of my hand. As I watched the back, Shackleton met my eyes, nodded, turned around and walked out the door. 

"He's gone. Just here to mess with our heads I'll bet," said Sid. I hoped he was right. 

Those few beers I had went right through me. Shit, I didn't want to leave Sid. But I had to go bad. I stood up.

"Piss break," I announced. And Sid got up to follow me. "You don't need to hold my hand. He's gone." If Shackleton was still lurking around, I wanted Sid safe with Trent and Lancaster, not me. 

Les walked up to the table to join us. I patted him on the back.  I almost introduced him as my brother to Lynn and Alan, but I thought better of it. Not smart to let them know anything more. They knew too much already.

I went back the bathroom, getting more than the average high fives, handshakes and prods. Girls followed me. Most were regulars. All I needed was one more well meaning fan, patting me on the back or trying to kiss me. I'd piss my pants before I'd get to the bathroom soon. 

I danced up and down in front of the urinal. So many buttons. 

Sweet relief. Finally. As I finished, the hairs stood up on my neck. Shit, I only thought that happened in cheap novels, but I felt him. I should have known he'd find me alone in the bathroom-- the sick bastard. 

I turned to face him. He looked different-- a faint white scar creased his face, running from the center of his cheek to his jaw-line. He looked thinner. Un-kept. 

He stepped closer.

"Everyone knows I'm in here," I said bluntly, walking over to wash my hands.

"Of course they do. I just wanted to have a few words with you-- alone."

I stepped up to the sink and washed them quickly-- I felt sick to my stomach suddenly. 

"I've already had more than enough words with you alone to last a life time--" I said, drying my hands, "now get out of my way." 

I stepped past him, and he grabbed my arm. Not again. My guts twisted, recollecting how he pressed against me in the greenhouse.

"I tell you when to move," he said.

"Let go of me." 

He released my arm as two strangers came into the bathroom. As I turned to leave, they blocked my way. 

I stopped.

"I have one word to say--"  he said, smiling as he uttered "Sid." 

I waited. Fuck. 

"I thought that'd get your attention," Shackleton said. "You want him safe? He's not safe where he is. Your trust is misplaced. They're lying to you. All of them. Come with me. Sid will be safe then. Surrender yourself to us and nothing will happen to him."

Someone was in the stall to the left of me, listening. 

"If I do, how can you guarantee no one will hurt him?"

"I'll make an oath. Right here. I don't break oaths. I'm the one person who will always tell you the truth Wesley."

I was tempted to let him have me. Give up. Keep Sid safe. Then someone flushed the toilet in the stall, breaking my thought. 

No. I still had a healthy sense of self-preservation. I loved Sid. I'd give my life for him, but I didn't think an oath meant shit to Shackleton.  

"Ok, you said what you wanted. Anything else you want to add?" I asked.

"A time will come soon when you ask me to help you." He grabbed my arm, and I saw into him-- he knew it. I was right not to go with him. 

I pulled away from him as the man started out of the stall, head down. The two men stepped aside, letting me rush out. Shackleton's voice echoed behind me as the doors swung shut--

"You'll beg me."

-------------------------------

I kept my mouth shut about Shackleton when I went back to the table, but Sid knew. I couldn't hide it from him. Trent leaned back in his seat, watching us both. I was washed out. 

"Head ache," I said-- which wasn't a lie. I had a raging one by then. 

Trent stared into me. Sid didn't buy it either. Then they both saw Shackleton strut out of the bathroom and wave at me. Trent scrambled up. We watched as he followed Shackleton out the back door.

Sid's hand closed tight over mine under table. 

"What happened?" he whispered. 

"The usual harassment-- said I'll beg him for help. But that was it," I lied. Lancaster was still looking after Trent. 

I had no time to think about it all. John hopped up to the stage-- it was time to begin our last set. I pushed my chair back and staggered up.

"You sure you're ok to play?" Sid asked. 

"I've played in a lot worse shape then this."

"That's for sure," said Lynn. "I could tell some stories."

Thank God for Lynn. I squeezed Sid's hand and stood up. 

"Did I ever tell you about the time Wes stuck his head under the table and threw up into my purse?" she asked.

"Oh, God! Not that story," I whined.

"That's what eleven shots of Tequila will do to a virgin drinker," she laughed. "That was the night he told us about this dream he had where he was wearing a red tutu and tights. He reenacted the song and dance in he had in the dream. Wes, you looked so cute singing 'I Feel Pretty' on top of the table right over there." Lynn pointed, leaning into Sid. 

"Fuck, don't remind me," I said. God, how many times did she have to tell that story? 

"The best part though was that final drunken pirouette. Wes fell into the arms of that bouncer over there." 

"He doesn't look like your type," said Alan, nudging me.

Now that Lynn completely humiliated me in front of everyone, I thought I'd better get back on stage. John was tuning up. 

Despite the way I felt when I picked up my guitar, I played well. The first few songs I went through the motions, but then I got caught up in the addiction-- the applause, heat of the lights, vibration of the amps.

From the front table, they sat-- my friends, an uncle I barely knew and my lover.  Music coursed through my veins and came out in chords of lust, love and pain.  Sid coyly smiled at me over the rim of his glass-- probably imagining me in a red tutu and tights. Or maybe mentally removing my black leather.

Falling into his smile, I thought for a brief instant, everything was going to be all right. 

------------------------------

The door shut to the bedroom. Sid backed me against frame, pressing his thumbs hard into my hipbones. His mouth rushed for mine, his tongue lolling on my teeth and rolling playfully inside my mouth. My leather jeans gripped my cock like a hand, as his dick urgently rubbed against mine. 

I forgot everything. I only felt his touch.

"I've been waiting for this all night," he whispered, thumbs sliding in a V, meeting at the base of my cock. "I want to taste you." 

"God, yes," I moaned. 

Slowly, he got down on his knees in front of me, both thumbs parallel, following my shaft up to the tip of my cock. I loved and hated that he enjoyed teasing me this way. He smiled as he pushed up the leather vest and licked my tummy. He took his time unfastening the top rivet of the leather jeans he loved. He winked at me, then looking down, he licked his lips as he undid the next rivet, exposing the head my cock. He grinned up at me again-- like a fucking Cheshire Cat, teasing me with his eyes and giving me one of his boyish crooked grins. Then meandering his tongue down my belly, he looped around the head of my dick-- tongue just brushing the tip. 

Shit, my knees buckled. 

He was pleased with my reaction. He took charge, holding me firmly against the door. 

When he was sure my feet were steady again beneath me, his hands let go-- 

His fingers haltingly unfastened more rivets, taunting me with his lips as he did. I shook and moaned-- my hands trembling and desperately clutching his hair. His face became an irresistible torture for me-- I watched the pearls of sweat running down his brow and the sucking and blowing of his cheeks. He explored every sensitive part of me, building up my want until he knew I was near to collapsing again. His tongue tickled the super-sensitive underside of my cock. He nipped and licked the head of my dick. 

His warm agile fingers pressed in degrees of need, releasing the last button, freeing me. 

As I touched him I saw inside him, feeling his thoughts-- his heat. It was all too much. God, I loved him.

He hesitated. 

"Look at me," he said. 

I bit my lip-- his breath so hot and close against me.

"Sing 'I Feel Pretty' to me," he joked. 

I choked back a laugh as his teeth gently raked against my cock, lips devouring me. I felt the pop of his jaws as his mouth opened and slid me in deeper yet. I pressed my back to the door, praying I could remain upright as my legs trembled. I loved how the contours of his mouth and tongue moved against the length of me. My head spun with every swirling tongue motion, and heart jumped as my cock dipped over every ridge in his mouth.  I loved how Sid's brows twitched and eyes tightened. My mind wrapped around how much I desired and loved him. I closed my eyes. God, he was beautiful and felt beautiful. I restrained myself best I could, letting him do all the work, fucking me hard with his mouth. Wet and warm. Sliding in and out, faster and faster.

I could feel his cock bumping against my shin. I pressed my leg into him. 

But best was seeing into him, feeling how much he loved doing this for me and to me-- how he lost himself in the process.

"Open your eyes-- look at me," he said. I opened them, looking down. Seeing him there on his knees with my cock hard and eager in his mouth was all it took-- 

I felt a warmth building at my spine-- Sid felt it, too. He knew I was near; his fingers cupped my balls, and they tightened in his hand. I whimpered. Then I came-- legs giving up, collapsing. I cried out. Sid braced me up with his hands as he swallowed. When finished, he smiled up at me sheepishly-- his lips moist. 

Fuck, he was hot.

I summoned what little strength I had left in my rubbery bones to pull him up to his feet and kiss him. 

"My turn. What's your desire?" I asked, his dick straining against me. "My fingers around your cock? My lips? Or a little of each?" 

"When you put it like that-- how about a little of each?" 

"Mmm, yes," I said, grabbing his shirt. I pulled him toward the bed. "This mattress hasn't been properly tested. It's nice and firm-- like you. Time we christened it, don't you think?"

I fell down on my back into the bed, pulling the waist of his jeans. 

"Let's get these off," I said. 

Maybe after some practice I could be the tease Sid was, but right then I wasn't in the teasing mood. I hastily unzipped his jeans, yanking them down and off along with his underwear. I stood up, throwing them to the floor and whipped my own clothes off. Flopping back down beside him on the bed, I impatiently unbuttoned his shirt, kissing his chest as I did and spending a few choice moments biting his nipples-- but not too long though-- just enough to make him moan and squirm. I wanted to get right down to what was important. That beautiful big cock.  

I touched him. 

I used my eyes-- the ultimate foreplay for Sid. I knew what my eyes did to him. I let them dance on his dick. Then I let my eyes bend up into his, and I purposefully slid my body down-- eyes never leaving his-- mouth placing strategic kisses over his heart, then lower, just above his belly button. I kissed underneath, planting a tiny trail down the soft fuzz leading to the base of his cock. I kept my hands stroking him, thumb toying with his moistened head-- all the while, watching his face.

"I'm going to make you come hard in my mouth," I said firmly, holding his gaze my eyes wide. I took one swift lick up his shaft, then I filled my throat with him. He spasmed; his breath hissing in sharp bursts and fits, his thigh muscles tightening. 

My eyes imbibed in his beauty-- the high flush of his checks and chest, the soft sweaty strands of hair clinging to his forehead, and the trails of sweat flowing through his chest hairs. He saw the want deep inside my eyes, my heart. 

He thrust up into my mouth.

"Wesley," he moaned, hands raking the back of my neck. "I'm coming." 

I swallowed him as far back into my throat as I could, gorging myself on him. His eyes, clear and shining, reached into mine. His lips gently parted, and he whimpered my name. After I finished drinking down the last of him, I nestled my face into the dip of his pelvis. I heard him murmur, "I love you." 

I wiped a tear out of my eye.

Damn, now I was crying when he came.

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I woke from one of those dreams where you have to pee bad, but can't-- instead you're tormented by visions and sounds of trickling mountain streams or raging rapids. Had to piss. Had to piss. What was it with me and my bladder recently? Dreamy comfort was replaced by urgency. 

I gently moved the sheets aside. I glanced over at Sid. Moonlight bathed the room, softly framing Sid's face. His eyelids danced and lashes fluttered. My finger brushed a hair from the corner of his eye, then leaning over, I kissed his forehead.

"I love you," I whispered. The corner of his mouth turned up. I slipped my feet to the floor. So hard to leave him. I put on Sid's old bathrobe, hugging the heady smell of him to me, and started down the stairs. 

Babe followed me, rubbing my legs.

The Moon illuminated the staircase. We descended the surreal space. I held the railing to keep from stumbling as Babe ran in and around my feet. As I came to the last step almost toppling over, I heard raised voices. I stopped, trying to make out who was arguing. I quietly made my way toward noise, padding through the hallway behind the stairs, following the voices. 

Babe mewed. Then I heard Les, distinctly say: "This is none of your business." 

Then I heard Glenda: "We told you years ago-- that this came with a price."

I stepped closer to the closed door and pressed my ear to it.

"I never knew I had a choice," hissed Les back. "If I'd known, I never would have done it."

"You don't mean that," said Glenda.

"Like Hell, I don't."

"You can't be with him-- or any other mortal," I heard Uncle Daniel say. "It's not fair to him. You will remain the same. He will change. This never works. Your Aunt Glenda told you-- she married one of them once. Mortals will never understand us."

"This is shit. Like I can pick who I fall in love with."

"You can pick who you spend time with," Glenda said, " and who you are intimate with-- and it can't be with Smith or any other mortal. That is the rule."

"Whose rules? Your rules? And what happens if I break them?" 

"Nothing will happen-- to you," she answered.

"Is that a threat? So I'm supposed to pretend I don't care-- or else Smith gets hurt? What about Wes? When are you going to explain these rules to Wes?" Les asked. 

My heart stopped. Babe brushed against the door. No one spoke in the other room. I wondered if they knew I was listening-- then my uncle continued:

"There is more going on than you understand. And as for Wes, he was already involved with Sid. We couldn't stop it."

"I understand a lot more than you both think. You didn't want to stop it. We tricked Wes to get him here. We tricked him to stay. Sid is the only reason Wes is here in this house.  None of us have ever had a choice. What's the reason you had to make Wes and I into something unnatural? To be like you? I'd love for you to explain that one. And Sid. You've used him. You wanted Wes to be involved with him because it serves your purpose. I read my Mom's letters to you Aunt Glenda--"

"Her letters? You've been sneaking in my room? You have no right!"

"I can't believe you're preaching to me about what's right. I read it all today. You won't tell me. Besides-- they're letter from my mother. I know Mom and Dad never wanted Wes or I to become what we are. They kept us away from here for a reason. They wanted both of us to have a normal life." 

"They had no right to make that choice," Glenda snapped. 

"Choice?" Les choked. I heard him laughing. Then silence. Finally Les spoke up again, voice quivering.

"God, I believed you-- all these years that you cared about me. Instead it's some fucking grand design that you give a shit about. Not me. Not Wes and not Mom and Dad. Now I know-- just how dearly my parents paid for keeping us from you." 

I heard a sharp slap. 

"I loved your parents," she said, sobbing. "We had nothing to do with their death. I love you and your brother. Making you one of us was done to protect you. We made that choice. I'm not sorry."

"You make this sound like some grand sacrifice on your part. If this choice was so fucking righteous, tell me-- explain why dragging us down to the roses was necessary. I need to know-- Wes needs to know. You had no right to make choices for us," he replied. "Never ask me to take Wes out to that garden again. I won't do it."

I heard someone walking toward me. I jumped back. No where to hide. The door opened, and Les saw me standing there. His eyes met mine in silent understanding as he brushed past me-- he knew I was listening the whole while. I looked past him to Aunt Glenda and Uncle Daniel.

Babe ran between them. I turned, walked to the bathroom door and went in.