"Dang, what happened to the Elle that was afraid of using my money?" Bryson asked me as I got in his car with three fairly large brown paper bags full of food and drinks.
"I remembered what you said and did at the Bacon Grill. Trust me when I say, I'll never again make the same mistake." I admitted as I placed two of paper sacks on the floor board and attempted to balance the other one on my lap as I got buckled.
Bryson chuckled, "You do know that night I left that hamburger for you in the refrigerator. Figured you would get up later that night in hunger and find it."
I looked over at Bryson as he pulled out of the convenience store parking lot. With narrowed eyes I gave a frown. "Gee, now you tell me!" Rolling my eyes, I glanced down at my lap. I decided to open the bag before me because I was hungry. Guess I can thank Bryson for that. He did, after all, wake me up and, literally, take me against my will to the car. Don't they have a word for that? ... Oh yeah, kidnapping...
Upon opening the bag, my mouth started to water at the sight of a medium sized bag of Cool Ranch Doritos that laid on top of the other condiments that filled the brown bag. Reaching down I grabbed the Doritos, while leaving everything else (including: 2 Snickers, 3 Blow Pops, 2 Coca Colas, 1 Hershey's Chocolate Bar, 1 container of Oreos and Nutter Butters, and 2 small bags of Twizzlers) in the bag. Sitting the brown bag on the floor with the other two, I smiled.
“Did you have any change?” Bryson asked as I pulled open the Doritos.
I shook my head as he increased the speed of the car due to the speed limit change. “I have thirty-two cents left,” I stated as I thought of the cool metal coins that were in my jean pocket.
“You spent a hundred dollars?!” He gasped.
I gave a toothy grin, knowing exactly what I did. “Yep.”
“Do you not have any concept of money? You can’t go wasting money on junk food!”
“I am confused, are you mad because I bought junk food or because I used your money. If I remember correctly, you told me-”
Bryson exhaled, “I know what I said ... but still you spent it all ... on junk food...”
I loosened the grin that plagued my face as I ignored the contradicting Bryson and reached in the bag of Doritos. Pulling out a perfectly triangle shaped chip, that was coated in yummy seasoning, I ate it in one bite. After a few minutes of shoving one chip after another in my mouth, I finally stopped and decided the silence that now cloaked Bryson and I was becoming constricting. “So, tell me about yourself, Bryson.”
He looked at me for a second before focusing back on the two lane highway that was now running through a wooded area. “What do you want to know?”
“... A secret. Tell me one of your darkest secrets.”
Bryson glanced at me again. “It wouldn’t be a secret if I told you ... now, would it?”
***
Four Years Earlier
BRYSON’S POINT OF VIEW
At the head of the dinner table, Dad was cutting through his country steak with a sharp knife. The sound of his knife running back and forth through the meat could be heard before it went through and scraped the plate for a second. I didn’t look up as he set his knife down on the edge of the plate and shoved the steak in his mouth. He obnoxiously ate as my mother, from what I could tell in the corner of my eye, was poking around at her food displeasingly.
I couldn’t look at her.
I know that makes me a bad son to not be able to stand the sight of my own mom.
However, no matter the case, it sickens me to look at my mother because when I look at her, I am reminded of the torment Dad places on her every single night.
Setting my fork down, I gulped.
It was going to happen again tonight. I knew it because there hasn’t been one day in my whole life that I haven’t heard her ... beg or cry for salvation of his malevolence ways.
I asked her once, a year or so back, why she stayed with him. She gave me a weak smile and said that it was because she loved him.
If the reason she stayed with him was for love, then I hope to never fall in love. It sounded like chains, ones that hold you down and drown you so deep in murky water that you can’t tell when you are in a situation that could kill you.
I had no doubt that one day I would wake up and find her on the cold hard ground, dead ... lifeless.
He would go that far, it was just a matter of time.
I placed my hands under the table as they clenched in anger. There was nothing I could do. Last time I tried to stop him from hitting her, I ended up locked in my room without food and water for three days. That was after he got a few blows in.
After that Mother has been locking me up at night in my room so I don’t go stopping him.
I think in some sick twisted way she is protecting me. Her thought is that if I am contained to my room that I won’t be brave and try and stop him. In return, Dad won’t hurt me and people at school won’t catch on to his abusive acts.
Even though she didn’t want me to get hurt, I was. I can’t stand hearing them at night.
“Are ya not goin’ eat, Boy?” Dad asked in his husky voice.
I picked back up my fork, seeing as he was not asking me a question but mere demanding me in his own way to eat. I started to eat the food before me, absent mindedly. Hope coursed through me that tonight would be different and he wouldn’t torment Mother.
Yet, that was a silly thought and I knew it.
***
Present Time
Elle's Point Of View
“I have no secrets,” Bryson told me as the car accelerated some more, showing me he was lying.
“Really? I find that a huge lie. I think you are a puzzle, Bryson. One I am keen to solving.”
“What happens when you get all the pieces together and you don’t like what you see?”
I gave him a single chuckle, “There has never been a puzzle I haven’t liked.”
“Glad to be your first,” he stated.
The immature part of my brain wondered for a minute as I thought of his words and another meaning they implied. Blushing I looked away. “I was in love with Randall,” I blurted out. “I can remember that ... so far in my memories, that is the biggest secret I have...”
Bryson was silent and even though I wasn’t looking at him, I knew he was thinking. “You loved him?” His voice was laced in shock the moment he finally spoke.
“Yep,” I stated as I popped the ‘p’. “So, that was my secret. Come on, tell me something about you! Something no one knows!” I urged.
Bryson grunted, “Why are you so curious about me?”
I gave a shrug of my shoulders. “I want to know you. You are my fiancé after all ... Sorry to break it to you but I don’t have the tendency to marry strangers. Plus, you owe me something.”
“Why do I owe you anything? You are the one that is feeding off of my money, living under my roof-”
“That is love my dear. You do all those things out of love ... Now you do owe me because you promised to take me to Peter yesterday-”
“You said you wouldn’t bring this up in the car.”
“You are right, I did say that. Well, oops, I made a mistake. Now, come on! I really want to know something about you!”
Bryson gave another grunt in irritation. It was clear I was pushing him to his end, but I didn’t care.
“I have a fear ... of ...” He started to trail off.
I knew his courage to tell me had dwindled. “Fear of?! Rats? Spiders? Raccoons? Fire? Lawnmowers? Little Kids?! Come on! Tell me!” I was seconds from shaking it out of him but I knew I couldn’t because he was driving.
He gave a deep chuckle at me before shaking his head, “No, no, no. I don’t have a fear of any of those things ... mine is much more ... stupid...”
“No fear is stupid,” I stated as I tried to comfort him into telling me.
“If I were to tell you, you’d laugh.”
“I wouldn’t,” I exclaimed as I pleaded with myself that no matter what he said, I wouldn’t laugh. I mean, how funny would it be?
“I have a fear of ... sand,” he proclaimed.
I blinked a few times and then cocked my head to the left as I looked over at him. “Sand?”
Bryson gave a few small nods, “Sand.”
“How can you be afraid of sand?” I asked with a stunned face. I couldn’t imagine how anyone could be afraid of sand. I mean ... sand ... really?
Bryson’s face turned a thousand more shades of irritation. “Yes, sand. I believe the correct term is Eremikophobia.”
“So, you have never been to a beach?” I questioned with wide eyes.
“Once.”
“And you were afraid of it then?” I inquired with curiosity. For some odd reason, I wanted to know every single fiber of Bryson.
“No,” he vaguely replied.
His answer didn’t satisfy me. In fact, it made me hungrier for answers. “What do you mean you weren’t afraid then? What changed?”
I saw Bryson’s knuckles on the steering wheel go white in anger. “Eke, haven’t I told you enough?”
I temporarily closed my eyes as I tried not to think about how much it bugged me that he got my name wrong. Sighing, I tried to act calm. “No, you haven’t told me enough. There is no end to my reign of questions. I will stop when I feel like I completely know and understand you, Bryson.”
“Well, we have about four more hours in this car, I don’t think you would even scratch the surface of who I am in that time, nor would I want you too. So, let’s enjoy some silence,” Bryson suggested.
I rolled my brown eyes, “I don’t do well with silence. It annoys me after a while,” I admitted. “See, I told you something about me. See how easily I can open up? Tell me something that annoys you.”
“Your voice,” He quickly fired back without a second’s hesitation.
I decided not to take what he said to heart. Instead, I rolled up my chip bag and shoved it in its original paper sack. I rummaged through the other bags as I looked for a certain something that I was hoping to find in order to lift Bryson up and loosen his mouth into talking. “Well, you told me that you have not had any sleep, which is so not wise by the way ... Anyways; I figured you would want another one of these. After all, you did seem fond of the one you finished off shortly after we left your place,” I commented as I pulled out a tall Redbull.
Bryson looked over in my direction with slightly wide eyes that held nothing but excitement. He outreached his hand, to grab the drink but I jerked it away from his grasp.
“You will not have this drink, unless you tell me something else about you.”
Bryson dropped his hand back to his side and gave off a heavy sigh. “I love dogs and hate cats. Mostly because I am allergic to cats...”
I smiled and handed Bryson the Redbull. “I don’t like cats either. Not because I am allergic to them but because they are just ... I dunno ... but my brother, Peter, loves cats. He owns one, or at least did when we were little ... Its name was Bootsie. We thought it was a girl for the longest time. However, one day Randall was petting it - much to my argument - and said that he was certain it was a boy. Come to find out at the vet a week later, it was a boy ... I wonder if that cat is still alive...”
“Do you like to hear yourself talk?” Bryson asked me as he glanced in my direction for a prolonged second.
“No, I just am in the mood to talk ... What is your favorite food?”
“Fruit Loops.”
“Gasp! I love Fruit Loops, they aren’t my favorite, but I love them. You know, Peter always thought I was a weirdo because I eat my Fruit Loops one color at a time. First I eat the red loops, then yellow, followed by ... oh you get the picture...”
Bryson smiled, “I have never heard of another human being eating it the same way I do ... Yet, I start with the green loops.”
“I save those for last,” I added.
“Just out of curiosity, how do you eat your M&Ms?” He questioned.
“Same way I eat my Fruit Loops,” I smirked. “First the red, then the yellow, so on so on ... ...Hey, you act like you are just now figuring out how I eat Fruit Loops and M&Ms ... I would think you, being my boyfriend and all, would know this...”
Bryson gave a gulp and then pressed his lips tightly together.
“Bryson...”
“How about some music?” He abruptly suggested and then flicked on the radio. Turning the volume nozzle on the radio, Bryson adjusted the volume so that it was just loud enough to drown out my voice if I so choose to speak.
I glared daggers at him as he started to act like I wasn’t even in the car and his sole attention was the road, which it should be ... but still, I can tell when he is ignoring me purposely, like now.
I folded my arms across my chest, contemplating on if I should reach over and just turn the radio off myself. However, I dismissed that idea quickly because I started to feel like maybe forcing him or begging him to talk / answer my questions wasn’t the best idea. He had secrets and as of that moment he was Hell bent on keeping them.
***
“We will have to go grocery shopping tomorrow morning,” Bryson said as he stood in the small open kitchen of the log cabin (which I found out was located in the middle of a gigantic forest). “For tonight it looks like we are stuck with the junk food you bought and some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I packed in the cooler earlier." Bryson informed me as he took two steps over to the large blue cooler.
I nodded from the wool couch as I looked around and fully took in the place. It was beautiful. The kitchen and den were one room. The kitchen was furnished with a 1960s white stove and refrigerator. Other then that the kitchen had a small island counter top in the middle of the sectioned room.
The den, which about three steps away from the kitchen was what you would expect from a cabin. The log paneling walls were decorated with a couple deer heads and a few wilderness paintings. Of course, there was a fireplace that had a mantel that held a rifle. Besides all that there was a hand-carved, wooden, coffee table in front of the brown wool sofa and a standing lamp beside the couch.
Upon my glancing around, I also noticed that there was only one door, beside the front door, that was attached to the den and kitchen.
I stood up as curiosity, of what was on the other side of the door, got the better of me. My hand touched the brass door knob. Turning it, I opened the door to find myself face to face with a small, cozy, bedroom. I inhaled only to find that the air smelled old and dusty. I crinkled my nose and walked in the bedroom. Looking around, I saw another door to the right wall. Walking over to it, I didn’t hesitate as I opened the door.
I gave a frown as I saw a bathroom before me.
Part of me wanted to find some hidden secret about Bryson. I hoped that it lurked behind the two doors that I found. Honestly, I was disappointed. Nothing about this place screamed “Bryson”. It was almost like...
“Bryson?!” I shouted as I walked out of the bathroom and bedroom. Marching into the kitchen, I allowed an upset look to find my face. “You don’t own this place. Do you?! Are we squatting?”
“What?! No! I do own this place-”
“But, you're like, eighteen. How do you have the money-?”
Bryson stood a few feet in front of me with an aggravated look on his face. “Please, stop with the billion and one questions. I own this place. End of story.”
I huffed in reply as I walked over to a bar stool that was tucked in the corner of the kitchen. Sitting on the plush red cushion, I crossed my arms over my chest. I knew I was pouting but I just wished he would let me in, once again.
“Are you hungry now? I put the sandwiches in the refrigerator but I can take them out and plate them if you are hungry.”
“I am not hungry,” I stated as I let my hands drop to my sides.
“Okay...”
I started to nibble on my bottom lip, wondering what to say next. Of course, I thought I could ask him a general question, like what is his favorite flavor of ice cream, yet I just bit my tongue down on that idea. Once silence consumed us for a good minute, I thought of a question to ask, that was not making Bryson explain something about him ... but instead making me realize a problem we have. “Bryson ... is there only one bedroom in this cabin?”
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A/N:
Yeah, so you can thank my AP English teacher for the late update. He has been burying me in work. However, I decided to accept a late grade on some assignments in order to update. So, I hope you enjoyed this because it has cost me in grades (-.-) ..
Anywhoo!
Please:
Vote!
Smile!
Comment!
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TheFirstWinterSnow's (Maddy's ... TheRiverRunsDeeps best friend ... who is special enough to read this before all of you :P) comment:
*sigh* Only a slight cliffhanger ... but you're evil, so ... I'll be expecting a reaaally bad one soon (-_-)
I found this chapter quite funny, actually. And the fact that Bryson really likes Redbull only makes me like him that much more!
All joking aside though, I'm glad I was able to get a little bit of insight on Bryson's past. Even if it's just a little. I do feel a little bad now though for slightly bad mouthing him though ... :(
Keep it up! Hope I get to read another update soon! :)
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A/N:
COMMENT ... or I will tell the Cookie Monster that you are a cookie ... Muahahahaha... XD