“Joe, we called this meeting because of you. I am very disappointed in you, hitting a lady like that?”
“Mum I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want to hear it, I raised you better than this.”
Joe got up, fist clenched,
“You did a good job, mum.”
His tone was sarcastic. His mum looked stunned, maybe because of his audacity or the anger in his eyes. He turned to his father who was seated casually, one leg resting on top of another, one hand stroking his beard, sipping ale like he was watching a thriller film unfold.
“I was never good enough for you, dad. Nothing I did made you proud. Heck, you were always comparing me to John. He has always been your perfect son, you celebrate everything he does. What about me? You take from me and give to him, then you rub it all over my face. You did a good job in making me feel less of a person so thank you very much. I’m leaving.”
He started for the door but his father looked up from his ale, like he had not heard a word Joe had said and spoke softly, the words stern with a lot of weight, like he was teasing a losing opponent,
“Joe, you will not leave until I say so. Sit down if you are done with your little rant”
Joe hesitated, he looked at him like he was about to pounce on him, then walked back to his seat. His mother shook her head, clearly disappointed.
“Nothing justifies hitting a lady, entitled Joe. I saw her back, it is full of marks.”
They all turned to look at me, I shifted on my chair uncomfortably, I was embarrassed.
“You’d be blind not to see that she loves you. Your misplaced anger will one day cost you.”
I could feel she was in pain, she looked at him with a mixed reaction, a reaction only a mother could have, love, pain, disappointment and hope.
His father got up and asked her to sit.
“Joe, I will not mince my words with you.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
He turned to me,
“Joe has always had anger issues, at 12 years, he beat our neighbor’s son to death.”
I gasped in horror, and covered my mouth. Who is this I had fallen in love with?
Joe got up, gritting his teeth,
“You conveniently forgot to tell her what that son of a bitch did to me.”
His father’s gaze softened, a wave of pain washed his face but disappeared just as quickly.
Joe turned to me,
“He molested me, not once or twice but severally. They only cared about their social status and class.”
I felt a deep ache in my heart. His anger was stemming from somewhere. All these years, he was angry at everything and everyone for something that had happened to him as a child. I felt sorry for him. He blew his nose and wiped a lone tear o his left cheek.
“You want me to go on? Huh? You want me to tell her how you used your money and influence to cover it up? How you sent me to boarding school to protect yourselves? You have never loved me, I am nothing like your golden son here.”
“Joe, that’s enough. We did everything to protect you. Sending you to boarding school was for your own good. Would you rather have gone to prison for murder?”
There was silence, thoughts were raging in their minds. This family had issues. I wasn’t supposed to be here, I had to go home. I got up and turned to Joe,
“I’m sorry for everything that happened to you, I really am.”
“But? You are going to leave me like all of them, run away from me.”
“Of course not, I want you to become whole again, get help, I’m not leaving you.”
My heart was pounding so hard, I was making a mistake here, Joe had too much going on. I should have ended things but a part of me felt like he could be saved.
He got up and took my hands in his,
“Do you mean that?”
“Yeah, I do. But for now, I need you to take me home. I don’t feel too good.”
His brother stood up and cleared his throat,
“If you are unwell, I can help and maybe prescribe something.”
“Thanks, I just need to rest, I will be okay.”
I started for the door but his mother quickly got up and stopped me,
“Diana, you are a good person, I hope to see you again.”
“Thank you, I will come back to see you, all. If you will excuse me.”
Before I could move, she drew me into a tight hug.
The drive home was silent. I was lost in my own thoughts. What Joe had gone through, that was horrible. As if he had read my mind, he turned to look at me,
“Babe, I promise, I will get better for you, for us.”
I held his hand and squeezed it with understanding. When we were home in a few minutes,
“Come on in.”
He stepped into my house like it was his first time.
I went to the bedroom to change, he was right behind me. He unzipped my dress, tracing the marks on my back with his fingers, the pain was bitter sweet.
My dress dropped into a heap on the floor, I turned and pushed him against the wall, his chest rising with anticipation, his lips parted, so inviting. I closed the small gap between us, I kissed his warm lips, and moved my body against his. Perhaps what my pain wanted was love, and sex. My heart raced, my boobs erected as I pressed my body against his. I took off his shirt, and trailed kissed from his temple, to his chiseled chest. I unbuckled his belt while kissing him, I was overcome with desire. I dropped to my knees and pulled his trousers and boxers down. My fingers gingerly took his throbbing manhood, I led him into my mouth, up and down and deep. My fingers played with his balls. He moaned and called my name, holding my head tightly. He was charged, aroused like a lion. He pulled out in time as he came. I was regaining my composure when he turned me, bending over my bed and slid into me from behind. This here, this was explosive love making, it was everything I wanted. We both collapsed on the bed, too tired to talk or do anything, we curled up together and slept.