Desire Ch. 23 - Pictures

[itztigress3]

Chapter 23- Pictures
POV: Zac (brief) / Emily
Word Count: 4133


October 3, 2009; Saturday

-Zac-
I woke up at 8 to an empty bed beside me, I was sure Emily had just woken up before me. I got up and got dressed for the day, I was due at the studio sometime before ten. I sat down on the side of the bed and put my shoes on before going downstairs and finding Emily in the kitchen fixing breakfast.

“It’s almost done.” She said.

I walked up behind her and kissed her neck. We ate standing in the kitchen, but then I noticed she wasn’t dressed, she was still in her plaid pajamas.

“Are you not going with me today?”

“I’m going to stay here. There haven’t been any calls, texts, notes, or packages since August. Either they gave up or maybe the police found something. I need to clean up and Aaron called yesterday Dad wants me to bring the pictures back soon, so I need to really get through those and get that done.”

I frowned, I didn’t like the idea of her being alone at the house, but she had a point. I also wanted to bring up another subject and I didn’t want her to be on edge about that, so I said nothing about her being alone. I’d fret all day, but she would be safe inside the house.

“I thought about what you said two weeks ago after Casey left.”

She looked at me and waited for me to say more, god I was nervous.

“If you are ok with it, then I am Ok with asking Casey.”

“So, you do want to see what it’s like to actually be with a guy?”

“You are right I mean Casey is trustworthy and he won’t try to push things if it’s just not something I can do because I’ve never done anything with a guy.”

“Do you want to make that call or do you want me too?”

“I think he may respond better to you, considering he brought it up to you.”

She walked to me and put her arms around my waist. “I think he’ll agree. He seems to really like you and unless he can’t separate sex and love, he probably will say yes. Am I also asking him for more than just you?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s bi-sexual Zac. You trust him and so do I. He’d be perfect for both of us.”

“I’ve already said no Emily. I’m not changing my mind about that.”

She backed away. “Why not?”

“I’ve told you why Emily. Wanted or not, you’ve already had a three-some.”

She completely moved away from me and that wasn’t good. “So you just want me to relive that then? To think about that scene when the subject comes up? You’d rather I think about Adam and Gary making me than to think of you and Casey?”

“I’d rather you not think about it at all.”

I knew by the disappointed look on her face that I shouldn’t have said those words, but I couldn’t take them back now. Along with the disappointment she seemed upset and perhaps even mad.

“I see. If he has questions about anything is it ok to tell him?”

“If you believe it is something that he needs to know, yes. He doesn’t need to know about drumsticks or paddles, so anything he doesn’t need to know, he doesn’t need to be told.”

She moved the plate off the counter and moved away from me.

“Emily.”

She didn’t look at me. “You’re going to be late if you don’t go on.”

“I’m sorry Emily, I just view it differently.”

She didn’t reply to me and I knew better than to push it. “We should be done by six, if it’ll be after that I will call you.”

“Ok. Have fun.”

I got my thinner jacket and left the house. I hated leaving her knowing she was upset, but I also knew better than to push her when she clearly did not want to talk. The last time we had pushed her it had lead to a large explosion where she pretty much put us all in our places. It only took once for us to learn, when she says she doesn’t want to talk or when she’s pissed, you don’t push her. One display was all we needed.

I felt like an asshole for denying her the three some when she clearly was not planning to tell me no to being with Casey. I just couldn’t risk it; I couldn’t risk her leaving me for someone else. I hated making her remember what they done but the fact is she doesn’t think about that and she would never ask them to do it again. Still, it had upset her and I felt bad about that. Yet, there was no guarantee she would call Casey, no guarantee Casey would agree either.

I made it to the studio at the same time as Taylor and we got to work reviewing songs and making plans for the rest of the year.

-Emily-

I heard the door shut as he left and I stood there for several moments before I flung the plate across the room, thankfully it was plastic. How the fuck could he expect me to call Casey and invite him here to fuck him when he wouldn’t even agree to let me join them? It’s not like I was asking him to go have sex with some random guy all the time, just once. His reason was complete bullshit because he knew for a fact I try to forget that three-some experience, hell I try to forget that whole fucking week! I was still standing in the kitchen an hour later, trying to calm down. It was simple, I just wouldn’t call Casey if he could deny me, then I could certainly say no to him.

My cell phone rang and I looked at it, Aaron’s picture was flashing so I answered kind of harshly.

“Ouch, you sound a little pissed off Emmy, everything ok?”

“Everything is fine.”

“I don’t believe you but I also know better than to ask, so I will simply move on. I’m actually calling because Dad is quite furious as well.”

“If he’s furious because I won’t call off the wedding to Zac, then he can go fuck off because I am not calling it off.”

The line was quiet. “Ok, it’s very clear everything is not fine. But, no that’s not why he’s mad. Actually he’s been on a rampage looking for specific photo albums. It’s why I called you, I know you have all of our baby albums but he said these were in his bedroom.”

“I did get the ones downstairs but Mom’s was upstairs, I may have it with me. What is in it?”

“He said Mom. But, he won’t say anything else.”

“Is he there?”

“Yes. But Emmy…”

“Ask him what color the album is. If I have it I will call him and tell him.”

I heard him asking and heard the angry response in return, it was red.

“Did you hear?”

“Yeah. Aaron you may need to leave the house.”

“I’m fine; George and Joshua are also here.”

“Ok. Anyway, um I’ll check I was actually planning to go through them today. So, either way I will let him know if I have them or not.”

“Ok. Calm down some Emmy, whatever you’re mad about I am sure it will work out.”

“Not likely, but thank you.”

“It’s not Zac that made you mad is it?”

I didn’t want them to call him, without giving them the full detail they’d assume. “No. It was just something stupid.”

“Ok.”  We said our byes and hung-up.

I went ahead and got the suitcase from up-stairs and took it to the room behind our living room, it had been wasted space but we ultimately decided to put a small office here for household bills and personal things and then he put a drum set, keyboard, and a few guitars in here making it the music room.

I first turned on the computer and scanner and determined how I was going to organize the pictures I was scanning. I then laid the albums out by whom they were and started with George’s pictures. Thankfully, whoever had kept them up had been organized and labeled every picture with his age or a date. The first suitcase had everyone but me, Christopher, family group photos, and Mom’s. I finished scanning and labeling the older four before 1:30.  Saving and labeling the pictures took the most time. I then repacked the albums up and took them back to the room across from ours and put them up, I got the next suitcase and took it downstairs.

I went ahead and fixed a bowl of cereal for lunch, I wasn’t really that hungry. I was standing in the kitchen when my phone buzzed and I looked, it was a text message from Zac.

I love you. We’re moving on track and should be leaving on time or shortly after six.

I love you. I’ve been scanning pictures almost done.

I’m sorry about this morning…

It’s ok Zac, I understand. Let’s just not mention that anymore.

I did not get a response back which was fine. I returned to the music room and got busy again. My own pictures didn’t take very long because I had a lot of them already, I just scanned the ones I did not have. Christopher’s were the same way; I had copies of almost all of his, so I just scanned the ones I didn’t have. The last major album was family photos and again, I had many of those already. But, scanning those family photos made me feel sad, because Mom was always in them but she wasn’t for any of mine. It was clear the photographer’s took advantage of the only girl; I was usually somewhere dead center of the picture. I had never gotten to even meet her or know who she was beyond what my brother’s told me, Dad never talked to me about Mom.

Having pictures of her at my age and having them side by side I could really see that I looked almost identical to her. I picked up the last album of Mom’s, should be her and her parents, which had died before Aaron was born. I saw three red albums lying on the very bottom. Figuring they were of Mom too, I went ahead and scanned the ones I had. It was clear I took after Mom’s side! I put the last picture back and got the first red one but when I opened it I paused staring down at the picture looking back at me. It wasn’t Mom.

I did not recognize the woman looking back at me and I honestly hoped this was some sick joke. The girl had blonde hair and brown eyes; she was sitting on a metal framed bed in just a pair of panties and a bra. She looked miserable. There was a part of me that said not to turn the page, but curiosity always won with me and I turned it anyway. The next page contained pictures of the same girl but she was completely naked this time. As I turned the pages the pictures varied, up-close facial pictures showing the evident fear and sadness in her eyes. Then there were close up photos of her breasts and then close ups of the lower regions. Each page seemed to get worse and I finally closed it when I came to a picture of her on the bed and Adam sitting beside her. My hands were shaking but I called Craig anyway.

“Hey! It’s been a while since you called me.”

“Are you in Tulsa or Jenks?”

“I’m in Jenks still, why?”

“The girl Adam went to jail for, the one he killed. Do you remember anything about her?”

“Emily, did you get something else from them?”

“No. Do you remember her or not?”

“My mom worked the case, so I am familiar with her yes. I would image Mom knows a lot more than I do.”

“No one ever told me what she looked like. That’s all I want to know.”

“She had medium length blonde hair and brown eyes.”

I felt the shaking increase. “Was there any kind of marks, scars, tattoos, anything like that?”

“She had a butterfly on her ankle. Mom said her mother told the police she asked for it when she turned 15 and she agreed only because it was a simple pretty butterfly. Her mother also had several.”

I picked up the album and went to the first one and sure enough there was a butterfly there on the ankle, a black body with pink and purple wings and little wispy areas around the outside.

“Were the wings pink and purple?”

“I think so. Emily why are you asking and what is wrong you sound different.”

I closed it and laid it aside. “Just thinking about things, I never really wanted to know much about her. I mean your mother told me the things he did. But she didn’t really tell me anything about her.”

“He’s not going to get you Emily.”

“I know.”

“You’ll be fine Emily.”

I hung-up and laid the phone on the counter. I picked up the next red one and assuming it was the same girl, I just randomly chose a page and opened it. But the pictures I was looking at were not of the girl or of my mother, they were of me. I flipped to the front and found pictures of my apartment before I moved in with Zac; I began flipping pages and found they got worse. I was asleep in the bed in several, but I had different shirts on. But the last one I remembered, the next page had pictures of Gary beside me and as I kept flipping the whole week was there. Images of me asleep, laying in front of the TV or passed out in front of it, pictures of the bruises and marks, including close ups of my wrists.  There were several extremely private pictures, ones I never recalled them even taking. I remembered none of these; despite the fact that I could tell I was awake in several. The last several pages were harder to look at, they were both there and still I did not remember a camera.

I back tracked a few pages stared at one, it was a good view of what was happening and I realized that the camera had to be on one of them somewhere, but I still recalled no cameras. I was looking at one in the bottom interior when I noticed stains on the seam of the album. I started to put my hands there when my brain made the connection to what the stain was or use to be, I barely made it to the bathroom before throwing everything up from lunch. 

I remained in the bathroom for twenty minutes before I returned to the front, the album was lying open on the floor but I looked at the third one. I carefully picked it up and opened it. The first few pictures were me as a toddler, about 3 or 4; one was the picture of me in the underwear that George had taken. But as I flipped the pages the pictures weren’t ones that George took. Most of them I was in underwear, there were some of me in the tub and I vaguely remember those I was five or six then. But the ones after that were different, I was sure at 8 or 9 I would remember but I didn’t recall these photos either.  The more pages I turned the worse they seem to get, teenage years I knew exactly where the pictures came from, hidden cameras because the views were obscure and always the same angle. Some of the pictures had labels, age or place and some were defined as clearly being for Adam. Again, the seams were stained on nearly every page, more so for the beginning of the album.

I sank to the floor right there and just sat there. I recalled what Adam told me, that my father was worse than him and apparently it was true. Questions filled my head and none of them had answers, none could. He’d never touched me in a sexual nature, yet here were photos that he’d had taken or at least seen and used as porn material. The ones of me from that week had to have been sent to him and because of the stains, it was something he got off on. His own daughter.

It took about thirty minutes for what felt the true reason behind his constant push for Adam, it did nothing to help settle the queasy feeling or to numb the sudden dull ache in my chest. He was so adamant I marry Adam because Adam would supply him with pictures like these, pictures he apparently wanted. Zac would never give him pictures like these. I couldn’t describe the pain that was radiating from my chest. I couldn’t explain why the questions spilled out, when I knew no one was here but me. I slid down the wall and cried. About 5:45 my phone blinked and I glanced at it, unlocked the screen and looked at the text message from Dad.

Sweetie – did you find the albums I was hunting for? Aaron said you were going through them today. I haven’t found them…

There was another sharp pain; he was desperate to find them, desperate to have them back. I picked up the phone and through blurry eyes I replied.

No. I have a box left though but I had to stop from a headache. I will look tomorrow or at least have Zac look and see if there here.

Ok. But, I would much rather you look and not him.

I dropped the phone; there was only one reason why he’d not want Zac to see them. He knew Zac wouldn’t be happy. I cried again a deep ache that didn’t seem to want to go away. Scattering images of me as a child, him watching me sleep, daydreams of dancing with him at my wedding, the same ones that now seem to shatter and break.

I was still curled up in the music room floor, albums scattered around me when I heard the front door open.

“I’m home baby.”

I just sat there; I wasn’t even sure what to do anymore.

“Emily? Did you hear me?”

I started to remain quiet, but I could detect slight worry in his voice and I didn’t want him to panic and think someone broke in and hurt me.

“I’m in the music room.” I called.

I detected the strain in my voice, the evident pain and that drew him right to me. I looked up at him when he came into the room, I was certain I looked like hell because even now he was still somewhat blurry.

“Baby? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He asked.

He was instantly beside me and then his eyes lingered to the two open albums on the floor and I saw the shock on his face. He was looking at a rear view picture of me taken in a bedroom he’d never seen. There were bruises on my shoulders and side from my father.

“Is that you?”

“Yes, it was right after he started hitting me. I was fourteen.”

He looked at me and then back, confusion written on his features and then he saw the other one and he picked that one up and turned a few pages.

“Where did these come from? Did someone bring them to you?”

“They were in the suitcase with the pictures, they were in his bedroom. Remember, I just grabbed albums because Mom’s was there.”

Zac picked them both up, sat down at the desk and looked at every single photo in both albums of me.

“These didn’t come from the video surveillance camera, did they have cameras?”

“I never saw them; I never knew they even existed.”

He looked completely disgusted when he was done going through them both. I handed him the third one.

“It’s not me, but she resembled the girl Adam killed.”

He briefly went through that one but somewhere about halfway he must have noticed the stains on the seams of the albums, he picked up one of mine and checked and then the other one. I could see he was about to throw up too, so when he excused himself I didn’t say anything, just sat there for fifteen minutes until he returned from the bathroom.

“How long have you been in here?”

“Hours.”

“Come on, you’re getting out of the room.”

“He knows there missing, Aaron called after you left.”

He kneeled, cupped my face and smiled at me. “You will be fine Emily. You just need to get out of the room.”

I got up and followed him out of the room, to the kitchen where he gave me a glass of soda. I finished the glass and stood there at the counter, completely lost.

“Do you want to get some dinner? We can just go out or I can fix something.”

I looked at him. “I really don’t want food Zachary.”

He pulled me too him and held me tightly, much tighter than he normally did. “I don’t know what to say or do to make this better.”

I understood that well, I didn’t know either but he stood there and held me and after an hour I could hear his stomach growl. I looked up at him.

“I’ll assume you’re hungry at least?”

“Sorry. We didn’t stop for lunch just snacked on crackers and soda.”

“Why don’t we go to the diner then? Maybe the walk and the air will help me.”

“It might.”

I moved away and put my shoes on, put a light jacket on and we walked to the diner. The air did make me feel a little better, I decided I should eat something so I ordered light and after finishing I felt a little bit better. We walked back slowly and that seemed to help me, but the lingering thoughts were still there.

When we came into the house I started for the music room but he directed me to the stairs instead.

“You don’t need to go in there, let’s go take a hot bath.”

I didn’t argue with him, sat on the bed while he ran the bath water. I let him undress me, help me in and once he was settled in I sat down in front of him. I found it was helping. He held me for a while before washing us both and then drying us both off. It had been a long time since he’d literally just did everything for me; in fact it was right after I got out of the hospital. Neither of us got dressed, that was his intent because he didn’t lay anything out before hand. He pulled me close to him once the covers were up.

The warmth of his body against mine felt comforting and safe. The earlier dispute was far from our minds, I couldn’t be mad at him right now when all I could see were images of my father being there and the shattering reality that he didn’t just watch me sleep, he wasn’t there just to check on me. Images of the father daughter dance I had looked forward to for so long, shattering and burning into nothing. I wasn’t aware that Zac was actually singing until his words began to break through the fog and the shattered images.

“Just cry out, Yeah, I’ve cried those tears before. I can feel it now, as your teardrops hit the floor. ‘Cause you know that I’ll love you and never let go. And you know that I’ll love you forever. I’ll love you and never let go.”

The images began to fade away, letting instead his soft voice fill my head.

“You don’t have to ask me do I love you, as I hold you it says how much I do. I’m yours until forever is through. Anytime I stand for you, I know I’d lay my life down for you. I’ll never let, not ever let go. Just lay down, put your worried thoughts to bed as slumber pulls you down on my shoulder rest your head.”

I did lay my head on his shoulder and he kept singing until my eyes closed and sleep took me under.



(Never Let Go © Hanson.)