Chapter 11: Tirone: Chapter 11

A Few Months Ago

“I saw him! I saw him with my own eyes!” Ty was frantic in that motel room he’d taken me to. I thought he’d brought me here to have some time alone. It’d turned out he wanted to fight about Lenard Grant. Mr. Grant, the Music teacher.

I wished Ty would have just calmed down so we could have talked things out like normal people. “We were just talking, Ty. He’s my colleague.”

“Don’t lie to me. He was telling everybody he was going to ask you out, and I know what I saw. He was flirting with you. And you weren’t blowing him off. Did he ask you out? What did you say, huh? What did you say?!”

Stunned, I just froze. I’d never seen him that agitated, not even that first night he came to my apartment. He scared me.

Then he scared me some more.

His cries bellowed in the room like painful howls, ripping through me. He was kicking and tossing things, breaking them. He was bleeding in several spots on his arms and hands from whatever he’d broken. Then he staggered, falling on the floor, shoulders heaving, breaking into hysterics.

I fell to my knees next to him, flinching with every jerking move he was making. He was crying and in a dangerous state of agitation. He didn’t seem to be aware of his surroundings, and his violent moves could impact me without his knowing. “Ty,” I breathed as I took in the sad sight of him. “Please, calm down. There’s nothing between me and the Music teacher. Never will be.”

“He wants to take you from me. I’ll fucking kill him. I’ll fucking kill him!”

“No, Ty. No. please.” I tried to hold him, but my arms retreated with a flinch every time. He was uncontrollable, and I didn’t know how to touch him without risking getting hurt.

“You can’t leave me, Jo. You can’t leave me.”

“I’m not leaving you. Why are you saying this?”’

“I saw him. I saw you. You can’t leave me. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill anybody who takes you away from me.”

He wasn’t making any sense. It was so painful to see him like that, especially when it was all for nothing. I loved him. He was the only man in my life. The only one I ever wanted, even when it was wrong. I’d been in love with him ever since that day in the library. I refused to believe it or even acknowledge it, but it was the truth. Try as I might, I couldn’t resist it.

His cries were strangled, so filled with pain it brought tears to my eyes, blurring my vision. Taking a deep breath, I summoned my courage and said to hell with it. What if I got a little hurt? I couldn’t watch him suffer. I had to do something. My arms jutted forward fast and managed to bind his. Swiftly, I brought him into my embrace before he resisted me.

He was covered in sweat when I held him. I placed his cheek on the left side of my chest so he could hear my heart, like a mother would do to her baby to soothe him. Mom used to do that with me, and it always helped. “Ty, it’s me. It’s just me. Please stop. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He opened his eyes. They were bloodshot, narrowed at me, filled with rage and pain, and tears streamed down his face. He stared blankly at me, like he wasn’t aware it was me holding him at first. Then recognition hit his face. The hostility that had been rolling off him began to leak away. His bleeding hand and lower lip trembled, and more tears spilled from the corners of his eyes. “Jo…” he choked out my name.

This was beyond anything I felt capable of dealing with, and yet, it fell on my shoulders. Even if it wasn’t my fault, he was like this because of me. I had to fix it. And the only way I could think of was letting him know I was here and never leaving. “I’m here, waiting for you to come back,” I whispered as his body stopped jerking. “That’s right. Come back to me.”

He let out a troubled moan and burrowed his face into my chest. He held me back so hard I could barely breathe, as if terrified I’d be ripped away from him, blood from his hands seeping into my clothes. It didn’t bother me. I let him squash me, let him have all the reassurance he needed because I knew what it literally felt to have someone you loved ripped away from your arms. If that was how Ty really felt, then all the pain he was showing on the outside was only a fraction of what was inside.

He dragged me into his lap. I brought my arms up around his back and held him. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Ty. I’m here.”

His whole body shuddered as he sobbed into my hair. I could barely see a thing past my own tears. I just needed him to be better.

“I need you, Jo. You don’t know how much I need you. You’re the only good thing in my life. Please, don’t deny me. He clutched me harder. “Don’t leave me.”

I stroked his back, drawing invisible circles to soothe him. “I’m right here.”

“Forever?” he asked, one of his hands grasping the back of my neck in a possessive way. The way of it combined with his tone worried me. Even triggered a fear in me. Yet, in a twisted way, made me want to ride him while he captured me like that the whole time and show him how much I, too, needed him.

As if he’d read my thoughts, he slid down our pants and pulled me down on his cock. “Forever, Jo?”

He was eighteen. What was forever to him? He might have looked like he’d meant it, but he didn’t. When you had your whole life ahead of you, the only constant was change. Forever meant everything and nothing.

“Forever…is composed of nows,” I said, slowly taking him in.

“Not Emily Dickson.”

I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “From this…experienced here…” I recited between moans as I rode him. “Remove the Dates…to these… Let months dissolve in further months… And Years…exhale in years.”

“I hate that poem,” he rocked his hips, moving with me, grinding into me, “but you look so fucking hot, reciting it while riding my cock, my little faerie.” With his hand on the back of my neck, he pulled me down some more, filling me deeper, giving me pleasure I never knew existed, never knew I needed. “The present mixed with reasons gone… And past and present all as one… Say maiden can thy life be led… To join the living to the dead… Then trace thy footsteps on with me… We’re wed to one eternity.”

John Clare’s haunting and unnerving poem coming from Ty’s mouth after that episode triggered more fears in me. The poem talked about a man who beckoned his lover into death, that one eternity they would both join.

I dismissed it in denial. He couldn’t mean it. Not literally.

“Forever, Jo?” he repeated in a breathy voice, relentlessly as the way he fucked me.

What was forever was the memory of that fucking I’d remember until the day I died, yet I said it. “Forever,” I promised even though I knew it meant more to me than it meant to him.

Or so I’d thought.

A week later, the school found nudes and videos of pornographic nature of female students on Lenard Grant’s computer. He swore he’d never seen them before and had no idea how they landed on his school computer. It didn’t make any sense for him to store them there if they were really his. It was a strange coincidence they all belonged to girls Ty had fucked.

Lenard Grant resigned to avoid charges and never taught again.