Saving Moxie

Forgiveness

I ripped the gray sheets off of me, ignoring the smell of that rippled off my body. I hadn't washed them in weeks before I ran off and honestly, I didn't know when the last time Jack had washed them before I came back. How often were you supposed to wash sheets anyway? Before Jamie, I had never washed my sheets except for after s*x. It's hard to know little things about life like that when you are raised like a stray dog. Honestly, up until Jamie was in my life again, I assumed I always would be a little feral. I hadn't gotten out of bed in a few days, only getting up to use the toilet. Jack generally left me alone, afraid that if he bothered me much I would take off again. I could tell he was growing irritated with my 'lack of responsibility', since I had immediately told him that I wouldn't meet anyone new right away.

Time to put off coming face to face with Dax again was running thin. I wasn't certain it was Dax that I was supposed to be meeting with, but Damian's words rang through my head every day. I couldn't buy any more time. Jack had already been in to b***h at me a couple of times today, telling me to get up and stop being pathetic. 'He's just a boy', he said, 'you're better than this.'

I stepped into the shower, I let the warm water soothe my irritated skin. I winced as the pressure of the grimy water changed and hit my cuts and bruises, but continued to wash my hair. Jack had smacked me around after I showed up on his doorstep and while I hadn't howled in pain or fought back, I knew I had lost my edge. Jack knew it too. He instantly had asked when I had gotten so soft and told me he was disappointed in me. He didn't seem to mind that he left marks on my face anymore, but seemed to regret it later when I pointed out that our 'new associates' may not enjoy looking at me if I was too rough looking. Maybe that was why he was allowing me to have a few days to recover before throwing a fit about my refusal to meet new people. The pain of the beating and the harsh water on my sensitive skin was almost a welcoming reminder of Jamie's safety. It reminded me that I was alive. So long as Jamie was safe, I could continue on.

A million different thoughts ran through my head as my fingertips scrubbed over my scalp. Was Jamie looking for me? Did Roxie know I disappeared?

I wondered if Damian had tried to pull the location on my cell phone yet. I had taken it with me when I left, tucking it in my back pocket. The screen had cracked a little from me falling on my ass a few times during my beat down, but it seemed to still work. It had been off since I got back to Jack's, but I knew if I really needed help, I could turn it on and Damian would be able to find me fairly quickly. I hadn't brought a charger with me, mostly because it would be impossible to hide a phone from Jack if he saw a charger. I had to preserve the battery and I had once heard someone say that no one could pull a location off of a phone if it was shut off. Maybe that was false information, but no one had busted down the door yet so I thought there must be some truth to it.

"If you can get up to shower, you can host guests!" Jack called from my room. He had removed the door when I came back, not wanting me to have any thoughts of disappearing out the window again.

I sighed, and pulled my fingers through my still-soaked hair. He just wouldn't give up. I kept telling myself that it was my decision to come back.

"Hurry up, Moxie!"

I sighed again, pulling an extremely oversized sweatshirt over my head. I didn't want to wear anything that a male could consider to be attractive. The only person who would see my body from now on was Jamie and his attention was out of the question now and forever.

It only took a couple of steps to go from my room to the living room where Jack slept, but when I reached the main room he was nowhere to be found. I felt pain ricochet through my back as I turned, a gasp slipping through my lips.

"What the hell, Jack?!" I yelled, whipping around to come face to face with his angry glare.

"What are you wearing?"

"Clothes. What are you wearing?" I fired back without a pause.

"You're seriously going to meet our new business partners looking like that? Come on, Moxie. When did you become such a f*****g prude?"

Since I deluded myself into believing that I belonged to Jamie.

"I have bruises on my arms and legs, dad. You agreed that I shouldn't show off my punishment." He nodded then, as if he were just remembering the conversation.

"Well, go change. The ink should cover up most of it anyway. We can put an exciting spin on it like we used to." He actually looked pleased with himself. "Remember all the awesome stories you used to come up with?"

"Yeah, dad, I remember." I offered with a sigh. I was so tired. Tired of the lies, tired of the bruises, tired of pretending any of this was normal or okay.

I wondered how much abuse I could take and still love someone. I wondered how long my father could treat me like nothing but still want him in my life. I wondered how many years it will take to forget the emotional and physical scars, how long I could burn myself with false hope of change in the future. I tried to remember back to when I was a little girl, eating peanut butter sandwiches with him outside of mom's studio.

He hit me again, a blow across the face. The power behind the hit was enough to knock me backward on my butt. I was shaky from the lack of food the past couple of days and it made it difficult to defend myself against even Jack. I cursed myself for being so weak, especially now that I knew how dangerous Dax could be. Tears of frustration fell down my face before I could even register what was happening.

"I'm sorry, Mox. I know. I think the kid messed you up."

"I'll never forgive you."

The power of those words rushed through me, burying all the horrible memories of my childhood. It overtook all the cracks my mom's neglect and abuse and my father's addictions and manipulations had created, filling them with a sense of numbness. I could forgive my mother for being cruel and not loving me. I could forgive my father for using me to sell his drugs, leaving me to clean up his messes and pay his debts. But I would never forgive him for taking the possibility of a normal life away from me.

His fist connected with my cheek like a brick and pain exploded through my skull. I vaguely heard my father call me a b***h before my vision turned dark as the world around me disappeared.