L Pt Two

Light and playful questions were tossed about between the couple until Jordan was sure that she had eased up enough and was now more open to answering his grave questions, moreso, Emerald seemed to have sensed Jordan's concern and inner turmoil because by herself, she chose to steer their discussion towards that direction.

"How did you get your scar?" she whispered, stroking his jaw while tracing said scar that ran across his skin.

"From my father," he paused, catching her gaze. "He wanted to stab my mother with a pocket knife one day, but I got in the way and got beat up just like every other day." Emerald's eyes widened as she watched different conflicting emotions play out in his eyes.

"There were much more lining my arms, my torso, my back; they are still very much in existence, only just hidden beneath the expanse of ink," he smiled but it was nothing like his usual jaw-dropping one. This one was filled with limitless hatred and malice.

Running her hands across his naked torso, Emerald did indeed feel the numerous lines and small bumps marring his skin, especially his rib area. "Was that why you got your tattoos?" she asked.

"Hmm," Jordan hummed in agreement. "Seeing the scars always reminded me of him," he held back a snarl at the mention of his father. "Seeing them reminded me of how weak I was and I hated it, I hated myself. Getting the tattoos was a way to punish myself, to inflict pain on myself, but in a way, it also kept me grounded, it kept me sane.

Feeling the sting from the needle piercing my skin somehow diverted my focus from the strangling agony lodged in my being. The physical pain was way more bearable than the emotional one and in some twisted way, it was like my own personal pillar," he looked down at his chest, Emerald following his gaze to his mother's name engraved on the skin below his left breast.

"My mother's name was my first ever tattoo, but after that, I kept going back for more and more. I couldn't stop, Gem, until I had to focus on my little sister, until Carol needed me more than anything," he sighed, shutting his eyes. "I am twisted, aren't I?"

"No," Emerald shook her head, "you're not, Cal. You are anything but twisted, love. Strong? Brave? A survivor? Definitely, but twisted? Absolutely not. If anyone else should be aware of the concept of shunning emotional pain with the physical one, that person would be me.

But at least, you were still brave enough to choose life rather than death," her voice grew smaller, quieter as she ducked her head, moving her hands from around his shoulders and to her right wrist.

Jordan's eyes followed her action and he couldn't stop his heart from aching in his chest when he saw the multiple scars marring the skin surrounding her wrist. Their horrible and painful existence had always been well hidden behind the emerald bracelet that never seemed to leave her wrist until yesterday.

He gently grabbed her hand and placed soft kisses on the lacerated flesh while simultaneously thanking the heavens for keeping his Gem and for giving her more chances in life, regardless of how many times she had tried to cut her life short.

He didn't want to imagine what would've happened if she had cut too deep or if one of her cuts had been irredeemable. What would have been his fate? Where would he currently be? Would he have ever found love? Would he have ever found someone to keep him sane or would he have forever wandered the Earth like a savage beast?

Jordan shook his head, not wanting to bear such negative thoughts as he pulled her into a hug. "Don't ever do it again, okay? I don't want to lose you, Gem, I can't bear the thought of it. Please," he pleaded softly, only heaving a sigh of relief when he felt her nod her head against his shoulder.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, whispering, "thank you," before pulling away to look into her eyes. They said nothing to each other, revelling in the beat of silence that ensued before Jordan proceeded to voice his thoughts.

"How did you get-" he hesitated, heavily swallowing a ball of saliva as he contemplated whether Emerald was ready to answer his question or not. She slightly eased his worries when a faint smile creeped upon her face.

"My scar?" she completed, to which Jordan replied with a tentative nod. A moment of quietude soon followed as Emerald shied away from Jordan's gaze and seeing her troubled expression, the man was ready to change the topic when Emerald suddenly held his hand.

Her movements were slow and tender as she played with his fingers, softly caressing his tatted knuckles before extending Jordan's arm and placing his palm on the clothed swell of her left breast — the exact spot where the scar sat, mocking her rather fair and unblemished skin.

She exhaled a sigh, keeping Jordan's hand on her breast by resting her hands on his. Shutting her eyes, she whispered, "I guess I'd have to start from the beginning then."

Jordan, using his free hand, wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer, shielding her from the pain the memories of her past are about to unlock. He didn't want her to, once again, go through the agony she had fought so hard to overcome, but if walking through the darkness one last time would bring her the peace and light at the end of the tunnel, then it was best for her to open up.

Emerald, appreciating the heat radiating from Jordan's body to warm up her quickly freezing heart, began her story.

"We used to be a happy family. Simple but very happy. It was just my father, my mother and I. I had no older or younger siblings, no stepbrothers or stepsisters, no extended relatives to intrude on our privacy. It was the perfect triangle and we were all happy with our simple and easy life.

We weren't extravagantly rich nor were we poor and with what we could afford, I had all I could have ever asked for and more — a loving mother, a caring and faithful father, or so I thought."

She paused, her forlorn hues of green meeting his pool of solicitous and empathetic chocolate orbs for a split second before she stared straight ahead, her gaze choosing to remain on his naked chest.

"I had been too young, too naive to see past the façade my father had put in place of his true self. I had been too young, too naive to see the monster lurking beneath those sparkling eyes and wrinkled smile and when I had finally come to realize it, it was already too late and I suffered for it.

I paid dearly for making such decision blindly. I paid dearly for being so judgemental, for pushing her away, for chasing her out of my life, for choosing to believe that monster over my own mother."

Her hands shook and her fists wrapped around Jordan's hand, clenching him tightly as she sought his strength, his support. As she sought him as her pillar. Jordan wrapped his other arm tighter around her, providing her with the warmth and support she sought.

"I didn't know that my parents had been secretly quarreling. They had done an excellent job in hiding it from me but eventually, a crack formed in their wall and the smoke began seeping through.

It started with little arguments that would immediately turn into jesting jabs at my arrival, until it escalated to the point where at midnight, I would awaken severally to their supposedly hushed, yet frankly loud whispers of insults thrown at each other.

Other times when I would wake up extra early for a glass of water or something, I would catch my Mom sleeping on the couch in the living room, but I just thought they were having the usual couple's quarrel and that sooner or later, they would reconcile. Only they didn't.

I got tired of everything and one day, I called my father out on it because back then, I noticed that Mom began staying out late. In the mornings, I would only feel her kiss my forehead but when I woke up, she wouldn't be there.

Back then, I hadn't known that what she was doing was leaving some breathing space between herself and my father. I hadn't known that she was hurting and was trying to keep our family from falling apart, but being left in the dark and so young, my father had seen it as an avenue to poison my mind."

Noticing that her voice had turned grave, Jordan could only continue to give her little squeezes here and there while hoping that they provided her with the comfort she needed.

"When I confronted him on the matter, the bastard had actually had the luxury to look sad and betrayed," she chuckled humourlessly. "He said he didn't want me to know what was going on so I wouldn't hate my Mom. He said that he had found out that Mom was cheating on him and that when he had asked her about it, she had flipped out on him.

He had sounded so convincing, he had even faked tears just to gain my pity but I never saw the malicious intent behind those eyes of his. Even though I had been so young, I still loved both of my parents dearly and I found it hard to believe what he had said, so I decided to hear my mother's side of the story."

Emerald shut her eyes and her hands — which were gripping Jordan's, still lying on her chest — began shaking. Her eyelids peeled open and Jordan saw the frantic look and fear in her green eyes. Despite the A.C cooling the room, beads of sweat could be seen collecting on her forehead as her eyes seemed to plead with Jordan.

"I tried, Jordan. I really tried, but with her always fleeing the house, it was a difficult task. When I managed to get hold of her one late night, she had evaded the topic. She had told me to let it be and to not worry about it, but when I had attempted to push it further, she had snapped at me and sent me off to bed."

She grasped even tighter onto Jordan's arm, begging him to believe her. "Believe me, Cal. I had every intention to listen to what she had to say. I had absolutely no intention of believing my father over her, but she gave me no choice. Please believe me, Cal. Please," she sobbed, holding his hand as though her life depended on it.

With his one free hand, Jordan cupped her face, wiping the tears that streaked down her face while wishing he could do the same with the pain reflecting in her eyes. He would give anything just to take away those agonising memories of hers.

"I believe you, Gem. I believe you with my entire being. It was never your fault, love. Aunt Maggie should have trusted and spoke to you about it, but I don't blame her either. How old were you when this whole thing happened?" he asked, caressing her cheek.

"I was six," she whispered, "two years before I was raped."

"See? You were so young and your juvenile mind didn't need to be bothered by such things. If anyone is to blame, it's your father. He is the monster in this story."

Jordan comforted her and the hatred and spite he had for her father was more than evident in his voice. His malignant hands itched to snap the neck of the man who had caused his Gemstone so much pain, but unfortunately, said man was locked away in prison. Jordan could only hope he would rot in there.

If only they knew. . .

Emerald continued. "Ultimately, I began believing my father's words. Everything pointed to my mother having an affair — her sudden standoffish nature, her avoiding the house, even avoiding me and soon enough, I started to feel betrayed by her as well.

Her actions saddened me and I also began avoiding her. I stopped making efforts to talk to her and that made my father and I grow closer, so naturally, when the divorce happened, I chose my father over her. Her pleas and dejected expression still haunts me." She shut her eyes, trying to keep the burning sensation at the back of her throat, at bay.

"When she had pled with me to come with her, I had told her that I hated her. I had shouted at her, telling her that I never wanted to see her again. Makes me wonder how she could still look at me today and not be revolted by me. If only I had listened to her, I—" Her sentence was cut off when a sob racked through her.

Frustrated by the distance between them, Jordan pulled his hand from her hold, pulling her impossibly closer to him as he held her weeping figure to his chest, running his fingers through her hair to soothe her. After a few moments, she was able to calm down enough to continue speaking.

"A month after she left, my father started coming home late. Most times, he would come back utterly inebriated and that seemed to only worsen because soon after, he began bringing different women home, regardless of his six year old daughter, but I hadn't known that the worst was yet to come.

Three months after the divorce, he had asked me to boil him some water but what did he expect from a six year old, who could barely reach the kitchen counter? I ended up with a burn on my forearm but my father didn't care. All he cared about was his hot water and let's just say that that day, I got my first beating. And it only got worse."

Jordan visibly grew tense at her words and his mind decided to further aggravate him by subconsciously playing a scenario of a six year old Emerald getting slapped and beaten. In an attempt to suppress his own growing anger, he hugged her tighter to his chest.

"Every little thing I did resulted in either a slap or a harsh kick to my ribs — not preparing his breakfast or morning coffee on time, adding a little more sugar or cream than he'd like, missing a spot while cleaning, even my sleeping posture.

I don't know if you've probably noticed my weird sleeping habit," she mused.

Jordan nodded, remembering how he had found it quite weird for her to sleep so stiffly and with her eyes not completely shut as though she were weary of her surroundings.

Even during times where he had laid her to sleep sideways on her bed, moments later, he would find her recoiling to sleep as straight and as stiff as a log, her body laying right in the middle of the bed with her hands placed over her stomach — just like a corpse.

It had bothered Jordan and now he knew why. The monster had scarred her even in her subconscious world.

"He made me sleep on a mattress the exact same size as my body frame. A mattress so small, even the slightest toss or turn would result in me falling off and that was just akin to waving a red flag in front of a raging bull.

It took me a while to get used to it and everytime I would fall off and make the littlest noise, he would come charging into my room, beating me up and not caring that it was midnight. He scarred me enough to the point where even after I had moved in with Mom, some habits were already so ingrained in my brain, they couldn't be reversed."

Jordan's jaw ticked audibly and his arms wrapped tighter around Emerald. When she felt his body heating up with his brimming anger, Emerald ran her hand up and down his back, threading her fingers through the unruly hair brushing his nape.

"The torture went on for two whole years until one night," Jordan felt her heartbeat begin to escalate against his chest when she started talking again. "I was heating up his meal for him when one of his whores came strutting into the kitchen.

She was a regular fling so it wasn't the first time I had seen her and every single time, she would make crass comments about my body, about how I was a little bitch who was lucky enough to have the spotless skin she had always craved. She would always say how good I would look in a bordello, my innocence being ruined and shattered by men."

At this point, Jordan's jaw was near dislocation due to how tight he had clenched it.

"She always made lewd comments and suggested to my father that I be sold for some quick cash, but he would always dismiss her words and she hadn't acted upon it until that horrible night."

She inhaled deeply.

"Since it was nighttime, I was only dressed in a tank top and some pyjama shorts. I was doing the dishes when she walked in, began her crude talks again and as usual, I ignored her. She began talking about tattoos and how she had always wanted to draw one on someone, but once again, I ignored her.

I guess she didn't take likely to being ignored, because all of a sudden, she turned me around to face her and the next thing I knew, she was driving a hot knife along the skin of the left side of my chest."

Jordan stiffened, his mind numb and his whole system coming to a sudden halt as the only thing he could comprehend was how quickly and wildly his heart was pounding in his chest. He could feel his ears echoing, his brain torturing him with the vivid speculations of what that scene must have been like for Emerald.

He was brought back to reality when he felt her heavy breathing coming out fast and in short pants, fanning the crook of his neck. She was hyperventilating.

"I cried, I screamed, I fought against her but what strength did an eight year old have against an adult?" she sobbed, unconsciously digging her nails into Jordan's back as she fought to get air into her lungs.

"I begged her but she didn't stop. She continued to draw through my tank top with a crazed look in her eyes and a sadistic smile on her lips. She didn't stop, Jordan, she didn't." She hiccuped, heaving as Jordan quickly pulled away from her.

Holding her face in his hands, he angled her face so she could meet his eyes. Her eyes were bloodshot, leaking tears endlessly as she stared at him.

"Breathe with me, sweetheart, breathe. Inhale," she complied, "exhale. Name five things you can see," he instructed, waiting for her response as she looked around.

"The morning sky, the windows, the bed, the night lamp and you."

"Good job, baby. Now, name five things you can touch."

She shut her eyes briefly before opening them. "The comforters, the walls, the nightstand, my naked thighs and you."

Jordan nodded, seeing that she was slowly calming down. "Now, five things you love." She stared into his eyes as she answered.

"Your eyes, your lips, your hair, your tatted skin and you," she smiled, finally inhaling and exhaling softly when Jordan returned her smile.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he whispered, placing a lingering kiss on her lips before leaning his forehead against hers. The both of them remained quiet, reveling the peaceful silence that surrounded them.

"I'm so sorry for making you relive those horrible memories. I'm so sorry, Gem." Jordan apologized, earning an unsatisfied shake of Emerald's head.

"Don't apologise, Cal. I wanted to tell you all about it. Willingly. It was my own decision to do so and although I had to go down that painful memory lane, I have to admit, I've never felt as peaceful and as light as I currently feel.

I guess all I really needed was someone to pour it all out to," she met Jordan's eyes with a grateful smile and he placed a kiss on her forehead before going back to leaning his head against hers. "But I'm not done yet," she whispered.

"No," Jordan shook his head, "you don't have to tell me more. You don't have to say anything else. Really."

"But I want to. I want to let it all off my chest. I want to feel lighter," she pleaded with her eyes.

"Ok," Jordan agreed, "but you would have to summarize it all, alright? I don't want a repeat of what happened just now."

Emerald nodded firmly, pursing her lips as she thought of how to summarize the rest of her story. She blew out a breath, schooling her expression before starting.

"So, that night, my father came out, seething when he heard my screams. He saw me bleeding out on the kitchen floor and asked what had happened. I tried to explain but instead of believing me, his daughter, he chose to believe his whore who lied, saying that I had intended to stab her with a knife because she was taking my Mom's place in my father's life and that she had only taught me a lesson to not be disrespectful.

Her lies had made him even angrier and instead of taking me to a hospital, he had walked over to me and had slapped me right across the face before beating me up again. He didn't stop, even with my pleas, even with how I was almost bleeding to death, he still didn't stop and to this day, I can still recall vividly, the satisfied smirk that had played on the whore's lips."

Jordan watched her intently; her eyes were emotionless as they stared ahead, her face and voice hard as she wrapped up her story.

"I ran out of the house that night. I'm pretty sure if I hadn't, I wouldn't be alive today. Wondering the streets at midnight with no place to go, I had stumbled upon a middle-aged man, who appeared to be only a few years younger than my father at the time.

To a naive eight year old, he had seemed nice and was willing to help me. Like a fool, I had believed him until it finally happened. I was raped that night. Scarred. Broken."

She finally exhaled, moving her empty eyes to meet Jordan's gaze. "My Mom said an old married couple had found me when they were out on their morning run. They had called the hospital and police, who in turn, had contacted my mother.

My father, Carl Johansson, was put on trial. He was found guilty and finally imprisoned. When the police had tried to find my father's whore and my rapist, they had only discovered her dead body washed up amongst some bushes at a lakeside.

Narcotics were found overdosed in her system, however, my rapist was never found." Jordan's fists clenched tight, his knuckles turning white from the force.

Her rapist was never found.

"I was lucky, Cal. I was so lucky. What if my Mom had left Australia after their divorce? Would I have ended up in an orphanage? Or in foster care? Would I still be in Australia? Would I currently be strolling down the street where I was so brutally abused?

Or perhaps, I would have been dead by now. I wouldn't have met Logan or Oriana. I wouldn't have a loving stepfather like Luca or an amazing stepsister like Armani. I would have never met Alora or Levi or Sebastian or even Carol.

Most importantly, I wouldn't have met you." A tear trailed down her face as she lifted her hands to cup his face, her thumbs stroking the light scruff that had collected on his chin.

"Don't speak like that, Gem. I don't know what I would have become if I hadn't met you. I don't want to imagine what life would be like without you, Emerald. I don't want to imagine it. You're here now, in America, with your family, friends. With me. With everyone you love and who loves you back equally, sweetheart. That's all that matters."

Emerald nodded, wrapping her arms tightly around Jordan's neck as she looked into his eyes. She pulled him closer to her, his face inches away from hers when she closed her eyes and whispered against his lips.

"I want you, Cal."

With no hint of hesitation, Jordan crashed his lips against hers, taking her mouth in a slow, sensual and passionate kiss. That morning, he made love to her again. That morning, he showed her a new world — a world where there were no dangers lurking around the corners, a world where only they both existed.

That morning, he showed her how truly important she was to him, he showed her that she was his lifeline as he was hers.

That morning, he took away her pains, he made her forget her agonies, he renewed her memories and made them happy ones. Forever.

Or is it. . .?