Page 62 of The Intimacy of Skin

“Looks like nobody really cared much for ’im.” Crew sank to the ground. His eyes were trained on the dingy, broken sign in front of him. “Kinda makes me happy.”

I winced when the damp ground seeped through my clothes as I joined him there. “Good riddance.”

Orange overtook any blue in the sky, mixing with pink while the sun began to set. Grieving family members cried as they carried wilted flowers to their vehicles. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a green blinking light.

Lightning bugs, as Crew called them. They were fireflies in my northern vocabulary. We were in the peak of Southern summer. I was trying not to give way to how much the humidity affected me, or how the heat was turning my body to liquid.

Leaves rustled to our right. A group of birds flew from the top, creating silhouettes in the sky, illuminated by fireflies and a Southern background full of crickets and cicadas.

It was so quiet, yet so loud. Full of life where death reigned. For the first time, I was able to appreciate the country life my boyfriend had grown up in. Not a single car honked. Streetlamps were spaced thinly beyond the plot of land, only giving the barest hint of light.

There was peace in the frogs that sang. Peace in the summer wind that blew over us.

The loudest silence I had ever heard amongst grass I’d never touched before and wildflowers my eyes had never seen.

Crew and I soaked in the energy around us, willing it to fuel our souls.

I had never been religious, but I understood why the people here would be.

With a world so beautiful, how else could they believe it?

A sharp intake of breath. Crew cleared his throat. I could hear a wobble to his voice, amplifying the emotions of the moment. The most magical thing happened when he began to speak. His voice, though tearful, was full of confidence.

And the world around us quieted… slowing until it was silent so he could speak his truth into the wind.

“Seeing you here,” he began, directing it straight in front of him. To the decrepit sign naming the demon he’d fought for so long. “Makes me feel the power I lacked when you were around. Every strength you stole from me or beat out of me. I can feel it now.”

I wrapped my arm around his middle, holding him to my side. Where he was usually ice-cold, I could feel a fire building from his core. It made everything stop. Nature let his voice be heard, above all else. Where Crew was silenced, he would be heard.

“I hate you. I hate your fucking guts, Thompson. You made me think you were safe. That you liked me. That you cared about me. But then you ruined me with punishments nobody deserved. I was a child, Thompson. A child . Not even the Devil himself would punish someone so innocent. You sick, perverted fucking freak. You made me think I was insane for hating it all. You made me believe it was okay. I thought it was okay. You got me to drag Tobi into it. You made me ruin another child’s life by introducing him to the Hell you deserved—not me, not Tobi, not any other fucking child you touched.

“I was fucking powerless, and you knew that. Not anymore, you sick fuck. I found someone who loves me, no matter the infraction. He showed me what happiness looks like. He showed me unconditional fucking love without hatred. Without bruises. I don’t need to bleed to live, Thompson.

” Crew sat up, maneuvering to his knees.

His entire body was shaking, barely containing the flames I could see enveloping him.

When he leaned forward, shouting at the ground, shouting at the Earth that covered the demon beneath it, I felt a tear of my own fall down my cheek.

“I never deserved it! None of it!” He slammed his fist onto the wet ground, letting his skin cake with dirt.

“It wasn’t my fault!” he screamed. “I was just a kid!”

His anguish came back to us in echoes. Every word, every scream, every guttural, crying yell tore into the skies bit by bit.

A final punch to the ground. “My skin is not defined by who touched it!” His scream came back, forcing the clouds to part and the moon to surface.

Relief forced Crew backwards as he cried. I caught him, wrapping my arms around him. The wind began to howl, the crickets started to chirp, and the fireflies lit up the world in front of us.

Both nature and I cradled Crew in that moment. Our comfort would never heal the hurt, but we could soothe it. My silence was overpowered by the country summer, allowing my tears to fall in unison with the frog that croaked in the small pond just feet away.

“My skin is not defined by who touched it, the scars that mark it, or the bruises that have faded from it.” Crew sniffled in my arms. “I am worthy of love. I am worthy of happiness. I am entitled to a life, and I refuse to stop living it because of the things an old fucker like you did to a child like me. I was powerless then. I am full of power now. And I’m gonna prove it every single day, Thompson.

I have Price and Willow. Callum and Tobi.

Jesse, Isaac, and Liam. The ghost of my mother.

I’m not alone anymore. You can’t hurt me anymore. ”

He began to stand, so I followed him, never releasing my arms from around him. Fireflies blinked in my peripheral, and we nodded in sync. We turned our bodies, facing Thompson’s grave. Crew spat on it first, and I spat on it next.

I hugged my boyfriend close, letting him bury his face into my neck. Two years ago, even this would’ve been too gentle for him. “Let’s go,” I whispered.

We walked to the car hand in hand. I could feel the tension Crew had released, and I could only hope he felt some peace. Lord knows he deserved it.

In just a few days, I knew he’d be smiling. I imagined it the entire way to the Bed ’n Breakfast, patting my pants pocket every so often just to make sure it was still there. Even before we had become official, I had promised myself I’d do anything to make Crew smile.

Then, and for the rest of my life.