What Brings Me to You by Loralee Abercrombie Page B

like that; would you calm down and listen to me for a second?" He was getting frantic, too, but I had him beat.
                  "Don't FUCKING TELL ME TO CALM DOWN! What the hell did you think I meant when I said, 'don't hurt me'?" Goddamnit, Teddy! I thought you were smart. I    didn't  think I'd have to spell out the whole sordid thing for you to get it. Don't you see? Every man in my life has treated me like shit! Every. Single. One. Did you need another 'case study' to help you understand that?"
                  "No, Charley, I don't have to know, you don't have to do this..."
                  "Well, you obviously didn't    get it so maybe you do need a visual. C'mon," I didn't want to. He was right he didn't need to know, but now that I'd started, I couldn’t stop. I led him down the narrow staircase and three doors down to an empty bedroom, talking the whole way: " Caleb? Called me "mutt" my entire life. He'd make barking noises when he'd see me; I doubt he even knows my name." I burst in the bedroom and flipped on the light. The room was just like I remembered, he hadn't really changed it since he was fourteen; posters of Carmen Electra from her Baywatch days over the navy and yellow-clad four poster, GI Joes all over the top of the bookcase. I hadn't stepped foot in here since he went off to Westpoint. I swore I never would, but I needed Teddy to see. To feel.   
                  "Adam had his own brand of brotherly affection." I was spitting venom and Teddy's face blanched. "Don't look so shocked,    Gunther, " It was a low blow to use his name as a weapon against him, but I didn't care, I was on a roll. "Look in the top drawer," I commanded.
                  "No." his hands were balled into fists and he was shaking. I didn't care. I wanted him to hurt just like he'd hurt me.       
                  "Too scared even to open a drawer? 'Fraid the boogie man will jump out at you?" Part of me wanted to laugh at how ridiculous I was being taunting him like that. I'd never allowed myself to get worked up, to be angry about it, not like this, anyway. It was liberating. "Okay, I'll do it then." pulling open the drawer, inhaling the stale, musty, wood odor I almost vomited. There was a moment when I'd felt the flat envelope under my finger that I recoiled. I could've ended it. A split second where I could've stopped because I knew this was something from which my relationship with Teddy would not recover. Relationship ?    Listen to yourself! He doesn't want you, he threw you away the second he got a taste. I didn't stop. Because I wanted to control how it ended with him . I shouldn't have let him get close and I was going to make sure this time he ran away screaming .       
                  "Here!" The envelope hit his chest and all he did was stare at me; the fear in his eyes was like he was being hunted. Maybe he was. I    was     preying on is emotions. Deep inside I knew the punishment didn't fit the crime but I wanted this. I wanted him to hurt.
                  "Open it," I commanded but he just stood there. Impatiently, I wrenched it from his hands careful not to tear it as I turned up the flap, then, dumped the contents out onto the floor. I knew what the pictures were. I didn't have to look. Instead, I trained my eyes on his face. At first he didn't want to look and we were locked in a staring battle but I knew I could outlast him. When he looked away the disgust registered immediately.
                  The pictures were old, but no less disturbing. "Yea," I sneered, I mean    actually     sneered,    "made me go down on him from the time I was nine until I was twelve years old and that’s only because he left. He lured me in here with food. Contrary to what Paul told the counselors at my school who thought I was anorexic, they never fucking fed me around here. I ate at