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Insomnia (Sexual Misconduct Volume I)(3)

By:Bethany Bazile






The Voices in My Head


Xander

I don't know why I let my mother talk me into this. I thought I left this kind of thing behind in California.

The only good thing about being home was if I kept a low enough profile,  I'd start to feel like a regular human being again. Not some famous  entity whose life was up for evaluation every single day.

Coming to this party wasn't only a favor to my mom, but my dad who  passed away six weeks ago. In his years in this town, my dad had become a  pillar. He went from prosecutor, to mayor, then senator in twenty  years.

His sudden heart attack left a burden on the state to replace him. This  gala was an annual thing he started ten years ago when he'd become  senator. Mom wasn't ready to make a public appearance, and with me being  the in control son, it was up to me to represent the family and, most  importantly, my dad.

As I stood in the crowd among all the people my dad used to rub  shoulders with, his voice rang in my ears. Xander, you can't keep  hiding. I shouldn't have to always jump on a plane to come see you. When  are you coming home?

I shook my head to clear the memory. Jonathan Pierce had been a force to  be reckoned with. He was a staunch opponent, a devoted husband, and a  more amazing father than I deserved. Staying in this town was my way of  atoning for disappearing for so long.                       
       
           



       

"Your mom misses you," he'd said during one of his weekly calls.  Silence. I was always quiet when he started in on me about coming home.

"Xander?"

I sighed. "Yeah, Dad?"

"I've fixed everything for you. Haven't I always? What else do you need  me to do to get you to come home? How much more do I need to sacrifice  for you to show up? Even if it's just in passing."

Rewind time and make it so I'd never been such a selfish idiot.

They say a parent's love is the greatest gift. For me, it was a gift and  a curse. They poured their soul into me. Loved me and gave me  everything I desired, and I felt invincible. Like anything I wanted in  the world could be mine. Spoiled rotten is what it was, and it fit  because I still couldn't figure out how to get rid of the dark pit  inside me that made me want to take what I wanted and do anything to  keep it.

The one thing I inherited from my parents had been their capacity of  love. They loved big. But me? I loved hard. Dangerous love that brought  out a rotten selfishness in me, a dark urge to preserve the one thing I  became centered on.

"Love drives us to make mistakes, Xander. When will you start forgiving yourself?"

Fuck, I need a drink.

Sobriety wasn't working for me tonight. It was as if my father's ghost  was looming in the room, whispering in my ear. He was my second-biggest  regret in life and that just added to the dark burden I carried around.

Staying in this town wasn't easy, but it was my penance, my apology to  my dad for not being brave enough to stand up to my ghosts and come home  when he'd wanted me to.

"Xan," my dad's voice echoed in my head.

"Yeah, Dad," I whispered out loud to a memory, not caring who saw me  talking to myself. Fuck it. I was already going to see a psychiatrist; I  might as well go all in with the insanity.

"Things will change for you. When you find what you've been searching for, you won't have to fight so hard to keep it."

"I'm not looking for anything, Dad," I'd answered.

"You've always been looking. Mom and I always knew your love was too big  for you. When you loved someone, you loved completely, with no shields.  I know you shut that part of you down a long time ago, but one day  you'll open yourself up again."

And be pathetic again? I didn't think so.

"You've just got to trust in yourself, Xan. Trust that you're enough.  You deserve to move on, son. Deserve to be loved. You know we still love  you despite everything, right?" The golf-size ball of emotions stuck in  my throat kept me from responding. I nodded my head, though he couldn't  see me.

"You'll find someone to love you despite it all, too."

I'd hung up the phone that night without uttering another word. No, I  love you, Dad, thanks, Dad, or a simple bye, Dad. If I knew then that  would be the last time I'd ever hear his voice, I'd have told him all  those things. I'd have purged the hurt in me to the one person left on  this earth who would've understood.

I walked over to the bar and ordered a glass of water because-let's face  it-I was already mumbling to ghosts. I didn't need alcohol to induce  hallucinations. I decided to step outside for some air because it felt  like my dad's memory was suffocating me in that room. I stood in a small  alcove along the garden, where I thought no one would see me. After  twenty minutes and two people accidentally running into me and engaging  in conversation, I knew I'd be making an early exit.

As I stepped back into the hall, a flash of red hair caught my  attention. Maybe my mind was still playing tricks on me, but if Dr. Shaw  was really here, I had to find her. Suddenly, I was in less of a hurry  to go home and a bit fixated on finding her.





Bow Down


Avery

"Avery, darling, you look beautiful, as usual," Teresa Richardson said  as she air-kissed me on both cheeks. Her sickly sweet smile made my  stomach turn, but I pasted on a similar one as she started babbling on  about her new charity. I never felt comfortable at these parties. I was  too successful to mingle with the housewives, yet not successful enough  to mix in with the high-profile businessmen. Matthew chatted with  Teresa's husband, so I nodded and pretended to listen to what she was  saying. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate her charity work; I just  thought a little humility went a long way. I had a soft spot for those  who did charity work and didn't thrive on the praise that came with it.

I saw a waiter passing by with a tray of wine glasses and slipped away  to grab one. As I turned back to the group, I bumped into a solid wall  of muscles and spilled half my glass all over his tux.                       
       
           



       

"I'm so sorry." I quickly dug in my bag for a handkerchief and began to  pat the liquid off his seemingly expensive jacket. "I'm sorry I wasn't  looking and I-"

"It's fine, Dr. Shaw."

That voice stilled the movement of my hand. With all my flustering, I  hadn't even looked up to see my victim, but the smooth timbre of his  voice was unmistakable. I looked up and eyed Xander.

Tonight he wore a black tux that molded to his broad shoulders and hard  biceps. I wouldn't have thought it possible for him to look even more  devastating than this morning, but he did. He was flawless. And though  his hair still had that rumpled thing going, I was sure every strand was  meticulously made to look that way. He went from grungy exercise  clothes to seductively debonair in his tux effortlessly.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered as if he followed me here and we  shared some sort of dirty secret. If we did, I'd remember all the dirty  things I did to him-wanted to do to him.

"You didn't tell me you knew Xander Pierce," Matthew said as he joined us, hooking his arm around my waist.

"I don't."

"Now, Dr. Shaw, I thought we were becoming friends."

"We weren't." I shook my head.

"Matthew Evans, Avery's business partner." Matt held out his hand, and  Xander shook it. He looked between Matthew and me. I saw him trying to  figure out if we were just partners. Matt was a handsome man. The new  buzz cut thing he had going with his hair only accentuated his honey  colored eyes. At one point we had been more than just friends, but that  was years ago.

"I was trying to get a session with Dr. Shaw, but she was fully booked.  Or maybe she didn't care for my methods, because she shoved me to the  bottom of her list."

"That wasn't the case, Mr. Peirce. I have other patients who've had  appointments set for weeks. I can't just brush them aside because you  demand it."

"Of course you can." Matthew jumped in. I looked at him as if he'd lost his mind.

"No, I ca-"

"Excuse us." Matthew pulled my arm and dragged me a few feet away from Xander.

"Yes, you can," he hissed through closed teeth. "We have a lunch hour  together tomorrow. We'll reschedule and you'll see Mr. Pierce."

"You expect me to give up my lunch hour for him?" I jabbed my thumb back  toward him while looking over my shoulder. He stood there staring at us  with his arms crossed and a smug look on his face.

"Yes, I do. That's Xander Pierce!" I gave him an uncaring look and shrugged. "Xander Pierce …  Actor turned Hollywood producer?"

I'd never heard of him, but I guess that had a lot to do with me being mostly focused on school and work for so many years.