"Just for the effect?" he ventures.
That only makes me cry harder. "You are an asshole."
I manage to turn around and slap his face again.
"Motherfucker," he growls. My fingerprints are clearly visible on his cheek.Good.
"You are completely crazy," I spit out. "What the hell were you thinking, doing that?"
"I wasn’t thinking."
"Clearly, not," I say through gritted teeth. "When I saw the flames… I… I …." I shake my head, "I thought, you…you…." I burst into tears again, and this time, he pulls me close.
He drags me against him, he wraps his arms around me, and he presses me close to him. He tucks my head under his chin and rocks me, "I am sorry, Sunshine, really I am. I am not sure what came over me. But I was tired of being in Xander’s studio, sitting in his chair, holding his one-time girlfriend, surrounded by his talent, and I wanted to make a point."
"So you set yourself on fire?" I burst out.
He winces. "I… I have a strange relationship with fire," he murmurs. "It started when I was very young. As you know, my mother became a sex-worker to support us. Initially, she rented a room in London’s East End, which is all she could afford. Her clients came to visit her, and normally, she saw them when I was at school or outside playing. Once though, one of her clients came when I was home from school. I was ill that day, so my mother was taking care of me. This client, though, wouldn’t take no for an answer. He barged in, insisted on being with her. So, she made me as comfortable as possible in the closet, and I must have fallen asleep. When I woke up, the closet was filled with smoke. I saw the flicker of flames through the slats in the door," he swallows "and I began screaming for my mother, but there was no answer."
"What happened then?"
"I lost my mind, threw myself against the door, which gave away. I stumbled outside to find the client gone, my mother unconscious from the smoke, and the room on fire."
"Oh, my god," I grip his hand, "how did you escape?"
“I threw open the door, tried to drag my mother out, but she was too heavy. I ran outside screaming just as the firemen burst onto the landing. One of them spotted me right away. He came over and rescued me. I was still yelling at them to save my mother. A second fireman ran by us and he carried my mom out of the room. Only then, did I allow myself to lose consciousness. When I woke up, I was in a hospital and the same fireman who had saved me, was sitting next to me. He told me that my mother was okay and that everything was going to be fine."
"And was it?" I whispered. "Did everything turn out fine?"
"I’m here, aren’t I?"
"That’s not an answer."
"What was the question?" His lips twist.
"Did things improve after that?" I ask.
"Thomas Sutton—that was the name of the fireman who saved me—he married my mother," he replies.
"He did?" I brighten, "So you found a home and a father?"
"Briefly." He draws in a breath, "Their marriage didn’t last long. Turns out, my mother was addicted to the sex, so she couldn’t stay faithful. She began turning tricks. Thomas tried to put up with it as long as possible. But their marriage broke up and my mother went back to whoring, only this time, as a higher-end call girl. She began making enough money to put me through private school. She passed away when I was sixteen and Thomas became my guardian. He adopted me and I took his surname. I stayed with him until I turned eighteen."
"So, things still turned out okay."
"If it weren’t for the fire, Thomas wouldn’t have come into my life," he agrees.
I trace the scars that run up his forearms. "These are from that fire."
He nods, "I admit, I still have nightmares about that sometimes."
"That’s why I heard you scream in your sleep the other night."
"Not proud of it," he murmurs, "but I survived."
"It’s not a sign of weakness to admit that you are still traumatized by something that happened when you were a child." I cup his cheek, "I am glad you told me. I think, maybe I understand you a little better now."
"Do you?" he asks, a strange look in his eyes. "Do you really get me?"