TAT Box Set

by Emjay Soren

  “Did Mikey talk to him or the guys yet?” I asked Roni who had shown up just as Harvey left. Was I so far off in my own head that reality and the here and now were slipping away? I needed control.

  My big brother Mike and Shamus had been best friends since childhood, all the members of Thick as Thieves went back years, but it was Mikey, Chad the lead singer and rhythm guitarist, Cal the lead guitarist and Shamus the drummer that had been childhood friends. They brought Noah the bassist into the fold about five minutes after meeting him. They were just destined to be friends, much like me, Carrie, Candy and Roni. Mike and Shames friendship, though still strong, is now strained because of me and the secrets I demand Mike keep. Mike was never a member of the band, only a fan and his dream was always to marry and impregnate my bestie.

  It has been said a time or two that brothers are gross, and I will testify to that every day of the week and twice on Sunday.

  “Yeah he talked to him early this morning.” Roni sighed, and I squeezed my eyes shut wanting, desperately to block out the pain. “Shame went straight to Carrie and Chad's last night once they were in. He's at Jerry's now with Mike and Chad.”

  “Noah and Cal are coming after he wraps up a few things in Gig for the wake and Candy said she was on her way home now.”

  Candy is my roommate and fellow trouble maker since we are the last ones to get married or have babies. I did both in the dark and alone and Candy along with the rest of this silly little group of misfits, ripped me out of it.

  I was terrified at first to live by myself but Mike and Roni’s with all the love and babies wasn’t the place either. Candy and Carrie took me in and now it's just Candy and me and I love living with her corky ass.

  Where Roni and I were besties for life, Candy and Carrie were as well. Candy had an ongoing and sometimes rigid relationship with Noah, cementing the fact to Carrie that brothers were indeed gross. Candy was everything awesome and true, just like her last name. She never spared feelings, spoke her mind and loved fiercely.

  She was in love with Noah and he with her though they fought it daily. I was still in love with Shamus and there were more secrets, hurt and anger between us than any ocean could distance us. I could and would never judge Candy for her fight for Noah. Noah was worth the fight, he just didn’t know it.

  I wanted Shame to fight for me, to save me. There were so many times that he would willingly defend my honor, some things were small, some big. I had dreamed day and night, every hit, kick, hair pull; every verbal attack of my worthlessness, my looks or my smarts. Every single time I went to my fantasy of Shame coming and saving me.

  Little girls are no different from women. We all want a knight on a white horse to save us. My knight is a tattooed drummer who rides a kick drum for a living. I chose a sociopath who hated me for reasons he believed.

  He is was only right for hating me when it regarded Shamus. I would die for Shame. He is my one and only and Cory knew it and despised me for it.

  I went through moments of truth, believing I deserved it all because of my mistakes. Those moments are no more. I fought to fight and fight I did.

  Now I will never be knocked down again and grab my happiness where I can and let it ride.

  There is no happiness in this sorrow however. I had dreamed of seeing Shame again one day and always thought it would be at Carrie and Chad’s wedding. I never wanted him like this.

  Shamus had ruined me in a sense; had left me empty and I had moments of blame towards him. Had he never left I knew we would have been together still doing what Chad and Carrie are.

  I can admit to myself now that yes, I went out, gave in to the first guy who noticed me trying to feel that fire again. I was addicted to being in love and just wanted it back. It was Cory that took me, and it was Cory who was desperate to never let you go.

  I learned then and there that loneliness was a desperate bitch for a mistress, and that fucking mistress almost killed me.

  Jerry worked damn hard to put me back together. I had an entirely different outlook on life, one that I knew Shamus would never understand. I had taken great lengths to keep him from finding out how far down I had fallen in to hell.

  Shamus being back was jeopardizing all my hard work and struggle to maintain this new outlook. Shame would see through me like crystal.

  I cried to myself though not wanting my selfish thoughts to intrude with my girls around. My chest was a burning ache, the pain of losing Jerry so strong I could barely get a breath. I could see his drunken crooked smile and his blood shot eyes. That was Jerry. To others he was a drunk. He had more to offer the world than anyone gave him credit for. He was beautiful and full of love.

  Chapter Two

  Cassa

  I stood at my chipped and ugly green counter and opened the liquor cabinet. A drink was fitting for the emotions, but also offensive considering the bottle killed Jerry. Most people would find it disturbing to honor a drunk’s ‘death by bottle’ with a bottle of liquor. Jerry would see it as a compliment even if it felt horribly wrong. I wasn’t used to drinking unless it was wine. I used to be a beer girl, I had been able to slam a shot of Whiskey and not blanch at the burn. That was BCN; Before Corey Knox. Corey wanted a wife who was class not crass, so wine had become my drink of choice. I fucking hated wine.

  I threw the bottle against the wall in the kitchen, watching as the red wine dripped onto the floor. I stared unable to care enough to clean the mess. I hated what I have become. I hated the echo of Corey in my mind. I hated the memory of Shames breath on my skin. I hated watching Jerry die last night. I hated everything in that moment.

  “Come on Cass. Let’s get you in a bath yeah?” This was Candy that was now pulling me to my small bathroom where Carrie was running the tub and the smell of honey suckle was thick in the room.

  “Where did Roni go?” I ask in a daze and slip into the hot water, feeling relief as the suds engulf me. What is it about a bath that helps clear the mind?

  “She left a few minutes ago. Noelle is tired and hungry, and Roni knew you needed me baby cakes, so I get the night off.” Carrie winked at me before handing me a loofa and my body scrub.

  Carrie was sweet for pretending but I knew these girls. I was one of them. They had every intention of making me look like a model tonight. I saw the evidence of my teeny tiny closet spread out through my room.

  Candy God bless her, rounded the corner with a squat glass of whiskey in her hand. “For me?” I ask perking up.

  “Obviously baby.” She says and hands me the glass.

  “So, I know what you guys are doing seeing as the evidence of this little makeover is scattered across my room. But why?”

  They both started laughing and Carrie stood to gather my straightener and other hair supplies. “No straightener tonight.”

  They both look at me and Carrie giggles knowing damn well why I would wear my thick curly hair all-natural tonight. “Good point. Shame always loved your hair when it was wild and curly.”

  Carrie was talented in making a confession look like an idea. I loved her for many reasons but that one was a big one. She knew all my secrets and I knew hers, a night spent in the hospital when my truth was obvious to everyone. Carrie took my abuse and told me about her own. She referred me to her therapist and has never forced me to talk. Carrie’s secrets could rival anyone’s, and she always understood the value of trust and secrecy being hand in hand.

  “What time is the open house thing anyway?” I ask Candy who is now handing me shaving cream and razor in her other hand.

  “I love you Sass but those legs are like a cactus.”

  She didn’t stop once she caught her error in calling me Sass, knowing I hated that fucking name. I shrug and act like I didn’t notice either.

  “No one to feel em, why risk another scar?” The bathroom had been filled with laughter even through sadness, until like usual my dark side pops up and ruins it.

  “Jesus Cass!” That was Carrie and of course I knew how bad that sound
ed and so quickly I fix my error in words.

  “Calm down Beckett.” I smirk.

  She pokes her tongue out and flashes her beautiful ring, a single karat solitaire with tiny diamonds around the band. Chad had proposed with his grandmother’s ring and asked that she say yes with that ring and marry him with it. This ring is the everyday ring because the other is an antique and too special. I know this because I got the play by play from Carrie over a year ago.

  I extend my un-shaved leg from the bath and blow a raspberry when she sees the serious nicks all over my legs that are now healing. I shrug, “dull razor.”

  “Been there.” She and Candy both say but are quickly back to my beauty regiment. I knew they weren't buying my cover, they knew damn well what I meant but like true girlfriends they pretend with me for the moment and accept my lame excuse.

  “Seriously though what time is this thing?”

  “Seven but we aren’t going until it’s at full swing because that would be awkward.” This is Carrie and she is sorting my make-up and setting her choice items aside.

  “That’s why I love you.” I say and start shaving my cactus legs much to Candy’s delight.

  “Chad will text me when the place is crowded, and we are gonna go in stealth.”

  “Not me. I’m heading over early with Noah. He is talking to the press at Jerry’s at five, so I said I would come and get the place clean.” Candy is blotting her perfect pink lips with come-fuck-me-red.

  “No, I cleaned it last night while he was asleep.” I said remembering seeing him lying there weak and pissed I wouldn’t feed him a glass of whiskey.

  “Mikey said Shame trashed the place when he got there. He called Mike about ten minutes ago and told him to take him to his house in Gig and he would get someone to clean it.” Carrie replied softly.

  “So, he is in Gig and not at Jerry’s?” I ask, and I don’t know why I’m so mad about it.

  “Yeah Hun, he needed a break. He was upset Cassa.” Carrie was usually the peace maker between her and Noah and it tended to flow over to our group. I knew what she was saying made sense.

  “I know.” I grumble and then dunk my head in the water. Then I cringe because I had just shaved in that water. I stood and closed the curtain starting the shower, so I could get clean.

  They took that as the cue to leave me to business but all they did was leave me alone with my thoughts and memories of Shamus in the shower washing me, touching me and whispering he loved me.

  We had been free, free to be together almost always because Jerry was a crabber and gone a lot in the winter and Mike didn’t have a word to say seeing as he and Roni were doing what we were. It was the times we had to sneak around that were the best though.

  Tonight, I was sneaking into Jerry’s house but for completely different reasons than the thousands of times I did it before.

  Chapter Three

  Cassa

  I stood before the mirror, the steam from my shower creating a fog as I wiped the condensation away with the edge of the towel, sighing at the scars on my body and the dark circles under my eyes. I hadn’t been sleeping much the last few years. The last few days were no exception. I set to task, creating the image I liked to portray. I had once been a careless and flawless girl… now I preferred to be a strong independent woman and that was who I needed to be now.

  I was strong then too, just my strengths are weighed differently now. My sadness over Jerry was a weakness I am willing to allow. I knew in time I would get past the feeling of loss but until then I would bury my nose in work and move on like I always do. I have mastered the art of hiding my pain and persevering. My secrets have made me OCD about looking the part of the strong capable woman who isn’t afraid of anything.

  I didn’t want Shame seeing my truth, not now, maybe not ever. There were too many things I was scared to answer. I admit to being a pussy when it comes to accountability with Shamus James.

  So, what?

  I met Shamus in elementary and from that day forward, I made sure I had him thinking of me. It started with throwing mud pies at him when I was seven and him and Mike were teasing me. They were four years older and jerks. I would tag along when they were hanging around the docks hitting on girls and talking about music, while my pre-teen self would wonder if he had kissed a girl.

  He had worked for Jerry since he was born practically. In high school Jerry even hired me to work in the office doing the filing and paying the bills but by then Shamus was all about the band and in a bad mood when he had to work the boat. It was there that I noticed Shamus in a different light. No longer the boy who called me Cassa-nova, a name that made no sense but had the ability to make me cry every time he teased me. He had become the sexy brooding rock star that every girl in Pierce County wanted.

  When my final year of high school came Shame noticed me… and the rest was history. We had plans to head off for California and follow the rock star dream. Shamus had an uncanny naturalness when it came to music. He would hear a song once and then he would drive you crazy playing it over and over until he could play it himself. I never once doubted if he would make it big. He was born to be on stage seducing women with swagger and talent guiding him. Shame was always with me, so he made sure to wing man for the guys and ensure they had fangirls on each arm. He had a reputation for loving me and though some fangirls tried to sway him, they never did. Shamus was faithful to the very last day.

  I knew what he looked like on a stage and the vision of him owning it. He never wore a shirt; his muscles were defined even from a distance. He always wore shorts and chucks and smiled like it was the best thing in the world beating on drums. He smiled at me like that too. I cut off the thoughts abruptly. There was no sense in rehashing the past. Shamus left me behind when he followed that dream. It paid off too. He was the drummer for Thick as Thieves. He was Hollywood now and I would forever be Gig Harbor.

  I knew why I was nervous at seeing him today, but I didn’t like the effect he had on me. I hadn’t seen him in forever- and yes two years without the man you love is forever- and now he was back and in a bad place too. Jerry and Shame fought hard, but they loved one another harder. I knew even if Jerry wouldn’t tell me, I knew they had made amends a few years back. No matter how pissed I was at Shamus, I was damn glad that they had made things right before it was too late.

  I would be dressed casually knowing that Jerry would call me a drag if I dressed nice for this ‘gathering’ as it was being called. It was at Jerry’s house and it was sure to be full of a bunch of crabbers and crabbers were not the sexy kind. I could have worn a flannel shirt and long johns and they would have probably balked at that.

  There would be family friends and of course TAT and all the roadies and the team of TAT and they might like a nicer outfit out of me. Image was such a bitch and something I was able to free myself of. I had once loved being fashionable and full on girly. I loved make-up and clothes and owned being a girly girl...until Cory ruined that too. Cory had suggested I do a lot of things to reach the level of perfection he thought necessary for a wife of his status. That included looking a specific way and it sure as hell wasn’t a pair of jeans and a plain shirt.

  Okay so yeah, I made sure they were my best fitting tight as skin jeans with white stitching and blinged out crosses on the pockets; coupled with a black low-cut top that Carrie demanded I wear. She knew that accenting the ladies would, if anything, make Shamus sweat. For a twenty-two-year-old, I felt thirty-two but glad I had years ahead of me and looked twenty-two.

  My hair is a honeyed brown and naturally curly that Shame loved. Cory hated the curl in my hair and on more than one occasion he had referred to it as a rat’s nest. I was careful to wear it straight after that, even though I had always preferred the curls.

  I hated my ex-husband. On more than a rare occasion, I did things that Corey had normally denied me and that was most everything. Why I still found it hard to ignore his voice in my head, I fought him tooth and nail, hating that even though
he was locked up and I was safe… I still found myself keeping to so many of his demands. Maybe it was the things he said, or the way he had made me feel but regardless, I just couldn’t clear him from my mind all the way.

  I knew it was because I didn’t trust that he was gone forever. Lurking in the back of my mind, it was like a countdown to when he would reappear. So many nights I had awoken from a calm sleep terrified that he was in the room. Dozens of times I woke restless and groggy. When that happened, I would rush to the bathroom and inspect my body for needle punctures. Cory had taken to drugging me when I ‘misbehaved’ and so many, too many times to count I had awoken from a drug hangover.

  The day I left the hospital I’d held my breath all the way to the lawyer’s office to file for divorce as ‘No Contest’ and report him to the bar for the attempted murder charge, the manslaughter charge, the stalking in the first-degree charge and the assault with deadly intent charge. He had been barred from practicing law ever again and two months later it was final, and Corey was behind bars. Until I saw him with my own eyes on the opposite side of the bars, I hadn’t been able to walk down the street. I had been terrified that he was lurking waiting to jump out of the bushes and finish his job. That was just over two years ago but the effect of his abuse still clung tight.

  I motioned my body with a quick hand not wanting to linger too long at the scars across my abdomen. I slid my hand across the deep scars that were still bright pink and visible even with Noah's beautiful art now covering them.

  Cory had left his mark and though the doctors had tried to fix the mess he made, they were still a mess of jagged lines and ugly as hell.

  I traced my hands over the one thing I loved and had been working on with Noah. I applied the cream along my hip and over my ass as I followed the detail I loved so much. The tattoo was a piece of art. The designs and patterns were tattooed in thick black and crawling up my hip, around my backside, over my ribs and landing beneath my left breast in tribal tree branches with bright pink cherry blossoms, some bloomed and some not. The tattoo took an entire year for me to save the money and get it done in pieces. I had wanted a reflection of my mind’s eye and called Noah every chance I had and begged him to do the work. Every time he was in town he added me, and I always had to sneak my money to him because he would never take it. The last time I finally told him that it meant everything to me to be able to pay for it with my money and not have to feel shamed by it.