Tethered Souls

by Beth Flynn

  "I'm not used to having gloves on. It feels weird,” I whined.

  We were in the back room of a gym run by one of Christian’s friends. I'd rolled my eyes when we’d first pulled up. I'd confessed to him early on that I was not a fan of exercise, so I’d hoped maybe we were there so he could lift weights, something that had never interested me either. Of course, I wouldn't mind watching him pump iron. Me? I'd rather lie naked in a bed of fire ants.

  I went at him with everything I had, but it still wasn't enough. He continued to push me until I was on the brink of exhaustion, my shirt saturated with sweat. I slowed down attempting to catch my breath. He knew I needed to rest and stopped prompting me for a minute.

  When I got my second wind, he suggested, "Think about something or someone who makes you mad. It'll give you a reason to come at me, Mimi."

  Left jab. Right cross. Thump-thump! I didn’t know what I was doing but at least he’d told me what the hits were called.

  "You're not focusing," he barked. "Aim for the middle of the pads."

  Left. Right. Whack-whack! I started to like the strong thudding sound my gloves were making.

  "C'mon, baby. Who or what pisses you off the most?"

  Left. Right. Getting faster.

  "Ed does." My voice came out hoarse.

  Left and right in more rapid succession.

  "What did this Ed do to make you mad?" he goaded.

  When I didn't answer, Christian probed further. "Did Ed steal your lunch money when you were a kid? Tease you in high school? Run you off the road?"

  "He says horrible things to me," I panted.

  Christian broke my rhythm by grabbing both my wrists.

  "Who the fuck is Ed?" he asked through clenched teeth.

  Pulling my arms from his grasp, I took a step back and rested my hands on my hips. "Ed isn't a real person. It's what I call my eating disorder."

  He nodded, and after readjusting the pads on his forearms, held them up. "You wanna beat the fuck out of Ed?"

  "More than anything."

  I saw the challenge in his eyes. “Let’s go. Don’t stop.”

  Left. Right.

  "Your arms are getting tired. Push through it, Mimi."

  Left and right. Hitting harder.

  "Why do you hate Ed so much?" he pushed.

  Left and right. Harder.

  "Because of the things he says to me and how it makes me feel," I sputtered.

  "Keep going. You're doing great.”

  Jab and a cross.

  "What does Ed say to you, baby?"

  "He says I'm weak." It came out in a squeak.

  "What else does he tell you?"

  "He says I'm ugly." It was barely a whisper. I was utterly breathless and already spent.

  Jab and a cross.

  "He tells me I'm a failure," I huffed.

  "Pretend I'm Ed, baby. Give me your best. Hit me anywhere."

  "If you were really Ed I'd hit you below the belt. Like he hits me." My voice was a low growl.

  "If you hit me where you want to hit Ed, you lessen your chance of us making love again before you leave tonight."

  He was right so I went for his jaw, but he dodged me easily.

  "You need to channel the anger, Mimi," he said with a lazy smile. "Or you’re wasting your energy."

  I bent over and placed both gloved hands on my knees, gasping for breath. I looked up at him sideways and said, "You're purposely…trying to rile me. Trying…to make me mad."

  "Yep. Doesn't it feel good?" he asked, as he bent and placed his hand on my back.

  "Doesn't what feel good?" I stood up straight and leaned backwards, trying to stretch.

  "Using all that energy to beat the shit out of Ed and let him know he's not gonna win this fight or any fight with you?" he said as he stood up straight.

  I smiled as I wheezed. "Yeah…it kinda does."

  Chapter 47

  South Carolina 2007

  I slowly unpacked my bags and looked around my dorm. It was the first time I wished I had an apartment off campus. An apartment with a huge bathtub so I could soak my aching muscles.

  A reminder of the workout I'd done with Christian just yesterday appeared when I woke up at my parents’ house this morning. It was almost midnight by the time Jason and Micah picked me up at the airport last night, and drove me home to get my car. I could've made the couple of hour drive to school then, but because I'd missed the chance to give the twins their birthday gifts, I decided to get a good night's sleep and leave for campus first thing in the morning.

  I was awakened at six thirty by two rowdy four-year-old children climbing on my body, causing more agony than they’d intended. They knew what it took to rouse me from sleep, and enjoyed interrupting my dreams a little too much.

  My brain craved coffee while my body screamed for a pain reliever. My father seemed unusually quiet as we sat down at the breakfast table. A short while later, Ruthie and Dillon opened the gifts I'd brought them. After fussing over their new toys, they each took one of my hands and led me downstairs to their bedrooms in the basement to show me the rest of their presents.

  I hadn't realized how much I’d missed them. I was caught off guard when another face popped into my head. It was heart-shaped and framed with black curls—Abby. How was it possible to love a child I barely knew? To miss her as much as I missed her father?

  My oohing and aahing over all of their birthday treasures made the twins happy, but my inevitable drive back to campus loomed. I reluctantly headed back upstairs and saw that my mother had already cleaned up after breakfast.

  "Where’s Dad?" I asked.

  "He’s checking your car—under the hood, tire pressure. You know your father. He wants to make sure everything looks good before you drive back to school."

  I nodded my understanding.

  After pouring us both a second cup of coffee, we took advantage of the kids staying busy downstairs, and sat in rockers that faced the huge glass sliders. I told her all about my visit to Florida as we looked out at the spectacular mountain view. I could still see concern in her eyes, but there was no judgment or worry.

  "I saw Dad's old club jacket," I said without any prompting. We hadn't been talking about motorcycle clubs or gangs. It bubbled up out of nowhere. She gave me a small smile, a faraway look in her eyes.

  "Jason saw it once a long time ago. I'm surprised he never said anything. I guess he forgot about it," she confessed.

  "What did you do with it? Does Dad still have it?"

  She shook her head. "Your father..." She paused to clarify before continuing, "Tommy told me he would take care of it. I don't have a clue what he did with it."

  I brought the mug to my lips. "You still have that peace choker."

  She placed her hand to her neck. Even though the choker wasn't there, the memory obviously was.

  "Was life back then so horrible?" I questioned.

  "Truthfully?" she asked.

  "Yeah, Mom, Truthfully," I shot back.

  "Yes. For some it was an awful way of life. Especially for the women who were trapped because of their addictions. It's not a life I would wish for anyone."

  Her eyes filled with warning. I knew her sentiments were directed at me. Just as Uncle Anthony's comments about Blue not protecting his gang members had been a harsh warning for Christian. What did they think we were? Ten years old?

  Her face softened when she said, "But for me, no. I had everything. Your father was respected, and because of that I wanted for nothing.” Her voice turned wistful as she looked back at the view. “I was loved and provided for.” She sighed. “My biggest problem back then was thinking it was my job to change him."

  She used both hands to bring her mug to her lips. After taking a sip, she said, "And you know he's still the same person he was back then. Yes, he's definitely made changes for the positive. But deep down inside, he's still the man who had me abducted when I was a teen."

  I knew what he'd done to Myrtle Blye's grandson-in-
law, Tom Deems. I also knew he hadn't totally behaved himself since then. I could only nod.

  "If that's the way it is with you and Christian, Mimi, you need to accept it now. You won't be able to change him. If you're looking for a chance to do that, you need to face the truth now instead of later."

  I knew what she was trying to tell me. All the years she'd wasted worrying about Dad, trying to look the other way, pretending things didn't happen while convincing herself that her positive influence would make him a better person, had all been for naught. Yes, he definitely was a better person now. There was no denying that. But he was still the same person.

  "That's where you and I are different, Mom." I reached over, placing my hand on her arm. "I'm not looking for a chance to change Christian."

  She gave me a questioning stare.

  "I just want a chance to love him."

  * * *

  Now, standing alone in my dorm room, I was faced with the reality of how dull and colorless my life had been. How had I lived for four years in the same room and never once thought to hang up a poster, throw a bright pillow on my bed or put a couple of potted plants on my shelves?

  I looked at the one framed picture on my nightstand. Lucas had been looking at me, while I smiled for the camera. To the casual observer, they would have no doubt they were seeing a man in love. I knew better. Outward appearances were so deceiving. Scoffing, I grabbed the picture, and tossed the entire thing—tainted frame and all—in the garbage can. It landed with a loud thunk that resounded off the empty walls.

  I picked up my bag and slung it on the bed. Even my bedspread screamed boring. I robotically sat down on the soft mattress and suppressed a groan. It seemed my body was almost in as much pain as my heart. I couldn't believe how badly I already missed Christian. He’d driven me to the airport less then twenty-four hours prior, but there was an emptiness in my chest that seemed to echo off my ribs.

  I realized then that other than a quick reply from him after I’d texted to let him know I’d landed, I hadn’t heard from him. I’d texted again as soon as I’d woken up, and again before I’d said goodbye to my family and left for school. He hadn’t replied.

  I reached for my phone at the exact moment it pinged with an incoming text from Christian. “Sry baby didnt charge phone and didnt no it died.”

  I smiled and started to send a reply when a second one came through.

  “Imissu”

  I started to text him back and thought, screw this…I want to hear his voice. My phone rang before I could complete the thought.

  His voice was like medicine to my aching heart. As I listened to him, I lounged on my boring bed with its bland colors and felt sunshine returning to my world.

  I told him that I'd stayed the night at my parents’ instead of driving to campus, and how the twins woke me up by pouncing on me. I shared that I'd never realized before how depressing I found my dorm room, and that it already felt like an eternity until my graduation. He told me that today was his first day back at work, and he'd already gone head-to-head with Axel over his work assignment. Christian preferred to work on the bikes in the back, but Axel needed him to work on the cars. I could hear the trepidation in his voice when he told me he was going to his parents’ tonight for dinner, and was going to make another attempt at getting close to Abby.

  I reminded him to take small steps with her, and he reminded me to pull off the Band-Aid when it came to Lucas. I didn't need the reminder. Lucas had returned to campus two days ago and had started calling me to find out when I’d be arriving. I'd ignored his calls and sent a text that said I would talk to him sometime today.

  A knock at the door interrupted our conversation. Before I could say goodbye to Christian, I heard a soft feminine voice ask, "Mimi, are you back? Are you in there? I saw your car."

  It was Tiffany. A so-called friend from two rooms down. We shared two classes, and apparently, my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend. She was one of the girls highlighted in the report from Christian's detective. It said that Tiffany was known to have regular trysts with Lucas. I should probably thank her.

  I told Christian I had to go.

  He told me he loved me. I said, "I love you too," at the same time I opened the door. Tiffany's fake smile became an immediate frown. Did she think I was talking to Lucas and was jealous?

  "Was that Lucas?" she asked after composing herself and pasting on another smile. I didn't answer fast enough because she quickly added, "We were wondering when you would be back. Classes started two days ago."

  I didn't invite her in, but leaned against the doorjamb, my arms crossed. "Yeah, school officially started two days ago, but I don't have a class until today."

  "Oh, right," was all she said. Her eyes widened and she asked, "Is something wrong? Are you okay?"

  I gave her a steady look. "Things couldn't be better, Tiffany."

  Without warning, Lucas peeked his head around the doorframe. Neither of us had seen him coming.

  I saw her pout when Lucas shoved her aside and rushed at me through my dorm door. He pulled me into a hug, and started rambling about how much he’d missed me.

  I pulled away, giving him a tight smile. Without looking at Tiffany, I said, "I need a few minutes alone with Lucas."

  He realized something was wrong.

  I watched as Tiffany flounced back to her room. Lucas stepped further into my room and started to shut the door when I held out my hand to stop it from closing.

  "This won't take long," I assured him. I intended to take the high road, and not bring up his indiscretions. For starters, I would've broken it off anyway, but I didn't see any reason to let it get nasty by throwing the other girls in his face. Still, I had no intention of apologizing for breaking up with him.

  "What's going on, Mimi?" His eyes were warm, concerned.

  Bleh.

  "There's no easy way to do this, so I'm going to go with honesty." I was being sincere, and he saw it on my face.

  He squinted his eyes, and tried to reach for my hand. "Honest about what?"

  I brushed his hand away and stuck mine in my pockets. "I ran into a childhood friend during break. We rekindled our relationship. It's serious." I wasn't going to share any details about what happened. Breaking up with Lucas was going to be enough fodder for the gossip whores. I didn't want to throw Christian in the mix. "I'm with him now, Lucas." I gave him a level look. "I'm not trying to hurt your feelings, but I think we both know this"—I waved a hand between us—"could never have worked."

  I watched his expression go from one of shock, to surprise, to anger in less than five seconds.

  "You're dumping me?" His anger was striking and evident.

  "I'm breaking off what wasn't meant to be." I'd let my guard down, thinking this would be a civil conversation. But he slammed the door shut before I could stop him. He stalked toward me, and was only inches from my face when he asked, "Is this a joke, Mimi?"

  I refused to step back. I crossed my arms, and looked him square in the eyes. "I'm sure Tiffany will help you get over it." So much for taking the high road. "And Tessa. And Blakely. Should I go on?" I'd been shocked at how much the P.I. had uncovered in such a short time, but Christian explained how the compensation had been commensurate with the quick turnaround he had required of the man.

  Lucas turned his back on me and walked toward the bed. I could tell by the rise of his shoulders he was taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

  "You know…I was going to propose to you on graduation night." He spun back around, and stood with his hands clenched tightly at his sides. "I figured it would be the one and only time I'd get to meet your family. I was going to ask your father's permission first, and then get down on my knee when I accepted my diploma on the stage."

  I was more shocked he had the audacity to ignore my accusation of infidelity than that he’d intended to propose. I didn't bother to comment that a proposal was ludicrous since we weren't in love, or that he wouldn't have met my father that night anyway.


  "You're not going to deny you've been screwing around behind my back?" I threw at him.

  "Of course I screwed around. I wasn't getting it from you!" he spat. His eyes were pleading as he started to walk toward me, saying, "I would never cheat on you after we were married, Mimi. Never."

  I immediately recalled a conversation I'd had with Christian. It was what I referred to as deal breakers in a relationship. I had three, and one of them was infidelity. I wondered if Lucas would violate the other two. I didn't have to wait long.

  I shook my head. "You cheated, Lucas. And that's cause enough to break up with you. But the truth is, I don't care because I'm with someone else now. I have no hard feelings. I want only good things for you."

  "You fucking bitch!" Spit flew from his mouth as he ranted. "Who is the asshole? I'm going to kill him."

  I had to stifle a laugh. The thought of Lucas messing up Christian was absurd, but I didn't want my amusement to show. The last thing I wanted to do was give Lucas, or anyone at school, details about Christian.

  When I didn't answer right away, he got closer. "You're lying," he sneered. "There is no other guy."

  I shrugged my shoulders. "Believe what you want." I skirted around him and opened the door. Gesturing with my hand toward the hallway, I said, "It doesn't have to be like this, Lucas. We can still be civil."

  "You've been a prick tease for months, Mimi. This is going to be anything but civil." The contempt in his gaze stopped me short, but I regained my composure. "You've made me look like a fool."

  "And screwing around behind my back with my so-called friends hasn't made me look like a fool?" Not that I cared.

  He ignored my question, narrowed his eyes, and shot me an angry look. "No one would blame me. You give the worst blow jobs ever!"

  This did make me laugh. "Yeah," I agreed with him. "I've been told." Christian hadn't worried about my pride when he eagerly gave me pointers on how to improve my technique. "But I've gotten a lot better," I snidely said. I got all mushy inside thinking about the next time I would be able to use my skills on Christian. My last comment didn't go unnoticed by Lucas.