Long Live the Rebel

by E L Irwin

  He rolled the sock liner down off what was left of his limb and laid it aside as well. Then he began a slow inspection of the skin, looking for any signs of infection or irritation. Next, he reached for the tub of moisturizing ointment he kept near the bed and rubbed some into his leg around the end, massaging it.

  Once done, Ryler stood, balancing on his left leg as he unbuckled his belt and pants and slid them to the floor. He stood now in his shirt and boxer shorts and took a deep breath. Shiv was instantly on his feet, lending his size and strength to Ryler, aiding, as he moved toward the crutch just a couple feet away.

  Ryler hobbled his way into his bathroom; the hound slumped onto the floor beside him. He stood in front of his mirror, surveying his reflection, taking in what was left of his body after the bomb, and after the surgeons had finished with him. His eyes noted the tattoos, spending several moments on the six marks across his heart — representations of the six men he’d lost that day. The muscles in his jaw tightened as he blinked the moisture from his eyes. Moving on to the scars, he touched on those briefly, just skimming them in quick succession.

  Then Ryler’s eyes moved lower. He clenched his jaw, angry once more.

  Lorna had loved him once.

  When he’d been whole.

  Before.

  But after — after — she’d been unable to love him, love what he was, love what was left of him. And his head echoed with the words she’d screamed in hatred and fear. “You’re not even a man anymore! How can I be with you? Why did you let this happen? You’re nothing!”

  Ryler closed his eyes as those words repeated endlessly in his skull. And somehow, Lorna’s voice changed to AJ’s. And it was AJ in his head screaming those things at him, looking at him in fear and disgust. Dizziness struck with a swift blow, and Ryler was on the floor. Shiv lunged up, worried and whining. Ryler barely made it to the toilet before the nausea and vomiting hit.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Fight or Flight

  There were six vehicles in the parking lot of Wicked Charlie’s when I arrived the following day. Ryler’s wasn’t among them. Thankfully. I wasn’t ready to see him yet. Chief was behind the bar when I came in. We waved to each other as I made my way to what had become known as my booth. After a couple of minutes, Chief came over and sat down opposite me, like he was prone to do.

  After studying me silently for a moment or two, he said, “This isn’t a working visit, is it?” At my expression and my raised eyebrows, he continued, “No bag. Or laptop.”

  “No, I guess it isn’t, Chief.”

  He scratched his shadowed chin while I put my thoughts together. “You’re on reconnaissance,” he stated after a moment of perusing my face.

  I agreed with a slight lift of my shoulders.

  “Well,” he continued. “You go ahead with your mission. Just understand that I may not be at liberty to provide you the answers.”

  “Fair enough,” I exhaled. “It’s Ryler, Chief.” Stopping, I took a moment to gather myself before continuing. “There are… there are times I’ve thought he hated me. Then there are other times that I’m actually certain he definitely does not hate me, you know? And just when I think I’m getting somewhere with him, like things are warming up between us, he pulls away, and a door slams shut in my face. I don’t know what to make of it, Chief.”

  Vic studied me carefully, taking his time as he went over what I’d shared with him. Then he asked, “And just what is your question to me, kid?”

  “What is it? What is it that makes him shut down and pull away?”

  “Has Rye told you anything?”

  “A little. Like, I know about his time in Idaho. About his home life, and then the group homes. And that ranch. I know he was wounded in service. I know that he was married, and that things didn’t work out between them. But that’s it.”

  “He tell you all that?”

  “He did. Ja— uh, someone, someone else, uh, told me about his being wounded.”

  “Your daddy, you mean?” At my look of consternation, he said, “Jake was one of my best friends. You think I wasn’t going to recognize his eyes when you walked in? Or that he might not have mentioned you to me?”

  Sighing, I said, “Yeah, sorry, Chief. I didn’t know you two’d been friends. Jake left letters for me, explaining a lot things. He mentioned Ryler in the letters.”

  “Jake was a private guy. And he didn’t want you to feel awkward with those he knew here. He wanted you to learn this place all on your own. Rye is a private guy also. So, I won’t give you details, but I can tell you that he was indeed injured, and that his young wife of two years was unable to handle his injuries or his recovery, and she left him.”

  “His wife left him… because of his injury? What the heck kind of person does that? What happened to ‘For better or worse, through sickness and health’?”

  “A weak, self-centered kind. It took Rye a long time to recover from his injuries. – and no, I won’t tell you what they were — and then, Lorna left him, and that took him a long time to get past as well.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “Let me guess. He started to make the moves on you, then suddenly turned that off?” At my nod, he continued, “Well, he’s in the fight-or-flight mode. And right now, flight is winning.”

  “So, what should I do?”

  “Let him work through it. Give him room to figure himself out. You see, you’ve scared him is all. He’s just not sure what to do with you, AJ.”

  “All right, so, I just give him space? Let him be?”

  “Yeah. Let him pull himself out of flight mode and reenter the fight. He’ll come around, kid.”

  I bobbed my head slowly then said, “Chief?”

  “Yeah?”

  “How long after he returned — with his injury — how long until Lorna left?”

  “He was still on bedrest.”

  “That soon? Like she didn’t really stick around at all?”

  “That soon. Being married to a military man was a romantic notion for Lorna. And all was hunky-dory until she had to prove her staying power, until she had to step in and help nurse him back. That wasn’t the romantic image she’d fallen in love with.”

  In silence, I stewed about what Chief had told me, wondering about the woman Ryler’d been married to. What could have possessed her to turn her back on her husband?

  “Let me ask you something, AJ.”

  Motioning for him to continue, I waited.

  “What’s your stock in all this? In Ryler? Are you planning to stay or to go? Because, unless you’re planning to stay, AJ, unless you’re planning to stick around for the long haul, then I’d like to ask that you not pursue this any longer. Don’t put him through any more than he’s already been through. Ryler is strong, but this could break him, could bring him to his knees and just leave him there. So, before you go any further, please stop and consider everything.”

  Nodding, I carefully considered all that Vic had told me. “I will, Chief. I promise. And, thanks for talking. I’ve got to go. I have some things to do in town. Thanks again.”

  “No problem, kid. See you around.”

  Leaving Charlie’s, I headed to the gas station, as my tank was low. Then from there, I decided to head to Turning Paiges. Poppy was behind the counter when I entered the store. She waved to me, her beautiful face lighting up even more. “AJ! I’m so glad you came in. That you’re still here.”

  I smiled at that. “Hello, Poppy, what’s new?”

  “We just got some new plaques in, and last week we got our shipment of graphic novels. And the week before that, we got some really pretty classics in.”

  “Oh, nice. Thanks. I’ll take a look around.”

  “Oh, yeah, of course. Let me know if you have questions.”

  I smiled at her as I began to look around. There was something infinitely special, almost magical, about perusing a bookstore: looking at all the titles, the cover art, the various editions, smelling the books, feeling their textures, the pages. I coul
d spend hours inside a bookstore. Hours. In fact, I had. Two hours later, I walked back to my car with packages under my arms. I’d found a blanket to send to Mrs. Carson and a matched set of the Bronte sisters novels that were leather-bound for myself.

  After leaving Paiges, I headed to the post office to mail my package and went to the grocery store to pick up a few things I was out of. My cellphone rang as I was carrying the bags into the house. My hands were full, so I let it go to voicemail. Once inside, and I was able to set the bags down, I checked to see who had called and saw that it was Harley. I dialed her back as I put away my groceries.

  “AJ?” Harley said. Her voice sounded thick, like maybe she had a cold, the poor thing.

  “Yeah, what’s up, babe?” I had the eggs in one hand and the milk in the other, with the phone wedged against my shoulder.

  “AJ,” she sniffed. “You need to come home, hon.”

  “What’s going on? You sound terrible.” Harley sniffed again, almost sounding like she was choking back tears. “Are you all right?”

  “AJ, it’s… it’s Mrs. Carson. She… she’s dead.”

  The eggs and my phone dropped. And my heart went with them. Slowly, I set the milk down on the counter, and bent, reaching for my phone. “What did you say, Harley?” I whispered past the knot in my throat.

  “She’s gone, AJ,” Harley choked out. “You need to come home.”

  “What… what happened? When?”

  “She was found this morning. She’d been… she was… battered. Beaten. Kat found her.”

  My body shook; tremors racked me, and I couldn’t find my breath. Sliding to the floor, I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to piece together what I’d just heard. “What… what are the police saying, Harley? Was it my fan? The one who broke into the house?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t heard.”

  “I don’t… I don’t— This is my fault, Harley! She’s dead because of me!”

  “AJ, sweetie, you don’t know that. We don’t know that. And even if it was the fan, that wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t, okay?”

  “I’ll catch the first flight I can find. Thanks, Harley.”

  Hanging up, I sat for a moment, trying to understand. Trying to think. I needed to get to California. I needed to get a plane ticket. I needed someone to look after Josephine. Contemplating for a moment, I dialed Wicked Charlie’s. When Chief picked up, I explained to him my problem, that I needed to leave town for a bit, and could he please look after my cat. Chief agreed almost instantly, offering his condolences, and didn’t bother to ask why I hadn’t called Ryler. I told him where the spare key was kept, and thanked him profusely. I quickly cleaned up the mess on the floor. Then I ran upstairs to begin packing and to call the airline. I found a redeye from Seattle to San Diego, and within the hour, was on the road.

  Ryler avoided town, avoided people, and left his phone off for three days, fully aware he was hiding out. Like a coward. Facing AJ after what had happened between them wasn’t something he was keen on doing. Ryler was torn. At a crossroad. He wanted her. And he wanted her to want him. But whether or not she was able to see past all that he was, and all that had happened, to see who he truly is, was the question. And Ryler didn’t know if he was brave enough to find out. He didn’t know if he was up to traveling that road any longer.

  But on the fourth day, Ryler turned his phone back on and found two messages. One from Jo, her new sign was in and she needed it hung up. And one from Chief. Ryler called Jo and made arrangements to install the sign that morning. Then he figured he’d swing in and see Chief — most likely the ice machine was out again – and have lunch while he was there.

  Jo’s new sign was designed like an old-fashioned lamppost, with a cross section near the top that dangled a hand-painted sign that read Jo’s Café in fancy script across the image of a steaming apple pie.

  The sign hadn’t taken long to install, just a couple of hours. Long enough for the concrete to set and for Jo to approve the way it looked. She brought him out a cup of coffee and a piece of strudel when he was done. After Ryler finished, he told Jo he’d send a bill to her. Jo hugged him and sent him off.

  Charlie’s was in the midst of its midday run of customers, those on lunch breaks and those just starting or finishing their day. Chief was behind the bar, building a drink for a customer. He greeted Ryler and then began to build another; this one he slid to his friend.

  “Thanks.” Ryler nodded.

  “You’re gonna need it.”

  That stopped Ryler, the glass midway to his mouth. At the look Chief was giving him, Ryler lowered the glass, setting it back down on the bar. Facing Chief, bracing for impact, he said, “All right, let’s have it.”

  Chief turned back to his other patrons, “Behave yourselves. I’m just right over here.” Then he walked away, heading to one of the booths off to the side.

  Ryler stared after him for a moment or two, contemplating Chief and the words he’d spoken, the look he’d given. And for half a heartbeat, Ryler almost felt like he was a rebel teen once again, about to get a severe lecture. Exhaling sharply, he followed the other man.

  Chief was silent for a moment after Ryler’d sat down. Then he said, “Jake’s kid… she ain’t Lorna, Rye.”

  Ryler controlled his surprise at this, only blinked his eyes a couple of times. His mind raced to piece together what might have caused Chief to say something like that. Had AJ talked with Chief? If so, when? And why? Slowly, he said, “Yeah, Chief. I know that.”

  “Just thought you needed to hear it.”

  “And why is that?” Anger was beginning to burn in his chest.

  “Because you’re running scared.”

  “Stay out of it, Chief.” Ryler caught himself from saying anything further, though the anger sparked at Vic’s words.

  “Rye, you know I respect you. You know I’ve got your six, and I always will. But you need to face this and see that AJ isn’t Lorna. Don’t judge her by the mistakes that Lorna made.”

  “I’m not,” he growled.

  “So how did AJ react when you told her about your leg?”

  Ryler just glared at him; his jaw clenched. “Yeah…” Chief said. “…that’s what I figured.”

  “You think she’ll want this?” Ryler snarled at him, jerking his hand downward toward said leg. “You think she’ll look at me and see a man?”

  “I’d stake my life that AJ wouldn’t see you as anything less.”

  “I don’t want her pity either.”

  “You won’t even give her a chance? You’ve just written her off as a lost cause? How do you know that Jake hadn’t planned this out?”

  “What did you say? The heck are you saying?”

  “He talked about it. Hoped you and AJ could meet, that you two might work out.”

  Ryler laughed under his breath. His voice cracked in painful disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Jake told you that?”

  “Not in so many words, Rye. But I could hear the hope in his voice. He loved you, and he loved her. Is it so hard to imagine that he’d want the two of you to meet and hopefully fall for each other? That he’d hope you two could be happy together?”

  “And why would he think that? What would possess him to think that a girl like AJ would want a guy like me?”

  “Ryler, why do people call you when they need something done? You think they call out of pity? You think it’s no more than an offering to poor, broken Rye?”

  Ryler kept his gaze down; his jaw was clenched tight as he worked through these thoughts and feelings. Chief stabbed a finger at him, “If that’s what you think, Rye, then get the heck out of my bar. I offered you friendship and respect. Don’t throw that back at me.”

  “I’m not, Chief.” Ryler said, defeated. “You know I’m not. I just… I can’t go through it again. It gutted me the first time. AJ will be worse. Far worse. I won’t survive it.”

  “You can’t run from it either, Rye. Once you start to run, you’ll never stop.”


  “I’m not running, Chief.”

  “Good. You had me worried for a minute there. I thought that little girl had you scared to death.”

  “She does scare me to death. Everything about her is potent and terrifying.”

  Chief chuckled at that. “Yeah, I can see that as well.”

  “Thanks, Chief. For talking… and for everything. I gotta run. I gotta figure out a way to talk with her, with AJ. Try to explain.”

  “Well, you’ve got some time. She’s gone.”

  Ryler’s heart slammed against his ribcage. “What do you mean, ‘she’s gone’?”

  “Her landlady died unexpectedly. She left a couple days ago. Asked me to look after her cat.”

  Ryler felt his heart plummet again as he recalled AJ telling him about some crazy fan that had broken into her house. A strong sense of panic began to settle in his chest. “Her landlady? What? Did she say what happened?”

  “No, Rye, she didn’t. What’s the matter?”

  “She said she had a fan, one that had broken into her house, trashed the place. She’d been worried about something like this. Have you heard from her?”

  “Nah, not since she left.”

  “I gotta go, Chief. I gotta call her. See if she’s all right.”

  “All right. Keep me updated.”

  Ryler jerked his chin in acknowledgment even as he was pulling his phone out. He’d dialed AJ’s number before he reached the Bronco. It rang several times before going to voicemail. Ryler slammed his fists against the steering wheel and tried the number again, with the same results. On the third attempt, it went directly to voicemail. “Dangit! Come on, AJ, answer your dang phone!” Ryler took a breath and held it as he pinched the bridge of his nose. This time he left a message. “AJ, I just need to know that you’re all right. Can you please call me or text me? Heck, call Chief and check in with him. I need to hear from you.”