Chapter 9
Looking for the card with the help of sunlight and better visibility proved in vain. We came up empty again. Mama said she felt terrible, which only made me feel bad for falling asleep last night, still unsure that she hadn’t gotten rid of it on purpose. I could only conclude that, with it being a little windy last night, Mama must’ve accidently dropped it and it got blown away.
After she’d left for work the next day, I even went for a short walk up and down the street in case by any chance it’d just blown away but was still out there somewhere. The huge gutter openings at the end of the street made my heart ache. It might’ve been blown in there in which case I’d never find it now.
I attempted to search using the business name again. Then I called Clarisse to tell her what Mama had said about Nicholas and his brothers and broke down when I finally got to the part about losing the card.
It made me feel better that she, too, was suspicious about Mama possibly having gotten rid of it on purpose. “She seemed genuinely sorry,” I said, sniffling even as I stared at the screen of my laptop. “We searched high and low both last night, and even this morning before she left for work, I saw her searching through drawers and whatnot. She didn’t even know I was awake, so I don’t think it was her putting on an act.”
I told her my theory about her having possibly dropped it outside and it getting blown away. “I’ve already walked up and down my block but found nothing.”
“Okay,” she said, sounding determined. “We can’t give up. Did you try searching for the business again?”
“Yes,” I groaned. “Just like when we searched before, I came up empty. Mama doesn’t remember his last name either. Only she remembers it was Spanish.”
My determined little friend wasn’t about to give up as easily as I’d begun to. For the next several weeks, we tried all kinds of longshot searches: his name and Huntsville, his name and Radcliffe where he lived now. She even suggested we search the words notorious Huntsville brothers and type in the years when they lived there, which I assumed were the same as when we’d lived there. His name and Madeline’s and the name of our town again. Aside from endless articles regarding the accident when I typed in Madeline’s name and Huntsville, nothing else hit.
Despite Clarisse’s insistence that I needed to keep searching, I had to stop at least for a few days. I was driving myself crazy. Most of my empty searches had me snapping at Mama for no reason, which I always felt bad about after.
Fortunately, most of the times she’d accept my apologies after with a sad smile. She knew I was still extremely frustrated about not being able to track Nicholas down and she thought it was because of my PTBIS symptoms. I was beginning to think it may be, too, because the sadness I felt in my heart was just too profound for it to be all over Madeline’s boyfriend. It just didn’t seem right.
One morning, after deciding I’d stop searching for a few days, I got home from my twelve-hour shift. Mama was just leaving for work. I walked into the kitchen where she was filling up her commuter mug. I took a deep breath because I already knew I was tired and in a particularly foul mood.
“Morning, honey. How was work?”
“Same as always,” I said, opening the fridge.
“You’re off tonight, yes?”
“Um huh.”
“Good, ’cause I was hoping we could talk.”
That caught my attention and I turned to her. “About what?”
Her expression was a cautious one. “Ryan called me yesterday.”
Immediately, I was rolling my eyes. He’d been texting me in the past week or so to ask if I’d have lunch with him sometime soon. He wanted to tell me about his anger-management classes and about the counseling he’d been going to for domestic violence.
“He’s really trying, Maggie, and I think—”
“You think what, Mama? That after less than two months he’s a changed person?”
“No, but I do think you should at least hear him out.”
“Are you on crack? He put his fucking hands—”
I stopped, bringing my hand to my mouth. I’d never spoken to my mother that way, and while I hadn’t cussed at her, it still felt disrespectful. “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling beyond exasperated about everything I’d been through lately, but I knew it was mostly because of my inability to stop thinking of Nicholas. “Mama, I’m just tired and moody. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I told Ryan we could be friends and maybe eventually I’ll be able to have lunch with him and stuff like he wants to, but not yet. It’s still too soon.”
Mama nodded with that same sympathetic smile I got so often from her these days. “Fair enough, and I didn’t mean to intrude. It’s just that he called and sounded so hopeful about possibly getting together with you soon. I agreed to talk to you. But it’s your business, and I’m proud of you for standing your ground. Most girls wouldn’t.” She chuckled dryly. “Heck, he’d almost convinced me.”
I shuffled toward her and gave her a peace-offering hug. “Don’t be sorry. I’m just really tired. I’m actually not that angry with him anymore. I just need to get my butt in bed.”
She hugged me tightly, kissing my head, and agreed I should get to bed ASAP. After making myself breakfast and then taking a long hot shower, I finally slipped into bed. I was tired and emotionally exhausted, so I knew, despite everything going on in my head, I’d still fall asleep quickly. It took longer than I imagined, but I slowly began to drift off.
I see him from afar. He’s crouched down on bent legs, his head bowed as if he’s praying or maybe crying. My heart goes out to him. I’d lost someone very close to me, but I can’t relate to the pain of losing her since I still can’t remember her.
My heart aches now from knowing I had a sister I’d lost, but it isn’t the same, I’m sure. The thought of losing Mama and the unimaginable pain I’d have to endure is not a thought I ever want to entertain. So, I feel for the poor guy at the graveside near Madeline’s.
Ryan is with me and Clarisse, and as we near, the writing on the familiar tombstone becomes clear. This guy is not at a grave near Madeline’s. He’s at Madeline’s grave. My heart spikes when I see the tattoos on his arms. I hesitate, stopping on the spot. Clarisse and Ryan turn to me “What’s wrong?” Clarisse asks.
“That man. He’s at Madeline’s gravesite. I don’t know who he is.”
As I turn my back on the guy and face Clarisse and Ryan, Clarisse states the obvious. That the guy is probably someone I don’t remember.
“I know. But it’s awkward.”
About to suggest we come back when the guy’s gone, I glance back one last time and I freeze when he sees me. He’s wearing dark sunglasses, but I’m still captivated by his stare. Then he pulls them off and straightens, making every hair on my body stand at attention.
“Who are you?” I ask, surprised when my voice breaks.
“I’m Nicholas. Don’t you remember me?”
Instantly, I rush to him then jump in his big arms. I kiss his lips over and over, even through my tears, until I feel the resistance. He pushes me away. “Maggie?”
I nod, confused as to why he’d push me away when being in his arms and kissing his lips felt so perfect. “What are you doing?” he asks, staring in my eyes, but I see more than just confusion. He’s feeling it too.
“Yeah, what the fuck are you doing?” Ryan asks from just behind me then yanks my arm.
“No!” I cry out, reaching for Nicholas even as Ryan pulls me away. “No!” I scream as Ryan lifts me by the waist and takes me away.
I kick and scream, feeling a heartache like none I’ve ever felt when Nicholas does nothing but stand there and watch me being dragged away. “No! Don’t do this! Put me down!”
I screamed, only this time I was in bed in my bedroom and Mama was standing over me her hands at my shoulders. “It’s okay,” she said calmly, even though the horror in her eyes said she was anything but calm. “It’s just a nightmare, Maggie.” She searched my eyes, her
s full of concern. “What were you dreaming of?”
I shook my head, remembering every bit of it. “I don’t remember,” I whispered, glancing away. “I was just scared.”
“You slept a lot today,” she informed me. “I was surprised to see you were still in bed when I got home.”
“What time is it?” I asked, sitting up, feeling my heartbeat still pounding from the dream.
“It’s past six.”
“In the evening?” I asked, completely surprised.
I’d slept nearly ten hours? Mama nodded to confirm. “You’ve had a lot on your mind lately, baby. I’m sure it’s mentally exhausting.” She kissed my head. “It’s probably good that you slept so long. Just too bad that you had to wake like this. Thank God I thought to check on you. I’d just started walking away when you started whimpering then all out thrashing. Scared the bejesus out of me.”
Remembering the feeling of utter desperation, I closed my eyes. “Yeah, I don’t remember any of it.” I touched my chest with my hand, unwilling to share about my dream even with Mama. “But my heart is still pounding because of it. So, whatever it was, it had to have been bad.”
She frowned, moving a strand of hair away from my face. “Well, it’s over now. I made dinner. You hungry?”
“Starving,” I said after thinking about it for a second.
I’d hardly touched the breakfast I’d made myself that morning. Mama went off to serve our dinner while I escaped into the bathroom. I rinsed my face then stared into the mirror. “What the hell was that about?” I shook my head as the puffy-eyed blonde in the mirror stared back at me blankly. “No idea.”
Chapter 10
The headline the following day in our local paper was that a burglar had been ambushed by the owners of the house he’d broken into just around the block from our house. His description seemed to match that of the one Mrs. Walker had given the police, so we were hopeful we’d heard the last of our neighborhood prowler since he’d been arrested. At least it seemed that way as the days went by and there’d been no more sightings. So, I had closure over one thing in my exasperating life.
Weeks later, after continuing to obsess about Nicholas, Clarisse had an epiphany. She suggested maybe he spelled his name differently. Not only that but we were positive that my seeing the old Harley at the flea market, me being drawn to Sam at the club, and then Nicholas showing up on a Harley himself were not coincidences. I expanded my online searches to trying all the possible variants of the spelling of his name. I added both cities, Huntsville and Radcliffe, and the words motorcycle, Harley, tattoos, and biker to my searches. I’d searched everything including news, videos, and photos.
My heart nearly stopped and I could barely catch my breath when I got the hit. It was a photo of Nicholas on his bike with that same girl I’d seen him with at the cemetery. It was taken at a biker event in Radcliffe last summer. The caption read: Harley enthusiast Nicolas, without the h, and his girl enjoying the festival. Ignoring the unreasonable jealousy I felt just from seeing him again with that girl, I focused on my breathing and that swelling of my heart. I was now better able to control the triggers and easily calmed myself. But something else was beginning to gnaw at me now.
I didn’t want to give my feelings of jealousy too much thought. It scared me. Madeline and I were so close, but Mama did say Nicolas was a charmer. There was no hiding the fact the he was sexy as hell. Those amazing eyes had done something to me I still hadn’t gotten over. It could stand to reason that I may’ve been attracted to him even back then. Mama did say we’d had crushes on all the brothers. But remembering the way he’d gazed at me at the cemetery, the way I felt that gaze touch my soul, I wondered now if I might’ve possibly ever done something to betray Madeline.
Something continued to gnaw at me. Just like when I thought Mama had possibly gotten rid of the card on purpose, I had to wonder. Was it possible that maybe Mama knew about me betraying Madeline and decided it was best that I not remember doing something so wrong? Maybe that’s what her real apprehension about me staying in touch with him was about.
I’d shaken the thoughts and gone back to my searching. It was just the photo gallery of the annual event’s webpage. It wasn’t much, but it snowballed. I’d studied the photo, enlarging it to twice its size, and could make out the wording on his shirt. Till Death Tattoos.
I’d searched that and brought up the tattoo shop’s website. It was in Radcliffe, so that excited me. The website itself wasn’t very extensive—just four tabs on the top: Home, Artists, Contact, and About. I went straight to the artists’ tab, figuring he must be one.
My heart swelled again, and I smiled; though I had no idea why. Nicolas wasn’t listed, but a guy who looked so much like him was. I could even see he had light-colored eyes, only I already knew, just by the twinkle in his gorgeous eyes, that the black and white photo didn’t do his eyes justice. I knew. It wasn’t just a gut feeling. I’d stared into these eyes many times. It wasn’t exactly a memory, but I knew I had, and it excited me to no end. Even if the photo had been in color like the one of Nicolas at the festival, it didn’t do justice to his eyes. While they were still intoxicatingly sexy, it was nothing like when I’d seen him in person.
My heart thundered. What did this mean? Who were these guys and why did my heart react this way to them?
I’d begun to fear the website would be a dead end because there weren’t even names for the artists. They all had nicknames. This guy’s nickname was “Mouth.” I stared at him, wondering if he was related to Nicolas and if by chance he might be who I was supposed to remember. My heart definitely felt something when I stared at him. Then I got to the about page and my heart went wild again. I skipped right over the explanation of who they all were, my eyes focusing instead on the group photo where Nicolas stood with all the guys smiling beautifully. For as hard as he appeared in the other photo of him at the festival and as solemn as his first impression at the cemetery was, the guy had the most breathtaking smile of any I could think of.
After gazing at it for what seemed like forever, I finally read about how Mouth and his friend Slider opened the place with the help of their friends and brothers. Two other guys in the photo of eight had the same eyes and smile as Nicolas. I immediately decided these were the guys my mom referred to as the heartthrob terrors. Though there were no more poofs or flashes and while the other two guys who had to be his brothers had the same amazing eyes, my heart hadn’t done what it had with Nicolas and Mouth. I’d been so busy gazing at Nicolas’s face to notice the writing on his shirt.
I frowned when I enlarged it and saw the word Mofo’s over a drawing of a Harley much like the one he’d driven to the cemetery in. It was likely just a shirt he’d bought for riding. But I opened another tab on my browser and typed into the search field anyway along with the word Radcliffe.
I sat straight up when I saw the motorcycle shop Mofo’s website pop up. This one was far more extensive since it was also a parts shop and you could search for parts and order them online. I went straight to the about tab, and there they were in all their glory. My heart went so wild once again I could hardly stand it. The Cortez brothers, founders and owners. The picture had all three tatted-out brothers minus Mouth. Joaquin, Xavier, and Nicolas Cortez. All were equally panty-dropping sexy, with fully tatted arms, and they shared those same amazing eyes and smiles.
Mama had been right about one thing. They looked b-b-b-bad to the bone. At least it’s what their appearances screamed, yet these two other brothers hadn’t made my heart swell or nearly choke me up. This really confused me now because like in my dream where Nicolas pushed me away, clearly his love was for Madeline not me. And what about Mouth? What the hell was the deal with me feeling such strangeness for both brothers?
Frowning, I’d gone back to flipping through the pages of the shop’s website. Not only did I have a full name now, I had a direct number to his shop. I wondered now what m&n’s was about. But I guess it didn’t matter. After stalking e
verything about their business, I saw they did custom embroidering and print screening. There were lots of photos of jackets and leather vests like the one Sam from the bar wore with very intricate embroidering on them.
My heart sped up at the thought of calling him. What would I say? It’d been over a month since our encounter at the cemetery. I supposed I could start by telling him I’d lost his card. But then I’d have to admit I’d been obsessively searching for him online. Did it matter? I could admit I was desperate to find out more about my past and hoped he could help shed light on it. He’d have to understand that, right?
If I did this, it’d have to be soon, before Mama came home. Since Clarisse and I suspected that maybe Mama really didn’t want me contacting them, I didn’t want to tell her I had until I knew more. Finally, I got the nerve to call. I held my breath until a guy’s deep and resonant voice answered, “Mofo’s.”
The words at my throat nearly suffocated me from just hearing the voice, and I wasn’t even sure it was him. “May . . .” I paused to clear my throat. “May I please speak to Nicolas?”
There was silence on the other end, and I wondered if maybe the call had dropped. Then I heard him clear his throat. “Who’s this?”
“This is Maggie,” I said, gulping back the emotion that was already crushing me.
“Maggie,” he said but then went silent.
“Hello?”
“Maggie, Nicolas isn’t here.”
My heart calmed, and I assumed this was one of his brothers. As much as they looked alike, they must sound alike too because the voice was exactly as I remembered it at the cemetery. “Do you know when he’ll be in?”
“Not for a few days.”
“May I leave a message? I really need to talk to him.”
More silence. Then finally he spoke again. “Sure. I can take a message. What is it?”
Girl In The Mirror (Looking Glass Book 1) Page 9
