Small Town F*ck Club

by Frankie Love

“How are you always so fucking strong, Sadie?” He shakes his head. “Right now, I’m the weakest I’ve ever been in my life. I hate that you’re seeing me this way. I want you to see me as a strong man; a man who has his shit together. Instead of a fucking drunk in the middle of the night. I want to be more for you. But right now, it’s fucking hard to know what more is.” He wipes my tears away with his thumb and I breathe him in.

  He is wrong about what strength is and what weakness is.

  A real man can admit his faults, and his fears. A real man knows the power of words and the power of keeping someone by your side as you walk through your pain.

  But I need to know if I am the person he wants to let in.

  “It’s okay, Sawyer. Nobody knows what they want all the time. Life is about figuring it out one day at a time. All I need to know from you is, do you want to figure it out with me? Do you want me by your side when you go down this road? If you don’t want me, just tell me now. Let me walk away with dignity. Because when you talk like this, it makes me wonder if what you feel isn’t the same as what I feel.”

  Sawyer drops to his knees, his arms wrapping around my waist. He looks at me and his eyes say everything. They are deep and dark, but they are on me.

  Me.

  He is holding on, to me.

  I never expected to find a man like this, especially not a man like Sawyer. A man who’s graced movie screens and magazine covers. A man who could have anyone, anywhere.

  But here he is.

  Here.

  “I love you, Sadie. I don’t fucking know what’s gonna happen, and I hate that I can’t be sure. But my love for you is the one thing I am certain about. I wish I were a better man for you, a stronger man, but here I am, telling you that my heart is yours.”

  I kiss him hard, salty tears streaming down my cheeks and the air around us still.

  “Don’t cry, Sadie.”

  “Dammit, Sawyer. The words you just said, I’ve never heard words like that in my life. I don’t know a lot, never went to college,,. I barely finished high school. I worked at a laundromat and could rarely pay all the bills on time, and I killed a man. What do I have to offer anyone? What do I have to offer you?”

  “I don’t need anything but your love, Sadie. That’s all I want from you. You saw me at my lowest, yet you love me the deepest.”

  Those words slay me in the most beautiful way. They are words that erase my fears and give me the grace to accept the love he has to give.

  To accept him for all that he is and all he may become.

  “I love you, Sadie. I love you.” He repeats it as if he knows I need to hear those words more.

  Forever.

  Now.

  “I love too,” I tell him. “I love you so hard, Sawyer Bennett.” He brushes the last of my tears away and kisses my cheeks, refusing to let go of my body.

  Our love story has been an isolated mess of a story, but it is our love story.

  Maybe we needed the last few weeks alone, with no one else attempting to burst our bubble, so we would feel safe enough give one another what we so achingly dreamed of: acceptance.

  We fall asleep in a tangle of professed love, believing in the power of what we’ve found.

  So, when we’re greeted with a loud knock on the door a few hours later, with the early morning dawn barely breaking through, I sit up with a jolt, shocked at being taken away from my bliss.

  Dusty calls out, knocking again, “Sadie, you need to open up, now.”

  “What is it?” I say scrambling from the bed and grabbing a tank top and pulling on a pair of shorts. In bare feet, I pull open the door. “What’s happening?”

  “Sadie, your mama’s here.”

  15

  By the time we cross the parking lot to Dusty’s, Sadie is having a full-on panic attack.

  She holds my hand so tight the blood has stopped flowing freely.

  But that’s okay. That’s why I’m here.

  Why I’m here for her.

  Because I love her and need to be a rock she can hold onto. God knows I’ve been like shifting sand over the last few weeks.

  Now, I will be solid as stone.

  Inside the bar, I see a petite woman, a near mirror image of Sadie herself. She’s older, of course, with the same long dark hair and same dark eyes of her daughter. And I swear she’s shaking just as badly as Sadie is.

  “Mom, what are you doing here?” There is fear in Sadie’s eyes. She doesn’t know if her mom is going to unleash on her for what she did or pull her into a hug.

  “Sweetie, I had to find you. I had to tell you.” Tears are brimming in her eyes, she looks as broken as Sadie felt when we first met.

  “Do you hate me?” Sadie asks, needing to get to the heart of things.

  Her mom shakes her head, hard.

  “Not for a second, Sadie.” Maria wraps her arms around her daughter, and they tremble, embracing as the tears fall freely down their cheeks.

  “Why don’t I get you some coffee, maybe bacon, eggs?” Dusty asks. The women don’t acknowledge him, but he seems to need a way out of this emotional reunion.

  “That sounds fine, Dusty,” I tell him.

  Eventually they step apart, and Dusty brings out coffee. Sadie manages to introduce us. “This is my mom, Maria. And mom, this is Sa—this is Bennett. And this is Dusty, I’ve been working for him. Now that that’s out of the way will you please explain?”

  Dusty cuts in. “Why don’t you sit down.” The moment he speaks, Sadie balks. Dusty isn’t having any of it. “This is not a question, it’s an order. In this booth. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  I watch Dusty leave for the back kitchen again, and honestly, I’m a little jealous that he has something to do with his hands. I’m tempted to follow him back there, but Sadie reaches for my hand and pulls me down to seat next to her.

  Across from her mom, I can’t help but notice that the two women haven’t exchanged any I love you’s.

  Bile rises in my throat as I consider what kind of exchange I would have with my own parents if they saw me back from the dead.

  It’s not a question I want to know the answer to.

  “Mom, I’m glad you found me, I really am, I just didn’t want to put you in any sort of compromising position by knowing where I went. Teddy went to find you so I could send you money to make sure you’re okay.”

  Sadie’s mom reaches for her hands across the table. Gripping them tightly, their eyes lock. As I watch the exchange, my heart skips a beat. Damn, whatever is gonna come next isn’t gonna be easy—I can tell that by the way Maria looks at Sadie so intently. With so much fucking fear in her eyes.

  “I’m not a fool, I knew you did and I know why you left. And I thank you for that, Sadie. There aren’t a lot of daughters who would do that for their mother. You sacrificed so much for me. You…,” Maria shakes her head. “You tried to save my life.”

  “Tried? Mom, I did. One more day and I swear to God he would have beaten you to death. He was stressed out about not having money, drinking so much—and every day he hit you. I was so scared for you. That’s why I did it.”

  “You don’t need to justify anything to me.”

  “I didn’t come after you because I didn’t want you to know where I was in case the police started asking questions. The last thing I wanted to do was to drag you into some sort of legal battle neither of us could afford.”

  “Nobody knows it was you,” Maria tells us. “That mobile home was so old. The fire could have started a million different ways. At least that’s how the police have spun it, but I know the truth. And so does your step-daddy.”

  Sadie’s eyes darken. “How can he know that, from the grave?”

  Sadie’s mom swallows hard, bites her bottom lip, a look that I’ve seen her daughter make so many times.

  There’s more to the story.

  “He didn’t die in the fire.”

  The words blindside Sadie, she gasps, shocked. He didn’t die.

  �
�If he knows I did it... And he’s still alive.” Sadie stops talking, her hands shaking so hard that when Dusty brings us our cups of coffee, she can’t even bring the mug to her lips.

  “I had to warn you,” her mom continues. “He’s gonna come after you. He’s trying to now. I’m not an idiot, even though I think you may believe I am. I know I stayed with him too long, but I never felt like I had a choice. I felt trapped in a house of my own making. I’m weak, Sadie. I’ve never been like you, someone who just pulls up her bootstraps and focuses on survival. Me, I lay down on the ground when life got hard.”

  Her words hit me in the chest, eliciting sympathy. Empathy. Feelings I never expected to have for a woman who stayed in a bad situation for so damn long.

  She felt trapped in her life even though she had the power to leave.

  I felt trapped, stuck too. But I could’ve gone anywhere. I was desperate. Just like Maria was. It took something crazy––those leaked photos—to push me over the edge.

  Yes, I made a choice so fucking drastic.

  Did it have to be that way?

  “Are you still with him?” Sadie asks.

  Maria shakes her head. “When I saw Teddy snooping around, I had nothing to lose, I went up to him and laid everything on the table. I was desperate to see you and I made him bring me here. Don’t be mad at him.... If he hadn’t helped me... I don’t know where I’d be right now.”

  It’s only then that I see Teddy across the bar, hunched over, glancing our way furtively.

  He walks over, looking slightly embarrassed for giving up our lead.

  “I know you didn’t ask me to bring her back, but when I heard the story,” Teddy says, looking at Sadie. “I wanted to bring her back, I knew it would make you happy.”

  Sadie flings her arms around Teddy, whose face gets a bout fifty shades brighter with having Sadie in his arms. “Thank you so much Teddy. You found my mom and brought her here in one piece. I can never thank you enough.”

  “It’s nothing, Sadie,” he mumbles, but when she steps back, beaming at him, there is pride on his face. Damn right.

  “You’re the best kind of man,” I tell him, shooting straight.

  Teddy waves off the compliments, and heads outside to smoke.

  “That was so good of him to do that,” Sadie says, sitting back down.

  “Well, the guys in love with you,” I say. “He’d do anything for you.”

  Sadie smiles. “He’s a sweetheart, for sure. And we’re lucky to have him in our little fucked up family.” She exhales then, looking at her mom, picking back up where we left off. “Is he really coming after me?”

  “He may already be on his way.” Maria shakes her head.

  Sadie blinks, and for a second I wonder if this information is going to bring her to tears. But when she looks up, I see the girl I have fallen for. Her eyes are ablaze. Her mouth in a firm line. The tears we shed last night, they have no place here. I witness the change in her. Steeling herself, bracing herself against whatever comes next. She’s strong and determined.

  She is a force to be reckoned with. She tried to kill a man once and I believe she would do it again if she had the chance.

  “Good,” she says. “He should come here. He should come here and try to do something to me. Do something to us. He’s not going to hurt me and he’s not gonna hurt you. I swear on my life.”

  “Sadie, I never asked for you to be my guardian angel. You don’t have to protect me,” her mom says.

  “I’m not asking for permission.”

  I don’t ask now how she plans on carrying this mission out because maybe that part doesn’t matter. Maybe when you’re so committed to something, so damn resolute, nothing can change your mind.

  “I love you,” she says. “And I would do anything for you.”

  “But you must hate me. Hate me for being so weak.”

  At this, Sadie’s eyes pull toward mine, she smiles softly.

  “I think everyone’s a little confused about what strength and weakness mean. Mom, I think sometimes it’s really hard to be strong when you’re all alone. But you’re not alone anymore.”

  Her words are tender and they are words I understand.

  And I understand a hell of a lot more, too. I understand her mom’s choice to stay with her stepdad for so long. It wasn’t weakness. It was fucking fear.

  But maybe love is strong enough to conquer all kinds of fear. Maybe love is strong enough to conquer everything dark or wicked or small or vain.

  Maybe love can conquer all.

  Sadie is made of love. Of pure, no holding back, unconditional love.

  I’m watching her now and there is no resentment inside of her. Even though she has a million reasons to resent her mom if she wanted to. Resent the life she was handed.

  But instead, Sadie is just grateful for the life that she has now.

  When I said goodbye to my parents the night before I faked my death, the only thing I was filled with was anger.

  I wonder what it would’ve been like to be filled with something different. What would it have been like if I had been soft instead of hard? If I had been forgiving instead of condemning.

  Is there a place for acceptance when you’re faced with your enemy? Is there room for grace when you have been wronged?

  I think about the article, the one that spun me out of control last night. The photos of my parents on the red carpet. I can’t help but wonder if maybe there’s more to their story. More to all of this. Maybe the line between regret and mercy is finer than I thought. Maybe they have been hiding behind their own shadows for far too long.

  And maybe the night I learned the truth about how Cal’s parents died, I didn’t ask the right questions.

  Perhaps they were too scared to recognize the truth.

  Maybe they want forgiveness from Cal’s parents, but it’s too late to get it. They can’t make an apology to people who are already dead.

  Cal’s parents really are gone, not a fake death like mine. They were buried and will be in their graves forever.

  My parents haven’t had the chance to make amends with me because I took that choice from them the day I went away.

  Maybe they want my forgiveness as badly as I want their unconditional love.

  And maybe it’s crazy to want something that could ruin me all over again...,but maybe that is what true love is.

  A fucking risk.

  A miracle.

  A gift none of us deserve.

  Cal’s parents can’t come back from the dead and have a do-over, and my parents will have to live with that fact for the rest of their lives.

  But, me?

  I thought I was already a phoenix rising from the ashes, but maybe I haven’t risen yet.

  Maybe there is still hope for me yet.

  16

  A few days go by, all of us a little raw, a little shaken. Dusty has an extra room in his house and is letting my mom stay there.

  I’ve never felt so relieved by a living situation in my life. With Dusty in the house, I absolutely know my mother is safe and it fills me with a relief I never knew I was looking for. My mom needs a protector and for now, she’s found that with Dusty.

  I’m not trying to get ahead of myself, but guessing by the way he looks at her, I understand exactly what it is going on there.

  Because the way Dusty looks at my mom is the same way Sawyer looks at me. With softness, with pride. With desire.

  “Why are you smiling?” Sawyer asks, coming up behind me in the basement of Dusty’s house.

  I’m doing laundry here, grateful that Dusty’s house is on the same piece of property as the bar and the cottage. Between Dusty’s washer and dryer, the kitchen, and the bar, we have everything we could need all on this one piece of land.

  Part of me imagines never leaving, staying here forever with Sawyer and my mom and Dusty and having a safe, albeit small, existence.

  But then I catch Sawyer looking on the Internet, reading again and again and again arti
cles about his old life, his old friends. Interviews given by people who were on the red carpet the night that Cal punched Danny Bruneau in the face. He’s reading interviews from famous actors and actresses about Sawyer Bennett’s death. I’m not saying he’s obsessed, but I know him. And I know he is wondering if he made the right choice by faking his suicide.

  He wraps his arms around me now as I’m adding detergent to the washing machine, his mouth nuzzling my neck, kissing me playfully. My hair’s wrapped up in a bun at the top of my head and my bare skin tingles with his lips against me.

  I’m smiling because I’m not working at the bar tonight. I love Tuesdays and Wednesdays. My days off, when I get to spend the whole day in Sawyer’s arms.

  With my mom here right now, it’s nice to have the bar closed for a few days so I can spend some time with her and figure out what we’re going to do next.

  Mom and Dusty don’t know the truth about Sawyer, and we intend on keeping it that way. Trust or not, some secrets are meant to be buried. Besides, it isn’t my secret to tell.

  “I talked to Dusty and Teddy,” Sawyer tells me. “They think your stepdad left town, no one can find a trace of him at the mobile home park.”

  The day my mom returned with Teddy, we sent Teddy back on the road to go scout out my stepdad. To trace him so when he leaves town we’ll have a head’s up.

  A good thing about Dusty is that he’s connected. He knows people from Indianapolis. The same bouncers and security who come out for the nights the Fuck Club is open. Thankfully, they’re on standby in case of an emergency. In case my stepdad shows up with a vengeance.

  “Dusty told me he was opening the club this weekend,” I tell Sawyer. “He said there’s a set schedule and his clients are expecting the doors to be open. I kinda wish he wouldn’t open it this weekend. It seems like we don’t need any more people walking around here right now. Recognizing you.”

  “Dusty doesn’t have a reason to think I am a problem. He probably figures if your stepdad showed, all the bouncers would be here anyway. Smart, actually,” Sawyer explains.

  “If you told him who you were, he’d change his mind.”