Hayden's Verse

by A. C. Bextor

  “A few stitches and I’ll be ready to go home.”

  He lifts his eyes to mine. “We should’ve been home already.” His voice is raspy, centering around angry.

  “Are you pissed at me?”

  “No.”

  “You are. How’s that possible?” I motion toward the bandage at my thigh, the bandage that is about to hold painful stitches.

  “Drop it.”

  “Fine,” I utter just as Travis storms in with a visibly shaken Rae at his heels.

  “What the fuck happened?” he shouts at me, disregarding the obvious, which I’m sure Rae has already filled him in on.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t fucking look fine.” He turns his anger to Hayden. “What the fuck happened?”

  “She got hurt,” he states again, in the same monotone he offered moments earlier.

  “I can fuckin’ see that, genius. Who cut her?”

  Rae grabs Travis’s sweatshirt by the hood to get his attention, but he pushes away from her and walks toward me. “Mel handled it,” I tell him, sensing that’s not enough of an answer.

  Leaning down and getting closer to me, he eyes my body up and down, leaving me feeling small and exposed. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Trav, let’s go. She’s okay,” Rae pleads as Travis straightens and walks to Hayden who still sits stoically unmoving.

  “You got her?”

  “Yeah,” Hayden wipes his face with his hands. “I’ll take her home. She’ll call you in the morning.”

  “If you need anything tonight, call,” Trav says to me then passes Rae on the way out of the room. Her eyes widen as she takes in my strained face. I could cry, but it wouldn’t do anyone any good.

  Getting into the condo was a challenge but I didn’t do it alone. Hayden walked beside me but showed little interest in how I was feeling. His behavior is starting to wear me down, and that’s saying a lot considering the evening I’ve had.

  Once inside, I put down my purse and take off my coat. I start to move toward the bedroom but I’m pulled back by the waist and my back slams into his front.

  “What are you doing?” I ask no one because he’s not listening.

  His hand comes to the front of my body; his fingers find the waistband of my skirt and he slides his fingers down into my panties. I’m motionless.

  His voice, raspy and strained, whispers in my ear as he pauses his hand, “You got hurt.”

  “I’m okay. Nothing happened.”

  Pushing on my back at the same time his hand comes out of my skirt, he gently prods me toward the bedroom. Once there, he shuts off the light and starts to take his clothes off.

  “Hayden, I’m tired.” I am, but admit to myself I’m a little scared of his quiet disposition.

  When the slice of the broken bottle hit my leg I gasped from the pain, but it was more fear I felt. I had never been an up-close and personal witness to a bar brawl that included makeshift weapons. I heard the men going at it next to me and signaled to Kelly to get Mel but by the time I was able to call attention to what was happening, it was too late. I buckled under the pain and landed on my ass as the two men continued going at each other.

  If it weren’t for Ace and Trey, I’m not sure I would’ve walked away as unharmed as I did. Hayden was paralyzed in anger. I felt it seep off him as he held me tightly in his arms, his voice lethal as he questioned Mel. He hasn’t been the same since it happened.

  I don’t know how to help him.

  Hayden doesn’t answer my subtle plea for rest; he only continues to undress. The moon in the bedroom casts his shadow in front of me; the pendant in place gets closer with his approach.

  Grabbing the hem of my shirt, he lifts it over my head and drops it to the floor.

  “Hayden,” I say, while grabbing his hands to stop him. “What are you doing?”

  Again, no response. He unzips the back of my bloody skirt, pulling it down my legs and carefully maneuvering it around the bandage on my right thigh. I’m standing naked in front of him except for my bra as he grabs my hips and turns my body, bending me over and putting my hands on the bed in front of us.

  This is a side to Hayden I’ve not seen before. He’s jerky with his movements and very little emotion is apparent. “I won’t take long.”

  He enters before I’m ready and I gasp hoarsely at his invasion. Before long, he’s thrusting into me violently. I stare at the comforter under me, half-enjoying the feel of him since the distance on the way home bothered me. I’m also half-pissed I had tried to refuse this but my attempts were ignored.

  Grabbing my hips, I feel him suffering as he can’t find his release. I stand, pushing my body forward and forcing him to pull out so I can turn around. Once I do, he pushes gently on my chest, asking me without words to lie down in front of him. His face is hard, not an ounce of warmth or affection lacing his features.

  The distance is greater than I’ve ever felt since our arrangement started.

  He nods as we’re face to face, satisfied with this position as he places his hips between my thighs, and thrusts into me again. He’s not kissing me, caressing me, or touching me at all.

  “What’s wrong, Hayden?” My voice spurs him into more rapid thrusts. The motions jar me and as they do, I feel the pain in my leg. “Please,” I say louder, hoping to catch his attention. “Look at me!”

  As he continues to ignore me, I push at his chest. My legs straighten to avoid further invasion and I let out a cry to capture his attention. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says, continuing the assault.

  My body snaps back after his apology. Gaining strength, I move up the bed and push him directly in the chest to get him off me before he has a chance to finish. “Why are you doing this, Hayden?”

  He stops, starts to stand, but situates himself on the edge of the bed not facing me. Grabbing the covers, I pull them up, leaving me physically less exposed. “What the fuck is the matter with you?” I demand, losing the little patience I have left.

  “I’m sorry,” he tells me before he grabs his jeans from the floor. “For everything, Lacey. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t understand. What have I done?”

  “Nothing.” His voice is soft and broken. I would’ve missed the response had I not been waiting for it.

  “Something,” I tell him, hoping he’ll correct himself.

  He avoids further discussion and gives me instruction. “Stay here.”

  I hear him in the bathroom running water as I sit on the bed, aimlessly searching the room for a clue or answer to why he’s so angry. When he comes back, he stands over the bed saying nothing but looks to the bandage and hands me the towel with narrowing eyes. “Use this.”

  Turning around, he gathers his shirt. “You’re leaving?”

  “No. Going to lock up. I’ll be right back.”

  Before he’s out the door and before I lose my nerve, I call again for his attention. “What the fuck was that?”

  He pauses, grabbing the door at the frame and straightening his stance, and looks out into the other room. “I don’t know,” he answers as he walks away.

  Finally, after putting on my robe and lying in bed for a few minutes, I give in to sleep and wake up sometime later.

  When I do, I’m still alone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Hayden

  THE WORST LIE I’ve ever told was to myself. In this relationship, I’ve remained detached in a sense. I’ve tried to keep the distance from women I’m used to. I’ve been telling myself this arrangement has been fair and honest.

  It’s not either of those things.

  Self-told lies mask an emotion, an event, and if you let it, a future. I’m tired of lying.

  I fucked Lacey tonight like I would’ve fucked any other woman because I was restless, unsure, and afraid. If I’m being honest with myself, I was worse to her than any other woman. I fucked her and treated her like a nameless face, yes. But I also cared nothing ab
out what she was feeling. I used her body as I would any other: to avoid remembering who I was.

  The emotions when seeing her hurt flipped a switch in me I didn’t know existed. When I saw her small body surrounded by those men who carelessly hurt her, my heart beat against my chest in fear. My mind raced with uncertainties. I saw a brief vision of my life without her in it. Although, in reality, what happened to her could have been so much worse, my insides were gripped with both fear and anger.

  This isn’t casual or fun anymore. Things have changed for me.

  I hear her making her way out of my bedroom and then stop at the door. I don’t look at her—I can’t. She moves to turn the light on and when she does, I feel it shine brightly over my guilty conscience.

  “Turn it off and go back to bed, Lacey.”

  The light flips off, but she doesn’t move. When I glance over to where she’s standing, I see her arms over her chest and she’s draped in a look of sadness. The sadness I put there.

  “What are you doing out here?” she asks timidly, walking toward me with caution.

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  She takes a seat on the couch next to me, careful to keep enough distance to make us symbolic strangers. “Hayden.” Her voice is a whisper, shaky and concerned. “What’s going on?”

  A rightful question. She deserves an answer, but I don’t have it. “I don’t know.”

  “You’ve never done that.”

  I turn to face her and cock my eyebrow using the frustration I feel. “Fuck you?”

  “I guess.” She looks to her hands in front of her, as though unsure what to say.

  Silence surrounds us, the clock on the wall ticking as it delays the inevitable. “You should be sleeping.”

  “I can’t sleep if you’re not okay.”

  “I’m fine. Go and I’ll be in after a few more minutes.”

  “I’ll wait . . .”

  My tone gets angry, almost abusive. “Fucking go, Lacey. Damn it.”

  “I don’t understand this,” she answers my wrath as she stands and starts to walk away.

  I hear my broken voice reach to her before she makes it to the bedroom; my whisper fills the air and surrounds us in a vice meant to strangle. “You wouldn’t. But you will.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Lacey

  AS SURE AS I knew it would happen, Hayden was gone this morning when I woke up.

  After leaving him sitting alone in the living room last night, I made my way back to bed and suffered through my first sleepless night alone since all this started. I listened closely to the sounds of him walking through the house, pacing back and forth. The television came on briefly, and soon after the music of his iPod filtered through.

  Then nothing but silence.

  Tears of rejection coated my face, making it impossible for me to face him again. Although as badly as I wanted to run to him and find out what was happening, I thought better of it and decided to give him the space he obviously needed.

  Hayden requires a lot of space.

  Once I showered, made my way into the living room, and saw the blanket and pillow left out but neatly folded on the couch, I regretted last night’s decision not to push.

  I didn’t have a way home this morning so I had to call Travis. He was upset that he had to drive over to pick me up. Once he got to me, though, he looked at my swollen, tear-stained face, and recognition overpowered his angered state before his anger turned to sadness.

  “I told you this would happen,” he’d said after I briefly filled him in on the events that had taken place after we left the hospital.

  I tried to make excuses, protecting Hayden from his friends as I have before. I wasn’t fully certain as to where he went after he left, so I had little to say on his behalf.

  “I’m sorry, Lace,” he said before helping me inside the Jeep. The pain in my leg no longer registered in comparison to what I was feeling in my chest.

  “He got scared, Travis. It happens.”

  Travis understood the context of Hayden’s fear in which I was referring and stayed silent as I left him at the dining room table and made my way to my room. I didn’t come out until later that evening and when I finally did, I wish I wouldn’t have.

  Things had only gotten worse.

  *****

  Travis is standing in the kitchen, aimlessly searching through cabinet after cabinet while the voice on the phone adds to his already angered stance.

  “I don’t give a fuck what you’re feeling. You did exactly what I knew you’d do.” He stops talking, runs his free hand through his hair and turns around. When his eyes meet mine, they soften and his hand moves to his hip, his face falling to the floor. “I gotta go.”

  Throwing the phone on the counter, he pulls two beers from the fridge and walks toward me. I move to the living room couch and pull my knees up to my chest.

  “I didn’t need you to talk to him. I would’ve done it myself.”

  His face sets hard but I can sense he’s reeling in his thoughts of Hayden. “I know, but I had things to say and it’s better they get said now than wait.”

  “Something changed last night after I got hurt.” I look down to the bandage on my leg and press my hand over it as a reminder.

  “Yeah. How fuckin’ stupid is that?” His voice changes when he looks at me. “Lacey, I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, okay?” He points at my thigh. “This was an excuse. He was looking for a reason to end it and he found one.”

  “He’s not like that,” I respond. Until I know the reason, I refuse to believe what Trav’s saying.

  “This is your call. Like I told you before, this is how he is. You make the decision to talk to him or not. I’ll stay out of it, but I think it’s a good idea for you to stop staying over there as much.”

  “Maybe. Thanks for coming to get me today.”

  Trav stands while walking past me to his room, beer bottle in hand. “No problem, Lacey. I’ll take you to work when you’re ready.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Lacey

  IT’S BEEN ONE week and three days since I’ve talked to Hayden. Travis picked up some of my things from his place before band practice last night, making it final.

  I’m not invited back.

  I’ve been working as much as I can; it aids in keeping my mind busy. I haven’t attempted to contact him and I won’t. If he’s done, so be it. We’ll move forward and maybe when enough time has passed, he’ll explain what our last night was about and we’ll make our way to being friends again.

  We weren’t in love; we were exclusive. I care for him, but I went into this already knowing his boundaries.

  Hayden is untouchable.

  Tonight, The Ward is busy but it’s not as chaotic as it has been the past several Fridays. I haven’t seen Hayden yet but the rest of the band is here. Ace told me earlier he hasn’t heard anything from Hayden all week, and I know Travis hasn’t.

  “I like the new shirts,” Marlee says, leaning her body against the bar. “Those prison stripes were tacky. Girls don’t wear prison stripes.”

  “You prefer the orange?” I hate the new uniform, but the staff didn’t get to vote.

  “To the stripes, yes. You’re waitressing tonight?”

  I’ve been filling in with bartender duty over the last few weeks. It’s been a good change but the tips aren’t nearly as good. “Yeah, Kelly called in sick. Shelby can handle the bar better than I can anyway.”

  “The boys are about to go up. Toby’s nervous Hayden’s not gonna show.”

  “Has he ever not shown up?”

  Marlee’s eyes widen. I can tell she’s suddenly distracted. “Never mind. He’s here.”

  I turn to where she’s aiming her eyes and strolling in the front door with a blonde I’ve seen on his arm before is Hayden. She’s dressed in a small, black mini dress and high heels. She doesn’t look as arrogant as she once did. If anything, she looks nervous.

  “Shit. What’s up with that?” />
  “What?” I ask, feigning ignorance.

  “Hayden’s with Jenna? I thought you and he . . .”

  “No, we’re not. He’s free to fuck whoever he wants.”

  She looks at me, searching my face for the honesty I’m not giving her. “It’s who he is,” she says quietly. “Hayden wouldn’t hurt any woman on purpose. He’s more about self-inflicting pain.”

  “Marlee, it’s really okay.”

  “Okay, honey.” She places her hand on my arm for reassurance. “I’ll go. Raegan wants a vodka cranberry and I’d love an ice water.”

  “Got it.”

  Marlee walks away after squeezing my shoulder in an act of unsaid comfort. I can’t decide if I’m pissed or overly annoyed. Hayden appears to have moved on to a new exclusive already.

  Hayden makes his way to the stage and is setting up with the rest of them while Jenna sits at the table with Raegan. I wasn’t aware they were familiar with each other, but apparently I miss a lot when it comes to my new friends.

  “Slow night,” Shelby says, pouring the drinks I just ordered.

  “It is. Going to be a long one, too, if it doesn’t pick up.”

  Casually and with faked innocence, Shelby adds, “Was that Jenna I saw with Hayden a few minutes ago?”

  “Yep.”

  “Men,” she huffs, turning her glare to Mel who has no idea what he’s done to deserve the look she’s giving him. “All pigs.”

  “Hey!” he cries. Leaving me with a full tray, she punches his arm and walks to the back room behind the bar.

  Hayden’s voice quiets the area once the set starts. After his initial banter of introduction that lights a frenzy among the female fans, his ballad of seduction starts and casts silence through the crowd. It’s rare for Hayden to ever perform a ballad of any type, so the women are paralyzed with wanting.

  Unfortunately, I recognize the song.

  The verse from “Kept” by Matt Nathanson coming from Hayden’s vocal chords is unnerving. His voice is fluent and sincere as he quietly sings while only Travis accompanies him on the acoustic guitar.

  Traitor.

  Part of me is angered as the song’s lyrics strike. Hayden’s expressing himself through words written about a man who’s scared of letting someone in and the results of doing it unknowingly. He doesn’t know what he wants and won’t let me help him through it.