by Bella Jewel
“Would it bother you if they did?” Bohdi asks, and I turn to face him.
“I don’t ... I’m not sure ...”
I don’t know how I feel about that, to be honest. Bryant was a monster, a monster who kept me and Cova from our lives for a long time, but the idea of him dying for us ... knowing that he was killed because of me, I don’t know if my conscience is okay with that.
I’m not a monster.
I’m not sure taking someone from this life is how I’d deal with things.
I know the club works differently.
“Does Cova know?” I ask softly.
“No,” Briella answers. “We never told her, we just took her and told her he ran off. She’s going to figure it out, but that’s not what worries me. It’s the fact that she’s going back to a place, and to people, that are dangerous. I don’t understand why she wants to be with him so badly.”
“He’s all she knew,” I say, understanding.
Bryant liked Cova. A lot. In fact, I think he actually grew fond of her. Sure, he was still keeping her as a slave, but he also treated her better than me. I think, in her own twisted way, she thought he was special and that she was important. She thinks he loves her. Hell, she thinks she loves him. Her life was hard, and because of that, she grew fond of the person who took her from that, even if what he gave her wasn’t healthy, or safe.
“Still,” Briella paces the room, her hands tangled in her hair, her eyes stressed. “He purchased her and kept her as a slave. I don’t understand.”
“You wouldn’t, because it’s difficult to understand, but I understand. I saw the things only she knows, and I can see why she thinks that’s the best place for her. She’s miserable here, she has nobody to lean on or rely on. I’m not saying you’re not trying, gosh, you have all been wonderful to us, but what I’m saying is in her mind, you’re the captors who took her from a life she was content on living.”
“God, you make so much sense when you talk.” Waverly smiles at me. “You’re so clever, Merleigh.”
“Any idea where we might find her?” Mykel asks me.
I shift, my leg giving me a little pain. “I know a few places, but I imagine she’ll start with the house. I do know a few people around that area he had a lot to do with; she may go to them.”
“Then I guess we had better go looking for her tomorrow.” Alarick exhales. “Nothin’ we can do tonight. Merleigh, you okay to come and give us a hand? You know it all better than anyone.”
I don’t.
I really don’t.
But for Cova, I will.
I understand why they need me, I am the only one who understands, who knows, but going back there ... facing that again ... I’m not sure if I’m going to be okay with that.
I have my own life now, I’ve moved on, the club saved me and gave me a family I never thought I’d have, but that doesn’t mean the memories of my former life don’t sit in the back of my mind, haunting me.
“I will help,” I say, my voice a little shaky.
“Are you sure, honey?” Waverly asks, narrowing her eyes.
“No pressure. If you can’t help us, we completely understand,” Alarick says carefully.
“No, it’s okay. I’m happy to help.”
I’m not, though.
God.
I’m utterly terrified.
“WHAT WAS IT LIKE THERE?”
Everyone has gone to bed for the night and Bohdi and I are sitting on the front swing, his big body next to mine, his body heat making me feel safe, warm, and at ease. I love being this close to him, even though I know I shouldn’t let those feelings in. I can’t help the way I feel when I’m around him, it’s automatic.
Unstoppable.
“Where?” I ask, staring out into the dark night.
“With that prick who took you.”
Oh.
That.
I shrug, lightly. “He was cruel, unforgiving, and mean. But, he did keep us fed and secured. Coming from the life I came from, it wasn’t that bad. I guess, at the very least, I had a warm bed to sleep in every night and food in my stomach.”
“Why didn’t you run?”
“Where would I have run to?” I say with a broken smile. “I had nobody, Bohdi. No family. No friends. Nothing. Dax got me off the streets and sold me to a place that wasn’t any worse than the one I had come from. If anything, it was better. If I did what Bryant wanted, he left me alone. He fed us drugs, kept us content ...”
“He’s a fuckin’ monster.”
“Yeah, he is. But sometimes it’s better the monster you know ...”
“What happened to your family, Merleigh?”
“My dad was never in the picture. My mom and sister died in a car accident when I was only two. I don’t remember them. I didn’t have any family so I was placed into foster care. I’m sure you can imagine what the system is like, it’s hard and people are cruel. At sixteen, I moved out with my boyfriend at the time. He got me onto drugs, and I was messed up in a bad way. I was a junkie, living on the streets because he got us kicked out of the place we were living in and, honestly, I was a mess. That’s where Dax found me and took me in, promising this amazing life ...”
“And then he sold you.”
“Yeah, he sold me. To Bryant Luther. He was only young, god, when I first met him I thought for sure he was going to be incredible. He showed me this house and all these nice things, and I thought, well, it can’t be any worse than the life I was living. Plus, he was providing us drugs at no cost. At the time, I thought that’s exactly where I wanted to be.”
Bohdi clenches his fists.
“You don’t have to be angry for me, Bohdi. I’m here now. The club got me out and now I’m safe. That’s more than I ever deserved.”
Bohdi turns, his expression sharp when he takes my jaw in his hand and forces my face toward his. My eyes widen, and I gasp. He growls low, his voice so powerful it sense shivers down my spine when he speaks. “Don’t you ever think you deserved a single fuckin’ thing you got. You deserve this life and so much more. Do you understand me?”
I nod, swallowing.
“You’re a fuckin’ angel, Merleigh. You’re here for a reason.”
Oh, my.
My heart races, and I pull my face from his, because if I stare at him a second longer, I’ll want to kiss him and do all the things to him I know I shouldn’t. He’s married. He has a wife, a child, and a step child. He’s got things in his life he has to sort out, and I can’t be the one to get in the way of that.
“I’d never hurt you,” he says, his voice low.
“I know that,” I answer, softly.
“Don’t ever pull away from me like I will.”
I look to him. “Oh, Bohdi. That’s not why I pulled away.”
He goes to answer, but his phone rings. It’s Isla. Exhaling, he takes the call and stands, walking inside.
I fold my legs up on the chair and lean back, yawning. We’ve been out here talking for hours. I don’t even know what time it is but it must be close to early morning. I need some sleep, and I need to stretch out in my bed and try not to think about the little trip we’re taking to try and find Cova tomorrow.
I’m not at all looking forward to that.
Bohdi returns a moment later with his phone in his hand. “I better get home.”
“You’re driving?” I say, narrowing my eyes. “It’s late, Bohdi. You could fall asleep.”
“Isla is losing her shit. I need to go and calm her down, for the boys’ sakes. I’ll call you tomorrow. Keep your leg elevated tonight.”
With that, he disappears down the front stops.
Bohdi always leaves when there is so much more to say.
I wonder if we’ll ever get to finish saying it?
8
THEN – BOHDI
19 YEARS OLD
“I’m pregnant.”
The words come out of Isla’s mouth, and I stand, staring at her in horror. I just spent the morning escaping m
y raging mother and now my girlfriend of nearly two years is telling me she’s pregnant. I couldn’t think of two worse words that she could say right now. That very sentence makes my skin crawl.
I’m working two jobs, I can barely keep a roof over my head, my mother is losing it more and more with every passing day, and now Isla is telling me she’s pregnant. We’ve had a few moments where we haven’t used a condom, but she assured me she’s on the pill. I believed her.
I guess I was wrong to do so.
“What?” I say, dropping the smoke from my hand and stomping it out with my foot. “Tell me I just heard you wrong.”
“I found out yesterday. I didn’t know how to tell you. I don’t know what to do, Bohdi. I’m only eighteen. This is the worst thing.”
She’s crying now, tears rolling down her cheeks. I run a hand through my hair, heart racing. Fuck. We can’t do this. We can’t.
“Okay, calm down. Let’s work this out. Are you sure?”
She throws her hands up, screeching, “Of course I’m sure. I’m not stupid. I did seven tests, and they all came back positive.”
“Don’t scream at me,” I say, calmly, even though my insides are fucking crumbling. “I am askin’ a question. What do we do from here?”
“I don’t know,” she wails. “That’s what I’m asking you. I don’t know what to do. I don’t believe in abortions, but I’m too young and ... I don’t know what to do.”
She’s sobbing now. Really sobbing.
I take her and pull her into my arms. She sobs and clings to me, trembling. She’s scared—fuck, I’m scared. This is the absolute worst thing that could happen right now, but it’s not all her fault. I could have been more careful, too.
“I thought you were on the pill,” I say into her hair. “I thought we were safe.”
“I am on the pill, I don’t know how this happened.”
“Did you miss one?”
She pulls back, glaring at me. “Stop treating me like I’m stupid, Bohdi!”
“I’m askin’ a fuckin’ question,” I bark. “Fuck me, I’m allowed to ask how the fuck this happened.”
“Stop swearing at me,” she wails.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
“I need a minute, give me a fuckin’ minute.”
I turn and walk off toward the beach, lighting another cigarette. Fuck. I don’t know what to do, I don’t even know what our options are here. We can’t afford a baby, we can’t afford an abortion. If she is seen to be pregnant in this town, even if we give it up for adoption, people are going to lose it. Her parents will lose it. Fuck.
I lean against a tree, closing my eyes and inhaling the smoke, trying hard to figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to do with this information.
“I’m afraid.”
I didn’t hear Isla approach, and when I look, she’s standing in front of me, arms crossed, tears rolling down her cheeks. “We’ll figure it out, we will. I just don’t know how yet.”
“I could get a job ... save some money and ...”
“And what? What then? Raising a baby costs money. We have nowhere to live.”
“You have a house.”
“With a fucking mother who is an alcoholic junkie. You can’t be fuckin’ serious.”
“My parents will kick me out. If they find out, I’m gone.”
“I need to think, Isla.”
“I’m scared, Bohdi.”
“I know you are, but screaming and crying isn’t going to change it. Calm down and let me work this out.”
She, in typical Isla style, turns and rushes off. I don’t have the patience or the heart to go after her. I know she’s scared but, fuck me, I’m scared too. I have zero idea how the hell I’m supposed to afford anything to do with a baby. Even if she doesn’t keep it, where do we find the money to get her an abortion? We could go to her parents, but like she said, they’d kick her out and then I have an extra mouth to feed regardless.
I can’t win.
I walk on the beach for fucking hours until I run into Carson and Sean surfing. They see me, and Carson comes jogging up to me, board under his arm, hair wet. I don’t get much time to surf anymore. Fuck, I wish I could spend my days in the water again, without a care in the world, but I simply don’t have the means anymore. I’m working two jobs and now I have a pregnant fucking girlfriend.
I haven’t even lived yet.
“Bro, I’ve been wondering where you are. Where’s your board?” Carson asks, panting.
“Don’t have time to surf today, brother,” I mumble, distracted.
“What’s goin’ on? You never surf anymore? Is it your momma? You want us to help out?”
They’re good friends. The best, really. But they don’t understand. They’ve got good, supportive families who give them the time to surf and fuck around. I don’t have that luxury.
“It’s a lot of fuckin’ things. I gotta go, I need to figure some stuff out.”
“You good, brother?” he asks, narrowing his eyes. “You know we’ve got your back.”
“Yeah,” I say, nodding. “Yeah, I know.”
I disappear back to my shack, where it’s surprisingly quiet. Mom is asleep, for how fucking long I don’t know, but for now I have a moment to think. And think I do. I can’t figure out any other way than to do the one thing I swore I’d never do—call my father. I need help, and the only way I can get through any of this is to reach out to the one person who has the means to do so.
Whether he will or not is a whole other story.
But right now, I have no choice.
After a bit of research, I manage to find his contact details. It wasn’t like it was hard, he’s on Facebook, I know where he lives, and it didn’t take much to track down where he works. I haven’t done it before, because I haven’t wanted to, but I could have. At any time I could have.
I call his place of work, and a young girl answers. I ask her for him, and she tells me she’ll put me through.
That easy.
So simple.
Yet my heart feels like it’s going to launch out of my chest. My hands are shaking, and I’m sick to my stomach. I don’t have any other choice and, yet the idea of speaking to him makes me feel things I’ve long since bottled up.
“Hello, Edward speaking.”
The moment I hear his voice, a memory flashes into my mind. I’m young, I don’t know how old, and he’s throwing me into the air. He throws me up, and I squeal with laughter as he catches me again. I can see his face, so clearly. He’s happy, laughing, looking at me with the kind of love I haven’t seen since.
“Hello?” his voice echoes through the phone when I don’t answer.
“Dad?”
I don’t mean it to come out like that, hell, I didn’t even think about it.
Dad.
He’s not my dad.
He’s the man who made me but he left me. He left me with nothing and made sure it stayed that way.
I don’t think he deserves the honor of being called Dad, and yet that’s what automatically slipped through my lips.
“Bohdi? Bohdi, is that you?”
Oh, so he does remember he has a son.
“Yeah.”
He goes silent, for so long I actually think he might have hung up.
“Are you still there?” I question.
“I’m here, son. I’m here I just can’t believe ... I can’t believe it’s you.”
“I’m sorry to have to bother you, I’m sure you’d rather hear from anyone else, but I have no choice.”
“That’s not true. I have thought about this day ...”
“Funny, because you’ve never come to see me so I doubt that you’ve thought about it. I’m not here to listen to any sort of lies, I’m here to ask for help.”
“Son, I’m not telling you lies. I ...”
“I don’t care. Okay? I don’t care. I just need help.”
He exhales. “I don’t know what she has told you over the years,
Bohdi, but you’ve got it so damned wrong.”
My heart aches. I want to ask him what he means, to hear him tell me he still cares. But he doesn’t. If he cared, he’d be here. If he cared, he wouldn’t have left. I don’t want to hear his excuses. I just need him to step up so that I can do the best by the girl I’m with because, one thing I am certain of, is that I’m nothing like him.
“Can you help me or is this a waste of a phone call?” I ask.
“I can help you, son,” he sounds defeated. “What is it you need?”
“Mom is destroyed, because of you. She doesn’t work, she doesn’t pay bills, she is an alcoholic and a junkie. I’m living in hell, the kind of hell you can’t begin to understand but it’s the hell you left us in. Now, my girlfriend is pregnant. I can’t take care of her and Mom, so I need money.”
“Your mom has money, son.”
“She has no fucking money.”
“Then she’s lying to you. I’ve been giving her money for you, every month, since I left.”
It feels like a sledgehammer to the chest when he says those words. He’s been giving her money? All this time? Where the hell has it gone?
“You’re lying,” I growl.
It’s easier to believe he’s lying than to believe that she has been the one to take everything from me, too.
“I’m not. I have every transaction here as proof. I didn’t realize things were so bad. I knew she hated me, but I didn’t know she was going down such a dark path.”
“You left us,” I growl. “What kind of path did you think she was going to fucking go down?”
“She kicked me out, I didn’t leave. Then she made sure I’d never see you again.”
“I’m so sick of fucking lies,” I roar. “You’re all lying to me. Can you help me or not?”
“Son, I’m not lying. I’d love the chance to see you, to talk to you, to help you ...”
“I don’t want to talk to you,” I yell. “I just want help.”
“Who is that?”
The scornful voice comes from behind me. I spin around to see my mother standing at the door, her eyes hazy from drugs, her hands shaking.
“Mom,” I say carefully.
