by A. C. Bextor
Ace steps in front of Hayden, pushing on his chest with his hand; he’s shorter but much larger in size so he does this with ease. Hayden tries to answer but doesn’t get a word out before Ace shuts him down and cuts him off. “Guitar, Cherry. I play the guitar.”
Travis and Hayden lock eyes. Travis shakes his head as if telling Hayden without words to not say anything more. Hayden’s bright smile says enough. If it’s such a big secret that has Hayden looking the way he does, I’m guessing Ace is pretty good with that guitar.
“ALL RIGHT, LADIES. What the ever-loving fuck was all that drama about back there?” Hayden asks while searching my face, then turning to Travis to do the same. No one answers. “Well? Someone needs to start talking. Who’s on their period?”
Travis does. He’s all about being Chatty Cathy when it comes to anything to do with Cherry. “I’m taking Raegan to see the wax museum tomorrow.”
Butting in, I attempt to cut him off. “She has plans. Can’t make it.”
Travis crosses his arms against his chest and leans his body against the truck. Casual move, but he’s full of shit. He’s as pissed as I am. “Tell me, Ace. What fuckin’ plans does she got ‘cause she seemed to be pretty fuckin’ open to doing anything. She told me she’s home all the time and she can’t live like that. Bean’s got more of a life than Raegan.”
Taking two steps toward Travis, my aim is to get in his face so he hears me loud and clear. “Cherry’s off-limits, asshole.”
“What did I miss? Damn, I always miss the good shit.” Rightfully so, Hayden is confused.
“What you missed was Ace pissin’ all over Raegan.” Travis looks from Hayden to me. “You said yourself last week that you and her were friends. Has this changed?”
No, it hasn’t, but I’m unsure how I feel about her hooking up with my friends. Let her meet someone else. No, fuck that, too; let her concentrate on getting her life together. “No, but she’s not ready…”
“Fuck, Ace. I didn’t say I wanted to date her. I like her; she’s sweet. Let me fuckin’ take her to the goddamn wax exhibit or whatever the hell it is, and I’ll bring her home right after. Does that help with easing your daddy complex?”
I think, momentarily, about punching one of my best friends in the mouth. He’s right, though; I can’t keep Cherry confined to the house. It’s not fair to her. I concede, but not without stipulation. “Fine. You pick her up here, you drop her off after. Don’t fuck with her, Trav. I mean it. She’s been through a lot and she’s doing well, so don’t fuck that up for her.”
“What the fuck? I’m not Hayden. I don’t want in her pants. I just thought since she’s here it would be nice if someone offered her something other than hostility. You’ve got enough of that for her.”
Hayden ends our conversation, not denying Trav’s point about him only being interested in a woman for sex. “Guys, can we stop with the drama and just go already? My dad’s garage is prepped and we’re ready to roll.”
“Let’s go,” I say while stepping into my truck as Travis follows behind me making his way to his Jeep.
On the forty-minute drive to the garage, I have time to cool down. I didn’t bring Cherry here to meet someone and fall in love. I brought her here to help with Bean and Sarah, get her life together, and get her son back. Wherever the road takes her after isn’t my business. She’s been a good friend to me since I’ve known her, and I’m paying her back. That’s it.
On the other hand, if I’m being honest with myself, why does the idea of her with Travis, Hayden, or anyone else piss me the fuck off? I don’t like complicated. I fuckin’ hate it.
Once I arrive at Hayden’s dad’s place, I pull out my phone and send Cherry a quick text. The picture she posted as her profile to my phone stares at me. Her bright smile, her dark hair blowing, and her dark-blue eyes jump out of the picture. It was a selfie she took on our way here. We had taken a scenic route so she could see the ocean, and she loved it. I’m amazed by her in many ways. How is it that someone could once be so broken but still come out swinging at life as she does?
Focusing on my words, I send the text.
09:29 a.m. Won’t be home ‘til late. Sleep in my room. Don’t dodge me again. That couch sucks and you know it.
Inviting her to my room, to be around all my things, is probably a mistake. But that couch isn’t comfortable, and I’m sure as fuck too big for the damn thing. I know she’s not sleeping with her nightmares are keeping her up at night.
Before stepping out of the truck, I get a return text.
Cherry 09:30 a.m. Couch does suck, but your snoring is worse. I’ll take my chances with the couch.
Denial, added with insult. What the fuck?
09:30 a.m. Do as you’re told.
Cherry 09:31 a.m. ’Cause it’s that easy? Couch.
09:32 a.m. If your ass is on that couch when I get home, it won’t be for long. Sayin’.
Cherry 09:33 a.m. Don’t you have to practice your banjo? I’ll sleep in your room, but only if Trav can take me out tomorrow. Compromise or lose, Ace.
I smile. Challenging little shit. We’ll see about that.
Once the guys and I wrap up, I check the time. It’s already eight o’clock in the evening and we’ve not gone to have our traditional end-of-practice beer. Fuck, I’ve lost a whole day. Although it felt good to hang with my friends like we used to, I keep thinking about Cherry sitting home in that fuckin’ apartment with Bean and Sarah all day. It’s now I make my decision. I’ve got to let her start living a life and finding friends, and the safest friends she could have are mine.
“Take her, Travis. Enjoy the day. Whatever you wanna do, I’ll back off.”
Hayden stops packing his bass and looks to Trav, who is breaking down his keyboard. Travis is as surprised as I am by my blessing. “You’re serious?”
“Serious. I trust you, just don’t let her out of your sight, okay? Like I said, there are things she’s lived through. If she wants to share those, that’s on her.”
Travis puts his case down and comes toward me, offering a fist bump. “She’ll be okay, Ace. Give her some space.”
Toby is lost with the entire conversation. He’s standing in the middle of the room, looking around at all of us as if we were a bunch of women making up after a quarrel.
Hayden notices and walks to him, pats him on the shoulder and explains his version. “Dude, don’t ask. You wouldn’t believe what I witnessed at Ace’s place this morning. Worse than castration, man. Jerry mother-fucking Springer episodes pale in comparison. Definitely rough.”
Toby laughs. “I’m gonna take your word for it, but I don’t remember the last time Travis said so many sentences in a row, so whatever Raegan is doing for him, let her do it.”
I actually hear myself growl in frustration to that statement, but let it go. It’s one fuckin’ day that she’ll be out of my sight and back in the public eye. One long, mother-fuckin’ day.
“Beer at The Ward, I’m not buying.” Of course, Hayden isn’t buying; he never does.
“Mooch,” Toby ribs.
“True that, mother fucker. I gotta spend all my money on the women. I’m getting older, and they’re starting to require more drinks then they used to.”
Each of us groan to one another before heading out to our cars and making our way to The Ward.
The parking lot is even packed. It’s Saturday night, so it’s no less packed than I would expect, but after the night we had last night, then the run-in with Travis this morning, and practice all day, my mind is spent.
Finding a table is easy when you use Hayden Flynn to do it. Two innocent women, out looking for a good time and enjoying a table to themselves, don’t stand a chance against Hayden’s charm. He convinces them to go to the bar and wait for him there. Whether he makes true on this commitment, no one will ever know. Not my business, and I don’t care either way, but I’m glad to take a load off.
The waitress, Shelby, brings us our usual rounds and leaves us to it. There’s
no live band tonight so we’re able to hear ourselves without interruption.
Toby starts. “So, Ace. You’re better this time after coming back from Ohio, I can tell.”
Hayden concurs before taking a pull from his beer. “I noticed as well, man. Good for you.”
Travis says nothing.
“It’ll take some time, but it’s good to be home.”
Lowering his voice and in a serious tone, but meant for all of them to hear, Toby prods. “But… you still miss her.”
“Yeah. I do.”
Sadey.
Toby continues. “It’s not my business, so don’t take this the wrong way.” I nod compliantly, giving him unspoken permission to keep going. “I never met Sadey. I’ve heard about her, from you of course, but never met her. I’m not so uncertain you don’t have the same feelings for Raegan that you did for her. Just an observation, don’t get pissed.”
“They’re two different people, Toby. Two completely different people.”
“Doesn’t mean they both don’t deserve what you have to offer, if you’re willing to offer that to Raegan. I saw the way she looked at you last night, Ace.”
“I’m not over Sadey.”
Hayden speaks on the subject, which is odd because he, of all people, has zero experience when it comes to relationships. “You won’t be over her until you let so much as the idea of someone else in.” Then, coming back to his former self, he offers, “She’s smokin’ hot, though. Gotta give her kudos for that. When we were on stage, before that asshole touched her, there wasn’t a man within distance that didn’t feel her presence, and they were feeling it hard, if ya know what I’m saying.”
Again, Travis says nothing. I can’t read his expression. I don’t know his true intent with Cherry and it pisses me off.
Picking up my beer, swallowing the last of it, and setting it down with a heavy hand, I explain my exit. “I’m goin’ home.” Then reiterate to Travis again. “Cherry gets up late. She doesn’t like mornings with me and Sarah. I’ll tell her you’ll pick her up at noon. Take care of her for me, Trav. I’m serious.”
He nods but doesn’t offer a verbal response.
Enough of this.
It’s midnight. After driving around town for a couple of hours, I admit I’m stalling to be sure Cherry’s asleep before heading home. Here I am now, sitting in my truck, looking at a picture of Sadey I’ve kept with me for as long as I’ve known her. She’s standing at the bar back at the Peril clubhouse last year with Hem, Shame, and Mace – her family.
I need to let her go, but how? It’s like an unrestrained pain centered in my chest and instead of fighting it, I cling to it like a cloak. I’m wrapped in its darkness, endearing it to me, as I struggle to hold onto her.
Sadey can only ever be a memory.
I can’t go back and get her. I can’t call her just to hear her voice. I can’t hold her, touch her, and kiss her. Fuck, I also can’t let her go.
After leaving the guys at The Ward and reliving every piece of advice they tried to offer, I needed time to process their words without being in the presence of Cherry. Parts of me believe they’re right; being completely honest, I know they are. Leaving Sadey Bug this last time killed me. A part of me truly died, pieces of my love for her shattering with every passing mile. It doesn’t make me miss her any less, but the end-game results have been tallied and announced: I lost. I’ve got to find a way to say goodbye.
The guys were right, to an extent, of Cherry’s feelings for me. I just hadn’t been aware that the others could see what I saw on her face when they looked at the two of us together. I’ve played oblivious in regards to how she may feel about me for a long time. However, they don’t know her past like I do. Cherry loves me for the only reason she can. She’s clinging to the one person who has shown her even the slightest compassion and trust. It’s understandable she would think of me in that regard. She sees me as a savior, and I won’t exploit that. I’ve done enough damage to those I care about to last me a fuck of a long time.
Walking in the apartment door, I find the couch empty. I smile knowing the ever-defiant and challenging woman finally did something I told her to do without putting out much of an argument. Even though I know she did it to get me to agree to let Travis take her out tomorrow, I’m thankful for her compromise nonetheless. I don’t like the idea, but I’m going with it. I trust Travis, and he’s never been one to exploit a situation for his favor, either. If Hayden would have asked the same thing, the answer would be a resounding “Fuck no”, but she’s safe with Trav. Still, though, it’s going to be a long fuckin’ day waiting for her to come back.
After locking up and turning out the lights, I move to my room and find Cherry in my bed. She’s wrapped in a ball, surrounded by my blankets and she’s sleeping peacefully. She doesn’t sleep easy and hasn’t since we got here.
Quietly, I take my clothes off, letting them drop to the floor. I crawl into the bed, sticking only to my side. The only woman who has slept in this bed was my ex-wife, Sylvie. She was a mistake of epic proportion in the wake of Sadey.
Sylvie and I grew up together as kids and after moving with Bean to another apartment complex, I left her behind; that is, until I came back from Ohio the first time with a broken heart. I had seen her at a bar. She was a warm body that happened to be the spitting image of Sadey. Her auburn hair and green eyes resembled a close second, but her insides were nothing in comparison.
Sylvie was wicked. After we were married, she threatened to make Bean and Sarah’s life hell if I didn’t swear to cut off all ties to Sadey. When she found out I was visiting Sadey in Ohio, she traveled all those miles in search to destroy what I was trying to build again.
Her malicious tendencies while making Sadey’s life hell got her killed. I don’t miss her and if that makes me an asshole, I’m willing to live up to the title ten times over.
Looking at Cherry in my bed, though, I see truth, innocence, and beauty. I watch her sleeping, breathing steadily, lost in dreams. Her scent consumes my room - the fresh and clean to my small existing life. She’s fuckin’ beautiful, fragile, but able to endure so much. She’s completely undeniable.
I take in a deep breath as I wonder if this was such a good idea.
Luckily, I’m exhausted. Forcing myself to let go of the tempting thoughts of Cherry, I drop off into a restful sleep.
“I don’t think she knows anything. If she did, she would’ve already given it up. No one could keep going like she is without breaking and sayin’ something. She hasn’t even offered a lie. I don’t think she knows shit about anything.” The laugh bounces in echo off the cement walls of this basement. “I fucked her up pretty hard, too.”
“Pump her, then. High as a fuckin’ kite. Warren needs the info, so break her.” The voice is familiar, but I can’t see who it is through the bloody blindfold.
My body aches; my head throbs, my ribs feel as though they’re pushing on my lungs, making it difficult to breathe and my wrists are tight and raw from the roped restraints. My hair feels heavy, likely from the blood that clings to it as it runs down and off my forehead and face.
Pictures were taken. I was told to smile and, as painful as it was, I did, fearing the consequence.
‘Please, let me go. I don’t know the answers to the questions you’re asking,’ I think to myself in the quiet of this terrified darkness.
I feel his hands on me again. I don’t know his name. I only know these men by their personal scents and demented voices. This one specifically is viler than the last.
Venomous. Evil. Soulless. Faceless. The Devil’s children walking the Earth.
“You’re a good girl aren’t you, Cherry? I’m about to give you something for the pain. Breathe in for me now.”
My breaths are ragged from being gagged. I don’t have a choice but to breathe through my nose and, as I do, I inhale a heavy dose of what he’s offering.
Moments later, he’s lying on top of my body again, driving his cock into me, pushi
ng through the tears and bruises he’s already caused.
I can’t do this… I can’t do this… I can’t breathe… please, just let me die.
Hearing a voice call my name, I try to focus on his familiar tone.
Ace…
“Fuck, Cherry! Wake up! Can you hear me?”
I’m being shaken. I’m not in that dungeon. I’m with Ace, safe in his room.
Oh, God, will they ever let me go?
Once I open my eyes, he stops screaming. I feel his finger trace my forehead and trail down my temple, a slow and careful gesture of compassion. He’s on top of me, pinning me down, waiting for me to say something. He’s offering me a moment to tell him I’m awake and admit it to him it was just another nightmare. Saddened, I admit only to myself that my life is a living nightmare and I’ll never wake from its strangled hold, only left to carefully maneuver around it during my waking hours, but submitting to its darkness in my sleep.
Ace doesn’t scare me. The weight of his body isn’t threatening. It’s protecting. I see his brown eyes, filled with remorse and concern, stare down at me in the moon’s light through the window shades.
My voice, terrified and shaking, asks, “Did I wake you?”
Continuing to rub my temple, he leans his face to my forehead and kisses it softly. Making his way to my cheek, he kisses that, too. “I hadn’t been sleeping long. You all right?”
I don’t say anything for a second, for fear if I tell him I’m okay he’d know I was lying. My eyes fill, not from the horror of my most recent visit back to Greyson, but from Ace’s genuine care and concern. “Will I ever forget them?”
Honesty.
If I can rely on anything from Ace, it’s always been that. “No, I don’t think it’s possible to forget, but eventually you’ll make other memories – good ones that will outlive the bad ones.”
I sigh, not believing he’s right. Spreading my thighs so he can rest his body between them, he adjusts himself carefully so he doesn’t scare me with his sleep-induced arousal. His forearms frame my head, and he uses them to hold his face and shoulders above mine.
