Ace's Redemption

by A. C. Bextor

  My voice breaks again with a confession. “I want to forget. I’m so tired of being their victim.”

  “They’re dead, Cherry. You’re nobody’s victim anymore.”

  Greyson and Warren are dead. Vinnie and Marcus are not.

  “They’re alive in my dreams, Ace. How do I get rid of them? Even in my own subconscious, I’m not strong enough to kill them.” Letting me succumb to tears, Ace falls to the side and takes me with him.

  Wrapping his arm around me and pulling my body onto his, he puts my head on his chest and uses his fingers to stroke my face, coaxing me into a relaxed state. His heartbeat against my ear gives me something to count, a way of distraction. My tears are falling on his chest. Every tenth beat, I measure, I let another one fall.

  Finally, after several minutes pass and I think he’s fallen asleep, Ace starts to hum. The song is familiar, but I can’t place its words. It’s soothing and not long after, I feel myself relax in his hold.

  In a tone I already know not to attempt to debate, Ace gives his instruction. “You’re in here from now on. Every night, Cherry. Don’t argue the reasoning; you already know the why.”

  “You knew I was having nightmares?”

  Hesitantly, he hands me the truth. “Yes. I heard you out there sometimes. I never knew if I should wake you or let you fight your way through it. They didn’t last long and it wasn’t every night, but I heard you.” Bending his neck, he kisses the crown of my head softly. “No one will hurt you here. I want you to believe that.”

  “I do.”

  THIS FUCKIN’ DAY is draggin’, inching past minute by minute. Travis picked Cherry up five and a half hours ago. My text messages are going unanswered, my calls are being ignored and I’ve decided that if someone doesn’t get back to me within the hour, I’m going out on my own to find them. She’s not safe wandering the streets of this city with only Travis there to watch for her. She’s safe here, in this apartment, with me.

  Cherry appeared rested this morning after she finally woke up. Last night, she slept soundly in my arms and didn’t once move; she didn’t even flinch. I didn’t sleep, although tempted by the steady rhythm of her breath on my chest. I fought against it, enjoying just being able to hold her and being satisfied to watch her rest contently for one night.

  When Travis got here to pick her up this afternoon, she looked happy; so much so, she may as well have been fucking glowing. She gazed at him with a recognition I hated. The look on his face was parallel to hers. He’s said more words in her presence in the last fuckin’ two days than he’s said to Hayden, Toby, and me in a fuckin’ month, and we’re his best friends. It’s as if even their spirits hold conversations between them and those of us that are less damaged are left without any way to comprehend what’s being said.

  Travis claims he has no romantic or sexual interest in Cherry, but how could he not? How could anyone not? She’s beautiful, resilient, caring, brave, and she carries with her an unbreakable soul that makes a man want to worship, protect, and cherish it.

  Fuck, I’m going crazy thinking through the list of absolute reasons any man would want to make her his.

  “Ace, honey, what is it you’re waiting for?”

  Bean’s home today, all day. I’ve dodged her frequently and intentionally since I brought Cherry home. Bean has been adamant about my feelings for Sadey not being love, but being something else. I’ve ignored her attempts to explain to me what it is she thinks I feel. I love Bean, whole-heartedly adore the woman, but telling her how I “feel” about any woman makes me sweat and shift with an uncomfortable ease. There are some things men just do not talk to their grandmothers about. Sex and love… number one and two.

  Rolling my eyes, I sigh and ask, knowing it’s what she wants; she’s prodding me. “What are you talking about, Bean?”

  “You’re wearing a hole in that carpet with the constant pacing on that floor. Your girl will be home soon enough.”

  “I’m not pacing, and she’ll be home when Travis brings her home. And don’t call her my girl.” I’m so full of shit, but continue anyway. I need her to back off. “The boys are busy today, so I’m here spending the day with you.”

  Right. Toby and Hayden were livid when I cancelled today’s practice. That was my friends’ attempt to keep me occupied because they knew I was dreading this. I didn’t fall for their bullshit, and Hayden voiced his opinion briefly this morning on the phone before I disconnected the call.

  “You are. Ace, you know, I may be old and my opinion may not be worth anything to you, but I make for a good listener.”

  “Bean, stop. No.”

  “I am. I used to listen to your heartbreak over those characters. Who were they again?” Answering her own question, she finishes, “The Power Rangers. Was that what they were?”

  “This isn’t about cartoons, Bean.” God, the woman forgets nothing.

  “I used to listen to your anger regarding Sylvie, too. Remember?”

  A bad taste in my mouth develops remembering the name of my dead wife. “This isn’t about Sylvie, either.”

  “And Sadey…”

  I’ve had enough. I’m already on edge, and my sweet grandma won’t stop picking. “Fuck, Bean, what do you want from me?”

  “I want you to be honest with me.”

  “No, you really don’t.” I say this while standing up from the couch and moving toward the window at its right side. I’m looking out into a city that Cherry’s walking around in, leaving me home in this apartment fearing for her safety.

  “Tell me, Mark. Tell me what you’re feeling. You’ve not been the same since you came home.”

  The sound of my name, my father’s name, coming from Bean triggers me. My anger releases before I have time to reel it back. I turn, looking at my grandmother, who I love dearly, as she leans her small body against the bar waiting for my confession. “Honest? Fine. Here’s honest: I miss Sadey, Bean. I see her in everything. After all this time, she’s still everywhere and I can’t get rid of her. I’ve tried, but I can’t. I want to call her, but stop myself knowin’ she doesn’t want to hear from me. I want to hate her but can’t because she’s given me no reason. It would hurt less if she were dead.”

  “Is that what you want? Do you want for Sadey to be dead?”

  “No.”

  Bean doesn’t sway at my harsh words. She doesn’t move or adjust her facial expression at all; she just asks for more. “Well? There’s more to it, then. What is it?”

  Turing back to the window, I know the words she’s asking me to confess to her out loud. My angry voice falters in saying it. “Cherry. You’re asking me to define my feelings for her, aren’t you?”

  “I am.”

  Looking out at the city’s people, walking among the tall buildings and crowds, I think about my answer before saying it out loud in front of another person. I’m safe here with her and know that whatever I confess stays here, but my feelings for Cherry can’t yet be put into words because I’m still not sure of them. “I like her, of course I do. I care what happens to her, I want to help her heal and be a better person. I’m not in love with her, though.”

  Bean stays quiet, her way of silently asking for me to continue.

  Looking to the ground, I offer my last thought, shutting my eyes and hoping Bean accepts it as the finality I need her to. “She deserves better than me. Cherry deserves freedom from the ghosts of the past, Bean. Sadey is just as much of a ghost as the rest of those she’s battling. I don’t know that I would want her to risk anything for me, feelings of friendship or otherwise.”

  Neither of us says anything for a few minutes. My feet start to ache from standing so long in one place, and the muscles of my back hurt from holding my posture stiff. My head is swimming after telling another person out loud that the reason I’m not with Cherry is because, even after everything that’s happened to her, I’m not ready to be with her or anyone else. Until I can let Sadey go, I won’t be able to love anyone else.

  My gra
ndmother doesn’t say anything more in way of wisdom. I hear her get up from the stool and listen as her feet drag on the carpet as she makes her way to her room. It’s the only way for me to know she’s given up.

  Minutes pass. I haven’t moved.

  Bean comes out of her room, now dressed to go out on the town. “Mary is taking me to play bridge again. I’m meeting her at her place next door. Sarah’s with her friends at the mall; she’ll be back by dark.”

  “Have fun.” It’s all I can muster since I’m so weak with shame and embarrassment that I don’t turn around to face her.

  I hear the door open and before Bean walks through it, she stops. “You’re worthy, Ace. No man that isn’t would’ve brought that broken girl into his home. She’s already so much better than she was. She’s going to get that boy of hers back soon. Don’t let her walk away from you without her knowing that you feel something, even if you don’t know what that is yet. Regret is a ghost you’ll never let go of. Sadey’s gone, and you can’t change what never was.” Then I hear the door’s handle click. Finally, Bean’s left me.

  “THANK YOU FOR today; that was probably the most fun I’ve had in months. Definitely the most fun I’ve had since Ace brought me here.” It’s true. I haven’t stopped smiling since we left the house this afternoon.

  “Told you there were things to see in this city.” He’s smiling, too. His dimples are deep, and his laugh lines protrude from the sides of his goatee. “Neil Diamond, though? Can’t say I saw that comin’. I pictured you more of a heavy metal rocker type of girl.”

  “What’s wrong with Neil Diamond? He’s a classic.”

  “He’s old, Raegan. Not classic.”

  “Whatever. You know you’ll be singing Forever in Blue Jeans the rest of the night. You don’t even have to tell me, I’ll just know you will.”

  Planting his forehead on the steering wheel, feigning annoyance, he hits the eject button on the CD player and hands me my new CD, purchased courtesy of him. He’s lying that he doesn’t find Neil the least bit talented. “Get outta my Jeep. I’m sure Ace is waiting for his girl to get home.”

  My smile fades, and I don’t try to hide it. I had such a good day today. I don’t want it stained with thoughts of Ace’s overprotective and cold attitude toward me being out today with Travis or anyone.

  “Ah, don’t look like that. Ace just worries, that’s all. If he’s not pissed off at the world, he’s worrying about you. He’s expanding his anxiety at least, right?” he says while touching my cheek with his palm, letting me lean into it for platonic support.

  Smiling softly and without sincerity, I open the door and get out of the Jeep. Turning around from heading toward the stairs, I look back when Travis calls my name through the passenger side window.

  Once looking at him, he lowers his radio and then I hear him sing, without music, the words to Forever in Blue Jeans by the great Neil Diamond.

  Old, my ass. Classic is what he is.

  One thing I’ve learned today is that it’s a good thing Trav’s hell on the keyboard, ‘cause he can’t carry a tune to save his life.

  Travis and I went to the wax museum as he promised. Then shopping, lunch, and a walk in a park downtown. We talked about nothing of importance, but talking to someone other than those I live with felt rejuvenating. I did find out that he likes country music, though. No one would have convinced me of this if he hadn’t admitted it himself.

  He misses his dad. After a brief run-down on what happened, he confessed that he hasn’t felt anything but alone since he died; they were close. His dad was blue-collar and they never had much money, but he always supported Travis in anything he tried to do.

  Travis also told me he works as a mechanic full-time because the gig at The Ward “doesn’t pay shit” and although he enjoys it, he adamantly refuses to ever being in the band full-time “again”.

  When I prodded for more information on what the word “again” meant, he cut me off, telling me I would have to ask Ace. Right. Ace won’t tell me anything unless it has to do with me; how to dress, how to wear my hair, how to stay safe, when to be home. He’s tight-lipped about his past and the only new thing I’ve learned about him since leaving Peril is that Ace apparently knows how to play guitar. It’s something, at least.

  Walking in the apartment, I immediately sense its stillness. The sun is fading and the room has been left without lights. I don’t see or hear Bean or Sarah and Ace said he’d be here when I got home.

  Setting down the bags from shopping and taking off my shoes, placing them by the door, I turn around and run smack into Ace’s chest while releasing a small scream. As he looks down at me, I note that he doesn’t look happy.

  “Six hours, Cherry?” His voice is strained, his face is hard, and his jaw is ticking mercilessly.

  “You’ve been counting?”

  His voice is still strained but quickly gathering force. “Answer me. You’ve been at the wax museum for six fuckin’ hours?”

  “Well, no, not exactly. Travis and I went to lunch, shopping, and...” Wait. I’m explaining things I shouldn’t have to. He agreed I needed the break, knew who I was with, and agreed to me going. “Do you really need a play-by-play of our day together?”

  Hands to hips, his voice is full of contempt. “Did he kiss you?”

  Hands braced to my sides, my voice is full of shock. “What? No, he didn’t kiss me! What are you…”

  He cuts me off, not letting me question his question, but accusation is evident in his tone. “Cherry?”

  Running my hands through my wind-blown hair and sighing, I make an effort to calm him. “Ace, I’m not your prisoner, and you’re not my warden. You would’ve had to figure out that sooner or later I’d need to make new friends.”

  “Yeah, but not Travis kind of friends.”

  “What does that mean? He’s your friend. Did you think we were stashed up in a sleazy motel room all day havin’ at each other like rabbits?”

  Whoa. Wrong thing to say.

  Putting his hand between us, his phone resting in his large palm - he uses it as prop - but avoids answering my question. His voice gets louder as he inches toward my face. “You should have answered your fuckin’ phone, goddamn it. I was worried sick.”

  “You thought I was fucking him.” I make it a statement, unsure if I’m talking to myself or him.

  “No, I didn’t say that.” He may deny it, but the thought crossed his mind; apparently, several times throughout the day. I see it in his eyes - they give me truth he can’t hide.

  Putting my head down, I look to my hands that are left twisting in front of me. “Ace, I’m not a club slut; that’s not who or what I’ve always been. I miss my friends and you’re so mad all the time. Sarah is fourteen and Bean is your grandmother. I need someone my own age to hang out with. Trav’s nice and I like him.”

  Visibly relaxing, he runs his fingers through his hair, resting the palms of his hands on top of his head and lacing his fingers together as he holds the pose. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just…I worried, that’s all. You didn’t answer your phone.”

  He’s not hearing me. I was with Travis, safe and secure. Raising my voice in frustration, I answer his concern. “I didn’t answer my phone because you would have just kept calling! You agreed to this. You told Travis and me both it was okay, so why call me every thirty minutes and send text messages between those calls?”

  His face saddens, realizing I didn’t just incidentally forget to answer. I knowingly ignored his every attempt to reach me. I can’t let myself feel bad about this.

  “Ace, what are you gonna do when I start dating?”

  His eyebrows lift in question. “Dating?”

  “Yeah, two people… dinner… movies… it happens, ya know.” Just not for me.

  “I’ll take you to the fuckin’ movies, Cherry. If that’s what’s you want. Dinner, too, if you’re so goddamn insistent that you need all that shit.”

  He’s appeasing me and it almost hurt
s. “Ace, I need a life.” You won’t share yours with me.

  Turning around, giving me his back, he takes his boots off with one thud, then another, throwing them on the linoleum floor at the doors entrance. “I’m just trying to…”

  No longer having his eyes bore into me or having to fear the face that’s so angry all the time, I momentarily lose my temper. It’s rare that I do, but at times when I feel safe enough, I let it go. I finish his thought for him. “To protect me! You’re trying to protect me! All the time, as if that’s the only purpose you have. I get it, I do, but I’m not yours to protect. Give yourself a rest, Ace. Let someone else take the load off for a while.”

  Whipping his head around first, his body immediately follows. He stalks toward me and, it has to be said, when Ace stalks, his large frame comes at you and he stalks. He’s angry.

  Putting my hand out to stop him from coming any closer, he runs his chest into it. “Ace, I don’t want to sound ungrateful…”

  “Know what I did all day today? Do you have any fuckin’ idea the day I had today, worrying, waiting, wondering? I thought, for six fucking hours, of ways to protect you. How I could keep you safe from all the Greysons, Vinnies, and bar idiots of this world. You have me going nuts here. Last night, Cherry…” His voice changes octaves, anger to concern, “you were so scared and I was helpless to save you from those nightmares. Nightmares that those kinds of men caused you.”

  I don’t say anything; he’s calming down, and anything I may say to try to make this easier for him could upset him further.

  Before I can think of anything to add, he shocks me with his statement. “Sadey’s gone.”

  Since I don’t know where this is coming from, I stand still in front of him, looking up. His eyes are glassy; evidently, he’s thought about a lot today while I was gone.

  “I can’t have her. I never could.”

  His hand reaches out to touch my neck, his fingertips tracing the dip at the bottom of my throat. Finally, a small tear releases from his eye and drops down his face, quickly falling to his shirt.