Reclaim Me

by A. O. Peart

  “I’ve been thinking about that more than ever today. I’m seeing a certain parallel in both of the incidents,” I said quietly.

  Rita’s eyes widened and she blinked. “How is that?”

  “I’m just like my mom—I trust that people are good, in general. To her—and to me too—everyone has some good in them, no matter who they are and what they’ve done in their lives. So, we both got into relationships with men who, on the surface, cared for us and loved us, but then started to show their true colors. See what I mean?”

  She nodded slowly, considering my words. “Many daughters act the way their mothers have, especially when they’re raised by a single mother. But sweetie, I hope you don’t still think this was your fault—with Seth or with your mom’s boyfriend. Do you?”

  I shrugged and gave my head a tiny shake. “I didn’t think either was my fault. Well, at least not since I went through months of therapy. When I was a kid, that guy made me believe all kinds of idiocies. He managed to convince me it was my own fault, simply to ensure I wouldn’t tell anyone what he was doing to me. He knew good and well that I would be ashamed to mention the ordeal. Besides, his prediction must’ve been that I would think everyone would blame me and not him. So that’s why I didn’t tell anybody for a long time.”

  “Typical abuser’s way.” Rita clenched her teeth. “I wanna know if he’s still in prison. I want to make sure he will never get the fuck out of there.”

  “He got a long sentence, so I’m sure he’s still there. But Mom never tries to approach the subject, and I don’t ask, since I know how much pain those memories cause her.” I stood up and, crossing my arms over my chest, started pacing in the tiny bedroom, careful not to bump into any furniture crammed in there. “I just don’t know what to do or what to think anymore. I feel lost and stupid.”

  “Hey, you’re not stupid. Why would you even think that?” Rita sat up straight. “Okay, wait. Let’s think about this for a moment. I have a feeling that, deep inside, you suspected what Seth is capable of. But because of your strong beliefs in the goodness of human nature, you fought those thoughts, pushing them away. Am I right?”

  I stopped pacing and stood, hugging myself. I felt my brows pulled close together by my rigid forehead muscles. I couldn’t relax them. My hand flew to the spot between my eyebrows, and I pressed two fingers there, trying to lessen the tension. It was no use.

  “You don’t agree?” Rita asked again.

  My head snapped up. Rita sat in bed with her wine glass empty. She was looking at me expectantly.

  “Sorry, I have a hard time concentrating. But yes, what you said makes a lot of sense.” This was, mildly speaking, a totally mediocre answer, so I tried once more, “Seth has a very short fuse. I probably thought he might learn to calm himself down if I give him some guidance, which I freely offered, over and over again. It was hard, however. He never tried to stop and think, first. He just reacted—mostly in violent outbursts. But then he would come back to his senses and apologize. He would beg me to forgive him and promise to work on his temper. There were flowers and hugs and warms baths drawn just for me. He would even sprinkle rose petals in them. And I believed him. Or, at least, I desperately tried to believe him.” I exhaled with force and closed my eyes.

  “You’re still blaming yourself, Willow. I bet you’re thinking that you should’ve had more patience, been more understanding. But guess what, girlfriend?”

  I looked at her, startled at the sudden change in her tone which now became resolute and almost tetchy.

  Rita propped her hands on her hips and in even more pronounced drawl than normal continued, “He ain’t worth a thing, honey. Rose petals and shit like that is nice, but it ain’t enough. And even if he were worth something, you’ve done your part and then some. Move on. Trust me, move on. There are men out there who’ll be good to you and treat you with respect, just the way you deserve. So, snap outta that guilty funk, you hear me?”

  I couldn’t help but smile. She was a character—a smooth-talking, fierce redhead, who knew how to put anyone in their place. She gave a curt nod, as if to punctuate her statement.

  I sighed and sat down on the bed, swinging my legs onto it. I leaned back on my outstretched arms, palms flat on the bed. “I’m so relieved you offered for me to stay here. I couldn’t go to my mom. Seeing me like this would kill her.”

  “You can stay as long as you want.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, we’ll see what you’re gonna say tomorrow morning, after suffering from me kicking you in my sleep and snoring.”

  “Hey, I never said I don’t kick in my sleep or snore myself.” She laughed.

  “Jack offered me his place, too,” I said, pressing my lips into a thin line. I wasn’t sure how I felt about telling Rita, but I wanted her to know. She needed to know. Besides, I wanted to hear what she thought about it. Not that I was deliberating Jack’s offer, at least not anytime soon.

  “Oh?” Her eyes opened wide, and she raised an expressive eye brow. “That’s interesting, taking into consideration your past together.”

  “I … I didn’t accept. Actually, after he offered, he also said to think about it. He didn’t pressure me or anything. I just thought it was rather thoughtful of him.” I squirmed a little, my fingers twisting and untwisting the bed sheet.

  Rita tilted her head to the side. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to talk you into anything. I just want to tell you that Jack’s a good guy. I’ve known him, and his cousin Nash, for a few years, ever since I moved here from Charleston, and I trust both of them. I even had a short fling with his other cousin, Ethan, but that didn’t last. Oh, well. No hard feelings between us, he’s a great guy, too. Anyway, I’m not sure how exactly your relationship with Jack was back in high school, but that was a long time ago, so maybe things are not the same. Although, you mentioned that he was your rock back then. From what I see, he still might be that rock, if you let him. Just sayin’.”

  My shoulders slumped. I didn’t know what to think. Jumping to conclusions wasn’t what I normally did.

  “Hey, don’t fret. You’ll figure this out. Like I said, stay with me as long as you want. I won’t be around much in the evenings though, since this week I’ll work every night, but I’ll be here most of the mornings,” Rita said. She stretched her arms above her head and yawned widely. “I’m beat. Gonna just brush my teeth and hit the sack. You need to sleep too, sweetie.”

  “Good idea. I’ll do the same, after you’re done with the bathroom.”

  Rita brought her long legs down over the edge of the bed and turned to look at me. “Don’t overthink stuff. Not tonight. Sleep. Tomorrow will be a better day for decision making.”

  And there it was again—my curse: decision making. But no matter how much I tried to avoid thinking about my options, one had to be made. There was no other way.

  Chapter Seven

  I called Willow after nine a.m., expecting that she took a day off from work and actually slept in. She didn’t pick up, so maybe she was asleep. I called Rita to see if everything was okay. She didn’t pick up either. I left her a voicemail. She got back to me immediately and said they were at the District Attorney’s Victim’s Assistance Office, filing a criminal complaint against Seth and a restraining order, too. She said Willow wanted to do it right away and even mentioned I recommended that she do so. Interesting. She really followed my advice? That made me feel better, although I was far from becoming confident about what Willow thought about me.

  Cora needed to be seen by the vet, since her eye didn’t look any better this morning than it did last night after the raccoon’s attack. Fortunately, I was able to get her a morning appointment. I texted Rita and asked when and where I can meet up with Willow and her.

  LUNCH AT VITO’S TO GO. WILLOW WANTS TO WAIT OUTSIDE. I’LL GO IN AND GET IT, Rita texted back.

  Vito’s was a tiny Italian restaurant downtown on Main Street. It was a walking distance from the Multnomah County Courthouse. It offered g
reat food and equally great service. I knew Vito, the owner, and his two sons, Marcello and Gianni, who belonged to the Hell Ravens MC—both known as Italians or the Meatball Devils.

  LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU TWO WANT TO EAT. I’LL GET IT, I responded to Rita’s text. I wanted to see Willow, and lunch was a great excuse. It was understandable that she didn’t want to go inside the restaurant, since her face was badly injured. She would only attract attention—the last thing anyone in her situation wanted.

  My phone chimed, and the text displayed on the screen, SURE! 2x BUTTERNUT SQUASH AND CHICKEN RAVIOLIS AND 2 COKES. NOT THAT DIET SHIT THO.

  “You got it.” I smiled, saying that out loud to myself and then shouted, “Cora! Come here, baby girl. Come on!”

  She ran toward me, her tongue lolling from between her teeth.

  “Go get the leash.”

  Cora turned around, wagged her tale like a maniac, and padded toward the end of the hallway where her leash dangled from one of the coatrack hooks. She tugged on it, and the leash fell on top of her head. Cora growled and shook the leash, still holding it between her teeth.

  “You silly pup. Bring it here.” I smacked my thigh two times, indicating I wanted her to come to me fast.

  She complied, her tail wildly flapping in excitement from side to side. I took the leash from her but didn’t clip it onto her collar. Instead, I scratched her behind her ears with both hands and then kneeled down on one knee to take another look at the abrasion over her eye. It was red and swollen. She whined softly, realizing that I was examining her injury.

  “Yeah, yeah, such a sucker for attention.” I grinned at her and kissed her forehead.

  Cora happily pounced on me, catching me off guard. I lost my balance and fell backward onto the floor with the silly dog tumbling over me.

  “Whoa!” I laughed under Cora’s affectionate licking and happy barking.

  She was a big dog, but still a young puppy at heart. Her large paws pinned me down, and all I could see was her overjoyed face, a toothy grin, and her huge tongue, bathing me.

  “Okay … stop, you crazy dog … stop.” I was laughing and semi-fighting her off. It was hilarious, and she knew it.

  Finally, I managed to wrestle her off me at which she growled deep in her throat, pretending to be offended and angry. I knew better—she was in her playful mood.

  I grabbed her head in both hands and shook it from side to side. She tried to growl some more, but because she was already grinning at me, the sound came out hilariously modulated. In one quick movement, I wrapped my arms around Cora, shifted my weight, and pinned her to the floor. She tried to nip at me with her sharp canines. I knew it was all for show, since she would never hurt me.

  “Got ya. Taste of your own medicine. How do you like that?” I puffed, breaking a sweat. Cora was a big, strong animal, and wrestling her was no small feat.

  I realized we must’ve look very funny, play-brawling on the floor—a big, muscular human and a large, strong, guard dog. I chuckled at that vision, and huffed, “Are we done playing silly girl?”

  She snorted, and that made me laugh. She knew how to make this a real fun.

  “I meant playing here. Let’s go outside. Maybe after seeing the vet and lunch with the girls, I can take you to a park. What do you say?” I released her and quickly stood up.

  Her grin was back, and the tail whipping from side to side continued.

  “That’s what I thought. Let’s go then.” I put my jacket on and motioned with my head to the garage door.

  As soon as I opened the truck, Cora hopped inside and contentedly nestled herself in the back seat, where her special blanket was spread for her comfort.

  I opened the garage door with one press of a button on the remote-controlled opener, and started the truck. The engine rumbled to life, its low, powerful sound reverberating in the small space.

  It was a gray, cloudy day. At least it wasn’t raining. One of my neighbors, Mrs. Boshton, was walking her dog—a tiny, cute Pomeranian. I waved to her and she did the same. Cora uttered a short bark from the back seat.

  “Was that a ‘hello’ or some nasty remark about that dog’s size?” I asked, looking in the rearview mirror at her.

  She turned her face to me, giving me a blank look. I knew exactly what that meant—Cora was being a smart ass and pretended not to know what the hell I meant. That little bark was indeed some snarky comment in dog’s language.

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re such a little bully.” That was a joke. She would never hurt another animal, unless in self-defense. But she was a sassy girl, and I loved it. She made a great companion for a guy like me.

  I was a loner, although lately I was realizing more and more often that I simply didn’t want to settle on just anyone. What I wanted was to be with a special woman. I wanted to wake up every morning, holding her in my arms; I longed for sex, but not just sex—that I could get with minimal effort on my part. What I yearned for was that one extraordinary woman, who would not only fill the void, but, most importantly, turn my world inside out. I needed her to stay and never leave me, to accept me for who I was. But at the same time, I knew I would do whatever it took to make her happy and satisfied. I wanted Willow.

  The -early rush hour was over by now, and I was relieved not to have to fight the traffic. Driving late in the morning was great. I was off for forty-eight hours before I had to clock back in at Firehouse 8. My cell phone played some catchy tune, announcing an arrival of a call. I looked at the screen. It was my cousin Nash.

  “Hey, Nash. What’s up?” I answered.

  “Hey, bro. Listen, this Saturday night the Club is throwing a little party for Elenah’s birthday. Do you wanna come? I’m sure she would appreciate if you showed your ugly mug in there.”

  I snorted at his comment. Elenah was a good friend of mine, and Vito’s son, Gianni’s old lady. “I might as well. But I’ll let you know closer to Saturday. Is that okay?”

  “Yeah, no sweat.”

  “Are you still in Seattle?” I asked.

  “On my way back. Just stopped to get some gas and to call you. Are you off today?” He raised his voice over a motorcycle engine rumbling in the background—probably one of the Hell Ravens members that went to the Seattle meeting with him.

  “Yep. Today and tomorrow. Okay, bro. I’m driving, so I better get off the phone before a cop sees me and decides I need to part with a couple hundred dollars.”

  He laughed. “Sure thing. I’ll see you soon.”

  “I’m sure you will.” The call ended, and I threw the phone onto the passenger seat, turning my head to check on Cora.

  She was watching me from under the half-closed lids, her tail whipping the back of the seat from time to time, almost as an afterthought.

  “We’ll be there soon, girl,” I said.

  Cora grunted and closed her eyes.

  “Don’t fall asleep. You can do that later.”

  She often snoozed during the car rides, but we were just minutes away from the vet’s office, and I didn’t want her grumpy, which she would be if she fell asleep. She was so much like me. That thought made me chuckle.

  A large, black SUV swerved in front of me, cutting me off. I hit the break and swore. “Fucking asshole!” That was close—I almost collided with that vehicle. That made me really mad. The SUV accelerated, and I stomped on the gas pedal, giving chase. “Son of a bitch!”

  Cora barked a few times. I wasn’t sure if it was in agreement or if she was telling me to slow down. It didn’t matter. I would get that fucking piece of shit and pound some sense into him. Cora kept barking.

  “Be quiet. What the hell is wrong with you? Didn’t you see how this asshole cut me off? Someone needs to teach him a lesson.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I eased the pressure off of the gas pedal. I wasn’t the guy who never missed an opportunity to get into a fight anymore. That was my past, and I wasn’t letting it back into the present.

  Cora whined quietly, her muzzle snuggling back into her
crossed paws.

  I exhaled loudly and said, “I’m sorry, girl. I’m sorry.” I shook my head. What the fuck was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I just control my temper? Well, I did after a few moments, but that eruption of anger shouldn’t have happened.

  I thought about Willow’s bruised face and her puffy eyes, red from crying. That’s what violent outbursts did—people got hurt, while the ordeal could’ve been either completely avoided or approached—and often resolved—in a more peaceful way. I knew it wasn’t easy, especially for someone like me who dealt with the uncontrollable surges of fury in the past. But I had to remember to keep on top of it. I had to—for my own and for Willow’s sake.

  Chapter Eight

  “Where is he meeting us?” I asked Rita. “At your place?”

  We walked to her car parked two blocks away from the District Attorney’s office. It was after eleven a.m.

  “Yeah. He’ll get lunch from Vito’s down the street and drive to my apartment.” She zipped up her jacket and shivered. “Damn, it’s cold. Are you cold?”

  “No, not really.” I shrugged, shaking my head while keeping my face down. I didn’t want the passersby to notice the bruises and swelling. It was hard to keep them hidden under my hair, but I felt more comfortable with even partial cover.

  Rita rubbed my back in silent compassion. “Let’s get some coffee.”

  Although I desperately wanted to get off of the street and hide first in Rita’s car and then in her apartment, a steamy-hot, freshly brewed coffee sounded wonderful. “Okay, but I want to wait outside.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but stopped herself. “Sure. I’ll hurry,” Rita assured me. “Do you want a latte? Mocha?”

  “Just a regular brewed coffee with cream. That size.” I indicated with my hands.

  “That would be a grande.” Rita grinned. “Coming right up. Look.” She pointed to a nearby Starbucks and then across the street, “Vito’s is right there. Jack’s getting us some yummy lunch right after he takes Cora to the vet.”