“I’m not in the mood, Gretchen. I told you I don’t need your fucking services. Go hit up Hollywood or Butch.” I pulled her arms off me, trying to walk away, but she grabbed my hand, placing it on her mound, clearly defined in her tight spandex boy shorts. She rubbed her fake tits on my arm as I jerked my hand from her crotch.
“Come on, Reaper, baby, I’ve missed you. You know it was good between us. No one has ever made me come like you do… Your cock is the only one that can satisfy me now. The rest of them are just bumbling boys compared to you in bed. Don’t make me go to bed alone and unsatisfied, baby.” She batted her brown eyes and flipped her bleached-blonde hair over her shoulder.
“Gretchen, there is no ‘us.’ There will never be an ‘us.’ I’ve tried to be nice, but you’re too fucking stupid to get it. Fuck. Off. Go blow someone else’s cock. I’m not your ‘baby’ and I’m not interested!” Stupid fucking bitch. Did I have to draw her a fucking picture? I jolted away and stomped off as she stood glaring daggers into my back, I’m sure. I didn’t give a flying fuck.
I entered my room, locking the door. This was my sanctuary and my home for the time being. I hung my cut over the back of the old office chair and sat on the bed to remove my boots. I tossed them over by the closet one at a time and hung my head, resting my elbows on my knees. I ran my hands through my hair. It still felt strange to have hair. I had grown it out after getting out of the Army because I was too fucking lazy and drunk to go get a haircut. After I hooked up with the club, I thought I would grow it out long, but I could never hack it getting longer than my hairline at the back of my neck. So I kept the sides and back buzzed short, and the center at the top was long and slicked back. I scratched my short beard. Time to trim this up. It was too fucking hot for a full beard in the summer, so I kept it clipped short and trimmed up, but I rarely shaved clean. Fucking Army made me do that for too long.
I flipped on my iPod, blaring STP’s “Creep.” Yeah, that was my song. It sucked to feel like you were half the man you used to be. I grabbed my hair on the top of my head in both fists, closing my eyes tight, trying to push the demons back.
As Shinedown’s “Cut the Cord” began to play, I ran both hands down my face and rose, padding barefoot to the bathroom to take a shower before bed. I loved that the clubhouse used to be a warehouse with this back area where the executive offices were located, so we each had a bathroom with a shower. One day I’d get a place of my own, but part of me was afraid to be alone. A lot of the reason was fear that the fucking memories would take over and I would start to slip away again. As long as there was enough to keep my mind and body busy, I could mostly forget.
I reached over my shoulders, grabbing my black tee shirt at the back and pulling it over my head. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and trailed a finger over the scar on the left side of my face before glancing at the scars on my torso and left arm that I had covered with tats. Most of them had healed well, and the one on my face was a thin, but jagged, white line now, though it was a constant reminder of all the fucking scars I carried both inside and out. A reminder of how damaged I really was.
THE NEXT WEEK WENT by pretty uneventful with Michael working late on a big project he had at work until Thursday. My phone pinged and I looked at it to see a message from him.
Michael: Hey babe, I just got home and I thought we could go grab dinner
Me: I’m already making something for myself and Remi, but thanks. Maybe tomorrow?
Michael: You got enough for a third?
I really didn’t want to spend time with him tonight. I was still a little upset with his behavior Friday night. I didn’t answer him right away; instead, I set my phone on the counter as I went to check on Remi in her room. She was busy playing with her Little People and stacking blocks around them. I could only imagine what she was building. Perhaps she pretended it was their castle. I smiled at her and turned back toward the kitchen. As I walked down the hall toward the kitchen, I heard my door open and turned to see Michael pulling a key out of the door. What. The. Ever. Living. Hell?
“You have a key to my apartment?” I asked in shock.
“What? Oh, you gave it to me weeks ago, remember?” Michael sauntered in, flipping his long bangs back out of his face as he tucked the key in his pocket. He reached where I stood frozen to the floor, wrapped his arm around me, and kissed me on the cheek. “You didn’t answer my last text, so I thought I would come down to see if everything was okay or if you needed help with anything.”
I knew damn well I hadn’t given him a key to my apartment. What I wanted to know was how he had gotten a copy of it. I didn’t want to ask him and risk starting an argument since Remi was playing nearby. I left it alone, making a mental note to speak to the manager about getting my apartment re-keyed. That pissed me off. He was beginning to make me very uncomfortable. Actually, truth be told, he was starting to scare me a little. He had gotten possessive and strange over the last few weeks. Even though neither of us had actually said we were “boyfriend and girlfriend,” it seemed we had just fallen into the assumption.
When I hollered for Remi to come up to the table, she came running to the kitchen, standing by the sink for me to lift her up to wash her hands. She played in the bubbles as I soaped up her hands and rinsed them clean. After several failed attempts at climbing up in her chair, I helped her up into her booster and then grabbed another plate, adding it to the two that I already had on the counter. Michael grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat at the table teasing Remi. The way he made himself at home made me grit my teeth as I dished up the plates.
After we finished eating, I took Remi in to bathe her without saying a word to Michael. I was trying to think of how I was going to break things off with him. Things were just getting too weird. I remained preoccupied as I bathed Remi, soaping up her hair and body as she played with her floating ducks and fish. Once she was rinsed clean, I drained the tub, pulling her out of the tub and wrapping a fluffy towel around her to dry her. As I fluffed her hair, she pushed the towel off her face, hollering “Mommy! Me no see!” with a frown on her face and bottom lip protruding. I gently flipped her lower lip with my finger, telling her not to pout like that or a chicken would poop on her lip. That made her giggle.
“Mommy! You say poop!” Remi continued giggling as I dressed her in her jammies.
Our bedtime routine was complete with a bedtime story, tucking my bugga-boo in, and kisses on her precious dimples. Taking a deep breath as I left her room, I quietly closed her door. I slowly walked out to the living room, shuffling my feet on the wood floor, to find Michael flipping through the channels while he sat on my sofa. He didn’t even look at me as he said, “You really need cable. There is nothing to watch.”
Really? Oh my gosh, he was pissing me off!
“Michael, I think we need to talk.” I sat on the edge of the couch and folded my hands in my lap. I was still not sure exactly what to say to him. I pressed my lips together and bit by lower lip. When I glanced up, he was looking at me in question with his brows raised.
“About?”
“About us.”
“What about us?” he asked slowly as he muted the TV and turned to face me on the couch.
“Well, we have never really discussed our relationship, and it just seems like things have evolved a little further in your mind than mine. I was thinking that maybe we needed to take a break from each other to think about what this is”—I motioned my hand back and forth between us—“and where it’s going.” I could feel sweat breaking out on my upper lip, and I saw his jaw clench.
“What the hell are you saying? Is this about that guy Reggie? Are you trying to ditch me so you can hook up with him instead? You sure haven’t had a problem holding out on me, but maybe you’ve been getting it from him, so you haven’t needed it from me.”
“What? What in the heck are you even talking about?” I asked in shock.
He stood and threw the TV remote against the brick wall, shattering it, then
turned to me. He stepped closer, pointing his finger in my face and yelling as I leaned back in the couch to get away from his finger.
“I’m tired of you acting like the born-again virgin with me while you laugh and flirt and act like a slut with those guys you work with! You think I haven’t seen it? You have Remi, so I know you aren’t a damn virgin! I have been patient with you. I have been a gentleman!” His eyes took on a demented look and spittle seemed to gather at the corners of his mouth. Then he reached down, grabbed my upper arms in a brutal hold, jerked me off the couch and shook me. I was terrified he was going to hurt me or, worse, wake Remi, bringing his suddenly insane attention to her. My heart was racing and I could feel my entire body shaking. Nausea welled up in me.
“Michael, you need to leave,” I said in a tone much more confident than I felt at that moment.
He let go of me, raising his hand like he was going to hit me, and I fought from flinching. No way would I let him see how he had affected me. He took that hand and clenched it in a fist. Then he took some deep breaths, seeming to pull himself together and regain his calm. He flared his nostrils and backed away from me.
“We’ll talk about this tomorrow night. You’re obviously tired and not thinking clearly. You need to go to bed. I’ll come by tomorrow when I get home. I’m sure you’ll be thinking with a clearer head by then, Steph.” He turned without another word and left my apartment. After I heard the door close on his apartment down the hall, I raced to the door, locking the safety hasp and the deadbolt. Of course, if he had a key, he could open the deadbolt too, but it gave me a false sense of security.
Jesus, I needed to get away from here. I leaned against the door, wracking my brain for what to do. Think, think, think… Yes. I was going home. Mom had been bugging me to come home anyway. I would call in sick tomorrow, and Remi and I would leave after I knew he was gone for work. That way I wouldn’t have to risk seeing him. I would call the management office in the morning and get my apartment re-keyed while I was gone too. Shaking, a nervous thought came to me and I raced over to the glass dish on my breakfast bar. The spare key I had kept in there was gone. He had gone through my things! I felt violated and sick as I replaced the glass lid with shaking hands, causing the glass to rattle.
I quietly went into Remi’s room, opened the closet, and took my suitcase down from the top shelf. Remi wiggled and rolled over in her sleep. I stood still until I heard her even breaths again. I pulled open drawers as quietly as I could, shoving Remi’s clothes in, then moved to the closet and pulled mine off the hangers and stuffed them in the suitcase. I rolled the suitcase to the bathroom, packing toiletries into the pockets until there was no more room. Fuck it, anything I forgot I could buy there. When I caught my reflection in the mirror, I saw a pale, frightened little girl staring back at me. Noticing the bruises already forming on my arms, I began to cry as I leaned over the sink, feeling ill.
What the hell had just happened to my happy, ordered life?
I washed my face with new resolve. I looked at my watch; it was almost 9:00 p.m. If I left immediately, I could make it home by about midnight. I knew I wouldn’t sleep anyway. Remi would sleep in the car, I prayed. I could call my mom after I got on the road to tell her we were on our way. Later I would think of something to tell her about what happened to bring me home in the middle of the night.
WHEN I CALLED MY mom to tell her we were coming, she was surprised but excited and said she would wait up for us. I told her she could just leave a light on and she didn’t need to wait up, but this was my mom we’re talking about. It was dark and the highways were mostly deserted this time of night. Remi was asleep in her car seat, and I snuck glimpses of her in the rearview mirror as I drove. I only had about forty miles before I hit Grantsville, then another three miles past town to the turnoff for my parents’ farm.
I was getting kind of sleepy and felt my eyes becoming heavy. I passed a bike going the opposite direction and I was alert again. The bike’s passing made my thoughts drift to the ride on Colton’s bike. Dammit! There he was, sneaking into my head again. Shit. Maybe I needed to see a counselor. Surely this was an unhealthy obsession. On the other hand, I did share a child with the man, whether he knew it or not. I gripped the steering wheel tighter as I remembered holding him close as we rode back to my place that night. I still remembered the cut of his six-pack as my fingers wandered along each indentation of muscle. The man was made for sex, and his body had been a sculpted masterpiece. I could lick his pecs, abs, and arms every day….
Ugh! Stop it, Steph! What the heck is wrong with you?
I saw the lights of G’ville come in to view. The restaurants and stores were all closed this time of night, but the feeling of home and the memories came flooding back. I remembered stopping at the Dairy Queen when my dad would pick me up after school on Fridays; it was the one day he wouldn’t make me ride the bus. There was the library and the downtown square where the Corn Festival was held every fall. The Catholic Church at one end of town and the Lutheran Church at the other—as if they had to maintain a separation of the two for fear of contamination. It always made me laugh a little. I hated to admit it, but I missed this small town, despite how I always swore I was going to get as far away from it as I could growing up.
Going through town went quicker than I realized, as I was lost in thought. Before I knew it, I was slowing down at the large oak set back a bit from the road right at the top of a small rise in the road. I turned into the packed gravel driveway and parked under the carport my dad had built years ago off the side of the old square two-story farmhouse. I shut my SUV off and sat listening to Remi’s soft breathing and the utter quiet out here. The stars seemed so bright and so much more abundant than in the bright lights of downtown Des Moines.
The floodlights came on at the corner of the house, and I saw my mom come out onto the front porch in her bathrobe. She rushed down the stairs and over to my SUV as I opened my door and got out. She hugged me and then leaned back, holding my shoulders.
“Let me look at you! My baby girl! Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you? And where is that beautiful granddaughter of mine?” She looked in the windows for Remi who must have sensed there was a major source of spoiling nearby and woke with her eyes popping wide and her mouth open in surprise. “There she is!” My mother squealed like a teenager and quickly opened the back door, unbuckling Remi and scooping her out of her seat in one smooth motion. Remi’s squeals mirrored my mother’s as she returned my mom’s hugs and clapped her hands in excitement for whatever unknown joys she was thinking of. So much for her going back to sleep.
Thanks, Mom.
“Come on inside. I’ll have your brother come out and get your bag. He stayed here waiting for you to arrive, but I think he dozed off watching TV.” She bustled up the steps, chattering away to Remi and Remi to her. I saw my younger brother, Sean, standing in the doorway with a big smile on his face.
“No, I’m not sleeping, Mother, but I figured I’d give you your moment with Steph and Remi.” He kissed Remi as my mother reached the doorway and snatched her from Mom. “Come see your Uncle Sean. You probably don’t even remember me since your momma is so stingy with you.” He winked at me, causing me to grin, and then Remi started babbling a hundred miles a minute to him like she knew exactly what she was saying and they had just seen each other yesterday. He patiently listened to her while nodding and responded with “oh really” before explaining he was going to give her back to her grandma so he could go get her things. He jumped down the stairs two at a time to go grab the suitcase from the back of my SUV.
“I’ll go put it in your old room. Mom has it waiting for you. Dad is sleeping since he needs to get up early in the morning, but he said he loves you and he’ll see you tomorrow.” My “little brother,” who was a good head taller than me, looked the spitting image of our father with his dark brown, close-cropped hair, hazel eyes, and ready smile. He gave me a big hug and then headed up the stairs with my suitcase. I gla
nced into the living room and saw it looked exactly as it did when I left—cozy and inviting but spotless like a room out of a Better Homes & Gardens ad. My mom was always a meticulous housekeeper, even when we were kids and sabotaging her efforts at every turn. I followed my mom’s voice down the hall from the entryway into the kitchen where she had Remi sitting at the table helping her eat some homemade banana bread and drinking some milk.
“Mother! You are spoiling her already! She needs to get back to bed.” I rolled my eyes as my mother had the nerve to look contrite. I laughed before kissing my mom’s cheek and telling her I was going to run up and get ready for bed while she spoiled her granddaughter. She chuckled and told me she would bring her up shortly.
My feet dragged as I tiredly trudged up the stairs and into the third room on the left closest to the bathroom. As a teen, I had raised a fuss arguing that as a girl it was important for me to have the bedroom closest to the bathroom. Looking back, it wasn’t much of an argument, so I could only assume my brothers really didn’t care which rooms they had. I laughed to myself, shaking my head at the memory.
My room was much as I had left it when I went to college, with the exception of the posters all having been taken down and replaced with some of my mom’s amazing cross stitch, which my dad had framed for her. My double canopy bed still had the quilt on it that I made with my grandma the summer after 8th grade. The squares were a little crooked, but every single one was made up of her old clothes and sewed with love by me, with my grandmother’s guidance. The walls were now a soft yellow instead of the pale pink of my youth.
I went to my suitcase resting in the corner of the room and pulled out some sweats and a tee to sleep in. After getting changed, I looked around once more.
I shouldn’t have stayed away so long. It was good to be home, but I couldn’t escape the irony that I ran to the one place I had run from.
Colton's Salvation: A Demented Sons MC Novel Page 9
