Glimmer

by Ashley Munoz

  I was begging him, shamelessly begging, but I didn’t care. After last night, I needed him in my life. I was done with this space and distance between us.

  I heard him breathing in and out of his nose, slowly, before he answered, “If you’ll have me, then that’s where I'll be. That’s all I want, Ramsey… I’m so sorry about what we last texted about. I didn’t hear from you, so I know it upset you.”

  I shook my head back and forth at his admission, because that couldn’t even be an issue between us anymore. “No, Jimmy, don’t. I mean…yeah, I struggled, and I’m sorry that I did, we weren’t even…”

  He hugged me tighter and cut me off. “Yes, we were together. In my heart, we were, we still are. But nothing happened, I swear. I wasn’t that out of it. If someone would have woke me up, I would have known what was going on.”

  I tried to clear my throat but failed as it clogged with my own admission. “I can’t even be angry now. After last night, after what I did… I don’t even know what I did…” I said through a stream of tears. The shame was worse than the physical aches and pains that I had, something I realized I should remedy sooner rather than later.

  Jimmy was running his hand down the length of my hair, stroking it, then he said in my ear, “Let’s forget about last night. I mean, I want to talk it through with you and know what made you want to go that far, but I don’t want you to hang on to anything that you don’t need to.”

  I nodded into his chest and then pushed back away from him. “I want to tell you, I just need some water, and a shower. Maybe some food, and a toothbrush first,” I said, wiping at my face and trying to untangle my hair with my fingers.

  Jimmy started to stand and held his hand out to me. “Yeah, of course, sorry. I should have thought of that first.”

  I took his hand and tried to stand, but I was alarmed at how sore I was. I tried to think of why I was so sore, was it just from just laying down for an entire day? Then I thought of all the dancing. That thought made me wince.

  Jimmy turned away from me and grabbed a small black bag and then handed it to me. I peeked inside and saw my clothes and toiletries. Hallelujah! I have never been as happy at seeing my own face wash as I was right then. He turned to open the door and led me to the third door down the hall, walked in, and turned the light on. It was sweet, I could tell he didn’t want to be away from me. Once he realized that he was still standing in the bathroom with me, and I was clutching the bag to my chest, his face turned red and he headed towards the door. “Sorry, I’ll go make you a sandwich.”

  Then I was alone.

  I peeled off the clothes that I assumed were Jimmy's and headed for the shower. I let the hot steam wash over me, wishing it could do more than rinse my skin. Wishing it could somehow rinse my soul, or my mind, and get rid of my memories.

  Once done, I changed back into my own sweats and t-shirt, then brushed my teeth, twice, because my breath was horrible. I brushed out my hair and pulled it into a loose braid.

  I made my way out of the bathroom and started heading towards what I figured was the kitchen. Jackson's house was impressive. The whole house seemed to be made of huge, floor-to-ceiling windows, and he had large, wooden slat-like curtains that covered some of the windows, the rest were left exposed. He had hardwood floors with thick, warm rugs that seemed to run everywhere.

  I came around a wall and found the only other light on in the house, or on the floor, and saw Jimmy standing at a large, marble island, making two sandwiches. The kitchen was massive. All granite, chrome, and dark grays, it looked really manly. I leaned against the wall, watching the sandwich making. Jimmy looked up and smiled. In the light, it was easier to see him; he had on a pair of dark shorts and a white T-shirt that hugged him tightly. I noticed one of his tattoos peeking out from the top of his shirt. I'm not sure why, with all his other tattoos on his arms, that one stood out to me but it did.

  I walked into the kitchen a little further, after Jimmy put his attention back on the sandwich, and sat on a barstool.

  “What does your tattoo mean?” I asked quietly, pointing towards his neck.

  He slid a plate with a large, fully-loaded, turkey and avocado sandwich towards me.

  “I'll show you once you eat something and take some aspirin,” he replied with a little smile, while taking a big chunk out of his own sandwich. He watched me as I slowly took a few bites of the food. We stayed like that, in silence, until I had finished half the sandwich. Then I drank some of the bottle of water down, followed by two aspirin. Jimmy dusted off his hands before walking around the island towards me. Once he was standing just a foot or two away from me, he started pulling at the hem of his shirt until he pulled it completely off.

  I stopped drinking, because it should be noted that Jimmy Stenson was a kind of magnificent that belonged in an exhibit. Trying not to gawk, I finished off the bottle of water, allowing him the chance to explain his ink.

  “These,” he said, pointing towards two black wings that looked like they were laying over each shoulder, “are for my kids. They give me flight, make me soar. Anything I do, I do with them in mind.”

  “This…” He pointed towards his heart, where a tattoo of an actual heart, as in the organ, was outlined in black. From it, there were words wrapping around it and trailing up his torso, all the way to his neck. I tried to read the words, but they were written in a different language. He saw me trying to read them and took my hand, placing it over his heart. He looked into my eyes and said, “Though it's dark, let there be light. Let it be unwavering and unrelenting, one that leads me home.” He said it in a whisper that I could feel settle deep, deep in my soul, like they were written just for me.

  I didn't realize that I'd shut my eyes until I felt the pads of his thumbs brush over my eyelids. Without thinking, I kept my eyes closed and took my hand from his heart and placed it on his jaw and pulled him towards me. I opened my eyes and saw him watching me, with a pained, but hungry expression. Determined, I pulled his face closer towards mine until his lips were inches from my own. Then I let him take over.

  He closed the gap between us and pressed his lips to mine. He stayed there for a second, just gently kissing me, before he grabbed just behind my ear, holding my head in place as his kisses turned impatient. His tongue licked my bottom lip, gently but urgently, requesting access, which I gladly gave to him. I moved my face to the side to get a better angle, then wrapped my arms around his neck. Lifting my body just a little, he wrapped his arm around my back and with his other arm, he lifted me until he was cradling me. All the while, he didn't break the kiss and it was perfect. Beyond perfect. Then he turned and started heading towards the bedroom.

  Jimmy slowly set me down on the bed, like he was worried that if he moved too fast, then the moment would break. Once he knew that I wasn’t going to stop him, he turned the lamp off. He kissed me, thoroughly and deeply. He would pull back and then gently place kisses on my eyelids, my eyebrows, and then move to my ears, and my neck. It was the sweetest, most intimate, thing anyone had ever done to me. We knew that nothing was going to happen here, tonight in Jackson’s house, but having him near me, close to me, making up for lost time—it was everything. It was exactly what I needed and wanted; slow kisses in the dark, his arms around me, holding me, warding off the memories of what I had done, of what had been done to me. I knew that if I hadn’t slept for an entire day that I might actually get some sleep in his arms. I knew the nightmares would stay away while he held me. He kissed me until we were lying down, under the blankets. Until we broke apart, needing to stop before anything else happened.

  In the dark, he traced the lines of my face as I lay facing him.

  All we could hear was the rain, until he softly spoke up and asked, “What triggered you?”

  I was watching his lips, still so focused on what it felt like to have them on me. My eyes shot to his. “How did you know I was triggered?”

  He smiled, but didn’t stop tracing my face, “I know a thing or two about
working through them, getting over them… I have spent a few years in therapy to get through my past.”

  His admission was so soft, delicate, like it was just the two of us confessing sins to each other, begging for absolution.

  “Laney mentioned something that Jackson texted her, about how I was being hard on you, that you had tried to apologize, and I wasn’t giving you a chance.” I took a breath, then continued, ready to let this go, once and for all. “It made me feel like I was putting you through something, like I was the bad guy.

  “What triggered me was thinking about how unfair it was that I was being seen that way after what I went through. It brought up all these unresolved things about how you handled it… how you pushed me away. Before I knew it, I was gone, past the point of no return. The images were coming, I didn't have my meds, I was just angry. Then I just decided to become the villain you guys saw me as.”

  I finished with a small sob, still ashamed of how I handled it all. Still ashamed of this dark piece, that had so much control over me.

  Jimmy shifted closer, until my head was under his chin, then he wrapped his arms around me. I cried into his bare chest, embarrassed by the fact that I was crying again, and the fact that I was getting snot on his chest. I’m still a woman, after all; I worry about these things.

  He rubbed my back gently, then began to talk in a low, soothing tone. “Ramsey, I am so sorry. I did complain to Jackson, but it wasn’t how he made it sound. I deserve the distance you put between us, because I put it there first. I’m sorry how this all came across to you, but mostly, I am just sorry I stayed away from you, to keep them away from you. I went through hell to not talk to you, see you, be around you in any way, just so they wouldn’t know that you were the way to hurt me.”

  I pulled my shirt up to wipe at my tears and my snot, because I couldn't focus on what he was saying while that was still there. “If that was the case, why didn’t you keep your kids away? The kids mentioned being around those guys a few times,” I asked, a little confused.

  Jimmy kept rubbing circles into my back. “The MC is complicated. Each chapter has their own rules, their own bylaws and values. Davis was a sick prick, but he had a thing about not hurting kids. No one was ever allowed to take revenge out on kids, not until they were at least sixteen, that was his age limit. I don't know why sixteen, but it has to do with the Brass legacy law,” he said, like I should know what that means or something.

  “What is the Brass legacy law?” I asked with a light tone, hoping he didn't stop.

  He continued without hesitation, which felt wonderful after so many secrets between us. “The legacy law is confusing, but basically, if you are a part of the MC, which takes a lot to get into, then your family is the MC by default, it doesn’t matter if they want to or not. Once you say yes, you say yes for your future kids, and theirs, and so on. My dad was the one to initiate into the MC when he was nineteen. It complicated things when he met my mom, who wasn’t MC. Usually, guys try to stick with MC wives, because it makes their lives easier. I was initiated when I was sixteen, whether my mom was okay with it or not. She didn’t have a choice.”

  “Why not? I mean, I understand what you're saying about legacy, but can't you challenge it some way?” I asked, a little defensively for his sixteen-year-old self. Sixteen was still so young, still such a huge burden to take on.

  Jimmy let out a quiet laugh at my defensiveness. “The only way to escape from being in the MC is to fight your way out or outsmart them.”

  I nodded my understanding into his chest as he continued, “Dad fought his way out after my mom died. He was on a rampage and just wanted to be free, for the sake of my mother's dying wish. He was hunted down and had to make some tough choices but ultimately, in the end, he won his freedom. I did not. I stayed in for a few more years, wanting to get out, but not sure how. Once Lisa left, I had to get out of there. I knew they'd take advantage of the fact that I needed money, they'd want my kids around, they'd be the supportive family I needed. Only it wasn't support, it was manipulation and control. So, I met with Davis and asked for a sabbatical, time to sort my shit, away from the city.”

  “And he said yes?” I asked in disbelief.

  “He didn't like it, but I reminded him that he'd made special arrangements in the past for other club members. One of which was my dad. He allowed my dad to travel back and forth for club business to Belvidere, and back when mom wanted to move. Eventually, Davis agreed and said I could go, as long as I remembered that I wasn't done,” Jimmy finished with an easy tone, like this was something simple or a fond memory.

  I stayed quiet, hoping he would keep going, but some of these questions got the better of me.

  “So, these guys who were tracking you, wouldn't they know about your dad’s bar then? Wouldn't they go after him for revenge?”

  Jimmy gently shook his head. “No. My dad was basically untouchable after what he did to the Brass when they attacked him. The only way they'd attack was if he entered their territory, which was southern Chicago. Although, if they knew dad was in the city at all, I'm sure they would have gone after him. The guys who followed me knew this and knew better than to go into his bar.”

  It made me wonder what Theo did to defend himself all those years ago, but I also didn't want that kind of knowledge in my brain.

  “Davis found Lisa for me, even though I didn't ask him to. He used her meeting as an excuse to pull me back into ‘work.’ Told me he needed to use my company trucks to move product. I agreed, because I didn't have a choice. I got to finalize things with Lisa and finish things once and for all with Davis, all in one deal. I just had to be careful, and since my phone was bugged by Davis, I couldn't contact you, in any way.”

  It made sense, but it still bugged me that he kept me in the dark.

  “Why didn’t you explain this to me? I would have understood and stayed away from you. But you just left me, Jimmy. It hurt so badly, I thought… I thought you just changed your mind about us.”

  I was holding back tears again; the memory of being left out of his world still ached.

  He pulled me tighter against him, then placed a kiss on top of my head. “It all got so messed up, baby. I wanted to, I planned to, Davis had a date that he wanted to meet. I wanted to tell you before, but then Dad told me about his plans and that you hadn't told me, it just hit too fast. I ended up going to Davis that night. When I got drunk, I talked with him and ended up starting that next day. So, when I talked to you on the phone that morning, I didn’t have time to explain because his guys were already with me. I screwed up. I’m so sorry.”

  “Okay, but why not figure out a way to contact me, where they couldn't see. Why not sneak a message to me, or something. I mean, there were ways to do it, Jimmy,” I said, a little flushed, and irritated.

  “I wanted to, so many times. I sat in front of my door and cried like a damn baby when I saw you come and try to get into my house that night. I hated myself, but I knew you would hate me too, if you knew that I had gone back to the MC. I kept trying to picture that conversation and since you were already so hesitant to be with me, I felt like the MC thing would push you further away from me than you already were.”

  Tears were running down my damn cheeks again. I felt horrible, because he was right. I would have been pissed, and it would have complicated our very fragile and confusing relationship. I asked for friendship, but I would have responded like a girlfriend, and gone all crazy protective over him. He must have felt my tears, because he pulled away and looked at me. I wiped at them, desperate not to repeat the snot on the chest situation. “Jimmy, never do that again, please. I know, you probably made the right call, but I don’t want that anymore. I want you to be honest with me and include me. Let me stand by you, help you, be with you.”

  I stopped because I was very close to admitting that I loved him, and that was an admission I did not want to make right now. I needed him to say it first, because I was still so insecure about how he felt.

&nbs
p; He dipped his head and kissed my lips, softly, then pulled me back to his chest. “We never have to worry about it again. Davis is dead, Ramsey.”

  I pulled away and stared at him; shock and nausea were at war in my body.

  Jimmy gently and carefully pulled me back to him as he continued, “I found out a few days ago. He’s dead, Ramsey, and I wasn't sure if they would call you or tell you, I didn’t know how to. But it’s one less thing you have to worry about.”

  I had gotten calls, but I just ignored them all. I knew I had a court date coming up, everything else could wait. I didn’t want to talk to reporters, or to anyone else. I was afraid that if I took the calls, then I would somehow be found by him again. It was crazy, but crazy kind of described my life at the moment and that's why I was seeing Glenda three times a week. She told me not to worry about the calls until I was ready. I wasn’t ready.

  I rested against Jimmy again, letting the news settle between us. I didn’t really believe it, but at least there was a part of me that wanted to. It felt like progress.

  Rain was still pelting against the large window in the room. It was bright enough outside now that I could see the rain, drop for drop, as it attacked the window. Jimmy’s arms caged me in against his chest, as we lay snuggled under a mass of blankets. He was slowly breathing in and out, hopefully sleeping. I had no idea what time it was. I wasn’t tired, but I knew he was and I wanted him to rest.

  I closed my eyes, trying to memorize the feel of his warm chest behind me, of his arms around me, the feel of his skin. I started rubbing the hair on his arms, to memorize the feel of it—because I was that weird—when he started to move behind me. His hand slipped under my shirt and splayed flat on my stomach. His mouth moved to my neck as he started to slowly kiss behind my ear.