Lex (Unconventional Hearts)

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Lex (Unconventional Hearts) Page 12

by S. K. Logsdon


  “Fuck, Lex, you’re one hot bitch.” His tongue ruthlessly laps my neck saturating my skin with his disgusting saliva.

  Curling my toes and holding my breath, he begins to unwelcomingly nibble on my collarbone, stopping an inch from the seam of my panties with his fingers, where my lady lives.

  “Hey! What do you think you’re doing fuckhead?!” a familiar voice yells, without a doubt, flaming pissed off.

  Opening my eyes, I turn my head, and Corey looks to see Roni, my savior, stalking angrily toward us.

  “Go away!” he yells back and she starts to walk even faster, closing in.

  Thank you, Roni!

  “You better back away, Corey, or I’ll kill you myself.” She snarls, her eyes blazing with all the demonic infernos within the depths of hell itself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this outraged.

  Corey refuses to release me and as Roni reaches us she grabs his shirt and yanks him away, and I push his chest at the same time to help.

  “Go, Lex” She darkly orders, pointing toward the main part of the bar. Keeping her hand twisted in Corey’s shirt. His eyes are focused on her and she him.

  I don’t listen. I scurry out of the corner and come to stand beside her.

  “Lex…” Her warning tone and locked jaw tells me she’s not playing but neither am I. He’s drunk and I won’t let him hurt her either.

  “Fine.” She huffs and without a second to spare she upper cuts him square in the nose.

  Corey shrieks so loudly it pierces my ears and immediately he covers his without a doubt, broken nose.

  Blood gushes between his fingers and pain-laden tears trail down his cheeks. Never releasing his shirt Roni aggressively tows a heavily bleeding and now whimpering Corey behind her.

  If only I could have done that, not her.

  “You fuck with Lex or even speak to Lex again, I’ll castrate you and feed you those things you call balls.” She snaps, yanking his shirt harder, causing him to stumble.

  Once we reach my shoes in the hall, I pick them up and two fingers hold them in my left hand, not taking my eyes off my attempted rapist.

  Making it to the main part of the bar, all eyes turn to us and I instantly shrink. I don’t like to be a part of any gossip. This is going to fly around town for weeks; I just know it.

  “What happened?” Bob jogging towards us with a concerned expression asks over the quieted crowd.

  “Corey tried to rape Lex.” She states. There’s no if ands or butts about it. She gets straight to the nitty-gritty.

  As the word ‘rape’ hangs in the air, Corey slumps down even further.

  Suddenly, without warning, a burr passes my line of sight as Gage flies through the parted crowd and tackles Corey to the ground.

  “You motherfucker!” Gage growls, sitting atop Corey, ferociously pounding his friend over and over with his fist in the face and chest. Corey tries to block the assault with his arms but Gage is working with quick precision. Fluidly jabbing Corey in the cheek, in the ribs and the ear, then both fists simultaneously smash into his cheeks and I think I hear a crack.

  “You motherfucker!” he repeats, in a murderous rage relentlessly wailing away.

  I can’t believe this is happening! I’m in utter shock. My heart is nearly pounding out of my chest.

  Bob wraps his arms over both mine and Roni’s shoulders, kisses her forehead and we all stand back and watch in astonishment as Gage unleashes on Corey. It’s justice, is what I keep trying to tell myself, even though he didn’t actually rape me.

  Sweat starts to bead on Gage’s blood spattered face and just as Corey is nearly unrecognizable, Auto pulls a raw and animalistic Gage off the man who used to be his friend. And physically escorts a growling, unwilling and completely blood doused Gage out the front door.

  “An ambulance is on its way, and so is Lincoln.” A woman says, breaking the eerie silence. The bar has gone from drunken party fest to a sobered state. The music is off and everyone is either staring at me, a bloodied and unconscious Corey or at the front door.

  “I’m going to go check on Gage.” I announce and the crowd parts as I make my way to the front door. A man I’ve never met before opens it for me.

  “He almost raped her!” Gage is still yelling.

  “I know, but Roni got there.” Auto’s calm. He’s always calm. Smoking as much dope as he does, he’d better be.

  I turn the corner and see Gage has taken off his designer black tattoo printed hoody and laid it on the ground against the brick wall. His white t-shirt has speckles of blood on it and his face is a smeared mess. He must have tried to wipe the splatters off but it didn’t work at all. In his mouth, he’s puffing hard on a Black & Mild, pacing back and forth in the alley beside the bar.

  Sirens erupt in the night air.

  “Hey.” I quietly mutter, chewing on my bottom lip.

  Stopping dead in his tracks, Gage drops his half smoked Black & Mild on the ground, takes three long strides and engulfs me compassionately into his thick, heavily tattooed arms. His busted hand lovingly strokes the back of my head, as his lips press into my hair.

  I feel so safe in these arms.

  Pressing a sweet lingering kiss into my hair, he inhales my scent. With a loud exhale, his body releases his iron stance and he relaxes against me, melding us together.

  “Are you okay?” he asks in a near whisper.

  “I should be asking you that.” I wrap my hands around his waist and turn my head so it’s resting on his chest. I can smell him and he smells so good. Like fragrant tobacco, bergamot, mandarin, clove, blood, and musky man. It’s wondrously divine.

  “I’m fine. Did he hurt you? Do you want to sue him?” His worried tone isn’t lost on me. His words are heavily laced with sadness and regret, as he combs his fingers through my hair.

  Shaking my head against his hard yet soft peck, I mutter. “No, but you might go to jail. He could die.”

  “So…” I feel him shrug.

  Closing my eyes, I drift into a blissful Gage bubble. I hear the ambulance arrive and Lincoln, but I don’t care. My adrenalin has drastically plummeted and I’m suddenly beyond exhausted.

  Sighing, I nuzzle my nose into his sensual heat and he lets me stand here in the alley, enveloped in his protective arms. As one of his hands caress my hair and the other soothingly rubs my lower back.

  “Is my girl alright?” I hear Lincoln ask.

  Kissing my hair again, Gage responds. “Yes…Do you need to arrest me?”

  “Did he try to rape her?” Lincoln with an overly concerned tone asks.

  “Yes, Roni found them. I saw Lex go back to the bathroom and never came back. I didn’t think a thing about it. Roni must have, because she went lookin’ for her, broke his nose before I got my hands on him. If you want to arrest me, do it. But do it after I hold her a little while longer.” He pulls me tighter and kisses my head. “Then I’ll come, you can even put me in the back of the cruiser and read me my Miranda Rights.”

  I can’t believe he’s willing to go to jail for me.

  “Naw, way I see it, he got what he deserved and then some. I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t sue ya though. You got a good lawyer?” Lincoln chuckles and Gage joins in.

  “Yes, I’m sure I can come up with something. How bad is he?”

  “He’ll live, but I’m sure some serious reconstructive surgery will be in order. His cheeks were hallowed when I saw him, his eyes are black and blue and the paramedics couldn’t wake him. My guess is he’s got a serious concussion. Must not of punched him in the mouth, I see he’s got all his teeth.”

  “I learned my lesson long ago, don’t punch in the mouth. You’ll get your knuckles busted all to hell. It’s not worth it.”

  And here I thought he was just letting loose on him. Apparently, I was wrong. Gage hit him just where he intended to, with complete control. That’s scary and kind of sexy, even though it shouldn’t be.

  “Lex?” Lincoln is speaking to me.

 
“Yeah?”

  “You alright here with Gage? Or do you want me to take you home? I…”

  Gage cuts him off. “I’ll take her home. I’m sober. Only had a single glass of wine.”

  “Is that alright, sweetheart?” Lincoln questions.

  My heart blooms at his sweetness. Lincoln is the kindest man and the best police officer. He needs a wife to share all that love with. Maybe I can find him a girlfriend.

  Nodding into Gage’s chest, I answer. “Yes, he or Roni can take me home.”

  “I heard my name.” I feel Roni’s hand softly land on my shoulder, supportively patting it a few times. “What’s up, Linc?”

  “Not much, Roni, hear you kicked some ass tonight. I’m going to make my report and make sure I get Corey’s statement. I’ll need you three to write one up for me. But I won’t keep ya. Lex needs to get home. Make sure you tuck her in tight for me. I’ll drop by tomorrow to check on her.” Lincoln rattles off to Roni and Gage.

  “And Lex, you’ve got my number if you need anything. I’m working all night. But I don’t care if it’s ten in the morning and I’m sleeping, I’ll wake up and come over so we can eat ice-cream and watch a movie.”

  Awe! I need to give him a hug.

  Releasing my arms from around Gage, I try to pull away but he won’t let me go.

  “I want to hug him.” I whisper, gazing up into his majestic blue green eyes.

  Cupping my cheeks in his hands, Gage holds eye contact and my heart reaches out to him. Even now, all dirty, he’s sexier than any man I’ve ever imagined.

  “Okay,” he nods, closes his eyes and leans forward, sweetly kissing my forehead.

  My heart physically aches walking away from Gage and into Lincoln’s outstretched arms. I melt into and he too kisses the top of my head. It must be a hot guy thing. Except he couldn’t kiss my forehead as easily, Lincoln stands about three to four inches taller than Gage and my head hits him mid chest. He’s a massive man.

  “Love you Lex, call or text me tomorrow. Let me know how you are. I’ll stop by on my way to shift about nine tomorrow night.” Kissing me one more time, he lets me go and leaves to go do his job, and Gage doesn’t wait another second to have me back into his protective arms, where I strangely feel like I belong, even though I shouldn’t. I know I should probably force myself to stop liking it this much. But I can’t. It feels too good, too comforting, too perfect to let go of. I can go back to disliking him tomorrow. Tonight I’m going to relish in this comforting connection.

  “You’re sure you’re okay?” Roni asks standing in the doorway of my bedroom. Concern etched in the lines of her face.

  “I’m fine. I promise. Nothing actually happened. He didn’t feel lady, so it’s alright.”

  I’m being honest with her. After spending another hour at the bar with Gage, Roni and Bob, I feel much better. Gage insisted on driving me home. But I insisted right back that he’d already done more than enough. Which left Roni to drive me home in my car; she rode with Bob tonight, so it worked out perfectly.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about lady? We haven’t talked about how you feel about her in a long time.”

  Roni is being too nice. I need my bitchy best friend back. I don’t like people feeling sorry for me or trying to hold my hand. I don’t want to be babied. I want to go to sleep.

  “Lady is fine. I like her just fine and she serves a purpose. I still want to keep her.”

  “Good. Now go to sleep.”

  She smiles, winks, and shuts my door. Rolling onto my side, I click off my night lamp. Tonight has been quite the evening. I’m exhausted and ready to sleep away all of tonight’s drama.

  Chapter Eleven

  As I am sure, you have gathered through the course of the night, I have an extra appendage. Now, before you go writing me off and thinking I’m some sicko freakazoid. Hear me out.

  Here’s my story on how I became the woman I am today.

  My past, as far back that I can remember, my life was always filled with pain. Emotional pain, laced with moments of excruciating punishment. Punishment rendered firstly by my father for not being the son he always wanted. I was the monster or a ‘thing’ in his eyes, or that’s what he told me on many occasions, all because I’m different. I was born with the wrong sex between my legs. And once my mother and I were finally able to rid ourselves from the destruction my father reaped, we moved to Heartfair to start our new lives. Then at twenty-one, I met my first long-term boyfriend. The man I lost my virginity to, but once again I was betrayed. Our love and my trust was obliterated within the first six months of us being together. The love we felt quickly fell apart and was replaced with hatred and through that hate; abuse was the front-runner in my life for eight very long agonizing months, until I was finally saved. We’ve already talked about Brian. And that’s only half of my story.

  When I was a child, I felt different. I couldn’t pinpoint what exactly. I just didn’t feel like a boy. I never liked boy things. Even though I wore boy clothes, had a boy haircut and was even forced to pee like a man; standing up. Although when my father wasn’t home, I always sat down. It felt more natural to me.

  I can vividly remember this moment like it was yesterday. I was four and my mom took me grocery shopping with her. Which we did everything together. I’ve always been close with her. I had on a pair of blue bibs—or that’s what we called them. You might know them better as overalls. And that spring day at the store because I had been such a good boy helping my mom with her shopping—by putting things in her cart that was on our list and always listening to her instructions. My mom surprised me by taking me to the toy department to pick out something special, just for me.

  Being an only child with no close cousins or friends, I had never seen a baby doll or a Barbie up close. They were always on TV but I was not allowed to watch it much. So I was ecstatic to be able to touch and see them in their plastic boxes, lining the store aisles. Padding my tiny light up tennis shoe clad feet, up and down the aisle I looked at every single toy, until I found her. The most perfect doll. She was a Barbie with long blonde hair and a frilly pink dress that fell off her shoulders. It was love at first sight. And when I carried my precious cargo over to my mom, she was slightly puzzled by my choice.

  “Lex, are you sure you don’t want a He-man action figure? Or a G.I Joe, instead?” she asked with a sweet smile on her face.

  Shaking my head and batting my long lashes, she gave in. I was dead set on that doll. And being the sweet mom she is, I was allowed to have my very first pretty pink Barbie. I was beyond proud and thrilled to call her mine.

  When we got home to our small single story house in a tiny town resting in the middle of Connecticut, I raced into the house for the scissors so my mom could open my Barbie for me. She did, even before putting away the bags of groceries.

  I played and cherished that Barbie in my blue walled bedroom where I talked with her and introduced her to my stuffed animals and the hot wheels that I had meticulously lined up on my brown dresser for display. I never played with them. I didn’t like them that way.

  When my Dad came home that night from work, he was a police officer and always worked long hours. So I didn’t see him as much as my mom, who stayed at home with me full time.

  Running from my room down the hall with my Barbie in my grasp, I was so excited to show my dad. Stopping in front of his recliner as he knelt down unlacing his boots and sitting them next to his chair one at a time, he looked up at up at me with tired eyes, a forced smile, and he said, “Hey there, Lex.”

  “Dad, look what I got today!” I screeched so excited I could have jumped out of my skin if it hadn’t been attached.

  As soon as my father’s eyes latched onto the doll that I was jiggling in my tiny hands he snatched it away. At first, I thought it was so he could get a better look at her. To admire how pretty her fluffy pink dress was.

  Boy, oh boy, was I wrong.

  “You wanted a fucking bitch doll?!” he seeth
ed, red faced, jaw locked, his knuckles that were wrapped around my Barbie had turned pure white.

  I didn’t respond.

  “Lex, you don’t want to pee standing up and you like your mother’s lipstick and perfume. Now, you want a stupid doll!?” By this time, he was screaming right in my little four-year-old face. I could smell cigarette stench on his breath. I was already shaking and bawling so hard I couldn’t have spoken a single coherent word if I wanted to. I sniffled and sucked in the snot that wanted to run, and kept wiping my eyes repeatedly, to clear away the waterfall of salty tears.

  “Lex, dolls are for girls! And no son of mine will be playing with bitch dolls!”

  That was the very first day of many days to come that my earth shattered around me. First came Barbie’s head. He tore off her body and chucked it angrily across the room, with a manly roar.

  “No fucking dolls, Lex.” He screamed again, yanking off both of her arms at the same time. Those he tossed into the trashcan next to his chair. I can’t remember much of what he screamed after that, because I was so devastated with a shattered heart, I couldn’t think straight. The one and only toy I had loved was being destroyed in front of my very eyes. The same day I had brought her home to live with us.

  Once he was finished, all that was left was her torso. Even her dress was gone, since he’d torched it over the trashcan with his butane lighter that he pulled from his pants pocket. It was the one he normally used to light his cigarettes.

  Afterward, because I was still hysterically crying, my father told me like so many parents are guilty of. “If you’re going to cry, I’ll give you something to cry about.” And he did, with his black leather belt and my trembling body bent over his knee. I lost count after ten lashes on my bottom. I was only four so I couldn’t count much higher, even if I wanted to.

  From that day forward, I vowed to myself, that I’d hide who I am from the world, never letting anyone see me smelling my mom’s perfume or trying on her heels. I was sneaky. I had no other choice. I was different. I knew it. I also knew no one was going to accept who I am.

 

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