Salvage

by Tiffany Aleman

  “Why?” I ask, perplexed that she’d even be willing to help me. Growing up I was the biggest asshole to her, and even now she’s been nothing but nice to me. Yeah, she gave me crap when I interviewed for my job, but even since then we’ve made long strides and become friends… I don’t deserve her kindness or her hospitality.

  “Because, regardless of what you may think, I can understand where you’re coming from.”

  “Why? Did someone beat the hell out of you?” I scoff. I’m not trying to be a jerk, but there is no way in hell she can understand where I’m coming from.

  She looks taken aback as she stares at me from across the car. “Yeah, actually they did. And it wasn’t just someone, it was a group of people. And it wasn’t with their fists, it was with their words, their actions. And there was one person who stood by and watched it all happen.”

  I know what she’s going to say before she even says it.

  “It was you and that hurt so much worse,” she finishes her tone icily. Her chest heaves with rapid breaths as her fingers clench the steering wheel. We stare at one another for what seems like forever. Her confession leaves me speechless. Nothing I can say will ever take away the hurt and pain I caused her, the humiliation. Years later and it still affects her.

  “Look I’m sor…” I try to apologize, but she cuts me off.

  “Do you want to stay at my place or not?” She turns her gaze away from mine and stares out the windshield instead.

  “Please,” I finally answer. “And just so you know I am sorry for what I did to you.”

  She doesn’t answer me, doesn’t look at me, nothing. All I get from her is one single nod as she throws the car in drive, putting as much distance between my parents’ house and us.

  My mind flies in a million different directions as I drive us back to my place. Brayden doesn’t think I know what he went through, what he’s going through. He doesn’t know a damn thing about me. The echoes of their taunts and hurtful words that I had to endure every day from his gang of followers still rings in my ears. They always found some way to humiliate me. Being back in this town has me wanting to slink back into old habits, but I refuse to walk with my head down in attempts to be invisible. I refuse to be cautious when it comes to accepting gifts from people. He has no idea what it’s like to feel the need to look over your shoulder just so you’re not caught off guard. I guess I could thank him for one thing, I’m always one step ahead of the game now. I refuse to ever feel inferior to anyone ever again.

  It’s taken a lot of years to get to where I am today. When I first started college, I had such bad anxiety I was prescribed Xanax. My anxiety didn’t stem from all the pressure college brings with it. No. I was terrified people were going to treat me the same way they did in high school. You would have thought while I was another state away in Tennessee, I would have felt free. Not by a long shot. But now—I’m no longer that skittish, fearful girl.

  I’m a woman.

  A woman who holds her head up high. A woman who knows what she wants out of life. A woman who will never be made to feel less than anyone else—ever again.

  I pull up outside of my building and park. My eyes screw shut as I take a deep breath. That’s when I feel the slow fall of two lone tears escaping from the corners of my eyes. I can’t believe I’m actually shedding another tear over the bullshit from my past. It’s not like it’s the first time Brayden’s made me cry. And somewhere, deep down in my gut, I know this won’t be the last tear that’s shed because of him either.

  With the heels of my hands, I reach up and wipe my eyes dry before I turn to look at Brayden. Never has he seen me cry over him, and I’ll be damned if he does now. But when I look at him, a piece of my hardened exterior melts. The soft yellow glow of the streetlamp highlights his sleeping features. Long eyelashes fan out against his cheekbones. Slightly parted, he takes in slow, even breaths through his lips. His head rests against the passenger window while his muscles bulge beneath the arms crossed over his chest. Right now, he doesn’t look like the drunken asshole I picked up off of a curb. No, he looks sort of angelic, but even I know the devil was a beautiful angel before he fell to the pits of Hell.

  Gently, I shove his shoulder, but he doesn’t budge. I do it again and again, yet nothing. I look from him to the double doors I have to open, to the three flights of stairs up to my apartment with a shake of my head. There is no way I’ll be able to haul him up the stairs. I’d use the elevator, but after being stuck in it twice before I’ve learned my lesson. My eyes scan over his body and I guess he probably weighs two hundred and fifty pounds at dead weight.

  “What have I gotten myself into?” I mumble on a sigh.

  Unlatching my seatbelt, I shut the car off. I get out and make my way to the passenger side. I swing the door open and he all but falls out of the car. Thank God for seatbelts.

  “Brayden,” I say, shoving him back into the car. “Brayden.” Louder. “Brayden!”

  “What the…” he trails off. His head snaps from side to side as if he’s trying to figure out where he is.

  “You need to get out of the car.” I reach across him to unbuckle his seatbelt. It’s like I’m caring for a toddler.

  “Karmen?” he whispers just as I’m pulling back across his lap, our faces mere inches from each other.

  His green irises, intense and piercing, makes my breath catch. I’m stuck. Captivated. Enraptured by him, and it’s a feeling so foreign that I’m not sure what to make of it.

  With the slightest shake of my head, I pull myself out from under his spell. “We’re here, but I need you to help me help you up the stairs.”

  He looks from me to my building, back to me, and nods. As he hoists himself up and out of the car, his feet tangle with each other. It’s an automatic reaction. I throw myself forward, one hand on his chest, the other wraps his arm around my shoulders as he barely misses the concrete. With my foot I kick the car door closed and begin to drag him towards the stairs.

  “You’re so pretty,” he slurs. His fingers find purchase in my hair. Pain shoots through my scalp as he sweeps them through the mess of tangles. My head jerks back and forth and the pain intensifies.

  “Oww…” I cry out.

  “Your hair’s so soft,” he mumbles as we fumble our way into the building and up the stairs.

  “Yeah, well can you stop trying to rip it out?” I try to make it a joke so I don’t hurt his feelings. Sweat beads on my forehead, the back of my neck, and in-between my breasts. My chest rises and falls rapidly as I try to help him up the second flight of stairs. As much as I want to take a break, I know if I stop now, we’ll never make it up the third flight.

  “I never meant to hurt you,” he murmurs half way up the last set of stairs. The way he says it I know he’s not talking about my hair. My back stiffens, my shoulders square just from his words. My entire body goes rigid. We stand, two steps away from the top of the stairs, and I can’t seem to get my feet to move. The sincerity in his voice makes me want to believe him, but I don’t. He’s hurt me one too many times before.

  “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying right now.”

  Focus, that’s what I need to do. One foot in front of the other. Make it to my apartment. Get him on the couch, to sleep, and escape to my room.

  “Yeah, I may be drunk, but I know what I’m saying, Karmen,” he replies just as we make it to my door.

  I’m panting as I fish my keys out of my pocket and unlock the door. My apartment isn’t much. It’s a small two bedroom with beige carpet, a small fireplace, hardly any square footage, but it’s mine. Nothing in here is a hand-me-down. I’ve worked hard to pay for the things I have. I’m not the poor girl from the trailer park anymore. I’m the sensible woman in apartment three-oh-six who’s proud of what she has, of what she’s accomplished.

  I lead Brayden towards the couch as I say, “Here.”

  He falls onto the couch with an ‘oomph’, and all I can do is shake my head. I watch as he rol
ls onto his side, grabs the throw pillow and nestles into it, already fast asleep. His tall frame doesn’t allow him to fit on my couch all the way. He’s a mess. I have some kind of idea what made him this way, but why. That’s the million-dollar question. This is a new Brayden. One I haven’t seen before. Sure, I know the cocky Brayden. The asshole. Even a friendly, Brayden. But a vulnerable Brayden? I didn’t think he was capable of that emotion. I’m beginning to think there are many sides to the man that lies before me.

  With a sigh, I reach over him and pull my cashmere blanket over his body. “Good night,” I whisper. Even though I know he won’t hear me since he’s already passed out I say it anyway, “I don’t know what happened, but I am sorry for what you’re going through.”

  Just as I turn to leave, his hand catches mine. My heart stops dead in my chest because the words I just uttered weren’t really meant for him to hear. I was genuine with my apology. I don’t need it thrown back in my face.

  “Look at me.” His tone is husky from sleep.

  My eyes find his over my shoulder.

  “I meant what I said.”

  I stare at him for a long moment. My heart and head at war. My heart wants to believe he meant it when he said he’d never meant to hurt me. But my head tells me that I am a stupid woman for following my heart.

  The edges of my lips barely lift into a smile. “Goodnight.”

  Light streams across my face, and the pain it causes my head has me groaning out loud. I toss my forearm over my eyes to block it out, but then I hear, “Good morning.” It’s a soft, melodic voice, and as nice as it sounds it only intensifies the pounding in my head. “What time is it?” I groan.

  The screeching sound of the curtains scraping against metal and the blinding sun forces me to pull the blanket over my head.

  “Oh you know, noon,” Karmen says in a singsong voice. “No worries though, I called you out for today. I explained to Tammy that you called and said you weren’t feeling well. I, on the other hand, am going in here in a couple of hours.”

  “I need a couple more hours of sleep and thanks for calling out for me.”

  Next thing I know, the blanket disappears, and I’m left shielding my eyes with my hands from the blinding rays of the sun.

  “Yeah, see, that just doesn’t work for me. What you need to do is get up and drink this, then take a shower.” I peek up at her between my fingers. In her hands is a coffee mug, the Holy Grail to my hangover.

  Slowly, I sit up and accept the mug from her hands. “Thank you.” I watch her plop down on the seat cushion next to me. Gingerly, I take a sip of the coffee, and I have to suppress the groan wanting to escape. There are more pressing things to do right now. Like apologize. It seems like I’ve apologized more in the last two months than I ever have, especially where Karmen is concerned. I set the coffee down on the cocktail table in front of me. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I take a deep breath and will this damn headache to go away. “Look, I’m not… I don’t really remember much of last night. So, if I did anything, I’m really sorry.” When she doesn’t say anything, I look at her out of the corners of my eyes. She’s looking out the window across from the couch. The sun’s rays bathe her in its soft light. Her brown hair sits on top of her head in some type of bun, streaks of red and light brown mix with the chocolate color. Plump lips, button nose, and long lashes…features of hers I’ve never noticed before. She’s fucking beautiful. Even more so now than she was in high school.

  “Why are you staring at me?” she asks, her attention still trained on whatever’s outside the window.

  “I’m just noticing…” I trail off.

  That garners her attention. She cocks her head to the side, accentuating her long neck, her eyebrows lowered in confusion. “Noticing what?”

  “You.”

  She scoffs. “You’ve noticed me before, Brayden.”

  I shake my head. “Not like this.”

  Karmen reaches up, her fingers sweep underneath her eyes, no doubt looking for smudged mascara. She reaches up and smoothes a couple stray hairs out of her face. She looks down at herself. Legs that I’m dying to touch are covered with a pair of plaid pajama pants while a black tank top covers her amazing rack. “Like what?” she whispers, crossing her arms over her chest.

  With my forefinger, I reach out and lift her chin, forcing her to look at me. It takes a second before her eyes connect with mine. “You’ve always been beautiful, but you’ve grown into a gorgeous woman, Karmen.”

  I can hear the hitch of her breath, and her eyes search my face before she finally looks away from me, making me drop my hand.

  She clears her throat. “The um…the bathroom is over there.” She nods her head towards a door adjacent from where we sit. “There’s towels in the cabinet behind the door. I’ll see what I can find for you to wear.” She gets up from the couch and starts towards another door, another bedroom maybe?

  “I know you have no reason to believe me. You have no reason to trust me. But one way or another I will prove to you that I am not the same prick you knew back in high school.” My words stop her in her tracks, her back to me, her hand is poised on the doorknob.

  I watch her take a deep breath, but she says nothing for a few seconds. I can see the cogs turning in her brain. “I know. I wouldn’t be friends with a prick. But you know, I’m not the same girl I was in high school either. You can’t manipulate me. You can’t hurt me any longer. I won’t let you have that power over me.” She pushes her way into the room and that’s when I get up and take my shower. Her words echo in the back of my mind and at the same time make me feel like shit. Everything she just said is true. I manipulated and hurt her too many times to count. It’s a regret I will have to live the rest of my life with.

  I’m shocked when I enter her bathroom. Instead of pink everywhere, a light blue shower curtain adorns the tub, a white bath mat lies on the floor. Besides a picture of some type of flower hanging on the wall above the towel rack, her bathroom is bare. Cosmetics and toiletries don’t litter the vanity. Clothes aren’t scattered all over the floor. But when I see my reflection I’m taken aback by my appearance. A large purple bruise covers the left side of my jaw. My eyes are swollen and bloodshot, and I’m sure my breath smells awful. I can’t blame her for wanting to get away from me. I lean forward and wince at the pain when I poke at the bruise on my face. As much as I need to shave, it’s going to have to wait. Leaning forward on the edge of the sink, I brace my weight on my hands as I look down. I am so fucked up. The problems with my parents have always been my own. I never should have involved Karmen. Vaguely, I remember her picking me up from the bar and driving by my parents’ place. One memory piques out amongst the rest and that’s me telling her that I never meant to hurt her. And it’s true. If I could go back in time, I would. I’d erase all the awful things I watched other’s do to her. I’d make the people who were supposed to be my friends pay for the torture they put her through. But I can’t go back in time. I can’t make up for what I let happen, for ruining all of high school for her.

  My shoulders slump in defeat. I strip out of my clothes, reach behind me to pull out a towel, and turn on the water. As the warm stream pours over me something clicks and it’s a thought I don’t like. Why in the world would she have a man’s clothes here? Not that it’s any of my business. Deep down I know that. Doesn’t mean I have to like it. My fingers scrape across my scalp in an aggressive back and forth motion the longer I think about it. Not once has Karmen mentioned having a boyfriend or husband. I haven’t asked her, but you’d think something like that would come up in the past couple of months we’ve been working together.

  I lather my body with soap. The scent of something soothing instantly calms me. I flip the bottle over in my hands and that’s when I see the scent I’ve been trying to put with Karmen for a while now. Lavender. I bark out a laugh when I think about the jealousy that coursed through me just now. I have never been a jealous man in my life, especially over a woman. I’ve ha
d many women, but something tells me Karmen is different. She’s not a prize to be won. Nor a trophy to be obtained. She’s a woman worth claiming…loving.

  Unfortunately for me—I don’t know shit about love.

  The nerve of that man.

  Angrily, I shake my head at myself because for one moment I allowed myself to be sucked into the Brayden Charm. I allowed myself to picture something happening between us. Some people learn from the past, obviously I am not one of them. Being around him, getting a better look at the man he’s become has led me to dreams that I can’t allow myself to hope for. He made a fool of me in high school. I can’t let him have that power over me.

  Not now.

  Not ever.

  I dig through the box of clothes that I have in my spare room. They’re clothes that I’ve meant to get rid of. Levi left these in my apartment when we broke up years ago. I meant to give them back. Then life got in the way. I came home to help bury my mother. Not long after, I found out how sick my father was. I couldn’t bring myself to go back to Tennessee. Tammy and Ray packed my apartment up for me. Unfortunately, this box made it to Georgia along with the rest of my belongings. Looking at Levi’s things brings back old memories that I’d rather forget.