by Kara Parker
I didn’t want to feel sad anymore so I turned away from him and headed towards the shore. The beaches down here were rocky and not great for swimming and I had never seen any other people down here. It was one of the reasons I liked it. I walked towards the shore, my feet slipping a little in the sand. The waves were breaking and crashing near the shore, sending a spray of saltwater into the air with every crash.
I sat down in the sand a few feet from the water line and stared into the crashing ocean. No matter what happened in the world, no matter if I were alive or not, those waves would continue to crash forever and forever. It put Paul’s death and my own situation into perspective. It reminded me that eventually all things pass. I would get over Paul’s death and I would get over leaving The Bandits for Los Desperados.
I had only been sitting on the beach for a few moments when Julian walked over and sat down next to me and stared out into the sea. We weren’t touching, he was a solid foot away, and I was grateful for the distance. The sun was setting in front of us. It had almost entirely slipped below the horizon, an orange half-circle turning the clouds around it pink and gold and making the blue of the sea come alive.
“I used to go to the community swimming pool,” Julian said, unasked for. I looked at him in confusion and he continued. “My friends and I used to run that place,” he shook his head and smiled at the memory. “We would get up early in the summer and line up outside and wait for the lifeguards to open the gates. We had our spots that no one else was allowed to sit it and we used to shake the other kids down for their money. It was me and my friends. All our parents worked two or three jobs so we were always on our own. We were a real bunch of terrors.”
“Mini gang members?” I asked.
“Yup,” he said with a nod. “My mother used to beg me to be good and go to school. Do you know what her dream for me was?”
“President?” I asked.
“Accountant,” he said and I couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of Julian sitting behind a desk entering numbers into a spreadsheet all day.
Bemused, he shook his head and continued, “She wasn’t here legally. She snuck across the border when she was twenty-three and managed to avoid INS for the next twenty years. She didn’t have the right paperwork or education, so she mostly worked as a maid and a waitress. She worked for this service and cleaned a lot of offices. Something about cubicles really spoke to her. I think she knew I wasn’t going to be a doctor or lawyer, but an accountant was possible, according to her. I just needed to graduate from high school and then two years for my Associate degree and I would be set for life.”
“I think that’s sweet,” I said. “She wanted to make sure you were always taken care of.
“Yeah, her intentions were always good,” He looked out into the ocean and his face had softened in a way I hadn’t seen since that night at the hotel. He looked like his old self. “But that wasn’t for me. I hated school, I hated all the rules, and I hated being stuck inside when it was nice out. Remember being little and living for the summer?”
I nodded and smiled. “What about your dad?” I asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Gone mostly. Every now and then he would show up. Usually around Christmas or Thanksgiving, when he needed somewhere to crash. He would stay for a week or two and then he would leave to run an errand and just not come back. It’s funny; I didn’t mind it half as much as my mom did. She would be devastated every time he left. Every time, even though he never said so, she was convinced he was going to stay for good, get a job, and be a real dad. But I knew better. Finally, when I was fourteen he came by in January telling us he needed a place to stay and four thousand dollars. My mom was at her second job as a waitress at the local diner, but me and my buddies were home. He stopped by and I refused to let him in. I told he was done and that he should never come back. At first he laughed at me and called me a stupid kid who needed to get out of his way. But then he saw I wasn’t alone, that I had about five friends with me. Suddenly it was this older, strung out guy, versus six teenagers and he knew his odds were no good. He left, and I never saw him again.”
“Did you ever regret it?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “Not once. He was bad news. He was lazy and selfish. Every time he would disappear my mom would cry for days. She would try to hide it from me, crying in the bathroom and in her car, but kids see all the stuff their parents try to hide. I knew that as long as he kept reappearing every couple of months she would never move on. And I just couldn’t stand to see her cry anymore.
It was better just the two of us anyway. She usually worked two jobs so I had to help out around the house and make my own lunches and get myself to school. I did all that stuff for her, so she could come home and relax and not have to work anymore.”
“Is that her in that picture in your living room? The one with the woman standing next to the house?”
He nodded, his jaw fixed and staring into the ocean. He hadn’t looked at me once the entire time he was talking. “It was her house. I helped her with the down payment. No more apartments, no more slumlords, it was all hers.”
“Where is she now?”
“She died when I was twenty-six. Lung cancer, she went quickly. There wasn’t too much pain. They caught it too late to really do anything about it.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. I had no idea his life had been so hard. He never talked about it or complained about it. The pictures in his house looked like they came from someone who had everything growing up. But Julian had just learned how to make the best of a bad situation. He didn’t let it hang around his neck and drag him down. It was a thing that happened and he dealt with it and moved on.
He shrugged his shoulders and looked out over the ocean while I looked at him. Everything about our meeting had been chaotic and destructive. We had skipped over everything you do at the beginning of a relationship, like talking about your childhood and your life, all of that. It had been death and destruction and me handcuffed to a radiator. But after everything that happened here we were again, so relaxed and open with each other. There was no bluster, no flirting, just him being himself and me being me and the two of us fitting together like God had made us one for the other.
If only there weren’t any chaos. If only we could have been on the same side. If only we had met years ago before either of our loyalties had been declared. But there was no point in wondering what could have been. There was only the reality of where we were at that moment.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“I am sorry that Paul died.” He still wasn’t looking at me. It was like he was apologizing to the ocean, or the world, or God maybe. It sounded like he meant it. This was the first time he had truly apologized for it. He had rationalized it and tried to explain it, but never apologized until now. “I didn’t intend to kill him. But I don’t regret what I did. If he had taken you home, The Bandits would have killed you, Daniela. And even worse, it would have been all my fault. I was the one who took you, I was the one who chased you down and brought you back. You were under my care and I couldn’t let anyone hurt you. But I am sorry that he died. I didn’t mean to kill him.”
“I know,” I said, and I was surprised that I wasn’t crying again. I wasn’t even fighting off tears. Paul was dead and no amount of crying was going to bring him back. He hadn’t been perfect. He had been like everyone else, parts of him were good; other parts were bad. He had been a person, but now he was gone. Mourning him forever wouldn’t bring him back and I knew Julian hadn’t meant to kill him. I had known it from the moment I saw the surprised expression on Paul’s face. I just hadn’t been ready to accept it until now, until Julian apologized.
“I know all of that is true,” I continued and now I was the one looking out into the blue expanse before me. The sun had sunk below the horizon, but the skyline was filled with oranges and pinks that were reflected in the blue water of the ocean. “I’m sorry for being...like this,” I stumbled, searching for the right word. “I
didn’t mean to be so hard on you about it, but...”
“What?” he asked quietly. He was looking at me, but I continued to stare out into the ocean.
“Paul, for the longest time, was my hero. Growing up I had no plans, no goals, nothing. I lived in one terrible foster house after another. It didn’t matter what I did or how hard I tried, it felt like the world was set against me and life was always just going to be one horrible experience after the other. I didn't care about school or work I didn’t care about anything.
When I met Paul I was in a foster house with eight other kids. It was a mess; we all had to share rooms and sleep on top of each other. There was never any food in the house and we never got new clothes. The woman who ran it told us when we moved in that she was going to do her thing and we should do ours. She didn’t care if we went to school or if we ate our vegetables, she just wanted us out of the house as much as possible. There was a monthly inspection we all had to be home for. She told us exactly what to say to the social worker and we said it and she got her checks and that was it.
You know what’s really terrible is that was one of the good ones. She just wanted to smoke cigarettes and watch soaps every day. It was actually nice to not have to worry about getting hit, or having strange men in the house like some of the other homes I had been in. That’s how bad things were for me for my entire life.
I had stopped going to school, not that anyone noticed, and I was in with some bad kids. The kind of girls who gave blow jobs for soda and thought nothing of it. Then one night we’re hanging out in a playground looking to score some weed and we ran into Paul. He sold to us and stayed and hung out. I remember he paid attention to me and no one else. There were prettier and more mature girls, but he only had eyes for me. No one had ever noticed me like that before. He was sweet; he told me I was the most beautiful woman in the whole world. He made me feel special, like I mattered.
I moved in with him when I turned eighteen. I joined the gang not long after. Then they made me driver, then lead driver and I went from this kid with no money to this woman who was leading a team of ten men. He saved me. Without Paul I would have just been another meth-addicted hooker at a truck stop. He’s the reason I’m a good driver; he’s the reason The Bandits accepted me.
Even after we broke up, he was still always around; we were in the same gang, after all. Part of me always thought he and I would wind up together. I guess part of me hoped he would turn into a better person somehow. Someone who was responsible and thought ahead. He never did, and I don’t think he ever would have. Paul always thought he was right. He thought he was perfect and everyone else needed to change.”
“Why did you break up with Paul The Chaotic Lion?”
“He cheated on me,” I said looking towards the heavens and shaking my head. “He didn’t like my success with The Bandits. He was their driver first, back when I was just his old lady. He wasn’t great at it; he was just good enough to keep getting the job. He would always want me to come with him on his long hauls because he hated being alone. He asked me to get my license so I could drive for him part of the time when he got tired. It’s funny; he didn't want the other Bandits to know I would be driving because it would make him look bad. So I got my license in secret and then there was the shootout on the run to Mexico and Big Mike saw I had talent. He started giving me runs and I was good, better than Paul, and he gave me better runs and better paying jobs and Paul was getting more and more jealous. It was making him look bad in the gang, so he gave me an ultimatum: driving or him. It was right before I was about to start on a ten-hour drive. I remember, I rolled my eyes at him and told him to get over himself and that we would talk when I got back.
I came back from my drive and I was dirty and tired and it’s funny, I was ready to beg him for forgiveness. I had spent the entire time convincing myself he was right and I should feel bad for my success. Then I walked into his bedroom and saw that whore Sheila in bed with him and that was it. I wasn’t going to be the kind of woman who let her man sleep around and pretend not to care.
In truth, I was happy when we broke up. Things between us had been bad at the end. Coming home had become miserable and we fought over everything. When we broke up, I was sad, but at the same time I felt free, like this huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I think when we broke up he expected me to leave the gang, and when I didn’t and Sheila moved on to someone else he came begging me to take him back. But I was so much happier without him that I laughed in his face when he promised me that if I came back he would really change for good.
Still, I did love him once. I had our whole future figured out, complete with cut-outs from magazines and everything,” I said with a smile. “It’s weird to think he’s gone. I used to dread running into him at the bar or the clubhouse, and now...”
I looked over at Julian. He was sitting in the sand, his legs stretched out in front of him. All the hatred I felt for him was gone. He hadn’t meant to kill Paul and Paul would have killed him given half a chance. It was the life we led. The life we all joined willingly. We were bikers, and the phrase was ‘ride or die.’ Sometimes you didn’t come home.
“I’m sorry about how I acted these last couple of days,” I said quietly. “I think I just needed to mourn him. There are supposed to be steps, right? I think I went through all of them in the last two weeks.”
“Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance,” Julian said. “Those are the steps.”
“Sounds about right,” I said with a nod. I had experienced each of those emotions about fifteen times over in the last weeks. “I think the depression had been the longest and the hardest. But sitting here staring at the ocean I’m not angry with you anymore. I’m not trying to think of the many ways this could have been avoided. It happened, it sucks, but it happened and I need to move one.”
The sun had set, and a crescent moon was rising higher into the night sky with every passing second. As the light dimmed stars were appearing above us. The brightest ones came first, shining through the sun’s weak glow. It was beautiful and haunting and without any lights I could see more stars that I ever had before.
I could see Julian looking at me out of the corner of my eyes. But I wasn’t ready to look back at him yet. I knew what he wanted and I wanted it, too, but was there a way we could do this right? Without the wars and the fighting and the deaths. Could we really be together and have it just be normal?
Finally, I turned to look deep into his green eyes. He wasn’t asking anything of me, he wasn’t expecting anything from me. I could tell he hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. He had never wanted to start a war over me, but now that a war was being waged, he was going to fight for me.
His hand came up and I closed my eyes as he caressed my cheek. I opened them again and saw him staring at me. I had missed him. He leaned forward and kissed me gently as the moon rose above us.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
His strong hand was gentle against my skin. He was cupping my cheek and ever so slightly tilting my head towards him so he could kiss me even deeper. Without me even thinking about it, my body cleaved to him. I turned and tilted my head to give him access to my mouth and his lips touched mine and then his tongue touched mine and I remembered everything I had forgotten about Julian.
He was a good kisser. Some guys get into these routines and they kiss the same way, every time no matter what. But not Julian. The tip of his tongue touched mine and then it slid over and around mine and I moved to match. He waited to see what I wanted to do, what I was going to do and then he reacted to that. Some our kisses were chaste pecks, others were deep and long, and still others were passionate as Julian wrapped his arms around me and pulled against him.
He released me and kissed me gently again, his hand slightly caressing my neck, his touch so light I wasn’t even sure it was there half the time. And then it was there, his warm skin against the cool air all around us. His skin on mine was like fire and everywhere he touched me a t
ingly sensation followed.
He gently raked his hands up and down my bare arms as we kissed. His touch made me shudder in the best way, and I had to pull away from him for a moment. His hand was still running up and down my arm in smooth and slow waves and I looked into his eyes and could see the want there.
He took my shoulder in his hand and gently guided me down until I was lying back in the sand. He leaned over me, but instead of kissing me, he skipped my mouth and kissed my neck. The scruff of his beard and the softness of his lips and tongue mixed together to create ecstasy and I moaned loudly as he kissed and bit his way across the sensitive skin of my neck. Meanwhile his hands were sliding up and under my shirt.
He grazed the sensitive skin of my belly, his hand moving back and forth and he traced his way up until he stopped at my breasts. He took one in his hand and over the fabric of my bra he began to massage it, squeezing and rubbing as I moaned and writhed underneath him. His hands and his tongue were both working perfectly together and the sensation was almost too much.
I sat up. I wanted him. I wanted him badly. I was tired of feeling weak and powerless, I was tired of crying, and I wanted to feel alive again. Julian looked at me in confusion as he drew his hand out of my shirt, but I didn’t want him to stop, far from it.
