First Time Lucky

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First Time Lucky Page 82

by Chance Carter

The sheriff shrugged. “Gris came in, said you were bad news. Said you were stealing his woman. I figured I was doing the right thing locking you up for a little while to give him a chance to get her back.”

  “Does he have her now?” Forrester said, getting to his feet.

  “Hold on, hold on,” the sheriff said. He came into the cell and helped Forrester back onto the bed. “Let the doctor get a look at you before you rush off. You’re in no state to go out there looking for trouble.”

  “Did Gris take her?”

  “I don’t know,” the sheriff said. “All I know is that he hasn’t been around here yet this morning.”

  Forrester felt a sudden rush of panic. It was a strange sensation. He prided himself on his ability to remain calm in any situation, no matter what was going on, but suddenly, the thought of Elle being taken away by Gris was more than he could handle.

  Was this what love felt like?

  When the boys came back with the doctor, Forrester could hardly sit still.

  “Are you going to let me bandage these ribs, or not?” the doctor protested as Forrester lay on the bed.

  “Just do your best, doc. I’ve got to get out of here, and fast.”

  “I’d really like to take you in to the hospital.”

  “I don’t have time for that. Just wrap them.”

  As the doctor bandaged Forrester’s injured torso, the pain was overwhelming.

  “I don’t see why you won’t let me give you something for the pain,” the doctor said.

  “I can’t,” Forrester said through gritted teeth. “I need to be fully alert.”

  As soon as the doctor was done, Forrester got up. He nearly fell and the sheriff and his son had to hold him up.

  “I’m all right, I’m all right,” Forrester said. “I need my truck key.”

  “Where are you going?” the sheriff said.

  “I’ve got to find Elle before Gris does.”

  Phil put his hand in his pocket and handed Forrester a motorcycle key. “Take this,” he said. “If you have to chase them, it will be faster.”

  Forrester took the key. “Are you sure?”

  “It’s the least I can do, after everything we did to you,” Phil said.

  Forrester nodded. “Apology accepted,” he said.

  “You sure about this?” the doctor said. “It’s freezing out there. The road is covered in snow. You’re already weak. It’s not exactly ideal conditions for riding a motorcycle.”

  Forrester didn’t take the time to reply. He took the key and hurried down the corridor out of the jail. He had to find Elle.

  Chapter 39

  Forrester

  Forrester found Phil’s motorcycle outside the police station and started it up. It was a powerful machine. It wouldn’t be safe to drive in those conditions, but it would definitely be the fastest and that’s all he cared about.

  He started it with a kick and rode down the street to the diner, flinching in pain at every movement of his muscles. When he got off the bike he limped as quickly as he could through the door.

  “Forrester,” Kelly cried when she saw him. Her jaw literally dropped.

  “Kelly,” Forrester said.

  “Where the hell were you? Where’s Elle? We’ve been worried sick.”

  “What do you mean?” Forrester said.

  “She didn’t show up for work this morning. We dropped her home last night and we thought she’d be safe there. Her ex, Gris, has been harassing her.”

  “She’s not here?” Forrester said.

  “No,” Kelly said.

  Grace came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. Forrester watched as she approached. She seemed very mad. She walked all the way up to him and stopped when she was just inches from his face.

  “Forrester Snow, you’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

  “I know,” Forrester said, but he didn’t offer any explanation. What good would it do now to make excuses? He had to find Elle.

  “Your mother would be ashamed of you, standing up that poor girl the other day.”

  “I never stood her up,” Forrester said. “I wouldn’t purposefully stand her up in a million years.”

  Grace looked him over. She saw the bruises on his face, the way he was holding himself up on the counter, the obvious wounds he’d suffered during the past couple of days.

  “Something went wrong,” Grace said. “Someone did something to you.”

  Forrester shrugged. “You knew my mother?”

  “Of course I did, but this isn’t the time to talk about that. You’ve got to find Elle.”

  Forrester looked around the diner. “I don’t know where to start,” he said.

  “I’ll tell you where,” Gracie said. “Her apartment.”

  Kelly gave Forrester directions to the attic apartment and explained how to get a key to get in. Forrester half limped, half ran down the street toward it.

  When he got there he knocked on her door. When there was no answer he started looking for Dennis. He went into the bar that occupied the ground floor of the building.

  “Sir, are you Dennis?”

  “That depends on who’s asking,” the old man said.

  “My name’s Forrester Snow. I’m a friend of Elle’s. Your tenant upstairs.”

  “Forrester Snow. I know that name.”

  “Yes, sir. I grew up around these parts. You probably knew my father pretty well.”

  The old man grimaced. “I knew him. He was no friend of mine, but I knew him.”

  “I came home to bury him.”

  “So you did,” Dennis said, nodding. “So you did.”

  “I’m nothing like him, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  Dennis nodded some more. “I’m sure you’re not. You’re the boy who got taken away, aren’t you? The one who was locked up with the pit bulls.”

  Forrester nodded. Dennis looked at him closely and then sighed.

  “Well, what can I do for you, Forrester Snow? You said you were a friend of Elle’s?”

  “Yes, sir. And I need to get into her apartment.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I need to check if she’s all right. Her ex has been harassing her. He might have taken her away.”

  “You know,” Dennis said, “I’m not supposed to let anyone in there.”

  “This is a matter of life and death,” Forrester said.

  Dennis nodded. “I don’t know about all that, but I can tell you’re trustworthy, son.” He dug into his pocket and came out with a set of keys. “It’s the silver one on the end. Have a look around, but don’t touch anything.”

  “Yes, sir,” Forrester said, hurrying back out to the street.

  He unlocked the door and called out Elle’s name. There was no answer. He climbed the stairs and took in everything. A bed, made neatly, a hearth with the ashes of a small fire, a coffee pot over the fire. On the desk was a journal, and Forrester looked at the open page. It was a quote from a writer.

  * * *

  It is better to be hated for what you are than loved for what you are not.

  * * *

  He looked at the words. He didn’t pick up the journal because he assumed it was private, but he read the words on the open page over and over to himself.

  That’s her, he thought. That’s who she is. That one sentence.

  He understood the words perfectly, and he knew that Elle did too. They were both cut from the same cloth. More than anything in the world, they each wanted to be loved. But only on their own terms. The only love that had any value, was the true love of someone who knew who they really were. Neither of them wanted to have to hide their past. Neither of them wanted to have to apologize for what they’d been through in their childhoods. They wanted to be loved, really and truly loved, for everything they were. No more and no less.

  He brought his fist down on the table.

  The sound shocked him.

  Gris had her.

  He knew it. Gris had taken he
r back. He wanted to put her back in her box. And Forrester wasn’t going to allow it. Elle had the right to chose her own life. She had the right to be the person she wanted to be. She had a right to be loved for who she was.

  Chapter 40

  Forrester

  Forrester went to his truck before leaving town. All his belongings had been thrown hastily onto the passenger seat by the hotel staff, on the sheriff’s orders. He put on a warm leather jacket, some leather gloves and his sunglasses. It wasn’t much to protect himself from the mountain cold but it would have to do.

  He got back on the bike and rode out of town without looking back. Elle was out there, somewhere, and he had to find her. He didn’t know much but he wouldn’t allow himself to fail. He’d seen Gris’s vehicle when it had rammed him from behind. It was a black Camaro. He sped down out of the mountains on the only road leading out of town, rounding the sharp corners much faster than was safe. All he could think about was reaching Gris before he got on the Interstate. If they reached the Interstate, he’d have to call Grant, Jackson and Grady. They had access to all sorts of data. He could give them Elle’s name, and Gris’s, and they’d pull up an address for him. He’d do that if it was necessary, but for now, all he could do was keep riding. With every passing second, he grew more and more afraid that he’d lose Elle. Every moment that she was away from him, that she was with Gris, was agony.

  He had to get her back. He had to make her safe.

  After all, he’d told her she was going to have his baby.

  About forty miles down the mountain road there was a gas station and he pulled into it. He needed to fill up. He also needed to warm up.

  An attendant came out and asked him what he needed.

  “Fill her up,” Forrester said.

  “Ain’t it a little cold to be riding a bike?”

  “It is,” Forrester said, rubbing his hands together. “You got coffee in the store?”

  “Sure do,” the attendant said. “You go on in and pour yourself a cup. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Forrester didn’t need to be told twice. He went into the store and found the coffee pot and poured himself a big cup. Then he sat at the counter and grabbed a pack of jerky and started eating it.

  The attendant came back and rang up the gas.

  “You rode all the way down from Stone Peak?” he said.

  “Yes, sir,” Forrester said.

  “How was the weather up there?”

  “Probably a little colder than down here.”

  The attendant nodded, rang up the coffee and jerky, and gave Forrester the bill. Forrester paid and continued sipping his coffee.

  “How far to the interstate?” he said.

  “Just another thirty miles or so,” the attendant said.

  “You got a phone?”

  “Sure, there’s a payphone over there in the corner.”

  Forrester checked his pocket for change and asked the attendant to break a five dollar bill. Then he went to the phone and dialed the number for home.

  Lacey picked up.

  “Forrester, where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to contact you.”

  “I just got into something, Lacey.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m always all right,” he said, and he rubbed a hand over the bandaged ribs. They hurt like hell.

  “Well, I’m glad to hear from you. Jackson and Grant were going to come out there tomorrow if we didn’t hear from you.”

  “No need, Lacey. I’m fine.”

  “You’ve met a girl, haven’t you?”

  “I may have. I just need to find her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Her ex forced her to go with him.”

  “Her ex? You mean she didn’t want to go with him?”

  “Yeah, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, apparently.”

  “Are you sure this girl didn’t choose to go with him?”

  Forrester smiled. “I’m sure,” he said. “This is the real deal, Lacey. This girl belongs with me.”

  “So how are you going to find her?”

  “You got a pen?”

  “Sure.”

  “Take this down. Elle Barclay, twenty-three years old. And Gris something. I don’t know his second name. He’s about thirty.”

  “I’ve got it.”

  “Get Grant to run that through the system. I’ll call back in a couple of hours and he can give me the address.”

  “Be careful, Forrester.”

  “I will, Lacey.”

  “We all love you, you know.”

  Forrester held the receiver to his face for a moment, pressing it against his cheek. “I know, Lacey.”

  He hung up and went back to the attendant. “You didn’t happen to see a black Camaro come through here, by any chance, did you?”

  The attendant looked up at him. “As a matter of fact I did. They parked outside for the night. I saw them there when I closed up for the night, and I saw them there this morning too.”

  “They slept in the car?”

  “Far as I could tell.”

  “Did you talk to them?”

  “Nope. I don’t mind people parking for the night. If you’re tired you’ve got to get off the road. And they didn’t come in for gas. They pulled off a little while ago.”

  “Heading toward the Interstate?”

  “Yes, sir,” the attendant said.

  Forrester put another ten dollars on the counter as a thank you for the information, and left.

  Chapter 41

  Elle

  Elle wasn’t sure why she kept looking in the rearview mirror. Was she hoping Forrester would come? It was impossible. He’d been locked up when they’d left last night. He was probably still locked up now.

  But when she saw a motorcycle approaching from behind, she held her breath. She knew it was foolish. There was no way it was Forrester. But she watched it like a hawk as it inched closer and closer in the mirror.

  “Where’s this guy going?” Gris said, when he saw the rider coming up behind them.

  “He’s in a hurry,” Elle said, trying not to show her emotions.

  Then, when the bike came up alongside them, she knew she’d been right. It was Forrester. He waved his arm, indicating for Gris to pull over.

  “What the fuck?” Gris said.

  “Gris, pull over. It’s for me.”

  “The fuck I will.”

  “It’s Forrester, Gris,” Elle said, the happiness in her voice so obvious she couldn’t hide it. “He came for me. He actually came for me.”

  “He didn’t get you back yet.”

  Elle was stunned. Forrester had actually come for her. She peered out through the front windshield. Forrester was in front of them now, and was slowing down, forcing Gris to come to a stop. Gris tried to go around but Forrester blocked him. Gris revved the engine but stopped short of ramming the bike.

  “Gris, you know you have to let me go, right?”

  Gris shook his head. “I can’t, Elle. I can’t live without you.”

  “Yes you can, Gris.”

  Gris brought the car to a stop and then reached into the glove box in front of Elle’s legs. He pulled out a black handgun. Elle gasped. She tried to stop him but he put his hand on her throat and began to squeeze.

  Elle couldn’t breath. Her eyes filled with tears. She was being choked so hard that she could feel her throat collapse under the pressure of Gris’s grip. She tried to speak, to beg him to stop, but she couldn’t make a sound.

  “If I can’t have you, no one can have you,” Gris said, and there was an anger in his eyes she’d never seen before.

  And then there was a smashing sound. The entire windshield fell in on them in a million pieces. Gris released his grip of her neck and she gasped for air. Then she saw what had happened. Forrester had picked up the motorcycle, which must have weighed hundreds of pounds, and flung it through the windshield. Through the smashed glass she could see him standing there on th
e side of the road, holding himself up against the guardrail.

  “That’s it, fucko,” Gris said, climbing out of the car through the broken windshield, the gun firmly in his hand. “You’re going to pay. You’re going to pay for ruining my life. For stealing my girl. She was my girl. She was always mine.”

  “She was never yours, Gris. You just thought she was.”

  “So she’s yours?” Gris said.

  “She’s no one’s,” Forrester said. “Unless she wants to be. But I can tell you this. I’m hers. And I’m not going to let you hurt her ever again.”

  Forrester was obviously still injured from everything that had happened to him in the jail, but Elle watched as he moved toward Gris. Gris strode toward him powerfully. When they met, Gris swung his pistol at Forrester’s face. Forrester blocked it, and threw a punch into Gris’s abdomen. Gris stepped back, surprised that Forrester could still fight, and then drew the weapon. Forrester stopped in his tracks.

  “What’s stopping me from pulling this trigger, right now?” Gris said.

  “No,” Elle cried, but the men didn’t hear her. Her voice was still weak from being choked. “No,” she tried again, but her voice was barely audible.

  “You’re not going to pull the trigger,” Forrester said.

  “And why’s that?” Gris snarled back at him.

  “Because you know it wasn’t me that ruined your life. You know it wasn’t Elle either. I couldn’t steal her from you because you never owned her. A man never owns a woman. He just borrows her from God, and looks after her on behalf of God.”

  “Where do you get this shit, fucko?”

  “You know it’s true, Gris.”

  “The hell I do.”

  “A woman is like an angel in our life. Without them, everything’s cold and hard and empty. I know it. I learned it in my father’s basement as a child. You know it too, Gris.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “She was never yours. And you can’t keep her after she wants to leave. She was in your life for a period of time, and you should cherish that time. You should cherish the memory of it. Because I bet she was a million times better than what you deserved. I bet she brought nothing but joy and love into your life. I bet she gave you happiness, and warmth, and love.”

 

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