Our Last Road

by London Casey

  “I know,” I whispered. “It matches up, Sawyer.”

  “Jesus Christ, darling,” he said. “I left when you were…”

  “Just come inside, Sawyer,” I said. “Please.”

  I walked to the door and unlocked it.

  We entered the apartment and I went to make some coffee.

  He just stood there, arms crossed, waiting for me to answer his question.

  I rinsed out the coffeepot of that morning’s coffee and refilled it. I dumped the coffee grounds and scooped fresh ones.

  “Kate,” Sawyer growled. “Don’t do this to me. Don’t fucking hide from me right now.”

  I slammed the top of the coffeemaker and turned. My hand grabbed the spoon I had used to scoop the coffee and I threw it at Sawyer.

  It hit him in the chest and fell to the floor. He crouched and picked it up, walking it to the table. He put his hands to the table and looked at me. He started to nod.

  “What?” I asked as the smell of coffee started to linger in the air.

  “You don’t answer me and my mind is going to do its thing.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning you don’t want to tell me that the kid isn’t mine. Meaning you don’t want to tell me that… you had a thing. You and Tate had a kid. What is it?”

  “Fuck you, Sawyer,” I spat. “That’s where you go? The first thing you think is that I’d jump into bed with someone? And Tate? You’re out of your mind.”

  “My lingering image of you and him is you touching his face,” he said. “You didn’t come looking for me that night, darling.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t. Because I hated you, Sawyer. For everything that happened.”

  “Two way street, Kate,” he said. “Two hearts got crushed.”

  “One is still crushed,” I said in a shaky voice.

  Sawyer moved from the table and closed in on me. “And you think mine isn’t?”

  “I don’t know what I think anymore, Sawyer.”

  “I came here last night to see you. I wanted to talk to you. Hear your voice. And, yes, maybe I wanted to steal a kiss or two. Just to taste you again. Because nothing in my life ever tasted so good. And as I’m standing there, feeling all those familiar spots on your body. The way you kiss me back. The intentions in my heart. A kid appears and calls you Mommy…”

  “Sawyer, believe me, I didn’t mean for you to find out that way.”

  “I’m sure. You still haven’t answered my question, darling.”

  I looked up into his eyes. I swallowed another lump back down my throat. “Are you really still crushed because of us?”

  “I’m an outlaw riding a road that never ends, waiting for one more chance to look into your eyes because it’s the only place I feel home.”

  I looked down. I reached back for the counter to keep myself from falling in more ways than one.

  “Fine,” I whispered. “Sit down, Sawyer. I want to show you something.”

  4.

  I wanted to trust Sawyer and in some ways, I already did. There was something about him, so instant, that made me confused and hurt at the same time. There was plenty to talk about, plenty to really show him, but I watched as he took a seat in a chair.

  He was nervous.

  He was worried about Jason.

  His mind trying to add up the dates. Assuming Jason’s age. Assuming the time he took off and left me stranded. And while he asked me if Jason was his son, what he really wanted to ask me was if Tate was Jason’s father. That was the question of the century for Sawyer. Because somewhere he always thought it was destined to happen between me and Tate.

  “Do you want a cup of coffee, Sawyer?” I asked.

  “Depends on what you’re going to show me. I might need a stiff drink.”

  “No,” I said. “I actually have a day off work today. But I still have to get Jason from school.”

  “School?”

  “Pre-k. He goes a few days a week. Next year he’ll do the same and then be ready to go to kindergarten. It’s more of a glorified daycare right now, but it’s really nice. He has friends. The teachers love him. I get to go there when I have time and draw pictures for the kids. Or try and teach the kids how to draw.”

  “Wait a second,” Sawyer said. He pointed at me. “You teach kids how to draw?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I never thought I would see that day.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You have no patience, darling.”

  “Excuse me? I have no patience? Am I not raising a kid on my own? Doing everything I can to provide on my own?”

  Sawyer smirked. “That’s different.”

  “Oh, right. Because you know all about that stuff, don’t you?”

  “Thought you had something to show me,” Sawyer said.

  “No. Not yet.” I stepped closer to the table and put one hand on it and pointed at Sawyer. “You know, I have job offers out there. Tate all but begs me to work at the shop. And my friend Maggie…”

  “Why don’t you work at St. Skin? You’d be great.”

  “Tattooing? Honestly?”

  “You could learn. Or at least work there in some capacity. Instead of slinging food around a diner.”

  “See, that’s the reason why. I’m not someone’s favor. I’m not a giant ball of pity. Okay? I’m going to survive on my own terms.”

  “Stubborn,” Sawyer whispered. “No patience. But as beautiful as ever.”

  “Spare me,” I said, pushing from the table.

  “You’re a fool, Kate,” Sawyer said. “You have a kid to raise and you’re being stubborn about getting help.”

  “Because it’s so easy to accept help in this town,” I said. “So, okay, fine, let’s play this out, Sawyer. I take help from Tate. I go to work at St. Skin. Then what? The rumors start. The whispers echoing louder than actual words. Everyone wanting to know about me. About him. About Jason. That kid is as innocent as they come and he’s got a long life of truths coming his way. And then there’s… you.”

  “Me?” Sawyer asked.

  “Yeah. Look at you. You come right back to town and try to pick up where things left off. And the first fucking thing you worry about is Tate. You’re jealous of him.”

  Those last four words slipped off my tongue. But you know what? They felt good to say. Because it was true.

  Sawyer stood up from the table. He turned his head and inched back, fully turning to face the coffeemaker. He opened the cabinet above and took out two mugs. They clanked together as I stood with my heart in my throat. I worried the wrong thing would make Sawyer leave, but at some point, he had to come to terms with reality. And with the truth. Barging into my life wasn’t going to give him a sense of power over me. I had too much to protect and too much to lose. I wasn’t the same Kate anymore. I wasn’t going to chase him down a dark alley, running from the local cops, waiting to have him find some secret spot so we could find new places to explore on each other.

  I watched him prepare my coffee.

  Exactly how I wanted it.

  My mind instantly flashed to a few times Tate spent the night. He slept on the couch, of course. But times when I needed someone to be there for me who truly understood everything. Those next mornings were never awkward with Tate, but he always had to ask me how I wanted my coffee.

  Not Sawyer.

  Years later and he walked the mug to me, and I could tell by the smell and color it was going to be perfect.

  I hate you, Sawyer. I hate you.

  My eyes locked with his but I didn’t say the words.

  “Jealous of him,” he whispered. “I could say a lot to that, Kate. But I won’t. I won’t play the blame game. I won’t play the victim either. All I can say is that I’m standing here because I care. Maybe what I thought I saw and what reality was all those years ago was wrong. But the truth is that my mind hasn’t slowed for a second and after seeing that kid, I don’t know what to think. I don’t want to think anything, da
rling. Which is why I’m here. Now, if you don’t want to talk about it, fine. But if that kid is mine, I have a right to know. I have a right to digest that. I have a right to figure that out. I was going to pour myself a coffee but I think I’ll skip it. You said it’s your day off. Go enjoy it. I need to find a place to live anyway. Crashing with Tate isn’t going to work for long.”

  “You’re staying with Tate?”

  “Yeah. We worked things out, remember?” Sawyer pointed to his face.

  Right. They worked things out. Like the guys from St. Skin always did. With their fists. They never just talked and opened their hearts. Wild idiots.

  “Right,” I whispered. “Sawyer…”

  “You keep hesitating,” he said.

  “It’s not what you think,” I said.

  “Of course not. I don’t know what the hell to think anymore. I was away for years, darling, but I never really left. I opened my own shop. I hired two guys. I barely got to know them. They barely got to know me. I didn’t exist there, Kate. My heart was still here in Hundred Falls Valley and St. Skin. You can think what you want about me, but someday, we should at least talk about it. Everything that happened. Everything that deserves to happen now.”

  He slowly reached up and touched my face.

  He leaned forward and looked down. Our foreheads touched for a second and I caught myself shutting my eyes, wanting to sink into him. Wanting to tell him everything.

  “I’m going to leave,” he whispered. “But I just need to know one thing, darling.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “That kid… Jason… is he mine?”

  I had to tell him the truth. I stepped back. I swallowed hard. “No… he’s not your son.”

  THIRTEEN

  SAWYER

  1.

  “Pecker, when can we change your name?”

  He brought me another beer and laughed. “As long as you keep leaving me money, you call me whatever you want, Saint.”

  “I haven’t heard someone actually call me that in a long time, Pecker. Well, not since I came back to town.”

  “Well, I haven’t heard someone call me my real name in a long time. I don’t even know what the hell my name is. Now pay me for that beer.”

  “Easy, man,” I said. I reached into my pocket. “Damn. You’re vicious in your old age.”

  “Years of dealing with your friends will do that to a man.”

  “I wish I could apologize for that.”

  “Just don’t get into a fight.”

  “Now, why would I get into a fight?” I asked with a grin.

  “Last time I remember you punched Tate. Right over there.” Pecker pointed to the opposite end of the bar. “And on top of that, Dirt and his buddies are here. They always love a good fight with the St. Skin guys.”

  “I'm going to park my ass right here for a few drinks and then disappear.”

  “The Saint special.”

  “Thanks for that.”

  Pecker laughed again. He grabbed a towel off his shoulder and started to wipe the bar. “What are you doing here? Not just in the bar, but back in town.”

  “It was time.”

  “Right. And you’re here drinking instead of spending time with Kate.”

  “Jesus,” I said. “I almost forgot how this entire town knows everyone’s shit.”

  “Hey, this bar is basically a giant confessional booth. No need for penance though. You just keep drinking until the pain goes away and the words flow smooth.”

  “Should I call you Father?” I asked with a wink.

  “Just keep drinking, My Son,” Pecker said.

  I laughed. “I’m here because I’m here, Pecker. Okay?”

  “You went to see her and met Jason, didn’t you?”

  I gritted my teeth for a second. “Something like that.”

  “She talk to you about it?”

  “Not really.”

  “That’s where I have to keep my mouth shut,” Pecker said.

  “Yeah, sure,” I said. “I would hate to put you in a tough position.” I took out a twenty and put it on the counter. “Unless…”

  Pecker slapped his hand to the twenty and took it. “Bribing a bartender? That’s pretty low. It won’t work. But, hey, I can put this toward the tab you never paid when you left.”

  “I had a tab?” I asked.

  “Fuck off, Saint. You know you had a tab. You’re lucky I let you come in and drink without paying it.”

  “Why did you?”

  “I wanted to hear why you were back. Nothing interesting though.”

  “Well, maybe that can change,” I said.

  “How so?”

  I grinned. I pointed. “Tate just walked in.”

  “Okay,” Pecker said. He looked at Tate. Then at me. His face dropped. “Ah, shit. You two…”

  I stood up from the barstool and cracked my knuckles. “Maybe you should call the police in advance, Pecker.”

  2.

  I was just messing with Pecker. But what I did find interesting was the way Tate looked at Dirt. Now, I remembered Dirt from way back in the day. He was a complete loser and I didn’t understand the deal with him and St. Skin.

  When Tate came over to me, he offered a hand to shake but I declined. Instead, I had Pecker use that twenty he took from me to get Tate a drink.

  Tate slid onto a barstool with a cocky attitude while I just stood there. There wasn’t a minute that didn’t go by that I didn’t have the urge to punch him in the face again.

  “I have a lot to ask you,” I said.

  “I’m sure you do,” Tate said.

  “She’s got a fucking kid.”

  Tate nodded. He grabbed his beer and took a big gulp. He slowly put it down and looked over at me.

  “What do you want me to say right now?” he asked.

  “I don’t exactly know.”

  “You should talk to her.”

  “I did,” I said. “She was hesitant so I left.”

  “You left?”

  “I’m trying this thing where I respect people’s feelings.”

  “Holy shit,” Tate said. “Where did your balls go?”

  “Fuck yourself, Tate,” I said. “You know everything, don’t you?”

  “To be fair here, Sawyer, I didn’t leave.”

  I gritted my teeth again and turned my head. I saw Pecker behind the bar. He stood with the towel over his shoulder and I noticed he was holding a baseball bat in his other hand.

  He raised an eyebrow as a warning.

  That’s when I took a seat next to Tate.

  I looked around the bar. My eyes stopped at the spots where we had been sitting the night I left. Maddox, River, me, Tate. And a few seats away sat Kate. Purposely there just to piss me off. Just to fuck with my heart. Looking so beautiful and casually looking around as though she was waiting for someone to meet her. Just to step on my heart a little more.

  “What’s the deal with Dirt?” I asked.

  “He’s an asshole.”

  “I know that, Tate. But what’s the deal with him and St. Skin?”

  “Old standing demons,” Tate said. “He’s got a problem with us. Jealous because he has no talent. And I’m pretty sure Prick fucked his girlfriend.”

  “Prick likes to fuck anything with two legs and a-”

  “Yeah,” Tate said. “He traded one addiction for another.”

  “Women can still kill you though.”

  “Cheers to that,” Tate said. He slid his beer glass toward mine.

  I lifted my glass and ignored Tate for a second.

  I licked my lips after the drink and sighed. “Look, brother, I don’t care how much time this all takes to work things out. Between us. With the shop. Whatever happens, it happens. But this shit with Kate…”

  “You think I fucked her,” Tate said boldly. “Just admit it, Sawyer. You think I fucked her back then. You think I fucked her while you were gone. You let that shit into your brain like a disease and it’ll never
let go.”

  “What do you want me to think, Tate?”

  He looked at me. “You know, Sawyer, she cried in my arms. A lot. And there were times when she would look up at me. Her eyes big, glossy from the tears. I could smell her breath. I could feel her so vulnerable. So desperate. I felt my body… shit, brother, the things that ran through my head. The look in her eyes. What she wanted from me. Fuck, what she needed from me. And then I’d lean down… just enough… the tips of our noses…”

  I jumped up and grabbed my beer glass. I turned and threw it against the wall. It exploded.

  Pecker charged to the end of the bar in a second and slammed the baseball bat down. That got my attention and he lifted it up and pointed it right at me.

  “It’s okay,” Tate said. “Pecker, it’s good. It’s all good here.” Tate reached into his pocket and took out some money. “Get him another drink. On me.”

  The anger boiled inside me.

  Tate turned to look at me. “That’s what you want me to say, right?”

  I didn’t respond.

  “That’s what I thought,” he said.

  Pecker put a fresh beer on the bar. “You need to sit down, Saint. Don’t make me toss you out.”

  “Did it happen?” I asked Tate, ignoring Pecker.

  “I don’t owe you or anyone an explanation,” Tate said.

  “You’re fucking pushing it,” I said.

  “I think you’re right on a few things,” Tate said.

  “What?”

  “The expansion stuff. For the shop.”

  “Changing the subject, huh?”

  Tate grinned. “Look, Sawyer, you need to figure your shit out with Kate on your own. I’m not getting involved. I was there when you weren’t. That’s all I can say.”

  “And now she has a kid,” I said. “A kid that’s not mine.”

  Tate slowly nodded. “She told you that?”

  “Yeah. I needed to at least know that.”

  “Well, I’m glad she told you that. Now, about the shop…”

  “Fuck the shop,” I said.

  Tate laughed. “Knew you’d say that.” Tate stood up. “Tell you what, Sawyer. I’ll tell you what you’re dying to know. But first, you need to blow off some steam.”