“Scoot closer to me,” he yelled. I did, and then we were off.
The roar of the exhaust pipes was deafening. Ari’s sunglasses covered my eyes completely and masked as my eyes moved in all directions, watching things as we went by—watching for anything that would make my racing heart go faster. I was hoping to catch a visual of Beck. That would calm me.
There was no doubt I would be talking to Ari about wearing a helmet. None of them wore them. And though in the 12 short hours I’d known them, I’d come to love them too, it was Ari I wanted wearing one the most.
When we pulled into the pub, I held my breath. In a few moments I would know if we had been followed. Rock brought the bike to a stop, then stood, balancing the bike between his legs. What was he waiting for? We hadn’t rehearsed this part. I panicked. Instinctively, I leaned up and kissed his ear.
He cocked his head and cast a sideways glance my way.
“Am I supposed to get off?” I asked, before sitting back down.
He gave me a quick nod, so I quickly stood on the peg and heaved my leg over the bike, finding stable footing. With a swift tug, my body heaved up next to his as he brushed a kiss roughly over my forehead. Hand in hand we walked inside the bar with the others following behind.
We sat at a high-top table. No one said anything yet. As anxious as I was, I waited with the rest of them. Rock squeezed my hand, so I looked at him.
“This is where the other smaller package will come. Someone will pick it up here.”
Beck. He meant Beck.
“Ok,” I said softly.
His phone vibrated on the table and he opened it, put it to his ear and hung up without saying a word. He held the attention of the entire table.
“Stage 2 is a go. Duckie. You’re headed back to help at the house. Dano and Two will follow me for another leg, then they will return to ride out with you.”
Duckie agreed with a nod. Every sound in the bar drew my attention. The men shouting for the Broncos in the corner, the swishing of the kitchen door as it opened and closed, even the sound of the darts as two men threw at the lit board.
Rock’s phone vibrated again. Same routine. He answered without so much as a hi, listened, then hung up.
“They’re back home from the walk. No incidents.”
Relief flowed through me as I thought about Beck being back under our roof. The gaping hole of losing Ian opened freely when the fear of losing Beck crept into my heart. But operating strictly in survival mode, I smashed a Band-Aid over the pain and pushed on.
Duckie got to his feet, saluted the group, nodded at me, then walked out. The next time I saw him, he’d be bringing Beck to me. After a beer, some awful country music and waitresses eyeing me from head to toe in this ugly red halter, Rock took my hand and led me back outside.
By the time we got back on the road, the blaring sunshine beat down on us. As our elevation increased, so did the sun’s rays. We were moving at a fairly good clip, and I couldn’t help but notice that Rock kept checking the side mirrors. As much as I should have enjoyed the beauty and all that I loved about Colorado, Beck was at the forefront of every thought.
Bert’s Tavern sat off to the left of the highway. I didn’t know who Bert was, but the place was a shithole. Of course, we pulled in. Rock and I acted out the same ritual with getting off the bike. This time, as he tugged me next to him, my inner thighs and ass were on fire from the bike seat.
“I’m not sure I can walk,” I groaned, earning a wide grin from Rock. “No, really!”
A small sign on the door read: We only look nice, and for the first time, I laughed on this trip. Rock’s expression shifted to one of shock.
“Laughter sounds good coming out of you, Mela.”
His hand took mine and directed me to a small booth. Dano and Two followed us and sat across the table. The bar reeked of smoke, and a low fog settled over the room that wouldn’t likely ever go away.
Rock studied his phone for a long minute.
“Is everything ok?” I asked. My breasts were full. My pump was in the saddlebag of Rock’s bike.
“Yep. Duckie made it back. They’re leaving at daylight. I need to call your sister.”
Before he slid out of the booth, I grabbed his bicep. “What’s wrong?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Duck said she’s crying. She doesn’t cry, ever.”
As he walked away from the table with his head down, it was clear to me how much Ari meant to Rock. His shoulders were heavy with anticipation.
“Guys, I need to get something out of Rock’s saddlebag.”
They both nodded as I excused myself from the booth.
In the grossest most disgusting bathroom I’d ever seen, I lifted my t-shirt and attached the pump to my breast. I stood there holding everything in my lap because I refused to set a single thing down. Sweat trickled down my back, between my breasts and over my temples.
Suddenly, the old wood door flew open, slamming against the rickety wall. Rock’s wide eyes found me then his Adam’s apple jutted out and back in as he whirled around.
“I…I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “I didn’t know where you were. Don’t leave without telling me. Understood?”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
Still facing the other way, he whispered, “Mela, where will we keep that?”
Was he talking about the breast milk? My wallet and the pump were the only two things I had brought with me…the two things I needed. Honestly, we never discussed it or the length of the trip.
“I don’t know,” I whispered. My voice trembled. My weaknesses… my fears... annoyed even me.
“Mela. You have to tell me when you will be out of my sight.” His words were terse. “I’ll see if I can find a place to keep that.” As quick as that he was out the door.
When I saw the amount of milk in the bottle after a fifteen-minute pump, my freaking tears burst their dams. I knew what was happening. After the stint in the hospital…and now this…I was drying up. I’d gone too long without nursing, without pumping and my one connection to Beck was going to be gone. From this point forward, anyone could feed him. Anyone could shove a bottle in his mouth and provide nourishment. A feeling of inadequacy and…failure…shook tremors through my body as I slid down the filthy wall to the floor. The small amount of breast milk in the bottle spilt to the floor as I dropped it.
I remembered a time on the playground when I was eleven. Ari and I were in separate classes back in Columbia, but our recess was at the same time. She wouldn’t just play on the monkey bars like normal—she had to scale the monkey bars, then walk across the top. And the one time I’d mustered up the courage to follow suit, I plummeted to the ground, a pillow of dirt bellowing out around me—as the oxygen was robbed from my lungs. There are those moments in your life that you will always remember…where you were, how you felt…what you were doing.
This was one of those moments. As I sucked in an involuntary breath for my desperate cry, my lungs fought for air just like they had when I was eleven, laying in the dirt. A garish howl ripped up my throat as my butt settled on the gritty, disgusting floor. Instinctively, my thighs slammed into my chest as my forehead came to rest on my knees. My husband was dead. My salvation…my lifeline… gone. There hadn’t even been a goodbye—only…a whispered “Mela” as he lay dying. With my sleeve, I swiped at the mixture of tears and snot running from my nose. Somewhere in the back of my brain, I heard the door and the heavy footsteps.
“Jesus.”
An instant later, I lay cradled in Rock’s arm as he carried me away from the heap of loss. Before the restroom door slammed closed, I saw my pump with empty bottles lying next to it on the floor, which is where they would remain. I didn’t need them.
“Rock?”
“Change of plans. The third leg isn’t gonna happen tonight. Use cash and get a hotel. Now.”
The screech of chair legs brought my eyes wide. I fought to find the fetal position, and Rock slid into the booth with me in his arm
s. I don’t know how long we sat there. I’d officially lost my mind. Somewhere in my head it registered that we had left the bar, driven to a hotel and Rock had carried me inside.
“Ari,” I heard him whisper as my eyes fluttered open. “She needs a doctor. She’s out of it.”
The odd thing was, I knew I was out of it. I knew I was unresponsive.
“I think it may be shock. I’m drawing some water now so she can take a bath.” With the long pause I closed my eyes. “Ok. I will.”
I heard Rock’s phone slide smoothly across the table. When he came toward me, I knew it was time to get undressed.
“Mela. I have bath water drawn.” He spoke slowly, articulating every word. “Your clothes are dirty from that bathroom floor. Can you get undressed?”
The deliberate blink of my eyelids over my dry eyes was almost painful. When my eyes flitted to his, I saw only concern. He released a long, measured breath.
“I can do it,” I whispered. A swallow got stuck somewhere in my throat.
My knees popped as I straightened my legs, heaving myself up from the chair. As I padded past Rock, he grabbed my wrist.
“Does Ari know about this?” he huffed.
I glanced around unsure what he was referring to, but when he didn’t let go, my eyes fell first to the scars on my wrist, then to the floor. I’d never told the story to anyone but Ian.
“Does she?” his voice rose.
I shook my head. “No. Please don’t tell her.”
The flare of his nostrils pretty much let me know how he felt.
“Why?” he asked, his tone somewhere between a plea and a growl.
“I don’t want her to be disappointed in me.”
“Why did you do it?”
“What difference does it make?”
“Why?” His fist slammed down on the table between the two chairs, and my entire body flinched.
Frantically, I shook my head, not wanting to recall the memories that were trying to invade my brain.
“Rock…I…”
“What happened, Mela?”
Ian’s voice echoed in my head. Don’t be ashamed. It’s part of who you are. If you didn’t have those scars, I wouldn’t have you. Something wonderful came out of something bad.”
I took a deep breath and started. “At a certain point, I had to distance myself from her. She was caught up in her own world. I’m not sure she even noticed.” My words grew softer, so I cleared my throat, continuing to think about Ian’s words. “After I graduated with my master’s, I went to work on this youth ranch for troubled teens. I had so many student loans to pay off. It was good money. It was perfect. I taught them music and singing. We were outside of Mesa Verde and no one knew a thing about Ari. It was just me…doing musical therapy for these kids that had their own struggles.”
Surprisingly, Rock watched me intently, hanging on every word. He nodded once—maybe silent encouragement to go on.
“Ari was always the one with all the friends. I was the quiet twin. Anyway, some of us from the ranch went into town for a night out. There was a group of guys that thought I was Ari. I knew it was happening. I could see them on their phones, watching something, pointing at it, then staring over at me. I didn’t want my co-workers to know about it…about her. And that made me feel awful too. I was ashamed of her.”
A painful grimace shot across Rock’s face. No part of me wanted to hurt him.
“They somehow followed us that night. When my friends dropped me off at my place, I went inside. Wasn’t in there for more than two minutes when someone knocked at my door. I assumed it was my friends. I’d had a couple of drinks and wasn’t thinking. Opened the door.” I inhaled the slowest of breaths. Funny because my breath was stolen in that moment years ago…
Rock shot up and out of his chair. I tried measuring his response but couldn’t get a feel. Naturally, he would be protective of Ari. At the bathroom door, he banged his head on the metal doorframe.
“They hurt you?” he asked in a rough whisper.
“Yes. There were four of them. Two didn’t do anything. But the other two…” my words trailed off.
“Jesus, Mela.”
“I tried to tell them I wasn’t Ari. After all the years of her flaunting sex…I’d come to hate the thought of sex. Hate her. Two of them held me down. They didn’t actually rape me, though. One of them jacked off and came on me while he watched his friend finger me. They were smart enough not to…actually rape me.”
“Mela, that is still rape!”
“Please don’t tell her.”
“She has no idea, sweetheart. No idea what you’ve been through.”
“I don’t want her to know. It would kill her.”
Rock simply stared at me.
“I quit my job and ran. I could have called the police. I had one of the kid’s DNA splattered all over me. But…I told no one. I honestly felt like I’d never get away from what she’d created. She was so much bigger than I. So, I moved clear across the state. Three days in Ft. Collins and some guy recognized me in a grocery store.” I huffed out a cynical laugh. “I did it that night,” I said, holding up my wrists. “That’s how I met Ian.”
Rock disappeared into the bathroom. The water came on in the tub. When he came out, he bee-lined it for the door.
“The hot water is on, heating the water in the tub. I’ll be back in 3 minutes.”
The door didn’t slam, but it closed with intent. My story wasn’t a pleasant one…I knew that. And here I was running again. The scars inside and out had never really had a chance to heal before they seemed to open up again. I wanted to heal. I wanted to be done running.
Chapter 3
You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have. (Unknown)
When we turned into the cement drive of Rock’s mother’s house, I was shocked to see the enormity of it. The all-brick, multiple-story home was simply beautiful. Call it stereotype…call it whatever… I wouldn’t connect Rock to this sort of upbringing. Sadly, I had labeled him in my mind differently—I’d done the exact thing to Rock that others had done to me. I rested my forehead on his back, a silent, unspoken apology.
The mountain air was invigorating. That and Beck would make my world almost bearable. Three days of riding had left my muscles sore and my ass angry. There had been no activity back home, which meant the bitch was sitting and waiting to strike. No doubt her strike would be lethal.
After Rock killed the engine, the welcomed silence was quickly stolen when the front door opened, and an older woman scurried out to us.
“Hi, baby,” she, cooed extending her arms into the air.
“Momma,” Rock said, embracing her. “This is Mela.”
Her gentle eyes flickered to mine. She was the epitome of what a mother figure should look like. Her highlighted gray hair was pulled into a loose ponytail with strands falling freely around her face. The warm blue in her eyes matched the sky. And when she hugged me, she smelled of apples and happiness. I’d have guessed her to be about sixty.
“Welcome, sweetheart. You will add an exotic beauty to this home that it has been lacking.”
“Thank you…for helping,” I whispered.
Rock pointed to a small brick house off in the distance, back behind the big house, next to a silo.
“We call this the slammer.” Rock laughed.
“The slammer as in jail?”
He nodded and pointed at the house his mother lived in. “The big house.” Then he pointed back to the small one. “The slammer.” He winked. “Plus, every time she got pissed at daddy, he got sent out here.”
A hint of a smile pulled at my lips.
“It’s kind of like the penitentiary versus jail. At the pen, you stay for years. At the jail, it’s just a visit.”
I laughed a little. I’d not heard that sound out of myself for nearly a week.
“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need. But, if I were you, I’d get to lookin’ right away for a p
lace. Not sure how quick this woman will put all the pieces together—but they may track you down here if they connect me with your sister.”
Rock put what little I had on the chair in the corner. The house was small, but perfect. Quaint. Colorful. Bright. Charming. And though I was looking at pretties spit all over the room, all I could think about was the thought of bringing my fight to Rock’s mother’s doorstep.
“Rock?”
He gave me his full attention.
“I told you about my scars. How did you get yours?”
After my question, his fingers slid over the scar stretching down the length of his face as if he’d forgotten it was there.
“Sometimes, I forget I have it.” He walked out front, patting the seat next to him on the porch swing. Once he sat, I joined him.
“After Dee died, I went out and got drunk. I wanted to kill the drunk driver that killed her. And I did the very thing that he did. After I got hammered, I got on my bike. Ended up laying it down on the highway. Thank God, I only nearly killed myself. This scar reminds me of that. I haven’t had a drink since that night.”
I touched his leg, hoping to bring him a small measure of comfort.
“Ari is lucky,” I whispered.
“We all have scars, Mela. Mine are deeper inside than out. But, it’s about survival. It’s about moving on.”
I exhaled a deep breath out loud and nodded.
“I know I will. And I need you to know, I would never put your mother at risk. I’ll try to find something right away.”
By the time my bicep was in Rock’s hand, he held my full attention. Never once had he been aggressive, so I trusted he wouldn’t start now.
“Mela. My mother has an arsenal that could take on the United States military—all four branches at once.”
I smiled. There was no indication that he was joking as he stood, went back inside and opened the blinds so the big house was in my line of sight.
“She is going to teach you to shoot first thing in the morning. Maybe even today. When you leave here, you will be prepared to fight on your own. I’m leaving. I’m meeting Duckie tomorrow.”
Scars and Tats Page 4
