Craving Constellations

by Nicole Jacquelyn

  I was too small to sit, so I stood behind it as I beat on the drums the first time. Only my eyes and the top of my head showed over the set of toms, but it was love at first beat. It turned out that I had an affinity for percussion. I sat quietly while Harry explained what sound each piece made, and from then on, I was hooked. I was by no means some child prodigy, but I was good, really good. I played with them on Tuesdays and Thursdays for ten years. My skills improved rapidly, but steadily, over the years until one day I was as good as Harry. My recitals were club barbeques, and I had a captive audience of family every time I climbed on stage.

  I probably could have applied for a music scholarship when I went to college. Wayne had taught me to read music, and I could play anything he put in front of me, but I had been reluctant to turn something I loved to do into something I had to do. I’d been afraid it would take the magic away. I’d played at random barbeques I went to during college, but when I left the club, I never played again.

  It had been over five years since I played, and my fingers felt stiff and awkward at first, but within the first few beats of “Paradise City,” it was like I was reconnecting with an old friend. I sat behind the kit, the world around me fading away, as I played song after song with the men who’d taught me more about music than most people learn in their entire lifetime. I pounded my frustration and pain of the last five years into the drums, and by the time I was finished, my hair was sticking to my neck and the sides of my face with sweat.

  I stood up at the end of the set and met Pop’s eyes across the yard. The things I’d done, the pain I’d put him through, the frustration and the anger—none of that mattered. He still watched me with the same proud smile on his face that I’d seen when I was six years old, twirling around that dance studio. Those mamas, the ones who’d acted like I was trash? They had no idea the family I’d had growing up. They wouldn’t understand the support and love that surrounded me every day of my life. Pop may not have been the best man. He was the vice president of a motorcycle club, a killer, and a thief, but when he looked at me, all I saw was the man who’d loved me unconditionally from birth. Nothing would ever change him in my eyes.

  It wouldn’t be until a week later when I would see the part of my father that I’d been sheltered from, the man who had left Ireland under a cloud of suspicion and was welcomed into the club with open arms for a reason that only the old president had known.

  When I got done with my fifteen minutes of fame that turned into an hour of beating Harry’s drums with everything in me, Dragon was waiting. He stood at the edge of the stage, and my feet didn’t touch the grass before he hoisted my legs around his waist, and he was kissing me hard. Our breath was ragged when he lifted his head to the catcalls and whistles filling the air around us. The smile on his face was wide and bright, crinkling the corners of his eyes, and his dimple was just barely visible underneath his close-cropped beard.

  “That was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. Why didn’t you tell me you could do that?” he asked while kneading the cheeks of my ass with his hands.

  I just shrugged my shoulders. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve been playing since I was six.”

  “No wonder you and Trix dance like you do. You’re fucking drumming with your feet!” He laughed in my face.

  “What do you mean?” I asked him, confused.

  “When I watched you guys dancing in the kitchen, your feet were fuckin’ pounding the floor with the beat of the music!”

  My face got hot.

  “You didn’t know you did that?” He laughed again at my embarrassment.

  “Ah, no. I don’t do it on purpose. I’ve never noticed,” I told him.

  “Well, it’s cute as fuck, and Trix does it, too. That girl can keep a beat like no kid I’ve ever seen,” he replied with a proud smile on his face.

  He started walking through the crowd where shouts of vulgar suggestions were made to our retreating backs, but Dragon never put me down. When we made our way around the corner, he pressed me up against the wall of the building and kissed me again, his hands roaming my body.

  “You’re gonna keep a beat for me tonight, yeah?” he whispered in my ear, biting the lobe gently.

  I wasn’t sure exactly what he was talking about, but it didn’t matter. Anything he asked of me in that tone of voice, I’d give him.

  We walked home after the sky had grown dark, and Trix had finally fallen asleep, sticky and covered in dirt, sitting on Dragon’s lap. Neither of us were drunk, but we were feeling the effects of the whiskey and beer we’d drunk. I hadn’t had more than a glass of wine since the night Trix was conceived, and I was giddy with it.

  When we got into the house, Dragon turned to me, “Get undressed, Brenna. Gonna put Trix in bed. Want you naked when I get to you.”

  Then, he walked quietly down the hallway toward Trix’s room as I locked up the house. I raced into the room, flinging clothes off, with a desperation that bordered on ridiculousness. When I was finally naked, I lay down on the bed and waited as I heard him walk toward the front of the house. He came back, carrying a kitchen chair and my iPod dock, causing me to sit up in surprise.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, my face creased in confusion.

  He didn’t answer me, but he went around the side of the bed and plugged in the dock. Then, he set the chair at the end of the bed and locked the door before sitting down and grabbing the neck of his shirt to drag it off.

  “Only set up two songs, but I figure I won’t make it much longer than that.” He looked at me, his nostrils flaring, and he finally told me what was going on. “Get down here and dance for me, Brenna.”

  “Uh, dance for you?” I asked nervously.

  I wasn’t a stripper. I didn’t know any sexy dance moves. I could just envision myself trying to be sexy and ending up looking like the kid from Napoleon Dynamite.

  “Baby, you’ll do fine,” he told me, correctly interpreting the look on my face. “Come ’ere.”

  I climbed off the bed and went to stand in front of him as the beginning strains of Awolnation’s “Sail” filled the room. I felt my breathing grow heavy as I remembered the song’s thumping rhythm. He grabbed my waist gently and pulled me so that my thighs were straddling his.

  “Not much to it, baby. I want a lap dance. All you need to do is move with the beat and use your imagination. You know what I like.”

  I stood there awkwardly until he pulled me down, grinding his jean-clad hips into my bare ones.

  “Come on, baby. Don’t you wanna show off for your man?” he asked me on a thrust. “Give it to me.”

  It didn’t take long for the beat of the music to release my inhibitions. I was using my hips with the rhythm of the song, his hands roaming my body, touching anything he could reach. I ran my fingers through his hair and then dragged my nails lightly down his chest, bending my head down once to take a nipple into my mouth. He made a sound low in his throat and dragged my head up to meet his, so he could kiss me deep, but my hips never lost rhythm. The kiss was enough to have him unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans as I writhed above him.

  When the song transitioned from “Sail” to “Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons, he was already inside me. I moved with the beat of the music, my eyes never leaving his, as I ran my hands over my breasts and up into my hair. When my hands rose above my head and my back bowed, I thought he was going to have a heart attack. We didn’t last long after that.

  We lay in the bed hours later, neither of us ready for sleep.

  “We’ll get this shit taken care of, Brenna. Don’t worry. If I’m not here, Poet and Vera will help you take care of things. Our lawyer’s a douche, but he knows what the fuck he’s doing,” he told me quietly.

  “What!” I raised myself up on my elbow, alarmed. “Why wouldn’t you be here?”

  “You know how Slider is. He’s not gonna be easy on me just ’cause we got family shit. Got runs to make…can’t be sittin’ at home forever,” he told me like it was no
big deal.

  “Well, maybe he’ll be cool. He knows all of the shit that’s going on. Come on, I’m his goddaughter. He’s not going to send my man out when I need him here,” I told him logically.

  He grunted. “Not your plaything, Brenna. I’m a brother. I do my job, and I’m good at it. I’m not takin’ favors from the boss because I’m fuckin’ his goddaughter.”

  “That’s a shitty thing to say,” I groused.

  “True, ain’t it? Just fucked you twice in the last two hours.” He sounded annoyed.

  “You could have said you were ‘with me’ or something. You don’t have to talk like I’m a piece of ass.” I was getting more annoyed by the minute.

  “Brenna, I’m gonna say whatever the fuck I want. Not sugarcoating shit, so you don’t get your panties in a twist. I ever treat you like a piece of ass?”

  “No,” I grumbled.

  “Then, don’t put words into my mouth.” He shook his head in frustration. “How the fuck did we even get on this conversation? You’re fuckin’ crazy, you know that?”

  He sounded baffled, and I giggled into his chest. He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me on top of him, so my arms were crossed, resting on his chest, with my chin leaning on my forearms, our entire bodies aligned to our toes.

  “You do what I say,” he ordered me gently. “If I’m not here, you lean on your pop and Vera. We’ll get it taken care of. You gotta trust me, baby.”

  I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew he needed me to answer him, so I did. “All right, honey. I’ll trust you and lean on Pop and Vera if you’re not here.”

  “That’s good. I’m always gonna take care of you,” he whispered, running his fingers down the side of my face, and then rolling us, so we were lying side by side.

  He searched my face for a minute, and the look in his eyes made me instantly apprehensive.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked him anxiously, dreading his answer.

  “Everything’s fine. Nothin’ to worry about. Gonna be smooth sailing from here,” he assured me with a slow kiss on my lips.

  Then, he tightened his arms around me and tilted his head above mine, closing his eyes as if to sleep. I lay there in the dark, safe and warm in our little nest, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was looming on the horizon. Dragon had assured me that everything was fine, but something was off. He wouldn’t look me in the eyes as he said it.

  Life evolved into a pretty familiar pattern. Dragon spent most of his time away from the house, but knowing he was in town was enough to keep me from completely panicking about our conversation after the barbeque. In the days after the party, I felt like the hairs on my neck stood up constantly in reaction to a force that I couldn’t see. I knew something was coming, but I couldn’t tell from what direction it would come.

  Tony had been quiet, and we learned four days after the barbeque that our custody hearing had been pushed back in light of recent events. Dragon’s paternity suit had done its job, and I was almost giddy with relief that this would all be over soon. I no longer received any calls from Tony. Dragon had taken care of that weeks ago with the new number he’d set up for me. But I’d still had to deal with Tony’s lawyer calling the club and leaving messages constantly, always promising the same thing. If I went back, Tony would be willing to go to couple’s counseling, and he would drop the custody suit immediately. The thought made me shudder. The attorney for the club finally took over those calls, too, telling both the attorney and Tony that we weren’t interested.

  Trix had made friends with some of the club kids, giving us more to do during the day, as old ladies and their children stopped by to play. Casper still spent time watching out for us when Dragon wasn’t home. Dragon didn’t feel comfortable leaving us alone until the dust had settled on the custody battle, but Trix and I didn’t mind. Casper was becoming the brother I’d never had; he was a part of our little family, and we loved having him around. It was everything I’d been looking for when I left the club. It was a community where Trix and I felt comfortable, where we could have play dates, and I could chat with other mothers without worrying that I would let something slip that would give a hint to our home life.

  It was amazing to me, the difference in my perspective from a child of the club to an old lady of one of the members. I had been so sure that the life I’d wanted was outside the gates of the club where I didn’t have to worry about the stares of outsiders. I had taken for granted the community I’d grown up in. Like an extended family, there was always someone to listen or help out. I’d been so anxious to leave that I hadn’t realized what I was leaving. I was sure that there was a sense of community on the outside, that there were people living the straight and narrow who had the connections I’d wanted, but I’d never found them. The club was where I was comfortable. These were the people I trusted, and I was finally finding my place.

  While lying in the grass one day with Trix asleep next to me, I realized that the traits I so dreaded in a man from the club weren’t present in Dragon. He didn’t sleep around. I didn’t always know where he was, but I was learning that I didn’t need to know. He had business that I wasn’t a part of, and I was perfectly fine with that. He didn’t party long into the night and come home smelling like club whores the way I’d envisioned in my nightmares. I knew he was doing things that could get him put away for a long time, but I trusted him to be as careful as he could. He’d never jeopardize our little family if he could help it. I figured it was a lot like a military wife must feel when her husband was out doing things that she knew put him in danger. Thinking about the dangers didn’t do anything except make her miserable. We had to make the best of a shitty situation. It made them who they were. Of course, military wives had husbands on the right side of the law…but who was I to quibble over semantics?

  When I realized that this was where we were supposed to be, I felt a peace that I’d never felt before. Everything became simpler. The obsessive compulsive cleaning jags stopped almost completely, and dishes in the sink became just dishes in the sink, not a mountain I had to climb at the first possible instant. I was feeling comfortable in my skin again, free to be myself, the self I’d lost so long ago.

  Dragon noticed the change in me, and it changed the way he acted toward me in simple ways. He pushed me. He teased me, knowing I wouldn’t burst into tears at some perceived slight. We fought. He didn’t hold back when he was pissed, and for once, I didn’t either. We never crossed any lines, emotional or physical, but we fought, balls-to-the-wall arguments, which usually turned into the best sex we’d ever had.

  Dragon became messier, and it was then I knew that he’d been on his best behavior before. He left shit all over the house that I’d find throughout the day—socks by the couch, a grease rag hanging on the back of a kitchen chair. He wasn’t tiptoeing around the house anymore; he was leaving his mark, mostly in the form of dirty laundry. All of his furniture was still in the apartment he’d shared with Kendra, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want any of that stuff in my house. The thought of sitting on a couch they’d had sex on made my stomach turn. So, we made a home with the hand-me-downs and castoffs we’d accumulated, and I loved it.

  Life was good.

  Until it wasn’t.

  Dragon left early in the morning on the Friday after the barbeque. It wasn’t normal for him to leave before the sun came up, but it wasn’t abnormal either. I stayed in bed with Trix, snuggling up close next to her, her breath hot on the side of my neck. These were some of my favorite mornings, the ones where I was just barely awake as Dragon kissed me slow and deep before he said good-bye. It left me in a half-dreamlike state where everything felt cozy and warm. I relished the feeling of kissing my man good-bye as I cuddled our baby close. I fell back asleep not long after I heard Casper pull up, the roar of Dragon’s retreating bike fading in my ears.

  My phone woke both Trix and me up at eight that morning, making me groan in frustration, as she jumped out of bed to grab it. />
  “Hi, Papa!” she answered and then paused for a moment. “Nope, we were sleepin’. Mama’s still layin’ in bed. She looks mad!” She giggled for a minute and then handed the phone to me.

  I’d noticed that she started using Dragon’s mannerisms the week before, dropping her Gs and gesturing with her hands as she spoke. She’d never before been so animated.

  “Hey, babe,” I mumbled into the phone as I watched Trix bounce out of the bedroom.

  “Hey, baby. Sorry I woke you up.” I could hear the laughter in his voice.

  “It’s not funny! Someone kept me up late last night.”

  “Yeah, and you loved it,” he answered me. “Got the results back this morning.”

  I sat straight up in bed, his news waking me up instantly. “What does that mean? I mean, I know what it means, but what do we do now?”

  “Well, we do nothin’. We wait to hear from the lawyers. But I’d feel better if you and Trix got up and got dressed,” he informed me, sounding distracted.

  “What’s going on? Why do we need to get dressed?” I asked, climbing out of bed to follow his directions even though I didn’t understand why I was doing it.

  “The douche just got papers in black and white that say Trix isn’t his to fuck with. He knew it, but now, the courts know it. Man’s like a cornered animal now, yeah? I’d feel better if you two were awake and dressed. That’s all I’m sayin’.” The tone of his voice never changed, but it was almost as if I could feel the tightness of his body from across the phone.

  “All right. I’m getting dressed now. I’ll go help Trix in a minute. Are you at the clubhouse? Should we come over there?” I asked, beginning to feel a sense of urgency that I didn’t understand but didn’t fight.