by Nikki Wild
He keeps trying to laugh to ease the tension. “You say you know how I get and you push me there, right to my limit.”
“You’re really blaming me right now?”
“Christ! Listen to yourself. You are certified crazy.”
“You’ve almost done it before. Forgive me for having a guard up.”
“Well, sometimes you almost deserve it. And I’m sorry about that…that time. I was too drunk.” His jaw clenches and his fist slams atop the outdoor table as he tries to calm his aggression.
I fight the tears and back away from him.
Me and Todd fight. We always fight but he’s being vicious this time; Hitting me where it hurts— A place in my mind where I deserve to be punished. I’m drawn to the conflict. I’m obliged to stay and bear it because this is the way I think I need to be treated because, in my mind, it somehow makes up for what we did to Daryl.
“Oh, the silent treatment, huh? Fuck you, bitch.” Todd goes back inside behind the taps to return to serving customers. Billie catches my eye through the window with a look of concern but doesn’t approach me.
Outside, everything falls quiet. All I hear is my breath. All I see is the billow of it. My mind is awash with what-if’s and should-I’s.
I look to the truck, to Landon and the man hauling pieces of his bike into the back.
This punishing sentence is mine to face. I brought this life on myself and I am made to endure it for all I’ve done in the past. Any sadness that comes into my life is karma resetting the balance. If I choose to stay, things will settle back to normal eventually. I can blame this entire Landon thing to be an innocent, naïve mistake— The kind Lucy Rivers makes because of how much she cares for people and how she wants to see the good in everyone. I’ll keep working in the tavern. I’ll keep painting. I’ll agree to be with Todd in whatever capacity he wants me. I’ll accept that this is my life, because only a few days ago I already had.
But now I had a new choice…
I could go.
If I left, I’d be burning bridges beyond repair. I’d destroy my quiet life I’ve struggled to build myself up here in the redwoods. All those lies, all those relationships, all those years wasted in exchange to spend a few more days with Landon, to settle him back into life in Jethrow, life in the club, a life of crime, a life where he’s connected to a woman named Mia, a life where I don’t fit in anywhere. Jethrow, where my mom is either missing, dead, or so high she might as well be.
“What’re you doing out here? Get inside! It’s mad in here.” Billie shouts from the back door.
Auto-pilot rattles my bones. I obey. I walk back towards the door. Behind me, I can hear Landon’s voice beside the truck but dare not look back.
I enter through the Tavern’s kitchen, sidle beside the Tavern’s two chefs, down along the bar behind a sneering Billie, I collect my rucksack and barge through the heaving crowd and finally out the front door.
But what I see before me makes me trip and fall into the gravel. The truck, my way out of here, Landon and any hope for any alternate future, pulls away onto the road.
No.
No, no, no.
It’s not too late.
It can’t be too late.
I have to go after him. I have to take this chance.
I sling my bag back over my shoulders and run so fast I feel rocks flicking up onto my calves.
“Landon!” I squeal as the truck creaks up through its gears. I’m hanging behind so Landon can see me in the mirror, waving my hands furiously. “Landon, please stop!”
I see him lean out the window and squint through the darkness. I’m illuminated only by the red rear lights.
The truck starts breaking. I could slow down too but I don’t. I sprint right up until I’m at his passenger door.
The truck stops and he jumps from the cab. His hands hold either side of my head. “It’s easier if I go… I don’t want a goodbye, Lucy.”
“I don’t want one either.” I pant heavily. “I’m coming with you.”
“You…fascinating thing.” Landon is lost in my eyes and taking my hands in his.
“Hey!” Todd’s voice is heard from beneath the darkness of the road. “Lucy! What the fuck are you doing?! Where are you going?!”
“If you want me to come, it has to be now,” I say to Landon.
He smiles at me and lifts me up into the passenger cab. I give an awkward ‘hello’ to the trucker who I hope is okay with this and climb into the back sleeper section of the cab.
Twang! Twang! Twang!
“Don’t you dare run away from me!” Todd thumps his palm hard on the truck’s side paneling as we drive off. “You fucking bitch! What are you doing?!”
We accelerate. I cry some more, hearing Todd’s shouting get quieter and quieter. Landon’s arm is reaching back for me, squeezing my knee for comfort.
“This is the right choice, darlin’. You’re always safe with me.”
Chapter 17
My knees are bent into my chest. The California highways at night become one big blur of darkness, truck stops, and passing lights.
I wonder what’s running through Todd’s head… Or Billie’s… I’ve just run off with Landon, a goddamned biker I’m not even supposed to know. They have no way to find me or contact me. Will they be panicking? Will they put out a missing persons report? If only I’d had time to do this right or to come up with a story that makes sense. Thing is, life doesn’t wait for the perfect time. I can’t see a hope of ever repairing my relationships here once I go back.
‘…once I go back…’ That thought confirms I haven’t fully chosen yet whether I’ll stay in Jethrow or not. I’ve chosen Landon, sure, but I can’t get my head around staying in that town… Baddock, the security of my studio, nature, and being away from the chaos of too many people— I fear I’ll miss all of that too much.
But that’s not a priority to worry about right now. I have three days to make a decision.
Now’s not the time, Lucy.
“You comfortable back there, darlin’?” Landon asks quietly.
“I’m okay.”
He reaches a hand back towards me and I accept it willingly.
We pulled off the highway to all take a nap and eat then returned on our journey into the morning.
The sun has risen over the hills that wall the horizon. The scenery’s changed from dense forests to open plains once more. Industrial businesses begin appearing, familiar ones. The old county abattoir that shut down in the eighties, still as decrepit as ever, clues me into our impending arrival.
Then I see it…
The worn-down sign…
Jethrow, Oregon, there to tell me I’ve truly left my comfort zone many miles behind me.
I laugh at the graffiti covering the ‘J’ and the ‘E’ that instead spells out ‘DEA’. Kids have done this for years and no matter how hard the town council try fix it, they can’t stop it from happening. Thing is, they’re looking at the problem all wrong. The issue isn’t the kids doing the graffiti— It’s the knuckle-head, addict parents who raise them and make the town the Deathrow it is. Fix them and you fix the sign.
“Great. Looking forward to this,” Landon says, tone dripping in sarcasm.
Driving through the old streets is strange to me but not foreign. Not a lot has changed as far as the buildings and Mom ’n’ Pop stores go. In fact, someone could’ve said to me that I’ve only been gone days, not years, and I’d have believed them.
It’s when we drive by the Savvy 7 Gas Station that my panic starts to kick in. I’ve left my meds behind so am afraid of how I might react just being here. My hands tremble as I rub them together and look into Savvy 7 to the bored, young female working behind the counter like I did back in high school. She was me once, only with less blood on her hands. I time-travel to back then, those six years ago, to Landon’s face watching me through the window of his mom’s truck, him shouting to me to be happy and keep fighting as I drove away. He wore a red baseball cap and hi
s wife-beater was tainted with blood and dirt. This memory would otherwise hurt, keep me confined to my bed for hours, but all I have to do now is reach forward to the passenger seat to place my hand on his arm and I feel comforted.
“Here you go,” the truck driver, Bluey, tells us. We’re standing outside a shitty motel that used to moonlight as the Jethrow brothel. I don’t know if they’d ever be bothered to clean it up.
We thank him, unload Landon’s bike and watch him disappear down the main street. More panic seeps in. I’m in this now. No more running.
After twenty minutes standing in the uncomfortable morning sun, Landon comes back with some keys and gestures me to follow him. He opens a door into a suite that’s embedded with the smell of dampness and stale cigarettes.
“Wow, what a shit hole,” I say.
I wish I could be back in my studio wrapped up with Babeen right now. I drag my tensed eyes over the brown carpet, the pink sheets, the gaudy comforter…Bleck! It’s tacky, disgusting, claustrophobic.
“There’s only one bed,” I notice.
“It’s all they had sweetheart… I’m takin’ the floor anyhow.”
“The floor? You’ll get sick. There’s mould on the wall over there.”
“I’ll survive.”
“Landon, let’s not stay here.”
“They’re the only ones that take cash, Lucy. You got a bank card you want to use?” I don’t answer. I have a bank out of necessity to get my wages and for nothing else. I don’t even know how much is in there at this point. “Didn’t think so. Bluey gave me some money for tonight. He’s old MC crew from Santa Cruz. He gets it. We gotta keep this quiet and stay here till I figure out what’s going on, for our own sakes’.”
I cross my arms. “No.”
“Pardon?”
“I’m not your prisoner. I don’t wanna stay here and I don’t have to. It creeps me the fuck out. Let’s go somewhere else.”
I’m bluffing but I walk outside anyway and down the row of other doorways. There’s someone fucking in #18. I can hear them. A nervous businessman is staring out the window in #13, waiting for his call girl, I guess.
Landon follows me and calls after me nicely. I don’t respond. My inner child is screaming at me ‘WARNING WARNING WARNING’. The morning feels muggy and sticky already, that same air that I’ve come to resent.
“Lucy!” he calls after me again.
“Why am I even here?” I say, reaching the vending machine to buy a drink to cool me down. “What do I do now?”
“You stay a few nights with me and leave a free woman. I’m not holding you here.”
“Yes you are!”
“No, I’m not, Luce. You can go when you please.”
“You begged for me to come with you.”
“I know. I know I did. Let’s not make a scene here. Please come back in the room. We can figure this out.”
An older couple sharing a cigarette beside the run-down pool look up at us.
“Lucy,” he insists.
“I don’t care what these people think. Why the fuck should I care? That sign’s right. This is fucking death-row and I don’t want to be back here with you being sentenced to it.”
He shoos me away and walks back to the room. “I’m not indulging you here.”
“Indulge me in what exactly?” I follow him, craving an argument I know usually comes with Todd. I’m searching for some kind of sick relief that comes through yelling. Landon doesn’t let in.
“Indulge you in an argument, Luce. I’m happy to talk with you,” he says. “But I’d rather wait until you’ve slept. We’re both exhausted.”
We enter into the room again.
“Tell me what your plan is from here on out. And where exactly do I fit into it?”
“If you lower your voice, I will.”.
“Asshole!”
“Hey, where the hell did that come from? You’ve been off ever since we hit town…”
“Maybe I just think this is a mistake… I shouldn’t have come here… I—I’m going for a walk.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t want you walking away when I know you’re still upset. Let’s talk this out a little bit.”
“Talk what out? I came with you, just like you wanted… Why couldn’t we have just stayed back at my place?”
“Tell me exactly what’s wrong. Let’s solve it,”
I forgot how patient this boy is with people he cares for. Still, I press on wanting to find a button of his. I take a pillow and toss it at his chest, fed up with these vague words that are becoming meaningless. He laughs slightly then picks it up and launches it back at me knocking me onto my ass on the mattress.
“Oh, shit! Lucy, I didn’t mean to throw it so hard.” I’m cradled up in his arms, trying to hold back laughter too. For the first time since we hit Jethrow, I feel… Better…
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine, Princess. It was a pillow, not a missile.”
He stands back up, hands in the air and backs away from me. I raise a pillow of my own high above my head and launch it towards him this time, but Landon makes a reactive side step to dodge it.
Thud! Csssh!
The small TV topples off it’s stand and onto the floor, cracking the screen.
“Shit!” I say cupping my hands over my mouth. Landon snickers then looks back at me. His goofy grin makes me laugh too.
“I ain’t paying for that. Bluey gave me money but…Not that much.”
“It’s your fault. You dodged it!”
Landon squints at me then stomps towards me with a jokingly stern look on his face. I squirm and giggle as he gets closer to me. I jump from the bed, running away from him as quickly as possible until he’s under my arm, throwing me over his shoulder. His muscles aren’t merely for looks — He’s tough and manages to lift me up with ease.
“Let me go,” I laugh and pound on his back.
“Nope. I’m sick of this. Over the balcony, you go, Palermo. You’re a liability. Now we can’t watch Wheel of Fortune tonight. You know I love Wheel of Fortune.”
He keeps playing while I’m left breathless and silent over what I just heard. I go limp and docile over his shoulder, letting his strength hold me.
“Lucy? You all good?”
As he goes to set me my feet back down on the floor, I try find words.
“What’d you say just now?” I ask. I know what I heard.
“I’m just joking about the TV, Luce. It’s alright. Damn thing probably didn’t work anyway.”
“No, before that.”
“I don’t know, darlin’. I was just playin’ around. I can’t remember.”
He said Palermo, clear as day. Palermo as in Lucy Palermo… The real me. The name he used to call me when he pretended to be mad at me. My own name. Landon remembers. My Landon’s in there, closer than I thought. Some part of him knows who I am!
“Lucy, you’re scaring me a bit here… If you really don’t want to be here I’m sure I can get you a bus back to California.”
“I’m fine,” I reply, staring at his eyes and hoping for another glint of recognition. “I’ll stay.”
“I think I might be winning you over,” he says, giving me a cocky smile.
“Don’t be arrogant.”
“I’m not arrogant… I just know what I want, and I know how to get it.”
Landon moves quicker than his injuries should have allowed. I found myself tackled onto the bed, twisting and landing on top of him, my breasts pressed into the hard granite of his chest.
And beneath me, I could feel something even harder than granite pressing against my thigh.
“Landon,” I murmur, and his name on my lips was like a prayer of thanksgiving.
“There’s my Lucy,” he grins and moves his lips to cover mine.
I kiss him back with everything I have, the years of pent up passion continue to pour into my frenzied and frantic movements. Our tongues meet
and mingle once more, sparring for dominance as I let my hands wander down the body I had missed for so damn long. Lower and lower I touch, seeking, probing and stroking until my fist closes around the upright evidence of his desire beneath his jeans.
He brakes away from the kiss. “God damn, Lucy… You don’t know what you do to me…”
My hand begins to move of its own accord. “Maybe I do,” I murmur against the hollow of this throat. His skin under my lips is warm and practically pulsing with life. I lick my lips and they come away salty and sweet, so I kiss his throat again, sliding my tongue ever downward, tasting, licking and teasing until I reach the edge of his jeans.
Memories of our times before life pulled us apart filled my mind. Maybe if I could remind him… If I could show him what it was like.
I planned on teasing him into a frenzy, but all those plans went out the window the minute I pulled his jeans south and his cock bobbed free.
I gasp out loud to see Landon’s cock up close. The perfection I remembered was nothing compared to the work of art in front of me. "Oh my god, Landon,” I murmur.
"You like it?"
I close my fist around the long, elegant shaft, and it fits perfectly in my grip, heavy and smooth at the same time. I move my head over the tip before flicking my tongue outward.
“Fuck,” Landon grunts, letting his head fall back on the pillow.
"Are you sure you know how to get what you want?” I ask, darting my tongue around the tip in quick, rapid-fire swirls.
Landon laces his fingers through my hair, pain blooming across my scalp as he takes control. I gasp as he lines up my mouth, pressing his hips upward.
It had been so long since I’d let him use me like this. Maybe he didn’t remember me, but his body knew what to do. My lips close tightly around his shaft as he drives his cock deep.
He grunts and lets out a low, animal moan that inflames me with desire so delicious that my toes curl. Emboldened by his appreciative moans, I begin working his cock in earnest with my tongue, giving myself up to his control as he guides my movements. I am laving the entire shaft, inhaling deeply and taking the entire massive length of him deeper with every motion. His cock pulses with desire, the head hitting the back of my throat as he surges upward, willing me to take him in, to take all of him and swallow every last inch just the way he likes… The way the Landon I knew couldn’t get enough of.
