Crash & Burn

by Jaci J

  This shit is all news to me. He helped her move her shit? She really is fucking done with me. She moved out? She wasn’t supposed to go this far. She’s supposed to fucking stay so I know she’s still mine, whether she want to be or not.

  “None of this shit would be goin’ on if you’d act like a man. Suggest you pull your shit together before you fuck it all up because believe me when I say she’s ready to leave your ass for good. N’ when she does, there won’t be a goddamn thing you can do ‘bout it because she won’t be your Old Lady any goddamn more.”

  ****

  It’s all gone. When I walked into the house it didn’t feel the same. The air is cold and quiet, empty and fucking sad. Every goddamn thing is gone. She took it all except for a pair of boots by the side door. Seeing that shit makes me feel fucking crazy. She left the house shit, but took all her shit. All the important stuff is gone. That last nail in my coffin is the house key sitting on the kitchen counter. This is it. That shit ripped my heart out and let the bastard bleed all over the fucking floor. I couldn’t be in that house any more. I wanna burn it to the ground. Strike a match and let that motherfucker burn. It’s not a place I want to be without her. Nothing left in my heart anymore but hate. I hate that bitch. I hate that I loved her. I hate that I don’t have her in my house and in my life anymore. She finally came to her senses and I am pissed.

  ****

  I have nothing left, so fuck it. I give up. Grabbing a couple of bottles of Cognac, Tanqueray, Jack, some X, coke and Trix, I head straight to hell.

  10

  Road Rage

  Lil

  I had to get my things out of that house. We need space and that’s what I’m giving us. We need miles of it. Maybe it’ll bring us back together in the end. You know the saying, absence makes the heart grow fonder? God, I fucking hope there’s some truth in that. If not, then I don’t know what I’ll do …

  The thought of being apart hurts, but I have to do it. Then again, maybe this shit is all for nothing. Maybe there is nothing more that can be done. Right now I’m choosing to have hope though. I’m choosing to hang on to what we used to have. I’ll protect it with my life. I’ll do whatever it takes. My last ditch effort is giving us space, distance and time.

  I’m trying to be patient and understanding, but he makes it really fucking hard. All I know is that we’ve got to get along and deal with one another. This club is my life too, so we have to find some balance and be civil. If leaving is what can wake him up, I’ll do it. I’m trying to bring him back to me. He may push me away from himself, but I won’t let him push me away from my family. He will not run me off.

  ****

  Not surprisingly, the club is pretty busy today. When I pulled in, Stitch and Rampage were acting like they were twelve and beating the shit out of each other in that godforsaken ring while Gin’s hunched over his bike, tinkering away. Everyone is working and it’s business as usual around here. Walking into the club, the air shifts and something feels off as soon I step through the door. It’s stifling inside. The relaxed vibe from outside is nowhere to be found on the inside. Happy makes a bee line for me before I can make it past the front door.

  “Whatcha doin’ here sis?” Is he serious?

  “Uh, is that a trick question?”

  “Sure the fuck isn’t. You wanna grab up some lunch with me?” He asks. His voice is a little panicked and his eyes are a little frazzled. What the fuck? Since when does he want to hang out with me? Lately he avoids me like an ex-wife.

  “Yeah, after I’ve done a little work … What the hell is wrong with you Happy?”

  Waving me off, he says “Nothin’.” He’s being pretty dismissive while he glances around. Yeah, I’m not believing him.

  “Seriously, why are you actin’ like a fuckin’ nut job?”

  “Damn, I’m not. You wanna go for a ride with me then?” Okay, that’s it. Something’s goin’ on. Either that, or he got into some bad weed.

  “Alright. Well I got shit to do so I’m gonna let you stand here and act weird, my friend.” Side stepping him, I make a grab for the office door.

  “Lil, please” Happy clips in an agonized groan, but it’s too late, the damage is already done. Biggest mistake of my life.

  My breath leaves me in a rush as my lungs compress painfully in my chest. I feel like all the air has been violently punched out of my body and my poor damaged heart stops and burns in my chest as I struggle to get sufficient air into my lungs. My vision blurs and those fucking tears find their way to the surface.

  My desk is a fucking mess. All the papers I had neatly stacked on top of it are strewn all over the floor. My eyes follow the trail of empty bottles of liquor and discarded articles of clothing littering my office floor. That terrible raw spot in my heart splits open and bleeds slowly ‘cause nothing in my life will ever be as terrible as this.

  Tank is sprawled on the couch in the corner, wearing only his black boxer briefs. One arm is thrown carelessly over his face, while the other is hanging off the couch, clutching a bottle of Tanqueray, and blood from his newly stitched up arm is dried to his forearm. Trix is completely naked, lying on top of him. Her body is molded to his, and I can see some sick satisfaction on her face even in her sleep. I swallow down the vile lump in my throat at the sight in front of me. I want to scream. I want to kick the fucking shit out of the both of them, but nothing happens.

  I feel completely numb, like this is an out of body experience. It’s like I’m watching it happen to someone else. My mind won’t let me process the scene in front of me and I blink back the tears, willing them away. I’m not doing this. Not here, not now. Taking a deep breath I turn around to leave. Out of nowhere, the whole goddamn club is watching my epic downfall and humiliation. They’re all watching me, faces expressionless as they stare at me. I will not cry. I will not fucking cry. He’s not worth my tears.

  “I’ve gotta go.” I whisper through the choked back sob and tears.

  “Sis” Gin pleads softly, grabbing my arm as I pass and I can see the pity in his eyes. Why would Tank do this? They all probably saw it coming. I can’t do this. I will not do this and I shake his hand off me.

  “Leave me the fuck alone.” I can’t look at him. I can’t look at any of them. I turn and walk out of the door.

  ****

  “Hey Sammy. Any plans for the next few weeks?” I sniffle into the phone pathetically. God! I sound like a soppy ass loser, but I’m all cried out now, leaving me a snotty and raspy mess. I finally let it happen and I let all that shit go. I couldn’t hold it in once it got started, so one tear was followed by a million. I cried for a while. I cried until my eyes felt swollen and raw and there were no more tears left. Now the tears have dried up and morphed into to something different.

  They’ve turned into an emotion I can’t place and if I could, I wouldn’t even have a name for it. It’s something like love mixed with hate, and a little bit of rage thrown in. I want to say it’s hate that they’ve turned into, but I don’t think I could ever truly hate him. No matter how bad I want to to, I just don’t think I have it in me.

  I feel so betrayed and let down by my best fucking friend. He was always supposed to be on my side treat me good, to love me. He was never supposed to break me like this. I should have never let him in. I should have never trusted him. The sad part is I’d do it all over again to be able to feel that intense love for the short time I got it.

  The worst part of this whole mess is I feel fucking stupid. How could I have not seen this coming? I feel like I left that door wide open for him, like I invited the trouble in. As much as I want to blame Trix for this, it isn’t her fault either. She was doing what she does ‘cause she’s a whore. That’s all she’ll ever be ‘cause it’s all the bitch knows. She knew Tank was mine, but she did what I’m sure he asked her to do. I hate the nasty slut, but it still isn’t her fault. But when I see her, I’m still gonna kill her. I’m going to kill them both.

  I’ve gone through the, what ifs.
What if I would have tried harder? What if I would have loved him more?

  Fuck that. I did everything that I could have done and I refuse to take the blame for this anymore. He acts like he’s the only motherfucker that had to deal with this shit. I had to be strong for him, but he couldn’t, no, wouldn’t give that to me.

  With the phone pressed to my ear and my face pressed into my pillow, I whine to my cousin.

  “Shit baby. My schedule just cleared so pack a really big bag. I’ll let Trace and Tyler know you’re headed our way. Daddy will clear out the spare room for you.”

  “Thank you.” I sound like I’m having an allergy attack.

  “Don’t thank me, but let me know who the dead asshole is that Daddy’s gonna be ordering a hit on.”

  ****

  On my five hour drive I listened to every sad song ever made. I’ll Be, Nobody Knows, Nothing Compares to You, Foolish, It Will Rain, Have You Ever, Tears in Heaven and the list goes on. I listened to them on repeat while I sobbed, letting my fifteen dollar mascara run down my face. I stopped by every comfort food drive-thru I saw. I stopped at Krispy Kreme, where I ate five glazed doughnuts and stuck the other seven in my back seat for later. Wendy’s, there I ate a large fry, deluxe burger, and nuggets. Baskin Robbins, I got a triple chocolate cone and a gallon to go. Don’t judge me. Heartbreak does this to a girl.

  My sad self-pity grew into violence. I got mad and beat the living shit out of my steering wheel. Fuck him. Fuck him for breaking my heart. So I listened to every angry girl power balled out there. You Oughta Know, Don’t Take It Personal, Take a Bow, Creep, Fancy, Hit Me With Your Best Shot. My four personal favorites were, Smoke, Drink, Break-up, Just Like A Pill, Alive, and Teary Eyed. They all left me feeling empowered and ready to drag that asshole behind my Jeep by a long rope on a sharp rocked, gravel road; with some razor blades thrown in for shits and giggles.

  Then I proceeded to have a bit of road rage, taking my anger for Tank out on my fellow travelers. I cut off a bitch in a station wagon, I threw my ice cream cone at a man on a bike, flipped off a trucker, and break checked a douche in a big truck. I’m not proud, but feelin’ slightly better. It was a long trip, but I made it in one piece, and with part of my sanity.

  ****

  My Uncle Danny’s club looks nothing like ours back home. Where ours is very industrial with metal, concrete, steel, and exposed duct work, theirs is rustic, worn and woodsy with wood of every kind, river rock, and natural colors. Their club is basically a tiny broke down cabin in the middle of the woods on a river. Old. It’s up in the mountains of Oregon, off a logging road that winds its way through the mountain side. If you were a hiker and stumbled upon on it, you’d definitely think some axe murders happened here. I packed up my Jeep and headed out here as soon as I got the go ahead from my Uncle. Not that I needed to pack really, my shit was already in bags, which is sad all on its own. I’m fucking homeless. I’m a homeless, manless, makeup smeared, hot mess. Sad days.

  I turned down that long gravel logging road and was met by my cousin Tyler and two other guys. I guess they were expecting me to bring people with me. Even though they are a chapter of the Disciples in Washington and they’ve always been close, these guys out here in Oregon are a little reclusive and guarded when it comes to anyone not directly in their club.

  I’ve spent time up here during the summers playing in the rivers and lakes with my cousins. We’d run around this place, camp out, fish, raft, drive the back roads, and play on ATV’s. During the winter on the rare occasion the club wasn’t safe, my dad would send me and my mom up here too. We’d play in the snow and sled, sit by the fire and play games. Even though this isn’t home, it’s pretty goddamn close. I feel comfortable and safe here.

  I’m safe from Tank here.

  For all that this place lacks in esthetics, it makes up for in memories and heart. This cabin was my Uncle and Mom’s great-grandfathers years ago. Over the years, it’s been added on to and fixed up with minimal repairs, but it’s held strong. This place has strong bones so I can see why my Uncle picked this place to call home.

  “C’mere Sis.” my Uncle waves me over as soon as I set foot out of my Jeep. All the way over here the nickname carried. Since I was a tiny little girl, it’s been what the guys have called me. I guess being like their little sister, it just kind of stuck. Either way, it doesn’t bother me anymore. It is what it is and there’s no changing it now.

  “Thanks for lettin’ me crash.” I tell him as he pulls me into a bear hug, squeezing the air out of me.

  “Don’t thank me for shit. You’re family n’ we do for family, always. Anyway, I send your ass away, Lucy will haunt my ass.” He says as a sad look passes over his rough and wrinkly face with the mention of my mom, his little sister.

  “Well I’m happy to be here.” Hearing him talk about my mom hurts, hitting that slowly healing part of my heart reserved for her. It’s healing, but part of me thinks it’ll never fully recover. What I wouldn’t give to have her here right now. A shoulder to cry on, a source of never ending support, and a back bone made of love and steel that would have been here to help hold me up. She might have even killed Tank for me. God, I miss her.

  “Here.” Taking my bag from my hand, Dan hurls it to a man standing a few feet away. “Take her shit up to her room.” The man catches it. Nodding at Dan, he looks at me and gives me a chin lift and a soft smile.

  “Lilly.”

  Buck. A man I’ve known a long time. I used to spend summers here and he would occasionally stop through our place when we were younger. We used to be pretty close. His light brown hair is shaggy and messy, standing on end and it makes me smile. That man has perpetual bed head. Where Tank is handsome and rugged, but beautiful, Buck is rough and hard, very much a mountain man. A face covered in a full beard hides a good portion of his face. Both arms are sleeved from fingers to shoulders, his chest and back completely covered in colorful tattoos in every variety. Hell, they run to his thighs and they run up this neck and to his chin.

  We had our little thing when I was seventeen and he was eighteen. It was a few weeks of summer fun. It was during a time Josh was fucking around on me and I’d broken it off. He got his and I got mine. Buck and I are good now, we always have been. He got married and had a few kids while I moved and went to school. Friends are all we’ll ever be and I’m good with that.

  “Hey Buck. How are you?”

  “You’re sad babe.” He says completely ignoring my question.

  “Nah, I’ll be good.”

  “Let me know who I need to kill, alright,” he says and chuckles.

  “Yeah, well, I think I want him alive as much as I’d like to kick him in the balls. I’d rather not have to bury him. Kinda love the fuckin’ asshole.”

  “Alright. I’ll hang back, but say the word n’ he’s a goner.”

  Sammy makes her grand entrance as I walk towards the living room. Of course like everyone, I stop and stare at her. Her long, silky light blonde hair sways and shines in the light as she glides her way toward me. I swear she practices that walk. The beauty queen even waves as she walks into the room. A tight white dress on and some Jackie O shades on her head. All she needs is a yappy small dog in her arms. She seriously kills me. Born and raised in the same life and we couldn’t be any more different, but somehow, we work. She’s the sister I never had.

  “Babe.” She says softly, pulling me to her. “What the fuckin’ hell is wrong with that man?” She asks me. There’s that badassness.

  “You’re wearin’ a virginal white dress with the mouth of a sailor. Very classy, Sam.” She throws her head back and laughs.

  “Fuck you. … Let’s get drunk and bitch about men.”

  Sounds like the kinda party I need.

  ****

  Sitting in the living room of the house, we drink and chat. The guys have all but disappeared. As Buck had said, “Your annoyin’ ass woman yappin’ is scary. Imma be in the garage. If ya need me, find me.”

  Th
ey all cleared out as soon as we broke out the wine. I had a glass or two, but I’m not in the mood to get drunk and wallow in my Tank pity. Alcohol only makes it worse.

  “So you know everything?” I’m still a little surprised, and pissed off that the news of me and Tank traveled all the way down here. Damn. It’s like a game of phone between these clubs. News travels fast.

  “Tags kept me up to date. I mean, he’s shit at givin’ detail, but I pieced it all together.” Wait. Wait. I was not expecting to hear that name out if her mouth.

  “Tags? You talk to Tags? Like, on the phone? Disciples Tags? My Tags?”

  She shrugs and starts chugging her wine. Oh yeah, keep trying to keep that mouth busy. Sooner or later you’ll run out of wine. She can’t drop that shit and not explain.

  “Care to give details?”

  “We’re friends.” Oh that’s not good enough.

  “And? When did y’all become friends?” Not that I don’t find that amazing. Tags is such a good guy. He deserves a good woman.

  “Well, I mean we’ve known of each other for a while. I came up there to visit and we talked. We started talkin’ the night of your welcome home barbeque. He stops through sometimes, n’ we text n’ shit.”

  This is all news to me. Tag’s talks on the phone and texts? Not sure why, but I find that crazy and funny.

  “Holy shit. He fuckin’ you too?” Well that got a blush out of her. The dirty little skank-a-roo. “I want details.”

  By this time, Sammy is smashed. I stopped drinking after two glasses ‘cause shit was making me emotional. I do not need to be drunk dialing Tank. She’s spilling all kinds of dirt though. Drunk Sam is fun Sam.

  “It’s huge Lil. Like two handfuls, girth.” Not what I wanted to hear. I wanted light details, not the gruesome ones.