by M. N. Forgy
I slowly pull my arm out to my side and drop the crowbar to the ground.
Bow straddles me and zip ties my wrists together, panting the whole time.
“Do you have any other weapons on you?” Bow wheezes above me.
“No,” I mumble, my chin resting on the damp ground.
I look over and see Skeeter grab Jessica’s elbows lifting her off the ground. He slides his hands down her sides a little too slow for my liking.
“You got any weapons on you?” he questions in her ear, his eyes staring at me as he asks her. He knows what he is doing. He’s trying to get a rise out of me.
“No,” Jessica replies softly.
He leans down and slides his hands between her legs, going a little too far up, causing Jessica to flinch.
“Hey!” I holler, pulling against the fat cop holding me.
“Get off me,” Jessica mumbles, pulling away from Skeeter. Skeeter frowns, his porn-stache twitching above his lips. He purposely grabs Jessica’s arm where her injury is, making her cry in pain.
“You don’t have the power here, sweetheart. I do,” Skeeter grunts, licking his lips as he eyes her. He jolts her by the arm and pushes her forward, causing her to fall to the ground.
Jessica pulls herself onto her knees, trying to get up as Skeeter pushes his boot into her back forcing her back onto the ground. My nostrils flare with rage and my hands clench with the impulse to violently give Skeeter an ass whooping for mistreating my girl.
“You wouldn’t be resisting arrest, would you?” Skeeter taunts her, causing me to snap.
I growl loudly as I pull away from the cop holding me. I rip my wrists in opposite directions, the zip ties cutting into my wrists until finally snapping. The cop behind me yells a warning to Skeeter as I stride toward him, my wrists burning from the cuts the zip ties left behind.
Skeeter looks up from staring at Jessica, a smirk turning into a sudden grimace. I pull my fist back and slam it into Skeeter’s jaw, dropping him to the ground.
Jessica looks up, her blue eyes pinning me with praise as a smile creeps up her round cheeks.
Her face quickly frowns, her eyes widening. She reaches her arm out, her lips parting to speak. But before she can get a word out, there’s a severe slam against my upper back. I turn and see two police officers raising their hands, banters gripped tightly in their palms. Bow thrashes it against the back of my knees, causing me to collapse. Within seconds, they fly on me, cuffing my wrists. Skeeter stands, holding his jaw. His eyes squint with anger, and he pulls out his nightstick. His eyes hooded with a violent promise that I am going to pay for my actions.
“No!” Jessica screams.
“Look away,” I mouth to her, knowing this is going to be ugly. Jessica nods, tears flowing down her cheeks.
“It was worth it,” I laugh as she turns her head, a chuckle escaping her sob.
Jessica
Two Weeks Later
“Bobby took responsibility for everything. He told the cops he killed Grant in self-defense after finding Grant had taken Jessica against her will. Having Jessica as a witness, and the fact that Bobby’s record goes to show he doesn’t shy away from confrontation, the police didn’t argue when arresting him. From what our lawyer says, Bobby is in deep shit for dislocating Skeeter’s jaw, and in return Skeeter is trying to botch the self-defense plea against Grant, causing the authorities to second-guess the statement and Jessica’s statement,” Bull informs, smoking a cigarette.
“That means they will be going over the evidence with a fine-toothed comb,” Hawk sputters from the back of the table, scratching the beard on his chin.
“Nah, Skeeter is a fucking moron. I’m sure he half-assed the evidence,” Shadow encourages, making me feel a little hopeful.
I sigh, running my hands over my face. My bloodstream runs with inflamed rage at the thought of Bobby sitting in jail because of me. After the club’s lawyer arrived at the police station and confirmed I was a victim in the whole charade, and further explained how I got blood on myself trying to break up Bobby attacking Grant, I was let go. But to be honest, after Bobby hit Skeeter, the police didn’t question me much. They wanted Bobby to go down in flames for attacking one of their own. They don’t really seem to care about my involvement.
“He’s looking at doing some time, babe,” Bull continues, looking right at me with grief in his eyes, his words making my heart sink.
“That fucker Skeeter is a weasel,” Lip grunts, shaking his head.
“He baited Bobby,” I inform. Reaching over, I swipe the cigarette out of Bull’s fingers and take a large drag. Bull lifts an eyebrow at me shocked as I exhale.
“I’m stressed out,” I remark, taking another puff. I have been known to have a cig here and there, and have smoked the occasional joint with Bobby as well. I’m no saint.
“You get visitation with him?” Lip asks, flicking his lip ring with the tip of his tongue.
“Yeah, I am heading over there now before I have to pick Addie up,” I add, putting the cigarette out in an ashtray. Bobby has been in county jail for two weeks and it's killing me. I can’t wait to see him.
“Go see him. Give him our love, darlin’,” Bull instructs, standing from his seat at the head of the table.
“Will do,” I remark.
***
I sit on a yellow plastic chair on one side of double-sided glass. The lighting is dim, and it smells like piss in here. The white paint on the walls is chipped revealing the gray cement and the floor is missing tiles. I can only imagine what it looks like where Bobby is held. I sigh and shake my head. This is all my fault. Bobby shouldn’t be in here because of me. Travis and Grant were my problem, and now Bobby is suffering behind bars. I smirk, Bobby. My knight in shining armor.
A giant metal door buzzes on the other side of the glass and Bobby walks out. My body sparks and my breathing hitches as I see him. I watch Bobby shuffle to a matching yellow plastic chair on the other side of the Plexiglas. He’s wearing a blue jump suit, his hands handcuffed in front of him. His blond hair is messier than usual, and he looks pale from the lack of sun.
“You got ten minutes, inmate,” an officer sneers, walking past our booth.
Bobby lifts the phone, using both of his cuffed hands, and puts it to his ear. His forehead has a square patch of gauze concealing an injury, his eyebrow stitched with beady little black string snaking in and out of it. Those cops beat the shit out of him that night. I turned my head like he told me to, but I’ll never get the sound those nightsticks made when they plowed into Bobby’s body out of my head.
His face sparks with longing when he sees me, brightening his eyes. “Hey, babe,” he greets, with that wolfish smirk of his.
“Hey,” I whisper, pushing to the edge of my seat, wanting to be closer to him.
“How are you?” he asks, looking at me through the glass.
“All right I guess.” I shrug.
He nods, biting his lip.
“You?” I ask, brushing my hair off my shoulder.
“Eh, jail hasn’t changed. Shit food, good drugs,” he laughs. Revealing two dimples that remind me just how much I miss him. It also reminds me of how much of a bitch I was when we were last together.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” I inform, looking up from under my lashes.
Bobby smiles and nods, his eyes wrinkling on the sides as he focuses on me. “I know you will,” he responds.
“Time’s up,” an officer remarks, standing behind Bobby.
“That wasn’t ten minutes!” I yell through the glass at the fat cop. The cop smiles arrogantly, reaches over, and grabs the phone out of Bobby’s hand, slamming it on the hook.
Bobby gives me a wink before standing. The guard pushes Bobby in the back making him walk, and the steel door buzzes before it opens and takes Bobby out of my sight.
I hang the phone up, slouching back in my chair and sigh. I don’t know how to get Bobby out of here. I’m not a lawyer. I don’t know a credible lawy
er and I don’t have those kinds of connections. My eyes widen at the thought. Connections. My parents. The only way Bobby is getting out of here is if I talk to my parents. The connections they have might work in Bobby’s favor. The last door of my troubled past I’ll have to pass through.
“Fuck,” I grumble.
***
I pull into the country club I usually meet my mother at and wait. I called her as soon as I got out from visiting Bobby yesterday, and asked her to meet me in the parking lot today. She of course was very concerned, considering we just met and shouldn’t meet again until next month.
Fingers knock against the glass on my door, making me jump from my thoughts.
“Jessica, is everything okay?” my mother asks as I roll the window down.
“Get in,” I demand, eyeing my frazzled mother. You can tell she jumped in her car and drove straight here. She has on sweat pants and jacket. No big poufy hair or gigantic hat you could see from afar.
She nods and walks around my Jeep.
“What is going on? Is Addie okay?” she questions before she even climbs into my Jeep.
“Yeah, she is fine,” I reply, turning in my seat to face her.
“Have you heard anything from Travis’s family?” I ask, resting my hands on my steering wheel.
“No, they don’t talk to us since they backed out of the board of the hospital,” she informs, shaking her head. I close my eyes and swallow. My tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth like sand paper. I’m not sure how much detail I should give her about what happened with Grant, but I need to disclose some information if I’m going to get any help.
“Grant came to see me,” I finally spill, making her gasp in reaction.
“He suggested I had something to do with Travis’s disappearance and wanted the money from the will I was to receive,” I start. My mother turns in her seat, clutching her chest.
“He kidnapped me and threatened to kill me if I didn’t give him the money,” I pause, deliberating if I should tell her I killed him. Will she ever look at me the same if she knew I had another’s soul staining my hands? “I did what I had to do,” I whisper, not giving her the gritty details. She tilts her head to the side, clearly wanting me to explain, but I choose to ignore it. “Because of that, someone I care about is taking the wrap for me. He is looking at a long time in jail if I don’t do something, Mom.” My eyes fill with tears.
“He?” my mother asks, taking her hand down from her chest, and reaching over to grasp mine in comfort. I nod, wiping the tears that have escaped and splashed on my cheeks.
“Who is he, this sudden hero of yours?” my mother asks, her tone heartfelt. I laugh, thinking of Bobby as a hero. But when I think about it, he has been my hero since I met him.
“He has been there for me and Addie since day one. I have done everything in my power to keep him away though. Not ready for the idea of falling in love, depending on another and getting hurt more than I could possibly bear.” I close my eyes just thinking of the wasted years, and I shake my head as I fiddle with my fingers nervously. “The way he lives his life, I’m not sure I can be what he needs me to be,” I admit.
“You’re not making any sense, Jessica. What do you mean his way of life?” my mother asks, her face twisted in confusion.
I laugh nervously. “He’s a part of a motorcycle club,” I meekly respond.
My mother starts to laugh uncontrollably, her hand resting on her mouth as she tries to restrain her fit of giggles.
I raise an eyebrow at her. Her reaction disturbingly different to what I was expecting.
After she contains herself, she looks away from the window and looks at me, her face bright and cheery. “You poor thing. You take after your momma more than I thought,” she mutters, smiling big.
“What do you mean?” I question with a shrug.
“Before I met your daddy, I was in love something bad with another man. A love you only see in the movies, and he happened to be a biker,” my mother emphasizes the word biker. “He did some illegal things, and I would ride on the back of that sexy bike of his while he did it. His dad was a biker too, but didn’t think Leo was quipped to be a biker, so Leo went out of his way to prove his dad that he was the man for the job.” She closes her eyes and shakes her head like she’s remembering it in vivid detail in her mind. “He had tattoos and long hair. He was almost too much to look at. Man we were wild,” she laughs, opening her eyes.
“What happened?” I ask, shaking my head in confusion. Where is this mysterious biker guy?
“My dad, much like yours, didn’t approve. Forbid me to see Leo again. When I didn’t abide by his rules, we moved in the middle of the night and I never saw my love again,” my mother says, her words grave as she remembers.
Mom whips her head in my direction, as if the thought of missing the man she fell in love with fluttered away. “I love your father. I do, but I loved Leo, too.” She turns her head, her cheeks turning red. “Leo made me fall in love with him. He was relentless. Always chasing me, saying the most outrageous things,” she continues, laughing. I smirk. He sounds just like Bobby.
She reaches over and grasps my hand, her bright eyes staring at me. “Don’t fight it, Jessica. Don’t fight your feelings if you truly care for this man of yours.” She gives my hand a firm squeeze. I take a sudden breath and nod.
“Me and daddy will take care of this,” she continues, letting go of my sweating hand.
“But dad…” I begin, knowing my dad will not want anything to do with Bobby if he saw the tattooed outlaw he is.
My mother scoffs.
“When you were with Travis, I was not the most attentive mother. I didn’t know just how severe it was, Jessica. Your father told me to butt out, let it be, and I did. I have regretted that choice every day since you left. Your daddy just recently had a heart attack and is seeing things in a different light lately. He will do what I ask I am sure, but if he doesn’t, I will be leaving him,” she informs seriously. I remember when mom told me he had a heart attack; she said he was different. I didn’t know he completely changed his outlook on life though.
“You are our daughter,” she continues. “It’s in our nature to fuck up along the line of parenting, but when we get the opportunity to correct our wrong doings, we should, and this is one of those times. With age comes wisdom,” my mother adds, smiling.
Without thinking, I fling myself into her, hugging her. She tenses, hesitating before wrapping her hands around me. The woman before me has transformed into a mother I had never dared to imagine.
“You just said the word fuck,” I laugh into her shoulder.
“You have to come to Thanksgiving though, and bring this biker hero, along with Addie,” she whispers against my ear, completely ignoring my observation of her swearing, making me laugh.
“Mom, I don’t know,” I start, knowing there are so many bad memories in Nevada, and the idea of my dad meeting Bobby is already making my palms sweat.
“Baby, from what I understand, there is nothing left in Nevada that can hurt you,” she laughs. I shrug and give a crooked smile, not confirming or denying that notion.
“Yeah, but dad—”
“Despite your father’s actions, Jessica, he misses you and Addie. He will come around if he wants his daughter back in his life,” she interrupts, her lips pursed with determination.
“All right, we’ll come,” I say, exasperated.
15
Jessica
It’s been two days since I saw my mother, and I’m growing more and more anxious by the hour. She assured me these things take time and that there were plans in the works for getting Bobby out of jail.
“Did you brush your teeth?” I ask Addie who walks to her room from the bathroom, getting ready for bed.
“Yup, love you, Mom,” she yells, shutting her bedroom door.
“Love you, too,” I mumble, knowing she can’t hear me.
I sit up, looking over the now clean apartment. I’m so thankful that
some of the guys from the club helped clean it up after Grant trashed it. I head into my room and flop on my bed. Glancing toward my closet, I spot the repacked shoebox. My eyes furrow inward. That box needs to go. There is no reason to suffer in a turmoil of fear anymore. Decision made, one which has my heart leaping into my chest, I stand, snatching the box from the shelf. I check on Addie in her room, finding her snuggled in bed and already dozing off. I shut the door and head to the kitchen drawer. After grabbing a lighter out of one of the drawers, I make my way to the front door.
I run down the stairs and out the back lobby door to the community grill. I throw the shoebox on the charred rack and set it alight. I watch it burn. The smell of freedom and the sound of my fears crackle as the flame claims the entire box. Not many people would understand why I kept this box. Why I would keep something I was trying to move on from. To me it was simple. It fed my fear. Every day I saw it, it reminded me why I needed to tread lightly, make careful decisions that would protect Addie and me. It was a daily reminder that being lonely wasn’t such a bad thing considering how much pain I was in before. Only in the last few weeks, I realized I lived in more fear trying to make sure I never relived what I had been through, than the fear I had endured when I was living that nightmare.
Safe, protected, secure. These are words, but nothing more. Their meaning a cloak of reality. It’s impossible to be fully in control of your well-being. Life reminds us we’re human; we just often choose to ignore it. I’m trying to survive this fucked-up world, and I finally refuse to sit back and allow the savage beast of fear to dictate my life.
When I killed Grant, a burden of fear that divided me from Bobby was finally obliterated. Maybe it was the near-death experience, Bobby telling me he loved me, or maybe it was when Bobby took that collar off me and threw it into the devouring darkness. Whatever it was, all I know is I am in love with Bobby, and of course, it hurts. It hurts to come to terms with the notion, and not have him here with me to tell him over and over again.
After the box is nothing but ash and a couple of charred rings, I turn and run back inside. Leaving my past to dwindle in the summer breeze.
