Charlie's Whiskey

by Harlow Brown

  Jazz brought me another beer and one for herself. She even smoked with me. As much as he hated it when she did, Briar didn’t say anything about it. Tonight was different, and he knew not to.

  "I told him that I was done being his whore and personal punching bag, that I’d loved him with everything in me and he had ruined that.” I took a deep breath. “Then I said that if he came near me again, I’d kill him and tell God he died.”

  “Fuck, Charlie girl, are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?” he asked.

  “No. I’ve dealt with this shit for long enough now. One more night ain’t going to hurt me any.” I rolled my eyes. The thought of someone doing a whole-body check made me want to vomit. I had been violated enough; I sure as hell didn’t want some strange person examining me and telling me there was help out there. Fuck, I knew all of that. I stayed because I was protecting Jazz. If I left, he was aware that Jazz would ask why and he’d hurt her. He would catch her without Briar, and I hate to think of what would happen. I knew what he was capable of doing, and I wasn’t about to let my soul sister be hurt by him as I was. So I stayed, knowing the consequences.

  “Are you pressing charges for rape and battery?” Jazz quizzed me.

  “No, I just want it to go away and be done with the whole mess,” I said as all the energy I had left my body. I finished my beer and asked Briar if he would stay the night with us until things died down.

  “Anything you need, Charlie girl.”

  “I'm spent and I'm going to bed. Remind me to ask you guys about Acres tomorrow. It involves all three of us so don’t forget, please.”

  “Sure thing. Do you need anything?”

  “Sleeping clothes.”

  “My clothes swallow you, but I’ll get you some shorts and a tank top,” Jazz said with a hint of a smile.

  “Thanks. I’ll crash on the futon in the spare room, if that’s okay?” I asked.

  “Of course it's okay, Charlie. Go on in there, and I’ll be right back with some clothes.”

  With a never-ending love in her eyes, she left to get the clothes and I sat on the bed and cried some more. I missed my daddy. He would make all of this go away. I’d been dealt a shit hand, and I was ready to fold. Momma would have held me and wiped away my tears. She would have told me she loved me as she played with my hair and just made it all seemingly fade away.

  As I stared into space, Jazz came in to see me in my saddened trance.

  “Here, Charlie. Let's get you dressed.”

  I looked at her with hopeless, sad eyes, so full of fear and shame that those very emotions flowed down my cheeks.

  “You want to be alone?” she asked with a feeble voice. I knew she was blaming herself for not noticing something was askew months, even years ago. The fact of the matter was I hid it well. I could put on a fake face like a boss. There were very few people who could read me. Momma and Daddy were about it.

  “No, not till I fall asleep. You can get Briar so he isn’t left alone to think about this shit storm. Tell him he can have the television. I just can't stand the thought of being alone right now.”

  “Sure thing, Charlie. I’ll be right back.”

  She headed out of the room to talk to Briar.

  In the time she was gone, the silence and my thoughts consumed me, and the memories of Hensley flooded my mind. Unable to contain the tears, I found myself in a corner of the room, curled up into a ball and sobbing uncontrollably. I was a broken shell of a person. Why did I let that piece of shit control and manipulate my mind for so long? Why did I not get out years ago? Was it because I thought I didn’t have anyone left after the accident? Or was I afraid that no one would want to be with me after they found out my most shameful and painful regret?

  Briar had apparently heard my cries because he came running into the room and saw me in the corner. He approached with extreme caution, speaking gently and softly as he squatted beside me. “Charlie girl, it’s okay. It’s me. There’s nothing to be afraid of, baby girl. Jazz and I are here, and we aren’t leaving. You want Jazz to lie with you?”

  All I could do was nod. My head was so heavy, filled with so much confusion, pain, shame, and regret. I had to sleep. I couldn’t bare another waking minute with all the shit in my mind.

  “I’ll go get her. You need anything, anything at all?”

  I just shook my head as the tears flowed down my cheeks like river rapids. They were involuntary, and there was not a thing in the world I could do to stop them, even if I wanted to. In just a few minutes, Jazz came into the room and sat on the bed as Briar approached me cautiously. When he bent down to pick me up, I winced at his touch.

  He stepped back with a puzzled look on his face. “Charlie, are you bruised? Did I hurt you? Baby girl, talk to me.”

  I could tell he was scared and nervous for me. I locked eyes with him, which brought me back to the here and now. I responded, although I would’ve rather not had the discussion with Briar. “Uh, yeah. I'm bruised and sore, but you didn’t hurt me. I’m just jumpy. I'm so sorry. I know you aren’t him, but I just can't help it. Please bear with me,” I pled.

  I needed to know that these two were still with me, that no matter what I did they would be there for and with me. I couldn’t even imagine my life without those two in it. Briar and Jazz locked eyes, and she nodded her beautiful head. I loved how they didn’t need words because they knew each other's minds and how the other one worked. I yearned for a love like that. I wanted a soul mate who had that capability more than anything. I was so jealous of them, yet so happy and excited that they had each other.

  “Charlie, we need to check you out so we can make sure you aren’t hurt worse than you think. Where are your bruises?”

  “Please, don’t make me show you. It’s embarrassing. Besides, this isn’t my first rodeo, remember?” I wanted the world to swallow me up right then. Admitting it was bad enough, but now I was going to have someone else look at me. Fuck, I didn’t even like looking at me, so I knew Jazz and Briar wouldn’t want to see it.

  "Charlie, we need to see if you need a doctor. We also need pictures for proof. You never know when you might end up needing them. It’s better to have them now that the wounds are fresh.” Briar was always the one with the level head in a crisis.

  Jazz piped up, “And there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. He threatened you and has already proven himself capable of hurting you. Now, I’m not asking. I’m telling you. Let us help you.”

  Briar bent down to pick me up and set me on the futon with ease. Jazz came to me and gently lifted my shirt. She stared for a minute, then turned red as the tears started flowing from her eyes. “That sorry low-life, piece-of-shit motherfucker. He’ll pay. You hear me, Charlie? He’ll fucking pay.”

  I felt the rage and sympathy radiating off her. She saw the handprints and bruises on my chest, as well as the cuts and scrapes on my ribs, but I knew her heart broke when she saw the scars on my abdomen. I wasn’t ready to talk about that. I wasn’t sure I'd ever be willing to speak of that. That night was one that will forever be seared into my memory.

  “Briar, will you go get my camera, please? It’s at the top of the closet.” Jazz had put her game face back on, but we all knew it was just for show. She was heartbroken for me, and I knew it. I wish she weren't, though.

  I don’t want people's sympathy. I don’t need it. I just need a few weeks to heal.

  He grabbed the camera and came back, cautiously asking me what my legs looked like. I knew it wasn’t worth fighting with him—he would win, with Jazz's help—so I took off my pants to reveal nasty red and purple marks on my thighs. He gasped when he laid eyes on my legs. Jazz lost her composure when she saw the bruises on my ankles from the straps he’d used to tie me down. Sobs escaped my best friend, who was trying so hard to keep it together for me. I hung my head in shame, or maybe it was defeat, and cried harder. She managed to pull it together somewhat and gently laid me back. There I was in my bra and panties with the marks of a bastard co
vering the parts of my body that were hidden by my clothes. I never wore anything that revealed the damage done to me at the hands of Hensley. Jazz quickly snapped about ten photos before she gave Briar the camera.

  “Baby, here. Will you put this back? I have enough," she asked him, almost as if she were disgusted with the camera for doing its job.

  “Sure. I'll be back in a minute.”

  I unsnapped my bra and let it fall to the floor, just wanting to put on my sleep clothes. I was caught off guard when she gasped all of a sudden. Then I realized she was gasping at me, at my chest. There, on my skin, I wore his handprints. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t forget him. The sight of the scars and bruises wouldn’t allow his presence to be released from my mind.

  “Oh, Charlie, I wish I could make it all go away.” Another sob escaped her and tears ran down her face.

  I knew she felt helpless; hell, so did I. I couldn’t say anything in response, so I just nodded. She pulled the tank over my head very carefully and helped me into the shorts. “Charlie, come over here and lay your head in my lap. I'll play with your hair.”

  She knew that’s what Momma would have done. So I let her, needing to feel close to Mom right then. She sat on the edge of the futon with her back to the wall and her legs straight out, patting her thighs for me to lie down. She stroked my hair and played with it, letting me cry it out. She cried with me—or for me, I’m not sure which. She tried to hide it, but I knew. Hell’s bells, if the roles were reversed, I’d cry for her too.

  Briar walked back in the room and bent down to kiss Jazz, then kissed the top of my head. “Charlie, I promise you, you’ll never have to deal with him alone again. You will stay with Jazz or me and you won't be by yourself. Not until you’re ready, that is. Now close those pretty eyes of yours and get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  It was all I could do to muster up, "Okay, thank you.”

  Briar grabbed the remote, sat on the other end of the futon, and turned on a game. Texas versus St. Louis. It wasn’t Atlanta, but it would do. I just needed a distraction, and Briar delivered. I closed my eyes and listened to the TV.

  Assuming I was asleep, they started talking. They were trying to be quiet and not wake me, but I heard them. I just chose to leave my eyes closed.

  “Let's let her sleep,” Briar whispered.

  “I don’t want to leave her alone tonight. Will you sleep in here with us?”

  “Sure, baby. Anything you or Charlie need. Where is the air mattress?”

  "In the hall closet.”

  “I’ll blow it up in there, so the sound of the air pump doesn’t wake her."

  He started to walk out, but I heard him stop suddenly. "Jazz, what are we going to do? She is not staying by herself. I want to be here for you since I know you aren’t going to leave her side. I just don’t think the stubborn-ass woman is going to agree so willingly. You know she doesn't want anyone to fuss over her. I need to be here for you two just in case that crazy fucker tries anything.”

  “Baby, we’ll figure it out tomorrow. Let's just sleep on it and start fresh in the morning, yeah?”

  He turned to go get the mattress and Jazz stopped him, “Briar, thank you for being here with us. I love you, and I love how you love Charlie too. You know she thinks of you like a brother.”

  “I love you too. Of course, I’m here. She’s your best friend, and I love her just as much as you do. She’s the sister I never had.”

  I HAD CRIED SO much that I totally exhausted myself. So, of course, I slept like a teenager. When morning came, I opened my swollen, puffy eyes and saw Jazz and Briar on the air bed beside the futon I lay in. I had the best of friends.

  I looked around for my bra and found it at the end of the futon, grabbed it, and then quickly and quietly snuck out of the room and found the bathroom. Jazz had suggested a long time ago that I leave a toothbrush at her house because I was there so often, so I grabbed it and brushed my teeth. When I was done rinsing my mouth, I wiped my lips with a hand towel and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The sight before me made me sick. Not the short-statured, long blonde-haired, silver-blue-eyed girl who was staring back at me, but instead the beaten, battered, and broken person who resembled me.

  That wasn’t me, not at all. Annie Charlene Winstead was a fighter. She was a quick-witted, spunky, fearless, full-of-life smartass. She was full of laughter and stronger than the reflection that stared back at her. For crying out loud, she had lost both parents on the same night and was left to fend for herself in this big ol' world extremely abruptly. To think that a man had changed me to this degree was sickening. But not any more sickening than the fact that I’d just referred to him as a man. He wasn’t a man at all, just a chickenshit male human being.

  There, in my best friend's bathroom, I made a vow to myself. I vowed that I would never let another man treat me the way I had let Hensley treat me. I would never let a man break me emotionally or physically again. The realization wasn’t lost on me that it wasn’t all going to be wine and roses; the road ahead was going to be long and winding. But with the support of two of the best friends in the world and my girls on the ball team, I was sure I would make it. Although the girls hadn’t a clue what I had been through, they would still serve as a great distraction from my reality, and that was worth more than I could even express.

  What kind of morning would it be without coffee? I left the sickening reflection and the promises I had made to that girl in the mirror behind for a nice cup of wake-me-up to start a new day.

  My cell phone started ringing. I didn’t want to wake up Jazz and Briar, so I answered it hurriedly without even looking at the caller ID. “Hello?” I whispered.

  “Did you miss me last night?” Hensley said with a cocky chuckle.

  My heart stopped and my breath caught in my throat. He continued. “I think the shoulder will be just fine, but you are going to pay for it, you worthless bitch.”

  All that was going through my mind at that point was the memories of what I had been through and the promises I had just made myself. Suddenly, all the fear left me, only to be replaced with hatred and loathing for the monster on the other end of the line. Being quiet so I didn’t wake the sleeping couple down the hall was low on my priority list at that very moment.

  “Listen to me, you sorry sack of horseshit. I have more than paid for that little shoulder graze. You put me through hell, you broke my spirit and soul, and you’ve scarred my body so that I’ll never be able to forget you. Every time I see my goddamned ankles, I’ll be reminded of you and the sick ways you got your rocks off. I told you last night that I was done, and I fucking meant it. I won't be the weak, scared person you turned me into for another minute. Charlie is back, the Charlie I thought you loved, the one I assumed you wanted. I am back and taking no shit from anyone, especially you. I am bringing me back, the funny, witty, happy Charlie. If you think you’ll get another day of my happiness, you are sadly mistaken.”

  Rage fueled the comments that followed as I kept going. “How’d it feel, huh? How’d it feel to hold down a little woman who physically couldn’t fight you off and beat her like a dog? Do you feel more like a man because you took down a person who is a foot shorter than you and a hundred and twenty-five pounds lighter? I hope you got what you needed from it because you won't get a chance to do it again. You are nothing to me anymore. I’m better than you, and I can't believe I let you use me for three years.”

  My chest was heaving. I had to catch my breath and gather my wits. Unfortunately, that gave the bastard a chance to speak.

  “Charlie, you are damaged goods. No man will ever want you now. You’re all scarred up and that screams you’re a pushover, nothing more than a weak girl.”

  “Listen here, you son of a bitch. I don’t need a man, so I don't care if anyone wants me. I’d rather be alone than with somebody like you ever again. The scars you gave me serve as a reminder that I am not that girl anymore. I don’t need to have a man to survive and be happy.
I’m done talking to you. Don’t ev—”

  “You listen here, Char. You are mine. You know it, and I know it. Come home and we will work it out. I'll never lay another unwanted hand on you, baby, I swear.”

  I started screaming at him. “You dumb bastard. I fell for that shit for years. You couldn’t tell the truth if you tried. Just answer this. Did you ever love me? Was it ever anything more than a conquest for you? How could you? Why did you break my heart?”

  I had woken Jazz and Briar at that point. Sadly, I didn’t care. "I loved you. Still do. Why can't you see that?”

  His answer kind of shocked me. “Mainly because you hit me and raped me. Or was that why you loved me? You didn’t think another woman would put up with you and your perverted antics. I was the stupid girl who stayed out of fear. Fear of not ever finding anyone else, fear that if I tried you would beat me worse, or go after my friends. Or being held down and fucked with no say so, only to get my ass whipped for crying about it, or crying when the punches or the lashes from the belt bit into my skin and blood seeped down my torso. Let's not forget the times that you ended up cutting me with God knows what. Fuck you, Hensley. Find yourself another girl. We are done. I am not coming back, and I am most certainly not yours. It’s just you and your hand, darlin’. Do yourself a favor and don’t be as rough with yourself as you were with me, because I'm telling you from experience that it fucking hurts. That is the last thing I have to say to you.”

  Briar grabbed the phone from me. “Look, asshole, if you make any contact with Charlie, Jazz, or me again, I’ll make sure you die. If you have half a brain, you will heed my advice because I ain’t fuckin’ playin’. And I have reinforcements who will make sure to back me.”

  He was talking about his motorcycle club, The Chosen Legion. One thing I did know about them—they were chosen brothers. They were relentless about protecting each other and their families. Seeing as I was like Briar’s sister, I was included in that family. But as much as I appreciated them, they intimidated the shit out of me. They were all big, rough, and loud. I didn’t see how Briar fit in, since he wasn’t like that at all. Don’t get me wrong; he was a total badass when he needed to be, but he didn’t exude badass biker.