The Wrong Side of Rock Bottom

by Jennifer Foor

  My fingers run through her curls as I listen for the sound of her breathing to change. When I’m sure she’s sound asleep I stand I stretch. It’s been rough trying to make the trek without taking breaks. Of course, we stop often to use the bathroom and eat, and now obviously to sleep. I’m just about to climb back under the covers with Mila when I hear the sound of bathroom door opening. A light, followed by a cloud of steam comes out first, proceeded by a very attractive, wet female in an extra small towel. She smirks when she notices I’m checking her out. Her voice remains in a whisper. “Are you sure you want to sleep over there? I mean, I have the whole bed to myself, and no pajamas to keep me warm.” The towel drops. Once again her beauty captivates me.

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I attempt to turn away. “Goodnight, Sadie.”

  She doesn’t try to get my attention again. Instead I hear the other bed creaking as she enters it. The covers shuffle and finally the room is silent.

  Restless, I stare at the dark ceiling, praying I’m able to stop thinking about the dream, and the very naked young woman in the bed next to mine.

  I’m not real sure how long it takes, but the sound of her voice grabs my attention. “I killed him because of the monster he became. No child should have to go through what I did. I couldn’t take it anymore. I just snapped. It all happened so fast. I don’t remember doing it, just standing over his dying body afterwards, watching and waiting for him to take his last breath.”

  This isn’t what I suspected she would say to me. I roll over and face her, leaning on my elbow. “What did he do, Sadie? What happened?”

  “Nothing at first.” Her words are mumbled, and I can sense a bit of fear as she continues. “My grandmother started forgetting things, maybe when I was fifteen. My dad always drank too much, but it got worse when he lost the house. I’d been staying with my grandmother for a while, because I couldn’t take being alone all the time. Mrs. Melissa was nice, but she could never take the place of my mom, and my dad didn’t come home until the bars closed, so I was always having to fend for myself. My grandmother wasn’t going to sit around knowing I was being neglected. After all, I was the only grandchild she had left.”

  There’s another pause.

  “I swear it couldn’t have been a week after her diagnosis. My father got paid on Fridays, and on this particular occasion he was trashed when he arrived home in the wee hours of the morning. I’d heard him come in, and cracked my door to see if he could make it up the steps before passing out.”

  She’s quiet again for a couple seconds. I can tell she wants me to hear this, but fights with her own demons to get it out.

  “He kept screaming for my mother, over and over again. I put a pillow over my head, turned on headphones and thought it would be enough. But it wasn’t. I’m not going to go into details. Neither of us wants to hear what he did to me that night, or the five other times he thought I was my mother. At first I swore he didn’t remember. I wanted to tell someone, but who would believe me? I’d been getting into trouble at school, and everyone knew I hated my dad. They’d think I was acting out to get away from him.”

  Now she’s crying, and I can’t stand it. I’ve known her for almost a week, and not once have I felt sorry for her, not like this. Slipping from my bed, I take the spot beside her and wrap my arms around her abdomen. Kissing the side of her head, I let her know she’s going to be okay. “I’m so sorry, Sadie. It’s over now.”

  “I know,” she agrees, turning to face me. Even in the dark room I can see that she’s looking right at me. “I never told anyone what he did to me.” She’s sobbing. “I’m disgusting. He ruined me, and just when I thought it couldn’t get worse he mentioned remembering it. After that I knew there was only one way to get away from him. I know what I did was wrong, but I couldn’t take it anymore. That vial disgrace for a man didn’t deserve to breathe. He took everything from me. How can a father hurt his own child? How could he…” She can’t find the words to finish, and I don’t want her to.

  Pulling her even closer, I let her weep. Not once do I think of this as a sexual embrace, at least not until the sobs stop, and we’re just two people, in each other’s arms, needing something more.

  I brush the hair away from her face. “You need to know that not all fathers fail their children.”

  Her head is pressed against my chest now, while I slowly stroke her back. “I know. Look at what you’ve gone through for Mila. I admire you. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’re a wonderful person. I’m glad you were there at the house. I still feel horrible for coming onto you that night for the purpose of turning you in. It was before I knew you, what you’d gone through, and the reason you were running.”

  “It’s okay. We’re past that.”

  “I don’t expect us to stay friends. You need a fresh start, and I’m just a broken girl with a lot of problems to sort through. I get it. I just wish that you’d see me as more than a runaway juvenile. I’ve been a woman for a long time, Rogan. I was forced to be. I thought that maybe if we were together I’d finally know the difference.”

  “Difference?” I’m confused.

  “I was forced to grow up way too soon. First with the loss of my mom and brother, and then the physical and other abuse I had to endure from my father, and lastly the actions I had to take to make them stop. I’m not innocent. I know what I want, but at the same time, I have no idea what it feels like to be in love, because I’ve never been able to love myself. When I look in the mirror I see a coward. I see someone who didn’t have the nerve to tell my grandmother or my teachers what he was doing to me. I see a little girl who never got to understand what true loves means, not until I met you.”

  Before I can tell her she’s way out of line and absolutely wrong, she corrects me. “I’m not talking about us, Rogan. I’m not naïve. I’m speaking of the love you feel for your daughter and wife. It was real wasn’t it? Unconditional?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  Her tear-filled eyes tell me how sincere this is. “I hope one day I’ll be that lucky.”

  “I wouldn’t call this luck. To be honest, I don’t know if Etherly was ever able to truly love me, at least not the way I felt about her. She was selfish, and love isn’t selfish. It’s everything but.”

  “It sucks to hurt,” she acknowledges.

  “I agree.”

  Still wrapped in each other’s arms, the room is quiet again. While trying to fall asleep I think back to my marriage and the sacrifices I made to keep Etherly happy. I think about her lies, and the things she did behind my back. For the first time I feel angry about it. Her selfishness ruined everything. Because of her actions, I almost lost Mila forever, I still could. It only proves to me that my marriage was a sham, at least everything I assumed to be love.

  I’ve spent about a week with a woman who has also lost everything. She’s struggling, hurt, and scared. Much like my situation, she’s in a dire situation and her only option is to run. Feeling obligated to her help along the way, I kiss the top of her head again and rest my chin on it. Her being naked mixed with the dream doesn’t make this easy, but it’s the right thing to do. I’m not a masochist. I can’t give her what she’s asking and feel okay about it. This isn’t a dare, and I won’t stoop to her maturity level in order to appease her. I simply close my eyes and speak in a calming tone. “Sex isn’t love, Sadie. It won’t make the pain go away, and I refuse to hurt you more than you already are. It’s not that I don’t want to. You’re amazing, beautiful, and determined. You’ve been kind to my daughter, and I’m forever grateful for that, but I’m not taking it to that next level, I can’t, because one day you’ll look back on this and understand why and appreciate me for it.”

  I hear sniffling again against me. “I’m afraid of being alone.”

  “Get some rest. You can stay with us. We’ll figure something out together. Plus I’m going to need help with Mila and I don’t trust anyone else.”

  She pulls away from my hold to look
into my eyes. “You trust me? Even after what I just told you?”

  I nod. “Yeah, I guess I do.” Her secret was a burden. She’s petrified of the repercussions, but probably more afraid of the world learning what she endured. It’s disgusting, vial, and that man deserved what he got. Hell, if I’d have known him and found that out I would have been the first in line to put a bullet in him. She made the world a better place. Being with Sadie and getting to know her has only taught me that the judicial system is a sham. We’re victims.

  “Thank you, Rogan.”

  “Stop thanking me. I’m not a hero. I’m just a dad who wants another chance to make things right for my child.”

  “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

  “Then you haven’t met many. I’m nothing spectacular, well, with the exception of my charm. Apparently I have that going on,” I tease.

  We both laugh lightly as she nestles back against my body. Being skin-to-skin, feeling her this close gives me comfort. I’ve spent a lot of nights in a bed alone and it’s extremely difficult. Mila helps when she’s there with me, but not like the comfort of another woman, and I need to start seeing Sadie as one.

  “I could easily fall in love with you.” After the unexpected confession, she kisses me softly on the lips, though I know it’s more of a peaceful gesture than anything sexual. When she pulls away her mouth tucks into my neck and then she’s silent, falling victim to her own exhaustion.

  I’m still awake for a while after that. I’ve never had the opportunity to be selfish. From a young age I’ve always been a caregiver for someone. I suppose in a lot of ways it comes natural. I’m not an alpha male with huge muscles and a mouth to back up my brag appeal. I’m just an ordinary guy, pretty okay looking, if I do say so myself, but normal. I work hard, and love even harder, maybe because I’ve been hurt more times than I’d like to admit. I have compassion for those suffering, and tend to find solace in being that person people need to count on. Sadie fits right into my life, but I’m still not sure what kind of label I’d put on it. Sure, I’m uncontrollably attracted to her in a dangerous way. She’s the most beautiful female to ever throw herself at me. I’m doing my best to see her as an adult, but a part of me knows that inside she’s a child running scared, and I refuse to take advantage of that. Right now she needs a father figure; someone to promise her that things can be okay, and that not all men want to hurt her and take away her innocence. Even if we met by chance, I know what part I need to play in her life, for as long as we stick together, whether I like it or not.

  Chapter 18

  We’re thirty miles from the Mexican border and I feel like I’m going to throw up or pass out. For the past four hours we’ve been working with Mila on being called Willa. I’ve come to the conclusion that if she slips I’ll just say she’s unable to pronounce her W’s. Sadie and I have been practicing our new names too. We’ve made a pact that as soon as we cross the border we’re no longer going to be Rogan and Sadie, but instead Rana and Ryan.

  It’s funny how comfortable I am about it. All my life I’ve wished I could be someone else, and now I have the opportunity to make that happen, as long as my passport holds up.

  We start passing signs for the border and I think we’re both freaking out. Mila falls asleep, which makes me feel like that could be in our best interest if the officers question us.

  Ten miles out and I’m sweating bullets. “I’ve never been so scared in my life, not even when I took Mila.”

  “Willa,” Sadie corrects.

  “You know what I mean.”

  Her hand comes over and laces with mine. “We’re in this together, Ryan, right?”

  “Yeah,” I say with a conjured smile. In my gut I have a bad feeling. I can’t expect everything to go smoothly, not when life has been a constant struggle since the day I was born.

  Torturing myself doesn’t pay off. We reach the border and approach the booth. They bring dogs around the vehicle to sniff for drugs, while I hand over our fake passports and insurance information on the car, telling the officer that we’re traveling to Mexico to get married on a family vacation. Next thing we know we’re being asked to pull over to an inspection zone, and I know exactly what it means. Something is wrong.

  Another officer approaches, carrying our paperwork. It’s a female, maybe a buck fifty in weight, dark brown hair with a large handgun strapped to her hip. She leans into the driver’s side and opens Rana’s little blue book. “Ma’am the reason we’re stopping you is because your passport is getting ready to expire.” She points to the date on the inside and sure enough it expires in only three days.

  I can feel my fingertips starting to numb from my nerves as I contemplate what to do. I need to get across that border. I’m feet away from being in the clear and now this.

  “What if we only stayed for three days? Can we still go? It’s our wedding. I didn’t even notice the dates. I’ve been too busy with everything else.”

  “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way, ma’am. If we let every person through with an expiring passport I’d be in a world of trouble.”

  She begins to cry, and I’m not sure if it’s a rouse or she’s really breaking down. “I can’t believe this is happening to us. All we wanted to do was get married.”

  “You ‘ll need to get in contact with the U.S. State Department. There are no guarantees, but sometimes they’ll be lenient about issuing a temporary passport.”

  “Temporary?” Her eyes light up with hope.

  “Yeah. It’s only for certain situations when U.S. citizens need to travel quickly and do not have sufficient time for expedited passport processing. It’s tricky though. A temporary passport is issued on a case-by-case basis and are usually for family emergencies. I don’t know your situation, but you could always get a hotel nearby and see if they’ll grant you that option. If not you’ll need to get an expedited passport, which will take at least another week, and cost you extra.”

  I can already tell she’s freaking out inside. “Do you mind if I talk this over with my fiancée?”

  The woman nods and walks away, tending to the next person in a similar situation.

  Sadie turns to look at me and I can already tell I’m not going to like what she has to say. “You need to get across that border.”

  “I told you we were a team.”

  She shakes her head. “No. We’re not. I’m a liar. My father never touched me. I’ve been using you this whole time to get what I want, and now I need to take matters into my own hands.”

  I’m confused, but not in any condition to comprehend anything she’s saying could be the truth. There have been so many lies. I’ve tried to do the right thing by her only to learn of her deceit. I’m not certain of the real reason she murdered her father. Maybe everything she said was fabricated so that I’d take pity on her. I’ve been manipulated before.

  She shoves me back against the car. “Just go! Get in that car and don’t stop driving.”

  “It’s your car.”

  “Take the car.” There are tears in her eyes. “I’m not a good person, and your daughter doesn’t need to be around someone like me. I’m a loose cannon. At least let me do something good in my life. Take the car. Go start your new life.”

  “What will you do?”

  Her demeanor changes. “I’m going to do what I should have done in the first place.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s not your concern.” She reaches up and kisses me on the cheek. “You’re a good man. Tell the little one goodbye for me, and when your toes finally reach that sandy beach think of me, okay?”

  “Don’t, Sadie.” This isn’t about being on our own. It’s something else entirely; something I’ve been fighting, and trying to deny since she came into my life.

  “Thank you for showing me.”

  “Showing you what?” I ask as she’s backing up.

  “I think you know the answer.”

  I’m in shock as I watch her walk away. />
  I’ve been sitting in the car expecting her to come back for nearly thirty minutes.

  A few unmarked vehicles pull into the building in a hurry and it catches my attention. I’m not sure what agency they’re from, but it looks serious. I’m sweating like a pig, contemplating what in the hell is going on, all while watching my sleeping child and wondering if this will be the last moments we get to spend together. I picture her being pulled from my arms, and the anguish I remember seeing in her eyes. I can’t handle losing her again. If it happens I don’t think I’ll want to go on.

  I wait for what seems like forever, until I’m being waved to move the vehicle. Out of the corner of my eyes I see something that makes me panic. Sadie is in handcuffs. The same woman who helped us with our passports is talking to some of the agents who arrived. I would think she was trying to help except for the part where Sadie is restrained.

  What did she do?

  I stop someone that I know came out of the same building and inquire about the situation. “Hey man, what’s that about?”

  “Some crazy chick said she hitched a ride with some innocent bystander to flee the state after killing someone. It got crowded real quick, so they sent me on my way.” He keeps walking until he steps into a newer recreational vehicle with Florida tags.

  From across the parking lot our eyes meet and I know I’m running out of time. Quickly I pull back into the booth line and proceed with a different security officer, giving him my credentials , proof of insurance, and the car registration all while praying we’re allowed access this time. After the same few questions, my passport is stamped and handed back to me. I can tell he’s preoccupied with what’s going on with Sadie. He’s not even paying attention to the fact that the name on the registration and insurance isn’t mine. He’s just verifying the papers are there and waving me along. In fact, some people are standing out of the their cars watching it all unfold. As soon as I’m through the gates and passing the welcome sign I feel a rush of relief, but also a sinking knot in my stomach I don’t think I’ll ever be able to relieve.