Coming Altered: Welcome to Carson, Book Four

by Renee Harless

  “And…everyone else will just tag along because I’ve learned by now that there is nothing I can do to stop them,” Dylan adds with a shake of his head.

  “You got that right, handsome,” Shirley Fitzgerald chimes in from her placement on the couch next to her sister Temple.

  The two women never discuss their ages, but from a time Cassidy can remember they’ve always repeated that they were seventy-five, and that has been going on for at least fifteen years. The sisters are the heads of the Carson Lady’s Busy Bees, a local community group and gossip central. Anyone that knows anything hears it from that group. They also run the local fabric store, which immediately gives Cassidy an idea.

  As the two women argue about the best qualities of the town’s newest residents, apparently, a naked toned ass is in the lead, Cassidy stands from her chair and goes over to speak to them about renting a spot in their fabric store for her garments.

  “Ladies,” she begins.

  “Yes, dear?” they inquire simultaneously.

  “How would you like to partake in a new venture?”

  THE DRIVE TO CHATTANOOGA, Tennessee is long and the ride in the truck does little to settle Cassidy’s nerves. She and Dylan don’t speak, allowing the crackling of the radio to fill the void.

  Sirens wail around them, the police escort and motorcycle accompaniment helping to break up their ride from three long hours into half of the time. Cassidy stares at the dashboard ahead of her, the red and blue lights flashing on the black vinyl artistically pulsing at the same rate as her heart.

  “We’re here,” Dylan says as he pulls into a parking lot for the Welcome Center.

  Cassidy glares out the front window into the blackness of the night, barely illuminated by the street lamps and flashing police lights. Something inside her feels unsettled and that feeling intensifies as everyone begins to exit their vehicles to glance around the space.

  She watches as her brother Jameson hops out of her father’s truck, laptop in hand, and walks around the perimeter of the building before stopping by the curb outside the fencing for the oversized trash container. Dylan walks over to the area, hands clad in white latex gloves, and reaches down to grab a tangled and crushed mess of plastic and glass.

  Cassidy steps from the car as everyone bows their heads in defeat and despair. She hears Heath acknowledge that he is going to speak with the manager to ask if they have seen Harlan, and then will get permission to search the trash and surrounding area for evidence, or in the worst case, a body. From the corner of her eye, Cassidy witnesses Nan arguing with her husband about something, her foot stomping in frustration.

  As the majority of the people, including her family, descend into the Welcome Center, Cassidy motions her head frantically as she looks around the area.

  No. Something isn’t right. I would know if he was gone. I would feel it, she thinks to herself.

  Something inside pulls at her, gnaws at her heart, pleads for her to trust her instincts.

  In an act, completely uncharacteristic for her, Cassidy rushes to the other side of Dylan’s truck and jumps into the driver seat. With the turn of the key the engine roars to life and Cassidy feels her body take over. A deep sensation, a feeling unlike any other, seizes her soul and Cassidy is lost in the compulsion to rescue her man.

  Her heart thumps wildly in her chest and she pulls the truck back onto the highway and juts across the median using the gravel path. Out of the corner of her eye she sees her family rush towards their vehicles as the Brass Sparrows guide their bikes behind her – but she is long gone.

  She passes by two exits at breakneck speed, dodging what little traffic exists on the highway at the late hour.

  “Where are you, Harlan?” she whispers into the empty cab, tapping her hands anxiously on the steering wheel.

  Just then, an indiscernible exit sign pops up – no gas, no food, no outlet – and Cassidy jerks hard on the wheel needing to take the ramp. Something inside her controls the muscles that turn the wheel, efficiently darting across the tractor-trailers in the lanes next to her.

  She bites at her lips nervously as her body shakes in anticipation, the adrenaline surging through her system.

  Cassidy travels the older highway for a mile or two before a dimly lit road-side motel comes into view. She instantly feels that this is it; this is where her other half waits. Three broken down vehicles park haphazardly in the lot. One of the motel doors hangs open loosely from the hinges, but as Cassidy slows she finds a black van parked along the side of the motel.

  Cutting her lights, she pulls into the lot unable to wait for the others.

  Taking a deep breath Cassidy jumps from the truck and grabs her Beretta Nano from the back of her jeans, checks the barrel, then turns off the safety of the gift her father gave her the day she moved to New York.

  “I’m here, babe. I’m coming to get you.”

  IS HEAD ACHES AND pounds as his body slips back into consciousness. He pries his eyes open a smidge but quickly shuts them as a bright light glares towards him causing him to groan, the vibration aching his parched throat.

  “Well, well, well. It’s about time you came around. For a moment, I thought I mixed the stuff wrong, but you were still breathing so I figured it couldn’t have been strong enough to kill you,” the crazed woman says as she moves around, Harlan’s eyes still tightly closed from the assault by the light.

  “What stuff?” Harlan asks as he licks at his dry lips, slowly attempting to open his eyes from the drug-induced haze.

  “GHB,” she explains curtly.

  Harlan has heard of the drug before, but he isn’t familiar with what it does, just that it’s popular with a lot of the groupies.

  Finally, able to open his eyes completely, he takes in the surroundings of the room. Mold crawls up the bottom of the walls, reaching for the yellow and green dusty curtains. A television sits on a dilapidated dresser, drawers hanging loosely from their holds.

  Taking a deep breath, a sense of anxiety sweeps over him and he has to swallow back the urge to vomit at the putrid smell emanating in the room.

  Harlan watches as Ann skips over to the second bed in the room and places a lock of hair in the middle of the pile of pictures. As he squints to gain a better view his eyes widen in alarm at the assortment of photos covering the bed – profiles, group shots, black and white, color, clothed, and nude.

  Photos of his woman, his Cassidy.

  “What the fuck!” he shouts as he tugs at the restraints on his arms and legs, but the holds tighten against him.

  “What?” Francesca replies coyly. “Did you think you were the only one in love with her? That wanted to be with her?” His eyes widen as she moves from her collage to kneel on Harlan’s bed, crawling towards him, before hoisting one leg over his body to straddle his thighs. “I’ve followed Cassidy for a long time; her entire career really. She bumped into me on the subway her first day in New York. I remember it like it was yesterday. She was struggling to hold onto her bags and knocked into me. She apologized about a hundred times and the moment I smelt her vanilla scent I was a goner; I had to have her,” she explains as she scrapes a fingernail down his shirt covered chest.

  Francesca’s eyes glance around crazily when they hear a door shut in the room next to them. Her pause gives him a moment to take in her haggard appearance. Normally she wears dull clothing designed to overpower her, to help her blend in, but as she sits atop him, exuding her dominance, she’s changed into someone unrecognizable. Her hair is piled high upon her head, tightly pulling the skin on her face, giving her a gaunt appearance. The white shirt she wears is overly tight and damp from her sweat in the hot room, and the shorts she wears cover less than a bathing suit. His manager’s assistant looks as if she could be a part of the groupie trio that tried their best to snag him a few days ago.

  Her attention returns and he tries to sit back as she leans into him, but finds little give in his restraints.

  “She hasn’t dated anyone serious in al
l the years I’ve followed her. Her career means too much. And when the opportunity arose, I worked it out so I could make my move.” Ann leans in even closer, her mouth a mere inch from his cheek as she claims, “But then you came along and ruined everything. I did everything I could to get you to back off and surely my plan to exploit your reputation should have been enough, but she’s so fucking understanding. It makes me want her even more. And then I switched it up and tried to freak her out by trashing her bus and leaving all of your used condoms on the bed. Hell, I even offered my bus to her, but she didn’t take it.”

  “My what?” he says in disgust.

  “Don’t you worry about her. She’s going to be so distraught when she finds out you’ve left the band and moved away without a word. But I’ll be there to comfort her,” she maliciously asserts before her tongue swipes across his cheek in a manner that repulses him. She leans into his ear, brushing her breasts against his chest, and assures, “She will be mine.”

  In complete disgust and anger for what this woman has put him and Cassidy through, Harlan presses his heels into the mattress before thrusting his hips upward as hard and abruptly as possible. As expected, Ann launches off the bed, arms swinging wildly, before landing on the floor, her head bouncing off the night stand in the process.

  “Ow, dammit!” she shouts as she stands and rushes towards the bathroom holding the open wound, now bleeding profusely, through her fingers.

  Harlan frantically searches the room before resting his gaze at his wrists, the leather straps wound tightly before meeting under the bed. Praying for a metal bedframe he moves his arms up and down in hopes to rub the leather strap against the surface in an attempt to wear away the material. His arms start to tire as he makes little head way, but he continues to rock his arms back and forth.

  “You stupid piece of shit,” Ann cries out as she steps from the bathroom triggering Harlan to stop his movements.

  That’s when he sees it, the gun she carries steadily in her hand, her thumb cocking back the hammer in her anger.

  She shoots once, her unfamiliar hold of the gun causing it to shoot upwards as it bounces her arms. Ann steadies her stance and cocks the hammer again. Harlan closes his eyes as he recognizes that his time is done, Ann is going to make sure that he doesn’t make it out of this room. He visualizes Cassidy lying in his bed, a memory so familiar, but this time she wears his ring on her hand. Harlan smiles at the image as the scent of strawberries waft through the air.

  A click sounds and Harlan recognizes the noise of the misfire. He opens his eyes to watch the scene unfold, but before Ann has a chance to react to her misfortune, the hotel door swings open wide and smashes against the wall, the door handle lodging itself into the plaster.

  Then his angel, clad in her white jacket, walks into the room, gun drawn, and eyes on fire.

  “Drop the gun, now,” she commands as she stands with her hands cradling the butt of the gun, ready to fire at will.

  Even in a moment like this Harlan can’t help but think she is sexy as hell, his avenging angel.

  Ann points her gun towards him once again with a shaky hand as she acknowledges Cassidy’s entrance.

  “You need to leave, Cassidy. I’m making this better for us. So we can be together.”

  “What?” his beauty whispers but never waivers from her stance.

  “I did it all for you! I do everything for you!” Ann shouts before pulling the trigger again, but the action is moot as the bullet lodged in the chamber remains stuck.

  Cassidy wastes no time, the moment she witnesses Francesca’s attempt to take him out she fires the trigger of her gun with precision and accuracy, landing a shot in the shoulder of the arm that holds the gun. Francesca immediately drops to the ground and un-lodges her hand from the weapon.

  Harlan’s ears ring as the shot echoes in the room but his attention stays on Cassidy. With poise and class, she tucks the gun into the back waistband of her jeans after securing the safety and rushes towards him.

  “Are you alright?” she questions as she frantically runs her hands over his body checking for injuries.

  Ignoring her concern, he asks her, “How did you find me?”

  “We can talk about it once I get you out of here,” she argues as she leans over the bed unraveling his wrists from their restraints.

  Cassidy bites at her bottom lip when one of the ties doesn’t release as quickly and her body shakes with anxiety.

  “Hey,” he says as she gets his second wrist free.

  When she turns to face him his heart breaks at the tears slowly cascading down her cheeks. He leans forward and undoes the tie around one of the ankles while she works on the other, but his eyes never leave her face, the sorrow unyielding.

  “Cassidy.” Reaching over, he takes her hand into his and rubs his thumb along her reddened knuckles. She doesn’t pull away but her eyes widen like a scared cat’s. “Come here, sweetheart,” he murmurs as he tugs on her hand.

  She crawls across the bed towards him and curls her body in his lap, her arms reaching around to tighten her hold on him, and he mimics the movement, never wanting to let her go.

  The cries from Ann in the corner go unheard, Harlan focusing everything inside him on the woman silently weeping in his arms. A hint of strawberry floats past him again before his nose fills with Cassidy’s vanilla scent.

  He doesn’t notice when a group of bikers enter the room or the police sirens blare outside the motel, his attention remains on the delicate flower squeezing him firmly.

  Harlan pulls back a tad and unwraps his arms from around Cassidy’s waist. With his thumbs, he wipes away the moisture from her cheeks and tucks the loose pieces of hair behind her ears.

  “I’m so happy to see you.”

  She nods in agreement and he presses a kiss to her plump lips.

  “I love you, Cass,” Harlan admits as he watches the police leave the room with Ann.

  Cassidy’s focus never relinquishes as the scene unfolds behind her. Her face transforms into a radiant smile at Harlan’s declaration and he finds himself mimicking her glow when she replies, “I love you, too.”

  THE EVENING FELL AWAY in a blur of papers, photos, and statements, Harlan barely remembers any of it but as he sits across from Cassidy in the Starbucks down the street from the police station, he can’t help but watch the sunrise from behind her in a new light.

  Though the orange and yellow glow can’t compare to the beauty sitting before him, Harlan feels a new sensation deep in his bones – gratefulness for this gift of life.

  “Thank you for calling my parents. I was surprised to see them.”

  She glances up at him from her steaming cup of coffee and smiles.

  “They were both really worried. Your mom is really sweet and your dad…well he is a bit rough around the edges, but he did shed a tear when he saw that you weren’t hurt.”

  “Yeah, I think I’m still coming to terms with that.”

  Cassidy giggles and Harlan smiles as she brings her left hand to her mouth.

  Then he remembers the box and his heart flutters in a combination of fear and anticipation.

  “Hey, did you, um…happen to open the box I gave you?”

  Jumping in her seat she reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out the box.

  “I did. But I only had the chance to plug in the flash drive before Anthony called me.”

  She holds up the small box on the flat of her palm, the white almost blending into the paleness of her skin.

  Taking a deep breath and swallowing his nerves he insists, “You should finish opening it.”

  Like a child waking on Christmas morning Cassidy opens the top of the box and snatches the note tucked on top.

  Harlan waits for the words to sink in, the words not originally intended as a proposal but seem too perfect to overlook.

  She glances at him in surprise, then looks back down at the note, then back at him.

  “Look in the box, sweetheart,” Harlan says as he m
oves from his booth to kneel beside her.

  She moves aside the small bit of tissue paper and Harlan recognizes the moment she discovers his grandmother’s ring. Cassidy holds up the worn gold metal encasing a series of diamond baguettes surrounding a ruby marquee setting. The unconventional ring suits his remarkable woman.

  “What is…?”

  Grasping one of her hands, Harlan takes the ring from her and holds it up between them.

  “I know this isn’t the best place to propose, and truthfully I had planned it for the end of the tour, but after everything that’s gone on I don’t want to spend another day without you.

  “I want everything with you, Cassidy. I’ll go anywhere you want to go, live wherever you want to live, as long as I can be with you. For so long I had convinced myself that you were the perfect memory, but I want that memory to be a reality. So, my sweet, Cassidy, would you do me the honor of being Mrs. Harlan Theodore Jackson?”

  Her eyes mist over as she gazes at him in wonderment.

  “Yes,” she whispers, then repeats more forcefully, “Yes.”

  Harlan glides the ruby stone onto her finger and smiles when it fits perfectly.

  As he stands from his perch on the ground, Cassidy jumps into his arms exuberantly before kissing him with an unyielding passion, causing the few customers up at the early hour, as well as the two employees, to clap at the exchange.

  “Oh my gosh, I can’t wait to tell my parents.”

  Parents?

  “Fuck!”

  “What?” Cassidy asks alarmed as she rests her newly decorated hand on his chest in concern.

  “Your father is going to rip me a new one. I never asked his permission.” Instead of joining in on his misery Cassidy tosses her head back in laughter. Harlan scowls as he says, “What?”