Twisted in You

by Fabiola Francisco

  Regardless, I was already thinking of finding somewhere else while he was on tour. Not that I was sure I would do it or not. Now, I feel like I need to, more than anything, so Tyler and I don’t become dependent on each other.

  My stomach drops when I hear the door open.

  “Red?” he calls out. I left my car parked outside so he would know I was here.

  “In here,” I reply.

  “You’re back.” Then his eyes look down at the bag by my feet. “What’s going on? I’m so sorry.” He’s shaking his head frantically.

  “We need to talk.”

  “Fuck,” he spits out and begins pacing. “Don’t—”

  “Listen to me.” I remain seated. Seeing him so emotional tears me apart. “Ty, I cannot thank you enough for opening your home to me. I’m not angry with you. I was last night, but because I know you’re much stronger than that.” He looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes.

  “I believe in you, always have. Well, not that first day or two you entered Chasing Freedom and were such a jerk,” I try to lighten the mood. He snorts and a smile tugs at his lips. “In all seriousness, I need to take time to get through the final bit of darkness that is trying to overcome me. I want to be able to walk around and not worry about being triggered. I want to be able to go out and not think someone is going to grab me. Hell, I want to be alone in a room and not hear noises.

  “The fear is exhausting and I’m tired of letting it win. I also need to be strong enough to be around you and not doubt if you’re going to relapse or not.”

  “I’m not,” he quickly exclaims.

  “I know that. Deep down, I know you won’t, but a part of me is still fearful. You were completely sober last night. I know one shot won’t do any damage, but it’s the possibility of more than one that scares me. Also, I need you to know that you’re strong enough on your own. You don’t need me validating your recovery. You’re the only person I’ve ever cared about, Ty, so I want you to triumph for your own good.”

  His eyes stare into mine and I see the green clouded like a summer thunderstorm, the rain threatening to pour.

  “Red . . .” His arms drop limply by his side.

  I smile. “Prove the world wrong.”

  I walk to him and get on my toes to kiss his cheek. My hand shakes as it lands on his shoulder. Before I pull away, he wraps his arms tightly around my middle and holds me to him.

  “Can I still call you?” he whispers into my ear.

  “I’m still here for you. I think it will be good to have some space while we both finish fighting off our pasts. We can’t become dependent or that’s another type of drug not allowing us to move forward.”

  I feel him nod his head above mine. “I . . . I want you in my life, Red.”

  “I’m right here, Ty. Not going anywhere, promise.”

  As much as I originally planned leaving Nashville, I can’t get myself to do that. I love my job and I have Sam to help me. And this is where Tyler is. I may not understand relationships or love like other people, but Tyler is important.

  “Be good and have fun.” I pull away and he releases me.

  “I will.”

  I pick up my bag and leave, giving him a final smile. I move out, but we can still be in each other’s lives. Just a little less present than we have been up until this point.

  It’s been a month since I last saw Mikayla. We text and talk on occasion, but I took her advice. Bill and I meet weekly. Talking to him got through to me quicker than the group sessions had.

  Turns out, he knew who I was all along. He’s a sneaky one. He’s been helping me a lot. I asked him if he wanted to attend the opening concert for my tour here in Nashville, so I got him some backstage passes, too. It’s the least I can do.

  I have been working real hard for this tour and working out a lot more than usual. I hate eating dinner alone, or getting home late at night and knowing there’s no one sleeping in the room across from mine. Overall, I have been focusing on building my tolerance to saying no to alcohol.

  Even though Tom spoke to Joe, I made sure to get a word in with him. He’s going on tour with me, and I need him to understand the importance and seriousness of the matter. At the end of the day, I’m the biggest name he manages and if I screw up, his salary suffers. He’s been doing a much better job being my manager and getting my name out there.

  I park in front of the stadium for tonight’s show and walk in through a side door.

  “Tyler, we were talking about you,” Joe says as he points to a group of guys. Rebel Desire. He’s told me a lot about them. Their music is good.

  “Nice to meet y’all,” I say as I approach them. They all introduce themselves, and we chat for a few minutes before we begin practicing for the show.

  I watch Rebel Desire from the side and nod. They’re good. They’re a high-energy group, and you can tell they are passionate about music.

  Once they’re done, I practice with my band.

  I move away from the group during a break and sit in a changing room alone. My phone is in my hand, and I squeeze it tight. Instead of Mikayla, Bill is my guest tonight. Something is wrong with that picture.

  “Hey.” I see Cash, the lead singer for Rebel Desire, standing at the door.

  “What’s up?”

  “Didn’t want to interrupt. I know how meaningful alone time is, but I wanted to thank you for inviting us to open this show for you.”

  “You’re welcome. You guys have something special.”

  “Thanks. Mind if I sit?” He nods his head towards an empty chair.

  “Go for it.” He sits across from me, extending his legs out. I thought I was a tall guy, but Cash is a few inches taller than me.

  I kind of expect him to speak, but he sits in silence for a little while.

  “Listen, the guys and I admire you. Hell, I think my girlfriend would leave me for you if given the chance,” he chuckles. “We know this is a big deal for us . . . You gotta make a phone call?” He points at my phone as I obsessively lock and unlock it.

  “No, sorry. Go ahead.”

  “No big deal, I wanted to tell you we appreciate it. We’ve been in the smaller Nashville scene.” I nod, knowing exactly what it’s like.

  “You guys seems to have a good head on your shoulders. I can’t imagine you not getting far.”

  “You doing good; coming back into the scene?” There it is. Of course they’ve heard what I’ve been through. Honestly, I’m surprised they trusted me enough to get their big appearance with my name tied to it considering my latest reputation.

  “Yup. It’s taking some adjustment, but I’m getting there. This tour will be good.”

  “You seem to be headed the right way.”

  “Working on it.” I look back down at my phone.

  “Don’t think that phone is going to ring on its own. Might want to make that call.”

  “She won’t answer,” I confess.

  “If I have learned anything, it’s this—you fight for the girl.”

  “She needs time. Needs me to get my shit together. She’s got enough going on in her life, too.”

  “I take it she knows how you feel?”

  I shake my head. “Nah, we’re friends and she was crashing at my place but moved out some weeks ago.”

  “Seems to me like you’re more than friends,” he states plainly.

  I shrug and set my phone down. She’s not going to call or write. I wish she were coming tonight.

  “I want to be more, but I don’t think she’s ready to hear that.”

  “When you assume, you make an ass of yourself. Ever heard that saying before?”

  I laugh. “Yeah, sure as hell have.”

  “No matter what you guys have been through, it’s worth saying what you feel sooner rather than later. Never know how much time you got.”

  “Is that what got you the girl?”

  Now he laughs. “Kinda. I called her out on stage without even knowing her name in the middle of Country Fest. S
he didn’t take the bait, but I saw her later that night. I’ve been chasing her ever since. Like a whipped fool, but I’ll take the title if I have her in my arms.”

  “You’re a romantic, huh?”

  “Yup.” He nods his head and stands, proud of the title. “Tell the girl how you feel and let her decide if she’s ready or not. Don’t make decisions for her because you’re afraid of what will happen. There’s no place for fear in love.”

  Cash walks out leaving me stunned with his words. Motherfucker, he’s right. For someone who only just met me, he sure says what he feels without sugar coating anything. I prepare for the concert, knowing I’ll be making a late-night visit afterward.

  The rush of my first concert after being absent from the music scene for a few months was great, but what pulsed energy through me as I performed were Cash’s words. Fight for the girl.

  I hop off my bike and walk up the few steps that lead to Sam’s front door, grateful she gave me her address when I asked. I didn’t wait to see what everyone was going to do after the show. I didn’t care. I had no desire to party or celebrate. All I wanted was to talk to Mikayla.

  I liked Rebel Desire though, and I sure as hell wouldn’t mind having them open the rest of my shows. I’ll talk to Joe about that tomorrow.

  Right now, the only thing I’m focused on is talking to Red.

  I wipe my palms on my jeans and reposition my ball cap. I haven’t seen her in a month. And though we’ve spoken here and there, I’ve given her space.

  I finally knock on the door. It’s late, and I pray she’s still up so we can talk. The folded paper burns in my back pocket while I wait for someone to answer the door.

  Surprised brown eyes stare at me as the door flies open. “Hi,” she croaks.

  “Hey, Red.” I sound calm, but inside I’m a mess of what ifs. I can’t risk her not being a part of my life. That thought is on constant repeat, but reality is that one drink of alcohol almost drove her from it.

  “Can I come in?” I ask after a few seconds of silence.

  “Sure. What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to talk.

  “Wasn’t today your concert?” She’d remembered.

  “Yeah. You could’ve gone, you know.”

  She shrugs and walks the few steps into the living room. I look around Sam’s place a second, but don’t really see it. All I see is a tired-looking Mikayla sitting on the couch with her feet tucked under her.

  “How was it?”

  “Good. The crowd was big and they loved the new songs.”

  Her smile catches me off guard. “I knew they would.” I relax a bit and pull out the paper from my pocket before I sit next to her.

  “I’m here for another reason though.” Before I say anything, I hand her the lyrics to Whiskey Nights.

  “What’s this?”

  “Read it. I think it’s the best way to explain what I want to say and will fuck up in the process.”

  I say the words to myself as she reads them. They’re installed in my brain like an indestructible hard drive.

  She finally looks up at me. Her lips are pursed as she blinks a few times.

  “I don’t know what to do with this.” Her voice breaks the tension a bit.

  “Don’t do anything. Let me heal your scars,” I state matter-of-factly.

  “I just . . . I don’t know.” I eye her trembling hands and hold them, my lips touching her scars.

  “Red.” I wait for her to look up at me. When her eyes lift to mine, I continue speaking. “Let us be. Let me show you that you deserve good in life. I know I’ve screwed up in my life, but I promise I will never do anything to hurt you. Not anymore.” I shake my head. “I promise you. Stay with me.” In more ways than one do I want her to stay. Physically and emotionally. What I feel for her is more than desire. I want to hold her, but I also want her to know that I am someone she can trust to help her.

  “Tyler . . . Ty, I don’t know. What do I say?” She shakes her head.

  “Mikayla, look at me. I wanted you to know how I feel. Where I stand when it comes to you. I fucked up a month ago, and I almost lost you. I’ve been trying to be so careful around you to not scare you away with my feelings, that I did exactly that by making a mistake. I don’t want to be that guy. I don’t want to be my father. I don’t want to be the man that the woman I care about is afraid of. I want to be the man that you lean on because you know I’ll always protect you.”

  Her hand reaches up and touches my cheek softly. I close my eyes and lean into her touch. Then, her finger moves down the side of my face as if she were exploring me for the first time. Maybe, in a way, she is.

  She turns to face me. “I’ve been working a lot with Sam. On a lot of things. I’m getting there, but I’m not quite fully there. We’ve talked about you.” She pauses and I focus all of my attention on her.

  “What about?” I ask when she doesn’t continue.

  “What I feel.” She looks away, but I brazenly grab her chin and bring her eyes back to mine. She speaks when my expression prods her to. “I do, I care about you. I want to be in your life, but I need to be okay first. I don’t even know if I’ll ever be able to . . .” she trails off, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what she’s hinting at.

  That’s not my priority. I’m a man, so of course I want that intimacy with her, but when it comes to her, it’s more than sex.

  “Don’t think about that now, Red. That’s not important right now. I need you with me. Always. Please,” I beg. I hold her hands again and run my thumbs over the inside of her wrists mindlessly.

  “I still need to finish figuring out my stuff. Forgiveness and all that shit Sam keeps pushing my way.” She rolls her eyes and I chuckle lightly.

  “And you do, too,” she says more seriously now. “I don’t know what I feel, but I know I’ve never had these feelings before. They’re new, but I’m also trying to overcome all the other crap. I don’t regret meeting you, Ty. You’re about to go on the road for the first time since you decided you were willing to admit you had stuff to work through and drinking wasn’t the solution. It’s going to be a huge adjustment for you. Do what you need to do so that you’re successful in that. I’ll be doing the same. I’ll be right here when you come back.”

  She leans in and hugs me, catching me by surprise. I return the hug, holding her to me for as long as she’ll let me. I inhale, memorizing her scent and the feel of her wrapped around me.

  Since I’ve known her, I’ve never been away from her for longer than this past month. It’s been hell. Not seeing Red for another four months is going to be difficult. She’s my rock. She’s my anti-drug. But deep down, I know she’s right. I’m going to keep working with Bill and getting used to tour life again. She’s gotta forgive her stepdad and herself. I can’t do that for her. As much as I’d like to.

  I run a finger across her cheek, lessening the hug a bit, and ask, “Is this okay?”

  She nods slowly.

  I lean my lips closer to her. “Is this?”

  I feel her shudder, but wait for an answer.

  “Yes,” she whispers.

  I lean closer, kissing her cheek softly, my lips lingering a few seconds longer than necessary.

  She finally relaxes.

  “I agree with you. We both have things we still need to sort out, but I’ll be back in a few months. You’re my yin.” I use her comparison from some time ago.

  She smirks even though her lips are tightly closed.

  “I’m scared,” she says, barely audible. “Scared I’ll never be able to do more than this.” She signals to our touching and looks downward.

  I think back to Cash’s words about fear. Altering them a bit, I say, “There’s no place for fear in your life. You’ll be okay once you find the release you need. I’ve seen you heal. You amaze me. My brave, brave girl.” I pull her in again for a hug. I want her to understand how far she’s already come. I also want her to know how proud I am of her.

  I
finally stand to leave, seeing how late it is.

  “I’ll be back,” I remind her.

  She smiles and nods. Then, she leans up on her toes and kisses my cheek. I sigh, giving her the freedom to do what she wants.

  “Bye, Ty.” She takes a couple of steps back and I open the door to leave.

  Hope. That’s what I leave with when I drive down the road. That, and a newfound appreciation for Cash Knight and his words of wisdom.

  I pick up the wrinkled paper with the words and walk into the spare bedroom. I read them over and over again. He’s a good writer.

  Although I miss seeing him each day, I’ve made a lot of progress between talking to Sam, going to pottery class, kickboxing, and working at Healing Hearts. For once, I feel like my life is on track. Me. Mikayla Anderson, living a life far away from hidden truths. Living a life without having to fear the night or look over my shoulder. No longer having to be the invisible girl blending into the background.

  Fear still creeps up and sometimes heat climbs my back and settles behind my neck when I’m alone in a room. But now, I take a few deeps breaths, close my eyes, and will my heart and mind to stop racing. I’m safe. For now.

  I shake that thought away. Not for now, for always. I am safe. No longer being afraid makes me safe because I can defend myself. I have a voice, and I’ll no longer be forced to shut it up or be too weak to speak up.

  I’m learning. At least I’m doing that.

  Instead of sleeping, I try to wonder what the beat of the songs sounds like on his guitar. I finally admitted to Sam the other night that I did understand my feelings about Tyler. I may have never felt them before or had anyone in my life I could trust, but I know what I have for Tyler is deep. It runs within me, with the blood I almost drained from my body. Now, I’m glad I hadn’t died.

  Yet, I am not fully healed. Overcoming this is more than putting a band-aid on an injury and letting your body heal it on its own. Though my fear is dissipating, my hatred for the man who took my innocence is still pretty strong. And the confession about reacting to the abuse is still taking a toll on me.