If You Come Back

by Alexis Leia

  Mostly, people backed off. The situation with women, though, was a bit different. He respected women, but didn’t give them any reason to believe he could give them something more than occasional sex. But, of course, there were always some who believed they could change him, make him a one-woman man. He didn’t know where those ideas came from, but he sure as hell knew how hard it was to get rid of such a woman. And the walking, talking proof was right next to him, rubbing her generous breasts against his arm, whispering hot promises in his ear.

  “We’re so great together, Chris. Don’t you see?” she moaned in her exaggerated southern accent as she placed loud kisses on his neck.

  Chris sighed in annoyance. Mona Walker was a Grammy-winning country singer who immediately attracted him with her blonde hair, slender legs, and D-cups. If he said he had hooked up with her because of her brains, he would be lying. Call him a womanizing bastard, you’d be right. But it wasn’t his fault that he took what women had to offer willingly. If she had been under his company’s management, he would never have slept with her, because that was one of the few rules he had when it came to women: never share his bed with one, never mess with taken ones, and never sleep with his clients.

  “Mona, I’ve told you already. We’re over”, he pointed out in a flat tone, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference. He ended the little arrangement they’d had a month ago, and she was still there, trying to get him to change his mind.

  “But, baby, how are you willing to give up on everything we had? On our huge potential?” she whined.

  Everything they had? Was she serious? All they had was a couple of fun nights in the sack and a few public appearances at music festivals. If that was enough for her to imagine a ring on her hand, then she was a seriously dense individual.

  “Oh, hi Mona. Still haven’t crawled up in a hole and died?” his best friend Jackson said as he plopped on the black leather couch between him and Mona.

  Jackson was someone Chris had never expected to become his best friend, simply because they were too much alike. He was a tattoo master, two years older than him, and a real artist with the needle. When Chris had just come to L.A., he used to sleep on the streets. One night, when he had bunked in the alley behind his tattoo shop, Jackson came out and saw him on the floor. He took him in, offered him to sleep in the back room of his shop, put food in his stomach, and helped him make his breakthrough in the music industry.

  Chris couldn’t thank him enough, and even thirteen years later, he didn’t know how to repay the debt. Jackson always assured him he owed nothing, and whenever Chris reminded him of the things Jackson had done for him, he would just shrug his shoulders and say that he got himself a real friend in return. He was one of the few people Chris wanted in his life.

  And the unwanted ones, well, they just kept on coming and going. Jackson’s dislike of Mona wasn’t caused by the fling Chris and she had, though; despite Chris not wanting to go permanent with Mona – a combination of her personality and his unwillingness to commit – he never allowed his friends to bash the women he was with, nor had he ever done it himself.

  No, Jacks’s resentment for Miss Walker had everything to do with a dispute between the two of them, which, oddly enough, Jackson never wanted to elaborate on.

  “You’re a jerk, Jackson”, Mona snapped, suddenly turning into a spiteful witch that she had the tendency to become, and stood up, pointing a finger at Chris.

  “This is not over, Christopher. I will not give up on us”, she said and stormed off, hoping Chris’s gaze would follow after her, to make him see what he was trying to leave. Any man would kill for her, dammit, and he acted like he didn’t care. At least that’s what Chris thought ran through Mona’s mind when she kept glancing back at him over her shoulder. When she saw he paid no attention to her, she left the party, looking furious.

  “Man, how the hell do you always end up with the crazies?” Jackson asked him, his eyes set on his best friend.

  The best thing about Jacks was that he wasn’t fazed with Chris’s fame, wasn’t amazed by Hollywood lights and the entire scene. Famous people and power meant nothing to him. Sure, he was influential himself; he was proclaimed as one of the best tattoo artists in the States, his clients were mostly famous, powerful people, and the waiting list for his shop was so long, people waited two years or more to get tattooed by him. But he wasn’t a stuck-up snob; smugness annoyed him, and celebrities bored him. Chris had to admit Jacks was the one to make him get his head out of his ass when he had made it in the industry, because Chris had been thinking he’d caught God by the beard back then.

  “Beats the hell out of me”, Chris replied as his eyes roamed over the crowded living room.

  People danced, talked, and made out in the dark corners of the room. Some smoked on his spacious terrace outside, and alcohol was consumed in large amounts. He only allowed alcohol though, because he strictly forbad drugs of any kind in his house. Those who wanted to get high in any way, knew they better look for another place to have fun, because if there was one thing he despised, it was opiates. Even alcohol wasn’t preferable, but it was difficult to avoid it in this lifestyle.

  “When you’re done with her, hand her over to me. Maybe I can get her in line. You know, put her in the Jacks tracks”, Jacks laughed.

  “Jacks tracks? Really?” Chris chuckled.

  “Hand over the remote”, Jacks demanded and switched the channel on his eighty-inch TV. In a split second it took for Chris to glance at the TV, his entire world shifted on its axis.

  “Stop!” he shouted when Jacks switched to the news channel, where a very familiar face stood on the podium, holding a press conference, looking like sheer power on two very slender legs.

  “What the hell”, Jacks frowned when Chris ripped out the remote from his hands and stared at the screen. Jackson couldn’t understand what the hell was happening and why the hell Chris stared at the news program like mesmerized.

  “Turn the music off!” Now, those were the words nobody ever thought they’d hear from Chris Ledford. The music got turned off and about fifty people stared at Chris, confused and worried he might’ve gone mad. He turned up the TV volume and ordered everybody out.

  “I said, leave!” he shouted and Jackson hurried everyone out, explaining that Chris wasn’t feeling well. People instantly left, falsely worried about Chris, when in fact they left because they didn’t want to catch whatever illness he potentially had. Hollywood was a vain universe, as simple as that.

  “What the hell, dude?” Jackson asked him as Chris kept rewinding the news all over again.

  “The state of Colorado just got one of its youngest mayors in history. Selene McClaran, a young up-and-coming politician, was elected as the mayor of Mountainview, which was recently proclaimed as one of the best small towns to live in the United States. McClaran, who has played a major role in the town’s reforms throughout the years, gave a very memorable speech during her campaign that many locals say was one of the best in the town’s history’’, the news anchor said before they played a tape of a stunning redhead with emerald green eyes standing at the podium and smiling at the crowd.

  “I don’t want you to look at me like one of the untouchable politicians we see and hear about every day. I want you to look at me like you used to for the past twenty-seven years of my life. As Selene, a girl next door who is now ready to represent you in the eyes of the state. You’ve been my friends since I was a child, and I was that little girl you took care of when there was nobody else to do that demanding task. We’ve done so much for this town, together. And if I win this election, it won’t be my victory. It will be ours”, the redhead said, and the shot turned back to the anchors.

  “The Mountainviewers use a charming nickname for their newest mayor; they call her The Mayor in Jeans, referring to Miss McClaran’s friendly attitude, her modest upbringing, and love for her hometown. The municipal elections of Mountainview were premature elections, with the former Mayor Wilson Barret resignin
g, citing his old age as the main reason, and strongly recommending his citizens to vote for his likely successor, Miss McClaran, whom he had personally politically schooled. The celebration of her election will be held next weekend, in the Mountainview Town Hall.”

  Dead silence. Chris turned off the TV and rubbed his face with his shaky hands. His heart was hammering inside his chest, and he immediately started thinking about Selene. Now that the dam broke, it felt like his brain pulled out every single memory with her back to the surface. He didn’t know how he managed to keep her in the back of his mind for so long. Holy hell, she grew up. Boy, did she ever. She was… stunning. Absolutely fucking stunning, and he was shook. Not that she wasn’t beautiful thirteen years ago, but they were both so young and very much teenagers, so he didn’t know how to appreciate her beauty the right way back then. Their youth, his anger, and her innocence couldn’t be mixed, so he left.

  It’d been thirteen long years since he last saw her beautiful face and now... Well, shit. She was the only person he’d ever trusted completely, the only one who had given him everything and asked nothing in return. The night he had to leave her was one of the hardest in his life, and he’d had more than enough hard nights in his life.

  He had to leave without her, though; she was too good and too young, while he was too broken and too angry. Her light didn’t deserve to be tainted by his darkness. That’s how he had justified his actions to his dramatic self back then. The truth was, he maybe could have done the goodbye part a bit differently and acted just a little less dramatic. Maybe given her a heads-up, prepared her for his departure. Who knows how she took it when he had finally left his hometown. But at that moment, in his dramatic seventeen-year-old mind, the abrupt goodbye was the only right way, just like ripping off a band-aid. He was sure she got over it quickly. God, she must have – just look at her! A fucking mayor. He couldn’t believe it.

  As perplexed as he was, he was insanely happy for Selene. She never mentioned her aspirations of becoming a politician. In fact, if he could remember correctly, she wanted to become a social worker, and help other foster kids in need. That was another thing that had showed Chris how different they were. While she wanted to become someone who was going to give back to the community, he wanted to run away from it as soon as possible. And while she might have had a hard childhood herself, there was good still left in her.

  He knew if he had stayed a little longer, he couldn’t have resisted her. He would’ve taken her for himself and would seriously fight whoever would dare to try and take her away from him. He had been extremely territorial when it came to her, even when they were only kids. He scared off any boy who tried to approach her and never felt bad about it. At the same time, he reveled in her attention, in her gaze of adoration and teenage love that he recognized, but couldn’t return simply because he didn’t know how.

  The point was, Selene was just a child and he was a hormonal teenager who barely kept his hands to himself when it came to her, and the fact that she was an early bloomer hadn’t helped at all at the time. Well, the way she looked on TV confirmed that she never stopped blooming. Their three-year age difference was nothing in their adulthood, but back then it had been a huge obstacle in every way that counted. Back then, she was a beautiful girl. Today, she was gorgeous; her unusual, wavy, red hair, emerald eyes and sultry lips would taunt every man. He bet people worshipped her, not only because of her sinful beauty, but because she was radiant, mysterious, and intrinsically good.

  “Chris, what’s going on?” Jackson asked him and put a hand on his shoulder. Chris let out a bitter laugh.

  “I guess it’s true what they say about the past. It always comes back to bite you in the ass.”

  “Are you talking about that hottie on TV?” Jacks asked, quickly connecting the dots.

  “That obvious?”

  “Umm, you did throw everyone out at the sight of her. So, the answer to that would be yes, it’s pretty damn obvious. But who is she?”

  “I don’t… Someone I knew long ago”, Chris said, suddenly feeling so damn tired. He looked around at the mess his guests made, in the back of his mind wondering if the cleaning service he’d been using for years would be willing to show up at 3 a.m. to scrub his house clean. But the majority of his brain replayed Selene’s interview over and over again. He just couldn’t believe it.

  When he came to L.A., he missed her terribly, but he fought the feeling hard and buried the memories of his old town and everyone in it, including her. It was the only way he was sure he was going to stay where he had always wanted to be. Despite hating his past and the geographic coordinates where it resided, he always knew there was a chance of becoming homesick. So, he forgot it all, buried it deep in the drawers of his memories, and threw away the key. Until now, when one glance upon the best person from his childhood brought it all up to the surface.

  “Wow, very precise. Who the hell would you…” Jackson started, but suddenly his eyes widened and he leaned towards his best friend. “Is that her?” he asked in a serious voice. Yes, Jackson knew who Selene was. He knew the basics, but not the details that Chris had kept to himself.

  “And what do you think?” Chris retorted sarcastically.

  “Holy fuck.”

  “My reaction exactly.”

  “So, what are you going to do?” Jackson asked as if the situation was an equation waiting to be solved.

  “What is there to do? It’s not like I can just call her and tell her I’ve seen her on TV and if she’d like to grab some coffee, for old times’ sake.”

  “And why the fuck not?” Jackson sounded genuinely confused.

  In Chris’s best friend’s mind, everything was simple – you want something, fight for it; you don’t want something, get rid of it. Although they were similar in that aspect, Jacks couldn’t really comprehend the shitstorm of Chris’s past, and it was probably for the better. But now that he mentioned it, Chris couldn’t shake off the idea of wanting to see Selene. Not just on TV, but really see her and… do what?

  He almost laughed to himself, for the first time in a long ass time not knowing what to do. It wasn’t exactly as if he could barge into his hometown, yelling I’m back!, and expect the girl he had left behind to throw herself in his arms, wanting to reminisce like old friends do.

  “It’s not that simple”, was the only answer he could give Jackson, who in turn rolled his eyes and sighed. “In all these years we’ve known each other, I’ve never seen you act like a pussy. Until now”, Jackson taunted, knowing exactly which route to take to make Chris react.

  “Why the hell does this make me a pussy?”

  “Do you want to see her or not?” again, it sounded like an equation.

  “I do”, Chris gritted his teeth, hating to admit it.

  He really fucking wanted to see Selene, to talk to her. It wasn’t even about reminiscing and reconnecting. It was just… an urgency in his veins telling him he had to make things right. Thirteen years was a long time, and if there was one thing he hated, it was apologizing. But one of the demons of his past reappeared – the regret of not ending things the way he should have, and the need to correct at least one aspect of his past burned strong.

  “So, when are we going to Colorado?” Jackson asked with a smile, correctly reading Chris’s mind.

  “I don’t remember inviting you.”

  “I don’t remember giving a fuck. Besides, I’ve never been with a mountain girl. Jacks is ready for some hunting”, he said and grinned, rubbing his hands together.

  Chris sighed in surrender. “Pack tomorrow, we’re leaving in the afternoon.”

  If there was one thing he never thought he’d do, it was returning home. Never say never was one of the proverbs he so generously preached to the people in his life, mostly aspiring musicians. He just never thought he’d have to use it on himself.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Ooh, do you want to wear my red dress? I haven’t worn it yet”, Annie asked Selene as they were gett
ing ready for her celebration.

  The whole thing still felt surreal. She was the mayor of her hometown. She actually won the elections, fully knowing what kind of responsibility it entailed. But now that it all became real, she could only stand dumbfounded in wonder and surprise. When the results came in, she almost fainted, and not only because of the amount of wine they’d had.

  Selene, Annie, and her other best friend Emmet were spending the night of the election in her house, in front of the TV, playing poker. It wasn’t much of a game, because there were only three players, but it was so much fun. Her opponent, Mike Waltz, decided to throw a huge party in front of the Town Hall, with tents and an amusement park for the kids of his supporters. While she had nothing against that, it still grated on her nerves knowing that he got the money from the public budget.

  She had protested against her own victory celebration too, simply because she didn’t find it necessary, but Mountainviewers insisted that she showed up in the Town Hall; they had something to celebrate, and they would do it with or without her permission. She wanted to pay for the entire thing, but the organizers firmly refused. And there she was, without a say in the matter and without a proper outfit.

  “Annie, a lot of guests will be over sixty. I don’t exactly want old John looking at my tits and thighs. Besides, I’m a fucking mayor, in case you haven’t noticed. It’s one thing wearing jeans, but a completely different one barely-there party dresses”, Selene said, holding a mass of red strips that Annie dared to call a dress.

  “Oh, alright. You probably wouldn’t fit in it anyway”, she said with an exasperated sigh.