by Hazel Parker
“How you feeling?” Brett asked as he hopped off.
“I think you know the answer to that,” I said.
He just smirked and arched an eyebrow, affirming my suspicions. I unbuckled the helmet just as his hands came to my face, and he pulled it off of me.
“Comfortable?” he asked.
“Comfortable enough.”
We headed inside then, our arms around each other. As we moved down the escalators to the main casino floor and then moved to the elevators that would take us to the bar at the very top of the building, I felt very much at ease with Brett. The bike ride had certainly gone a long way to helping, but I didn’t feel the need to apologize for what the reason was. If it were a bad reason, I’d realize it in the morning or whenever we left each other.
When we got to the very top, we went right to the railing and looked down at the Las Vegas Strip. Even from here, at the highest point in Las Vegas, the buildings looked like something out of Blade Runner, full of lights and towering over whatever activities went down on the streets. I felt like I was on top of the world, both literally and emotionally.
“You know,” I said, a thought coming out of my mouth before I could think otherwise. “If things were like this all the time, and we weren’t fighting or awkwardly stonewalling each other… we could give this another shot.”
Brett turned to me, a stunned expression on his face. I couldn’t tell, though, if it was happy stunned or worried stunned.
“What do you think?”
Brett took a step back and bit his lip.
Chapter 11: Barber
I guess I should have seen this question coming.
I should have known that from the way the date was going, she would suggest we go for round two.
But just because I should have seen it coming didn’t mean I did. When Cassie put the question out there, I recoiled. On the one hand, yes, that would have been delightful.
On the other hand, I was not high like Cassie. I was considering the horrible things that had happened between us. I knew I couldn’t just ignore how she had walked out on me. I was scared that if I said yes to her, she’d do it again.
If that happened, there was no telling how I would react.
“I…”
Fuck it.
“Cassie, as much as I’d like to, you abandoned me fifteen years ago without warning,” I said. “I need to know why. Now.”
Cassie’s expression faded as she turned to the railing, leaning on it, almost as if she were going to throw up over the edge. If we had been outside and not behind a glass window, I would have pulled her back. She took a few short breaths, but she never looked at me.
Was what had happened that traumatic? Was she that scared to look at me, to tell me what was going on?
“You’re going to hate me when I tell you,” she said in a whisper. “You’re going to leave me. And you should.”
“Cassie,” I said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I will not leave you. Something terrible had to happen to get you to leave. I’m not going to leave now as long as you explain yourself and let me understand it all.”
Cassie looked at me, and though she hadn’t changed her makeup or her clothing, her face somehow looked so much different than before. Gone was the chipper, happy girl with the eyes-squeezed smile; in her presence was a girl who looked battered and weighed down by her past. It wasn’t even an active sadness, either; it looked like someone who had just resigned themselves to carrying a burden for the rest of their lives, someone who could never envision releasing that burden or having help carrying it.
I vowed not to leave her side until she spoke. It took her a good dozen seconds for her just to breath.
“I miscarried, Brett.”
Her words were soft and quiet, but the weight of them was immeasurably heavy.
“I was pregnant. I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t want to scare you off.”
I never would have run off. It would have been scary, but it would have been the good kind of scary.
“I also didn’t want my father to notice. His drinking and his violent tendencies became more… became more drastic.”
She gulped. I put an arm around her back, but she gave no visible reaction. I pulled my arm back but remained closely by her side.
“The night before we went camping out back…” she said. Her voice was starting to waver, but she hadn’t started crying yet. “I discovered that I had miscarried. I already had names picked out for the child, Brett. But I couldn’t tell anyone. My mother would have told my father, and my father would have beaten me or maybe even killed me for having sex out of wedlock, forget having a child out of wedlock. I couldn’t tell my friends; the few friends I had…”
She just shook her head.
“I know I should have told you. I know you wouldn’t have told my parents or anyone else. But… I wanted to see what would happen, I guess. It’s terrible, I know.”
“It’s OK,” I said, but she didn’t look my way. She was in a trance of some sorts, telling the story.
“In addition to discovering the miscarriage,” she said, “my father had a really violent episode where he got drunk, slapped my mother, and fired a gun in the house. I had to wait for several minutes before my mother emerged to know that my father hadn’t killed her. But when I begged her to get help, she just said ‘it’s God’s will.’ I couldn’t live in that house any longer. I didn’t think I would survive if I did.”
She gave a long sigh.
“And so I ran,” she said. “Like I do with everything in life. I ran, and I ran, and I ran, and I fucking ran, Brett. I was so ashamed of what I had become and what I had turned into that I just left everything behind. At first, I was planning on contacting you. But then I felt enormous shame about what I had done. I felt I didn’t deserve you, Brett. You were one of the few people that truly loved me, not just with words but with actions. Look at me. I’m a coward who can’t conceive properly. I don’t deserve you.”
“Cassie…”
“When I saw you at the club… I was reminded of all of the weaknesses and all of the mistakes I made when we were young,” she said. “It reminded me how, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t escape my past. So I thought, hell, maybe things have changed. Maybe we can go out and be cheerful and love each other again. But love isn’t just about kisses and having sex and laughter. It’s about confessing the darkness, embracing the darkness of the other, and, I don’t know, not being afraid to say the horrible things. Things are great when they’re good, Brett. But telling this story… I knew I had to. But I know now I can’t be with you.”
I felt many emotions hearing that story, but the overwhelming one was a sincere feeling of sorrow for Cassie. No wonder she felt the way she did now; for her to lose a child and then feel compelled to leave her parents and her lover, all in the span of basically twenty-four hours, would have shattered almost any human being. If anything, it was a miracle that she was still here and still in a good mood.
“You’re still here, though,” she said after a few seconds.
“I am,” I said. “I always have been. I don’t say that to make you feel guilty. I would have liked to have known about the child, but I understand why you didn’t say anything. I… we were just kids then, Cassie. I don’t think any of us would have known how to handle that. I wish it hadn’t taken fifteen years to learn about it, but now that I know about it… you’re telling it now, right?”
Cassie nodded. She looked to be fighting tears as if she maybe felt not crying would make her look stronger.
“There’s no truth beyond that I don’t know about, right? No secret lovers from far away? No boyfriends under the table?”
“No way,” she said with a chuckle that almost turned into tears.
“So you clearly have the courage to face the darkness now and share it with me,” I whispered. This time, when I put my arm around her, she accepted it and leaned into me. “That darkness will always be there. But now that you’ve
shared it, I think it’ll be a little bit easier to handle.”
Cassie nodded. She didn’t move. She didn’t need to, though.
“There is one thing I’m curious about, though,” I said. “What did you do in the next few years? Or, really, for the next fifteen years?”
Cassie gave a light chuckle.
“Whatever it took to make it on my own,” she said. “I got an apartment in some small town about five hours south of Phoenix. I worked multiple jobs to pay rent and went to school. I withdrew from the world; I became singularly focused on getting into law school. I was going to work with at-risk teens as a lawyer and fight for protection for them. I didn’t make many friends—actually, any friends—as I struggled to get my GED. I went to Arizona State and, well, honestly, started stripping to help pay tuition, since heaven knows my parents weren’t doing anything about it.”
I had remembered her parents as God-fearing folks, though I had never pegged her father for an alcoholic. He enjoyed his drinks, but never to the extent that I thought he had a problem. But for him to have been like so…
It infuriated me. I never liked the man, given that he would have tried to murder me if he found out his daughter and I were hooking up, but now I hated him. Hated that he had pushed his only daughter out the door, pushed her far away from the confines of a loving home, pushed her to a life of running, searching, desperately trying to raise funds for her dream job without any help.
“And so, since then, my life has been one long pursuit of law school and paying off college debt,” she said. “I haven’t made any real friends since I left Phoenix, partially because of having my guard up, partially because I just move so much. I definitely haven’t dated anyone. Brett, you’re the only person whom I’ve ever loved. And I still can’t shake the fear that, hearing all of this, you’re going to walk out on me. It would be completely justified and fair, but it’s not something I hope I experience.”
“Don’t think that way,” I said, turning her body to me.
I got chills down my spine looking at Cassie. She was objectively and subjectively beautiful, and she was smart, funny, and sweet. But hearing her be so vulnerable, so honest, so open…
It made me feel for her even more. Like was the wrong word. Connected, maybe even loved? I felt a certain kinship with her now; it was like her telling this story had bonded us in a way that could not have been predicted.
I dared to say I even loved her more now.
“What you just did took courage that I will never match or know,” I said. “My courage requires me to fight people. Your courage requires you to fight yourself. You had to fight to tell that story, against your own judgment. That’s the kind of courage that few people have. It’s easy to throw a fist at someone else. Much fucking harder to fight your demons.”
Cassie gave a sweet smile that seemed even more precious given what she had just said.
“I can’t help but say this,” she said with a soft chuckle. “I’m just envisioning you punching yourself during an argument, and it’s funny.”
“Right?” I said, chuckling at the idea. I even mimed it in slow motion, drawing a much-needed laugh of relief from Cassie. “But seriously, Cassie. Do I wish I had known earlier? Of course. Do I wish I’d known where you headed? Yeah, because then it would have been fifteen hours, not fifteen years, before I saw you.”
I felt ourselves being drawn together closer. A kiss was going to happen, but to even say it was a kiss just felt incomplete. It wasn’t just the merging of lips; it felt like a merging of paths that had bounced off each other and taken so long to come back together. But like magnets, they were bound to come to each other eventually.
“But you’re here now. And there is no one I’d rather have before me. Cassie… I’m so sorry you went through what you did. But you don’t have to be alone.”
Cassie still managed to fight off the tears, but she fell into me hard, her body fully falling into mine. I held her close, rubbing her hair and caressing her cheek. When she finally did lean back and look up to me, she wasted no time closing her eyes and kissing me.
It was a kiss that I hoped lasted another fifteen years to make up for lost time. I may not have gone through what Cassie had, not even close, but I, too, had never met anyone I felt as close to as Cassie. I had never felt anything even remotely resembling this emotional and deep connection. Had I slept with other women? Yes. Had I loved other women? No.
It was clear which was one more precious, more cherished, more desired.
The kiss, obviously, didn’t last anywhere near fifteen years, but for how long it lasted, it more than did the job.
“Oh, Brett,” she said. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for running off.”
“It’s OK, Cassie, it’s OK,” I said.
She then pulled my body toward the elevator, and I looked at her askance.
“You don’t want to stay here?” I said.
She shook her head as the doors opened. Once everyone else cleared out, she waited until the doors closed before pushing me into the wall and kissing me again.
“I just want to be alone with you tonight, Brett,” she said. “I need you.”
Her words weren’t just cliché. I knew she meant them. I knew this because I needed her. After a conversation like that, I wasn’t going to apologize or feel weak for needing her. If the night ended in any way other than us falling asleep with each other, it wouldn’t have felt complete.
“We shouldn’t go to The Red Door,” I said. “The club’s a shitshow right now.”
“Oh, I know,” Cassie said with a slight laugh. “Mama always warns us to stay away from those parties. Oh, she also always says to stay away from you and Dom.”
“Well, Dom’s a whore, so that’s just smart,” I said, both of us boisterously laughing. “Did you tell her to make an exception for us?”
“Nope,” Cassie said. “And I’m not going to. I don’t need permission to have you.”
Her eyes narrowed. The deeper connection had been established. She felt safe with me, and I felt safe with her.
Which meant that it was time to do something more.
“Your place?” I said.
“Can I leave my car at the Fashion Mall?” she asked.
“There’s free parking everywhere,” I said.
“Then you better haul ass on your bike,” she said. “If you do it right, you might get the fun started on the ride home.”
Chapter 12: Cassie
That conversation could not have gone any better.
That didn’t mean that it went well. It was impossible to have that conversation go well, given everything that I had discussed.
But Brett hadn’t run away. I still had the man I loved in my life. Brett hadn’t judged me. I hadn’t broken down in a bubbly mess, the one rule I had for myself. I had to be strong when I told the story; not necessarily unapologetic, but I had to be firm in the truth and not act like a coward. I’d already done that enough with Brett.
And now that he was here, I had an uncontrolled desire to have him. I had to be with him, just as we were when the times were good. I had to do what I had failed to do that last night camping, when I’d broken down in tears and not told him anything.
I had to not just have sex with Brett; I had to not just make love with Brett; I had to be one with Brett.
I was coloring it right now pretty well with some naughty words, some dirty actions, and some flirtatious expressions, but that didn’t erase the deep-rooted need to be with Brett. As we got closer to his bike, it got to the point where I felt that emotional need start to recede into the background, but I had a feeling it was going to burst forward at a later time. Hopefully, when I’m alone, so Brett doesn’t have to see me looking ridiculous.
This time, I let Brett put the helmet on me, feeling his fingers brush over my chin, causing me to purr and murmur.
“Are your fingers that good in other places?” I asked.
“I guess you’ll find out.”
&nbs
p; Oh, what a tease. I know they are. You never disappoint me, Brett.
He gave me one short kiss before he hopped on the bike. I told him the address and gave him the general directions to get there, which, from our spot, mostly consisted of heading west on Sahara before turning right on Rancho Drive. There would be some blanks to fill near the end, but by that point, hopefully Brett wasn’t driving so fast that I would worry about falling off.
He revved the engine, turning on both the motorcycle and me, and we bounded out of the Stratosphere parking lot and back toward The Red Door. We passed it going down Sahara, and from the outside, I never would have known that the place was one giant orgy of dancers, strippers, porn stars, and bikers. I had to admit, curiosity would get me to go one night, if for no other reason than to see the rest of the club in action. Having the safety of Brett by my side would mean I’d get to laugh at some of the more absurd sights, like Dom flirting or Mama shaking her head at some of the things she saw.
But in the time it took to have that thought, Brett had already flown past The Red Door and approached Rancho Drive. He turned right, and we headed north. I had to have him take two more turns, a right and a left, before we reached my gated complex. Brett slowly rolled in after I put in the code—I had to beg him to come to a complete stop, something he seemed to enjoy torturing me with—and we went to the very back, where my studio awaited.
“Not bad,” Brett commented.
“For the pay you guys give, it seemed like a no-brainer,” I said, rubbing his shoulders as the bike ride came to a close. “I take it you don’t live here?”
“That would be some wild coincidence, wouldn’t it?” Brett said with a laugh. “Nah. I live in some apartments east of the Strip, on Flamingo.”