Angel: RBMC: Ankeny IA

by Kristine Allen

  “It will be okay, Angeline.” My grandmother got up and wrapped her arms around my mother. “It’s a gift,” she told her.

  “It’s a curse,” my mother whispered.

  After that visit, Jasmine and I spent weekends and holidays with my grandparents near Cedar Rapids. While Jasmine learned to garden, paint, and sew, I studied under my grandfather. I learned that healing was a gift from the Creator, passed down to the eldest male of each generation for as long as he’d known. It was a great responsibility but could be a burden.

  For example, if someone was hurt and there were witnesses, I could do nothing. Absolutely out of the question. If there were possible witnesses, I could only do enough to slow the damage until help arrived. In other words, not enough that people would know.

  Then there was the downside that it took a lot of energy to heal someone and the worse the damage, the more it sucked out of me.

  “As you get older and your body matures, you will be stronger, and healing will take less out of you. But still you must be careful, because too much damage will leave you exhausted and, depending on where you are, could leave your safety compromised until you recuperate. It should never be overlong, but you’ll definitely feel it,” my grandfather had insisted. I knew he was right because of how exhausted I was after that first time with my mother.

  But the most important thing I had to learn was something that would come back to haunt me.

  “What Lies Beneath”—Breaking Benjamin

  Jude, twenty-one years old

  “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust….” The rest of what the preacher said was white noise to me. The sobs from my father set my teeth on edge. I wanted to strangle him. Grab him by the throat and squeeze until he stopped fighting me. Then throw him down into the hole that he should’ve been in, not my mother.

  “Jude, will you be coming by the house?” My sister looked at me with tears running down her young face. The pleading I saw through the glisten of tears ripped at what heart I had left. My gaze flickered over to where my father sat in a chair surrounded by his and my mother’s friends. The people who never really knew them yet called her their friend.

  How could I say that? Because if they’d truly been her friends, they wouldn’t be trying to console the fucking bastard in the chair.

  “I don’t know,” I said, then realized I couldn’t lie to her. “Probably not, Jasmine.”

  She pulled her lips between her teeth and held her despair in. It damn near killed me, and I gathered her into my arms. Her fingers clutched the back of my dress blues as she choked on her sobs that she could no longer contain.

  Swallowing with difficulty, I fought the burning in my eyes. “You want me to give you a ride back to school when I head out?” I asked when I knew I had control again.

  She nodded into my chest, and I took a shuddering breath.

  The feeling of being watched hit me, and I glanced around. Through the dispersing crowd, I noticed a woman standing some distance away. She was all in black, and her shoulder-length dark hair curtained her face as the wind grabbed it.

  My eyes narrowed as the sun peeked from between the rumbling clouds. The hair that appeared dark became the deepest red, and my heart jumped as if I’d been hit with a defibrillator.

  “There’s no way…,” I whispered. Gently, I disentangled myself from my sister’s arms and set her aside with a promise to be right back, but the woman turned away. I rushed toward her retreating form, but I was stopped in my tracks as my father stepped in front of me.

  “Son,” he said with the scent of alcohol masked in mint heavy on his breath. “Can we talk?”

  “No. I have absolutely nothing to say to you,” I ground out through clenched teeth. “In fact, never speak to me again.” My lip twitched as I fought a snarl.

  He gripped my arm tightly, and his pleading tone evaporated like a lying mist. “It was an accident. Please, I need your help. I’m in some trouble.”

  “There’s no help for you. Get your hands off me or I don’t care who sees me, I will knock you on your fucking ass.” Angry, I shook him off and stepped around him to continue on my mission, but by then, she was nowhere to be seen. It had me wondering if I’d imagined her. Conjured her up from memories long buried.

  Either way, I shook it off.

  “Jasmine,” I barked, deciding she wasn’t riding home with our father after I’d smelled his breath. “Let’s go. I’ll give you a ride.”

  She followed me as I stormed to my rental car.

  “Jude!” my father shouted, but I ignored him and kept walking. The sheer gall of the man thinking I would do a motherfucking thing for him was sickening.

  Without speaking, we got in the car and left the cemetery. Across town, and into my childhood neighborhood, I drove silently. Finally, I stopped in front of the house that looked like a million dollars. At least from the street.

  No one knew the horrors that were caged within the walls. Secrets that would sicken the heartiest of souls and ravage the weak.

  “Go in and get your shit. Everything you want to keep. I need to make a phone call and then I’ll be in to help you.” Jasmine chewed on her cheek for a moment, uncertainty spilling from her in waves. Then she nodded and left the car.

  I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts. There weren’t many.

  “Speak to me,” his deep voice said.

  “I’m taking Jasmine out of the house completely. She’s eighteen, so he can’t say anything. I need a favor.”

  “Which is?”

  “I need you and your boys to watch out for her until I come home.” I gritted my teeth, knowing there would be a price. Especially considering I was already indebted to them. They’d been the reason my father never touched my sister. If only my mother had left before that fateful day. I’d never understood why she’d stayed.

  “And when you finish this enlistment, you’re coming home?” he asked. I hadn’t planned on it, but then again, I knew he wasn’t really asking. My eyes closed.

  “Yes.”

  “Bring Ogun with you. You know what we’ll expect. It’s where you belong.” His gravelly voice echoed through the line. “Both of you.”

  “Okay,” I agreed. Not that it would be hard to convince Ogun. He’d only joined to watch out for me. He hadn’t really had any desire to be a soldier, despite being a good one.

  It was I that had wanted to escape. I hadn’t ever intended to come back to Ankeny, Iowa after leaving for basic training. At least not for longer than it took to get my mother and sister away from there.

  I’d been saving, but it wasn’t easy. My mother tried to send me money, but I’d told her to keep it so she could leave. She didn’t have much despite our big home and fancy cars. My father had kept her on a minimal allowance and then gambled the rest away. No one knew they were on the verge of losing everything.

  I assumed that’s what my father wanted from me. Money.

  My grandparents had died within weeks of each other after I graduated from AIT. My grandfather had been so proud of me. I’d trained to be a medic because what better way to put my gift to use. Right?

  Except, too late I realized I never should’ve left.

  The call ended.

  While becoming a Royal Bastard wasn’t what I’d had planned for my life, upon being faced with the surety of my future, I couldn’t find any regret in my decision. Now that I’d committed, it seemed right. Like something in my life clicked into place, settling a restlessness within me.

  Jasmine would not be my father’s next victim. The Bastards would ensure her safety.

  With my elbow resting on the door and my fist over my mouth, I contemplated my life—the losses, the everyday events, the turmoil, the hate—all of it.

  The woman I’d seen at the funeral may have been a figment of my imagination. She also could’ve been a random stranger. Regardless, she’d brought to mind the one who forever held a piece of me—never allowing me to be whole or move on.

  Korri
e. My mind drifted to another time, and my chest ached.

  “I’m going to marry you one day,” I said as I held her head to my beating heart. Her naked body was snuggled up to my side and had me feeling like the king of the world.

  We’d gone further than we’d ever gone without going all the way. She rose up to rest her chin on her folded hands as she held my gaze. Her silky dark hair fell and tickled my chest.

  “You promise?” Her perfect lips twitched at the corner.

  “Cross my heart,” I replied with a smirk.

  Despite only being sixteen, I knew there would never be anyone who would hold my heart like she did. Some things you simply knew.

  “My mother won’t like that,” she said with a saucy grin.

  “I don’t give a flying fuck what your mother wants. She doesn’t own you” was my vehement reply.

  “Jude?” Her voice went soft and hesitant.

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you more than is wise.”

  “And I love you more than is safe.”

  She climbed up to straddle my body and pressed her lips to mine. Like I was consuming her, I took. My hands cradled her face as she poured her emotions into me.

  In that treehouse that we’d played in since we were seven and eight, she gave me the greatest gift I’d ever been given. That night, under a blanket of stars, I stole what shouldn’t have been mine, but I did it without remorse.

  She was my everything.

  Until three weeks later, when she disappeared without a word.

  I’d never found her, but I’d been young. I didn’t have a clue as to where I should start at the time, and it didn’t occur to me to seek the assistance of the Royal Bastards. Mostly because I’d been a little afraid of them. Besides, everything with them came with a price.

  Just like this time. My gift would be what they wanted.

  Sighing, I got out of the car and headed inside and up to my sister’s room. I refused to step foot in the den; in fact, I wouldn’t even look in the shadowed recesses as I’d passed. I hated the room that my mother had drawn her last breath in.

  Passing by the closed door of my old bedroom, I fought the shudder of revulsion that skated down my spine. Another den of torture.

  Jasmine’s door was open, and she was rapidly throwing things into a large suitcase. There were a duffle bag and a box on the floor with items spilling out.

  “Help me,” she said with worry in her gaze. “Before he comes home.”

  I scoffed. “He isn’t coming home. Not yet, anyway. The bars will be open now.”

  “Still,” she murmured. Conceding to her fear, I nodded and helped her gather up her belongings.

  Once she was satisfied we had everything she wanted, I helped her drag her things down the stairs and out to the car. There wasn’t much. She’d already brought most of her important things to her dorm room.

  “Do you want to stay in my hotel room tonight or do you want me to take you back to the dorms?” I asked as we loaded up her stuff.

  The sky flashed as I closed the trunk. Ominous thunder rolled. We got in the car as the first drops fell. It went from sprinkles to deluge in seconds.

  “Can you take me back to school? I don’t want to stay here.” I couldn’t blame her one bit. Though my father had never raised a hand to her, she’d heard and seen what he’d done to me and our mother. Thankfully, she had no idea what else I’d endured to keep her safe.

  The drive to Ames was quiet. The entire way, we held hands and stayed lost in our heads. The rain finally let up right as I drove onto campus. “I’m not going home again. Ever,” she murmured as she stared out the window.

  Slowly, her head swiveled my direction. The golden center of her eyes seemed to glitter as the chocolate brown darkened around the edges.

  “I understand,” I offered.

  “I know you do,” she said. “‘Thank you’ seems so inadequate.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked uneasily. But my confused frown eased when she leaned over and kissed my cheek.

  “Promise me you’ll be safe?” she asked with a sad smile.

  “I’ll do my best.” I couldn’t make that promise when I was set to deploy in less than a month.

  She nodded, understanding.

  I helped her bring her things to her room, where she hugged me and we parted ways. I’d wanted to take her out for supper, but she’d declined, saying she didn’t have an appetite. Not that I did; I’d just wanted to spend more time with her.

  When I got back to my hotel, it was getting late. I stripped out of my uniform and pulled on some jeans and a hoodie. After grabbing my wallet and keys, I slipped on my ratty Converses and walked across the rain-soaked street to the bar. Right before I stepped through the door, I had an uneasy feeling and glanced around. Nothing jumped out at me, so I went inside.

  Country music played from the jukebox in the corner of the dimly lit room. Two guys played pool, a table of women laughed and clinked their glasses together, old guy at the end of the bar, couple in a booth, dude chatting up a chick in the middle of the bar. I clocked all the patrons before I sat at the opposite end of the bar from the old guy.

  “What can I get you?” the bartender asked as he wiped down the surface in front of me.

  “Whiskey and Coke,” I replied as I rested my elbows on the bar. “Make it a double.” My hand ran absently over my shorn hair.

  I knew this was the last place I should be and drinking was the last thing I should be doing, everything considered. Except I didn’t care at that moment. For the next few hours, I simply wanted to forget.

  By the time I was on my second glass on an empty stomach, I was feeling warm. When a large man sat on the stool next to me, I smelled the leather, motor oil, and smoke immediately. I didn’t need to look his way to know who it was.

  “How did you find me?” I asked as I sipped my drink and stared ahead.

  A snort was his answer. “Really?”

  I sighed and shook my head. Then my gaze slid over to where Hawk was watching me, much like his namesake. “What do you want?”

  “Just wanted you to know that we’re here if you need us. It’s not a one-way street. We don’t want you with us just for what you can do. We want to be there for you as well. Not just watching out for your sister. That’s what we do.” He turned his barstool to face me. “If you want us to take care of him, we can,” he said quietly.

  I turned to face him too. “No. Leave him. Let him live in his own misery. If his time comes, it’s because the Creator has decided it. Unless he forces my hand, or yours, let him rot in his misery.”

  “I understand.” He changed the subject. “How is Ogun?”

  A half grin slipped out at the thought of my friend. “He’s a damn good soldier, you know. I think he wanted you to be proud that he followed in your footsteps.”

  Another snort. “Son, he couldn’t give two shits about the army. He joined for you—to keep you safe. While I’m damn proud of that boy, my pride has nothing to do with him joining the army or joining the Bastards when you both return. I’m proud of him because he’s grown up to be a good and strong young man. Worthy of so much more than my respect.”

  I nodded. He was right. Ogun was a good person despite what he believed about himself.

  “I’m going to leave you here to wallow, but don’t do too much of it. If you need us, you know how to reach us,” he said as he stood and placed a thick hand on my shoulder. At his touch, some of my anger eased, and I felt more relaxed than I had all day.

  “Thanks,” I gave a tight nod, and he walked off. The door opened and closed, but I had returned to my drink.

  “Is this seat taken?” The voice came straight from my past and sent a jolt through me. For a second I couldn’t breathe, thinking my mind was fucking with me again. When I finally decided I had to be mistaken, I glanced over because I needed to know. My chest caved as my heart took a hit.

  “Korrie?” I asked though there was no mistaking her. Her dark ha
ir that glinted fire, those forest-blended eyes that I’d lost myself in time and time again. Alabaster cheeks flushed from the outdoor chill. Beautiful—and impossibly standing in this small bar next to me.

  “Hey.” She bit her lip as she nervously twisted the charm on her necklace.

  “It was you today,” I accused.

  Momentarily, she hesitated. Then she sat next to me. The bartender asked her if she wanted anything. She rattled off her order, and he went off to make it.

  “You’re not old enough,” I muttered.

  She gave a humorless laugh. “Does it look like they care around here?”

  I shrugged. Taking a sip, I stared at the apparition next to me. She was more beautiful than she’d ever been, even though she’d cut her long hair.

  Shaking fingers tucked her shoulder-length hair behind her ear before she murmured, “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? For what? My mother dying before I could get her out of the hell she wouldn’t leave? Or is it for disappearing on me five years ago?” No matter how I tried, I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.

  The bartender dropped off her drink and left to deal with a group of guys who’d come in.

  “I didn’t want to, but I didn’t have a choice.”

  “You didn’t have a choice?” I asked incredulously.

  “I was fifteen, Jude! I didn’t have a choice,” she argued.

  “You could have at least told me!”

  “My parents literally woke me in the middle of the night. I didn’t want to go. My mother threw my clothes in a bag and dragged me out of there as she screamed at my father the entire time. I was half asleep, had no idea what was going on, and was confused. She didn’t let me take my phone.” She buried her face in her hands.

  “What, you forgot my phone number? My email? Social media? There was a plethora of ways you could’ve contacted me over the years, but you didn’t. Oh wait, or you could’ve responded to the thousands of messages I sent you through every avenue I could think of—before you blocked me.” Anger was swirling through me. It had started the second I’d heard my mother had had an “accident” and died. It had spiraled from there. Seeing Korrie again and dredging up all the hurt and abandonment she’d inflicted certainly didn’t help.