by Bellus, HJ
“Opal is all in,” Truckee continues talking. “She’s worried about the girl, saying she should really be in a therapeutic setting and possibly a hospital if she attempts again. I think it’s best that we work toward getting her out of here and into a place she can be kept safe from herself.”
I grunt, not moving my hat to make eye contact when I speak. “I agree. Getting her out of this house would cause a bigger scene than that house fire next door.”
“Opal also thinks Frankie did something to the neighbor from some of the shit she was rambling to her earlier.”
“Yeah, I’m certain she did, too.” I pause for a second, debating whether to talk about the moment we shared or not. But it really comes down to the fact every little thing needs to be open between all of us if we are going to get Frankie out of this situation alive and not behind bars. “I told her when she’s ready to write it down in her journal.”
“I’m going to make myself known in town the next couple days. Also, think it might be good for Frankie to get out, too, at some point to cut down on gossip. A quick trip to the store with Opal or some shit.”
“There’s too many nosey assholes here for that to work.”
“Opal has a story and would handle it just fine.”
“You really do think shit just works out every single time, don’t you?”
The loud screeching of a chair being pushed back sounds and then my hat is flicked off my face. “I don’t think. I fucking know. I protect what’s mine and that.”
He points to the house. “That’s mine.”
“Really?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Yeah, Opal is mine and now that girl is ours to protect so yeah, I know, brother.”
Chapter Fifteen
Frankie
I can’t remember the last time I ate a full meal like that or took a shower without hating myself and digging at my flesh. Opal offered me a pill after dinner, but I refused it. She explained it was a prescribed medication to help reduce the effects of anxiety and panic attacks and was very mild in nature.
I have a new reality, and that is there is a team behind me that won’t allow me to finish my plan. I don’t like it, but don’t hate it either. It pisses me off is what it does, as these three people in a matter of a day have put some normalcy back into my life.
I plop down on Grandma’s bed, wrapping her favorite blanket around my legs. My journal lies in my lap unopened. I don’t even have the courage to turn a single page, let alone write. My cell phone vibrates on the nightstand. It was dead as hell and I couldn’t even tell you when the last time it had been charged or when I looked at it. Not that my phone has ever blown up with notifications. I mostly used it for school work and reading books.
“Damn,” I whisper, reaching over for it when the vibrating doesn’t stop.
June: I’m so sorry
June: We had to leave
June: My mom’s brother died suddenly
June: We are going to be here for a few weeks to help.
June: Are you there?
June: You’re freaking me out.
June: Oh my god. Are you there? Just heard about the fire.
June: I know. (eye roll emoji) She’s so screwed up. Probably did it herself. It’s exhausting.
Her text doesn’t make sense at all. I reread it a couple of times.
Me: ???
June: Oh shit, sorry that was meant for someone else.
June: I meant to send it to my cousin about my batshit crazy aunt.
Me: Oh. I’m fine. A long story, but I’m actually fine and taken care of right now.
My phone begins ringing, startling me with the obnoxious ringtone June set for herself in my contacts list. I decline and then place my hand over my thumping heart to ease the race of it. My finger shakes and trembles as I type out a message.
Me: I’m good. I’m sorry about your mom’s brother. I’m seriously good.
I know that won’t suffice her hunger and yet I don’t want to tell her more, but I know I have to keep her off my ass. Dalton and his crew are suffocating enough as it is.
Me: Sheriff Cray appointed me a guardian and everything is just fine. I’m at home and resting. Love you.
Several more messages streamed through, just like I knew they would. I sent one or more texts reassuring my best friend, thinking about her contagious laugh. Almost immediately, Grandma’s scent strikes me right upside the head. Memories, so many memories, invade: all of our laughs, tears, and cherished moments the three of us shared. It takes me back to all the great moments of my life. Wetness rolls down my face and doesn’t stop. It keeps coming and I don’t push any of it back, remembering every happy moment and how loved I was. It’s the truth, one I never accepted as reality, and now it’s glaring me in the face—a stare I can’t shake. My skin begins to crawl and itch. I want nothing more than to carve away my outer shell.
I allowed everything that was evil to rule my world and that will always be my greatest regret. I lived in the moments of happiness with Grandma, but never cherished them. I just lived and nothing more.
That final thought is my undoing; my heart truly cracks open for the first time and everything held dear inside of it cascades out. Those experiences are things I’ll never have again and I wasted them in my own personal living hell. That’s when I let all the pain in. As my skin sears and sizzles, the tears fall faster and heavier.
I rock back and forth, feeling all the happiness and remorse as it tornadoes around me. I glance down at my arms, thirsty as hell to scratch and cause pain. I need to feel the tearing of my flesh to feel alive. My nails graze against them as I battle against the urge to dig into my flesh. I don’t want to but I also want to feel something more than all the regrets circling me.
“Frankie.”
I glance up to see Cray, who just opened the door and poked his head in. He doesn’t react; at least it doesn’t show on his face. I can appreciate that he's not rushing to my side to save me from myself. I don’t have it in me to acknowledge him as I continue to struggle through this battle. Battle of what? I have no damn idea.
The side of the bed dips next to me, yet he doesn’t say a word, allowing me to get everything out. My sobs heighten until my entire body racks forcefully. I find it difficult to get air to my lungs, which only causes me to panic. I’m out of control, and that’s one thing I’ve kept a tight rein on over the years.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers. “I know what happened to you, and I’m here for you in any way you need.”
I slap a hand to my chest, desperately gasping for air. I beat myself over and over again.
“Hey, hey.” He pauses. “I’m going to touch you.”
The next thing I know he’s grabbed my hand, halting me from beating my chest and has his other arm around my back. “I’ve got you. Endure everything you’re feeling right now. Live, Frankie. Live.”
I rock back and forth in his arms until I’m able to get air back in my lungs. I still gasp and ache for my body to calm. The soothing rocking motion Cray offers works magic as I come back from the hell I just endured. I really thought I knew what hell felt like before. I was so very wrong.
Cray tugs down the sleeves of my hoodie. His large hands that symbolize nothing but safety work something inside me, the one way I can find my calm. I reach out, lacing my fingers in his until we are palm to palm. I know nothing about this guy, but what I do feel is that he’s here for me. He’s not doing it for popularity or because he’s nosey. In one short day, I’ve seen that he and his brother are simply warriors of justice.
“Thank you,” I finally whisper.
This causes him to stop rocking.
“Thank you for keeping me here.” I take a long pull of air. “You are…you see me as me. I don’t know what I’m…”
“Hey, hey.” He begins rocking me again. “I’ve got you.”
I melt into his arms, knowing I’m safe and he’ll do anything to protect me. Cray told me as much at the dining room table when he i
nstructed me to write it down. I flinch in his arms, remembering the sound the knife made when it crashed into the pastor’s chest, colliding with bones.
“I…uh…” I try to speak but it comes out as nonsense.
“Frankie, you’re safe. Nobody will hurt you.” He pulls me closer to his chest. “You’re part of the Cray family now, and we protect ours.”
“He-he-he took me again.” My chin shudders as I manage to get each word out. “I refused to let him get his way this time.”
“Okay, okay.” He rocks me back and forth. My body curls up against him, our arms intertwining until I don’t know where I stop and he ends. “You’re safe. No one will ever hurt you again.”
He continues talking, repeating soothing words over and over. Words typically feel empty, but this time, there’s so much power behind them it scares me to the core. Cray isn’t bullshitting or doing this for show. He means every single word. I cry until there are no more tears. I let all of it go. I have no idea how long I let Cray hold me while I get some of the pain out. The one thing I do know is that I fall asleep and have no nightmares for the first time in a very long while.
Chapter Sixteen
Dalton Cray
My bed at Uncle Preach’s house is shit, but boy does my body fucking miss it. I held Frankie until she fell asleep and then couldn’t force myself to move away from her. Seeing her at peace as she slept comforted me more than I’d like to ever admit. Damn near fell asleep myself, right next to her, but eventually dragged my ass out to the couch where Truckee was watching some old John Wayne flick. I had plans to drive home, but my ass was out in a matter of seconds.
I don’t know what type of black magic Opal possesses, but her coffee is the best thing I’ve tasted in a long time. She either bought new stuff at the store, or hell, put magic in it. It makes sense the woman would have to be evil to put up with my brother. All I know is that I’m on my third cup. The morning sun warms my skin on the back patio of Frankie’s place. I need to get my ass down to the station today. Just waiting on Frankie to wake to make sure she’s still good with Opal and Truckee.
Who am I fooling? I know she is, and the fact Opal is professionally trained to work with troubled youth is answer enough to satisfy me. No, it’s more than all of that and it’s starting to scare the shit out of me.
The sound of Truckee grumbling in the distance and a shed door slamming gets my attention as I down more coffee. He’s holding a halter and opening the gate to Frankie’s horse pen. Ranching, riding, and working with horses will always be in this man’s blood. I do miss that life, but unlike me, Truckee could never move away. His heart will always belong on the Rock Bottom Ranch.
I watch as he enters an intricate dance with the horse who is still riled up over something. Truckee made a good point about yesterday. This animal knows something. He’s doing his best to protect his girl.
“What in the hell are you doing?” Frankie’s voice floats over the morning air followed by the slamming of the kitchen door.
I’m up and on my feet as she sprints past me. My heart pounds in my chest as I set down my coffee cup and take a step to follow Frankie to see what is going on now.
“Don’t.” A hand grabs my arm and I turn, coming face-to-face with Opal. “Let her go. She needs to fight for something and you know Truckee is always up for a good argument.”
“She’s not ready,” I argue.
“Sure looks like she is to me.” Opal points out to the pasture and settles in a patio chair. “I know you have lots on your plate, Dalton, but don’t smother her by caging her into your protection and safety. I know how you Cray men work. I’m going to guess you’ve never had a case like this one and been so connected to it.”
I nod, not knowing how to respond.
“She told me yesterday you’re the first person that hasn’t treated her as a weirdo like the rest of the town, and she was amazed how you didn’t blink an eye when you found everything out. Someone who is hurt like Frankie can find it really easy to find comfort in someone they trust and not get help. All the while the problem just snowballs and eventually everyone gets hurt.”
This time I’m truly speechless, blown away by what Frankie shared about me. I don’t have time to ponder it too long as the verbal battle ensues in the pasture.
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Frankie’s voice echoes around the pasture.
I turn to Opal. “I hear you, Opal. Understand what you’re saying. I know there’s a fine line. I also won’t let anyone hurt her.”
Opal nods, seeming to expect my answer. “Just don’t let yourself get hurt in the meantime, Dalton.”
“I won’t interfere this time, I promise.” I grab my coffee and head to the fence, propping a boot up on it to watch what’s about to go down.
Frankie has made her way to the middle of the field where Truckee stands with the rope of the halter tossed over the horse’s neck.
Truckee’s deep voice is easily heard. “Well, what in the hell does it look like I’m doing, darling?”
“That’s my horse!” Frankie yells, doing her best to rip the halter out of Truckee’s hand.
She has no fighting chance, but that doesn’t seem to stop her from pitting her tiny frame against my brother’s towering frame.
“How do you figure?” Truckee yanks the halter up out of her reach, all the while Frankie’s horse paws at the ground, not impressed with the mess these two are in.
“I own him. He’s mine.”
Frankie punches at Truckee’s back as he leads the horse down to the corner of the pen by a gate. Opal and I don’t have to move an inch to hear the shouting match, even though they’re further away from us, because their voices have escalated.
“Listen here, little girl.” Truckee whirls around to face Frankie. “This horse hasn’t been taken care of in several years. Yeah, he may have been fed and watered, but that’s it. And do you know how I can tell?”
This time Frankie remains silent with her hands propped on her hips.
“What, you became mute all of a sudden?” Truckee growls.
“That’s enough,” I hiss, pushing back off the fence.
“Don’t.” Opal grabs my arm. “Give her time and let Frankie figure this one out.”
“Bullshit, he’s being a dick. I mean, he’s always an ass, but there’s no need to be cruel like he is being now.”
“Cray.” Opal squeezes my arm. “The world we live in is far more cruel and brutal than your brother can ever be. Overprotecting her right now will only be an injustice. Truckee won’t hurt her and he may just push her in the right direction.”
She’s right. I know this, but that doesn’t mean I like it. Pisses me the hell off if I’m being honest, and the fact that it does enrages me. I’ve got to get my ass back to work and let Opal and Truckee handle this shit before my head is so messed up that I don’t know where I begin and end.
Truckee’s booming voice has me focusing back on the duo.
“Where’s that pissed off girl with a will to protect something that is hers? Uh, did you disappear that fast? All the fight you have?”
Again silence.
“Well, I can tell you how I know this horse has been abandoned for years. I’ve worked with horses my entire life and I can tell you that I’ve never seen a set of hooves as bad as his. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to fix them up. I have my tools in the back of my truck.”
Truckee continues to the gate while Frankie remains frozen in place. As soon as the gate swings open the horse rears, throwing one hell of a fit. Frankie doesn’t move as Truckee gets the horse settled and leads it up to his truck, parked next to a shed, and ties the horse off.
Truckee saunters back over to the fence, hitching a boot on it, resting his elbows on the top. Frankie remains on the inside, staring at my brother. Several beats of silence pass by with not a single word, the only noise the sound of Frankie’s horse neighing and pawing at the dirt.
“He’s protecting yo
u.” Truckee finally breaks the silence. “He won’t stop until you come back to him. He’ll wear down his body just to know you’re okay.”
Frankie nods then begins to walk out of the pen, closing the gate behind her. She’s out of my view, but I can still hear their conversation.
“I know he’s protecting me and I…uh…” She doesn’t finish her thought because Truckee does it for her.
“Think it’s time for you to take your horse back. It’ll be your first step.”
I know my brother remembers the same words Frankie wrote about her horse in her journal, and how she didn’t even spend time with her horse anymore, even though it was once her best friend.
“Y-Yes,” she stutters, all too clearly not sure of her answer.
“Good. Make yourself of some damn use then and get to brushing.”
Opal elbows me and hands me my coffee. “Your liquid gold is getting cold.”
“Thanks.” I jerk my chin toward Frankie. “That’s quite impressive, I must admit.”
“Sure is.” Opal crosses her arms over her chest. “I’ve been working with troubled youth for five years now, Cray. There’s never one perfect answer or solution. What I can tell you is that there is a shit ton of murky water.”
“Yeah, I’m seeing that shit right now.” Tipping back the mug of coffee, I finish it off.
“I don’t totally agree or support Frankie’s case not going through your department, but I can respect it. I’ve seen your brother do plenty of things that are, well, let’s just say on the wrong side of the law, but the reason behind it has always been for justice.”
I can’t help the laugh that escapes as Opal does her best to explain the ways of my brother. She doesn’t need to. I know exactly who he is and how he became that way.
“I don’t know how else to explain it.” She shrugs.
“You don’t need to. I get it.”