Lost Years

by MK Schiller

  “You think she can get hurt?” I asked Russ as we watched her mount the bull.

  “Nah, they have plenty of padding.” But he didn’t sound too sure. His knuckles, like mine, turned white, hanging onto the railing that partitioned the area.

  “You care about her.” He said the statement without any inflection. Neither of us took our eyes off her.

  “I love her.”

  In my peripheral, his eyes widened. “Wow, man. That’s way too soon.”

  I shrugged, watching her get on the saddle. “It’s what I feel. I don’t have to justify it.”

  I was wrong about that statement. I had to justify it to her.

  “Have you told her?”

  “Not in those exact words.” I thought I had communicated I loved her many times with different words, and all of my actions, but in the end, there was no real replacement for the actual words. Foolishly, I didn’t account for the fact people needed logic. Love and logic rarely existed in the same plane.

  “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you,” Russ said.

  “If I hurt her, I’ll kill myself.”

  She lasted longer than both of us. Hell, she even waved her pink cowboy hat in the air with cocky exuberance. We whistled and cheered her on, watching the stubborn girl we admired. Then she fell, and we both stumbled over each other, breaking through the swing gate to get to her. We each took her arm, easing her up and inspecting her for injuries.

  “I’m fine, guys. Jesus, y’all look like you’re about ready to have a heart attack. Do you think just because I don’t have a dick, I can’t ride a saddle?”

  Russell and I both turned to each other. We broke out into rambunctious laughter.

  I swooped her up in my arms, spun her around, and kissed her dimple. “Texas, you can do anything you want.”

  The DJ announced karaoke, and Russ signed Scarlett up. She pretended to be mad, but her smile gave her away. She insisted Russ join her.

  He looked at the screen, but she knew all the words. She blew me a kiss before she belted out the lyrics of “I’m Glad You Came,” by The Wanted. She sang with him, but she sung to me…for me. Her voice came out with a sweet twang that signaled the unmistakable cadence of country. Yeah, she was my country girl.

  I whispered my praise to her when she returned. It was from the heart and meant for her ears only. “I always thought the term soulful was about how singer’s voice sounded, but now I know it’s not. When you sing, my soul feels full.”

  She buried her head in my chest, her fingers reaching for her hair. I reached for and kissed her hand before she could start a braid. “Thank you for this. I know it’s not your thing.”

  “You’re my thing, Sunshine.”

  “I requested a song. The DJ is looking for it now.”

  “He doesn’t have it?”

  “It’s older. I wanted us to slow dance to it. It’s on the jukebox at the diner. I’ve always loved it. It reminds me of you. Of us.”

  “When is he going to play it?”

  “In half an hour, give or take.”

  “I’ll be right back.” I smiled at Russ, who was chatting up a cute blonde, on my way to the restroom.

  I used the restroom. As I washed my hands, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Physically, I was the same man who’d arrived here just a few days before, yet I saw no resemblance. If Anna could see me now, she wouldn’t worry. Gone was the cocky, fucked-up kid who never belonged. I’d found my home. I’d found my own personal serenity.

  I dialed Anna’s number. I’d talked to her when I arrived, but I’d had a missed call from her and a couple of emoticon-fueled messages.

  She picked up on the first ring.

  “Flynn.”

  “Anna Banana, how are you?”

  “Great but tell me about you.”

  Where would I even start?

  “Island’s awesome. Aunt Rose is cool. I’m working at her diner.” I omitted anything about Scarlett. Anna would meet her soon enough.

  “That’s great and ah…”

  “I’m keeping my promise to you. I haven’t had a single drink.”

  She shrieked or squealed or did something weird into the phone that made me almost drop it into the sink. “That’s the best news! And you’re actually doing okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You sound different…happier.”

  “That’s cause I am. Is Keith treating you right?”

  She laughed. “Better than I deserve.”

  “That’s not true, sis. You deserve the best.”

  “Don’t worry, he is the best. The best for me anyway.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “I miss you. We all do.”

  “Keith misses me?”

  “Well, sure. But I’m talking about Dad.”

  “Liar.”

  “Swear it.” Her voice dropped to that “you better listen up” tone she often used with me. “He’s been really upset about the way you left things. I don’t know exactly what’s going on.”

  “Colleen made a pass at me a few weeks after I got home from the hospital. He didn’t believe me.”

  There was silence for a minute.

  “Oh Jason, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

  It was the second time my stepmother had made a pass. The first was when I was sixteen. I’d blocked her then too, but I didn’t have the courage to tell me dad. This time I did though and his reaction was to disown me.

  “I’m fine with it.” I was. Maybe everything falling to shit in my life had given me the nudge I needed to start the journey to Serenity.

  “He asked Colleen to move out.”

  “Don’t joke.”

  “I’m serious. He’s really trying. He invited Keith and me for dinner the other night. He made spaghetti.”

  I almost dropped the phone again. “Dad can cook?”

  “He used to cook a lot, but he hasn’t in a while.”

  “All this time, I just needed to disappear for him to straighten up.”

  “That’s not true. I think he’s changed because you left, and he realizes how crappy he’s been.”

  “Good for him, but it’s too late. You should save the drama for the theater.”

  She sighed. “Look, I’m not saying you should forgive him, but at least talk to him. He wanted to call you, but I suggested that I run it by you first.”

  I waited for the familiar anger to rise in my chest as it usually did when I thought about my father. I felt a void, but not much else. Still, I wasn’t ready to think about what I’d left behind just yet. I was looking to the future. A beautiful future with laughter and music and a girl who brought me to my knees. “I’m not ready yet.”

  “Okay, but keep an open mind. The damage can be repaired, right?”

  “Maybe. I’ll try. I gotta go. Tell Keith to keep treating you right or he’ll have to answer to me. I love you.”

  “You too, bro.”

  Scarlett wasn’t at our table when I came out. She wasn’t at the bar or on the dance floor. The DJ didn’t have to announce Scarlett’s song. I’d never heard it, but the lyrics of Badfinger’s “Day After Day” made it quite clear this was the song she’d picked. My heartbeat suddenly increased. Where was she?

  “Have you seen Scarlett?” I asked Russ.

  “She’s at the table.”

  “No, she’s not.”

  He looked around for her, too.

  “I’m going to check the dance floor.”

  “I’ll check the bar,” he said.

  She wasn’t on the dance floor or by the mechanical bull or in the few dark alcoves of the club. Panic set in. I walked to the parking lot and circled once, but she wasn’t there, either.

  Then I heard her voice, quiet but strong, coming from the side of the building.

  “I have nothing to say to you. You have to leave me alone.”

  Then his voice followed. “Scar, I’m hurting in a bad way, and I need you right now.”

  Fuck no.

&n
bsp; I found him, leaning over her much the same way as the first night. She had her arms crossed, looking away from him.

  I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him away from her before he even saw me coming.

  “What part of ‘leave’ do you not understand?”

  Vance looked as if he’d aged years in a few days. His face was gruff, his hair greasy, and his clothes unkempt. “This is none of your business. This is between me and my girl.”

  I pushed him against the wall. “She’s not yours.”

  He looked at her. “Is this why, Scar? Are you choosing him over me? You said you’d help me. You said you’d be there when I needed you, but some guy shows up and you toss me away like yesterday’s trash?”

  “Vance, you’re the reason why we broke up, and it was six months ago. Jason has nothing to do with it.”

  “Whatever spell you have her under I’m gonna break right now by kicking your ass.” He slurred the words. His silly threat made me smile. I’d been having other dreams lately. Not the kind where you’re asleep, but the ones that kept you up at night. They involved vengeance and Vance.

  I laughed, spurred by the adrenaline that rushed through me. I leaned against the wall. “Try it.”

  He looked surprised, but he swung anyway. As I expected, his aim was way off. It would have hit me in the forehead, but I ducked. I gave him three shots, avoiding his fist each time. The true art in fighting someone was not the shots you took but the ones you avoided.

  I stood there, arms crossed, giving him a false sense of security. He was as weak an opponent as he was a man. His third shot hit the brick wall, and he shook out his hand. Vance had not mastered the art of drunken boxing. Something I had vast experience in. Thank God I wasn’t drunk, though, because I’d murder him. I might have anyway.

  “Stop,” Scarlett screamed, but we both ignored her.

  I slammed his head against the brick. “Are you done now?” I asked through clenched teeth. “Because I need your full attention.” I slammed his head again. “You will never talk to her again, do you understand?” He looked confused, so his head met the brick once more. Not hard, but the thunk was audible. “The next time you try to swing at me, you better not miss. The next time you even think of laying a finger on her, you’d better kill me.” I pushed him back, letting the brick work as my second set of fists against his skull. “Answer me.”

  “Cut it out, Jason!” she said, pulling my arm, but I shook her off. I registered she’d said it a few times already, but all my senses, including my hearing, were hyper-focused on him.

  “That’s not good enough. He has to answer me. Answer me!” I said, banging his head again.

  “It’s good enough. It’s good enough for me. Let him go,” her voice pleaded.

  He slumped to the floor as soon as I let go. She rushed past me, falling to her knees beside him.

  “Can you hear me, Vance?” she asked him.

  He blinked a few times, trying to focus on her. “Don’t leave me,” he said.

  “We need to get you to a hospital.”

  I punched my own fist into the wall. “Are you fucking crazy, Scarlett?”

  “Don’t leave me,” he said again.

  She ignored me and continued to talk to him. “I’m sorry, Vance. You have to do this on your own.”

  “I’m hurting really bad.”

  “Fuck, what the hell is going on?” Russell asked, suddenly appearing behind me. He looked down at Vance and back at me. “Damn, you really can fight, New Guy.”

  “I think he might have a concussion. His head is bleeding.” She looked up at Russell. “Quick, give me your shirt.”

  “For what?”

  “So I can stop the bleeding.”

  Russell shook his head. “That fucker is not getting my good shirt.”

  She looked at me, but I was incapable of speech. The way she was taking care of him sickened me. The look of disappointment she gave me made it worse. My mouth gaped in shock when she started unbuttoning her own shirt.

  “Stop,” I said, taking off mine and throwing it to her.

  She wrapped it against his wound. “Don’t just stand there. Call an ambulance. We have to get him to a hospital.” Despite her plea, we both just stood there. I tried to pull her off him, but she fought against me. “Why won’t you help him? Why?” she asked with a touch of hysteria.

  “Because he’s not worth saving,” I said.

  “He is. He is to me, Flynn,” she said, standing on her knees and punching her fists into my waist. I clasped her wrists and fell to my knees on the other side of Vance’s slumped body.

  “Look at me. What is wrong with you?” I asked her. “You want me to help this poor excuse for a man?”

  Tears trailed down her face, and her small body shook with anger. “What is wrong with you?” she spat. “Are you unable to show mercy? He might die.”

  “Let him.”

  I’d never forget the look of disappointment on her face.

  Russell crouched next to her, rubbing her shoulder. “Scarlett, he’s going to be fine. I’ll take care of this. You go back to the island with Flynn.”

  “You don’t know that. He’s got head trauma. I should stay with him.”

  Russell turned her face to his. “Listen to me. I swear on Tommy that I will call an ambulance, but you have to go because with an ambulance comes the cops.” He gestured to Vance’s bloody face and then to my bloody fists. “No one’s going to accept self-defense. But don’t worry, I’ll stay with Vance.

  “I’ll ask him not to press charges against Flynn. And I’ll try to get him help. Will you let me do that for you, Miss. Scarlett?” He said “Miss Scarlett” not in a sarcastic way, but like a nickname. They stared at each other for an eternity. I had a feeling Russell was communicating much more with that expression than his actual words. She finally nodded.

  Her gaze fell to Vance, who was still conscious. “Vance, you’re going to be all right.”

  “I need you, Scarlett.”

  “I can’t help you anymore. I never could.” Then she kissed his forehead. A tender kiss, but it had no passion. It wasn’t the kiss you gave to someone you loved. It was more like a mother’s kiss to a sick child, not that I had great insights.

  “Thank you, Russ,” she said, standing up.

  “You got another shirt, man?” Russ asked me. “Because even in Texas, you’ll get some funny looks driving shirtless.”

  “Yeah, I have one in my car.”

  Russell helped Vance stand and shouldered him. I stormed to my car.

  “Jason,” she called, running behind me.

  I opened the passenger door, gripping the handle so tightly I could have ripped it off.

  “Get in.”

  “Wait, we should—”

  “Get in the car.” My voice, cold and distant, was unrecognizable even to me.

  Chapter Twenty

  She sat, staring up at me with those big blue eyes. “Put on your seat belt.” I wasn’t able to internalize what had transpired. I just wanted to get her away from this place. Feelings of confusion, jealousy, anger, disappointment, and even guilt swirled around my head. I went to the trunk to retrieve a T-shirt. There was a duffle bag I’d never brought into Rose’s house, and it had a few shirts in there.

  I slammed the trunk down and saw her through the rear windshield. Her fingers worked with a newfound frenzy, twisting three strands of her dark red hair into one over and over.

  “What the fuck was that, Scarlett? Are you still hung up on him?” I asked, getting in the car.

  “Are you really asking me that?” she yelled.

  “Yeah, I sure as hell am.”

  “How could you even think that after…after us?”

  “What else am I supposed to think when you offer that douche bag the fucking shirt off your back?”

  “I’m sorry if I didn’t have the whole ‘oh, you hurt some guy on my behalf, you’re my hero’ reaction you’re looking for, but that’s not who I am
.”

  “Maybe I’m wrong about who you are in general,” I said.

  “Maybe.”

  I felt like a dick, especially when she started crying. I pulled over to the side of the road and went to put my arm around her. “Don’t,” she warned. “Don’t touch me, please.”

  I moved my hand away. “Scarlett…”

  “Just keep driving. I can’t have a conversation with you right now.”

  I pulled into the ferry. She stared out her window. I stepped out of the car, wanting some fresh air. It was dark, but between the ferry lights and the bright stars, the island came into focus.

  A small hand clasped the railing right next to mine. “Can we talk?”

  “I’m still trying to process what happened.”

  Her pinky clasped over mine. “Let’s process it together. Let me explain myself. Then you explain yourself. Okay?”

  I turned to her. Her many braids blew against the breeze and her face shown bright against the moonlight. “Why did you do it?”

  “Why did I want to help him? He was hurt. I wanted to help him like I’d help any human being, not because he was my ex.”

  My grip tightened around the banister. “That’s not what I meant. Why did you go outside with him? You put yourself in danger.”

  “I didn’t. I wanted some air. His friend works at that bar. He probably called Vance, but I never in a million years expected him to be waiting for me.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you scream your head off?”

  “He’s really messed up right now. I thought I could talk some sense into him.”

  “Great job.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ll take my methods over yours.”

  “Are you expecting an apology? Cause that’s not happening. The only thing I’m sorry about is that you stopped me.”

  “I get why you did it. You wanted to protect me and send a message to him.” She drummed her fingers on the banister. Against the wind and crashing waves, it made a sad melody. “I love how you want to protect me. But as fucked up as I am, I am not helpless.”

  “You think I don’t know that? You’re strong and innocent at the same time. You don’t give him enough credit.” I fisted my hands through my hair. “What the fuck would have happened if he hurt you? What then?” As I asked her the questions, every bone in my body tensed at the possible outcome.