Redeemed Love

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Redeemed Love Page 18

by M. S. Brannon


  I could ask Matt to help me, but that means depending on him. My heart breaks whenever I think of Matt. I loved him when I thought he was my uncle, but since that day, my heart feels something else. I need to forgive him. God’s will is to forgive and I will, eventually. In the meantime, I will go on staying angry with him.

  I haven’t seen Matt in a very long time, though I ran into Tank when I was very, very pregnant, and I’m sure he knows I’ve had a child. He hasn’t tried to reach out or even bother me, however. I will be fine as long as he stays away from us.

  I finish dressing Hunter and escort him into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. Then we are out the door and ready to start our day.

  The sun has barely risen when we walk to the bus stop. My car broke down a couple of months ago, and I don’t have the money to fix it. Luckily, we’ve been blessed with decent weather, yet I don’t know what I will do when winter comes. I can’t stand at the bus stop in the freezing cold with my son. I’m trying to keep myself afloat, but it’s hard when you have a single income and a mounting pile of bills—daycare being one of the most expensive.

  I’m in the bracket where my annual income falls just over the maximum limit to get any kind of assistance, yet it’s barely enough to survive. I don’t understand it and the thought angers me. I work my butt off to provide for us, and all I’m doing is barely keeping our heads above water. I have to make choices every day, like do I pay the electricity bill or buy groceries, pay the mortgage or the daycare bill? It’s incredibly hard and there have been nights where I’ve cried myself to sleep.

  When the bus arrives and we quickly get on, Hunter sits by the window and watches the world go by. I wrap my arm around him and get the last bit of snuggle time in before I have to leave him for the day. It doesn’t take long before we are at the daycare. I walk in and rush Hunter to his room. The daycare is a little on the expensive side, but I know it’s clean and has great security.

  “Bye, buddy. Have a good day.” I kiss him on the cheek and pull him in for a hug.

  “Bye, Mama!” Hunter scurries off and begins playing with his friend.

  I glance over at the clock as I walk quickly out of the room. If I don’t hurry, I will miss the bus and be late for my shift.

  I work at the outpatient clinic in the hospital. I was very lucky to get the job because the hours are conducive with my son, but the pay is not that great. Working a nine to five job doesn’t pay near enough as a non-traditional shift. I don’t have anyone to watch Hunter, though; so I really don’t have an option. I’m stuck with the good hours and crappy pay.

  As I round the corner, I slam directly into another mom and fall on my behind. My bag and its contents spill out and scatter across the floor. My backside is jolted from my hard fall, but I quickly move, sweeping up my wandering items, shoving them back into my bag. When I look up, I see a beautiful woman standing over me.

  “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying any attention.” She extends her hand out and I grasp onto it, pulling myself off the floor. “Are you okay?”

  I straighten up my scrubs and look up. This woman is tall. She has her brown hair pulled in a bun and her blue-gray eyes suck me in. I feel like I know this woman, but I don’t recall ever meeting her. It’s an eerie feeling that I cannot ignore. She has a warm, welcoming smile and I don’t feel threatened. I’m not really sure what I feel. It’s just a very weird meeting, and I’m not really sure why.

  I collect my thoughts enough to respond to her. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m just in a hurry. I can’t miss my bus.” I wave her off and run from the building.

  When I make it to the corner, my bus is pulling away from the stop. Great! This is all I need. I’m already in jeopardy of losing my job because of Hunter’s many illnesses last winter. If I’m late, it might be the last straw. I cannot get fired. Then I will really be in trouble.

  I fall onto the bench, knowing if I walk I won’t make it any sooner. The hospital is ten blocks away. It’s days like this that make it hard not to hate Jeremy. I know it’s not his fault, but I need him. I need someone to be there for me when my life is in turmoil, yet I’m left here by myself.

  For the first time in several months, I start to openly cry. I can’t stop it. Normally, I will only cry in the privacy of my bedroom, but here, on this weathered bus stop bench, I break down. I bend over and sob into my palms. I am frustrated, stressed, and very lonely. I wish I could see his face and feel his touch. I want to look into his intense, brown eyes and fall head over heels again and again. My heart is broken and I miss him every day. It has been so hard to be without him in my life. There are days where it feels impossible to wake up, but then I think of my son and I go on for him. I have to keep going for him.

  I wipe my face and stand from the bench. There’s no point in sulking when I have to work on salvaging my job. I roll my shoulders back and clear my throat. Things like this happen; I have to make my boss see that.

  It will be a long walk to the hospital, but I start moving in that direction. The sun is blazing above me, making it hard to see two feet in front of me. I stop looking for my sunglasses in my bag when a red car pulls up alongside the curb. The door opens and it’s the tall woman from the daycare.

  “I feel really bad. Please let me give you a ride to work.”

  “No, that’s okay. Thank you though,” I respond, not really knowing how I feel about taking a ride from someone I don’t know. However, when my eyes connect with hers, that eerie feeling comes back and my gut is telling me it’s okay to trust her. But why? Maybe I should ride with her then I can figure out why I know this woman.

  I walk to her car and hold my hand up, looking at my watch. I won’t be late if I ride with her; I will actually be several minutes early. “On second thought, I will catch a ride. Thank you.”

  The woman smiles as I climb into the passenger seat. The leather is comfortable and reminds me of being in Jeremy’s car. It’s a classic muscle car, just like his, and the feeling of the seat against my body is comforting. Just like it was the night I officially met him. Everything about this woman and car is comforting. Why?

  “I’m Zoe.” She extends her hand and I shake it.

  “Cami,” I introduce.

  “I feel really bad about making you miss your bus. Again, I’m so sorry I ran you over. I was reading a text message and should have been watching where I was going.” Zoe pulls out into traffic as I fasten my seat belt over my body. “So where am I heading?”

  “The hospital. I work in the outpatient surgical center.” Zoe nods and heads off in the direction of my work.

  I want to know more about her. Zoe’s name doesn’t ring a bell with me and neither does her looks, but her presence is drawing me in—raising my curiosity. I hold my belongings tightly on my lap and look out the window. I want to ask her questions, but I’m not sure how nosey I can be without looking like a weirdo. I decide to make some kind of small talk.

  “So, where do you work, Zoe?”

  She releases a big yawn then smiles. “Sorry, that was rude. I’m a bartender and I usually have the late shifts. After I drop you off, I’ll be heading home to pass out.”

  She works at a bar. Okay, that doesn’t help. There’s about a million bars around here. I try a different approach. “Did you grow up around here?”

  Zoe looks over to me and lets out a big laugh. “Umm, no. I grew up in Wisconsin and traveled around for a while until I came here.” Zoe turns her car onto the street where the hospital is located. “Did you grow up around here?”

  “Not really. I was born and lived in California for a while then we moved to Butler. I’ve only lived in Sulfur Heights since I graduated high school.” I remember that night. It was my first week in Sulfur Heights and the night I looked into Jeremy Evans’s eyes and fell head over heels.

  We pull into the hospital parking lot and I point to where I need to walk in. Zoe yawns one more time while I extend my hand out to shake it. “Thanks again for the ride. I reall
y appreciate it.”

  “No problem. Hey, if I run into you again at the daycare, I can always give you a ride so you don’t have to take the bus. It’s not exactly the safest means of travel. Besides, I live like two blocks from here. It’s totally on my way.”

  I let out a big smile, and for some unknown reason, I nod my head in agreement. I was feeling really sorry for myself this morning, yet accepting this ride from Zoe proves good things are right around the corner. Maybe we will become friends. It’s been a long time since I had one, or even anyone I can talk to. Maybe we can get our kids together and go to the park or hang out.

  “Sure, that would be great. Thank you,” I say then close the door behind me. Today started out crappy, yet I can’t help thinking it wasn’t a chance meeting. I feel I was meant to meet Zoe and now I have to figure out why.

  I make it just in time to use the restroom and board my bus for Sulfur Heights. Before I left the halfway house, they provided me a packet of information regarding what will be expected of me while on parole, what I need to do while being paroled, and of course, the list of punishments for any violation of these rules. There also was information regarding my parole officer and their contact information. I was instructed to call them within twenty-four hours of my release to schedule my first meeting.

  I board the bus and get comfortable in the seat. It will be a three hour ride back home, all the while being the fastest trip of my life. I’m not sure where to go or where to even start, but I need to start making amends somehow.

  I close my eyes, drifting off rather quickly. My stomach full of delicious food and my encounter with the stripper has been enough to make me pass out from exhaustion. When I wake up, we are pulling into the bus station. This place is busy with lots of people scrambling to find where to go, reading the departure boards, or waiting to leave.

  I pull my small bag over my shoulder, exiting the building, again breathing in the fresh air of freedom. I stand on the concrete and look around at the only place I knew as home and the last place I want to be. Nothing much has changed so far. It still looks rundown and trashy. The odor coming from the factories plunges me back into the past immediately as the grit and dirt smells remind me of home.

  I must have looked like a tourist because it doesn’t take long for the vultures to swarm. Before I know it, I’m surrounded by three rough looking guys—all of them missing teeth while one is shaking uncontrollably, from withdraw no doubt. The largest guy stands as tall as me, but his pale skin is angry, red and covered in sores. Meth heads. This shouldn’t take too much effort to get them away from me. Then again, if I get caught fighting, I will be sent back to prison. I’ve been out less than a day and I’m not going back.

  While lost in thought, the big guy pulls a knife and the sound of the retracting blade snaps me back to the present. “Alley, now! Move,” he whispers yells while pushing the tip of the knife in my chest.

  We start to walk to the back alley behind the bus station. It’s filled with trash from the overflowing dumpster, reminding me vividly of the same alley I found Cami. The feelings of anger and longing overwhelm me. Papers and garbage blow across my feet as we round the corner to the darkest part of the alley.

  “Now, give us your money or I cut your heart out, asshole.”

  He pushes the knife deeper into my chest, not enough to penetrate, but enough to feel the sting. The second man moves to my back, trying to grab ahold of my arms. I roll my eyes then all the anger of my past starts settling in.

  It’s a classic Sulfur Heights move being held at knife point for money. I can clearly see nothing has changed. Before I was arrested, the new mayor was on a warpath, trying to clean up the south side streets, yet it’s apparent his efforts fell on deaf ears. Absolutely nothing has changed and it infuriates me.

  I let the beast inside me come alive as I take out all my frustration on the would be attackers. With one hand attached to my wrist, I swing around, connecting my fist to the side of his face, knocking him to the ground. He falls in a heap at my feet. When the man with the knife charges, I evade him by sidestepping to the left, but the tip of the knife grazes the top of my arm, causing it to instantly bleed. I pivot on my heel and swing my booted foot up into his gut. The man falls next to his friend on the ground, in agonizing pain. As I connect my eyes with the tweaker who’s scared shitless he will be next, I startle him by acting like I’m going to punch him in the face. The man runs down the alley, abandoning his friends still lying at my feet.

  I bend down, grab my bag, and pick up the knife dropped by the man. I toss the blade into the dumpster behind me then look down at my gray shirt. The sleeve is soaked in blood and the cut will probably need stitches. Lord knows what diseases live on the knife and are possibly infecting me. However, I don’t have time to think about that. I need to work on finding a place to live.

  I haven’t said a single word to any of my brothers in the last four years, and I wonder how they will take my sudden appearance.

  I had to refuse visits when Jake would make the three hour drive to Ionia, and all the letters were sent back. I couldn’t communicate with any of them. Matt forbade any communication with my family or Cami, and with having Victor as a cellmate, it had been assured I wouldn’t be talking to anyone.

  ***

  I finish cleaning up my cut as best as I can and wrap a torn piece of fabric around it. The day has gotten away from me and I need to find a place to stay before it gets dark. I really don’t want to go to the house I grew up in because I don’t know where Drake is currently staying, so I think of the next best place and start walking to the outskirts of town.

  My arm is aching in the exact same spot as my other knife wound except on the opposite arm. I start thinking about Cami and the night she put stitches in my arm.

  She was mortified putting a needle through me, but her distraction tactic is what I remember best. The first night we kissed. The first time I had sex with her. And the first time I realized how much she really means to me. I left her that night, knowing I didn’t want her to get involved more than she already had been in the drug life—I abandoned her. I still hold the guilt from that. If I was with her, Carter never would have attacked her. My vengeance on him was great, although Cami is only one person I was seeking retribution for.

  I weave my way in and out of the streets until I come to the outskirts of town and look up at my brother’s bar, The Slab. The building looks exactly the same with the parking lot partially full. I stand outside and take it all in. The steel structure is standing tall, the red letters of The Slab painted on the outside, and of course, the usual crowd hanging outside smoking.

  I feel like I’ve been transported back four years when I’d spend so much time at this place. It was my home away from home, not because of the bar itself, but because of the people who are inside. Darcie, Reggie, Big Mike and Gavin. I love them all and only hope I can mend some of the past pains.

  I walk slowly to the door and pull my license from my wallet, however the moment I pull open the door, Big Mike’s ugly mug is there to greet me. His face is covered in a lumberjack type of beard and the brown hair on his head has thinned. When he stares at me in utter disbelief, like I’m a walking ghost, and then smiles a big, goofy grin, I can’t help smiling in return. The next thing I know, I’m being pulled into a tight bear hug, getting my breath squeezed from my body. I wrap my arm around him and give a pat to his back. I’m not big on getting touched by random people, especially after prison, but I know Big Mike, he’s a part of our family, so I allow him to hug me. Besides, if all the welcomes are as warm as this one, I will feel better about coming home.

  “Holy shit, man; when did you get out?” Big Mike pulls me at arm’s length and takes me in.

  “I was released from prison last year and from the halfway house today.” I take a step back and look around the bar. I glance to the left and see Darcie, Gavin and some other girl mixing drinks. The crowd is pretty full and they have yet to notice me, which is ok
ay. I just want to get inside and talk to Reggie. “Is Reggie here?”

  Big Mike looks down and then back to me. I can tell he wants to share something with me but doesn’t know quite how to say it. “Yeah, I think he’s in the office. But, Jeremy, things are different. A lot has changed since you left.”

  I expel a deep breath and nod my head in understanding. Of course things have changed. I singlehandedly ruined my entire family’s life. Why would life go on as normal? “Yeah, I figured that. Look, I’m not here to fuck shit up; I just need to see my brother.”

  “He’s in his office, but I’d go through the back entrance.”

  I look over to the bar again. Sitting on the end stool is Drake. He’s looking at his phone, completely oblivious to the noise around him. I take a few moments to study him. He looks the same, though bigger. His shoulders look broader and arms more swollen. It’s quite apparent he’s not the same kid. However, neither am I. We’ve all changed.

  I look back to Big Mike and nod. Turning on my heels, I walk back outside and around to the rear entrance. I can see Reggie still has the same Camaro and Drake’s Chevelle is parked next to it. Looking at their cars makes me eager to get my Challenger and start getting a little piece of my life back.

  When I walk through the back door and hang a right, tapping on the door, I hear Reggie on the other side call out, “What?” His voice is gruff, perhaps stressed. He’s always had a deep, intense voice, though.

  I roll my shoulders back and allow my alter ego to consume me. I don’t know what to expect when I walk through that door, but I will be on the defensive. Reggie may open his arms and pull me in for a hug—the way Big Mike did—however he may drive his fist in my face. The feeling in my gut is telling me the latter is more of a possibility. I release a deep breath, the same way I used to do before I’d go on a job for Matt, and push the door open.

 

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