by S. M. Shade
“Absolutely. I swear, I don’t know how a three year old can have more stamina than me, but he wears me out.”
Sunny and I spend the next few hours laughing and chatting. Brody pronounces me his new best friend for bringing him cookies. As I’m getting ready to go, Sunny asks, “Are you still seeing that hunk of muscle that lives next door to you?”
“Yeah, he’s picking me up in a bit to go sledding.”
“I don’t suppose he has a brother?”
“You aren’t the first person to ask me that,” I laugh. “But, he only has a younger sister.”
We make plans to get together again, and I head home to pile on the clothes before Dare shows up.
When he knocks on my door just after dark, he’s not alone. Justus walks in behind him, a wide smile on his face. “You ready, babe?” Dare asks.
“As I’ll ever be,” I laugh. “Do I want to know why it’s called Suicide Hill?”
“Relax, no one has ever actually died.”
“My buddy broke his collarbone last year,” Justus says, as if it’s some kind of accomplishment. “If you hit this one spot just right, you catch a lot of air.”
“Good to know.”
Dare grabs my hat while I’m slipping on my gloves and pulls it down over my ears, dropping a quick kiss on my lips. “I won’t let you get hurt.”
Justus tilts his head to the side and bats his eyelashes. “Aww, Dare is so sweet.”
Dare glares at him, but when I laugh, his lips curl. “That’s one,” he growls.
“One what?” Justus laughs.
“You’ll see.”
After Dare unlocks his car, Justus hops in the front seat and pats his leg, as if I should ride on his lap. “Plenty of room,” he says, winking at me.
Dare shoves him out the door and onto the snow covered ground, warning, “That’s two.”
Laughing, I step over him and slide into the passenger seat. Justus jumps up and brushes himself off before climbing into the back.
“Jeremy said he might show up, and Landon and Zoe are meeting us there,” Dare tells me when we’re finally on our way. The streets are still treacherous so there aren’t many cars on the road. He steers us down a narrow back road and parks beside a tall fence.
His hand grabs mine and I’m lead to a spot where the fence has been cut and peeled back. “Are we trespassing?” I ask with a laugh.
“Along with about a hundred other people,” he replies, chucking the inner tubes over the top of the fence.
He’s not far off. There are two massive hills across from each other and people are crowded at the top of them. “Hey!” a voice shouts when we reach the top of the hill, and I see Jeremy, Landon, Zoe, and an unfamiliar redheaded woman smiling at us. Zoe waves, gesturing for us to join them.
“I was hoping you’d come!” Zoe exclaims. “This is my friend, Frannie.”
Frannie and I exchange greetings, but I’m a little distracted by the guy standing beside Jeremy. He’s looking at me like he knows me, but—holy shit. “Tucker!”
I barely recognize him. To be fair, he was usually dressed in shredded clothes with a scruffy beard and long hair when he lived in the parking lot. Now, he’s clean shaven, his hair trimmed, and he’s wearing dark jeans and a sweater. “Ayda.” He nods, a self-conscious smile on his face. “How have you been?”
“Good. You look great! How are you?”
Dare’s arm slips around my shoulders, and Tucker smirks at him. “I’m fine, although I miss your cooking.” He twists his hand, pointing his thumb at Dare. “This asshole treating you right?”
Dare scoffs, and pulls me closer. “He’s one of the good ones,” I assure him. “Come by for dinner, sometime.”
“I sure will.”
“Let’s do this!” Justus shouts, flopping into a tube. “Who’s riding on my lap? Zoe? Ayda?” He turns to Frannie. “How about you? I love redheads.”
Jeremy seat drops onto Justus’s lap. Hard. And Landon shoves the tube with his foot, sending them down the hill while everyone laughs.
“Jeremy is secretly in love with Frannie,” Zoe tells me.
“Don’t start that shit again,” Frannie moans. “Fucking ain’t love. We know the difference.” She settles into another tube and pushes herself over the edge of the drop.
Zoe grins and shrugs when I look at her. “They have a love/hate, on again off again thing.”
Dare scoops me up from behind and sits down on the tube, settling me in his lap. “Ready, darlin’?”
He spins the tube around and shoves off, so we’re flying down the hill backwards. Icy wind finds every crevice of my clothing, but it’s totally worth it. Dare’s warm arms are around me as we fly down the hill, the quick drop tickling my stomach and making me laugh. The rest of the group is right behind us.
“Let’s do it again!” I cry, jumping to my feet, and Dare laughs. He slips his arms around my waist and pulls me against him, grinning down at me.
“You’re fucking adorable, you know that?”
My cheeks heat despite the bitter wind and I look away.
His soft glove lands on my cheek, making me look at him. He brings his lips to mine for a soft kiss. “Adorable,” he repeats.
For the first time since the attack, I believe it. I don’t know what it is, why this man can make me feel like there’s nothing wrong with me when no one else could. When he looks at me, I don’t worry that he’s thinking about the scars, or disgusted by them. The way he gazes at me like he’s a wolf and I’m his prey doesn’t hurt. And, God, the way his eyes darken when I’m laid out naked before him…”
“Keep looking at me like that, babe, and I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”
Shit. I’m just standing here drooling over him. With a chuckle, he smacks my ass, then grabs my hand and heads back up the hill. “I’ve created a sex fiend.”
“Pshh, I was a sex fiend way before you. I just haven’t had a chance to act it out.”
“I did used to hear your vibrator a lot.”
“Shut up!” I smack his chest and he laughs.
“Hang on,” he says, dropping my hand and kneeling to scoop up a huge handful of snow. After packing it into a snowball, he turns and chucks it right into Justus’s face, who’s coming up the hill behind us.
Spluttering, Justus wipes his face. “What the hell?”
“That’s one,” Dare says. “Next one is coming when you least expect it.”
We spend the next couple of hours at Suicide Hill, and I have a great time hanging out with Dare and his friends. I really like Zoe, and it’s fun to watch Justus flirt and try to rile up the others. They tease and taunt each other, but you can see how close they all are. I’m happy to see Tucker become a part of their little group.
“We’ll have to get together, go to the mall or something,” Zoe says, as we all head back to the cars.
“I’d love to.”
“I’ll call you and we’ll pick a day!” she calls, climbing in Landon’s car.
“Sounds good!”
Justus rides home with one of the other guys, so Dare and I are left alone in his car. “What’s this dance competition you were talking about with Zoe?”
I rub my pink hands together in front of the heat vent. “It’s a pretty big deal in the dance world. Nationally ranked dancers will be there, and one of the student’s I’ve been teaching is competing.”
“When is it?”
“You want to go?” I ask, surprised.
“Would you rather I didn’t?”
“No, I just…you don’t seem like the type to like dance.” A smile creases my face when I think of leading this huge tattooed man in to watch ballet.
His fingers slide between mine, and our hands rest on my thigh. “I like you.”
Chapter Ten
Ayda
Dare was disappointed when I told him I was going home for Christmas, and I know he was waiting on me to invite him, but there’s no way I’d subject him to my mother. With a kis
s and a promise to call, I left early Christmas Eve.
Dread settles in the pit of my stomach as I start to pass the familiar landmarks of my childhood. It’s not that my hometown of Lind, Ohio is terrible, it’s a typical middle sized Midwestern city, but the memories these streets bring back tear open wounds I thought were long healed.
My gaze soaks it up, taking in the small changes since I left. The small, family run café on the corner of Main Street is now a children’s thrift store, one of the gas stations is closed down, another has been converted to a coffee shop. It’s just past eight p.m. and most of the stores and businesses are turning out their lights and locking their doors.
The Beauty of Dance Academy is still illuminated, the bright light pouring through the large plate glass windows. My car seems to park itself in front of the school. I haven’t been through those doors since I was attacked, but I feel drawn to the place now.
Lena Sanger was my ballet teacher from the time I started at age nine until the day it was all taken from me. She was so much more than a teacher to me, and I feel guilty for not staying in touch. When my mother—or rather her husband—decided my dance lessons were a waste of money and refused to pay, she let me continue anyway, completely free.
In fact, she used her own money to make sure I had the costumes and gear I needed to compete, and took me to the competitions. She was the only one I had cheering me on. The last time I saw her was when she visited me in the burn unit of the hospital, and I was less than thrilled to see her. I didn’t want to see anyone, didn’t want to hear them tell me everything would be okay, when I knew nothing would ever be the same again.
The last students filter out the door, and I get out of the car before I can change my mind. The tiny bell on the door tinkles as I walk through, and Lena comes out of the dressing room to see who has entered. Her eyes nearly fall out of her head. “Ayda?”
She hasn’t changed much. Lena was always a tiny woman, thin and petite like me, with a voice that could make a grown man stare at his toes while she chewed him out. Her hair has a bit more gray, and there are a few more lines on her face, but other than that, it’s like I stepped back in time. I feel like a teenager again as I give an awkward wave. “Hi.”
A smile breaks across her face and she wraps her arms around me, hugging me hard. “It’s so good to see you! How are you? I just asked your mom about you last week when I saw her in the bank.”
Stepping back, I swallow the lump in my throat. I didn’t realize how much I missed this woman until now. “I’m good. Really good. I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch, and I’m sorry for how I acted when you came to visit me.”
She shakes her head. “Oh, honey, I never held that against you. It was a terrible time and you had to deal with it in your own way.”
I gesture to the new coffee shop across the street. “Have a cup of coffee with me?”
“Of course! Just let me lock up.”
Icy wind tries to slice us in half as we cross the road. It’s a relief to duck inside the warm coffee shop which is redolent with the scent of coffee and baked goods. After ordering our drinks and a cinnamon roll each, we settle at a small table in the corner.
“How is Arnold?” I ask her. Arnold is her husband of over thirty years. I’ve met him a few times when he accompanied her to competitions.
She laughs. “Driving me crazy. He retired this year, and if he doesn’t find a hobby other than yelling at football players on television, I’m going to choke him.” Her eyes shine as she speaks, her love for him obvious. “Now, tell me what you’ve been up to. Your mom said you’re living in Indianapolis.”
“I am. The physical therapy center they sent me to is there, so when I finished rehab, I decided it was a good place to start over. I work from home as a graphic artist, and give private dance lessons at a local school.”
She grins at me as she sips her coffee. “Husband? Boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend.” I pull out my phone and pull up a picture of Dare. He was lying on my couch, shirtless, flipping through the T.V. channels when I snuck a photo.
Laughing, she fans herself. “My goodness, girl, he’s hot as a basted turkey.”
“We haven’t been together long, but we’re happy.”
Her hand wraps around mine. “I’m so happy for you. How long are you in town?”
“Just for a couple of days. I’m just here to visit my mom.” My gaze meets hers and I shrug. “I promised.”
“Have you kept in touch with her?”
“We talk maybe once a month or so, but for some reason, she was insistent about me coming home at Christmas.”
Lena’s expression darkens. “I’m not trying to say anything negative about your family, hun, but you should know what you’re walking into. There has been a lot of talk around town about Gil. He’s been picked up twice for Public Intox. Darryl, the guy that works at the auto shop, found him passed out in the parking lot.”
“I’d like to say I’m surprised, but it’s pretty much what I expected. I got a room at the Comfort Inn, so I can make a quick escape when I want to.”
She nods and sits back in her seat. “Do you know your mom took a second job?”
Now, that’s news I haven’t heard, but I know why she didn’t mention it. Gil won’t hold a job since it interferes with his drinking and pill popping, and she knows I’m not going to be nice about pointing that out. I’ve never understood why she lets him get away with the shit he does, but for as long as I can remember, her goal in life has been to give him whatever he wants. Nothing matters but Gil getting his way, no matter the damage it may cause to other people. It’s been that way since they first met when I was ten.
“No, I didn’t know. Where’s she working?”
“Nights at the mower factory, mornings at the bakery.” It probably makes me seem like the worst daughter in the world that I don’t know what’s going on in her life, but she’s equally as clueless about mine. The truth is I don’t want to know. And the answer to the simplest question is always the same.
What is your mom doing these days?
Whatever Gil tells her to do.
It’s sickening, and I got sick of watching it, so I went my own way. It was the only good thing that came of what happened to me, being able to settle in Indianapolis, far from all the bullshit. It gave me a chance to start over and find people who actually care about me and what I want.
Lena and I spend a few more minutes chatting, and she catches me up on the local gossip, before I reluctantly return to my car and head to my mom’s house. Mom is just pulling into the driveway, her fifteen year old sedan chugging and sputtering, and she climbs out holding a large paper bag from the liquor store.
A brand new car sits beside hers. Is someone else visiting? I park behind her, and she waves when I climb out. “Ayda! You made it.”
“I did.” I gesture to the new car. “Is someone here? I don’t want to block them in.”
She flaps a hand at me. “No, that’s Gil’s car. Nice, isn’t it?”
Gil—who doesn’t do any work which doesn’t involve tilting his elbow—has a brand new car while she’s driving the POS to two jobs. “It’s nice. Bet the insurance payments are a bitch,” I remark.
She smiles, shaking her head. “Yeah, I started working mornings at the bakery to make up the difference.”
There about a thousand things I want to say right now—or scream—but I know it won’t do any good. The second I say anything negative about Gil, she’ll lose her fucking mind and start screaming about how worthless and ungrateful I am. I just want to get through the next twenty-four hours and go home.
As soon as I follow her inside, I’m glad I reserved a hotel room. Gil has always been a hoarder. In his mind, nothing is junk and he has to have it all, nothing can ever be thrown away, but things have really escalated since I was here last.
There’s barely a path through the living room to walk. Every inch of floor is piled with random junk, broken fishing poles, tools, buste
d small appliances. She leads me into the kitchen that smells of stale whiskey and old cheese. Half a bicycle rests against one wall, a stack of shoe boxes propping it up.
Gil lumbers out from the bedroom, his considerable gut leading the way, and grabs the bag from her hand. “About damn time.”
“Sorry, we had to work over a little.”
Grumbling, he makes his way back to the bedroom without acknowledging me, bottle in hand.
Merry fucking Christmas. Why did I come here again? I should be with Dare. “Do you want something to eat or drink?”
“No thanks. I stopped on the way.” Years of watching Gil scratch his nuts and pick his nose, then plunge his hands into the ice cube tray have taught me to avoid refreshments at their house.
“I was going to make a turkey dinner tomorrow, but I couldn’t afford to get the ingredients.” I don’t doubt it, since every dime she makes goes to Gil’s vices…and his new car.
“I was hoping to take you out to dinner tomorrow evening. Martha’s is open and serving Christmas dinner.”
Nervous eyes meet mine. “That sounds great. I’ll have to see what Gil wants, though. He and Martha had a falling out years ago, so he usually won’t go there.”
I’m at the end of my patience. “So, come without him. I’m only here until tomorrow night.”
“I’ll see. I’ll talk him into it.”
Talk him into letting her have dinner with her daughter on Christmas. I’m so disgusted. This isn’t one of those typical situations where the timid little housewife is afraid of her husband. He’s not violent or abusive, just petulant and demanding, as dangerous as a typical three year old throwing a tantrum.
And she isn’t weak. She proves that anytime anyone says something negative about Gil, and she attacks like a rabid dog. She loves him. Nothing and nobody else matters, including herself.
My head suddenly starts to ache, the smell of alcohol turning my stomach. “Claudia!” Gil bellows from the bedroom. “You took one of my Vicodin!”