by London Casey
The man I was feeling things about already.
I forced my jaw to close.
I heard the sound of a motorcycle engine kick up. A few seconds later the thundering grew louder and Cass came flying out of the side road on a motorcycle. He breezed through a stop sign like it wasn’t even there, cut to the right, sending the back tire flying out. He looked like he was going to fall over, but he didn’t.
The engine roared long after he was out of sight.
I just sat there, in shock.
That man was the father of Paisley.
That man, for some reason, meant something to me.
Cass
NOW
Scarlett.
Where the fuck did that come from?
I hadn’t heard that name out loud since I last spoke it, drunk on a tour bus, stranded with a flat tire, sitting on the roof of the bus, throwing an empty whiskey bottle into a pond. I tried to stand and piss off the bus. I slipped, fell, rolled off the fucking tour bus, and dislocated my shoulder.
In some ways that was the beginning of the end of my rock star life. But that life was heading for disaster from the second I stepped on stage. The money was amazing, but hiding behind someone else’s message was killing me.
Every once in a while someone would stop by the shop and want to talk about the road. About the life. About touring. They’d want dirt on old bands. They’d want to drum up old rumors about me. Or sometimes one of the guys I used to play with would get busted for drugs or something dumb—or end up dead—and then a reporter would show up and want to know about him.
That’s what that had to be. It didn’t make sense why she brought up Scarlett’s name. And so fast like that. Did that mean Scarlett was out there tossing stories around about me? Shit. I hadn’t heard from her since that night we spent together.
I grabbed the mug of beer and threw it back. That was my third drink and I still couldn’t stop thinking about Diem. She said she was Scarlett’s friend. Strip that bullshit away, she was fucking beautiful. Damn near the complete opposite of what I remembered about Scarlett in terms of features and whatnot. It was the first time in a long time that I looked at woman and felt something other than my cock twitch. Seeing the way she looked at that drawing on the wall. A drawing that was merely a memory which helped to shape my life. The night I ran away, came back home, but honestly was always away.
The way her hair flowed down to the middle of her back. The way she spun around when I said something. The look in her eyes. She knew me. But I didn’t know her. Yet, the second I looked into her eyes, I felt like I knew her. Some kind of connection. Then she threw out Scarlett’s name and took off.
“Another?” Pecker asked me from behind the bar.
“Fill it up,” I said.
Pecker owned the bar, taking over when his father, Mikey died of a massive heart attack out of nowhere. Pecker’s real name was Mikey Jr. but he hated it. I only knew him as Pecker and the story behind the name always changed.
I had some of my boys with me there, too. Throwing some darts, shooting some pool, eyes open for any women looking for a little fun for the night.
Carter sat at the bar next to me, still mending his broken heart. He and Jess had a wild relationship that came to a crazy end when she threw a knife at him. The cops got twisted up in it and Jess split town, heading back east to her hometown. She was probably smart to do that. Hundred Falls Valley had a way of eating people up and keeping them trapped there. Old timers like Pecker never knew anything but the town. Guys like me who were transplants got comfortable too easily and did their best to let the past slip away.
Of course, beer and shots of whiskey helped with that last part too.
Carter was nice and tuned up when he looked at me. “You ever love someone?”
His breath was pure whiskey.
“Yeah, brother, I have.”
“You lose her?”
“She left me,” I said.
Scarlett.
“So what did you do?”
“Christ, Carter, we’ve been through this before. Ten times. You just figure it out. Sack up and walk away. Look across the bar. I think you got some eyes on you.”
I stood up and grabbed my beer. I put my arm around Carter. I looked right at the woman looking at him. Shit, she might have been looking at me. But that’s okay.
“Everyone knows your heart is broken,” I said to him. “That makes a woman’s pussy wet.”
“Why? Tell me why.”
“Makes you vulnerable. Cracks your shell a little. They think they’re getting a deeper connection. And when that happens, you get to go deep in them. So stand up and walk around the bar and get deep in her.”
Carter hung his head. “Fuck this. Fuck all of this.”
I turned and saw River sink what was the eight ball to end a pool game between he and Breck. I watched as Breck emptied his pocket onto the table.
“What do you got there?” I asked, walking to the table.
“Ten bucks,” Breck said. “A bolt. A nickel. A receipt for gas. And a condom.”
I grabbed the condom and showed it to River. “Look. It’s the first one he ever bought. Still unused.”
“Hey, fuck yourself, Cass,” Breck said.
“He’s just pissed because I cleaned him out,” River said. “Speaking of which—I need to get laid. Tonight.”
“Hanging around a bunch of guys, shooting pool, that ain’t going to cut it,” I said.
“Hey, check it out,” Breck said. “Talking about getting laid. Look at what just walked in.”
I turned my head and felt a jolt shoot through me. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“You know her?” River asked.
“You guys stay back,” I said. “This one’s mine.”
“I saw her first,” Breck said.
“Shut up, Breck,” I said.
I turned and felt the anger already starting to boil. I wasn’t in the mood for this.
No games tonight, darlin’.
I walked to the bar, unaware of how fucking crazy my life was about to get.
She didn’t even see me coming.
It was her … the woman from St. Skin looking to dig into my past.
Diem was here, ordering a drink.
Diem
NOW
I got about twenty minutes home and decided against it. I checked in with Susie and everything with Paisley was fine. No fever. No crying. Just having fun, or at least as much fun as a baby could possibly have. I told Susie I saw Cass but didn’t have the guts to tell him. She reminded me of everything I had said to her, about carrying such a burden and what it could mean for Paisley.
So I turned around and went to a diner by myself. I sat there and ate alone, thinking. In my bag I had the notebook from Scarlett. I had pictures of Paisley. I had the half ripped piece of paper with handwriting on it. I could only assume it was Cass’s writing. It had to have some meaning if Scarlett kept it.
I finished my food and went into the bathroom to freshen up. I felt like I was on the run from the law or something. Checking my hair in the mirror. Checking my teeth. Hell, it was almost like going on a date. What was that? My dating life had been non-existent and for good reason. But I would never blame Paisley. No way.
Staring at my reflection I reminded myself of my purpose. To tell Cass the truth. To let him play the hand however he wanted. Then I would have the comfort of knowing his reaction and go from there. Yeah, it was a risk, but Paisley was worth it. If there was a chance that she could have her father in her life, I had to go for it.
That statement would forever change my life.
I looked around casually and found a seat at the bar. My heart was racing. I swore everyone was looking at me. I got the whole small town vibe. I was a stranger and it was obvious. Nobody knew me and nobody knew why I was there. I just needed to fit in for a minute and then find out where Cass was.
The guy behind the bar pointed right at me. “Now there’s a face
I don’t remember.”
“Draft, please,” I said.
“Don’t want to talk, huh? Understand. What kind?”
“Surprise me,” I said.
I didn’t plan on drinking. But a few sips of beer could take the edge off a little. The last time I was in a bar was before Paisley came into my life. Funny how little things like going out never meant so much to me until it was taken away.
No, Diem, not taken away. You gave up. For good reason.
“This one’s on me,” the guy said. “Tell me what you think.”
I wanted to tell him no thanks, but he was gone.
I put the mug to my lips. It was warm, but the beer was cold. And good. Really good.
I licked my lips and nodded.
I nudged myself—I wasn’t there to drink or taste test beer. I was there to find—
“Diem,” a voice said.
There was only one person in the town that knew my name.
I turned and Cass was standing there. Wearing the same clothes. His massive arms still pushing at his shirt, looking like the threads were a second away from ripping under the pressure. His lip had a slight curl to it. He looked ready to pounce.
Pounce on me, big man.
I looked away. Where the hell did that thought come from?
“What is this?” he asked. “You here to break my balls about my rock star life?”
“Actually, no,” I said. “I’m here to tell you something. I don’t know how to say it. So I’m just going to blurt it out. Can we talk somewhere private?”
“No,” Cass said. “You have something to say? Spill it here. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
I looked around.
This was it.
The big moment.
I took a breath.
“Okay then. I came here to tell you … Cass, you have a daughter.”
In my mind there were plenty of ways for it to go. But laughing I did not expect.
Cass burst into a heavy laugh, one that threatened to shake the dive bar to nothing but rubble. He rubbed his forehead with his hand.
“You came here to tell me that,” he said.
I jumped off the barstool. “This isn’t a joke. You got Scarlett pregnant that night. She had a ba—”
Cass killed the space between us. His rough and tough body was right up against mine. The barstool dug into the top of my ass. I had to lean back.
He towered over me. “Don’t bring her into this.”
“I have no choice,” I said. “This isn’t a joke.”
“How do you know her?”
“She’s my best friend,” I said. “I’ve been debating on how to do this for a long time, Cass. I’m sorry. But it’s the truth. I have pictures.”
“You have pictures,” he said.
I saw the anger and shock on his face.
“Yes. Of your daughter.”
“Stop saying that,” he said. “You know, I was a backup guitarist. Did I make some money? Yeah. But I’m not a goddamn rich washed up rock star, darlin’. Go cash in your lottery ticket somewhere else.”
Cass stepped back.
I grabbed for him, like I did back at the tattoo shop.
I had his wrists in my hands for a split second before he broke away. “This isn’t a lottery ticket! I’m raising your daughter. I need your help, Cass.”
His lip curled again. “And why exactly are you raising my daughter?”
That’s when it hit me again. I had been so focused on telling him about Paisley that I completely forgot that he didn’t know about Scarlett passing away. Talk about a one two punch. I put my hand to my mouth and shook my head.
Fight or flight kicked in, just like before. Only this time, I was cornered. Cass moved toward me again.
“Look, darlin’, my patience is at zero,” he said. “So say something or else you’re out of here.”
I moved my hand from my mouth. “I can’t believe I have to tell you this. Scarlett’s … gone.”
“Gone?”
“Gone. She passed away. She died in a car accident, Cass. Not long after giving birth.”
“Wait a fucking second,” Cass said, shaking his head. “What the hell is this?”
“Please just listen to me for a second,” I snapped.
Our eyes locked and I could feel the emotion wanting to explode out of him.
He really loved her. It wasn’t just Scarlett in love with him.
I suddenly felt way out of place and way in over my head. Drowning wasn’t even the right word. I was dead in the water here and had no escape at all.
The bar felt like it was closing in on me. I started to panic, which was normally something I could deal with. Except when I smelled smoke. No, there wasn’t any smoke in the bar other than when someone opened the door and a waft of cigarette smoke came in. This smell was all in my mind. My memory. My brain able to take control of my sense of smell. The smoke … thick smoke. Dangerous smoke. Smoke that changed my life.
“I’m listening, darlin’,” Cass said.
I had to finish what I started. I didn’t just kick the hornet’s nest here. I stuck my hand into the nest.
“Cass, I’m so sorry. Scarlett died in a car accident. I was babysitting her baby. Your baby. Yours and her daughter. That night you spent with her. I know all about it. Trust me. I heard about it for a long time.”
“No,” Cass growled. “I don’t believe this for a second. You know how many people come through here wanting to claim a piece of me? I’m a tattoo artist, darlin’. I’m not a rock star anymore.”
“I’m not here about any of that,” I said. “I’m here for you. For the man behind it all. To see if you want to be a father.”
Want to be a father? You are a father, Cass. You made Paisley. Now I’m raising her, alone.
“You know what I want?” Cass asked. “For you to turn that pretty face of yours away and just go. Get back into your car and go home. Forget whatever you think you know about me. You came here to talk about a one night stand? A baby she had? And she’s dead? This is fucked up joke.”
“I’m not joking, dammit,” I yelled. Now I had eyes on me. I gained the attention of other people in the bar. “She was my best friend and she’s dead. I offered to babysit her baby and now I’m raising her baby. And that baby has a right to know its father. That’s you.”
Cass’s eyes went wide. His hands slowly balled up into fists. I wasn’t afraid of him coming after me, but I was afraid of him hurting me. Afraid that he would be the man he looked like and not the man I had drawn so many times, fantasizing about him.
“Prove it,” he said.
I grabbed for my bag. I could have shown him the pictures of Paisley. If he was half decent he’d see the pictures and know she was his. I couldn’t deny it myself, even if I tried. Scarlett had been known to get around but when it came to this situation it was pretty clear.
I skipped the pictures though. I grabbed the paper with words written on them.
I brought it out and slammed it against Cass’s chest. His rock hard, well defined chest.
That’s when his hand touched mine. I snatched my hand away.
Cass looked at the piece of paper and I knew. I knew he wrote those words. I knew that Scarlett stole those words, along with something else of his. I knew that I could make this right. Somehow make it right.
The look that spread across his face made Cass seem young and open to pain.
I reached for him. “Cass … I don’t know you. But I need to know you. I need to know—”
“Get the fuck out of here,” he said, not looking up.
“What?”
“Get the fuck out of this bar,” he growled. Now his eyes met mine. Now I was afraid. “Right now. Go.”
“Cass—”
“Out,” his voice bellowed, carrying through the bar.
I felt like everyone in the bar was looking at us.
“I found that in a box of hers,” I said. “Along with stories about you. She wrote about yo
u. And she carried your baby. I’m not demanding you do anything—”
“Normally when a person says to go, you go,” Cass said. His hand crumbled up the page with his words on them. “Now go.”
“I came here—”
“Now go the hell home,” Cass said.
He turned and walked away from me. I watched him walk to two guys. Those two guys started to approach me. Cass grabbed a pool stick and swung it, breaking it like a pencil against the edge of a pool table. He grabbed a pool ball and chucked it like a pitcher throwing a fast ball in a baseball game. It smashed against a beer sign mirror, splattering glass everywhere.
“Hey!” the guy from behind the bar yelled. “That’s enough!”
“It’s her!” one of the guys said and pointed at me. “She’s doing this to him. She’s got to go.”
Now I was the target? I was the enemy?
Judging by the looks I was getting, I was definitely that.
Next thing I knew I had two guys escorting me out of the bar. Outside the bar, the two stood at the entrance like bodyguards. They watched me walk to my car.
I got inside, started it, and was in complete shock.
That shock layered me for the miles I drove out of Hundred Falls Valley. I hated driving in the dark but I wasn’t even looking at the road. I smelled smoke the entire time home. The only good thing to come of it was that by the time I got home, it was so late, Susie offered to spend the night.
I felt robotic as I walked through the house. As I stood at Paisley’s crib. As I touched her head and leaned down to kiss her. As I went to bed. My empty bed. My big and empty bed.
It was only then, long after midnight, that I was able to shake away the feeling of shock.
I cried.
For Paisley. For Scarlett. For Cass even.
For the first time in a long time, I cried for myself.
I was going to be alone … there was no hero coming to save me, just a washed up rockstar turned tattoo artist who’d rather hide in a bar.
Cass
NOW
She’s everything and everywhere, as it ripples across her heart.