Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  Tommy kicked his feet up on the coffee table. “Damn, Chris. What’s the big deal? She’s just a girl.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks.

  Jeremy glared at Tommy, giving him the ‘I’d-shut-the-fuck-up-if-I-were-you’ look.

  “What?” Tommy asked, ripping a bite of cold, leftover pizza off with the sides of his teeth like an uncivilized barbarian.

  “You’re disgusting, man,” Jeremy groaned, and threw a pillow at him.

  “What?” Tommy repeated. “I mean, who is this chick? She is just a girl, right?”

  I hadn’t really talked to the guys much about Salem or my whereabouts during my free time since the day they gave me shit about her. They knew there was a girl, but they didn’t know much more than that. I’d just let them assume whatever they wanted. So I guess the fact that Tommy didn’t have a clue was my own fault.

  “She’s not just a girl,” I stated, matter-of-factly. “She’s the girl.”

  Apparently Jeremy had been keeping tabs better than I thought because he chimed in, waving his hands in Tommy’s face, “Earth to Tommy. Remember the girl? The one he met in Charlotte a while ago. The one he didn’t want go out with us that night for. The former counselor. Ring a bell?”

  Tommy’s face lit up with understanding. “Oh shit. That girl?”

  I nodded. “Yes. That girl.”

  “Damn. I thought she was just a thing. I thought you moved here to be closer to your family, not because of some chick.”

  I shook my head adamantly. “I told you a while ago, she’s different.”

  A moment of clarity hit him like a ton of bricks. I knew what he was thinking. He was remembering all the hell I’d been through over Kaitlyn and how I never let another girl get to me like she did—until now. “Well, hell,” he said, throwing the half-eaten slice back into the box. “That changes things.”

  Tommy didn’t have the emotional capacity to understand my feelings for Kaitlyn because the right woman just hadn’t come along for him yet. But he did see how shattered I was after she left the beach all those years ago. He watched me mope around the apartment, unable to eat or sleep. Those first few weeks after she was gone, he played the bass next to me on that stage, sensing the hollowness in my music. He bought me round after round of alcohol, trying to help me wash the pain of losing her away. He stood by me the day we signed with our first agent, and he watched me take that downward spiral into stardom. Yes, downward. There’s just something ironic about the phrase ‘rising to the top.’ That’s the thing about becoming a star. One day you’re this average, down-to-earth, good-hearted, talented artist and then suddenly you find yourself in a crazy whirlwind of money, parties, women, and alcohol. You become so wrapped up in it all that you don’t know which way is up or which way is down. You do things you never would have done in your average world because somehow becoming a star makes you feel larger than life. So, yeah, Tommy was with me every step of that downward spiral, helping me cope with the heartache of losing Kaitlyn in the only ways he knew how—women and alcohol.

  “So, this girl’s the one, huh?” Tommy asked, tossing his pizza box in the garbage.

  I nodded.

  With a huge smile, and firm handshake that turned into our usual intricately choreographed display of hand movements that ended with a fist bump, he said, “I couldn’t be happier for you, man.”

  “Thanks, man,” I said, giving him a one-armed side hug.

  Just then, we heard a soft knock at the door.

  I jogged to it, swinging it open. There stood Salem, beautiful as ever in a soft, black off-the-shoulder shirt, some skin-tight dark wash jeans, and some sexy as hell high heels.

  My eyes raked over her exquisite body. “You look stunning,” I told her, wrapping my arms around her. “I’ve missed you this week.”

  She buried her head in my chest, inhaling a deep, staggering breath. “I’ve missed you too.”

  I ran my hands through her hair and across her back, feeling her warmth against me. Damn, I so wish we were alone right now.

  Remembering that we weren’t the only two people in the room, I interrupted the moment by blurting, “Oh yeah, come on in. I want you to meet my boys.”

  She stepped inside and it was as if all the oxygen were sucked out of the room. You could almost hear a pin drop. The guys stood there with their hands in their pockets, wide-eyed with that deer-in-headlights look. I knew they were just as blown away by her classic beauty as I was.

  “Guys,” I said, snapping them to attention, “this is Salem. Salem, this is Jeremy and Tommy.”

  Salem extended a hand to Jeremy first. “It’s so nice to finally meet you…uh…”

  Taking her hand and giving it a shake, he responded, “Jeremy. It’s nice to meet you too, Salem. We’ve heard a lot about you.” Jeremy shot a sidelong glance in my direction.

  Salem chuckled. “All good stuff, I hope.”

  “Oh definitely.” Jeremy released her hand and immediately stuffed it back into his pocket. I never knew a woman to make him so nervous.

  Tommy reached out, taking Salem’s hand. “And I’m Tommy. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Salem,” he said, branding the top of her hand with a kiss…something he did to all the ladies. He really knew how to turn on the charm around women.

  “So nice to meet you too, Tommy.” She curtsied in response to his gentleman’s kiss.

  Breaking up the awkward introductions, I said, “Sit down. Stay a while. Anybody want a beer or soda?”

  Salem took a seat on the sofa. “Sure, I’ll have a soda if you’ve got one.”

  I walked into the kitchen with Jeremy following close behind.

  “You didn’t tell us how fucking hot she is,” he hissed. I didn’t know I was obligated to.

  “Watch it, now,” I teased, opening the fridge.

  “No, seriously,” he said in a hushed tone. “So, this is the counselor? The juvie counselor?”

  “Yes,” I whispered harshly, then called out to Salem, “Coke or Sprite?”

  “Coke, please,” she answered. Thankfully she was far enough away that she couldn’t hear the ramblings of my asshole band mates.

  Turning back to the refrigerator to grab a can, Tommy leaned over the open door.

  “So, this is your fucking juvie counselor?” His voice was low, like I was doing something dirty.

  I shrugged, annoyed that this was such a big deal. “Yes. Why is this such a hard concept to understand?”

  “Because we expected her to be ancient, not sexy as hell,” he murmured, glancing in her direction as she stared out the window.

  Asshole better watch it. “I told you guys, she was only twenty-four when I was almost eighteen. There wasn’t that much of an age difference. And besides, I already told you she was smokin’ hot.” Now back the fuck off.

  “Yeah,” Jeremy looked wistfully her direction as she stared out the window. “We just didn’t expect her to be this...” He stopped himself before he got himself punched in the throat.

  I flashed my best ‘back-the-hell-off’ look, and pushed past his stupid, horny ass to give Salem her soda, leaving them both gawking by the fridge, jealous as fuck.

  “Thanks,” Salem said as I handed her the soda and gave her a quick peck on the lips. “Your band mates are nice.”

  I glared back at the two dumbasses standing in the kitchen. “Yeah, for a couple of idiots, they’re not half bad.”

  Jeremy and Tommy finally grew a set and joined us. As much as they drove me crazy, they were like my brothers. I couldn’t stay mad for long.

  The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. We drank some beer, ordered a pizza, and played some cards. Salem fit in just like one of the guys, only a hell of a lot sexier.

  I stole some glances and found my hand sliding up her thigh more than one time during the night.

  I was glad the guys were finally able to meet her. While I didn’t really need their approval, I still smiled when Tommy gave me a wink on his way out the door and w
hispered, “You’re a lucky man.”

  “Thanks bro,” I said, looking at the amazing woman standing next to me. “I think so too.”

  ****

  SALEM

  I’d had a blast that night with Jeremy and Tommy. It was fun to see the guys bring out that side of Chris—the cut-loose, not-a care-in-the-world Chris. While the transition from traveling on tour to settling down and opening the recording studio had gone pretty smoothly, it was still stressful nonetheless. Chris needed that night to relax and unwind. The guys were an absolute hoot. They kept us both in stitches the whole time. I was already looking forward to their next visit.

  The following night Chris and I kept it low key, choosing to stay at home and cook a homemade meal. After dinner was over and the kitchen had been cleaned, we were curled up on my sofa watching our favorite late night comedy show when my cell phone rang. The caller ID popped up on the screen.

  “It’s Alexis,” I said, reaching for the phone.

  Chris grabbed the remote to mute the sound on the television. A worried look came over his face. He knew she wouldn’t call unless there was a problem.

  I’d always told Alexis she could tell me anything. We had the kind of relationship most mothers dreamed of having with their teenage daughters. I’d spent years trying to undo all the ugly thoughts I’d had when she was a baby while I was in the depths of my postpartum depression. Probably overcompensating for my guilt, I’d worked hard to build a firm mother/daughter bond. Once Alexis became a teenager we’d had discussion after discussion about her being able to come to me about anything. Ever. I just never expected that night would come so soon.

  “Hello?” I answered, bringing the phone to my ear.

  Alexis’s voice was hushed, but frantic. “Mom, can you come get me?”

  Come get her? She was supposed to be at Olivia’s house. Why would she need me to come get her? Panic immediately welled up in my chest.

  I switched our conversation to ‘speaker mode’ and laid the phone on the coffee table, scanning the room for my shoes. “Of course, honey. What’s wrong? Where are you? Where’s Olivia?” I pumped her for answers.

  “Mom…I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.”

  Chris was already off the couch, grabbing his jacket and reaching for his keys.

  “Where are you, honey? Are you okay?” I was starting to feel the panic welling up in my chest.

  Alexis whispered harshly into the phone, her voice laden with fear. “I’m fine. I just need you to come get me, please. We’re at a party.”

  “A party?” My voice raised an octave, but I didn’t want to push her away. Lowering my voice I repeated, “A party? Where?”

  “Down past the old furniture factory.”

  Southside? She’s always known better than to go to Southside. That’s a dangerous area. “The old factory? Alexis, that’s in Southside. What are you doing all the way in Southside?”

  “I know, mom. It was a mistake.” By that time, I could hear the sobs in Alexis’s voice. “Olivia’s dating a guy from Southside and wanted to sneak out to come see him, so I agreed. But she left with him. Please, mom. Come quick. I’m scared here by myself.”

  Chris nodded and handed me my purse, directing his voice to the speakerphone, he assured her, “I grew up in Southside. We’ll be there as quick as we can.” Something about the sound of his voice gave me the sense that he was scared too.

  I held the phone in my hand as we were walking out the door. “Okay, honey. We’ll be there soon. Can you tell me exactly where you’re at? A road? A neighborhood?”

  “I don’t know, mom. I think it’s called Park-something.”

  Chris’s eyes darkened and a grave look flashed across his face. His voice was stone cold when he spoke. “Parkwood Heights. Got it.” Then softening his tone, he spoke to Alexis, “Don’t worry, honey, we’ll be there soon.”

  Stoic, he stalked to the car and held the door open for me. Circling to his side, he sank into the driver’s seat and started the engine. He was starting to freak me out.

  His solemnness spoke volumes as he silently steered the car out of the driveway. His knuckles were white, firmly clutching the wheel. I tried not to lose it as I watched his jaw twitch in the darkness. Clearly Parkwood Heights was no place for my daughter.

  The streets were lined with vehicles. Multiple duplexes stretched from one corner to the next. The neighborhood was dark. Only a few porch lights were illuminated. When we pulled up to a stop sign I noticed a few dark figures sitting in folding lawn chairs around a small fire pit.

  “Don’t look,” Chris hissed. “The people in this neighborhood won’t think twice about smashing our windshield with a crowbar.”

  I snapped my head forward, tearing my eyes away from the scene. My heart pounded in my chest. “Why would she come here?” I pleaded, begging for some kind of understanding.

  Chris shook his head solemnly. “Teenagers do crazy things. Text her and ask where I need to turn?”

  The phone shook in my unsteady hands as my fingers nervously tapped out the message. I immediately got a response.

  “She said the party is near the old high school. She remembers driving by it. I guess we just look for a bunch of cars parked out front.”

  “Got it,” Chris said with an unexplainable look of fear, mixed with anger and vigilance.

  We pulled onto the street behind the old high school and suddenly I understood Chris’s plight. An eerie feeling washed over me as we drove down the dark and empty street. I just wanted to find my daughter and get the hell out of there. I silently thanked God when we pulled up to a house with a driveway full of cars and all the lights on as though there may be a party going on inside.

  We’re here. Coming in to get you, I texted Alexis. Oh god, I hope she’s okay.

  Chris pulled me out of the car and wrapped his arm around my trembling body. “Don’t worry,” he said as he closed the car door behind me. “It’s gonna be all right.”

  We walked toward the front door of the house. A few guys were leaning against the railing of the front porch while a couple of girls sat on a dilapidated sofa.

  “’Sup?” Chris said, nodding in their direction. “Alexis here?” The tone of his voice was deep and confident. I, on the other hand, I was shaking like a leaf under Chris’s protective arm.

  “Who?” one guy asked, chugging his beer and tossing the empty bottle into the bush behind him.

  There was no time for explanations. “My daughter,” Chris demanded. “I came to get my daughter.”

  The guy shook his head. “Sorry, man. I don’t know anyone here by that name.”

  One of the girls on the sofa giggled. “You lookin’ for that skinny white girl that Deuce been tryin’ to hook up with all night?”

  Chris nodded. “Yeah.”

  She pointed toward the window. “She’s prolly inside. Deuce can’t keep his hands off her.”

  Chris stiffened beside me, bristling with anger. “Thanks,” he said flatly and pulled me toward the front door.

  The bass of the music thumped in my chest the moment Chris opened the door. We waded through a sea of plastic cups and long neck bottles, searching for Alexis.

  Making our way to the kitchen, we hoped we’d find her quickly. Sifting through the hazy shroud of exhaled chronic that lingered above our heads, I heard the clinking of glasses as a small group was playing a game of Quarters on the kitchen table.

  Suddenly, someone stepped in front of us. “Yo, you lost?” the guy asked.

  “Nah, man,” Chris shrugged. “Just looking for Alexis. You seen her?”

  “There’s no one here by that name,” the guy said flatly, obviously unwilling to help.

  Chris wasn’t fazed. “Maybe your boy Deuce can help us find her.” He stared the kid down, unyielding.

  The dude glared back, stepping toward him. “Sorry. No one here by that name either.”

  Chris’s eyes darkened. “Look, kid. Don’t fuck with me. I’m here to get Alexi
s. Now you either point me in the right direction, or you and your buddies can all find yourselves stuffed in the back of police car by the looks of this little shindig you’re throwing.” Chris pinched his finger and thumb together, held them to his lips, and inhaled as if he were smoking a joint.

  The guy’s face hardened. “You threatening me, asshole?”

  Chris stared him down. “Nope,” he deadpanned.

  After an intense moment of clenching fists and twitching jaws, the guy finally relented. “Down the hall,” he said, flicking his head in that direction. “You might find her there.”

  “Thanks…pal,” Chris said sarcastically, patronizing him with a friendly pat on the shoulder.

  We made our way down the hall. That’s when I heard it…the quiet whimper of Alexis behind one of the closed doors. I knew it was my daughter. I knew the timbre and tone of every noise she’d ever made her whole life.

  Chris froze beside me. I could feel the intensity of his rage radiating off of him. “Mother fucker,” he breathed, barreling forward.

  Flinging the door open, he burst into the room with no holds barred. I barged in behind him. All I saw was Alexis’s hair against the wall with another guy trapping her there. The guy’s hands were on either side of her head, and he was leaned in like he was going for a kiss. In an instant, the guy who was pressing my daughter against the wall was lying flat on his back on the floor with Chris’s forearm against his throat.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing, asshole?” Chris growled, shaking with intensity.

  Alexis ran toward me in a disheveled mess. “Mom!” she cried, collapsing into my arms, sobbing against my chest.

  “Get off me,” Deuce hissed through his teeth.

  “What did you do to her, mother fucker?” Chris snarled, pressing his arm harder against Deuce’s throat.

  “Nothing,” Deuce choked.