Renegade

by Shannon Myers

  Her emotions mirrored mine. There was a certain weariness that I’d been carrying when I was around David. Like I didn’t deserve to be happy if he wasn’t.

  I kissed her neck and blurted out, “Please tell me that won’t be us.”

  Shit. I didn’t know where that came from.

  She regarded me with a serious expression that slowly turned into a smirk. “Seeing as to how you’re the only man I’ve ever been with, I don’t feel like it’s fair for you to put these limitations on me. I just dipped my toe in the water. I haven’t even had a chance to experience all the world has to offer.”

  I pinched her arm and she squeaked in surprise. “Stop. I’m serious.”

  Drop it, Mike.

  I couldn’t though. There were words hung up in the back of my throat and while I knew that I was nowhere ready to say them, I was trying my best to communicate how much she meant to me.

  She was the exception to my every rule, but it wasn't love. I couldn’t recall ever caring about anything but myself.

  It was just some long-term lust. I refused to accept anything else.

  Had I ever truly loved anything in my life?

  I couldn’t remember.

  I’d learned early on that nothing good lasted and it left me jaded. I respected my mother, but her constant back and forth with my father made me hate her at times. I’d admired Grey up until a point, but even that had morphed into bitterness. I’d lusted more times than I could count, but those feelings seemed to disappear the minute I sank my dick into them.

  There was nothing in my life that I couldn’t part with—except her.

  And it concerned me.

  She bit down on the corner of her lip and gave me a half smile. “Me too.” I frowned until she gave in. “Fine. I’m kidding. Of course that won’t be us—we have our shit together and we’re not keeping secrets. Their relationship was failing long before they cheated—it happened when they stopped confiding in each other.”

  I blamed the weighted feeling in my chest on the McDonald’s and not on the impact of her words. I couldn’t confide in her—if she knew half the shit I’d done, she’d have me hit with a restraining order before I’d even finished talking. It could potentially put her in a lot of danger too—Grey had been adamant that no one know about our deal.

  Regardless of whether or not I’d planned it, she was my girl now. I had to keep her safe.

  I pulled her into my arms and held on for dear life—wishing for the one millionth time since meeting her that I was the man she imagined me to be.

  Hell, I would’ve even settled for being Jack, a down-on-my-luck surfer. That would’ve at least been more believable.

  Lauren

  August 2014

  Elizabeth eyed me suspiciously. “Lauren, what do you mean David thinks Landon broke into the house? Have you been talking to him behind my back?”

  Where had it all gone wrong?

  Oh, right. I’d opened my big mouth and ruined the entire evening.

  I’d gotten a text from David earlier that simply read,

  “Elizabeth’s not doing well right now. Any chance you could check in on her?”

  Mike had plans to come over for dinner, but got a call right as he got off, so I’d agreed. It had been that or sitting at home alone. Plus, I’d gotten excited at the prospect of the two of them working everything out. How else would he have known how she was feeling?

  I’d even gone to the trouble of picking up some groceries for the baby. I might’ve gone overboard, but the pregnancy blogs said that pregnant women needed at least a thousand milligrams of calcium a day. That seemed like a ridiculous amount of milk to be drinking, so I’d gotten her some yogurt…and cheese…and ice cream. You know, to balance it all out.

  While she’d teased me about it, it didn’t escape my notice that she’d immediately gone for the mint chocolate chip ice cream. I’d considered telling her not to eat the entire carton, but then she started talking about David and I forgot. Sucked into the drama, I ended up grabbing a spoon and joining her.

  It had all seemed terribly romantic—it was the stuff of Danielle Steele novels. He’d shown up and they’d been arguing when he backed her up against the wall and kissed the hell out of her. If Mike had shown up and done something like that to me, I’d never be able to stay mad at him.

  Elizabeth’s resolve was a bit stronger than mine, it turned out. She’d blamed her reaction on pregnancy hormones and not the fact that her estranged husband was an alpha male trying to reclaim what was his.

  And then the conversation took a hard right turn into a mine field. She mentioned Landon and it just slipped out. “David thinks that he’s the one who broke into your house.” I’d slapped a hand over my mouth as if it would erase it. The moment the words left my mouth, I realized how it sounded.

  I’d begun backpedaling almost immediately. “Elizabeth, I shouldn’t have said anything. Let’s talk about something else. I know—how about those Rangers? I mean, they beat the White Sox last night, but boy has this season been rough. And they’ve got the Astros in a couple of days, it doesn’t look good right now.”

  Mike really liked baseball. He’d played in high school and was never one to miss a Rangers game. I knew enough, thanks to Josué’s love of the Boston Red Sox, so I’d gladly watched it with him. Plus, it gave me a reprieve from the History channel.

  Elizabeth, it turned out, did not give a damn about baseball. She jumped up from her chair and began stalking toward me. “You’re talking to David behind my back aren’t you? What have you told him? Does he know I’m pregnant? Dammit, I trusted you, just like I trusted she-who-shall-not-be-named. This is how you repay me?”

  I pleaded, “Wait! Elizabeth, wait. Just calm down!”

  “Calm down? I need to calm down because yet another friend of mine has fallen under the spell that is David Greene?”

  Oh, Jesus.

  She thought I was like Jess? It made me sick to my stomach. I didn’t know if the pregnancy hormones were making things worse or if she was always that scary when mad, but I took several steps away from her nonetheless.

  Seeing no other option, I finally threw my hands up. “Stop shouting! It’s not what you think. I swear I haven’t been talking to David—his text to me tonight was the first I’d heard from him since everything happened!”

  She was completely rabid with anger. “Then how do you know what David suspects in the case of the break-in? The only logical explanation is that you’re talking to him.”

  So much for secrets…

  “I’m sleeping with Mike!” I yelled the words over hers and then we just stood in complete silence, each of us trying to regain our breath.

  Her face fell, “What? Oh my God. Laur—I’m sorry! And, congratulations? How long has this been going on? And why didn’t you tell me?”

  Because you and your husband had just split up?

  “We’ve been sort of dating since the night we all went out together. And I was going to tell you, but I worried about what you’d think—worried we’d end up like this.”

  She reached toward me and I flinched until I realized she was pulling me into a hug. “I’m awful—I’m sorry. I’m not even going to try and blame this on pregnancy. It’s just that I lost one friend already and I couldn’t bear it if I lost you too.”

  Then I said something that had been on my mind for weeks. “I know it’s only been a couple of months, but I think I love him.”

  It was crazy, right?

  People didn’t fall in love just like that.

  And certainly not after two months of dating. At first, I told myself it was the sex, but that was only part of it. It was him—the way he was with me.

  She grinned, “That’s awesome news. He’s a good guy. What did you mean by ‘sort of dating’ though? It seems like you’re legitimately dating him if you ask me.”

  I hadn’t been brave enough to ask him what we were for fear of backing him into a corner and losing him for good. I couldn’t
tell her that though.

  I sat down on the sofa and began messing with my necklace. “Well, we didn’t know how either of you would take it, so we’ve kept everything very low key. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let me see the pictures of my future niece or nephew again.”

  She got up and grabbed the sonogram pictures for me and then gave me a pained look.

  “What,” I asked.

  She bit her lip. “Laur—I know you don’t wanna talk about it anymore, but seeing as to how my soon to be ex-husband left me with a severe case of female blue balls—is Mike, um, big everywhere?”

  My mouth fell open, “Elizabeth Greene, you did not just ask me if my boyfriend is ‘big.’ Dear lord, you really are letting these hormones take over aren’t you?”

  She groaned, “Yes. If I’m not puking, I’m dreaming up ways to seduce David. So, in light of the fact that some of us are going through a bit of a dry spell, you owe me. I guess just tell me how the sex is.”

  I laughed. “It’s a good thing I like so you much, you pervert. If you need to excuse yourself to take care of your ‘situation,’ I’ll just play Candy Crush on my phone while I wait. Oh, and to answer your question—phenomenal. It’s absolutely phenomenal.”

  I instantly saw an image of him holding himself up above me—his face fixed in concentration. It was enough to leave me breathless.

  “You’re killing me. That’s all I get? Phenomenal?”

  I nodded with a patient smile. “If I say anymore, I’m afraid you’ll spontaneously combust in your chair!”

  “How am I going to make it through the next thirty-one weeks of pregnancy if I’m in this constant state of arousal?”

  “You’ll be rubbing up against strangers on the street!” God knew I would if I had to give up sex. Now that I’d experienced it, I couldn’t imagine living without it.

  “You laugh now, Lauren. You won’t be laughing when I move my chair over right next to you at work and hump your leg!”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  She kicked off her shoes and stretched her feet out on the carpet with a sigh. Our spat was already a distant spot on the horizon, but I was still feeling conflicted.

  “Elizabeth? Can I ask for some advice?”

  She frowned. “If it’s about relationships, I’m not so sure that I’m the girl to ask.”

  I shook my head. “No, nothing like that. It’s just—if your mom was an addict and had ignored you for most of your life, but had suddenly gotten sober in the last few months and wanted to see you, would you do it?” The words came out in a rush and I could see her head practically spinning as she took it all in.

  It had been nagging at me since Monica had shown up in the parking lot, trying to pay me off. I didn’t owe her a thing, but a small part of me felt like I should still meet her.

  She mulled my words over. “Was she abusive to you?”

  “No—she was neglectful and well, she stole from me when she was using.” It was hard. Hearing the words out loud made it obvious that my answer to meeting her should’ve been a resounding no.

  “Yes—I think you should go and at least hear her out. No commitments, but just go in with an open mind.”

  What the hell?

  Given her frosty relationship with her own mother, I’d expected her to tell me that meeting with Monica was insanity. “Really?” I pushed. “Just meet with her?”

  She shrugged, “I mean, I wouldn’t go into it with any expectations, but what’s the harm?”

  I nodded brightly, while a war waged in my mind. The harm? Giving Monica any foothold into my life. The last time had cost me my car and knowing she was deep in a world of bikers had me concerned that the stakes would be much higher this time around.

  Two weeks later and I was still just as conflicted as I’d been that night at Elizabeth’s. I smoothed my skirt and picked apart my manicure while checking the front door at Perked Up every few seconds.

  The sick feeling of dread in my gut had been present since I woke up.

  So, she’d sobered up. Big deal. It didn’t mean we’d have anything in common. We’d both hit rock bottom, but in my mind, I was the only one who’d found a way to crawl out.

  The door dinged and my head jerked up involuntarily. It wasn’t her. Maybe she wasn’t coming. The woman who walked in slung her Louis Vuitton over her shoulder and scanned the menu easily. I studied her, trying to place where I’d seen her before.

  She turned as if she felt my gaze and took her sunglasses off. “You want something, Lauren?”

  Monica?

  My eyes went wide. “You? You don’t look like you!”

  Lauren, you can’t just tell people they don’t look like themselves.

  The barista gave me a strange look while Monica shrugged it off and paid for her latte. She set her purse down lovingly on the empty chair next to me before choosing the one across from me for herself. “Didn’t recognize me, did you?” She grinned and I was taken aback by her brilliantly white veneers.

  She hadn’t looked like that when I saw her at the hospital. In the bright light of day, I could’ve passed her on the street and never known it.

  My mouth still agape, I shook my head. “How? When? How?”

  She picked up her own coffee, mimicking my stance. “I— I met Torch and he helped me get clean. I had hit my absolute rock bottom when he stepped in. One thing led to another, and well, here I am. Clean and sober for the first time in a long time.”

  I picked up my coffee cup just to give my hands something to do. I found that her response left me with more questions than answers—how had a biker helped her get clean? Weren’t they all balls deep in that shit?

  Balls deep?

  Oh, Jesus. I was starting to think like Mike.

  I was happy for her, but I was also bitter. So, she'd sober up for some biker, but not her own daughter. I began picking off more of my nail polish and she placed her hand on mine, stopping me. “Don't do that. Remember, a lady’s nails—”

  “Say a lot about who she is,” I finished, surprised that I still remembered. In the brief periods where Monica would sober up long enough to remember that she had a daughter, she’d insist upon manicures. We could’ve been living on pork and beans for the week prior, but she’d always managed to find a way for us to get our nails done.

  Subconsciously, even though I was notorious for picking the polish off within a matter of days, I’d carried that mantra into adulthood. And that was when I looked at Monica—really looked at her. I didn't need a drug test to confirm anything, it was obvious that she was telling the truth. “So, you really did it. Congratulations.”

  What else was there to say?

  Apparently, Torch had some magic touch that I’d never possessed.

  She reached for my hand again. “I was horrible to you, Lauren.” She paused as her eyes filled and then took a deep breath before continuing, “Addiction brings out the worst in a person. My god—you raised yourself. I know there’s nothing I can do to make up for that, and it’s unfair of me to ask this of you, but I’d like to try and rebuild our relationship.”

  And there it was. I’d come prepared, knowing it was likely that Monica wanted something. Her request took me by surprise though. I didn’t know what to say- I’d spent the majority of my childhood, hoping that she would sober up and be the mother I needed her to be and now that she wanted to try, I was completely stumped.

  Realizing that it was doing nothing to calm my anxiety, I set my coffee cup down on the small table and said, “Monica, I don’t know that we can have the typical mother/daughter relationship. There’s just been too much.”

  “I never expected it to be normal. Look at us. I grew up with addicts for parents and turned into one myself. You took the lemons that life gave you and made fucking lemonade.”

  Several heads turned in our direction and she lowered her voice, “I don’t deserve it, but I’d like another chance. I’m not going to sit here and blame it on addiction or tell you t
hat I did the best I could, because it’s obvious I didn’t.”

  My eyes stung and I was painfully aware of just how many people surrounded us. It was too public. I’d thought being here would be safer, but all it had done was expose more people to our drama. I shifted in my chair. “I don’t know if this is the best place to have this conversation—”

  She looked down at the table and I watched as tears fell in a steady stream. “I never told you this, but my parents lost custody of me pretty early on. I was shuffled around in foster care. Some homes were good and some were pretty fucking terrible.” Her hands began shaking and without thinking I reached across and placed them in mine.

  Monica took a deep breath, “The last home I was in fostered five other teens. I’d gone into it thinking that they were some very generous people with big hearts, but it wasn’t long before I realized that they did it for the state check. The— um—the husband was always touchy-feely, but I tried to tell myself he was just an affectionate pers—” Her words cut off in a sob and I realized where the conversation was headed. The sickness I’d felt in the pit of my stomach seemed to intensify as she forced herself to continue.

  “He started coming into the bedroom I shared with another girl at night and forcing us to do things—said he’d throw us out if we told anyone. When I got pregnant at sixteen, I tried to explain myself to his wife, but she called me a whore and threw me out. I’m not going to sit here and lie to you, I considered having an abortion, but had no money.”

  “Excuse me,” I said weakly as I fled from the table and into the bathroom, where my body purged the coffee and muffin I’d just consumed.

  I’d been the product of rape.

  Monica was waiting outside the stall when I opened the door. Her eyes were bright with tears that had yet to be shed, while her face was streaked from the ones that had managed to escape. She dampened a paper towel and pressed it to my forehead. “Laur—I’m so sorry. I wanted to finish. I found a home for unwed mothers and they took me in, no questions asked. I told myself that I was going to do right by you and I fucked up. The first time they took you and put you into foster care, I quit using, cold turkey. I had this vision of what happened to me happening to you and I knew I couldn’t live with myself if it did. I also tried to make sure that I never brought men around you—I’m sure all this means jack shit to you right now, but you deserve the truth.”