Love Tap

by M. N. Forgy

  He palms my wrist, his eyes pinning me where I lay. I want to stay like this forever. I can’t find it in me to move even if I wanted to anyway.

  The train hollers out again as a light comes into view from down the track.

  Blinking myself from my sexual daze I push myself up, and Camden sits up.

  Camden clears his throat, and smooths my shirt down. Our eyes flick to one another, before darting anywhere but. The awkward tension settling back in.

  Stumbling on the fucking root again I make my way over the track into my backyard. My body is on fire, and the desire pulsing between my thighs is demanding to being tended to or a cold shower.

  Parting the tree branches I head back to the house, leaving Camden behind.

  I find Journey setting the table looking over the dinner she made proudly.

  “Still going to try for a family dinner?” I ask, gripping the back of a dining room chair and pulling it out to sit in. I want this family back together just as much as she does, but I think it’s going to take time.

  “Yes, I won’t give up that easily,” she replies, as she sets a fourth plate.

  “You set too many plates.” I jut my chin at the plate she just placed.

  “No I didn’t, there’s four.” She points at each one as she counts them.

  “Exactly, there’s three of us. How much pot have you been smoking?”

  She casually shrugs. “I invited someone else.”

  “Babe, you’re out of TP in the bathroom,” an unfamiliar voice sounds from behind me. Glancing over my shoulder I find the guy that was outside our house weeks ago, when Journey had a bloody nose. Scotty. He has on a blue ball cap that sits backwards. A black tank top and baggy dark jeans. Tattoos running up and down his arms.

  “You!” I seethe. I can’t believe she invited that tool for dinner! I thought she was getting tired of his games and was finally coming to light that he was a scumbag.

  “What the fuck’s your problem?” he sneers at me, his lip curled. My heart thunders in my chest from his stance, tone, and just his fucking presence.

  “You’re my problem!” Shoving off the chair I ball my fists and march toward him. All the confusion and anger rolling through me I’m more than ready to start a fight. The muscles in his shoulders tense, and he lifts his chin as I near.

  “Wait!” Journey jumps between us. Her hands outstretched like a referee. “Please, I brought him over to make peace. He’s not a bad guy Tate.”

  “He hit you, of course he’s a bad guy.” I laugh dishearteningly.

  “Yo, babe, you better do something about this disrespect,” he orders, pointing at me like a thug.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I take another step forward ready to jab this asshole in the face.

  “What the hell is going on out here?” Dad steps out of his room. Dad’s eyes light up before contorting into anger when he sets sight on Scotty. “Why are you here?”

  “Journey said she was getting her family together for dinner, I told her I was her family.” He points at himself. “I should be here!” Scotty informs. I can’t help the look of surprise on my face. This guy is a one of a kind stupid.

  “You are not her family. Leave, or I’m calling the cops,” Dad threatens.

  Scotty turns, and cracks his knuckles in a threatening manner.

  “Oh, you think you’re going to call the cops old man?”

  Scotty steps toward Dad, and Journey jumps in front of him. “Stop!” He pushes her to the ground as if he’s swatting a fly.

  I fall to Journey’s side, helping her up.

  “Scotty wait!” Journey tries to run interference again but she’s too small compared to Scotty.

  Dad balls his fists as Scotty comes at him, but before he can react Scotty punches my dad right in the chest.

  “You motherfucker!” I scream frantically.

  Quickly I jump on Scotty’s back, and drive my fist into the side of his face repeatedly. The sores in my knuckles splitting painfully.

  “Stupid bitch!” He throws me from his shoulder, causing me to slam into the wall and fall next to Dad. My shoulder blade blooms with pain, spreading down my back.

  Dad makes a sound I’ve never heard before catching my attention from my own pain.

  He grips his left shoulder, his eyes wide with fear and pain.

  “Dad?”

  He pins me with wide eyes, as he clutches his chest. My heart sinks as fear takes root. He’s having a heart attack!

  “Journey, call an ambulance!”

  “Teaches you right, old man.” Scotty slides a plate off the table, it landing on the floor with a loud crack. Journey doesn’t move from her spot after calling 911 as she stares at Dad and sobs.

  “Dad, tell me what to do, what can I do?” I ask, my hands trembling with the amount of adrenaline racing through them. I shift on my knees, trying to get a better look at him.

  “Go…Get…That…Fucker,” Dad grits out with pain.

  “I’m not leaving you,” I reaffirm.

  “Go!” His eyes pin mine, and something familiar flashes through them. Something I haven’t seen in a long time. My dad is finally fighting back. He wants me to fight.

  “Go Tate! I will watch him until the ambulance gets here,” Journey offers. Swallowing hard, I nod and jump to my feet.

  “Don’t you leave his side!” I point at Journey. She slides to the floor, sitting right next to him.

  Turning I run after Scotty. Nobody touches my family. I’m going to kill that asshole.

  Throwing the door open, I find him striding toward his car like he’s taking a stroll in the park.

  “Hey!” I step out onto the porch, my head lowered and eyes hooded with rage. I swear I can hear the latch to my cage unlocking, because a rush of adrenaline like I’ve never felt before pounds through my veins. It feels good, it’s a rush I crave.

  Scotty stops, and slowly turns. An arrogant smirk across his face.

  “Yeah?” He grins, and for the love of God I want to kick his teeth in.

  “That is the last time you hit anyone in my family.” Lowering my head, an evil smile crosses my face as I welcome the old Tate back.

  He balls his fists and cracks his neck.

  This is going to hurt, and I’m more than ready for the challenge.

  Camden

  A commotion next door grabs my attention. There’s yelling and cursing, all coming from Tate’s house. Setting my dinner aside I peek through the curtains and find two people in Tate’s front yard. It’s so dark I can’t make out what is going on, but it doesn’t look good.

  Turning the porch light on, I step outside and the unmistakable sound of a fist connecting with bone being heard and a rush of energy surges through me.

  Moving quick off the porch steps, I head into the Davis’ yard, and my heart stops. A big motherfucker has Tate pinned to the ground, and is trying to secure her hands above her head. My eyes widen and mouth parts as I start that way, ready to end the life of whoever is on top of her.

  Her wrists being so tiny, she slips through and punches the guy in the face so hard he falters.

  Like a match igniting gasoline I sprint forward. The need to protect Tate my only thought, bad blood between us is history. Nobody touches her but me.

  He thrusts his fist right into Tate’s face, and she cries with pain as her head whips to the side. I grit my teeth, my fists curled so tight my knuckles turn white. Before he can deliver another hit, I tackle him off her. Rolling along the grass, tangled in arms and limbs, I find he’s bigger than I thought. He’s done this before, but he’s sloppy. A street fighter at best. I wrap my arm around his neck, and wrap my leg around his body, securing him to the ground. He grunts as I tighten my hold around his neck, limiting his oxygen. His attempt to escape weakens as he begins to lose consciousness, so I let go. He coughs out a sickly sound as he falls to his knees, rubbing his throat.

  Taking my training to a whole other level, from professional to personal, I strike him in
the face with my foot, throwing him backwards. His teeth clatter, and blood sprays along my bare foot.

  He stays down this time, cupping his face in agony. My chest rises and falls as I pace the wet grass. I point at him, but before I can speak my threat, out of nowhere, Tate straddles the guy, her legs on each side of his body, leaning down she punches him in the mouth.

  “Tate!” Grabbing onto her shoulders, I pull her off the groaning guy. She tries to fight my hold on her, desperately wanting to attack the asshole again. Shoving her back a few steps I yell, “Go!” and point toward her house. “I got this!”

  She stands tall, her face serious. I can’t lie, I’m getting a hard on at seeing her so undone. She’s furious, reminding me of a Tate I once knew. I warm as feelings I’ve tried to keep at bay coming forward at once.

  Not paying attention, a fist swings past my face from behind almost hitting Tate. Not getting the hint that he doesn’t mess with what’s mine.

  “You wanna fight like a man, but you’re about to lose like a bitch!” I seethe.

  Gritting my teeth I elbow check the fucker in the face, and he falls on his ass. My vision goes red, and my chest aches with a pain so fierce the only way to relieve it is to deliver it.

  Stepping over the guy, my legs straddle him. Pulling him up by his hair I force him to look me in the eyes.

  “Nobody touches what’s mine, do you hear me?” My voice comes out calm, but serious.

  “That hippie bitch ain’t worth all this anyway,” he mumbles, shaking his head as he comes around.

  “Good, leave and don’t come back. If you do, you will be rolling back to your homeboys in a wheelchair. Do you understand?”

  He smiles in response, before spitting blood in my face.

  My nostrils flare as I wipe the blood from my face with my free hand.

  Having been done with his bullshit, I head butt him and he conks out.

  My head pounds from the impact, causing me to blink a few times to catch my bearings. Sirens sound from up the block, catching my attention.

  “Camden go!” Looking behind me Tate is standing on the steps, a look of worry wrinkling her face. “Go, if they find you here you’ll be all over the news.”

  Her care isn’t lost on me. Maybe she really does feel like shit for what happened between us. I look down at the unconscious man, and he groans. He could come to and severely hurt Tate or someone else.

  “I don’t care, I’m not leaving.” I rub at my sore forehead, staring her in the eyes.

  So many unspoken things are said between our silent stare. I try to fight it, try to keep hold of the resentment toward her.

  “I care, Camden. Go, if anyone catches wind that you were here this will blow up and become twisted in so many ways,” she continues, and the anger I was trying to hang on to... vanishes. I clench my eyes shut, mentally cursing myself.

  Opening my eyes I glare at the guy who probably has a concussion. Maybe I shouldn’t stay. If I’m here when the cops show up this could be bad not only for me, but for Tate and her family. I have seen articles get so twisted and far from the truth that it’s just not right. I can’t do that to Tate and her family.

  “Fine,” I whisper reluctantly. Getting some space from Tate is probably for the best anyhow.

  Stepping over the unconscious asshole, I race toward my house covered in blood and bruises.

  Chapter Twelve

  17 Years Old

  Tate

  “I don’t think this is a good idea Camden.” Biting my nails I eye the green T-bird.

  “Babe, how are you ever going to learn if you don’t try?” Camden opens the driver side door with a lazy grin spreading across his face. His blond hair is long and falling in his eyes effortlessly. Seriously, how did I get so lucky to land the ruggedly good-looking Camden Steel? Of course I don’t ask him that, his ego is big enough. I’ve had my permit for a while now, but with Mom’s death I just didn’t ever get around to getting my license. Camden has been up my ass about getting it.

  “What if I wreck it?” I worry.

  “Then you’ve added some character to it,” he laughs.

  Knowing I’m not going to get out of this, I slide behind the wheel. The seats are clothed and soft, and the steering wheel is worn from previous drivers. It took Camden years of saving to get a car. He’s worked at a mechanic shop learning how to fix cars, and has saved every paycheck.

  Turning the key in the ignition it starts with a clank.

  “Now, just pull out and drive around the block some,” Camden suggests, climbing to the passenger seat.

  Looking in the rearview mirror, I pull out slowly. The car bouncing when I hit the curb.

  “Shit!” I hiss.

  “It’s fine, I hit that curb all the time,” he lies, trying to make me feel better.

  Putting the car in drive, I slowly head down our street.

  “Turn left.” Camden points toward the main street.

  “You sure?”

  “You got this babe.” He grabs my thigh, giving it a squeeze. Butterflies fill my stomach having his palm on my bare skin.

  “You have to move your hand, I can’t concentrate.” He laughs arrogantly, and moves it.

  “Did any colleges write you back? I know you said your dad was having you fill some applications out.” Looking at him I grimace, not really wanting to talk about it. It’s a sore subject for everyone involved. “Yeah, I got a couple offers, Dad wants me to take the one in LA.”

  “LA?! You’ll be so far away Tate.”

  “I know, but it’s supposed to be the best school. Dad thinks if I’m going to have any chance at a normal college experience I should go there,” I explain, my focus completely off the road. My chest literally aches that I may be leaving, but I know it’s for my best interest. What hurts the most is that Camden can’t come with me. He has so much going for him here that if he follows me, he’ll give it all up. A selfish part of me doesn’t care though and just wants him to be there with me the whole way. He’s more than my boyfriend, he’s my best friend.

  A horn honks, and I swerve trying to miss it, placing me on an off ramp.

  “Baby, turn around!” Camden’s voice is frantic, causing my heart to accelerate.

  “I can’t turn around!”

  “Pull over!”

  “I can’t, there’s nowhere to pull over!” My eyes fill with fearful tears as I look out my side mirrors.

  “Ok, ok, turn your turn signal on and get over easily,” Camden instructs, looking all around us.

  Flipping the turn signal on, I get over onto the highway, and a big truck blows it’s horn making me scream and let go of the wheel. My heart is beating so hard against my chest I feel like I may pass out.

  “Don’t let go of the wheel!” Camden grabs ahold of the wheel.

  Quickly, I grab it from him and jerk it, causing us to swerve off the highway and onto the grass.

  My chest is heaving in panic, tears streaming down my face.

  Camden is gripping the dashboard, his face pale as he stares at the windshield.

  “I don’t want to go,” I cry, as a tear slips across my mouth. The panic in my chest not really coming from the almost car wreck, but the wreck happening inside of me right now. The one I’ve been holding in.

  Camden looks my way, his face softening.

  “Dad is making me, said I need to get away from this town and make something of myself. It’s what Mom would have wanted.” Camden scoots over, and wraps his arms around me.

  “You don’t have to go Tate.”

  “I do, and he’s right, she would have wanted me to go.” I sob onto his shoulder, and my heart literally breaks right there on the side of the highway.

  He pulls back and searches my face. “How do you know that is what she would want, she’s gone.”

  I shake my head, and sniffle. “Mom set aside a savings for my education Dad said.” I shrug, and he wipes a tear slipping down my cheek. “Who knows maybe I’ll like it ya know?” I’m tr
ying to convince myself, because I know I’ll hate it.

  “I’m going with you,” he whispers, and my eyes widen.

  “No, you can’t. You have your first fight coming up, and sponsors that you were told were sure to sign you. You can’t leave.” My voice rises, my hands grasping his harder than I expected.

  “Ok, ok, calm down,” he grabs my face, trying to calm me. I take a deep breath, locking my emotions up tight. This is going to hurt so bad.

  His brows furrow, as he pulls me close. I close my eyes, and inhale him in. Our time together is literally ticking away.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tate

  Sitting in the waiting room, Journey eyes me from across the room.

  “What?” I can’t help the venom dripping from my voice. I can’t believe she brought that punk to dinner. If she would have just listened to me the first time, and stayed away from Scotty, this would have never happened.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbles under her breath. She looks down, her blonde hair shielding her face.

  Sitting forward, I rest my elbows on my knees. My anger dissolving instantly, I hate how she makes me feel like a jerk so easily.

  “Don’t be sorry, just… tell me you’re done with that prick,” I sigh.

  Her head jerks up. “Oh, I am so done,” she chokes with emotion. Her eyes filling with tears.

  Nodding I rub at my left eye, the one Scotty managed to hit, it hurts.

  “I’ve been hearing stories that you’re out of control, Journey. How many guys have you been with?”

  She crosses her arms, giving me a sideways glance. I feel like her mother, but if Dad isn’t going to dive into her personal life to sort out the crap, then that leaves me.

  “How long has it been going on for?” I continue.

  She shrugs, looking down at the floor. “Since before you left.”

  I hang my head in my hands. “I never should have left.”

  Journey scoffs, her feet coming into view as I look at the floor. She sits next to me, shoves my shoulder.

  “Stop. You and I both know you couldn’t have stayed even if you wanted to. Dad had it in his head that if you went to college that it would somehow make up for his lack of parenting while he was away at fights.”