Untamed

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Untamed Page 32

by S. C. Stephens


  She made it sound so easy, but I knew it wasn’t. Just the thought of picking up the phone and telling the guys I was wrong…about everything…made me feel sick. And Anna…I didn’t even know where to begin with her. How could I do this? I wasn’t even sure I had the necessary skills to be all repentant and shit. “How do I do that?” I murmured, feeling defeated. I was really beginning to hate feeling that way.

  I’d moved my head so I wasn’t looking into her eyes anymore, but she moved hers until I had no choice but to meet her gaze. “You take that pride that you hold on to so hard, and you shove it down a deep, dark hole. You show them something real. Be human. Be fallible. Be flexible. Be humble.”

  None of that sounded easy. Or like me. I tended to be the opposite of all those things. It was simpler to be an awesome god who could do no wrong. Because…admitting I was wrong…was complete and utter torture. I didn’t think I could do it. “So…you want me to be lame, is what you’re saying?”

  Smiling, she clapped me on the back. “That’s entirely optional, but it might help.”

  A small chuckle escaped me, and it felt good to release it. I felt like I hadn’t laughed in years. And, if I were honest, it had been a while. I don’t think I’d let out an honest laugh since I’d parted ways with the band. That’s when everything had gone downhill for me, and now I was so far down, it was hard to see my way back up.

  “Thank you,” I told her. “For everything. I think you’re the only one who gives a shit.”

  Chelsey rubbed my back. “No, more people care about you than you think. But…it’s like your ego is a force field…it pushes people back, instead of letting them in. You’d see the world differently if you opened yourself up to the possibility that…”

  She bit her lip while she stared at me, and I saw a grin growing in the gesture. “That what?” I asked, knowing whatever her answer was, it was going to be smart-assed.

  She released her lip and the smile broke free. “That you’re an imperfect person…just like the rest of us.”

  Six months ago I would have wholeheartedly denied that, but now…“Yeah…I know. Brat.” I bumped her shoulder, and laughing, she wrapped her arms around me and squeezed.

  “I love you, Griffin, and I know everything is going to be okay.”

  Closing my eyes, I prayed she was right.

  Chapter 21

  Reality

  I was woken up Monday morning by a buzzer going off in my ear, and I decided right then and there that that was not a dignified way for a human being to be roused from sleep. If I ever had the opportunity, I would hunt down the sick son of a bitch who had invented the damn thing and drive a couple of spikes through his forehead. How does that feel, fucker?

  Shucking off my covers, I painstakingly rose to my feet. God, I hated mornings. There was no good reason for them. My body felt tight, my head was throbbing, and my knees cracked when I stood up. Man, I was getting old. Either that or my body was rebelling against the time. The time, and the task that I was about to do.

  I was starting at Dad’s old factory today. Yippee. The money would help me make payments to the bank though, and at the moment, that was more important than the potential suckage of this monotonous job.

  Nobody was awake when I stumbled into the kitchen. I thought my parents would be up to see me off, but no, I could hear Dad snoring in his room. In the kitchen, I found a note attached to a small paper bag, the kind I’d used as a kid to take my lunch to school. The note said, “Good luck,” and inside was a ham sandwich, a bag of chips, an apple, and two chocolate chip cookies. Damn. Now I felt like I was eight again.

  “Thanks, Mom,” I muttered, grabbing one of the cookies. I popped it in my mouth while I debated adding a beer to my lunch. It was a factory, surely adult pop was allowed if you were on break.

  Thinking better of it, I closed up the bag and looked around for my dad’s car keys. He’d told me I could take the minivan to work until I could afford a car of my own. That was a good thing, since biking that far every day would have seriously sucked. It also filled me with an empty hollowness to think of how long I was going to have to be there to afford a car, get my own place…get my shit together. And before I could even think of doing any of that, I needed to make sure Anna and the girls were being taken care of. It was all so surreal. Not that long ago, the money was flowing in so fast, I never even had to think about it. Now I cherished every dime. How had so much changed in such a short amount of time?

  When I went outside to start the car, it was still sort of dark outside; even the sun wasn’t fully up yet. Awesome. As I listened to some animal chirping away in the distance, I considered getting in the car and driving back to Seattle. Would that be running away or running home? I had no idea, but I knew it wouldn’t solve my immediate money problems, so I scrapped the idea.

  When I got to work, I instantly realized I wouldn’t get through this with any of my dignity still intact. “Okay, grunt, you listening, ’cause I don’t want to have to explain this twice.” I nodded so my “instructor” would get on with the mindless orientation. “You take this wrench, and when this piece comes down your line, you insert ten bolts in these ten holes, then tighten them. You send that piece on its merry way, then start on the next one. Sound like something you can handle, newbie?”

  I gave him a blank stare. “Putting in ten bolts and tightening them? Yeah, I think I can manage that.”

  He clapped me on the back so hard, I stumbled forward a little. “Great. Don’t mess up the rest of production by being a slow ass. Break is at eleven sharp. Try not to nod off.”

  With that, he left me to my menial task. I’ll admit, the first piece was a challenge, and I let out some sailor-worthy curses, especially when I pinched my finger and started bleeding, but by my seven millionth bolt, I could have done it with my eyes closed.

  My mind wandered while I worked. I pictured myself onstage at Pete’s, the guys beside me and a horde of adoring fans in front of me. Remembering that time made an ache expand inside my chest. It was painful, and I wanted to think of something else to get rid of it, but I apparently wasn’t done torturing myself, because my mind wouldn’t let go of the memory of hopping offstage.

  Matt squeezed my shoulder and told me I’d done awesome. Evan gave me a thumbs-up before wrapping Jenny in a hug, and Kellan gave me a bright smile and asked if I wanted a beer. It felt like a million years ago, and yet, at the same time, it seemed like only yesterday.

  With nothing to do with my mind during work, I had daydream upon daydream during my shift. A lot of them were centered on the band, but even more were about my wife. Her eyes filled my mind, her laugh filled my ears, and her body…well, let’s just say it was a good thing the work table was hiding everything below my waist.

  I kept picturing moments we’d had together. Our first kiss, dancing in the middle of my old living room. Then pulling her into my bedroom and stripping her bare. Her body had blown my mind. She was everything I loved in a woman, wrapped up in one perfect person. And she was just as dirty as me. She was game for anything I wanted to try, anything I wanted to do. She was exactly what I’d wanted in a partner…and I’d let her leave. As the day wore on, it got harder and harder to remember just why I’d done that. Anna was the right girl for me. She was the only girl for me. Then why are you still here?

  By the end of my shift, I wasn’t sure what hurt worse, my head or my hands. They were so raw, it was hard to hold the steering wheel on the drive home; even my blisters had blisters. After the noise from the factory all day, the anticipation of the chaos waiting for me at my parents’ busy house was almost intolerable. Dustin was finally home, and we were all celebrating. I was happy for my sister, but I really wasn’t in a partying mood. My feet felt like lead weights, my arms felt like rubber, and my heart…well, that was just fucked.

  When I stepped into the house, I cringed at the noise. Kids were running, screaming, and banging pots and pans together. Adults were laughing, barking at the kids, and
telling stories at about five times the necessary volume. The chaos of my family used to never bother me, but at the moment, it was hell. Pure, life-sucking hell. It made me miss my quiet foursome all the more.

  I was dirty, smelly, and mentally drained, so I darted to my room before anyone could stop me.

  My mom bellowed at me when dinner was done, and I knew by her tone that I had better sit down with the family. Hiding out the entire night in my room was not an option. Used to large gatherings, Mom had the longest table known to man in her dining room. It still wasn’t big enough for all of us though, and a couple of folding tables were set up for the kids. It was like Thanksgiving on crack.

  After helping Mom set the table, because not helping wasn’t an option either, I took a spot next to Dustin and mumbled a polite greeting. Chelsey was on his other side, beaming up at him like he was the center of her universe, and maybe he was. She certainly hadn’t looked this at peace while he’d been gone. It made me think of my own universe and how a huge piece of it was missing.

  Mom set down heaping bowls of cut tomatoes, avocados, olives, onions, and lettuce. Then she brought out about five pounds of ground beef and enough tortillas to tile the entire house…and I didn’t want any of it. Eating sounded about as appealing as licking the toilet seat. After Liam had used it.

  I made a plate, ’cause I knew Mom would flip a lid if I didn’t, but as the rest of my family dug into their tacos, I only nibbled on a piece of lettuce. Everyone asked Dustin about his time away, which allowed me to sit and stew in silence. I didn’t want them to ask about my first day. I didn’t want to think about my first day. Or my second, third, fourth…

  Luck wasn’t with me though. As soon as Dustin had a break in recounting his heroics, he asked me, “So, Griffin, Chesley tells me you changed jobs, and today was your first day. How was it? Anybody recognize you from the band? Ask for a signature?”

  By the look on his face, I knew he sincerely meant that. He didn’t realize the way people saw me now. The way the general public saw me. I didn’t want to tell him either. It was embarrassing to admit that I had been recognized…and laughed at.

  Admitting the truth wasn’t an option, but my lie kind of sucked too, just for a different reason. “No…nobody recognized me.”

  Dustin seemed as disheartened to hear that as I was to say it. “Oh, well…that’s probably for the best anyway.” He gave me an award-worthy smile. “Knowing a celebrity was in their midst would be distracting.”

  My smile was brief. Yeah…distracting.

  Dustin seemed about to ask me more, but luckily Liam asked him a technical question about fighter jets. Dustin hadn’t worked on or around planes, but I guess Liam just assumed he’d be an expert on them since he was in the military. Jackass.

  While Dustin told him the tidbits he did know, I zoned out. My gaze returned to Chelsey as she watched her husband and ate her taco. She looked so satisfied just staring at him. It made me wonder if all Anna and I’d had was physical. Was Anna happy with me when it came to the nonsexual side of our relationship? I wanted to believe she was, but I really wasn’t sure. She must not have been if she left. And you must not have been if you let her leave.

  Pushing that nagging thought from my brain, I rewound to a simpler time…a time when we’d been happy, with no cares in the world. It had been back when we were just fooling around—fuck buddies. The best of both worlds. Not really, but that was what I’d been telling myself at the time.

  We’d just left a restaurant in Seattle and were walking back to the car. When I’d parked us down by the pier, we hadn’t been sure where we wanted to eat, and we’d wandered almost a dozen blocks to find this little hole-in-the-wall Irish pub with great beer and awesome food.

  Stuff like that happened a lot with Anna. We’d play it by ear, go where the wind took us, and wind up having an amazing night. But after leaving the pub, we were both too stuffed to make the long trip back to my car. We hadn’t been sure what to do when I’d suddenly spotted the answer.

  “Let’s take a horse carriage ride.” I pointed in front of us to where a white stallion was hooked up to a carriage lined with red roses. It was a pretty romantic setup, but at the time, I’d just wanted to get off my feet for a while.

  “But that won’t get us any closer to the car. It goes in a circle.”

  Nodding, I started pulling her toward the carriage. “Yeah, it will get us a little closer if we bail halfway through…and if we don’t, we’ll at least get to work on these food babies.” I grabbed my stomach with my free hand and Anna laughed. God, I loved that sound.

  “Sounds good. Let’s do it!” Her eyes had shone in that adventurous way she had, and I’d known right then and there that this girl would be my undoing. Gorgeous, sexy, horny, and ready to have a good time at the drop of a hat…she was pretty much me with boobs.

  When the carriage driver told me how much the ride was, I’d almost reconsidered, but Anna had been cooing at the horse and making kissy faces; I paid him without a second thought. Holding a hand out for her, I helped her into the carriage. It smelled, but Anna was smiling so much, I hadn’t cared. We could have been sitting in the middle of a sewage treatment plant and I would have been happy. And turned on. The curve of her sultry lips went straight to my libido.

  The driver flicked the reins, and the horse began its pointless journey. With the distinctive clip-clop of its hooves against the road as our background music, Anna and I leaned back in the seat and relaxed. Pulling her tight to my side, I’d tried to ignore the emotion swelling in my chest. It was just a by-product of the surroundings. I wasn’t developing feelings for her. She was a great lay—no, an amazing lay—one I wanted to experience over and over again, one who made every other girl seem like a floundering virgin…but that was all she was to me. Sex.

  God, I’d been such a fucking idiot.

  Looking back on the moment now, it was easy to label the emotion that had begun to bubble that night. I’d been falling in love with her, and I would have done anything to avoid admitting that. It was so cliché, overused, and…mainstream. I hated the word on principle. Even now, I never…

  I stared at my plate as empty realization hit me. I never tell her I love her. She’d even called me on it, and I hadn’t changed my pattern. Why was it so hard for me to say that word? To her. To my kids. To my family. To my band…Was I rebelling against something that didn’t need to be rebelled against? Maybe the word was overused…but maybe that was because it was the only word that accurately described how important someone was. Not saying it was like trying to pretend the sun didn’t exist by staying indoors all the time—ridiculous and futile. Even without acknowledging it, I’d still experienced it that night, and if I were honest, I’d experienced it every night after. I was experiencing it now, only now the feeling was laced with pain, because the girl of my dreams wasn’t sitting beside me in that carriage anymore. She was completely out of reach.

  We’d ended up staying in the carriage for the entire loop, and somewhere around the halfway point we’d started kissing. No girl I’d ever kissed before had felt like Anna. She had the softest lips…But I had kissed girls with soft lips before. With Anna, it was more than that. It was like her lips had been specifically molded for mine. Like we were yin and yang, broken apart and separated by thousands of miles. But we’d found each other again, and when our bodies met…it was fireworks.

  That night had been warm, her fingers stroking my stomach under my shirt had been invigorating, and the threads of her hair blowing across my face had been intoxicating. The night had been perfect. And when we’d finally made it back to my car, I’d driven her to her apartment and we’d fucked like bunnies. It had been just one of the many incredible evenings I’d had…with my best friend. My soul mate, if such a thing existed. And now…

  “You okay, Griffin? You haven’t eaten anything, and from what I remember of having meals with you, you were always the first one done. You were usually the one digging into dessert while
everyone else was only halfway through.” Dustin laughed, then smiled at me.

  I couldn’t even fake a smile in return, not after that memory. “Yeah…guess I’m just not hungry. Long day.” Pushing my plate away, I stood from the table. “Thanks for the meal, Mom. I just can’t eat.”

  After she nodded at me, I trudged to my room, closed the door, then sat on the bed.

  I’d never felt this defeated and depressed before, and I really didn’t have anyone to share it with. Chelsey was the one I felt most comfortable talking to, but now that Dustin was back…They’d been apart so long, I didn’t want to keep them apart even longer, not for my pathetic shit. And Chelsey wasn’t the one I really wanted to be talking to anyway. No, who I really wanted was my best friend.

  Pulling out my cell phone, I stared at it for twenty minutes. I’d really had a crap day, and hearing Anna’s voice right now sounded like a great reprieve. Assuming she had anything nice to say to me, that was. Eventually we had to talk about…us…right? Might as well get it over with. But what if her solution to this was to end it? What if she was happier without me? Or what if she just wanted some space, and me bugging her drove her over the edge? I had no fucking clue what I was supposed to do and what I wasn’t supposed to do. I was in completely foreign waters, and I was drowning.

  “Fuck it,” I muttered. Finding her number, I hit the send button. Restraint was never one of my strong points anyway.

  When she answered my call, I opened my mouth to speak. I shut it instantly when I recognized her voicemail prompt. I debated leaving a message, but then decided not to. If she was ignoring me, then she wouldn’t get to listen to what I had to say. Stubborn, sure, but she’d have to answer if she wanted to hear me.

 

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