“I will, baby doll. Good night.”
She remembered scrambling back to her room for fear of being caught listening at her siblings’ door while her stepfather spewed his lies.
. . .
“Trista, what are you doin’ out here? Daddy’s blisterin’ mad lookin’ all over the place for you. Your dress is all wet. Are you crying? What’s a matter, Tris?”
She saw beautiful little Lily, completely unaware of the torture her big sister kept hidden.
“Shh, Lily. I don’t want to talk about it right now. Please promise me you won’t tell Daddy where you found me. Okay? Promise?” She pinned her down with a stern yet pleading look.
“Okay, I promise. But you better get home.”
“Lily, swear you won’t tell him?” They were older now, but still children and she had hoped her little sister would keep the promise. It had been a lot to ask of a nine-year-old.
“I swear, Trista, on Momma’s grave, I swear.” She remembered Lily criss-crossing an x-pattern over her heart. It was the last fond memory she had of her little sister.
Lily knew nothing of the man she called Daddy. But for this, Trista was and always had been grateful.
. . .
“Frederick Elstone, this will be the last time you ever see that girl. You hear me? You should be locked in jail and have the key thrown away, at the very least. If I could, I’d take Lily and Jack, too. You know I would, you filthy, sick man. I don’t know what Jeanette ever saw in you. Now get out of my way or I’ll have the cops back here quicker than pigs on grits.”
The strong, rapturous voice of Gramma was a lifeline she held onto as she waded through the thickness of these memories.
. . .
Stumbling forth in time, she had finally reached a place of security.
“Trista Jeane, Trista Jeane? Wake up, hun. We’re here. You need to get your studyin’ done and then help me with settin’ up. You take the soda fountain and I’ll heat up the grills.” Gramma was already bustling around though she hadn’t actually left the truck yet. She tried desperately to hold onto this place.
“Yes, ma’am. Gramma, where are we?”
“Fort Smith, dear.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Don’t you worry, sweet pea. I promised you we’d never make any stops in Duketown and I meant it. Your gramma doesn’t make a promise she won’t keep.” True to her word, Gramma had never pulled their travelling diner anywhere near the town, and they rarely ever mentioned it by name.
“I love you, Gramma. Thank you.”
“All right now, we’ve got a busy night ahead of us so let’s get this diner set up. Lessons first though.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
. . .
She recalled the bittersweet way her gramma’s face shone with both pride and fear as she left her childhood to the past.
“Sweet pea, I can’t believe you’re leavin’ already. You sure this is what you want?”
“Yes, Gramma. I’m sure. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. My dorm is on campus, and my roommate sounds nice from what I’ve read.” She remembered herself at sixteen, her fighting spirit, the confidence she shouldn’t have had as a kid with her past. However she had found it back then, she desperately needed it now.
“I know you can take care of yourself, Trista Jeane. It’s just so far away. I’m gonna miss you, sweet pea.”
“Will you be okay, Gramma? With the trailer and the diner?”
“Oh now Trista Jeane, don’t you even think about that. I’ve been runnin’ that thing since before your father was born. I’ll be just fine. You ready to make me a promise?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You go out there to that college and you make me proud. Don’t let anyone take you away from followin’ your dreams. You hear me?” Is that what had happened? Had she been so mistaken as to think that she’d been keeping her promise to her gramma this whole time? She wasn’t living anyone’s dream; this was a nightmare and she was trapped. She had to search for the right path, or she’d never find her way out.
“Yes, ma’am, I promise.”
“All right. Your bus is here. I love you, Trista Jeane.”
“Me too, Gramma.”
. . .
“Hey young lady, the name’s Vance. I’m the band’s manager. Listen, you got someone out here that knows something about getting our system to cooperate with your stage set up? My guys are having some issues, they could use some help.”
Her thoughts had finally caught up to meeting Jaxon and the band for the first time. She teetered on the happiness and hope of those days.
“Yes, sir. My name’s Trista. I think I might be able to help.”
“All of what? Fourteen? And you’re gonna be able to help?” He smiled so wide she could tell he’d gone from a polite older man inquiring for some help to pure amusement.
“Sixteen, sir, and yes, I think so. I work here, helping set up the electronics for the shows.”
“Really? Aren’t you a bit young to be working here? Shouldn’t you be in class?” She saw the way he crossed his arms over his chest, still not believing her.
“Yes, sir, well I am a student, a freshman. This is my work study job for the summer.” A touch of pride heaved in her chest. She wanted to be believed by this stranger. If he’d give her a chance, he’d see what all she was capable of.
“Well, all right then, Miss Trista; let’s see what you can do. And let’s hope it’s something good or else we’re gonna have a lot of angry co-eds to contend with.”
Remember what you’re capable of, Tris. Don’t give up on yourself…the thoughts couldn’t keep manifesting then disappearing. She needed something concrete.
. . .
Even in her slow motion mind, she realized Jaxon’s fate and hers were tied to each other and had been for a long time.
“Jaxon James, meet Trista Hart. She’s the reason the show went on tonight, so be nice.” Vance patted her hand that rested in the crook of his elbow as he introduced the two, the doubtful smirk he’d held earlier now gone.
“Hello, Trissy. Nice to meet you and I guess thanks are in order.” The devilishly handsome face smiled shyly.
“Yes, well it was really interesting.” Her teenage awkwardness threatened to knock back the budding confidence she’d been searching for through all these memories.
“How so?”
“Um, I just never got to work on something so cool before. You guys were really good. I loved that song, “Play.”
“Yeah, that’s a goody. ‘I’ve got you how I need you. Don’t cry, don’t hide. I just want to play with your emotions for the night.’” Jaxon’s voice sang like an echo in the fog.
“Yes, that’s the one. I think I liked the music to it. The words, well, they kind of freaked me out a little.”
“You know what? I think I like you. You’re probably the first girl who’s said that to my face. Good on you.” She’d never felt intimidated in his presence. From the very beginning, Jaxon had somehow let her know she would always be okay with him. They might come up against some lumps and bumps, the lifestyle pretty much guaranteed it. But she’d always make it out.
We’ll always make it out…
“Are you from Australia?”
“Yes, ma’am. True blue. What about you, where you from?”
“Oh, um, Oklahoma, but I claim Tennessee mostly.” The instant camaraderie they’d struck up was evident in the ease with which she’d shared that information with him.
“You’re a little far from home kid, just like me.”
“Yeah, I guess so. Maybe we could be pen pals, or something.”
“You’re too cute. I’m gonna have to talk to Vance about you.” And he had. She never looked back after that summer she’d spent with the band.
. . .
“Jaxon, oh my God! What…what happened to you? You’re a mess.” One hand planted firmly on her hip and one raking through her hair, it had become her signature stance whenever finding Jaxon l
ike that.
“I’m sorry, Trissy. I’m sorry, I just came down here to unwind and they threw me out, jack holes. Like I was trash or something.”
“Well, you shouldn’t be out here. This is a bad area. Come on, get up and come with me. The car’s just over there. I can’t carry you, Jax. Come on, get up.”
“Do you love me, Trissy? ‘Cause I love you.”
“Jaxon, stop screwing around.”
“I’m not. I’m serious.”
He clung to her. She was the rescuer. She needed this strength now. But it was only a memory she was viewing.
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m out here in this disgusting alley, it’s past midnight and I’m standing in a puddle of urine and vomit. I’d say only love could explain that one. Or extreme idiocy.”
The memories were too similar to her current nightmare. She felt trapped in them now. Nearly out of brainwaves, she searched for a way out but couldn’t get past this.
“I’m sorry, Trissy. I’m sorry.” She would never forget the absolute vulnerability in the way his body deflated, slumping forward, rubbing his eyes with fisted palms.
“I know, Jax. Come on, let’s get you back to the hotel and cleaned up.”
“I won’t let this happen again. I promise.”
“Come on, let’s go.” She’d tried to tug on his jacket but it was slick with unknown moisture.
“You don’t believe me, do you? I’ve really fucked up, haven’t I?”
“I want to believe you, Jaxon. I really do.”
She wanted her voice. Her real and present voice to tell him this wasn’t his fault.
“Well, I’m gonna get better. You deserve a whole lot more of a friend than I’ve been lately.”
“Considering you know everything about me, I hope you mean that. I’d hate to ever lose you. You’re my best friend, Jaxon. I need you to get clean.”
“I know.”
* * * *
Trista hadn’t opened her eyes in countless minutes. He could understand why. He’d told her to go to a safe place and she’d floated away. Because he knew every detail about her bastard step-father and the sadistic hold his actions still held over her, this unknown safe place he’d banished her to worried him.
Who was he kidding? He was the real cause of all this. If he could have just gotten his shit together and stood up to Vangie, then none of this would be happening.
He’d have gone on that trip with Trissy.
She wouldn’t have met up with Lucky, and even if she had, it somehow felt like she’d have been in a better place had they just gone to her birth town together.
Put her demons to rest and been free of them.
She wouldn’t be hung up over whether or not to be with his cousin and they’d all be living happily ever after. He could even see himself telling Vangie to go to hell with all her games. Telling her he’d fight her in court if he had to for his parental rights to Maryella. Nothing would be hanging over their heads, destroying the paths that led to the futures they all dreamed of.
Instead, he stood there hanging over his best friend, mounted on the hood of a car, for Christ’s sake, for all to bear witness to her humiliation and to his failure to be a man, a lecherous fool trying to convince himself forced sex could somehow be an option. Sam approached and hovered.
“What’s the fucking problem, asshole? You can’t get it up?”
“Look, you disgusting sadistic prick, she’s like family to me. Do you get that? If you can’t, you’re the fucking freak. And I’ll rip your throat out if you so much as try and touch her.”
“Nice speech. The problem is I’m tired of watching you limp dick it around so you’re done. Fox, Wade, get his ass to the side. J.D., Tab, hold her down. I’m fucking taking over, and you’re gonna watch, front row.” Sam took one threatening step forward.
“Noooo!! Wait, I’ll do it, I’ll do it,” he hollered, his voice bleeding with submission.
“You’ve already wasted my time. You ain’t got it in you, freak.”
“I said I’ll do it.” He would’ve turned and gouged their hideous eyes out, one by one. He didn’t care whose face they belonged to. But there were weapons involved, aimed in his and Trissy’s direction and he was working with bare hands. He felt futile against the demands.
“You have exactly one minute,” Sam threatened.
Trissy still hadn’t so much as taken in a deep breath. She hadn’t flinched throughout the backwoods, twisted manipulation he was entangled in with their captors. She was alive, he was sure of that but he feared she was in shock. It was better this way, somehow. Her voice would only have served to break his nerve again. He needed her to be lying there, still and silent. A non-participant in this gruesome act he was about to perform.
He had less than sixty seconds now. For her life and her love, her trust in him, he had to do this. He was a sexual being, addicted to its nuances and the pleasures it brought to him. It was what made him so lyrical and engaged in his music.
Get hard now. Come on, man, you stupid selfish prick. Do this for her, he thought as he reached into his pants, turning his head to the side so as to not see Trissy’s fallen face, laying there completely defenseless because of something he had told her to do.
And then he remembered a night, about two years passed. He had been wasted on White Lightning. Drunken and at home alone after just having blazed through a wicked fight with Vangie, he’d done a very foolish thing.
Earlier in the day he’d very purposefully and dutifully taken an Antabuse pill prescribed to him to aid in quitting the booze. But Vangie had not seen any point in his attempt as she had already dug into the satisfaction of seeing him break to her beck and call. She walked out after telling him that he shouldn’t waste his time. He was never seeing their daughter again.
The liquor and the medication had toxic effects when mixed. He’d called Trissy, panicked. When she arrived, he was flushed and dizzy, his heartbeat so fast it caused him severe pain. She offered and then insisted on a doctor but he refused. Eventually, after a dehydrating sweat and numerous dips into a frigid tub of bath water, he came down from the self-destructive foolery.
And for the rest of the night, she’d held his head cradled in her arms. No berating him for the idiot he’d been. No see-through attempts to say everything would be fine in the morning. She’d just held him.
He pushed himself further into the light grasps of that raw memory. The one where he had been so low and lost, a beggar in the night, looking for comfort from his friend. He’d needed her then almost as much as she needed him to do this for her tonight. Feeling the blood start to slowly flow through his ashamed heart and down through the unrelenting pain of the blows to his gut, seeping lower, it began to thicken a part of him that might save the both of them.
“Sam, shit! Look, headlights!” Fox shouted to his leader.
His focus remained. He couldn’t lose concentration again, he already knew his time was nearly up and that it would be impossible to drudge himself to this place again. Trissy remained inanimate, like a lifeless doll.
“J.D., look in the car for a phone. See if she made any calls.”
“Three calls about forty-five minutes ago. Last one was ten minutes long.”
“She must have made it and then never hung up. Whaddaya wanna bet those are friends of theirs?”
“I’m bored of this shit. Let’s leave them with a quick parting gift.”
Jaxon overheard most of what was being said but his brain was thick with concentration and a fear of failing Trissy again.
However when someone leveled a punishing blow to his kidneys with the damned pole, he was brought back to their wretched captors’ realm. He tried staying protectively covering Trissy but faltered, and then was picked up and tossed to the ground. Fox and Wade’s boots pressed down into his throat and pinned his hands to the ground. On his back and unable to move, he watched as Sam grabbed Trissy from the hood and slammed her face first down on top of him. Sam then stole the pole ou
t of Fox’s hands and delivered a final blow to her side. The parting gift was topped off with a disgusting spew of hateful spit.
Neither of them moved. As hard as it would’ve been to imagine a horror like what had just played out, it was more difficult to believe it was now over. But after hearing the scuffle of boots treading quickly and feverishly away from them, he rolled himself out from under Trissy’s limp, frozen body. He held her tight, searching for shelter, daring another to come at them. His breathing ragged, he lay on full alert, through the throbbing pain that shot up his back and to the base of his skull. No one else was touching her tonight. No one.
Chapter Thirty
Her mind hadn’t caught up yet to accepting they were safe on the other side. The past kept calling and like the silly moth to the flame, she’d sacrifice her wings for the hope of finding that lurking warmth. She had to be getting close.
“You’re not coming? Really? This is a joke, right?”
“No, it’s not, I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I feel like shit about it.”
“Me, too.”
The letdown was fierce. Why was she doing this to herself? She needed to find something good, something hopeful.
“Look, I understand you probably hate me right now. But I have to play by different rules than you, Trissy. You don’t have a little life hanging on a thread being dangled in front of your every move.”
It was true, she didn’t.
“I didn’t ask you for an apology and I didn’t ask you for an explanation.”
“Well, I am asking for your forgiveness.”
“Why is she doing this? I don’t understand it. What did I ever do to her?”
The thought of Vangie finding out about tonight would have knotted her stomach if not coming on the heels of something so horrid.
“It’s not her fault. It’s mine. And you’ve done nothing wrong. Okay? I just have to deal with this until…”
“Until what? Jaxon? Huh? Until what?”
“I don’t know, Trissy. But Maryellie needs me. So, I guess until she doesn’t anymore.”
“I understand. I’m still going, you know.”
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