But so, too, is this feeling of pure exhilaration and freedom I feel with Bones.
Everything, from the sting of the cold wind on my cheeks, whipping my hair into wild tangles at the nape of my neck, to the rumble of the bike vibrating up through my whole body, feels like it’s heightened. Like my senses have been dialed up to the highest setting. Colors are brighter. Scents are more potent. And my sense of touch… it’s exploded. Each brush of my fingertips across my mysterious savior’s rough, sun kissed skin feels fresh and new. It’s like no matter how much of his body I discover, there’s always some new angle to admire. And that’s nothing compared to how it feels when he touches me. Like fire and ice and wind and rain all mushed together into one careless, heart-racing shock. I have never felt like this before. Not in my fantasies. Not in my wildest, loftiest dreams. When I look at him across the room or wake up in the middle of the night to feel his strong arm cradling me close, holding me as though he will never, ever let me go, it’s all I can do to keep from giggling like a fool. Bones makes me foolish. He makes me daydream about a life I never thought could be within my reach. He gives me crazy ideas. He inspires me. And compared to the drab, gray world I used to inhabit, everything is almost oversaturated with color now. I don’t know how he does it.
He’s dark, but he is kind. He’s hard, but he can be soft when I need him to be. He tells me what to do, but he knows exactly what I want and what I need long before it even occurs to me. He fills me with a heady strength I’ve never known before, and that’s what has given me the boost I needed to agree to the event tonight.
We are on our way to the beach for what Bones described to me as a bonfire party. Now, I’m not totally naive. I know what a bonfire is. I know what a beach is. I’ve seen lots of people attend such events on TV or in movies. But it has always seemed, like most fun things, like something other people get to do. Not me. Not a girl who comes from such a grim place. I’ve lived in the dark like a little house mouse for so long it’s hard for me to even imagine how I could appropriately interact with these fun, carefree people tonight. Usually, if I’m going to be around some kind of crowd, I need some kind of liquid courage just to get me through the door. But with Bones by my side, it seems less scary. More inviting. Like it could almost be somewhere I might actually belong.
Still, I can’t quite ignore the little flares of social panic butterflying in my gut. I am going to try and fit in with Bones’s crowd. I know it’s silly to worry, but I keep wondering how they’re going to receive me. After all, I’m not from his world. What if I can’t fit in?
Almost as though he can feel my anxiety, Bones takes one hand off the steering bar to place it over my hands clasped over his chest. He gives my hands a brief little squeeze and a smile automatically jumps to my face. That’s all it takes. One touch, and the fear melts away. I lean around slightly to see the beach dunes looming ahead of us. The sky is like a bonfire itself, streaks of orange and pink crossing the orange clouds. The night is settling in around us, a heavy dark blanket across the world. It will all be okay, I remind myself. I have Bones. Nothing bad can happen to me while he’s around.
As we come around the corner of the highway, I can make out the smoke tendrils curling up toward the sky and the long shadows of people positioned around it. There’s another flicker of nervousness in my body, but it quickly dissipates when I hear the calming rhythm of the waves rolling in and out from the shore. There’s a radio propped up on a fallen tree, its branches craggy and sun-bleach and vibrating with the bass of the music playing. People are laughing and chatting, most of them holding cold beers. The motorcycle putters to a stop and Bones cuts the engine, deftly dismounting and offering me his hand. With a warm smile, I accept it and he helps me hop down.
“Hang on,” I tell him with a laugh, “let me squish my hair back down.”
“Yeah, the wind did a bit of a number on it,” he teases.
“I don’t suppose you have a comb somewhere in one of those jacket pockets?” I ask.
He snorts and shakes his head, looking at me like I just suggested we jump off a cliff. With his hands on his hips he says, “What do you think I am, a greaser?”
I shrug, unable to keep from grinning as I brush through my hair with my fingers. “I don’t know! You’ve got the motorcycle, the blonde girlfriend,” I list off.
“Girlfriend? Hmm. I’ll take it. But if you call me Danny Zuko in front of the boys, I’ll have to bend you over and spank you hard when we get home later,” he warns playfully.
I bite my lip and lean into him. “Well, then maybe I will,” I whisper.
“Bad girl,” he scolds gently. He taps me on the tip of my nose and I giggle, linking my arm with his. “Alright, we ready to go now?”
I nod. “Yep. Let’s do this.”
“Don’t worry, they’re a good group,” he tells me, sensing the faint worry in my tone. “They’ll love you. Some of them already know who you are anyway.”
“Ugh. That’s almost worse. My reputation precedes me,” I sigh.
Bones leans over and kisses the side of my head as we walk along down the wooden boardwalk to the beach. “Trust me, this crowd doesn’t give a damn about reputation,” he says.
As we step off the boardwalk into the muddy sand, several of the people nearby turn and give us a smile. They lift their beers and cheer at the sight of us. I look over to see the brilliant, confident smile on Bones’s face, and any worry I might have felt before just disappears. This is his scene, his comfort zone. These are his people. And I am his girl. It’s two worlds colliding, but in the best way possible.
“Bones! You made it out, man!” calls one of the men with a big grin on his face.
He’s a good-looking guy with a familiar face, and I manage to put it together even in the dim light of the crackling bonfire that this is the one called Breaker. He has his arm around a stunningly pretty girl in an oversized turtleneck and sweatpants, her hair pulled back in a cute, bouncy ponytail. There’s a sort of glow about her that instantly makes me want to be her friend, and I’m relieved when this couple is the first pair Bones walks us over to.
“And you brought your girl! It’s officially a party now,” Breaker says warmly. I can tell by the ruddiness of his cheeks that he’s probably at least a few beers in, but he and the girl beside him look so deliriously happy that it makes me smile.
“Hi! Nice to meet you,” says the girl, holding out her hand for me. I reach to shake it, but then she pulls me into a tight hug, to my surprise. When she pushes back, she’s beaming. “I’m Kate. And you must be Lauren.”
“That’s me,” I answer cheerily.
“Good to see you, man,” Breaker says, patting Bones on the back.
“You, too. Pretty good turnout,” Bones replies, looking out over the scattered crowd.
“Yeah. It’s always good to get everybody out in nature once in a while instead of just packing us all into the clubhouse,” Breaker laughs.
“Thank god, because I sure as hell can’t get s’mores at the bar,” Kate quips. I notice then that she has her hand resting casually on her belly.
“Oh my god,” I gasp, unable to contain myself. “Are you pregnant?”
I immediately blush, realizing that may not have been the most tactful way to breach that question, but Kate just nods, an ecstatic smile on her face.
“Yep! And let me tell you, I don’t even miss my usual glass of wine. Morning sickness or not, this is the best I’ve ever felt. It’s weird; I always thought being pregnant would be hard, but it turns out it’s the easiest thing in the world. I already love this baby more than anything else,” Kate gushes. There’s a sparkle to her eyes that warms my heart.
“You know, it’s true what they say—you really are glowing,” I point out.
“Ah, she always looks like that,” Breaker scoffs good-naturedly.
“Oh, stop,” Kate says, elbowing him in the ribs gently. But I can tell she secretly loves it.
I know how she feels. Ev
ery time Bones even looks at me, I feel it. She and Breaker make a fantastic couple. It’s easy to see, even in the low light. They truly love each other. As Bones and I move on to the next little group of people to chat with, I’m only half paying attention. I’m enjoying the hell out of the evening, especially once I’ve got an ice-cold beer in my hands to sip between laughs, but my mind is already drifting out into daydream territory. Maybe it’s the glow of the moon shimmering on the waves. Maybe it’s the upbeat music bumping through the stereo. It probably has at least something to do with the way that Bones keeps an arm around me at all times, like he’s protecting me and showing me off at the same time. Every time he glances at me, my heart does a black flip. He looks so damn good in the flickering, golden gleam of the bonfire, every sharp angle and line of his face accentuated by the orange light. I have to keep reminding myself that tonight, and every night since we met, he’s mine. And I am his. It still blows my mind to think about it. How lucky I am to be here right now. I’m so blissfully happy that I even start to lose myself a little, getting caught up between the positive, playful banter of Bones and his people and the sun soaked fantasies rolling through my head now and again. Throughout the evening, I keep glancing back at Kate and Breaker. They’re so happy, so excited for the future in front of them. It’s strange to realize that for the first time in my life, I feel like I have something to look forward to, as well. I’ve been running from my past for long I kind of forgot to imagine a future, but every minute I spend with Bones makes that elusive tomorrow shine a little brighter, look a little more real.
Maybe that could be us one day. If my luck doesn’t run out.
Even the single members of the group are great fun, everyone respectful and careful with one another’s egos, even as they roughhouse and tease one another. It’s another first for me: seeing a group of people this big who all seem to genuinely like each other. Like one great big family sprawled out across the beach. As the hours tick by like minutes, I begin to feel a connection with the group as a whole, like I might actually belong here. Bones introduces me to two other guys from the club, named Big Daddy and Ironsides, who are both the kind of intimidating guys I would have recoiled from months ago. But with Bones there to introduce me as his girl, keeping his arm around me protectively, I know I have nothing to fear. And once you get past the rough-around-the-edges look, it’s apparent that they’re all a bunch of sweethearts underneath it all. Just like Bones.
After we get enough of socializing and need a break, we splinter off from the group and wander down closer to the lapping shore. Bones wraps his arms around me, resting his chin on the back of my head as we look out over the moonlit waves. Even though we’ve been spending every second together, and I feel like the icy fortress I’ve built up around myself has been slowly melting away, I still haven’t been particularly open about my feelings. My past. But something about the easygoing excitement of the evening has me feeling more vulnerable—in a good way, for once. I want to open up. I want to share.
“You know,” I begin softly, “I never imagined I could have a night like this.”
“Like what?” Bones prompts me.
I sigh, trying to find the right words. “Like… I don’t know. Good. Happy. Like I actually belong here. I guess I kind of forgot what it feels like to have friends. Or family,” I admit.
“I can understand that,” he says.
“I know you can,” I reply with a soft smile. “That’s what makes me feel so brave, I guess. I’ve been trying to escape my past for so long, I never take the opportunity to just… feel things. Other than fear. It’s kind of exhausting.”
“Yes. It is. You can try and outrun your past, but eventually you just get tired of running,” Bones says wisely. And it’s true. “At some point, you just have to stop looking back.”
“How? How do you stop looking back?” I ask, genuinely in need of the answer.
Bones shrugs and gives me a gentle squeeze. “By looking forward instead,” he says.
“Wow. That’s deep,” I laugh.
He kisses the top of my head. “I know. It’s hard to believe I can be this good-looking and also so clever,” he teases.
I lean back into him, tilting my head back to look at his handsome face in the moonlight.
“Yeah. Hard to believe,” I murmur in agreement.
In this moment, I feel complete. It’s a new feeling, and not one I entirely understand yet. But damn, does it feel good. I’m just starting to think maybe my luck is changing for the better, until a loud crackle splits the air and a collective shout of worry passes through the crowd.
“What the hell was that?” Bones growls, letting go of me for a moment to whirl around.
Before we can say anything else, another crack bursts through the air, and I know with the sinking of my heart exactly what it is.
Gunshots.
Lauren
All at once, it’s like the world reduces down, folding in on itself at the very moment the gunshots pierce the balmy air. Suddenly, the softness of the evening spins out and frays, a harsh darkness settling in over the beach. It’s like time has slowed down, a moment feeling like minutes, like hours. Everything is chaos. Everywhere I look, there are dim shadows of bonfire attendees scattering to the wind. It reminds me of when a passing car disrupts a murder of crows gathered in the street. The frantic cries, the desperate fleeing. All drifting out into the darkness and the wind and the confusion. Nothing makes sense right now.
We were having such an amazing conversation, the two of us. I was smiling. I was happy for perhaps the first time in my life, truly happy. But I should know by now I don’t get to be happy. The stars were in a cursed arrangement on the day I was born. I’m a jinx. There’s no way around it anymore. How many times will fate tempt me to believe I might have a chance at something good, only for it to take it right back? My destiny comes hurtling back to hit me hard in the gut. It’s that age-old reminder that things will never better. And if they seem better for a second, just wait for the other shoe to drop. And tonight, it’s dropped.
All of the party-goers are racing off in different directions, as nobody can quite pinpoint the direction from which the gunshots are ringing out. My eyes are wide, my heart is pounding so hard it aches like a weight in my chest, and I can hardly get my body to calm down enough to coordinate my legs to run. But then, does it matter? I have no idea which direction to run. The gunshots sound like they are coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. They could almost be the celebratory crackle of fireworks except that there is no glorious burst of colored light in the sky. No oohs and ahhs. No fanfare. Only screams and curses and shouts of the terrified crowd as they frantically scurry toward what they hope is safety. But in the dark, it’s apparent that nobody really knows where to go or what to do. We’re fish in a barrel, and the gunshots ring out one after another, barely any time to reload in between.
“Bones! What do we do?” I cry out, grasping to take his hand as he turns toward the sound of the gunfire.
“Get down, stay down. I’m going to figure this out,” Bones growls.
To my horror, he lets go of my hand and sprints off into the blackness, in the direction of the gunshots, evidently. I stand there for a second, just staring off into the shadows after him, tears starting to burn in my eyes. He’s gone. Running away to face the monster instead of letting it chase him. Just like our pasts—we cannot outrun a bullet. But we can destroy the hands that hold the gun. Is that his plan? To run through a hail of bullets on the off chance that he makes it through unscathed and still full of enough fight to take them down? I’m torn in two conflicting directions, and so I stand perfectly still and paralyzed in place. On the one hand, my heart swells at the realization that Bones is so heroic as to do the opposite of logical reason, to do what probably nobody else would try. He’s heading toward the monsters. Straight into their lair, without even looking back. He’s a hero by instinct. He isn’t afraid of death.
What is he afraid
of? Losing me? Losing his makeshift family?
Is that the compulsion that propels him across the bullet-ridden beach to fight the monsters with his bare hands? He wants to protect us all. And in the doing of that, he might sacrifice his own safety, his own life, just to carry out his mission. Another crack of gunshot pierces the air and I let out a little yelp as I drop to the ground, curling up in the fetal position as though I can just sink through the lakeshore silt and disappear into the earth. I know, somewhat vaguely, that I can’t stay here. That I’m making myself an even easier target by staying still. But I’m not thinking clearly. Panic alarms rip through my brain, my heart thumping so loud I can hear it resounding in my ears. I turn my head and crack one eye open to see the last remnants of Bones disappear into the night. One more huge, running step of his body and he’s gone. As soon as I can no longer find his shape in the darkness, any shred of hope I might have clung to just falls out of my chest, replaced by fear. Primal fear. We are being hunted like animals, and so like an animal I must respond.
Fight, flight, or freeze?
I know I don’t have the strength to fight. I would be a liability more than an aid in that regard. I’ve already frozen up and fell down on the ground like an opossum playing dead, and clearly this is not an appropriate long-term plan. So that leaves just one option.
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