by Lux, Vivian
"Yeah," she sighed, sliding back down, not meeting my eyes. I recognized that look. She wanted to say something to me, but she didn't know how. Fine. I got that.
"Tell me when you find the words," I said, brushing my hand up her back.
"I will," she said, practically choking. Then she shook her hair free of the helmet and fluffed out that wild mane of hers. "So I have a demand. It's not a request," she told me, taking my hand and leading me over to a grassy area next to the water.
"And what's that?"
"You need to teach me to ride," she said earnestly. "Like, right now. I must get a bike, like yesterday."
I laughed. "Is that it? I thought it'd be something hard."
"It's not hard?"
"Well...," I hedged and poked her. "It's not hard...for me."
"Ass, I'm serious. Like right now. Do you have to work tonight?"
I just picked up a bouncing gig at Jokers. Weekends only, nothing big. I basically just leaned against a stool and looked pissed off and everyone pretty much behaved themselves. Easy money. Plus I got to harass that dickwad, Fitch. That was enjoyable.
"Not til tomorrow, Sal's being a cheap-ass this week."
"You be nice to him, he's my neighbor."
I held up my hands in mock innocence. "Ain't I always nice?"
She blinked. "So far so good, but I have my eye on you, Nelson."
"Good, Hope you like what you see."
The joke left my lips before I realized that she had called me by my given name. And it took a second more realized that I didn't care. Gabi didn't notice my strange reaction, or if she did she didn't comment on it. That was one of the things I loved about this girl. She knew some things were private, and she didn't seem in a hurry to rush them out of me. Like she was confident she'd be around long enough to hear all about it eventually. It had this strange effect of making me want to tell her more about myself that even I could understand.
She pushed me back onto the grass and then sighed with contentment and she curled up into the crook of my shoulder. The blades were slightly damp with Spring's melting, but she didn't seem to mind as we stared up into the blue sky. Even the massive planes jetting overhead couldn't disturb the puffy white tranquility of the clouds ambling by. "So when should we start those lessons?" she prodded.
"Whenever you want," I sighed but made no effort to move. I really didn't want to get up from where I was.
Gabi snuggled back down into my arms and sighed, giving up, if only for the moment. "Who taught you to ride?" she suddenly asked.
I took a deep breath. "The first time? Or the second?"
I felt her shift to look at me. "Let's start with the second," she said softly.
I watched one cloud separate from a larger one, seemingly determined to follow its own path. Several moments went by when my mind was a pleasant blank, when I didn't have to think about what I had left behind in Philadelphia. I didn't want to think about it. I had this girl, I had this house, I had this new job. Once more, I had reinvented myself just like I was so good at doing. Except this time, I hadn't woken up in a hospital bed with my mind completely blank. This time that slate hadn't been wiped clean. I still remembered everything about my old life. I was still that person. The past was still there.
"My doctor," I finally said. "Doctor D. Doc."
Chapter Twenty-One
Gabriela
I knew it couldn't be that simple. Nothing with Crash ever was. And the way he said the man's name, the heaviness of his voice let me know that there was a lot more to this story than I could understand.
"Do you want to talk about Doc?" I asked him carefully.
Crash let out a sigh that could have blown the clouds clear across the sky. Then I felt him tense up.
"Okay, okay, you don't have to say a word," I told him running my hand down his chest. The sun had warmed the leather of his jacket to almost scalding under my fingertips. I snaked my hand underneath and brushed it along the soft, worn fabric of his old black T-shirt.
He grabbed my hand off his chest and brought it to his lips, kissing each one of my fingertips in turn. I cupped my palm to his face and turned it to look at me. His deep blue eyes were narrowed, the sharp angle of his jaw pulsing with tension. "Hey," I told him, trying to put as much of my feelings into the small words as I could. "You're not there, you're here, with me, okay?"
I didn't know quite what I was saying, but it was apparently the right thing. He closed his eyes and gave a slight nod. I stretched my neck upward and brushed my lips against his, and he exhaled softly and rolled onto his shoulder to face me.
"You've never asked me about what I was doing in Philadelphia," he said.
"Well no. I figured you'd tell me if you wanted." I said.
He closed his eyes again, retreating back into himself. "That's the thing. I do want to tell you. But Gabi, you should know that… Well… The things I did when I was there? They weren't, exactly good things."
I felt my heart quicken. I don't want to know. If there is a problem I don't want to hear it. I don't want to live in the past anymore, Ben's past, my past, all of that shit, I don't want it. I just want to be happy in the now. "And is that why you left?" I asked him.
He opened his eyes. "More or less."
I nodded. "Then that's it then. You're here, you left for good reason, and now you have a good reason to stay."
"I do," he said. And then he rolled on top of me, kissing me harder than he had ever kissed me before. It was the kiss of a frantic man, someone who was about to lose something, someone who was drowning. I didn't understand the force of his emotions, but I certainly felt the force of his desire. I spread my legs wide, opening up to grip him with everything I had; my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck. I was clinging to him, holding onto him, knowing that if I let go he would drown in the hurt of his past.
"Where do you want to go?" he rasped.
I did a mental map of Lenape. "Your place's closer," I panted.
He froze for a moment, and then nodded. He hadn't invited me over yet. This would be the first time I stepped into his grandmother's house.
He sped back down the reservoir road with a single-minded purpose. When we reached the shambling Cape, I barely noticed where I was before he had me inside and on the floor of his living room. He fucked me, hard and fast, almost too rough but not quite, taking me just to the edge of my limits before pulling back to kiss me hard as he came silently, shuddering to a halt, then collapsing in my arms.
He was staring at me, his eyes darting back and forth like he was trying to read my face. Then he nodded and rolled back onto his back.
I snuggled back up into his arms, but the easy comfort of being there was gone. No matter how much I tried to push it back down again, the fear of his past kept bubbling back up again. Not exactly good things, what did that mean? Why had he left his home in such a hurry? Who was this Doc person that made his voice go all soft and heavy when he said his name?
A rebellion was going on inside of my head. The side of me that wanted to break from the past and move forward fought tooth and nail with the side that was still caught up in old hurts. It seemed like I was forever going to be trapped between two worlds. It used to be between two cultures, now it was between two versions of myself.
And I couldn't ignore that. And clearly Crash couldn't ignore the old version of himself either. "Okay," I exhaled as I stared at the popcorn ceiling of his grandmother's living room. "Don't tell me the bad stuff. I just want to know about Doc. He sounds like he was a good thing."
"He was a good thing," he said, as he idly tucked himself back into his jeans. "Fuck it, before you, I'd say he was the best thing."
"So tell me about him."
Crash was staring so hard at the ceiling that he didn't even seem to know I was there any more. I waited, letting him find the words, as I traced the stubble on his jawbone with my eyes. The scars on his head were barely visible in the low light, but I knew they were there, spider webbing hi
s skin like a tattoo, but more permanent. A tattoo that went deeper than ink ever could.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Crash
"He… was my doctor."
I chuckled at my own incoherence. "I mean, obviously, with the name and all that I guess you'd figure that part out already. But that's not right either."
I shut my eyes and that seemed to help me think better. "His was the first face I saw when I woke up, does that make sense?" That memory was burned into my brain. His big florid nose, just starting to bloom out with red gin blossoms, but back then they were more like gin buds.
"He's an ugly motherfucker too, which is a shame since I had to see that shit first thing when I woke up. But, he was…there. And then he just…stayed there. No matter how much I fought him, no matter how much I fucked up, no matter how much I tried to be the worst shit I could be to drive him away, he just…stayed. And the longer he stayed, the more I started to believe him when he said everything could be right again. When he stayed and didn't go I knew that I was going to be okay again."
I wasn't looking at Gabi but I could hear her breathing as it went shallow. She was thinking hard, and I was too but my mind was not here in the room with her.
I was pissed. I would fight him,
"Get on."
"I can't. Stop asking."
"You're really going to do this? You're really going to refuse to do something you love just because it's hard?"
The seizures were right there, hanging on the edge, ready to take over my body as I looked at him. He was just starting to grow out the beard, had just left the medical practice, and the gloves were fucking off. He was standing there with his fat legs planted wide, bull-headedly trying to get me to do something that he had to know I physically couldn't do.
I didn't understand why it was so fucking important for him that I get back up on that bike.
"Yeah you asshole, I almost died on a bike."
Doc's gut was already starting to become prodigious. Since he no longer had to pretend to be into healthy living for the sake of his patients, his appetite was growing. He laced his fingers over the top of it like he was proud of that giant, round fuck-you to sober living and he fixed me with his beady stare. "But you didn't die, then. You're alive. Or are you?"
Oh for fuck's sake, he was trying to be all portentous and shit, and I wasn't having it. The sun was hot and I wanted to get back to the comfort of the AC and the bottle. "It's just a goddamned motorcycle, Doc! It's a piece of machinery that…that.…" I was getting agitated and when I get agitated, I lose my words. Back in those bad old days I lost them a lot. "Fuck it, I am alive, goddammit, but I'm fucking scared okay? Okay? Is that what you want me to say? Yeah, all right, I'm a goddamned pussy, I'm scared to get on that motorcycle. Scared because riding a motorcycle took everything from me!"
"So get it back."
"Doc saved my fucking life." That wasn't the first time I had said those words, but it was the first time I had really meant them. "He saved my life on the operating table, and then he saved it again, and again, and again after that. He kept saving me until it became a fucking habit to have him nearby, making things easier for me. He was like my big, bearded, bloated crutch, in human form, and it wasn't fucking fair to either of us for me to keep leaning on him like that. Leaning on all of them."
"All of them?" Gabi prodded softly. I knew she would.
"The Sons of Steel Motorcycle Club."
"Who are they?"
Who are they? That was a question I don't really know the answer to anymore. They were, are, my brothers, sworn to it, but I left. I left even though I swore I'd never would.
All of a sudden the room was too damn small. My clothes were too tight, and Gabi's small hand on my chest felt like it was made out of lead. I blinked and gritted my teeth as the sweat started to bead along my forehead. Fuck it, shit, shit, "Shit," I said out loud. I felt the muscles firing inside of me without my will, moving on their own, twitching and jerking me around.
Gabi set up in alarm, "Crash?" Her voice was a stifled scream. She put her hand on me but I jolted it back off again as this full force of the seizure took hold. "Ben! Ben!"
Fuck, oh fuck, I never wanted to do this in front of her, shit, okay, just breathe, I can get through this, count to ten, find a fixed point, it's a good thing I'm on the goddamn floor already so I can't fall down.
I rolled to my side and tried to breathe through the spasms, my breath sounded like a hissing dragon poised at the other side of the room, ready to breathe fire. Gabi's stricken voice was far, far away, but there was nothing she could do anyway, the seizure had taken hold of me and wasn't going to let it go until it was through. There was nothing I could do. I had no control over this, or anything, and I was a fool to think otherwise.
It finally broke its hold after what seemed like hours but was probably only seconds. The misfiring synapses in my brain calmed down, leaving me bathed in sweat as if someone had poured a bucket of water on me. My mouth was a desert, "Could you get me some water?" I croaked, hating how weak and helpless I sounded.
Gabi rushed to the tap, and I heard the squeak of the pipes. It sounded normal. Not too loud, not too soft, not like something that was going to eat me alive. The seizure was definitely over, but now I had revealed way too much to Gabi. I didn't want her to know this about me, I already told her too much in telling her about Doc. I'm only going to fucking hurt her.
She reappeared in the doorway, panic and concern written all over her face. I hated seeing her look at me like that.
"Thanks," I said taking the glass of water and sitting upright on the floor. I took a sip and flexed my fingers, feeling whole within my skin again.
"Is there anything else I can do?" Gabi asked.
I shook my head unable to meet her eyes.
"Do you get those a lot?" she asked softly.
How much should I tell her? "Less than I used to," I confessed. Fuck it, I had already laid myself bare in front of this girl, why try to retain any dignity? Dignity wasn't a luxury I usually gave myself anyway.
"Seizures?"
I nodded and took another drink, still unable to meet her eyes. I couldn't take this any more.
"What do you want me to do?"
I was about to hurt her. I was about to break her heart, I knew it, she looked at me and I knew she felt the same way I felt, but I just couldn't have her see me as some cripple. Not her, not Gabi. "I want you to go."
The breath left her lungs like I had punched her with my words, and I felt distinctly shitty about myself. But since feeling that way was so goddamn familiar, it barely even registered. "Leave me alone."
"Ben…," she started.
"Don't fucking call me that!" I snarled, and she jumped away. I hated the fear I saw in her eyes and hated that I was the one that caused it. "I asked you not to call me that, ever."
She pressed her lips together tightly and I saw fire in her eyes. "Fine," she said, making to the door. Every fiber in my body screamed at me for letting her walk over there, but my pride would not let me stop her. "But I tell you one thing...Crash," she said my name deliberately. "I think you should call this Doctor D. guy. Have you called him? Have you let him know that you're okay?"
That was the last thing I expected her to say, and I just gaped at her while she silently regarded me. "I didn't think so," she said tightly. "Fucking call him, got it?"
She turned and walked out the door.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Gabriela
I walked stiffly out of the front door, my shoulders back, my head held high. No deja que los hijos de puta te agobien, Son of a bitch was getting me fucking down. Stop it. One foot in front of the other until I reached the end of the walkway and stood on the sidewalk. It was then that I realized that we had come here on Crash's bike and I had no way of getting home.
That was when the tears came.
I could still feel him inside of me. My lips were still swollen, my cheeks still pleasantly burned from
the rasp of his stubble. To have gone from that to having the door shut on me?
Ada sounded harried on the phone, but when did she not? The minute she heard the tears in my voice, her big sister protective instinct kicked in. "I'll be there, just give me ten minutes, gotta get Sammy into the car seat."
I thanked her, sniffled slightly, and hung up the phone. Why was I crying? I never fucking cried.
The image of Crash shaking on the floor, his limbs unnaturally stiff, like he was being moved by an invisible puppeteer, flashed in front of my eyes and the tears spilled again.
I hadn't known how to help him. I hadn't even known that he needed help until it was almost over. My brain was locked in shock, and I just stood by ineffectually while the man I had just slept with, the man who occupied most of my thoughts, sweated and gritted his teeth in the throes of something I didn't understand.
I knew he had amnesia, I knew he had a limp, I knew that the scarring was there. But I had no idea about the seizures.
He never told me.
Ada's lime green sedan appeared at the end of the street and I hurried towards it. She pulled over to the side and I could hear Sammy's squawks of protest from outside of the car. Good. I silently thanked my little nephew for the tantrum that would keep her from asking me too many uncomfortable questions that I didn't know the answers to. Too many questions I didn't even know enough to ask myself.
I opened the passenger door and was nearly knocked backward by the full force of Sammy's tantrum. The skin around Ada's eyes looks too tight, like she had downed too many cups of coffee to get through the day. I hope she wouldn't mind making one more for me.
We drove back to her apartment in silence, her instinctively knowing that I didn't want to go home and be alone. It wasn't exactly silence, but Sammy's cries were loud enough to drown out the clamor in my head, at least for a while.
What was I doing? He was too much. He was too difficult, too prickly, too damaged for me to be able to love properly and yet…