“He always does, Tracey.”
I feel like I've just been kicked in the stomach. The air in the room feels much thinner. I grip the side of the sink and stare at myself, willing myself to hold it together. I'm fairly certain that Tracey is the bartender from Ray's. He’s slept with her. From the sound of it, more than once.
He lied to me when I asked. I knew he was keeping something from me. God, how could I be so stupid? I’ve been swept up in Corbin. What we have feels so real. Could I be just a fling to him? Everything he has said to me has alluded to us being exclusive, and him being in it for the long haul. Maybe there is more to the story.
Despite the fact that I have a sick feeling in my stomach, I decide I'm going to square my shoulders and go back out there. Now is not the time for a confrontation. I will find out what this is all about, as soon as we leave here.
When I walk out of the restroom, I don’t see Corbin so I decide to head back over to the bar. I order a double of Jack straight up and slam it back needing something to calm my nerves.
“Hey there. You owe me a drink. I dropped mine when you walked by.” I hear a voice next to me and know immediately it’s Parker. I chuckle a little.
“Hey, Parker. Do you always have such great lines?”
“Just for you.”
“I highly doubt that,” I respond, rolling my eyes and shaking my head. He is a welcome distraction from the hurt that I have going on inside.
“So whatcha’ drinkin’?”
“You can’t handle what I got going on.”
“Try me,” Parker says.
“Okay,” I nod over to the bartender, “Two more.” The bartender pours two more doubles and slides them over to us.
“Bottoms up,” I say, lifting the glass up to his. His eyes get wide as he takes the double shot down.
“You weren’t kidding.”
“You want another?” He looks at me like I am crazy.
“Suit yourself,” I motion to the bartender, “One more.” The bartender pours me another, which I easily throw back. The six shots I’ve thrown back have help calm my nerves.
“So, why are you doing shots by yourself? Where’s Marx?” I look around. I expected him to have found me already, and since he hasn’t I decide that I should go find him.
“You know what? That’s a good question. I’m going to go look for him.” I excuse myself from Parker and begin to walk the room in search of Corbin.
There are a lot of people here. I navigate through the crowds of uniformed men and nicely dressed women. I feel like I’m looking everywhere. I decide to look on the outside of the tent. Perhaps, he’s out there. I’m about to walk around a corner of the tent, when I hear Corbin’s voice. It stops me in my tracks.
“Yes, Sir. Raul Sanchez has made two shipments and the third shipment is expected to arrive on time.”
“Very well, Marx. I expect a report as soon as we have confirmation.” I’m frozen in shock. I’ve heard that name from Corbin before. My mind flashes to the cottage when I heard him from the window. Raul. That is the name I heard him say.
Everything hits me at once, and I feel like I’m going to be sick. Tracey just said he uses woman. Me. He is using me. The club. This has to do with the club. Something about someone named Raul, but it’s no coincidence. I know it. I don’t have all of the pieces yet, but I’m sure I've been betrayed.
I suddenly feel stupid and dirty. Everything I've felt between us is a lie. I double over, grabbing the side of the tent. I'm angry, hurt, and betrayed.
“Maura?” I hear Corbin’s voice. “Are you okay?”
He puts his hand on my back, trying to comfort me. It dawns on me that he doesn’t know I heard him in the cottage. Even if he knows I overheard him, he wouldn’t think it means anything to me. But it’s too much.
“Get away from me,” I smack Corbin's hand from my back, “Don’t you touch me! Never again!”
Corbin looks at me with concern as he grabs my chin in his hand and begins searching my eyes.
“Maura? What is it? What’s going on?”
The pain I feel is insurmountable. Every time I’ve felt like the club has prevented me from being happy is weighing on me at this moment. With Corbin, I’ve felt like, for once, I get to have someone that is mine. Who sees me for me, that’s separate from the club, but could love me anyways. Even though I haven’t said the words out loud, I know that I love Corbin Marx. And now, I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was a means to an end.
I smack his hand away again. “I said don’t fucking touch me.” My voice is louder. I’m trying to keep it steady, but there is a slight quiver at the end.
“Maura, you're scaring me. What’s going on? Talk to me.”
I want to cry and scream at him, and tell him how he has betrayed me, but I'm not going to let him get any emotion from me. I swallow back the tears that are threatening to fall. I will not let him see me cry. I stand tall and square my shoulders.
“Don’t touch me again, or I will scream so loud every soldier with a hero complex in there will come running.”
“Maura, whatever it is I can explain. Just talk to me. Please.” Corbin is pleading but keeping his distance. He looks pained and scared. Oh, he is good. His acting abilities have worked on me so far, but I’m not going to fall for any more.
“Please, Maura.”
“I'm leaving. Whatever this was between us is over. The club will keep me safe.” I say in the most flat, neutral voice I can muster, but inside it’s tearing me in two. His betrayal is breaking me.
“Maura, no! Don’t leave me. Let me explain. I can’t lose you.”
“I’m already gone,” I turn from Corbin and start to walk in the opposite direction. He begins to follow me and I had hoped he wouldn’t.
“What do you mean ‘it’s over’? Is it so easy for you to walk away? From us? From me? You won’t even talk to me?” He seems hurt; like he has the right to be hurt. He isn’t the one whose heart was just ripped in half.
I want to hurt him. I reach into my purse and pull out my cell phone. I hit Dawson’s name on my list of favorites and stare down Corbin as it rings. Dawson picks up on the second ring.
“Baby Girl.”
“Dawson, I need you to come get me.”
“What the fuck, Maura? Are you hurt? Did that fucking meathead hurt you? I swear to God, I will fucking bury him.”
“Dawson, just come. I’ll text you the address.”
“I’m comin’. Do I need back up?”
“No, just you.” I hang up the phone with Dawson and stick it back in my purse keeping my hand inside deciding on my next move.
“So that’s it? You're just going to leave with him?” Corbin puts his hand on my arm.
“I warned you.”
I pull out my small Glock, glad that I always have it and shoot straight into the air, screaming gun at the top of my lungs. Corbin looks at me, horrified, as people frantically pile out of the tent. I quickly put my gun back in my purse as people rush out of the tent in every direction. I've assured chaos, and that was my goal. I hurry away from Corbin among the throngs of people, but not before stealing one last look at him. He looks like he is physically in pain. He silently mouths the word no. The stupid part of me that believed what we had was real wants to run to him and comfort him, but the broken, angry part of me knows that I need to keep going and get away before any more damage is done.
Chapter 11
I escaped the throngs of people by ducking into a large military superstore. Sitting in the cafe section of the store, I drink my second specialty coffee. I just changed into a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt and a pair of boots that I had to have a woman buy for me since I’m not military, but I tipped her nicely. Not the best fashion statement, but at least it will get me home on a bike.
Times like this I’m so grateful for my dad.
Mickeyism #114
Leaving the house without money or your gun is like leaving the house in your knickers, you just don
’t do it.
I’m glad I had both, my money and gun with me. When I changed, I decided to just leave my dress and heels in the bathroom. Maybe it can do someone some good. I don’t need any reminders of today. I just sit and sip my coffee.
I’m not sure how much time has passed. I will not break down. I will not break down. I repeat this in my head like it’s my mantra, alternating between that and do not shed a tear. I’m holding it in and doing my best to hold it together but I feel like I’m being ripped wide open. I have never felt pain like I do right now, but I will not give in and let him have a tear.
Mickeyism # 121
A man who betrays is as good as dead.
He betrayed me. Betrayed what we were building. Was it even real? Did I give it up to the first guy to show me any attention besides Daws. Was Dawson right? Was I just acting like a whore? Is that what I am? Another club whore being used to fulfill a man's need? And what was his need? To use me? To get to the club? To fuck me? Could he have been so convincing to steal my heart, too. Am I so naive that I gave him my heart this easily? God, I gotta lay off of the caffeine. My mind is racing. I will not shed a tear. Repeat mantra, I will not break down.
When I got to the store, I texted Daws to let him know that I’m hiding out in a superstore, and then I shut off my phone. I look up at the clock. It’s been two and a half numbing hours. Shit! I realize that I'm on base and that there is no way Daws is getting on.
I power up my phone. There are a zillion voice mails. I assume they are all from Corbin. I look up a cab service, quickly dial them, and arrange for a cab to pick me up. I’m not going back to Corbin’s. I’m going to miss my leather, but I can go without it. I’m going to have to anyways, because as much as I love my leather, there is no way I will face him. None.
I send Daws a text.
Me: Hey U wont B able to get on base, I’m getting a cab, I’ll text u knew local
Just as I’m about to power off my phone, I get another text. I wish I had never opened my phone because I can’t help that I see the start of a text. The part of me that apparently needs to further dig the knife that’s tearing my heart in two can’t help herself. I read the text.
Corbin: Fuck I’m going out of my mind where r u? Call me. let me explain. It’s not what u think. I can’t lose you, I’ve fallen...
I shut off my phone again. I can’t see anymore of that. I will not break down. I will not break down. Maybe if I repeat it enough, I might believe it.
I stand up, toss my cup in a waste basket, and head to the restroom one more time before I go outside to wait for the cab. Two cups of coffee will do that to you. I finish and see that my dress and shoes are still sitting on the counter of the ladies room. I thought for sure someone would have grabbed them up by now. I can’t help but rub my fingers over the dress one last time before exiting the restroom.
I'm careful and look over my shoulder as I walk outside and wait for my cab. I put the hood up on my sweatshirt and hang off to the side of the building trying to stay inconspicuous. I don’t want to be seen. The cab pulls up and I quickly jump in the back seat.
“Hey, lady? You the one who called?” The cabbie asks.
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“Where are you headed?”
“Listen, I just need to get off base and away from all these Meatheads.”
The cabbie laughs, “I’m one of those meatheads, retired.”
“Oh sorry,” I say in a quiet voice, not wanting to tick off my driver.
“It’s okay. You get into it with your man?”
“Yeah, listen I’m sorry...just can you get me outta here? A friend is going to pick me up and they won’t be able to get on base.”
He chuckles and I assume that I'm not the first woman he has picked up fleeing her Marine.
“No problem. I know where to drop ya.”
I stare out the window of the cab as we drive off of the base. I watch in the mirror as it gets smaller and smaller. The further the distance, the more I feel like I'm splintering, becoming a shred of what I once was. I will not shed a tear. I will not break down. My mantra changes, once I can no longer see it. Breathe in. Breath out. In. Out. In. Out. I repeat again and again. I feel like I need to concentrate on breathing. The weight on my chest is suffocating me.
The cab slows then comes to a stop in front of a public library. The cabbie shrugs. “You won’t find too many of us meatheads in here on a Saturday. Take care of yourself, girl.”
I pay the cabbie and head into the library where I find a nook in the romance section to keep myself busy. I also power on my phone and send Daws a quick text telling him where I am. I look at the books surrounding me. Half dressed men and beautiful woman adorn the covers.
Was I so foolish to think that romance was real, and that I deserved it? I realize all of these stories I’ve read are just made up fantasies to fulfill some dream. Undying love, hmph I laugh at the thought. It’s just dreamed up shit for some gullible naive woman to believe in. In reality, life is filled with selfish people. We all want something from someone.
To Dawson, I am a conquest. He only wants me because I wouldn’t have him. Corbin wanted me as a means to an end. Perhaps I wanted him so that I could feel loved and desired. But none of that was real. I don’t know how long I sit, but I get angrier and angrier at my stupidity. I’m the daughter of a biker, a Devil’s Crusader; a stupid woman, who gave it up too quickly and put her heart out there only to be reminded that fairytales don’t exist. Not for girls like me. I stare at the books, no longer having to repeat my mantra about not crying. There are no tears. There is nothing. I am numb.
Chapter 12
“Maura! Maura!” Dawson’s frantic screams echo off the high ceilings of the library, calling me out of hiding. I hear the librarian chastise him for being loud. Stepping out of my nook and into the walkway, Dawson’s eyes land on me. He walks up to me and cups each side of my face.
“Baby Girl,” he says gently, though I can see his nostrils flaring.
“Did that motherfucker hurt you? I swear to you I will find him right now, and put him in the motherfuckin’ ground,” he hisses in a quiet, but dangerous tone. I reach my hand out, and touch his arm as a way to calm him.
“I’m fine Daws. Just take me home,” I say somberly. For once, Dawson doesn’t argue with me; he nods and we walk out the door.
We ride for about an hour, stopping at one of the highway rest stops that have food and gas stations. I get off the bike while Dawson fuels it up.
“Jesus, Daws. Couldn’t you have switched seats before coming to get me? My ass is on fire! I feel like I've been sitting on a brick for the last hour.”
“Seriously woman, you gonna bitch about a seat? I just spent the last few hours riding to come get your ass, and now you want to bitch? Why don’t you tell me why the fuck I had to come get you? Or why you left with that motherfucker in the first place? Huh Maura?” Old Maura would have had a spitfire comeback for Daws right now, but I just don’t have it in me.
“Sorry Daws. You’re right.” I look down at the ground not wanting to make eye contact. “Can you just get me home?”
“Fine. Get back on the bike, but we will talk about this shit.”
We get back to the clubhouse pretty quickly considering the speeds that Daws rode. I was relieved when Dawson took me straight to the clubhouse. I don’t really think that I can face my cottage right now. I'm sure that there is no trace of the bloodshed that went on there, but I can’t face it because memories of Corbin and me will be everywhere. I close my eyes at the thought, pushing any images of Corbin out of my head.
“Mickey won’t be back for a day or two, he had business.” Dawson tells me as we walk into the clubhouse. I walk over to the bar, Big Titty Rhonda is bartending.
“Give me a bottle.” I order. She raises an eyebrow at me in a questioning way.
“Did I stutter?” She hands me a bottle of Wild Turkey. This is usually a favorite of mine, but Wild Turkey was what I drank
with him and I’m not going there right now.
“No, give me Jack.”
I know that Dawson is watching me. I owe him an explanation, but I’m not there yet. I feel his eyes on me as she hands me the bottle. I take it and walk down the hallway to my room. I don’t care that Dawson is following me. I walk in, sit on my bed, open the bottle of Jack and slam it back. In several large gulps I have just taken a third of the bottle down. I welcome the burn as it slides down my throat. Daws grabs the bottle from me, takes a swig, then sets it down on the nightstand.
“You gonna talk now?” It’s a question, but he says it as more of a demand. I grab the bottle off the nightstand and tilt my head back gulping down more of the Jack Daniels.
“Jesus, woman. Slow the fuck down!”
I’m trying to decide what to tell Dawson. If I tell him that Corbin was using me, I'm sentencing Corbin to death. Doesn’t Corbin deserve that from me? I need to sit on this for a while and think about it. I'm not going to make any rash decisions. I also can’t let anything happen to the club because of me.
With no emotion, I turn to Daws, “I’ll drink however quickly I want to drink. Corbin just wasn’t who I thought he was. I made a mistake.”
I start to feel my insides numb even more from the alcohol. I take the bottle to my lips again urging the warm dark liquid to take away my knowledge, wishing I could go back a week and forget. Is that all it’s been? A week? I feel so different. Life was a lot easier a week ago. Simpler. I may have never been touched the way I needed to be or felt things that I've felt, but that would be a whole lot easier than having known the loss. Now, I just hope to drown in Jack. Dawson grabs the bottle from me and takes another swig of it.
“You’re damn right you made a mistake. Prancing around here telling anyone who would listen that you were his. You’re not his. You ain't never been his.” If Dawson only knew how true his words were.
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