by Regina Frame
I rolled to a stop alongside my bike and shut the engine off. She was home, because her Mustang was parked in the garage. Relief washed over me, because I wouldn't have blamed her if she'd packed her shit and left.
My shoulders slumped as I hung my head. I felt ashamed, and I was pretty sure my friends were ashamed for me.
I stepped through the door just off the kitchen and tossed my keys in the dark wooden bowl that I'd placed there for that very reason. It collected all the shit that ended up in my pockets by the end of the day.
Taking a deep breath, the aroma of something sweet and chocolatey wafted from the kitchen.
The sounds of glass clinking together echoed down the hall. Honor must have been baking. The smell of warm chocolate chip cookies wafted through the air and made my stomach rumble.
My heart constricted as I stood in the doorway and watched her plate the homemade goodness. It brought back sweet memories of the night we baked gingerbread cookies over the holidays, and the endless laughter we shared. My eyes ran over her silky blonde hair that was pulled up on top of her head in a messy knot. She had on a pale green tank top and a pair of black leggings that showed off her delicate curves. She was beautiful right down to her bare feet and pink toenails.
I gave myself a mental pep talk and braced myself for what was to come. Suck it up and get ready grovel, Roberts. No time like the present. I ran my hand through my hair and gripped the back of my neck.
"Sparkles," I finally managed to say.
Her hand paused midair, a cookie in the palm of her hand. She sighed heavily before placing the cookie on a glass plate and turning to face me. Her eyes were red like she'd been crying. Shit.
"Can we talk?" I asked, and when she didn't respond, I asked again. "Please?" She stared at my feet, rather than meeting my gaze, so I crossed the room and stood before her.
"I am so sorry about yesterday." When she still didn't meet my gaze, I placed a finger beneath her chin and gently tilted her face to mine. "I'm so damn sorry."
"I'm the one who's sorry. I should have never bought you a cake or planned a party. It was my mistake, and I won't be making it again."
I felt like an even bigger ass now. She thought she was in the wrong. Because you made her feel that way, dumbass. She had told me on several occasions how her ex, Trevor, made her feel like she was stupid. He belittled her for the things she did or the choices she made. I was no better than that sorry piece of shit.
"Don't be sorry." Her lips quivered as she looked up at me from under her lashes. "It's not your fault that I have issues with my birthday. I've tried for years to work through those, but there are days that it's just more than I can handle. Yesterday was one of those days." I reached out for her, needing to feel the warmth of her, the silkiness of her skin, but she raised her hands and stopped me. A deep ache set up in my chest. "Please don't do this. Don't push me away." I held my breath as a pained expression moved over her face.
She shook her head and met my eyes this time.
"Don't." Her voice shook and tears pooled in her deep blue eyes. "I thought I could do this with you. I wanted to do this with you so bad, but I can't," she declared, her voice sounding broken. That was exactly what I was afraid of, but it was also what I deserved. "You don't owe me an explanation, because I understand more than you know." Her gaze swung back to me. A tear rolled down her cheek, and I had to restrain myself from reaching out and wiping it away. "I know what it's like to hurt. I understand that pain all too well, so that's why I can't do this with you." Her voice cracked, pain flashing across her face.
My heart dropped to my stomach like a lead balloon. "I think we should keep it on a professional level. We're co-workers whom have developed a pretty good friendship. I think that's where we should leave it."
"Friends," I choked out.
"Friends." Her voice was barely a whisper.
I was willing to take what I could get. If she was still willing to be my friend, I could work toward the rest. Anything to keep her in my life.
"Friends." I gave her a nod. What more could I say? I felt like someone had ripped my heart from my chest and stomped on it. "I'm going to shower and try to catch a few Zs."
I wanted nothing more than to wrap her in my arms and kiss her, feel her silky lips on mine, but that wasn't happening. I'd get some rest, and after a few hours of much needed sleep, I'd work on getting her back.
I turned on my boot and headed for my room. After I showered and brushed my teeth, I slid into bed and stared at the white ceiling overhead. I replayed our conversation over and over in my mind. Friends. That was all I was to her now.
***
Honor
I was still a little shaken by how Chance reacted. All I had wanted was to do something nice for him, but I'd never seen anyone react to a birthday cake the way he had. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. And when we started to sing Happy Birthday, his eyes flamed in anger and he became furious. He transformed into someone that I didn't even know. I thought I'd seen hate behind his green eyes, and it scared me to death.
When he told me I had no right, I wanted to run from the room screaming. It took everything in me to hold back the tears, but when he walked out the door, leaving me standing there holding his damn cake, I gave in. Honesty took the cake from my arms and placed it on the bar. It was a good thing, because my body began to shake uncontrollably. I couldn't stop it. Sweat beaded on my forehead and upper lip, and I swayed on my feet. Once my head started to spin, I knew what was happening. I was having an anxiety attack, and I was helpless against it.
"You alright, sweets?" someone asked as something cold was placed on my forehead.
It felt good. I gathered all the strength I had and opened my eyes. I was lying on the gray sectional in the den. Levi was on his knees beside me, holding the cool towel against my forehead.
"How embarrassing." I groaned and tried to sit up. My body was having none of it, so I stayed put.
"You've got nothing to be embarrassed about, sweets." His deep blue eyes were full of concern. Levi was one of the nicest guys I'd ever met. Whoever won his heart will be one lucky lady. "I'm sorry for what happened tonight. Chance has some deep issues when it comes to his birthday." He shook his head, and his brows dipped down in thought. "He's never told me why. Only that he doesn't celebrate it. I'm sure he'll tell you when he's ready, but just know that you didn't do anything wrong."
When I felt somewhat normal, I sat up and pulled my phone from my pocket. No missed calls and no messages. I guess a part of me was hoping that he'd called to tell me he was sorry, or that he was on his way back to Linc's to get me, but I had nothing.
I took a cab home. I felt embarrassed, ashamed, and a little confused, and what Levi told me didn't make things any better. If I was being honest with myself, I was a little pissed over what had happened. I needed some space to deal with my feelings, and I knew it would be awkward to have one of the guys drive me home.
When I arrived back at the house, it was dark except for the security lights outside. I paid the driver and got out. Just as I expected, he wasn't home. I considered that a good thing, since I'd probably cry again if he were home. I dug the keys from my pocket and let myself in, immediately punching in the security code that he'd given me. The last thing I needed was be a visit from the L. A. P. D. I could just imagine the headlines of the tabloids.
Crazy fan breaks in to Chance Roberts's home to profess her undying love for the rock star.
That would be my luck. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and headed for my room. Not even bothering to change out of my clothes, I fell face down on the bed and cried again. It was times like that, that I would give anything to be able to talk to my mom. Get her advice.
She was always able to make me see things in a brighter light. She was a voice of reason, and no matter what I did or what happened, she never once belittled me or made me feel small. She always took into consideration the other person's feelings.
***
I never heard him come in last night, and, believe me, I listened. Booger had waddled into my room shortly after I went to bed and lied down beside me. He stared up at me with sad puppy dog eyes and a wrinkled face as if to say, "I'm here for you." I patted him on the head and rubbed his ears. Finally, he snuggled into my side and began to snore.
I yawned and checked the clock on the night side table and saw that it was four in the morning. Forcing myself to close my eyes, I finally dozed off.
The next morning, I awoke with a new outlook. My mind was made up. This thing with Chance, whatever it was, had to stop. I had to put an end to it now, before I gave away anymore of my heart.
I had given my college boyfriend my heart, and he'd broken it into a million pieces. It took a long time to put those pieces back together, and from that moment on, I'd guard it with my life. I couldn't go through that again.
So, when he finally walked in, I did what I knew I had to do. I told him we could be friends. A mask of hurt slid over his face as the words sank in.
It killed me to say it, but it had to be done, and the pain in his eyes crushed me to my soul. I'd turned my back after everything was said, and concentrated on the cookies I'd spent all morning baking. I'd dismissed him.
I knew if I continued to look at him, I'd break down. I'd say, "Just forget it. I didn't really mean it." That was how much of a hold Chance Roberts had on me, and it scared me to death.
Chapter Ten
Chance
"Why can't I go with you?"
I followed along behind my momma as she walked to the front door. She pulled a cigarette from her purse and stuck it between her red painted lips. I hated it when her lips were red, because my daddy said bad things that made her cry. I didn't like to see my momma cry.
"I'll be back in a few minutes. Your father is in the garage. He'll be out there for a while, so just stay in your room and I'll be back before you know it."
She lit her cigarette and blew out a puff of smoke. I'd seen enough to know what my father did out there, and it frightened me. He always claimed he was working on the old Buick, but what he was really doing was drinking from those blue cans he kept in the old rusty refrigerator out there, and that was never a good thing. Every time he spent time out there, he was always mad when he came in the house. He yelled and screamed at my momma about things I didn’t understand. That was why I wanted to go with her, because what if he decided to come inside before she got back? I knew it was no use, but I asked one more time, hoping, this time, she'd give in.
"Please let me go with you. I'll be good. I won't ask for anything. I'll sit in the car," I pleaded with her.
"Not this time, baby. I'm going to get your birthday cake. Don't you want it to be a surprise?" She lowered her voice and looked around the room nervously. I knew she was making sure my dad hadn't come inside.
My shoulders slumped as I went to my bedroom and closed the door as quietly as I could. I didn’t know how long I'd been in my room, but it was dark out and I was hungry. Surely, my mom was back by now.
It was my birthday, and I wanted cake. I opened my door and ran down the hall toward the kitchen when I tripped and fell flat on my face. My father towered over me and laughed around the cigarette hanging from his bottom lip.
"You're such a klutz."
I pushed to my feet, watching him the whole time through wary eyes.
"Momma!" I called out, but she didn't come. Maybe she didn't hear me. "Momma!" I shouted this time.
"She aint here." He blew out a puff of smoke and pinned me with a hateful glare. "She aint coming back. She said she couldn't stand the sight of you." I felt the tears building behind my eyes, but I did not cry. Crying was for pussies. He leaned over me and blew smoke in my face. I fought the urge to cough, because I knew if I did there would be consequences. I didn't dare make a sound. He pinched the butt between his yellowed thumb and forefinger and snarled at me, bearing his nicotine stained teeth. "Boy, did you take money out of my wallet?" He smelled like an ashtray and stale beer. I shook my head in response, knowing that it wouldn't matter what I said because his mind was made up. It was probably the guy next door who hung out in the garage with him, but it didn’t matter. I was guilty. Always guilty, so I kept my mouth shut. "You're lying to me!" he roared and thumped his ash in my face.
"I-I promise..."
Before I could finish, he stabbed the glowing end of his cigarette to my neck, causing my body to jerk from the pain, but I didn't cry. Not one tear fell, because if it did, he'd make it so much worse. He said only pussies cry, and no kid of his was gonna be a pussy. So I gritted my teeth and willed the pain to stop. That was not the first time he'd done that, and I was sure it wouldn't be the last.
I woke up at 2:00 in the morning, short of breath and wringing wet with sweat. After visiting the children's home, I couldn't get Matt off my mind. The bruise on his face. The broken arm. He was scared, withdrawn, and broken. Broken by those who were supposed to love and care for him. It brought back so many painful memories. Horrible memories. I could relate on so many levels, and no matter how many therapy sessions I'd had, I couldn't rid myself of the nightmares.
I found myself wondering what I was doing there. I was no one's role model. If anything, I was a good example of what not to be. I wasn't worthy of anyone's admiration.
Honor did the right thing by putting me in the friend zone, even though I wasn't worthy of being her friend either.
I threw back the sheet and swung my legs over the side of the bed and stomped to the bathroom. My hands were shaking as I splashed cold water on my face. The man in the mirror stared back at me with hate in his eyes and a look of disgust on his face. I looked like my father, and that was just another reason to hate myself.
Visions of my father had plagued my dreams, my thoughts, for years. The snarl on his face. The stench of alcohol and tobacco on his breath. It was almost as if I could smell it now.
"You will take this whipping like a man," he roared. I didn’t know what I did to make him mad, but I didn't want to do it again. I cowered on the floor and did my best to protect my head as his brown leather belt landed blow after blow.
I scrubbed my hands over my face and pulled at my hair. That had been one of the worst dreams so far. I walked back into my bedroom, scooped up my dirty clothes off the floor, and slid them on before stepping into my boots. Not even taking the time to lace them up, I grabbed my cell off the bedside table, sent a quick text, and left for the bar to do what I did best. To forget, even if it was just for a few hours.
The Neon Rabbit was practically deserted at that hour, which was good for me. Most of the piece of shit papps were off the clock by now, so the chances of turning up on the news were slim to none. I slouched down in a chair closest to the stage and watched as the busty redhead swung around the pole.
"Hey, man," Teake said as he slid onto the vacant chair beside me.
"Thanks for coming, man," I said, nervously tapping my fingers against my leg.
"You had me at tittie bar." He chuckled and eyed the stripper grinding herself against the dirty stage floor. "What can I do for you this fine morning?"
"What have you got on you?" I asked, as I shoved a twenty dollar bill in to the redhead’s barely there thong.
"What are you looking for? I've got some of the world's finest pharmaceuticals," he bragged.
"Stop fucking around and just tell me what you've got," I gritted out.
I was already on edge, and he somehow thought it was a social call. I had news for him. It wasn't. He was there for one purpose and one purpose only, and that was to supply me with my next escape. He was my supplier, plain and simple.
He exhaled a heavy breath.
"I've got some Molly, Xanax, a little H, and some of the best coke this side of Columbia. I've got some pot, too, but my guess is you're looking for an upper. Not a downer."
He hit the nail on the fucking head. I stood from my chair and made my way to the bathroom, knowing he wo
uldn't be far behind. We could've probably made the exchange out on the floor, but I didn't want to risk being seen. It would be my luck that the stripper would turn out to be DEA. I hadn't been to jail for drugs yet, and didn't want to anytime soon.
I already had a wad of money in my hand by the time Teake walked in to the poorly lit bathroom that smelled of vomit and piss. The moment I held the coke in my hand, my muscles began to relax and a feeling of calm spread throughout my body. How fucking pathetic was I?
"You alright, man? You don't look so good," Teake said. He just sold me drugs for fuck sake and now he thought he was my therapist.
"I'm good, man. It's just been a long day. Thanks." I gave him a quick nod and stepped in to an empty stall and slid the lock in place.
I poured some of the white powder on the back of my hand and sucked it up my nose.
A moment later, my eyes rolled back in my head and I swore as the feeling of euphoria filled my body. I felt as if I were light as a feather and didn't have a care in the world.
***
I woke up a few hours later, lying on a worn green sofa in one of the private rooms in the back. It stunk and had cigarette burns on the couch arms. I pushed myself up on my elbows and looked around the room. I was alone. I didn’t remember leaving the bathroom after I snorted that coke. On the plus side, I still had on my clothes.
"He lives," a feminine voice said right after the click of the door shutting.
The redhead. I forced myself to sit up and look at her. I also needed some answers.
"What happened last night?"
"You mean you don't remember, sugar?"