Take It - Part Two

by DJ Stone

  “I like seeing you smile.” Pierce laughs. “Even if it’s just because of a meatball sub.” He looks down at his watch and groans. “I’ll finish up on this door while you eat. Then I have to head out. I’ll pick you up tonight.”

  Nodding my head, I look at the enormous sandwich in front of me as if it were a diamond ring. Like I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life. I glance at Pierce who’s on his knees repairing the front door, then back at my sandwich. I have a real lunch, a date and a heartbeat. That’s not a bad start.

  Chapter Seven

  Going on a date with one sneaker and a walking boot isn’t exactly sexy, but Pierce and Tracey have already seen me at my worst. They’ll be able to look past it. My black sweater and jeans are better than anything I’ve worn for the last few days, so while it’s not what I’d normally wear to a trendy bar, it’ll have to do.

  “Are you sure you’re up to going out?” my mother asks tentatively as she looks me over. “You’re barely recovered.”

  “I’m feeling great, Mom. It will do me good to see Tracey, and I think you’ll really like Pierce. He’s a nice guy. Remember he saved my life; he isn’t going to let anything happen to me.”

  “I just don’t want you doing too much too soon. I was going to pop some popcorn for us tonight and braid your hair like I used to while we watched a movie.” The sadness dancing at the corners of my mother’s eyes pulls at my heart, but I can’t imagine anything worse than the night she just described.

  Headlights coming up the driveway light the kitchen, and I feel like the cavalry is arriving. Just one more time Pierce is rescuing me.

  “I suppose you’re running out there now?” my mother asks with a pout.

  “Pierce will come in and say hello. He’s an old-fashioned guy. I told you, you’ll like him a lot.”

  “At least I get to meet him. You said I’d like that last guy too and then I never met him. Things were going so well; what happened?”

  “Mom, drop it, Pierce is coming in.” Swinging the side door open I smile as wide as I can. “Pierce, this is my mother. Mom, this is Pierce.”

  “You saved my baby.” My mother sobs, pulling Pierce in for an awkward hug. My face burns crimson red, but Pierce waves me off.

  “It’s nice to meet you. Your daughter was very brave the day of her accident. You would have been proud of her. She was reluctant for me to stay long enough to save her. She told me to leave her there and save myself.”

  Admittedly I don’t remember much about the accident. I’ve been trying to put it out of my mind. But I do remember telling Pierce to go. I remember not feeling worth saving. He might have read it as bravery, but it had more to do with giving up on myself than anything else.

  “We should get going,” I cut in, gently pulling my mom away from Pierce.

  When we’re settled into his pickup truck I take a deep breath. “I’m so sorry about that. She can’t help herself.”

  “I think she’s very sweet. I’d do just about anything for another hug like that from my mom.”

  “Sorry,” I say, biting my lip and feeling like an ass for being so ungrateful again. Pierce must think I’m the biggest brat. I need perspective, and he’s a great source for me. Hopefully I won’t say so many stupid things that he gets sick of me.

  “Don’t be sorry, it’s not like you’re supposed to cure cancer or anything. It’s not your fault it killed her.”

  “Actually—” I say, not knowing where to start. This is supposed to be my way of getting to know Pierce better. I suspect he hopes the same thing from me tonight. So shouldn’t I share? “I’ve been involved with quite a few clinical trials responsible for trying to cure cancer. That was my job. I worked for a firm that organized and oversaw drug trials. I saw some pretty significant advances in my time. It was exciting to know we could be on the brink of something that would change the world.”

  “I didn’t realize that was what you did. A very admirable job. Do you see yourself going back into that field? You sound passionate about it.”

  “No, that part of my life is over. I’ll need to find something else to be passionate about.” I don’t mean that to sound like a come-on, but as it hangs there between us it starts to feel like one. I find Pierce to be more and more interesting by the minute. What type of man lets an opportunity to flirt pass him by? A flutter charges through my heart as I wonder if he is gay. He certainly could be. He’s been nothing but a gentleman, and though he’s thrown a few compliments my way, nothing has indicated he was dying to rip my clothes off. I feel a different energy around him than I’ve ever felt before. Either he’s not attracted to me or he genuinely has the ability to be a human first and a walking penis second. Miraculous.

  He slips his hand over mine and smiles warmly. The heat it sends through my body answers my earlier question. Pierce is not gay. “Don’t give up on something you’re good at so quickly. Sometimes things need a second chance.”

  My mind goes instantly to Harrison and the thought of giving him a second chance. The thought that he might even want one. We stay silent the rest of the ride into the city—aside from giving a few directions to the bar we’re going to.

  “You’re really going to get a kick out of Tracey. She’s fun.” I take my lead from his earlier gesture and slip my arm into his as we stride to the entrance of the bar.

  “Interesting place. You don’t hang out here a lot, do you?” Pierce asks, and the leading nature of his question makes me tell a white lie.

  “No, of course not. I just know this is where Tracey would want to meet up, and it’s easier than dragging her somewhere else.” There is an uncomfortable look on Pierce’s face as we step into the poorly lit bar that’s flashing with neon strobes over the dance floor. It’s only a second before Tracey is pouncing on us.

  “Jenny, you scared the hell out of me. You just fell off the face of the earth. Look at you.” Tracey gestures down to the walking boot on my foot and then runs a cool hand over my cheek near the cut that’s almost healed.

  “I’m fine, really. Just a car accident that I’m lucky to have walked away from.” My gaze turns up toward Pierce, remembering how he climbed inside the hull of my burning car and yanked me out.

  “And this must be the guy I’ve been hearing so much about for weeks. The legend in the flesh,” Tracey coos as she nibbles on the tiny red straw dancing around her blue drink. “I’ve never seen this girl so . . . pleased in her life.”

  I feel a wave of terror-filled nausea overtake me as I realize Tracey thinks the man beside me is Harrison. And judging by the look on Pierce’s face, he realizes he’s not the legend being spoken about. The only person who doesn’t seem to know what’s happening is Tracey, who keeps batting her long lashes at Pierce as she sizes him up, applying every story I’ve told her about our romps to specific parts of his body.

  “Um, this is Pierce, actually. He’s the firefighter who saved me the day of my accident. I wouldn’t be alive right now if it weren’t for him. He’s a real hero,” I cut in before Tracey can dig this hole any deeper. By trying to repair the damage, my assessment of Pierce’s heroism makes everything even more uncomfortable.

  “Whoops,” Tracey giggles, choking on her drink slightly. “Hard to keep up with this girl; you know how it is, right Pierce?” She gives him a wink and nudges me in the ribs, and in an instant this entire thing feels like a terrible idea. I adore Tracey; she is the person who has literally picked me up off the floor and put a drink in my hand on my darkest days. The girl gets me. But I’m guessing she and Pierce might not be quite as compatible. A big miscalculation on my part. My desire to move on may have just turned into a setback.

  “Let’s grab a table,” I offer, trying to break up the torturous tension. “That one over in the corner is open.”

  I have to tug Pierce slightly, and I feel terrible for putting him through this. Obviously, it’s not his scene and now he has to hear those comments from Tracey. Who knows what’s going through his head?
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  “I’ll go get us some drinks. You want the usual, Jenny? How about you, Pierce, you strike me as a scotch man. On the rocks?”

  “I’m good,” Pierce retorts flatly, waving her off. I had meant to shoot Tracey a text about Pierce not drinking to take the awkwardness out of the moment, but I’d totally spaced out.

  “Don’t worry about me buying a drink for you, sweetie. I know some guys think that’s not right, but I don’t buy anyway. The girls here do the buying,” Tracey says, shoving her hands up under her breasts and shifting them slightly as she laughs. Tracey’s already had a few drinks. I can tell by the slight slur in her speech, and normally I’d be keeping pace with her, and laughing my ass off at that joke. Instead my cheeks burn with embarrassment for Pierce.

  “I don’t drink. But I’ll take a water if you’re going up,” Pierce says, clearly just trying to get Tracey to drop her hands from her chest.

  “You don’t drink? Well how are we going to have any fun tonight?” Tracey pouts as she shuffles away with a shrug.

  “I’m so sorry” is all I can squeak out as I cover my face with my hands. “I don’t know what I was thinking coming here tonight.”

  “Everyone has a friend like that. Don’t sweat it. I went to school with plenty of guys who were train wrecks, and you try to hold onto a friendship with them, but at some point you just outgrow it. I can deal with it for a night. You don’t have to apologize to me.”

  Instant relief fills my body, but that last little corner that isn’t filled up by that feeling is marked with a twinge of anger. Tracey isn’t a train wreck. She’s young and fun, and on most nights I’d be right there with her. I don’t want to outgrow her.

  This night turns out to be longer than any I remember in recent history. At least during the long nights in the hospital I had sedatives. Here it’s plagued with very awkward dialogue and two spilled drinks, one of which soaks Pierce’s pant leg. I give him credit he’s been very cool through all of it. But when Tracey crosses the room, tosses her arms around a man on the dance floor, and begins passionately kissing him, Pierce seems to have reached his breaking point.

  “Is she serious right now? Does she even know that guy?” He points across the room and I see Tracey’s legs wrapping around the man as they fall into an empty booth.

  “Probably not,” I shrug, but when Pierce’s face falls flat, I let mine do the same, feeling a little guilty for judging my friend.

  “That’s really dangerous to hook up with random guys and stumble around drunk. Have you talked to her about getting help?” Pierce slides his large warm hand over mine, and the feeling of being connected to someone again overtakes me. I don’t think Tracey really needs any help at all. She’s just trying to make her way through this life as an early thirty-something, single female in a busy city. It’s not easy. But Pierce seems to be genuinely concerned, and I wonder if maybe he’s right. Maybe Tracey has been approaching things all wrong. Maybe we both have. It certainly hasn’t gotten either of us very far.

  “I haven’t really said anything to her. She’s my friend, and it’s not easy being a woman these days. She’s just doing her best.” I know I’m partially talking about myself, making a case to a man who looks at me in a very sincere way. I want to preserve that.

  “That’s no excuse. Women who live this wild lifestyle always get hurt, either physically or emotionally. There isn’t anything good that comes from taking risks like that. Maybe I’ve answered too many domestic calls, but in my experience how you get hurt is a direct reflection of how you live your life.”

  “That sounds an awful lot like blaming the victim. She shouldn’t have dressed so provocatively if she didn’t want to be yanked into that alley and raped.” My tone is harsh, my hand rigid below his. As a woman I take exception to this argument. There is no excuse, ever, to blame a woman for being abused.

  “No, that is the furthest thing from what I mean. If it came out that way, I’m really sorry.” He squeezes my hand, releasing tension from my body. There is no guessing with Pierce, his face is as genuine as any I’ve ever seen, and his apology is sincere. “I wasn’t talking about assault or anything like that. It’s more about men hurting women in general. Some crimes are random, and there is nothing that justifies the actions. But I’ve seen really smart women who don’t guard themselves against the pain that comes from being caught up in the wrong guy. You can’t keep all evil out of your life, but shouldn’t you do what you can to keep as much of it at bay as possible? Being sober helps you do that.”

  I think on that. Did I do everything I could to protect myself from Harrison, or did I blindly dive headfirst into my own desires and neglect everything I knew to be important? Could I have made better choices, lived a purer life, and ended up with different results? Probably. “Sorry, that hits a little too close to home right now,” I choke out, swallowing the lump in my throat. Going into the sordid details with Pierce doesn’t appeal to me at all. I can’t imagine what he’d think of me if he knew what I did with Harrison . . . and where we did it . . . and how often we did it. He wouldn’t give me any more of his time, that’s for sure. If I want to really put Harrison behind me, if I want to actually protect myself from getting hurt, then I need to do it with my eyes wide open and my mouth shut. He doesn’t need to know what thorny and winding path led me here, but maybe he can help me find a better one.

  “Should we give Tracey a lift home?” Pierce asks, craning his neck to keep an eye on her and the man she’s fooling around with in the corner.

  “I don’t think she’ll want one. I can go ask though.” I grab my purse and start shimmying my way out of the booth, but he clutches my arm.

  “Who knows who that jerk is? I’ll go over there. You stay here.” Striding over to the corner booth, he knocks loudly on the table, and both of them quickly sit at attention.

  I can only imagine what is going through Tracey’s head as she stands and walks obediently behind Pierce on their way back to our table. “You want to drive Tracey’s car back to her place, and I’ll follow you guys in my truck?” Pierce asks as he assesses how little of my drink I’ve ingested. Once I got the vibe that drunk girls weren’t his thing, I decided to just push it to the side.

  “Sure,” I smile, and shrug my shoulders as Pierce heads for the door, and Tracey gives me the look of death. She tosses me her keys and when the doors to her tiny car close the silence is broken by her angry voice.

  “What the hell was that? Captain Goody Two-Shoes over there just broke up a damn good make-out session with Will. Or was it Seth? Maybe James, but anyway, what the hell?” Her arms are folded across her chest like a petulant child, and I’m not really sure how to answer.

  “He’s a straight-laced guy, and he was worried you had too much to drink. I think it’s sweet he wanted you to get home safe.”

  “I haven’t gotten any ass in almost a month. I’m finally over the last jerk, and I was ready to get back out there tonight. What kind of caveman is Pierce to think he has any business telling me who I can mess around with? It’s the twenty-first century. I can do who and what I want.”

  “You’re right,” I agree, feeling so grateful that Pierce isn’t here to witness this outburst. “I think he doesn’t get out as much as we do, and he was worried for you. He’s a firefighter and EMT, and he sees a lot of harsh stuff. He wasn’t judging you.”

  “For your sake I hope not because if he’s judging me, then he’s judging you, too. What the hell happened to the guy who was fucking you seven ways to Sunday and fulfilling all your sexual dreams? I’m guessing Pierce isn’t setting your world on fire in the sack. Please tell me you didn’t trade in the sex aficionado for a virgin superhero.” Tracey reaches into her purse and pulls out a cigarette, finishing her sentence with it pressed between her lips.

  “More like he screwed me over. It’s too long a story for tonight, but it has me thinking maybe it’s my own fault. What the hell have I been doing with my life just hanging out at the bar and then acting l
ike a freak with Harrison? I didn’t even tell you everything we did and where we did it. It was downright shameful, and maybe I got what I deserved.”

  “Don’t make me slap you. This manicure is fresh and I don’t want to break a nail, but I’ll do it if you keep that shit up. You are completely worthy of a fantastic sex life, and having one doesn’t mean you deserve getting shit on by some jerk who doesn’t know how good he has it with you. And you don’t need some other guy judging the fact that you let your freak flag fly for a little while.”

  “It’s more complicated than that, Tracey.”

  “So this new guy doesn’t mind that you were getting banged all across the state with some guy who was playing your lady parts like a well-tuned piano?”

  I break out in a laugh at her words. Tracey’s metaphors always get me giggling, and it’s what I love about her. Maybe some people would call her rough around the edges, but her rough edges have always fit pretty well with mine. “I get it,” I admit as I pull up to the front of her apartment and put the car in park. “Do you want me to take you upstairs?”

  “No I wanted that guy at the bar to take me upstairs. I have my good matching bra and panties on and a Brazilian wax that will now go to waste. You can thank your little boyfriend for that.” She stumbles out of the car a bit and then steadies herself, pressing the wrinkles out of her short skirt.

  “Good night, Tracey,” I call over my shoulder as I hop back into Pierce’s truck and try to quiet the confusion in my mind. Pierce made some great points but so did Tracey. Has my lapse in judgment and my animalistic need for pleasure from Harrison caused my downfall? And should I close my legs and open my eyes to make sure it doesn’t happen again?