The Hurricane

by Nicole Hart

  Fuck. What was it?

  I cranked up the radio on the drive home, hoping it would drive these feelings away. Metallica blaring in my ears, screaming about going off to never never land usually cleared my head.

  I pulled into my usual parking spot just as the song ended. I grabbed my welding hood and new lense from the passenger side of my truck before I hopped out. I was going to take a quick shower before heading to Nat’s house. As I took the stairs two at a time I noticed an envelope hanging on my door. Probably some newsletter from the apartment manager or some shit. But as I got closer I noticed the writing on the front of the envelope that was taped to the door.

  I ripped the envelope off the door and looked behind me, scanning the parking lot for a familiar vehicle.

  What the fuck?

  I tore it open and a picture fell to the ground, face down. I reached down and picked it up. When I flipped it over, that nervous feeling in my stomach started trying to claw its way out. It was a picture of Natalie and Brooklyn, holding hands and walking down a sidewalk.

  Who took this?

  When was it taken?

  Who was watching them?

  I noticed Natalie wearing her black scrubs and Brooklyn had her backpack on. This was taken at Brooklyn’s school. My heart started to pound harder and my hands started to shake. I looked in the parking lot again, but didn’t see anything or anyone suspicious. The beeping of a text message went off and I grabbed my phone from my front pocket. It was a number I didn’t recognize.

  I’ll fuck your bitch and half pint will call me daddy.

  My entire body started to shake uncontrollably. I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking kill him.

  I closed the message on my phone before going to my recent contacts and hit call.

  “Ryker, what’s up?” Cain asked when he answered.

  “Book it,” I said, my voice shaking so much the words were almost inaudible.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, seeming confused.

  “I’m going to kill that mother fucker,” I said before walking through my front door and throwing my phone against the wall, then letting out a blood curling scream as I walked into the spare room of my apartment, taking my temporary frustration out on the bag.

  Johnson was next.

  Drowning

  “Where is he?” I mumbled to myself as I looked out the window for at least the tenth time.

  I walked back into the kitchen staring at the chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes that had gotten cold an hour ago. I finally gave Brooklyn her dinner so she could get to bed. I reassured her that Ryker was probably stuck at work, but I could see the concern on her face. But she reluctantly ate alone at the table and had since gone to bed. My stomach was a ball of nerves; there’s no way I could force food down if I tried. The smell was starting to make me nauseous.

  “Screw it,” I whispered as I dumped the food into the trash can. I sent him a text an hour ago asking if he was ok. He read the text, but didn’t respond. I wanted to call and check on him but I didn’t want to sound needy. But he was always on time, for everything. He was so punctual it was almost funny sometimes. So what was different tonight?

  Just as I was finishing loading the dishwasher, I heard his truck pull into the driveway. My heart almost leapt into my chest. My thoughts were being pulled in two different directions. It went from “Thank God he’s here,” to “Where has he been?” I heard a light tap on the front door.

  “Hey,” I said as I answered the door, trying to smile, but the look on his face made me nervous. His eyes were dark and his jaw was flinching. He looked pissed, and worried, and sad, all at the same time.

  “Hey,” he said quietly, and slammed his lips against mine, which I was thankful for, wrapping my arms around him. But his kiss was different. It wasn’t soft and gentle, it was rough and needy.

  “Are you ok?” I said as I pulled away from him, trying to make eye contact with him, but he wouldn’t look at me. Something was definitely going on with him.

  “Come inside,” I said as I grabbed his hand, and I noticed a little flinch. I glanced down at his hand and saw that it was red. His knuckles were raw and swollen.

  “Did you get in a fight?” I asked, looking back and forth between his face and his hand. He didn’t respond; he simply shook his head. Why won’t he look at me? What did he do?

  “Ryker, talk to me!” I begged. I just wanted to make sure he was ok.

  “I’m fine,” he said as he walked past me and sat on the couch, running his fingers through his hair quickly, and then scratching his beard, his left leg bouncing up and down. I walked over to the couch, sitting beside him, curling my legs underneath myself. I just stared at him, waiting for him to talk to me or even look at me.

  “What happened to your hand?” I said as I ran my fingers over his arm and then noticed his other hand looked the exact same.

  “Just the bag.” he said, hoarsely.

  “Baby, why didn’t you use tape, like you usually do?” I asked, running my hand over his bouncing leg, hoping to calm him from whatever was going on.

  “I don’t know,” he whispered, and then reached his arm around the small of my back, pulling me into his lap. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. I could feel his heart pounding against me as I rubbed the back of his neck with my nails, trying to soothe him.

  “I wish you would talk to me,” I whispered against his neck.

  “Just stay right here,” he replied.

  I felt his phone buzz in his pocket. I figured he would ignore it, but he shoved his hand in his pocket, pulling it out quickly.

  “Yeah,” he said into the receiver.

  “Hey bro,” I could hear on the other end. It was Cain, his voice was very distinguishable.

  “When?” Ryker mumbled.

  “Next Saturday,” I heard, straining to hear, knowing I shouldn’t be nosy, but if he wasn’t going to open up to me, what choice did I have?

  “Fuck, ok,” Ryker responded, and ended the call, shoving his phone back in his pocket. He let out a loud sigh.

  “What’s next Saturday?” I asked. I didn’t care that he knew I listened to his conversation; I needed to know what was going on with him.

  “I have to go to Austin,” he said as he stared over my shoulder.

  “For what? Is everything ok?” I asked. I didn’t want to remind him that my parents were coming into town then, and we had already made plans on them meeting. But I suddenly felt defensive, and a little angry, that he was so determined to shut me out. I climbed off his lap and sat next to him, my arms crossed over my chest, feeling the need to protect my heart. He stood to his feet, keeping his back to me, as he put his hands on his head.

  “Ryker, please?” I begged. I needed to know what the hell was going on. This wasn’t the Ryker I knew. This man was cold and distant, and I didn’t like it, not one bit.

  “I have a fight,” he said without turning around.

  “What?” I choked out, leaping to my feet, standing behind him.

  “You’re fighting that dickhead from the restaurant? I don’t understand,” I said, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in my throat.

  “It’s something I have to do,” he said flatly, staring at the ceiling, and rolling his neck.

  “You put that behind you, remember?”

  “I know,” he said.

  “You told me that lifestyle was dangerous. It’s illegal, Ryker, don’t do this!” I begged, putting my hand on his back, but he was like a stone wall. Cold.

  “I don’t have a choice, Natalie,” he said as he whipped around to face me, grabbing my face with his cold hands, his eyes so full of pain. I backed away from him, suddenly feeling like I couldn’t catch my breath.

  “You always have a choice, Ryker. I can’t . . . please don’t do this,” I continued to beg him.

  Brooklyn.

  Brooklyn.

  Brooklyn.

  “I have to do this,” he said staring down at me, his ey
es burning through my soul.

  “No you don’t,” I said, my lips quivering, shaking my head, and quickly brushing away the tear that fell.

  “I’m fighting,” he said. His decision was made.

  Two words that would destroy us.

  “Please go,” I whispered, turning my back to him this time. I didn’t want him to see the tears falling from my eyes. I couldn’t stop them.

  “Natalie,” he whispered.

  “Please,” I said quietly, my throat feeling as if it were about to close up.

  I heard his footsteps fade away, and the door opened and then closed quietly. I walked over to the front door, placing my cheek against it, listening to the roar of his truck until I couldn’t hear it anymore. I slid down the door, landing on my ass, and then curling my knees against my chest.

  I can’t be with him. I knew this. He chose a world that I couldn’t expose Brooklyn to. As much as I cared for Ryker, Brooklyn was my top priority. I couldn’t allow her to be involved in that world. I had to protect her. That was my job. He knew I couldn’t be with him if he got back into that lifestyle. Why didn’t he care enough? Why did he choose that world over me? Over us?

  I let the tears fall. I couldn’t control them, anyway. I thought I knew him. I did, didn’t I? He was so great, and did all the right things. He said all the right things. I let him in. I never let anyone in. How could I be so stupid? Brooklyn was going to be devastated. My chest felt tight and I felt like I was drowning. I couldn’t breathe. I grabbed my chest, begging my heart not to hurt. Begging the pain to go away.

  I finally pulled myself off the floor and went to the couch. I could still smell him on the cushion, which tightened the knot in my stomach. I felt like vomiting, but I couldn’t move. So I just curled into a ball and felt the pain wash over me, cover me, consume me.

  How could he choose that world over us?

  Son of a bitch.

  He chose.

  Numb

  The sound of a loud buzzing noise and metal slamming together jerked me awake. What the fuck? Where am I?

  “Hamilton! Let’s go!” I heard a deep voice yell my name. I wanted to fucking punch him, my head was pounding.

  “Hamilton!” he repeated, and I tried opening my eyes, everything so fucking bright. I finally pried them open and took in my surroundings. Bits and pieces of last night running through my mind. How the fuck did I end up in a jail cell? I stood to my feet and looked down at the orange jump suit I was wearing.

  Fuck.

  “You’re more than welcome to stay if you want,” the cop said with a laugh as he propped his arm on the opened bars.

  “No thanks,” I mumbled as I walked past him, unsure of where to go.

  “Your belongings are in that plastic bag, get changed, then I’ll buzz you out the door.” he said, shaking his head at me, and closing the bars behind me.

  A few minutes later, I walked through the doors into the blinding sun and saw Cain standing near a bench a few feet away.

  “How did you know I was here?” I said as I looked around, not even knowing how I got here.

  “Connection in the department,” he said. No surprise there.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “You mean getting in a bar fight and putting the bouncer in the hospital? Or kicking out the headlight of a cop car while you were already handcuffed?” He said with a deep chuckle.

  “Shit, I’m gonna get put on fucking probation again,” I mumbled, vaguely remembering both of those incidences, at the mention of them. My temper had gotten me in trouble in my early twenties, but I had really worked on keeping that shit under control outside of my fights.

  “Nah, you wouldn’t believe what people forget about when money is thrown in their face,” he said with a smirk.

  “Thanks man,” I said, hating that Cain had to bail me out of my shit.

  “Don’t thank me, I’m taking my cut back,” he laughed as he started his Escalade.

  “Fair,” I mumbled.

  “What caused all this?” he asked.

  “I told Natalie I was fighting, and she’s done with me,” I said, rubbing my hands over my forehead, trying to erase the memory of the look on her face when I told her.

  “How did Johnson convince you?” he asked. My eyes darted to Cain, knowing I was about to beat the hell out of him if he started this shit.

  “Brother, I know you. He did something to make you decide to fight. What was it?”

  “This,” I said pulling the folded up picture from my back pocket and showing him.

  “What the fuck? He’s watching them,” he said, his jaw tightening with his words.

  “He’s going to pay,” I said, my body getting tense again, causing my throbbing headache to escalate.

  “Absolutely,” he replied.

  We drove in silence for a few minutes as the choppy memories from last night started coming back to me. As soon as I left Natalie’s, I stopped and grabbed a bottle of Jack, then was determined to make my way to Austin to find Johnson. I remembered running out of liquor and stopping at the shitty bar outside of town. I remembered the bartender cutting me off, so I jumped the bar to get it myself. Fuck, I was being a dick. That’s when the bouncer decided to intervene. The rest was kind of a blank. Unfortunately, that’s what happens when I get pissed off. I go crazy and black out. It scared me sometimes, knowing that I lose control. I didn’t want to be like that.

  Natalie.

  Fuck, the look on her face when I told her I was fighting. I broke her. She’s been through so much in her life, and I added to her pain. I wanted to explain why I was fighting, but I couldn’t. It would scare her and make everything worse. At least this way, she just hated me. She didn’t have to add fear on top of it. They were both going to hate me.

  She thinks I just want to fight. She doesn’t understand I need to protect them from bad things, bad people. But ending up in a jail cell, with hardly any memory of the night before, probably puts me on the list with the bad people. She deserves better than me. They both do. But I would still protect them; until my last fucking breath, I would protect them.

  “You need to focus, Ryker,” Cain said, interrupting my thoughts.

  “What?” I asked, staring at him.

  “Stay out of the bars, and train. Take all that fucking aggression out on Johnson.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m serious Ryker. You need to spend every second you’re not working in the gym.” He was being my coach now. Fuck.

  “Dude. I know what I’m doing,” I said to him, staring a fucking hole through the side of his head.

  “Don’t let him get in your head; that’s when you will fuck up,” he said as he glanced in my direction, making his way through Austin morning traffic.

  “I won’t. I’m going to fuck his world up, Cain.”

  “There’s the Hurricane,” Cain said as he patted my shoulder.

  “Fuck you, Cain,” I grumbled, rubbing my shoulders, the tension creeping up to my throbbing head.

  “You don’t think she will forgive you? Get over it?” he asked.

  “Nah, she knows too much about it.”

  “Well, that was a mistake then, brother.”

  “Not now,” I said, trying to keep myself calm. But he was probably right. I should have never let Natalie know how fucked up the game could be.

  “I need you to make sure she’s protected,” I said, and stared at him.

  “Done.”

  “But I really think Johnson is just running his mouth,” he said after a few seconds.

  “That’s not a chance I’m willing to take,” I said.

  “Understood.”

  We pulled into Crave and I saw my truck parked in the almost empty lot. I felt my pockets, realizing I didn’t have my keys.

  Fuck.

  Cain opened the console between us and handed me my keys.

  “Thanks bro,” I said as we pulled up next to my truck.

  “Get some rest, then get to the
gym,” he said as I opened the door and climbed out of his SUV.

  “But take a shower first, you smell like a fucking brewery.” He chuckled.

  “Fuck you,” I said with a smirk, and slammed the door.

  He pissed me off sometimes, but he always wanted what was best for me. He was a good brother, even if he needed to get punched in the mouth every once in a while.

  Broken

  “Hey sister,” Emily said as she picked up the phone on the second ring.

  “Hey,” I said quietly, without finding the need to cover my sadness. I didn’t have to with Em.

  “Sweetie, it’s 4 a.m. your time, you should be sleeping,” She said.

  “I tried, I can’t!” I whined, throwing my head back on my pillow, staring into the darkness.

  “You still haven’t heard from him?” she asked, sadly.

  “No, it’s been four days. I’m constantly waiting for him to call or show up at my door and tell me he changed his mind. But I don’t think it’s going to happen.” My voice cracked and the tears started to flow again. Shit. This had been happening for days now. When were they going to stop?

  “I’m sorry,” Emily said quietly.

  Emily sat in silence for a few minutes as I sob and sniff, trying my hardest to suck it up, but it’s not working so easily. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep that’s making everything worse, but I wasn’t expecting the emotional toll this was taking on me.

  “Sorry,” I whispered when I was finally able to speak, clearing my throat.

  “Have you told Brooklyn yet?”

  “No, I don’t know what to say. I’ve been making excuses, just telling her he’s busy with work. She keeps asking to call him. Damn it, Em, this is hard.” I cried out, the tears falling again.