Our Last Road

by London Casey

  I reached for his thick shoulder. “I am, but it’s not all about taking without asking. It’s about loyalty and appreciating that.”

  I wasn’t sure if I was exactly talking to Brutus or talking to myself. A humbling reminder of the hell that had been back in St. Skin a few years back.

  I reached into my pocket and took out two envelopes.

  “For you two,” I said. “Not sure what you consider a lot of money to be. Or how long it will last you. But it’s my way of saying thanks.”

  “You didn’t have to do this,” Tiny said.

  “I did it anyway,” I said.

  Brutus opened the envelope and raised an eyebrow. “Wow. You sure about this, Sawyer?”

  “Checks are cut. Signed. Delivered.”

  Tiny stood up. “Angel has a class thing today. We’re making chameleons with paper plates and camouflaging them with another plate behind it or something.”

  “Right,” I said. I stood up too. Brutus did the same. “Stick around for another five minutes? Take some pizza home for your daughter.”

  “I think we can eat just fine tonight,” Tiny said and waved the envelope.

  I stuck my hand out. “You got it. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  Tiny laughed. “Yeah. See you around.”

  Tiny walked away.

  I looked at Brutus and he had a look about him. I smiled. “He’s your ride, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah,” Brutus said. “So, I, uh…”

  “You have to get going too. Right.”

  We shook hands and I thought Brutus was going to break every bone in my hand. It amazed me how he could be so strong without knowing it yet handle giving a tattoo with gentle grace.

  I rubbed my jaw as Brutus walked to catch up to Tiny.

  From the corner of my eye I saw the waitress carrying the freshly baked pizza toward me. I already had a plan in mind to offer her a slice… of the pizza and me.

  But there was one thing I knew for sure.

  I would never see Tiny or Brutus again.

  3.

  I sat on the large rock and listened to the waves crashing to the shore. I had a beer bottle resting between my legs. Becky had her head on my shoulder, hugging my right arm. She was almost like a dream the way she sat there with her bleach blonde hair dancing against the sea breeze. A thin white shirt that moved the same, revealing a bikini that was more like a piece of lingerie than something you’d swim in.

  My plan for the waitress had almost been perfect.

  I got her to smile. Take a slice. Give me her number. And here we were, sitting on a rock at the beach at night, drinking a few beers. Things were supposed to progress but damn, I sat there and just stared out to the dark night.

  “What are you thinking about?” Becky whispered to me.

  “Everything,” I said.

  I lifted the beer bottle to my lips and took a drink for about two seconds before Becky pulled my hand away, spilling beer on my jeans. She grabbed my face and inched up until her lips touched mine.

  There was nothing quite like the taste of a woman’s lips. More dangerous than whiskey, that’s for sure. I sucked in a breath and touched her face, knowing exactly where this should end up going. See if I could make her moan louder than the waves hitting the rocks.

  But she broke the kiss and smiled. “You should go to her, Sawyer.”

  “What?”

  “Whoever it is you’re thinking about right now.”

  Becky turned and slid off the rock. Her black sandals were on the beach and she stepped into them.

  “Hey, wait a second,” I called out.

  She turned and the wind caught her hair again. She was a beach beauty for sure. Long legs, everything tight, her smile addictive, and that open white shirt blowing back showing off a body that my tongue craved to taste.

  “Have a good night,” I said to her.

  “See you around,” she said and started to walk away.

  When Becky was out of sight, I realized I still had four beers to drink.

  Waste the six pack and fall asleep right there on the beach.

  Then I could wake up and shake it all off and go back to whatever version of normal I wanted to explore that day.

  But when I looked up and saw the stars, my heart twisted.

  I had been quiet long enough.

  It was time for me to head back to Hundred Falls Valley and take what was mine.

  My tattoo shop - St. Skin.

  And Kate’s heart.

  THREE

  KATE

  1.

  I poured fresh hot coffee into Jonesy’s cup and he nodded.

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Ma’am,” I said with an eye roll. “We’re the same age. Don’t give me that crap.”

  He laughed. “I knew that would get you going. You look tired.”

  “I’m beat up,” I said. “Jason wasn’t feeling good last night. Had a slight fever. Maggie is watching him for me now and if he feels any worse I’m taking him to the doctor.”

  “Damn,” Jonesy said. “Sick kid, huh? I don’t have experience there. You could probably talk to Cass or Diem though.”

  “For what? Kids get sick all the time. Just hard when you’re going it all alone, you know? I can’t exactly just call off sick. No work, no money.”

  Jonesy nodded and frowned.

  I hated that look. The pity look. The look where someone wanted to remind you that you may have screwed up your life, but they couldn’t say it because that would be insulting Jason, who was just an innocent young kid trying to enjoy his life.

  In a way, I wanted to do the same. Work, pay the bills, and simply survive.

  Jonesy leaned back and reached into his pocket and took out some cash. He put way more than needed on the counter.

  “Hell no,” I said and put two fingers to the money and slid it back. “I’m not taking this.”

  “Kate…”

  “Police don’t pay here,” I said.

  “This is your tip.”

  “No,” I said. “You’re not going to hear me tell a sob story and then throw cash at me.”

  “I didn’t throw it. I placed it on the counter.”

  I wasn’t amused. I slid the money back and walked away. “I’m not taking that.”

  I made sure to call it out as I walked away so Jonesy wouldn’t respond.

  When I saw who came into the small diner, I rolled my eyes even more.

  His name was Dennis but everyone called him Dirt. To him that was a cool name, but he was a rough and tough kind of guy who loved to pick fights with the guys from St. Skin. Of course, I was linked to St. Skin in more than one way and Dirt loved to remind me of it and give me a hard time.

  As I turned the corner around a booth, I realized something.

  There was a table of St. Skin guys here.

  Maddox and Zayne were having a couple burgers. Zayne was facing the way to look right at Dirt. Now those two personally didn’t have much heat since Zayne was still considered somewhat of a new guy. But I still didn’t like it.

  I grabbed a menu for Dirt as he strutted around with his chain hanging from his jeans to his back pocket. His ripped up jeans, black boots, tight gray t-shirt showing off his muscles. He was scruffy and looked mean as hell. I wanted nothing to do with him; he wanted to do everything with me.

  I paused after a few steps and took a deep breath.

  It was only a matter of time before punches were going to be thrown.

  2.

  Dirt didn’t even sit down before he looked at the table with Zayne and Maddox.

  I tried to get Jonesy’s attention, as a precaution.

  “What are those losers doing here?” Dirt asked.

  “Eating,” I said. “Just like you. So everyone just be losers and keep your mouths shut.”

  “Aw, that’s cute, babe,” Dirt said. “Protecting your cubs over there. Like a good mama bear.”

  “You keep looking over here,” Zayne called out to Dirt. �
�Something going on?”

  Maddox turned and laughed. “Hey, it’s Dirt. What are you doing here? Looking for the leftovers? Check out back.”

  “Nah, I’m just here for a fresh meal,” Dirt said. He reached for my arm and started to stroke it.

  I moved my arm away and thought about slapping him. But I didn’t want to get fired. I couldn’t lose the job.

  I gritted my teeth. “Sit down or leave.”

  “Why don’t you leave with me?” Dirt asked.

  “Why would anyone leave with you?” Maddox asked. “She’s not drinking, and there isn’t enough booze in the world to make someone that stupid.”

  “Yeah?” Dirt asked. “Why don’t you ask your pretty girl and her little camera?” Dirt pretended to take a picture and laughed. “Fuck, bro, I’ll give her something she’ll never forget.”

  I winced.

  I knew that was going to be it.

  One thing about the guys at St. Skin, when they fell in love, they fell hard and they protected their love. Their hearts were made of black and stone - trust me, I would know - but once you were in, you were secured for life.

  Maddox threw himself out of the booth.

  I put my hands out, realizing how small I was between Maddox and Dirt.

  Zayne didn’t even bother to stand up. Instead, he grabbed his burger and took another bite.

  What a cocky asshole.

  I looked left to right.

  The diner was half full.

  Everyone knew St. Skin and the guys.

  “Come on,” I said. “Dirt, get out of here. Maddox, go back to eating.”

  “Kate, you need to move, sweetheart,” Maddox whispered. “I’m going to turn his face into scrambled eggs.”

  “Why make him look better?” Zayne called out.

  I didn’t mean to laugh but I did.

  Dirt reached for me again. He touched my arm and I started to swing my hand at him. Before I could get there though, Maddox punched him. The two of them collided together, tangled up with fists, muffled words, and a fight I stood no chance breaking up.

  It took Jonesy only a few seconds to get there, but both Maddox and Dirt had each landed a couple punches.

  Jonesy grabbed Maddox and pulled him away, ordering him to stop or else. Jonsey turned and grabbed for his cuffs, slapping them on Maddox’s wrists in seconds. I shook my head, wondering how many times a set of cuffs had been on the wrists of someone from St. Skin.

  Dirt started to laugh, sounding like a weasel cackling sound. I turned but someone had me beat to hitting him. It was Beverly, a waitress of twenty years at the diner who had taken on everything from late night drunks to motorcycle clubs to the guys at St. Skin. She had a rolled up real estate magazine that we gave away for free at the front of the diner. She swung it and smacked Dirt across the face.

  “Not in my diner!” she yelled. She slapped him again. “You hear me?”

  Dirt covered his face. “Hey! Stop that!”

  She whacked him in the shoulder.

  Beverly was five-foot-nothing but she was as fierce as anything.

  She lifted the magazine again and stuck it under Dirt’s chin. He put his hands up in defeat.

  “Okay, okay,” he said. “I’m sorry. Okay?”

  “Not here,” she said. “Go find somewhere else to eat lunch.”

  “Seriously?”

  Beverly brought the magazine back for another hit.

  Dirt jumped away. “Okay, fine!”

  “Make sure you give Kate a tip for her inconvenience,” Beverly said.

  Dirt reached into his pocket and threw a crumpled up ten on the table. Then he turned and hurried out of the diner.

  I was normally against taking dirty money like that, but screw it. I grabbed the ten and tucked it into my apron.

  “Thanks for that,” I said to Beverly.

  Jonesy turned Maddox around, still cuffed.

  “What was that for?” I asked Maddox.

  Before he could answer, Beverly smacked him across the face with the magazine. “Idiots! You’re all idiots!”

  “Beverly, that’s enough,” Jonesy said. “Don’t make me arrest you.”

  “I’ll smack you next,” she said.

  My eyes went wide. Jonesy stood there in full police uniform and she was threatening to hit him.

  Maddox flexed his jaw. “Well, she hits harder than Dirt does.”

  “Damn right I do,” Beverly said. She dropped the real estate magazine to the table and walked away.

  “What now?” I asked Jonesy.

  “Nothing,” he said. He looked at Maddox. “You going to sit down like a good boy and eat your lunch now?”

  Maddox curled his lip. “Really?”

  Jonesy let out a chuckle and took the cuffs off Maddox’s wrists.

  “I guess the excitement is done here,” Jonesy said. “I’m heading out. If Dirt comes back and causes trouble-”

  “I’ll call you,” I said.

  “No,” Jonesy said. “Call Beverly. She’ll straighten him out.”

  He gave a wink and left the diner.

  I walked to the table where Maddox and Zayne sat.

  “Refill?” Zayne asked and shook a glass of ice.

  “Get it yourself,” I said. “Idiots.”

  “Hey,” Maddox said. “You know he had that coming. Touching you like that. Running his mouth. He was lucky Tate wasn’t here.”

  “You’re lucky Jason wasn’t here,” I said. “Imagine if he saw that. After all he’s been through.”

  “You’re right,” Maddox said. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Now finish up and get out of here,” I said.

  “Yes, boss,” Maddox said.

  I swatted his shoulder. “Tell Tate to give me a call too.”

  “Why can’t you call him?” Zayne asked.

  “Don’t ask,” Maddox said. “History.”

  “Oh,” Zayne said. “Lovers’ drama?”

  “You’re definitely on your own with that refill now,” I said and walked away.

  Lovers’ drama? Nobody knew the half of it…

  3.

  I opened the apartment door after wrestling with it for a few seconds. My routine. The landlord had been there three times to fix the door which meant hammering it, spraying it with some nasty smelling stuff, and telling me it was fine.

  I shut the door and locked it.

  Sighing, I was home.

  Not the home I dreamed of, but it was better than living on the street. Especially with a young child to take care of.

  Maggie stood at the sink, washing a bowl.

  She hurried to shut off the water and dry her hands.

  “Hey,” she said. “I made some mac and cheese for Jason. There’s some leftover if you want.”

  I lifted my hand, holding a shopping bag full of containers of food. Beverly insisted I take comfort food for Jason and for myself.

  “Ah, you got dinner,” Maggie said. “Well, it’s still on the stove.”

  “Thank you,” I said. I put the bag on the table and dropped my keys. I grabbed my apron and spread the cash on the table. I mentally calculated how much I owed Maggie.

  She was a graphic designer and owned her own business, but helped me on the side. It was win-win because I trusted her and it was a heck of a lot cheaper than paying for daycare.

  I left a small pile of money on the table and shoved the rest back in the apron.

  “Take some food,” I said. “Or sit and have a bite to eat with me.”

  “Mommy?” a voice croaked from across the apartment.

  Maggie frowned. “He missed you today.”

  “How’s he feeling?”

  “The same as before,” Maggie said. “No fever, thankfully. Just tired.”

  “Probably needs a warm bath and some sleep,” I said.

  “You or him?” she asked.

  “Both.”

  “I can stay if you want. Help out and…”

  “No,” I s
aid. “You do enough as it is, Maggie. I shouldn’t ask so much of you.”

  She laughed. “How long have we known each other?”

  “Long enough, I suppose.”

  Maggie and I met in community college, where I was studying to become a graphic designer, just like her. But then came St. Skin, a few personal situations, and the surprise of Jason. Maggie moved forward and I moved backward in life. And there was nothing I could do about it now.

  “Mommy?” Jason’s voice called from his bedroom again.

  “I better go,” I said.

  “Me too. I have client work.” Maggie had an excited look on her face.

  “That’s awesome. I hope it’s a big one.”

  “It’s work, so I’ll take it.”

  “Hey, have you ever thought about St. Skin?”

  “Tattooing? I don’t think I could do that.”

  “You could always learn,” I said.

  Maggie touched my arm. “So could you. You were always better than me at drawing and designing.”

  I rolled my eyes again.

  I wondered how many times a day I rolled my eyes, and how many times it would take before my eyes would just stick in the back of my head.

  Maggie left without taking any food and I went to check on Jason.

  He sat up in his bed in his small room and smiled big when he saw me.

  “You’re home,” he said.

  “Of course I am. Where…”

  I didn’t bother asking.

  Jason had bad separation anxiety when it came to me leaving for anything. Which I could understand. And I never brought it up to him. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to bring it up or not. There were about two million parenting questions and I had no clue what the right answers were.

  Jason’s room was a full of toys and superheroes. I cringed at the mess but I loved he was still so innocent. Rubber snakes coiled up, floppy tongues dangling. Dinosaurs on top of a small toy chest. He knew every dinosaur and all their traits. There was a bucket of sharks and another bucket of all his action figures.

  “Did you have fun with Maggie?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Sort of?” I asked, laughing.

  Sometimes talking to Jason was like talking to a little man, not a kid.

  I crouched and slid a small pile of toys out of the way so Jason wouldn’t step on anything in case he needed to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.