“Sure. Come on; let’s just get out of here.” I yank the car door open and climb into the backseat of Jeremy’s 1972 Dodge Challenger. It’s a tight squeeze sitting next to Presley and Drake in the back, but we manage to make it work. Jeremy fires up the car and the engine roars to life. We peel out of the parking lot, heading for our side of the tracks.
Reggie
I’m sitting in my office, working on the books for the bar, when my cell phone rings. My stomach drops as the name flashes across the screen. I haven’t spoken to him in six months. Oh, Darcie, why can’t you stay out of trouble?
I let out a deep sigh and then hit the answer button on my phone. “What do you want?”
“That’s no way of answering my call. You’re never happy to speak to me, Reggie.” His voice is dripping with sarcasm.
“That’s because you always want something from me.”
“Fair enough. She’s been suspended for fighting again. You know what this means, don’t you, Reggie?”
“How do you know she’s done anything, Robert?”
“Please, Reggie, you, of all people, should know how well connected I am. Need I remind you of the Vinnie situation?” The conceited tone in his voice oozes through the phone.
I sink my head into my hand and run it through my hair. Every time I turn around, Robert throws what happened to Vinnie in my face. It’s his leverage for payment, insurance I won’t go to the police and tell them what happened the night I found Darcie. Whoever he has in his pockets is fucking with my life and Robert knows it.
I can’t believe she’s done this again. It’s been at least six months since her last fight at school and I don’t know how much longer I can financially bail her out of trouble.
“Yeah, I know. How much?”
“Well, you will need to add an additional two hundred onto your monthly installments.”
My anger ignites, rocking my body to its core. “Two hundred bucks! Are you fucking serious?”
“Dead serious. She’ll be eighteen soon. I need to get what I can before our agreement is up. Reggie, you know what the alternative is if you can’t make the payments. Either way, it’s a win-win situation for me.”
I hear him release a snide laugh as he hangs up the phone. I glance to my computer, quickly checking to see if my budget can handle the inflation in price. I have to make it work for Darcie’s sake. There is no other choice. I have to pay it.
Chapter 3
Darcie
“Godammit, Darcie! Why can’t you just make it through a school year without getting suspended?” Reggie is fuming mad when I walk in the back door. He’s pacing in the kitchen, flexing his large hands in and out, making fists. Reggie is definitely intimidating when he’s in a good mood, but when he’s angry, stay the hell out of his way. His mammoth frame fills our tiny kitchen and it’s time to defuse the situation before he blows even more.
I place my hands on his forearm and look into his aqua blue eyes. With my best doe-eyed expression I whisper, “I’m sorry Reg. That girl just drives me crazy. I saw her bullying a girl”—motioning with my head to Presley who is standing in the doorway, clearly about to pee herself from terror—“and I had to do something. I’m sorry. I’ll worker harder to control my anger.”
“We tried to stop her, Reggie,” Jake pipes in with a smirk on his face.
Reggie lets out a deep sigh and puts his hands on both sides of my face. Looking intently into my green eyes, he makes his point, “You can’t keep this up, Darcie. Promise me now, that you’ll stop this fighting shit.”
The guilt washes over me. “I promise, Reggie.”
I wrap my arms around his hard waist, giving him the tightest hug I can. Reggie drops his hands from my face and drapes his comforting arms around me.
He places a kiss on top of my head. “Get the hell out of here. You’re such a pain in the ass.”
I hold on to Reggie for a moment longer and give him a subtle nod, expressing my appreciation. Reggie is the only guy I allow to hold me. His arms have always provided me comfort and taken away the suffering stewing inside myself. I feel safe when he holds me, protected from the pain. If anyone else’s arms try to embrace me, I only feel that pain amplify and the need to get them away from me quickens with every second. Lately, I’ve been finding more reasons for Reggie to hold me.
***
Presley is still standing at the back door entrance, clenching her hands at her sides and looking down at her feet. I can see she’s petrified when I approach her. “Hey Presley, it’s all right. Let me introduce you to the last of our bunch.” I take her hand and pull her into the kitchen where Reggie is leaning against the counter. His arms are folded over his chest and his hair is astray from constantly running his fingers through it, clearly out of frustration about my suspension. “Reggie, this is Presley Quinn.”
Reggie extends his hand out and it engulfs Presley’s petite hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Presley. Sorry you had to hear me yell, I’m normally not so tense when they come home from school.” He shoots me an exasperated look and I mouth an annoyed I’m sorry when he won’t let it go.
I lead her outside, giving her my best stewardess voice. “Come on, Presley, I’ll take you on a grand tour of our estate.” She lets out a small laugh as we walk out the back door and step onto the deck.
Our house is a typical 1980’s ranch style, brick home. It’s one of the few homes on our street without plywood covering at least one of the windows. Walking to the front of the home, Presley takes notice of the garbage scattered in the gutters of the street and Sulfur Heights’ finest citizens making deals on the corner about a block away. “That’s pretty typical for this side of town. Just stick with one of us and no one should bother you,” I say, trying to ease any apprehension she’s having.
Presley pulls her eyes away from the drug deal down the street and asks, “Has anyone ever tried anything to you…I mean…” She can’t finish her thought and my mind can’t help drifting to my stepfather and the things he used to do to me.
“We did have an attempted robbery a year or so ago. Luckily, Reggie and Jeremy were home and they beat the shit out of them. After that, Reggie installed a fence all the way around our property and a security system.”
“Didn’t the police come and help you guys?” she inquires.
“Nah, the police don’t bother. You rarely see any law enforcement on this side of town, unless the incident involves someone who lives on the north side of town. Then they come running from all directions. You’ll soon find out how fucked up this place is. That’s why, the moment I graduate, I’m out of here. If it weren’t for the guys, I would’ve been gone a long time ago.” The look on Presley’s face is unsettling. She looks terrified and like she completely understands all in the same expression. Interesting, I get the feeling she is hiding more behind those brown eyes than she lets on. “Eventually, you get used to it. It just takes a little while. Anyway, most people in our neighborhood know to stay away from our house with Reggie being an ex MMA fighter and all of us have a reputation for busting skulls.” I smile as I give a playful punch to her arm.
We walk down the single lane driveway that leads to the back of the property where large oak trees line the small, flat backyard. The oversized two car garage has peeling tan paint, fills out most of the back plot, and is a mechanics dream. The garage is filled with every tool ever needed to build and restore classic muscle cars. Which happens to be a major hobby for all of us, myself included.
Moving up the steps of the back deck, we stroll into our 1980’s kitchen. Presley notices the light green and white, striped wallpaper and the white and wood color cabinets. There’s a small dining table pushed against the wall, covered with extra dishes that don’t fit into the cupboards. You can only accompany two, maybe three, people in the space comfortably and, with the giants living in this house, it always seems crowded. The kitchen is old and outdated, but it’s clean.
I lead her into the living room that is adjacent to
the kitchen. This room is huge. There is a worn, black, sectional sofa tucked in the corner which looks hideous next to the dark brown shag carpet. In the other corner, sits Reggie’s favorite piece of furniture. It’s a black leather Lazyboy recliner equipped with a back massager and heat. He spends Sunday afternoons in this chair watching sports on the state of the art flat screen TV while unwinding from the hours he puts in at The Slab.
Down the hallway, I show her where the bathroom is and point to the closed doors. “This is Drake’s room, Reggie’s office—he hates when people go in here,so I would steer clear of this room—and his bedroom.” Directly across the hall is my room. Reggie being the nice guy he is, gave me the master bedroom when I moved in. Since I’m the only girl and he wanted me to have privacy.
“This is my oasis,” I say as I open my bedroom door. It is the opposite of Reggie’s. The walls are painted a deep shade of eggplant, and pictures of my favorite rock bands along with sketches I’ve made cover the walls around the room. It’s large enough to accommodate a queen size, contemporary style, four post bed. The onyx bed is covered in plush black and purple linens. A large, six drawer dresser with mirror, two night stands, and a papasan chair accompanies the bed. I saved my money for a summer to make my bedroom the only girly space in the house, and I absolutely adore it. Attached is a small bathroom, complete with a stand up shower and pedestal sink.
I point to the bed, directing Presley to sit down, and then go to my stereo to turn on my favorite Alice in Chains mix. The mesmerizing sound of Layne Staley’s voice fills the room as the dark guitar riffs ignite my soul. I keep the music at a respectable level so we can talk and avoid Reggie’s blood pressure skyrocketing again.
I move across the room and join her. I know nothing about this girl that’s sitting on my bed, so I lay a pillow across my lap as I begin the Darcie Claiborne interrogation.
“When did you move to Sulfur Heights?”
Presley is fidgeting with her hair, wrapping it tightly around her index finger. “About two months ago.”
“And you moved from Memphis?”
Presley nods and readjusts herself on my bed to face me.
“I noticed before you were referring to your parents in past tense when you said they were big Elvis fans. What happened to them?’
She shifts uncomfortably on my bed and looks out the window facing the backyard of the property, appearing to be lost in thought. “…well…they…they died in a car accident a few months ago.”Her face fills with sorrow as she tries to blink back the tears that are forming in her eyes.
“Sorry, Presley…I didn’t mean to push. I understand if you don’t want to talk about it.”I know exactly what she is feeling. When I was twelve, my mom overdosed on prescription meds, even though she was far from getting mother of the year, it still affected me.
“It’s okay…just doesn’t seem real sometimes. It’s like I’m living someone else’s life. This place is the exact opposite of where I grew up. It’s cruel and cold…” she hesitates to finish her sentence then quickly changes the subject. “So where do Jake and Jeremy stay?”
I smile at her ability to get the spotlight off herself. An art I have perfected over the years. “Oh…they took over the basement. Jake generally stays down there. Jeremy sleeps on the couch in the garage most nights because he’s always fiddling with something out there and Jake is a major slob. No one really goes in the basement except for Jake.”
“I’ve been wondering; how did you come to live here?” The dark pools of her eyes meet mine when she hesitates to ask her question. I instantly become uncomfortable. This is the part of my life I refuse to talk about. I stand from the bed and walk to the window. There’s a slight breeze blowing through the trees, swaying them in a steady rhythm.
A dozen different emotions start ripping their way through my veins. I’ve never spoken about what happened to me when I lived with my stepfather. Not even my confidant, Reggie, knows the details of my horrific past. Until I was able to sleep without seeing my stepfather’s face, Reggie was always there. He would spend hours holding me, comforting me from the nightmares, but he never had any detail what those nightmares entailed. My heart knows he will be the only man in my life and I love him. I probably love him more than I realize, but the emotions are too terrifying, I won’t allow them to seep through the concrete I’ve poured around my heart.
I shake my head from the invading thoughts and turn to Presley. It’s been years since I’ve had another girl to hang out with; well, since Vanessa and I were friends and look how great that turned out. My gut is telling me I can trust her, but my mind wants to close her off. She’s too fragile. She couldn’t handle the gruesome details. Hell, I can’t handle the gruesome details most times.
“Presley, some things are best left alone. Do you catch my drift?” I give the most honest answer I can.
“I understand, Darcie. Everyone has skeletons.” She gives me an endearing smile that makes me visibly relax.
“I will tell you this secret.” Her eyes perk up with curiosity. “I think Drake is crushing on you.”
“Really?” As soon as she says it, she covers her mouth and turns a deep shade of crimson. “I mean…what? That’s not possible. He’s just a nice guy.”
“That he is; however, Drake’s never invited any other girls back to our place. Trust me, I’ve known that boy since he first started twitching in his pants, and typically, girls are circling him like rabid vultures. However, he usually goes to their house, if you know what I mean.”
That makes her beam with delight and she appears to be more comfortable since we’ve arrived. “Come on, Pres, let’s get something to eat,” I say as I pull her off the bed and we make our way toward the kitchen.
Chapter 4
Darcie
We round the corner into the kitchen and see Drake belly up to the counter, shoveling a giant sandwich in his mouth. He looks a little embarrassed when he notices Presley watching him mow down his afternoon snack. I take a couple of Cokes from the fridge and snag a bag of chips out of the cupboard. We start to head back to my room when Jake comes upstairs from his cave. “You’re still planning on going to The Slab tonight, aren’t ya, Darcie?’
I roll my eyes and nod my head over to Presley who is standing nervously next to Drake. “And how’s she supposed to get in?”
“She”—he says,pausing dramatically—“can stay back with her boyfriend.” He’s pointing to Drake. “And we”—another long pause—“can go meet up with Reggie at the bar.”
Drake starts to choke on his sandwich when Jake assumes he’s Presley’s boyfriend while she ducks her head down and turns as red as a tomato. “Jake, you’re such a dick sometimes,” I shout while trying to suppress the humor of the whole situation. “Presley, you will have to excuse Jake. Sometimes he doesn’t use the common sense portion of his brain, mainly because he doesn’t have one. So, I apologize on his behalf for him being a douche bag.”
Jake reaches his arm around my neck, securing it in a tight headlock. I bend over with the pain of being restrained and he starts to drag me by my head out of the kitchen. My feet shuffle across the green linoleum floor while we make our way to the living room for my second wrestling match of the day. Jake swings me down to the floor. He wraps his legs around my midsection while still keeping one arm around my neck and the other holding my wrists. I’m pinned on top of him. “Tap out, Darcie!” he yells, keeping a firm grip on my body.
My face begins to redden as I shout back, “Never, you pussy…let go or you’ll regret it.”My threatening words have no effect on him as his vise-like grip clenches tighter around my body.
Somehow, I manage to wiggle one of my arms free. I draw my elbow back and slam it into his side. It causes him to let out a loud grunt and he loosens his tight hold. I spin around and straddle him, punching his gut with both my fists. Jake retaliates and flips over on top of me, holding my wrists above my head, securing my feet with his. That’s when panic set in.
Suddenly, I am transported back in time to three years ago. The feeling of being pinned down by my arms and legs, the feeling of a man’s weight restraining me and the inability to breathe flashes into my mind. I start to violently shake my head from side to side. My breathing gets short and fast. Without even realizing it, I start to scream; just like I did the night he planned to touch me.
Jake freaks out and quickly releases my body from under his. “Shit, Darcie, I’m sorry. I forgot how you get.”
I’m still screaming, unable to move. I’m frozen to the carpet. I’m still in that house. Lying on that urine soaked bed.
Salvation arrives.
Reggie appears out of the nowhere. He kneels down beside me. His hands are wiping the anger away from my face as he whispers into my ear, “Shhh, Darcie. It’s okay. I won’t let him hurt you again, never again. As long as there’s breathe left in my body, he will never harm you again.” His voice is all I need to hear. My eyes begin to focus. My brain begins to register the only true protector I’ve had in my life.
In one swift move, Reggie picks me up off the floor and cradles me into his arms. I lean my head against his chest, absorbing the scent of his safety. He glides down the hallway, kicking Jake in the shin as we walk by. When he reaches my bedroom door, Reggie swings it shut with his foot, then gently lays me down on my bed.“It’s been awhile since we’ve seen one of those.”
Embarrassed from my tantrum, I start to nervously stroke the scar on my wrist. I let out a long sigh as he slowly rubs his hands up and down my arms. I wait for the adrenaline to leave my body, focusing on those blue irises. “Yeah, I’m not sure what happened. I just…snapped.”
We sit in silence for a few more minutes. Reggie doesn’t let me go. He rubs my arms, continuing to calm me down with his gentle touch. “I think I’m okay, you don’t need to sit in here and stare over me.” My words come out a little harsher than intended. “I mean…you can go back to whatever you were doing.” I’m feeling foolish from my outburst and can sense my cheeks flushing.
Scarred Love Page 3