I can’t remember how many times I called out his name. “Shawn. Shawn, talk to me man. Where are you? Say something!”
Nothing.
There was no response.
I saw the flames next, realizing that it had to be the bike. The sound of the truck-drivers voice chimed in. He was running in my direction, screaming something at the top of his lungs, though I couldn’t make it out.
He lifted the motorcycle off of me. In that instant the pain didn’t matter. Like the battlefield, I knew I had to get to my friend. Surely he was okay. He was a survivor, trained to get out of any type of situation. We’d been through everything and yet lived to tell the tale.
When I rounded the large tractor I saw the heart wrenching truth unfolding before my eyes. There was nothing I could do. Shawn’s body was mangled. It was obvious from the way he was laid out that his neck was broken. His eyes opened and when he attempted to speak blood spat out.
I could feel the burning in my eyes as I squatted there watching my friend take his last breaths. We weren’t just best friends. We were brothers in arms, and in life. He meant more to me than any relationship I’d ever had. Seeing him dying was like watching a part of me dying with him.
“Don’t die, Dingo. Please try to hold on. Help is coming.”
He said two words and I could make them out clearly. “Be me.”
“You’re not making sense, buddy. Just hang on.”
“Be Shawn Reed.” He began choking from the struggle of trying to speak.
I shook my head in denial. “You’re going to be fine. Come on, Dingo. I can’t be you.”
“Brother. Please. Kill me. Pain.”
I placed my head against his and wept for my dying friend. Even when help did arrive it was going to be too late. It was obvious he’d punctured a lung. From the way his body was strewn out he’d broken a ton of bones. He was so burned as a result of the short-lived fire that had broken out from the gas tank of the motorcycle. Parts of his skin were charred or red and melted-looking. I prayed that he couldn’t feel it anymore, but knew it wasn’t true. The best thing to happen was for him to stop fighting. I didn’t want him to suffer anymore, but I wasn’t a killer. This wasn’t a war zone and he certainly was not my enemy. Like he’d always said, we were brothers in arms, and in life. I’d do anything to keep him alive, and as I struggled with what I could do to comfort him, he began to struggle for air.
“Please,” he managed to cry out.
I could hear the man behind me calling out our location to someone on the phone. My back was to him, which was a good thing. I’d never let another person see me cry. I couldn’t even remember being this emotional, even when I thought my life was about to end. This was a different kind of pull. It felt like my last line of hope was about to cease to exist. He’d carried me, saved me, and mostly taught me how to be a better man.
More blood coughed out of his mouth as he continued to struggle. “Be Shawn,” he repeated.
I kept shaking my head.
Then I watched as he inhaled his last breath. His eyes remained opened, but left lifeless. At the same time I heard the emergency vehicles pulling in. My eyes were fixed on my friend’s dead body, as if it was some cruel joke, and at any minute he was going to wake up. In my mind I knew it wasn’t possible, but I longed for the result anyway.
Right before the paramedics found their way over to where we were, I made the drastic move that set everything into motion. I switched our wallets and backed away.
While they were doing their paperwork to transport my dead friend I spoke to the officers, telling them how he had died. The man driving the tractor trailer was distraught as well. He had his hands covering his face hiding his emotions the best he could.
A while later I had to go and claim my friend’s body. I signed the paperwork in Shawn’s name, and listed the deceased with my information. It was then that I became Shawn Reed. As much as I wished I could take it back, I knew it was too late. I’d committed fraud. I’d stolen money from his company, even though I knew it was his last wish. There wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t feel terrible about it.
After that night I got on my bike and didn’t look back. I guess in some ways I thought I could run away from it all, and start over someplace new, where I didn’t have to worry about someone knowing me as Dominic Chevy. Dominic was gone. Even though I remained, I’d become my best friend.
A couple months later I met Erica, and the rest is history. Perhaps if I would have left after the storm I wouldn’t be in this situation. I never should have come back to town and invested in the bed and breakfast to try and win her back. The lies had piled up before I could realize what I was doing.
The best way out of this would be to pack my shit and leave, except I refused.
I couldn’t say goodbye to her, even though I had no idea how I’d be able to stay.
Chapter 7
I made it down four steps before a door opened in the hallway. When I peered behind me I saw Erica’s mother standing there giving me that same hateful look as when she’d seen me bending her daughter over in the kitchen.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
She stood at the door without saying anything. It was obvious she’d been listening. How much she heard would depend on what she’d say to Erica in the morning. I didn’t know what to do.
Then, as abruptly as the door had opened, it closed. I shook it off as her just being nosey, but had a feeling that she may have been standing on the other side listening. If that was the case than she wasn’t going to sit quietly around her daughter.
Ever since we’d been together, for a year now, they’d had a problem with my age. Erica joked about it. We were only around ten years apart, but they found it to be taboo, as if I got my jollies off as a pedophile. To be honest, age never mattered to me. If a woman was over eighteen she was available. Erica was in her twenties, with a great mindset. Falling in love with her was the easy part. It was living with the lie I’d created on the first night we’d met that made life a challenge.
Now this woman was staying the night at her B&B, and I had no idea what was going to happen next. She wasn’t aware of the truth, which only meant she’d respect my wishes and go on about her search, that would only lead to a dead end, literally, or she’d tell my girlfriend the hard truth. My real name was Dominic Chevy and I’d taken over my best friend’s identity when he died. Everything she thought she knew about me and my past was really his life, not mine.
It wasn’t my fault at first. I didn’t think that she and I would amount to anything. We met under extreme circumstances, and I honestly believed that when the storm was over I’d never see her again.
In my defense I tried to get away. I left, driving as far as my bike would take me. I drowned myself in booze and a stripper named Bunny. For a day or so it took the edge off. Although, my every thought was the way it felt to hold Erica in my arms at night; to feel her smooth skin naked against mine.
Thirty days later I was determined to be with her, no matter who I needed to be for it to happen. My feelings blinded my judgment. I was on a mission, throwing caution to the wind. Erica knew me as Shawn Reed. I couldn’t come back into her life as someone else. The charade had to continue.
The hardest part for me out of everything was running the business. It took everything I had in me not to place a bet and blow it all. In the back of my mind I knew I had to make Shawn proud. His last wish was for me to have what he’d left behind. Though some would find that hard to believe, it was the brutal truth.
Feeling defeated, I retreated to the rear bedroom that I shared with Erica. She was still downstairs, which gave me some time to grab a shower and clear my head. As soon as the beads of water fell down over my head there was a bit of relief, albeit wasn’t enough to take away the looming fear of losing everything I’d worked so hard to have.
Then I began to wonder how I even felt like I even deserved it at all. I’d gambled my life away, and even though I’d
spent most of my adulthood defending this country, I was still a loser. I knew on my last day that I was headed to a casino, where I’d stay until I won it big.
For a couple months I’d landed a gig in security. With my military background it was easy to get such a good position. It also enabled me to borrow from a fair share of backers. In simple form, I talked a better game than I played, promising a gain to share with them. When I lost, I’d skipped town. My next stop was in Reno, a few hours from Vegas. That stint lasted only a week before someone recognized me.
By the time I’d made it out of Nevada there were a slew of people looking for me. They wanted their money, or my head.
If Shawn hadn’t come to save me I’d be dead. I didn’t deserve everything he’d worked so hard for, but I sure as shit wasn’t willing to let it go.
I think the worst part was that after taking on his identity I learned that Shawn had left everything to me anyway. Though it was already too late to do anything about it. Dominic had a death certificate, I’d signed off on it myself. Since I didn’t want to go to jail I had no choice but to continue on.
With my head resting against the hard tile of the shower wall, I didn’t move when I heard the glass doors opening. Only one person would be joining me, and as much as I wanted to turn around and take her into my arms, I was afraid that she’d see right through me.
I felt hands on my back, lathering it up as they moved. While remaining quiet I felt her lips on my shoulder. This was so hard, because all I could think about was how much she’d hate me if she learned my secret. For one year I’d learned what it was like to be loved by someone. I’d become the man that Shawn wanted to be. When I looked in the mirror I felt proud of myself.
Now I learned that there was a child, desperately needing his dad. How was I ever going to live with knowing he’d be without both his mother and father? I never saw this coming. Shawn had kept his relationship going with Melissa, obviously even when she was married to someone else. There was no doubt that the child was his. Those blue eyes gave it away. I could feel a burning in my eyes when I pictured what it would be like when his mother passed away. He’d be so afraid, so lost.
“Are you mad at me for acting a fool earlier?” Erica asked.
The fact that she thought I was mad at her made me irritated. “Of course not!”
I turned and cupped her face with my hands. “Erica, I meant what I said before. I love you. Every part of me wants to be with you. That’s never going to change.”
She backed away, seemingly confused at the way I’d answered. “That was deep. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”
“Yeah,” I tightened up my face to try and hide that I was torturing myself inside. “I’m fine. Just thinking about this life we have. It’s damn near perfect.”
A quirky smile lingered on her lips. “If you keep talking like that you may get yourself a treat.”
I felt her taking me into her grip. The mere thought of her getting on her knees awoke me. I watched her crouching down, hovering right in front of my stiff cock. Erica peered up at me while she licked at the tip. She made a slurping sound, as if to say that she was hungry for it. This was a game she liked to play, though I wasn’t complaining. “Mmm, I’m so horny tonight. Maybe it’s all the wine.”
I ran my hand through her hair, making sure it wouldn’t constrict my view of watching what she was about to do. “Perhaps you should drink more often.”
The vibration of her laugh tickled as she took the beginning of my shaft in between her lips. She sucked it hard, letting the water fall down as a constant lubrication. She pulled it all the way out, only to spit, rubbing her thumb over it to spread the saliva around. I felt her palms cupping my balls as she dove right back into it, this time going at a faster pace instantly. I backed up as far as my back would allow, leaning against the wall as I felt my knees buckling. She was seducing me with her lips, tantalizing me with her skills, and reminding me of just another reason why she was the one for me.
The slopping sounds of her lips continued until I lost myself in release. Erica caught it with her tongue, then let it drip out as she rinsed in the spray of the water. She stood and let me hold her against my chest. I closed my eyes, feeling content with the moment, silently pleading with some way to weasel myself out of what was about to go down.
This could be our last night together, and I’d blown my load like she meant nothing. It wasn’t how I saw tonight going, despite the fact that I wanted to give her my all. I couldn’t resist her, and now I was left feeling worthless, like nothing I could do or say would ever be enough for her to want the real me to stay. I was a fuck-up, and soon she’d know it too. Her hero that she’d put on pedestal was nothing but a fraud. I’d lied my way into her heart.
I was a coward.
It took everything I had not to break down right in front of her. In some ways I could tell she was on to me. Her gaze was curious, and in no time she’d be pushing me for answers. The question was if I had the balls to tell her the truth now, or wait until she found out herself that I wasn’t who she thought I was.
Because being with her was all I could hope for, I spent extra time washing her hair, and then the rest of her body. I kissed every exposed inch of her skin, trying my hardest to memorize it for when I was gone. No matter what, I wanted her to be able to recall how attentive I was when we were together. I wanted her to look back and smile at the pleasure I was always able to give. She needed to know that above all, I did try to make her happy.
If nothing else in my life was real, I knew my love was. I’d never felt something so powerful before, not even from my own mother. I’d always been a screw up, first in school, and then as an adult. Even after I’d joined the military, she still never gave me credit for attempting to improve my life. I suppose that her narcissistic tendencies led me to the direction life had taken me. Maybe her lack of emotional connection left me unable to commit to real relationships. It was how I’d always been able to walk away from everything. Yet, somehow I was different. I’d changed.
Love had changed me; the love from my best friend, and from the beautiful woman that I wanted to share my life with.
Once we’d dried off, I followed Erica to the bedroom and we climbed underneath the warm covers. Right away she cuddled against me, nestling her head on my chest. “We made it through the first day, babe.”
I patted her back while staring at the ceiling. Yes, we’d made it through the first day, but not without devastating circumstances. Now all I could do was wait for my new life to fall apart. “I know she seemed better, but I’m pretty sure your mom hates me.”
“It’s not every day that a mother walks in on her daughter bent over the kitchen counter.”
We both laughed. “It probably didn’t help that you were crying out for me to give it to you harder. I was pounding away when they walked in.”
“I can’t stop seeing their faces,” she added.
“They’ll never forget it either.”
“I know. That’s what sucks.” She lifted her head up to face me. “Are you sure you’re in this for the long haul? You’ve still got time to run.”
I held her closer, kissing the top of her head when she rested it back down. “This is the only place I want to be, Erica. I mean that with everything I have in me.”
“Good. I was hoping you felt that way. Ever since you said those words to me earlier I can’t stop thinking about our future. It seems so much more real. Am I being ridiculous?”
“No,” I chuckled. “It feels good to finally say it, though I think I’ve known I felt that way for a long time.”
“Don’t ever leave me, Reed. I’ve never been so happy before, and you’re the reason. I’ll never forget trading in the city life for this one with you. You make every day worth it.”
It hurt to hear. I struggled with how to respond, because if she knew the real truth she wouldn’t feel the same. This life was a mirage. It was fake, and the sooner I accepted it the easier it would
be to walk away from it.
Chapter 8
It was around 3 a.m. when I awoke to find Erica tangled with my body. I had to move slowly, but was able to scoot off the bed without waking her. There was something I had to do, and it couldn’t wait until morning.
Once I’d dressed and made it into the hallway, I crept toward the door of the room where Melissa and her son were staying. With my master key I opened the door to find the bed only occupied by a small boy. The sound of coughing drew me into the bathroom, where I discovered her leaning over the toilet hurling. I turned on the light, startling her at first. Then I saw all the blood. She wasn’t vomiting food at all.
“Jesus Christ! Melissa.” I crouched down beside her, pulling from the toilet paper dispenser to offer it for her face. “What can I do?”
She was so lethargic, unable to respond.
“Do you want to try to get back into bed?”
She nodded, but I knew she wasn’t going to stand up on her own. Without thinking I picked her up into my arms and carried her over to the mattress. She continued coughing, even as I backed away.
Next to her the little boy stirred but didn’t wake up. I watched her point to a set of children’s headphones. Once I’d understood what she wanted I put them over his head so he wouldn’t hear what was going on.
“Dom, help me,” she managed to get out.
“What can I do?”
She pointed to the bedside table where I noticed a pen and notebook. I handed it to her and watched as she struggled to write.
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