Red Hot Bikers, Rock Stars and Bad Boys

by Cassia Leo

  “What?”

  “I think it broke her heart when she found out that you’d turned against her.”

  “I didn’t turn against her. What are you talking about?”

  “Well, she seems convinced you hate her.”

  “Why would she think that?”

  Heath shrugged mildly. “Probably because that’s what I told her.”

  Eli clenched his teeth. “You bastard.”

  Heath grinned. “I’ve taken her from you, you see. The same way you took Cathy from me. And I swear, Eli, that I will take everything you care about. Just wait. You’ll know what it’s like to hurt the way I do.”

  *

  Heath didn’t let Isabella out of the house for any reason. He set up a room for her, made sure she was comfortable and healthy. He fed her, got prenatal vitamins, gave her books about pregnancy. She couldn’t go to a doctor, so he hired one of those hippie midwives to come and see to her. The woman assured him that everything was going okay.

  The baby seemed healthy. Isabella seemed healthy.

  “Only,” the midwife said once, “she seems a little listless. Maybe you could do something to cheer her up.”

  Heath wasn’t about to do that. Isabella was only here to hurt Eli.

  Well.

  Maybe he was curious about his child as well. Sort of.

  He didn’t try to cheer Isabella up. Whenever she spoke to him, something in her voice set his teeth on edge, and it was all he could do to keep from hauling off and hitting her. Shutting her the fuck up.

  Mostly, he kept clear of her.

  The more pregnant she got, the less she even resembled something human.

  She was bloated everywhere. Her face swelled, obscuring her features. She moved slowly, a shuffling waddle that reminded him of the living dead. When she looked at him, all he saw in her eyes was emptiness.

  He hated her.

  When she went into labor, she was strangely silent. She hardly screamed. Mostly, she just grunted.

  The midwife told Heath he could stay in the room to help. To watch.

  But Isabella kept looking at him, and he wanted to cover up her face. He didn’t like the way it made him feel. He felt almost… guilty. He’d never meant to do this to her.

  The baby came, a little boy. It screamed a lot.

  He let Isabella name it, and she got a gleam in her eyes when she called it Linton, enjoying Heath’s grimace. But he didn’t really care what it was called, he discovered.

  He was amazed at how little he felt for the thing. It put him in mind of larva or of the tiny hairless offspring of rodents. It was pink and squirming and ugly.

  And from the beginning, it didn’t look a thing like him.

  He was disappointed. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been looking forward to his own child. After all, he found that he got along pretty famously with little Gage, who was eager and obedient. Heath had thought that he’d feel something stronger for his own son. But…

  He didn’t.

  The worst of it was that Isabella didn’t either.

  She refused to nurse the baby right after he was born. “Feed it from a bottle,” she said. “You’ve used my body enough, Heath.”

  He tried to explain to her that breastfeeding was better for the baby, but she didn’t care. So Linton was bottle fed and not often at that.

  Honestly, Heath tended to forget about it if it wasn’t crying.

  So until it cried, it lay in its crib. Alone.

  Then it would let out a tremendous wail.

  At first, he didn’t go to the baby right away, because he had this idea that Isabella should shoulder some of the burden of taking care of the child. He went to her, knocking on her locked door. “It’s crying.”

  “I hear it,” she said from inside the room.

  “You should feed it,” he said.

  “I don’t want to touch it,” she said.

  “It’s your baby, Isabella. You’re its mother. You should feel something towards it.”

  She opened the door. “You’re its father. Do you feel anything toward it?”

  He looked away. “You have every right to hate me, you know, but I don’t think the baby did anything to you. Don’t you have some sort of instinctual—”

  “No,” she said. “That thing invaded my body. You put it there, so it’s your problem.”

  Heath glared at her. “Doesn’t look a thing like me.”

  She snorted. “Don’t even try that, Heath. You are my one and only. It’s your problem.”

  He felt it again. The stab of guilt. He thought about taking her virginity, how horrible it had been. He reached for her. “You know, Isabella, I really am sorry that—”

  She slapped his hand away. “Forget it, Heath.”

  And rage swelled up in him. He grabbed her by the throat and shook her.

  The baby was still crying.

  “You need to watch it,” he said, flinging her away. “Some time, I’m really going to murder you.”

  But in the end, she beat him to it.

  Linton was only four months old. Heath didn’t bother trying to talk to her anymore. He didn’t try to convince her that she needed to pay attention to the baby. He just fed it and cleaned it and left it to its own devices. It seemed to be growing fine.

  He was in the kitchen of the farmhouse with Gage, who was coloring a picture in one of his books, and telling Heath some story about how he wanted to be a cowboy and ride horses, when Heath heard Isabella scream.

  It had come from outside the house.

  He ran for her.

  She’d jumped from a window, face first.

  Even so, she wasn’t dead when he got to her.

  She was broken and bleeding, but she wasn’t dead.

  He felt something he didn’t think he’d feel, seeing her like that. A kind of wrenching loss. He dropped to his knees next to her and pulled her into his arms.

  “Why?” he whispered.

  “It was the only way to be free of you,” she said.

  Her saying that should have made him angry, but it didn’t. It only made him sad. He held her, and he cried. She didn’t last very long.

  And holding her there, Heath thought about the fact that he’d only made love to two women in his life. And that both of them had died in his arms. Bleeding.

  ***

  2013

  “Dug her up,” Heath was saying. “It was amazing how well preserved she was. I suppose embalming really works. She hardly looked different.” He was standing in the kitchen, gesturing with the pistol, gazing over Gage’s and Thera’s heads.

  Thera hugged herself in horror. That was why he was covered in dirt? He’d dug up her mother’s grave? He really was insane.

  “I lay there with her. I thought maybe if I went there, I’d just… naturally fade back into her again. She and I were always part of each other. And that’s what’s been wrong all these years. She’s been gone, and I haven’t been whole. With her out of the world, I can’t…” Heath scratched the top of his head with the gun. “But I didn’t die. I couldn’t do it by force of will. I thought maybe being close to her… but…”

  Gage stood up. His voice was soft. “Heath, maybe you should give me the gun.”

  “No,” said Heath. “I can’t do that.” He waved it at Gage. “Sit down, I’m not done. There are things I have to say, and you have to hear them.”

  “And then you’re going to kill us?” said Thera.

  Heath chuckled. “I’m not going to kill you. You think I’m some kind of monster or something, don’t you?”

  Thera froze. What was the right answer? If she said something that angered him, would he shoot her?

  But Heath only shook his head. “I guess I’ve made myself worse than a monster to you.” He cocked his head. “Cathy’s daughter… You really do look so much like her.” He looked at the ceiling.

  Thera realized that he was close to tears.

  He sniffed, squaring his shoulders. “I’m sorry about your s
tepfather, Gage. I was angry. I’ve been angry at all of them. For everything they did.”

  Heath shook himself. “No, maybe I was born angry. Or maybe I got angry that night, that night when Floyd strangled my mother in front of me.”

  Thera didn’t even know who Floyd was.

  Heath looked at Gage. “I’m not asking you to forgive me. I want you to be angry too. It will make it all easier.”

  Gage cleared his throat. “I don’t even remember him. You said he was a drunk.”

  “Yes. A worthless drunk,” said Heath. “It’s true. But I killed him.” He pointed at himself. “I just did it. Made him shoot himself. He was sobbing. Begging me not to. I did it anyway.”

  It was quiet.

  “Are you angry with me, Gage?” asked Heath.

  Gage shook his head. “No.”

  “Why not?” said Heath. “I killed Floyd too. I got him back. It seemed like things were always being taken from me. People were taken from me. And I felt so helpless. And the only I thing I could do…” He broke off, his voice choked with feeling.

  “Give me the gun, Heath,” said Gage. “We’ll figure all this out.”

  Heath pointed the gun at Thera. “It was when you saved her that I saw it.”

  Thera cringed.

  Gage put out a shaky hand. “Don’t—”

  Heath moved the gun. “I’m not going to hurt her. Calm down.” He rubbed at his forehead with the back of the hand holding the pistol. “You pushed Linton down the stairs to save her. That’s what I did to Floyd. To save Cathy. Because he hurt her. I had to watch it, and one day, I just couldn’t anymore. So, I pushed him. I killed him. It was for her.”

  Gage swallowed.

  Heath kept talking. “I thought my son would be this extension of me. But he wasn’t anything. I would have had to put something of myself into him, and I couldn’t.” He looked down at his hands, which were shaking. “I couldn’t give him anything. I gave it all to you, Gage. So, it was never about Linton. It was about you.

  “And Catherine.” He turned to look at Thera. “You even have her name. You two.” He pointed at them. “You’re the ones who fix it. You complete the circle. You end it.”

  Then Heath was quiet. He looked at them expectantly.

  If he really wasn’t going to kill her, Thera wondered if now would be a good time to make a break for it. She looked at the door.

  Gage saw her. He grabbed her hand under the table.

  She looked at him, and he barely shook his head. He didn’t want her to move.

  Gage turned back to Heath. “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m raving, aren’t I?” said Heath. He took a deep breath. “Let me see. I went to Cathy’s grave, and I held her, and I realized that I don’t want to be away from her anymore. I thought I had to seek out all the people who hurt me and make them pay. But… when Linton… when you saved her, Gage, it seemed wrong, somehow. I felt like I had become all the people that I hated.

  “And that’s when I realized that I wanted to die,” said Heath. “But I didn’t die lying next to her. Then I came back here, and I got this.” He held up the pistol. “I was going to shoot myself. But I realized things were undone. I realized that all of this, everything that’s happened has been about getting to this point. This moment. For you. And her.”

  “Heath, you’re not making sense.”

  “It makes sense,” said Heath. “Of course it does. Whatever force was in Cathy and me, it’s now in the two of you.” He gestured wildly with the gun. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, kiss her already.”

  Gage looked startled.

  Thera felt her stomach lurch.

  They glanced at each other briefly, then turned away.

  She’d found Gage attractive a few times. And he’d saved her from Linton. But that hardly meant anything, did it? Of course, Heath was crazy, and if they didn’t do what he said, well, there was no telling what would happen.

  “She doesn’t want that,” said Gage. “And after what happened with Linton, I won’t force myself on her.”

  Thera licked her lips.

  Heath laughed. “Of course she wants it, you idiot. Look at her.”

  Gage turned to meet her gaze. His eyes were a warm brown—kind, concerned.

  She swallowed. “It’s okay.” Heath was nuts. They didn’t have a choice here. She understood.

  Gage tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, his knuckles brushing against her cheek. He moved his face closer to hers.

  She slammed her eyes shut.

  His lips touched hers quickly, a peck. She felt him start to pull away. And something—she wasn’t sure what—possessed her. She wound her hand behind his neck and pulled him back, opening her lips to him.

  And his kiss was thorough and sweet—achingly so. She felt like a garden full of buds, and as Gage’s mouth moved on hers, they all began to slowly open into bright flowers. They basked in him, like he was the sun. It was intense. She found herself clinging to him, not wanting the kiss to end.

  But it did.

  Gage looked stricken. He backed away from her.

  Her face felt hot. Jesus, she’d forced him to do that, hadn’t she? What was she thinking? She looked down at her hands. If it was possible, this embarrassment was worse than being trapped in a house by a madman. She had no one to blame but herself for the way she felt.

  “Good,” said Heath. “Good. You see?”

  Thera couldn’t look at Gage.

  Gage spoke, his voice ragged. “You had your fun. Now put the gun down.”

  Heath did. He set it on the table. “Pick it up, Gage.”

  Gage looked at Thera, then back at Heath.

  “I couldn’t shoot myself,” said Heath. “I tried to do it, but it didn’t work. Because I’m not meant to. That’s not my role. You have to shoot me. Save her from me, and win her.”

  “That’s crazy, Heath. The whole thing is,” said Gage. “She’s not going to want to have a thing to do with me. Not after what I helped put her through. And I won’t shoot you. You’re the only father I’ve ever known.”

  Heath laughed a little. “Then I’ll have to convince you.” He turned to Thera. “Don’t worry, sweet one. He’ll stop me before I really hurt you.”

  What did that mean? Thera drew back.

  Heath lunged across the table, wrapping his fingers around her neck, squeezing.

  Thera coughed.

  Gage stood up. “Stop it. Let her go.”

  “Pick up the gun and make me,” said Heath.

  Gage squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t do this. Don’t make me do this.”

  Thera’s eyes bulged. Her face was turning red.

  “You can’t let her die,” said Heath. “It’s the only way, Gage.”

  “Fuck you,” Gage gasped, grabbing up the gun. He put it against Heath’s head.

  Heath smiled, and it was radiant. “Do it. Send me to her. Please.”

  “Let her go,” said Gage, begging with his eyes.

  Heath tightened his grip.

  The gun went off.

  Thera gasped, drawing in a lungful of air, massaging her neck.

  Gage started to sob.

  ***

  2013: that quiet earth

  “Well, I haven’t seen him since we got my dad out of jail,” said Thera. “Heath had him arrested, and we had to go down and clear it all up.”

  “You haven’t?” said her friend Crystal Lockwood, furrowing her brow. “But it sounds like you sort of had a thing for him.”

  Thera shrugged. “I don’t know. I was a prisoner. I was nearly raped. I got stabbed. I don’t know if I can trust whatever I was feeling at the time. I was pretty messed up, you know?”

  “If you say so,” said Crystal.

  “We’ve spoken on the phone a few times,” said Thera. “He invited me to Heath’s funeral. I didn’t go, of course. Gage cared about him, but I didn’t at all. I thought he was a horrible man. I still don’t understand how my mother could ever have loved him, but
my father says it’s true.”

  “How’s your dad?” said Crystal.

  “Good. I mean, he’s probably never going to let me move out on my own. I figure I’m stuck under his roof for years. But he’s opened up a little bit. And he’s been telling me stories about my mom and his sister. And Heath. The whole thing is so twisted, you wouldn’t believe.”

  “After what happened to you in that farmhouse, I’d believe it,” said Crystal. “That was some twisted shit you lived through.”

  Thera laughed. “It was. Sometimes, I wake up, and I think I’m still there. I get so afraid.”

  “I bet you’re relieved when you know you’re safe.”

  “Yeah.” Thera bit her lip. “But, you know, it’s funny. About what you were saying about Gage. When I realize I’m safe, I’m also kind of disappointing that he’s not around.”

  Crystal gave her a knowing look. “You are into him.”

  “I can’t be, though,” said Thera. “We barely know each other. And we don’t have anything in common. He grew up on a farm, and he dropped out of high school, and he fixes cars for a living. What would we even talk about?”

  Crystal shrugged. “From the way you described that kiss, maybe you wouldn’t have to do much talking at all.”

  Thera gave her a withering look. “You’re bad.”

  Crystal grinned. “And that’s why you love me.”

  She smiled at her friend. “Maybe.”

  “You have his phone number, right?” said Crystal. “Maybe you should call him.”

  “And what would I say?” said Thera. “Hi. Remember how we were forced to kiss at gunpoint? I thought it was kind of hot. Did you?”

  Crystal laughed. “You could just ask how he is.”

  “It’s odd, because I’ve been thinking a lot about him today,” she said. “Like, maybe I should see him or something? But… it’s too weird. It would never work. We’re too different.”

  “Maybe different works,” said Crystal. “Your mom and your dad were different.”

  “I don’t think they really worked, though,” said Thera. “And Heath and my mother were too much the same.”