“Brian Rockford,” sharp suited man called him and Brian narrowed his eyes. He didn’t recognize them as someone he’d met earlier. “What the fuck do you think, a scumbag like you is doing with my daughter?” he yelled at him and he got it. He was Samuel Potter. The man who had kept Rebecca from him.
“Which daughter you are talking about, sir?” “Don’t try to act smart with me, Rockford. I am warning you for the first and the last time, if I see you near Rebecca, you’ll regret why you were born.” Samuel pointed a finger in this direction. Brian walked closer to him until his finger right on his chest.
“Threatening me like you threatened her to leave me in Chicago? Bite me once, bite me twice on the same spot, shame on you, Mr. Potter. This time it is me standing between you and her. You have to break me to go to her because there is no other way you are having her. She is mine and mine alone. Rest of you can fuck off before I lose my mind and start setting the records right!”
“Son of a bitch!” the gray suited man tried to throw a punch on his face, but Brian was much faster. He tilted his head to let the punch pass without even coming close to his skin and then fisted his own fingers to hit him directly on the nose, making blood spill. And then he pinned him against their Bentley and gripped him by the neck, making him choke.
He turned to Samuel without losing his grip and said to him, “Stay the hell away from Rebecca’s life.” He let his grip lose and the other man tried to catch his breath. Samuel looked at Brian for a few seconds and then crossed his arms on his chest. “You are willing to put your life in danger for her?” Brian didn’t answer.
“Impressive, I must say.” Samuel shrugged a bit. “But have you ever considered if she is worth your effort or not? I mean with whatever happened with the baby and all.” Baby? “She is worth or not, you don’t have to decide that for me, I can do it myself.”
“Such love, I see. What do you think Travis?” Samuel turned to other guy who was still struggling to normalize his breathe. “He really has a big heart to forgive Rebecca for what she did to him. Keeping his own child from him and …” Brian didn’t let him complete and groped him by the lapels of his jacket. “Get the fuck out of here, Potter or I swear to god, I’ll drag you back to your house by the tie.”
Samuel smirked and then turned to sit in the car. Soon he had sped away. Brian stood dumbstruck on the middle of the road. Keeping his own child from him. Child? Rebecca had his child, their child? And she hadn’t told him?
*****
Rebecca’s eyes opened at the sound of the lock. A smile appeared on her face as she recalled the last night with Brian. She was sore in a couple of places but never felt better in these two years. Speaking of which, she wondered where Brian was. She got out of bed and shrugged on his shirt from earlier and pulled up a pair of boxer briefs. And went out to hunt her lover.
Broad shoulders greeted her in lounge. “Brian,” she called his name softly, knowing that they weren’t alone in the apartment. Brian didn’t respond to her call. She walked around and opened her mouth to address him again when she saw his face. It was pale as stone. And his eyes were the hardest she had ever seen.
“Brian, what happen? Are you okay?” she reached for his shoulder and his steel eyes stopped her midway. “Do you have something to tell me, Rebecca?” oh shit. His voice gave her shivers. “Brian, what…” she tried to speak but no words came out of her mouth. Brian looked up at her, “do you want to tell me something I don’t know, Rebecca?” he repeated and his voice remained just as impassive and hard. Tell him about the baby. Her inner voice probed her.
Rebecca took a seat next to him and nodded. “There is.” She heard his sharp intake of breath. “I know it will sound … shocking to you, but please, listen me out, okay? I never wanted to keep things from you, Brian, never. I always wanted to come to you. But I was tied so badly that …” “That it didn’t occur to you to tell me about my own child.” Brian completed her sentence. How did he know about this? No one except her family and a few hospital staff knew. Now that he knew she could see the obvious. He was going to leave her.
“Brian, I wanted to tell you. Trust me; I had every intention to fly down to Chicago after the delivery.” Brian got up and ran his fingers through his locks. “One call, Rebecca, one fucking call! Was it too difficult for you?” he yelled at her and she cringed back. “Didn’t it occur to you once that I had a right to know? If not for me, for the child, Rebecca, he deserves to know who his father is. And don’t give me your father and his influence bullshit.”
A lone tear ran down her cheek as she listened to his venting that he had every right to do, but inside she was breaking. She had thought that telling him would be difficult but this was heart-breaking. “I want to see my child.” His demand made more tears run down and she looked up at him. “I also wanted you to see your child, Brian, if only she was alive. She died before she could take her first breath in this world.” Brian looked as if someone had punched on his face. And then hurt took over his beautiful face. Then she saw a stray tear in his own eye. Rebecca couldn’t keep herself away from him. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him, but Brian, he didn’t reciprocate. He just stood still.
“It was a still birth.” She was telling him but he wasn’t listening. And then he moved out of her hold and walked out of the main door.
It had to be Samuel who told Brian about the baby. It could only be his stupid trick to play with people’s heart. And knowing Brian, Samuel had found the only weak spot to tear him. She had enough now. She had to tell him to fuck off from her life. Even if she had lost Brian, she wasn’t going to live under her father’s influence anymore.
“Miss. Potter, what a…” she ignored the receptionist and walked straight to her father’s room. The door was slightly ajar. She was ready to push open it when she heard Samuel and Travis’s words. “You played it smart, Samuel, I have to give you that. First you set things up to make it appear that her child had a still birth so that it is out of the scene and you don’t have to play hard to keep Rebecca. And then this, you knew that scumbag would leave after hearing that his darling has kept their child from him.”
“Play smart, young man, not hard. That’s the rule. Now call that guy of yours and tell him we need him following Rebecca again today. And this time, ask him not to make a fool of himself and do the real job. That night he did what? Crash a can on the wall? Tell him to go hardcore if he has to. I want Rebecca running to you for help, Travis.”
Rebecca stared at them in shock. Her father had done all this to her. Taken her child, feared her to death, drove away the man she loved; for what? For his repute? He had ravaged her life, her dreams, and her love to acquire his own dream.
“Rebecca? What are you doing here?” Travis spotted her and rushed to the door and opened it wide. Samuel followed. There was no hint of guilt or shame on his face. He was indifferent.
“How could you do this to me?” Her eyes were on Samuel. “Rebecca, darling, we can sit and talk inside,” Travis tried to reach her but she shoved his hand. “Don’t!” she snapped at him and turned back to Samuel. “How could you do this to your own daughter, dad? How can you be so ruthless to me? You took my baby away telling me that she died. Then you had me stalked and attacked just because you wanted me to run to this spineless piece of shit that you want me to marry with? Why, dad? Just because you want to become the Governor? For that you could played with my life like I was a puppet? Is this what I mean to you? A lifeless piece of decoration whom you can mold according to your need of the time?” She had tears running down her cheeks but her voice was surprisingly cold and low.
“Congratulations, dad, purpose well achieved! I played right in your hands. You had me where you wanted. And I am not surprised that the person standing before me is a man with no bounds in respect to anyone’s feelings, life or being. The person standing before me is a cheat, a manipulative bastard and a miserable excuse of being called human!”
Samuel made no attempt to silence her nor gave
any other expression. “I’m not going to wait for you to tell me that it’s my turn to make decisions of my life. Because you won’t be seeing my face ever again. And as for my daughter, I will find her even if I have to bleed it out of your confidantes. And if you as much as raised a finger in Brian’s direction, I swear to god, I’ll ruin your image for which you fucked so many lives in the process to build it.” She never once took her eyes off him.
“And you,” she turned to Travis, “get a life!”
*****
She brushed her cheeks from the back of her hand and moved past the staring eyes. The entire floor had heard her encounter but damned if she cares. She had a daughter to find and if possible, a lover to win back.
“Rebecca!” She was about to call the cab when she heard a loud voice. She turned to see it was Brian. A little hope sparked inside her. But then died when she saw his face. “Where the fuck have you been?” he growled at her. “I stepped out of the house for two minutes and you flew off?”
“Brian, you left.” She dared not to read too much. “I needed a minute to take your news in. It was broke on me by that ass-head father of yours that you had kept our child from me, and then you told me that she didn’t even make it alive. Give man a break to breathe,” he snapped at her.
“So you didn’t leave me?” she asked. “If, even for a minute, you think that I’ll leave you, Rebecca, get your head checked. Because you are stuck with me for a lifetime. I hate myself for not being there with you when you needed me most. I hate that you had to fight all this on your own. Babe, I want to be by your side and hold for your hand and everything with you.” He cradled her face. His eyes were filled with love and tenderness. If this wasn’t declaration of love then she didn’t know what else was.
“She’s alive. Our daughter,” she whispered with a smile. Brian looked at her as if she had said the world was a triangle. “What do you mean?” “He had kept her from me and told that it was a still birth. But I just heard him
saying that he planned it all along.” “Motherfucker!” Brian growled and was ready to go after Samuel when Rebecca caught him. “We’ll find her, Brian. I don’t want to face him again.”
Just then a girl exited from the building and approached them. “This is for you, Miss. Potter.” She gave her an envelope. Rebecca opened it. Inside there was a folded paper. An address of a small ranch outside Los Angeles was written with a name, Annette Jules. Annette? She was the old lady who had worked for the Potter family for years but then had left right after Rebecca had returned home from the hospital. She looked down, in the end there was a little script; I am sorry, Becky.
It was from her father. He had given them their daughter’s address. “What is it, Love?” Brian asked. When she didn’t answer, he took the paper from her. “She is with Annette. Brian, our daughter is alive and in good hands. She is alive. Oh Brian, she’s alive.” Her knees weakened and Brian took her in his strong arms. “We’ll get her, love. We’ll get our daughter.” He kissed her temple.
Rebecca looked up and saw Samuel looking down from the window. Maybe one day she’d find it in her heart to forgive him for what he did. But not now. Now was about Brian and their child. She took his face in her palms and whispered, “I love you, Brian. Thank you for not giving up on me.” Brian smiled down at her and pressed a small kiss on her lips. “I never stopped loving you, love. You have always been mine.” And then they were on their way to get their daughter. It was the time for a new beginning.
The Nameless Rider
Axleton was nothing more than a tiny scratch mark on any map of the States, if it was marked at all. It sat in a hidden corner of Texas that apparently the rest of the world was totally unaware of. American flags hung from almost every doorway, and the nearby lumber mill employed almost every man. The town looked out upon the rest of the world like Hobbits. They didn’t care about it. They just wanted to be left alone. Barbecues and the Fourth of July and fireworks and pool parties and more barbecues have what consumed this place, captivated it. Few of the people wanted more.
Except me, Emma Harvey thought, as she scanned the lady’s box of eggs and carton of milk.
“That will be four dollars,” Emma said in her mechanical voice, in her have-a-nice-day voice. It was the voice she always used at work, scanning, scanning, until she felt like a robot.
The lady paid, and Emma was left to watch the TV, some drama show she barely paid attention to. She lazily switched the channel. The store was empty. It was rarely full. The population of Axleton was too small. She switched channels until she came to Axleton’s own news station, which ran for thirty minutes each night and was operated by volunteers. Kevin Plainview, the local barber, sat behind the desk in a suit that hung awkwardly from his thin frame.
Emma barely listened, and then, at the end, as the sun began to set and throw orange rays into the store, Emma perked up. She had heard rumors, but she didn’t believe it. Why would they come here? What would the point of that be? What could the Dogs of Exile want in Axleton? “We have sources in the biker’s club – one of the biggest clubs in America – that they will be stopping in our small town for a few days. As far as we can tell, the club is not criminal, as people claim, but we should be on the lookout all the same. The sheriff has informed me that…”
Emma was forced to look away when the door jingled. Casey Walker came in, her wide smile on her face, the smile that reminded Emma of kindergarten, or her first illicit cigarette, or the fact that she was still a virgin. That conversation had happened only a couple of days ago. They’d been sitting in Emma’s small apartment, sipping beer and talking idly. Emma had mentioned it casually. She was, after all, only twenty-one. But Casey’s eyes had almost popped out of her head.
“You’re still a virgin!” she’d cried, clapping her hands together madly. “But Adam Fischer in high school?”
Emma had shrugged. “That’s why we broke up,” Emma said. “I didn’t want to, and he didn’t want a girlfriend with principles. That’s why he got with Cindy Underwood the day after.”
Casey had laughed aloud, and then taken a long sip on her beer.
Emma knew her friend didn’t mean any harm by it, but she had thought about it right up until the alarm screamed in her ear and it was time to go back to the store. Maybe it was strange that she was still a virgin. But she had never felt the need, the desperate need, the deep lust, that she thought she should feel. She had felt mildly excited a few times, but not excited enough to strip naked and do . . . that. She knew some girls who just did it to get it over with because they didn’t want to be virgins. Emma hated all of those phrases, especially when put together like that. Sex, she felt (and, fine, maybe she was a freak, maybe she was strange) should be something you actually liked, instead of something you just did.
“Fun day?” Casey said now, bouncing through the door.
People had said they were sisters once upon a time. As girls, they’d both been short and blonde and thin. But somewhere along the way puberty had knocked them apart. Casey was big now, with humungous, motherly breasts and wide hips. She’d dyed her hair, too: dark red. Her face was round and pale and open, always a smile on her lips. Emma was still thin and short and blonde. And sometimes when she looked in the mirror she saw that she was scowling, without knowing why.
“Oh, yeah,” Emma said. “Is it your shift already?”
“The mill or the mart,” Casey laughed.
The mill or the mart. How long had the locals been muttering that phrase? Emma wondered for the perhaps the thousandth time why she hadn’t followed Mom and Dad’s example and moved away. It didn’t have to be to France, like them, but perhaps a few miles north of Axleton. But she couldn’t exactly move away tonight, so there was no point thinking about it. Emma took off her apron and handed it to Casey, who tied it around her torso and moved around the counter.
“Keep me company?” Casey said, that wide smile on her lips.
“Maybe another time,” Emma said, and then left.
She spent enough time in that place as it was when she was being paid without making it her favorite hangout spot, too. She walked down the street into the center of Axleton and then around the corner to the small apartment complex that had only been built recently. The spring sunlight was waning now, and when Emma closed her apartment door, it had disappeared completely, replaced with the clear bright sky of a million stars and a half-full moon of pale blue light.
Emma sat up in bed for a while reading a novel, and then turned off the light and rolled over. Today – thank God! – was her day off. She didn’t have plans. But that was the beauty of it. She didn’t have to go to work. She could do whatever the hell she wanted. Maybe she would sleep all day. Or maybe something exciting and unsuspected would happen.
Yeah right, she thought, as sleep took her.
*****
She woke to the sound of a hurricane. In her mind, in that groggy space between consciousness and sleep, she saw houses ripped from their foundations and clattering in the wind like a child’s toy. She saw people crushed by their cars, and water rushing down Axleton like a river. Then she opened her eyes, sat up, rubbed them. The sound became clearer. No, she realized, with a sigh of relief. It wasn’t a hurricane. Motorbikes.
She ran to the window, not caring that she was only wearing her panties. Her small, pert breasts bounced up and down as she ran. Opening the curtains, she saw that the street below was filled with burly men, men covered in tattoos and facial hair and who looked like they smelled of oil and sweat, all sitting on huge motorbikes (most of them Harleys). Their bikes coughed and screamed and growled into the town, and then stopped, lining the road outside The Spoon. David Matthewson, the old, balding man who owned the café, ran outside with his apron over his shoulder. He scanned the line, mentally counting them, and then ran back inside. Emma had worked for him when she was a kid. She knew what he was doing. Sizing them up so he could get the coffee started, the bacon frying, the pancakes flipping.
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