Red
Page 10
Brooklyn tried to get me to drink some water, but I refused. When she came in with a juice box containing one of those little straws that bend, I accepted. Since then, I’ve drank five. I pray for sleep to take me, but just when I start to doze, another cramp hits me, and each time it’s in a different place. I would love a hot shower, but just the thought of the amount of energy it would take has me staying in bed.
I hear heavy footsteps on the stairs and am more than surprised when Luke walks into the room. That damn smirk is on his face and I’m sure he’s gonna say something that will result in him getting throat punched.
“You look like shit,” he says, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
“You can’t see it, but I have my middle finger up.” He laughs, and it makes me want to smile.
“Good to see you haven’t lost your touch. You gonna make it?” His smirk fades and he looks at me with concern. But, I show him no pity. What kind of question is that anyway?
“Probably not. Shed some mercy on us all and just kill me. I think I’d be a lot better off.” His smile is back and I don’t know why. I wasn’t kidding.
“You’re too fucking mean to die. Want me to lay with you?” The question is innocent. It’s one that I’ve heard many times. Only this time, it isn’t him that I want. Because Luke knows me so well, he gets it before I have time to say anything. I watch his face morph into understanding before he smiles. “Ah. You know my rules, Red.” Fuck his rules. He’s always told me that his brothers are off limits. He claims it is because he doesn’t want me to break their hearts and leave him with the shit to clean up. I know the real reason is because he doesn’t want me to get my heart broken.
“It’s not like that. I just like having him around. He gets me.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m serious.” There was nothing about Regg I liked other than the way he made me feel, the things he did for me, the way he took care of me, the time he devoted to me, his arms, his smell and his smile. That was it.
“Whatever you say, gorgeous. I gotta go. I’ll come check on you later this week.” I know he doesn’t believe a word I said, but I can’t be angry with him about it. Because, truthfully? I don’t believe a damn word I said either.
“No! I don’t want to go!” They can’t make me. Not this time. This time, I was staying in the only place I was sure nothing bad would happen to me. It always smelled funny. The bathroom was shared with six other girls, but it was better than the unknown.
“Denny, we’ve been through this. They’re good people, now. Stop being a pain in my side, and get your skinny little butt in the car.” Ms. Hart, the counselor at the group home, has been through this more than once with me.
The big man appears in the doorway and just his presence has me cowering away from him. His name was Mr. Baggett, or Winston or daddy. He told me I could call him either one. I didn’t want to call him anything. I just wanted him to stay the hell away from me.
“Denny, I won’t tell you twice. Come on.” My feet betray me and out of fear, they follow him to the old, beat up van that waits outside. His wife, Pat, sits in the driver’s seat, waiting with a fake smile. I have nothing but a backpack with a few changes of clothes and Mr. Bear, my best friend.
When the door closes on the van, I look up, hoping to find someone on the front steps of the orphanage. I pictured them standing there with sad faces, wiping tears from their eyes as they watch me leave. But, the only thing occupying the concrete steps is an old plant that hasn’t been watered in days.
“How much for this one?” I hear my new mama ask. She lights a cigarette, not even bothering to crack a window.
“Twelve hundred. And she’s a pain in the ass.” Winston turns in his seat so that he is facing me. On the floor at my feet, he lays a long, thick switch that seems fresh picked from the bush just outside the group home. “But, we ain’t gonna have any problems with you, are we, Denny?” I feel my heart beat harder and my eyes widen in fear as puts his fat, dirty hand on my knee. When I don’t answer, he squeezes it, forcing the unshed tears to fall down my cheeks. “Are we?”
“No, sir.”
I sit up in bed, gasping to catch my breath. Fucking dreams. Why couldn’t I have just been born normal? Why couldn’t I have had a mother who constantly worried over me and a father who cleaned his shot guns when boys came over? Why did I have to be born to a woman that didn’t want me? Why did I have to have a father who couldn’t give two shits less about me? Why was I being punished?
To add to my torture, Regg walks in with a determined look on his face that says, ‘I’m here to save the fucking day.’ I’m through with being saved. I’m through with asking for help. I just want to do my time so I can please the judge and go back to doing what I do best. Being a junkie and a pathetic waste of space. I want to dance my problems away, on the stage, in front of a bunch of people who only care about what color panties I’m wearing. I want to snort until my demons are my best friends and my endorphins are back to fully functioning. I miss being happy.
Regg doesn’t talk to me, he just hands me a juice box, then proceeds to start taking off his clothes. The scene is surreal and I contemplate pinching myself to make sure I’m not still dreaming. He pulls his shirt over his head, leaving him naked from the waist up. I can see his tan line peeking out from under the waistband of his gray underwear. He still says nothing, leaving the constant slurping of my juice box as the only noise in the room. His eyes stay trained on mine as he lets his jeans fall to the floor.
“What are you doing?” I ask, feeling a desperate need to say something. Or maybe I’m feeling a desperate need for something else.
“I’m getting ready for bed.” I watch him walk across the room, his body moving with confidence and oozing with sexiness. He sets the alarm then crawls in under the covers behind me. Without question, he pulls my body to his and plants a kiss on the back of my head. “Goodnight, Red.” What? That’s it?
“Who said you could sleep with me?” I ask, knowing good and damn well that I won’t be asking him to leave.
“I think I should be asking that question. This is my bed, after all.” He has me there. I set my empty box on the nightstand and l let myself snuggle in closer to him. My body is sore and tired, but the cramps have subsided. It feels good to have Regg here, and it doesn’t take long at all to find myself asleep in his arms.
***
The next morning, when Regg leaves to walk the chicken houses, I join him. Today is the first day that itch I’ve had since I’ve been here is gone. Do I still want drugs? Yeah. If they were offered to me right now, would I take them? Hell yeah. But, the urge isn’t as strong as it was yesterday. I should feel better. I had the best sleep I’ve had in years last night. I don’t want to claw my eyes out or peel the skin from my body. My body feels better than it has in days. But, instead of being happy about this, I feel depressed.
It’s hard saying goodbye to a life you’ve lived for years. Letting go is difficult, but not knowing what’s ahead is worse. The future scares the shit outta me. When I danced, I knew that’s all I was going to do. Sure, the drugs were a problem, but those three minutes I spent on stage made it all worth it. I miss my life. I miss the spotlight. I miss how I felt when I let the lyrics of a song take me away.
I’ve tried to stay busy today, hoping to keep my mind off of dancing. But I can’t. It’s who I am and what I was made to do. I let drugs ruin my life. I let them destroy everything I worked so hard for. And I’d do it all again, if I could just get rid of this feeling inside of me. The feeling of losing the only thing I’ve ever loved. Dance.
I have a problem. A big one. I could stand here and beat around the bush about it, or I could face it and deal with it right now. Before this moment, I couldn’t concentrate on my personal feelings because I was too busy dealing with my addiction. I was so absorbed in what I once was, that I never once thought about what would happen when the pain subsided and the drugs were not at the forefront of my though
ts. Now that I am thinking with a clearer head, it is all becoming obvious and just slightly overwhelming.
From day one, Regg had my interest. From the very first moment I laid eyes on him, there was an instant connection. Many nights, I laid awake thinking about him. I thought about the way he looked at me. How he made me feel. What his lips had felt like on mine.
Then, I hit rock bottom. By that time, he had become only a distant memory. But, then he appeared and rescued me from the deepest, darkest hell of my life. Now, less than a week into my sentence, I’ve found myself dependent on him. I need him in my life. I claimed it was because I needed his help, but in reality, I want him because he’s made me feel something no one else ever has. I’m drawn to him. I delight in just his presence. I want him in my life. I need him with me. And he is the one thing I don’t deserve.
“You sure are quiet today,” Regg says, interrupting my thoughts.
“Yeah, just got a lot on my mind.”
“Wanna talk about it?” Yes.
“No, I’m good. I just want to be alone a while. I’ll catch up with you later?” I try to form some sort of smile, but my lips refuse. He gives me a worried look but nods his head.
I walk back to the house with a heavy heart. When I cross through the woods and into the backyard, my prison looms big before me. Almost three months I have to spend here. If my feelings are this strong now, what will they be by the time I leave? As I make my way up the stairs, I realize what I have to do. To keep Regg safe, I have to keep my distance. I won’t allow myself to fall for him. I can’t. He doesn’t need a poison like me in his life. I can get through this with no emotional connection. Can’t I? I only have eighty-six days left, but with how I’m feeling, it might as well be an eternity.
Chapter Fifteen
Depression’s Cure
I’m six weeks in, twenty pounds heavier and moments away from setting fire to my bedroom when someone bangs on my door. I roll out of bed, kicking clothes, shoes and other random objects out of my way to clear a path. Regg stands on the other side, exhaustion evident on his face.
“Take a shower and get dressed. We’re going out tonight.” It’s not a request, but a demand.
“I’m pretty tired. I’m gonna call it a day.” That was a lie. I was going to sit here and read magazines, watch trash T.V. and eat junk food until I passed out. But, he doesn’t have to know that.
“You’ve been holed up in this room for weeks. You’ve barely spoken twenty words to me. You never come downstairs. You avoid the club and your room smells like something died in here.” This is true. All of it, but mostly the ‘your room stinks’ part. I was gonna clean it up today, I just haven’t gotten around to it.
“Regg, look. We’ve been over this.”
“No, we haven’t. All you said was ‘I don’t wanna talk about it.’ That doesn’t tell me shit. I’ve asked you to talk to me. You said you didn’t want to, so I gave you your space. That shit ends now. You’ve got thirty minutes. If you ain’t downstairs, I promise you’ll regret it. Now, get a shower, put on some jeans, and brush your hair. I think rats are livin’ in it.” He leaves, forcing me to talk to his back.
“Will you at least tell me where we’re going?”
“Nope.” Asshole.
I’m showered, dressed and even wearing makeup when I trudge down the stairs just as he’s coming up them. He looks good, really good. He’s wearing his cut, jeans and an orange and black bandana. Farmer Regg is hot, but biker Regg has you thinking nasty, dirty thoughts. When he scans my body with his eyes, they are possessive and daring. And I want someone to fuck with me just so I can see how far his limits can be pushed.
“Here,” he says, shoving an envelope at me. “It’s a card for Punkin. She’s out. Club’s giving her money to help on her fines. This is from me and you.” I pull the card from the envelope, and find a simple ‘thinking of you’ Hallmark message inscribed on the front. Regg pulls a pen from his cut and I add something personal to the card that I know Punkin will love.
Don’t thank em’ just shank em’
-Red
It’s words of wisdom that she once told me years ago. I’ve never taken her advice, but I’ve never forgotten it either.
Regg takes the card from my hand, sliding a thick envelope inside of it before tucking it into his cut.
“You remember how to ride?” he asks, that sexy smirk of his playing on his face.
I cock my eyebrow at him. “Do you?”
“Oh, baby. If you only knew.” He walks away smoothly, full of confidence. I, on the other hand, have to hold onto the banister to keep from falling.
***
The ride to Luke’s is liberating. It’s been a while since I’ve been on the back of a bike for such a long trip. I let the sound of the pipes drown out my thoughts and let the wind carry away my problems. It’s the first time I’ve been back to Hattiesburg since my court appearance. The only day I’ve even left the farm was to take a piss test, and that was in Collins-the town Regg lives in. Brooklyn has taken me and even paid to have my nails done. Since I butchered them during the first few days of my withdrawal, a new acrylic set was much needed. Afterward, she admitted that it was Regg’s idea and Regg’s money that paid for it. Two of the twenty words that I’d spoken to him in the past few weeks were ‘thank you.’ But, words couldn’t describe how much the gesture meant to me.
The clubhouse at Luke’s is filled with people. Knowing how skittish Punkin was likely to be, I was sure it was only our club that was here. And sure enough, every Devil’s Renegades patch-holder from Lake Charles and Hattiesburg were here. All except for Pops who was unable to make it due to an illness.
I’ve seen them all several times at Regg’s over the past few weeks. I am always cordial, but I mostly avoided them. So, much like Punkin, I was a nervous wreck to see all of them too.
I follow in behind Regg, staying close to him even though many of these people I’ve known a lot longer than he has. He never leaves my side as I take turns hugging all of the men and women that are here in support of Punkin, just like they supported me. No one mentions anything about drugs, or my previous career. There is only an encouraging smile on all of their faces.
I see Punkin across the room, sitting in a corner by herself. She watches the room cautiously, rubbing her hands back and forth together in a nervous gesture. I make my way to her, leaving Regg in a crowd of people.
“Hey Punk,” I say, smiling at her. I keep my distance, not wanted her to get uncomfortable at my sudden approach.
“Red?” she asks, squinting her eyes to get a better view of me.
“Yep.” She stands and I close the distance, allowing her to take me in her arms.
“You look good. Real good.” She holds me at arm’s length, taking me in. I wipe the tears from my eyes with the backs of my hands. I’ve missed her.
“Me? Look at you!” She’s lost weight, but other than that nothing has changed. Her dark hair is pulled into a tight bun at the back of her neck, and her eye makeup is heavy-just like I wear mine. Her lips are painted Brooklyn style in a deep red, and she’s proudly sporting a Property patch on her back.
“Can you believe all these motherfuckers are here? They’ve gotten some fine ones since I’ve been gone.” I laugh at her words, surveying the crowd of bikers. But only one draws my attention. Regg. He gives me a chin lift and I offer him a smile, earning myself a wink. I flush and look away. Shit. I’ve missed him. I hadn’t realized it until this moment, but damn. Why have I wasted the past three weeks avoiding him? Oh, that’s right. Because I’m an idiot.
“Uh oh,” Punkin says, pulling me from my thoughts.
“What?” She’s staring at me, shaking her head and I start to wonder if there is something on my face. “What, Punkin?”
“You’re in love with Regg.”
I gasp at her words. “What? No, I’m not. We’re just friends.” I roll my eyes at her ridiculous assumption and start to fidget for the first time in days.
“I don’t even really know him. I mean, I know him, but not really.”
“That don’t even make sense. You’ve been living with him for weeks. And I know you knew him before that.” She places her cigarette in the corner of her mouth, drawing off of it without taking the time to remove it from her lips.
“I’d only met him a few times before that. When he showed up in court, it’d been five months since I’d even talked to him.” This causes Punkin to snatch the smoke from her mouth and narrow her eyes on me.
“What?” Oh for fuck’s sake.
“You heard me right, Punkin. Like I said, I barely even know him.” Her shocked expression has me thinking that maybe prison did something to her mentally.
“You mean to tell me that motherfucker paid off a judge for twenty thousand dollars, for someone he barely even knew?” Now, it’s my turn to be shocked.
“What?”
“You heard me right, Red,” she says, throwing the line back at me.
“Tell me everything you know, and Punkin, you better not leave anything out.” Apparently, this was a well kept secret since this is the first I was hearing of it. Whoever told Punkin was a fool. She couldn’t hold water when it came to her sisters. And in this moment, I was never more proud to have a sister like Punkin.