by London Casey
The nurses left the room.
“Aw, look at you,” I said to Roman. “Giving away free tickets to a team you don’t play for.”
Roman made a fist and his nostrils flared. “I’m playing next season. The team did dick without me. Ownership has me reinstated. The league is taking a beating from advertisers by not having me there. Plus, settling down and Willow and having a baby gave me a real good image.”
“What a great reason to have a kid,” I said.
“I’m going punch you again soon.”
“That’s okay. I’ll punch you right back.”
Roman grinned. He then threw his arms around me. “Thank you for coming, Slade. Shit, brother, I lost it. She woke me up crying in pain. I couldn’t soothe her.” Roman broke away and grabbed my face. “That’s the worst goddamn feeling in the world, not being able to help the person you love. Watching them in pain and not being able to fix it.”
I know, Roman, I know.
“She’s fine now,” I said.
“You got here fast,” Roman said. He motioned to the door and we slipped out into the hall. “You still in Daystron?”
“Working at Jack’s garage. He gives me odds and ends shit and pays well. It’s good enough for now. But I’m splitting again soon. Need to get out of there. I could let the lawyers settle up the old man’s house without me there. They can fucking email me shit.”
“Is that the only reason?” Roman asked.
“Not now, asshole.”
Roman put a hand to my chest and slammed me against the wall.
My back thudded hard enough to gain everyone’s attention in the hall.
“We’re good,” I called out. “Brother talk.”
Roman looked at me. “You fucked up, Slade. You fucking really hurt her. You’ve been afraid of her for years now because you know it’s goddamn real enough to go after. I know, I’m the last guy who should be giving advice on relationships. But fuck it, man. Do what you fucking want. Worry about nothing. I’ll get your back if you ever need me, okay? Shit, we hadn’t talked in years and I wasn’t sure when I’d see you again after that funeral, but then something happened and you were the first one I thought to call.”
“You’re not the big bro anymore,” I said. “Age, but nothing else, Roman. You took beatings for me. This is the least I can do for you. If anything happens with Willow again, you call me. If anyone gives you trouble here, I’ll make a call.”
“You were serious about that?”
“You don’t want to know the guys I run with,” I said with a grin.
“Christ,” Roman said. “Don’t end up beaten up in a ditch.”
“Not by these guys,” I said.
We hugged one more time and then I went to get a coffee. I snuck outside for a smoke and saw the crowd of people standing there. They all started to push forward, snapping pictures of me as I walked outside. Roman and I were brothers but we were very different. He was clean cut, tan and pretty. I was rough around the edges.
I stuck the smoke into my mouth and waved with my coffee cup.
“That’s the brother!” someone yelled.
“Caine!”
“Slade!”
“That’s Slade!”
I walked along the hospital and the crowd followed me.
“Can you tell us anything about Roman? Willow? The baby? What happened?”
I stopped at my motorcycle and turned and faced a guy with a camera. He snapped my picture.
“Take my picture again and I’m going to shove that thing up your ass,” I warned.
“We just want answers,” the guy said. “We have the right...”
“Fuck yourself,” I said. “That’s my brother’s personal business.”
The guy took my picture again.
I dropped the styrofoam cup to the ground and grabbed for the camera. I pulled the guy right to my face, almost burning him with the tip of my smoke. I twisted the lens and detached it from the camera.
“Turn around and bend over,” I said.
The guy shook me away and bolted into the crowd.
I laughed.
I tossed the lens into the air and said, “Someone catch that before it breaks.”
I got on my motorcycle and started it.
I didn’t do the fame thing so well... I preferred the outlaw life... and I knew I was about to break every rule possible for one woman.
I saw the lights flashing behind me and screamed FUCK under my helmet. I looked at the speedometer and wasn't going all that fast. Yeah, maybe ten or so over, but only a fucking prick would pull me over on the road I was on. It was a total straight shot for about ten miles.
For a split second I saw myself running. It wouldn’t have been the first time I did that from the police. I always used to ride like crazy and I’d get away. I’d take the dirt bike on the road and then just blast into the woods when the cops tried coming after me. Hell, there was even one time when Liv was with me. Her small hands clutching to my shirt tight, letting out yells as I darted through the trees. I sped away, got us to the top of a ridge, and we watched the sunset. Well, she watched the sun set, I was between her legs for a good hour. I didn’t need splotches of color across the horizon. A wet pink color was just fine.
I pulled over, maybe trying to rationalize a sense of responsibility.
I turned off the motorcycle and took off my helmet. I showed my hands and watched the door to the police SUV open.
When I saw it was Owen who got out of the SUV, I started to laugh.
Un-fucking-real.
I quickly climbed off my motorcycle and turned. Owen grabbed for his gun and pointed it right at me.
“Stand down!” he bellowed.
I kept walking toward him.
Fuck this.
“I wasn’t doing anything wrong,” I said. “What the hell do you want?”
Owen rushed at me, gun in hand. He was really pissed off.
When he got close enough, he jammed the gun into my left shoulder and tried pushing me back.
“I said to stand the fuck down,” Owen yelled.
“You have a dash cam running right now?”
“It’s having some issues right now,” he said. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
“For what?”
“I’m the one holding the goddamn gun, Slade. Do it right now or I will call something in on you. You want to spend the night in jail?”
I gritted my teeth. I could have fought him and I would have won. But the gun and the badge were holding me back. I could take on a gun, sure, but not the badge. Hitting a cop would ensure to spend more than one night in jail.
I put my hands forward. “Here. I’m not going to stand with my back to you like a bitch though.”
“Okay,” Owen said.
He put his gun away and took out his cuffs. He slapped them on my wrists, clicking them one click too tight. The teeth bit into my wrists hard.
“Do you feel safe now?” I asked. “Always needing to hide, right Owen?”
I saw him makes fists. He wanted to hit me. He grabbed my arm and walked me to my motorcycle.
“Stand right here.” He pushed at me and leaned against my motorcycle. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“My father died.”
“Weeks ago,” Owen said. “I gave you a pass on that, Slade. But you’re gone now.”
“I’m trying to get the house settled up, okay? Lawyers are dragging their feet. This got dumped on me.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you, Owen. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.”
Owen nodded. “We made a deal.”
“Years ago,” I said.
“I’ll bury you, Slade. Don’t fuck with me.”
“You going to give me a reason I’m in cuffs? Or are you going to let me go?”
“Stay the fuck away from Olivia,” Owen said.
I laughed. “I never understood you, Owen. You always wanted to fuck with me.”
�
�You couldn’t keep your nose out of my family.”
“Not your family, man. Just your sister’s panties.”
Owen let out a growl and stepped back. I waited for the punch but it never came. Instead he pointed at me and then smiled. “Just wait. Just fucking wait. I’m going run your information and make sure everything is up to date here.”
It was a bullshit move. I was legit. My motorcycle was fine. My license clear. Owen was just fucking with me. Trying to rattle my chains and make it known he didn’t want me in town. He had no legal recourse on me, no matter what.
So I waited.
He finally emerged from the SUV, a shit grin on his face. I thought for a second maybe something popped up on me.
But it wasn’t that.
I looked to my right and I saw a car approaching.
It wasn’t a cop car.
It slowed and pulled to the side of the road, facing my motorcycle.
Owen had called in a different kind of backup.
I felt his fist against my eye socket for the third time. He was fast about it, too. Punch after punch, acting like it was some high school fight. I had no choice but to take the punches since my fucking hands were still cuffed. He kneed me in the gut and took me to my knees. His little hand grabbed my face and slammed the back of my head against my motorcycle.
“Okay. That’s enough.”
Owen grabbed the guy’s arm and pulled.
“No,” the guy said. He lunged forward and swung down, cracking me in the face again with a hard fist.
I turned my head and groaned, spitting blood on the ground.
“Shit,” I groaned.
“Come on, Walker. That’s enough.”
“Fuck this guy,” Walker said. He pointed at me. “You’ll never fucking have her. You’ll never get close enough. I’ll kill you.”
I licked the corner of my lips and nodded. “Did anyone ever tell you that you hit like a bitch?”
“Ah, fuck,” Owen said.
Walker growled and came forward again.
I hurried to my feet and slammed my head into Walker’s gut. He let out a yell and I stood up, smashing the back of my head to his jaw. It forced him to stumble back a little, but that didn’t mean I was out of the water yet.
Walker was tall and lean. He had long arms and threw another punch at me. He got me in the jaw and sent me spinning. Then he jumped on my back and took me to the ground. He then unleashed another wild fury of punches. The side of my head, my back, shoulders, ribs. He was just swinging to say he was swinging.
“Walker, come on,” Owen said. “I can’t cover it up if you really hurt him.”
“Then I’ll fucking kill him instead,” Walker growled.
He was then off me.
I felt a hand on my shirt and pull.
“Come on, asshole, sit up,” Owen said. I sat up and looked up at Owen. “You okay?”
“Just great,” I said. “Not man enough to do it yourself?”
“No, I’m just doing my job.” Owen took the cuffs off me. He then turned and grabbed Walker. “Turn around. Hands behind your back.”
“What the hell...” I said.
“He’s getting arrested for attempted assault,” Owen said.
I laughed and spit a glob of blood out of my mouth. “Attempted?”
“You know, formality,” Owen said with a grin.
Owen cuffed Walker and turned him around. Now that I had a chance to look at the guy, I realized it was the same guy that grabbed for Liv at the funeral.
His shoes were in her trunk.
“He’s not going to get charged,” I said.
“You don’t want to press charges?” Owen asked. “Is that what you’re saying?”
I grabbed for my motorcycle and forced myself to stand. I grabbed my helmet and put it back on. I wiped blood off my face.
“You can’t stop me,” I said, looking right at Owen. “Jump me all you want, Owen. I don’t give a damn.”
“She’s off limits,” Owen said. “End of discussion.”
“That’s not a real reason,” I said.
“Then try this,” Walker said. He stepped forward and Owen pulled at the chain of the cuffs, treating him like a rabid dog. “You can never have her.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“She’s fucking pregnant with my kid.”
(OLIVIA)
I was shaking as I got ready, looking at my phone, hoping Walker wasn’t going to do something like call me or show up. And by getting ready that meant throwing on jeans, a long sleeved shirt, and trying to make my hair look nice but not too nice. Casual but not too casual. The funny thing was, Slade wouldn’t give a damn how I looked. He never did before. Why now? He was the only guy to ever look at me with raw eyes and see beyond me. To see through me. That’s what made us so real back then. I was the one who could tame the wild beast’s heart. Sometimes with my words. Sometimes with my touch. Always with my body.
With Walker, it was always about the image. That’s why he hated my apartment and he hated my job. He offered to give me money to not work. He offered to make up some bullshit title at his company to give me a sense of success. His exact words to me. I always refused, not wanting to rely on anyone. Yeah, he still gave me my money, bought me things, and did stuff with me, but those were all possessions. The thing that hit me the hardest when my father was killed was the sudden emptiness of everything. From the funeral and everything the police force did to honor him, it ended up as nothing but stuff. A plaque. A flag. His badge. His grave. But it didn’t replace him. Items didn’t replace the presence of a person or the feeling of love. It was the hardest lesson I ever learned. Well, that and losing Slade when he left town after the rumors of murder.
I froze and looked at myself in the mirror.
“I was there that night, too,” I said to Owen.
“You think I don’t fucking know that?” Owen growled at me. “He could have killed you.”
“He didn’t...”
“You saw it? You want to go stand in front of a judge and jury and say that?”
“No. I don’t know...”
“You didn’t see anything, Olivia. That’s the truth. You can’t lie for what he did. And what the hell were you thinking? Going up there with him? What were you... you know what? I don’t even want to know what you were doing. At least it’s over. What would our father think?”
And that was the one line Owen always used on me. Somewhere in my heart I believed my father wouldn’t have hated Slade as instantly as the rest of the town did. He was a man who gave people a chance and a man who would listen and judge by action, not by appearance and previous action. Then again, maybe that was the reason why my father walked up to the car so calm and casual. The guy had a trunk full of guns and a backseat full of drugs. And that guy had killed my father.
I touched the corners of my eyes and took a breath.
I needed to go. I needed to meet with Slade behind Jack’s garage in the junkyard. It was like we were kids again, sneaking around to get five minutes alone and see how far we could explore each other in those five minutes.
I rushed from the bathroom and grabbed my keys. A second before I got to the door, my phone started to ring.
Walker.
If I ignored him, he’d call back again and again, until I answered.
“Hey Walker,” I said.
“Olivia. Where are you?”
“In my apartment, why?”
“Good. Just checking.”
“Everything okay?”
“Perfect. Hey, I’ll take care of your tire situation, okay? I know a real mechanic that can get that all done for you. Four new tires, rims, everything. I want to make sure you’re safe when you’re driving.”
“I don’t really drive that much, Walker. Just in town. It was a busted tire. That’s all.”
“And I’m telling you I’m going to get you new tires. Understand?”
“Yeah. Sure. New tires.”
“That’s my girl
,” Walker said. “I, uh, I’m out with Owen tonight.”
“Oh? I thought he was working.”
“He’s getting off and we’re going to grab a drink and something to eat. Guy talk. You’re at your apartment?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“I won’t be over. I have an early flight to San Diego. I’ll be in touch soon, Olivia.”
“Okay, Walker.” My mouth was dry. I could no longer say the words to him. I love you. I had forced myself for years to say it. To convince myself it was the easiest thing to do to make everyone happy.
“Take care of that baby,” he said. “Sending my love.”
The call went dead.
I started to shake. I touched my stomach. I was so unbelievably far from pregnant. You needed to have sex to get pregnant. Walker and I hadn’t touched each other in such a long time that I hadn’t even gotten my last monthly prescription. I figured if he assumed I was pregnant, I could either fake something going wrong or just let it actually happen.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I was pathetic.
I was weak.
I opened the door to my apartment and left.
There was only one person in the world who made me feel strong.
Jack stood out front, smacking a pack of cigarettes against his hand. He took one out and lit it. He pushed from the garage and walked toward me. He took a long drag and then put the cigarette between his pointer and middle fingers of his left hand and pointed to the garage.
“Tire’s in there. I’m calling it a night. You can talk to Slade if you want.”
“Okay,” I said. “Thank you for getting that taken care of. I’ll make sure you get paid.”
Jack grinned. “It’s all been taken care of.”
“What does...”
“Hey, listen to me,” Jack said. “Unless you’re going to take your clothes off right now for me, I’ve got to go. I’ve got myself a hot date waiting.”
A hot date?
I didn’t want to know what the hell that meant.
I walked by Jack and went through the office.
Out back, the same spotlight was on as the night before. And Slade was standing at a car, except the hood wasn’t up this time. Instead, he sat on the hood of the car, a bottle in his hand, between his legs, head down.