by Voss, Deja
“Why don’t you come with?” Moss suggests, fishing a joint out of his pocket. “Let the old lady throw her tantrum in privacy. You need to show her what’s up.”
“Hell no,” I tell him. “I’m not trying to get my ass kicked.”
He laughs disgustedly, like he’s looking down his nose at me. “Have it your way. I’d cut off my nuts before I let some broad walk all over me like that.”
And that’s why we are two different people. I’d never leave Molly behind when she was upset like this just to protect my ego and show her what a “man” I am.
The two leave, and I feel absolutely awful. I know how Molly feels about Moss. To see her ‘best friend’ cozied up with him probably doesn’t help.
“What can I do for you?” I ask as I join her inside. “You want help unpacking?”
“I want you to burn these fucking sheets,” she groans.
She pulls a plastic bin filled with linens out from under her bed. I see her face turn bright red and it looks like she’s about to burst into tears. She grabs the case that she keeps her gun and valuables in and throws it across the room.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her.
“My fucking gun is missing.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Molly:
I run out of the bus like a bolt of lightning. I don’t know what my game plan is. All I know is that a gun registered in my name is out on the streets somewhere. I don’t put it past Moss to use it to commit a violent crime or sell it to someone else who wants to, and I am so pissed at Cheryl for betraying our friendship like this.
I’m mad at Tucker, too. He knew how upset I was when I got home and saw the scene unfolding in front of us, and he just stood there with his hands in his pockets acting like it’s another day in the life.
I don’t get far before he’s wrapping his arms around me, stopping me dead in my tracks. I slap him away, but he doesn’t let go.
“Stop,” he says. “Just stop.”
I’m bawling. I can’t catch my breath.
“Get off of me,” I scream, but he doesn’t. He just hugs me tighter.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to get my gun back. I need to go to the police. I need to talk to Cheryl. I don’t know!”
“Let me take care of it,” he says.
“Like you took care of it back there? I don’t know what kind of power Moss has over you or why. He’s a scumbag. And now he could potentially ruin my life.”
“Nobody’s going to ruin your life, Molly. I’m sorry I dropped the ball. I figured there was no sense in making a scene. You know him as well as I do; he thrives on that shit. I should’ve handled things differently. I’ll go take care of it. I promise.”
I feel sick to my stomach. I don’t want him to go. I don’t trust Moss and I don’t want to see Tucker get hurt. What I really want is for him to see what I see. I want him to understand that those are bad people, and he will be just fine without them. He doesn’t owe them anything more than he’s already given them.
“I’m going to call the police and file a report. I will just tell them we were on vacation and my place got robbed. I just don’t want a gun registered in my name out on the street in the wrong hands.”
“Please don’t call the police,” he says. “They’ll question us.”
“And?” I stammer.
“And I don’t want them to take me away from you.”
“Tucker, nobody is going to take you away. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Are you sure?”
Of course I’m not sure. I can’t be sure until he mans up and does what he needs to do. Goes and sees the doctor. Reports himself missing. Whatever the hell it’s going to take.
“I’ll go talk to Moss tomorrow.”
“After your doctor’s appointment.”
He rolls his eyes at me, like I’m being a nag. “Obviously.”
We stand there in silence, neither one of us wanting to admit that we have been doing nothing but fighting and fucking for the last week. Nothing that I could possibly say to him right now is going to make things any better. Everything that I can think of is just going to sound hurtful, and I don’t want to hurt him. I do want to push him though. I want to put my foot down and get this mess cleaned up. I’ve let this go on for far too long.
“We need to go inside and write down everything you know,” I tell him. “Everything you remember from this weekend.”
“Whatever.” He shrugs.
“Tucker!” I shout. “Why are you being like this?”
“You’re trying to change me, Molly. You’re cutting me off from my friends, making me go to fancy social events and dress up in suits, you’re trying to make me into someone that I’m not! Can’t we just go back to us? Like the day we met?”
“I didn’t make you do anything, Tucker. And your friends are criminals who stole from me. The only thing I’m making you do is go to a damn doctor so you get can treated for your head injury. Is that so much to ask?”
“You’re digging, Mary,” he says sternly. “You’re always digging for something. You try and make it seem like you care about me, but really you just want something from me.”
“Stop FUCKING calling me Mary!” I yell. “You need to get this figured out.” I turn and take off back to the bus.
“Molly,” he whispers loudly.
“Who is she?”
“Nobody.”
I continue walking away, and I don’t even look back. If he wants to be with me he has some choices that he’s going to have to make, and he’s going to have to make them fast. He has to understand that I’m willing to love him no matter who he ends up being, but I’m not going to be haunted by the ghosts of his past for the rest of my life.
I’m not going to be his Mary.
“I’ll go to the doctor’s tomorrow,” he says. “We’ll tell him everything. I’ll help you do your research however I can. I’ll turn myself in. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right to you.”
I’ve heard these words before. He can say it until his face turns blue.
I need him to show me.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Tucker:
I knew I needed to let her cool down for a little bit. I know it’s really selfish of me to not want her to call the police, but even if Moss stole her gun I know he turned it over to Mitch, and Mitch will give it back to me. Moss might play fast and loose with the rules, but he doesn’t take from his men. Anything he manages to pocket goes right back into our fucked-up little community. He might not be a moral guy in the traditional sense, but he does have some rules he set for himself that he lives by.
I decide to take a walk downtown. I’m beat from the trip. I want nothing more than to be curled up on the love seat with her, just watching TV and doing things normal couples do on a Sunday night.
Normal couples… why won’t she let me have that?
I know she’s pissed off and I know I didn’t do the right thing, and maybe it’s ridiculous, but the least I can do is go get a pizza from her favorite spot so she doesn’t have to worry about cooking dinner tonight.
I walk into the little pizzeria and order her favorite—bacon and green peppers—and sit at the bar nursing a bottle of beer. The place is quiet, not much action around here on a Sunday night, and I’m glad. The only person I want to talk to is pissed off at me, and I don’t feel like putting on a happy face and pretending like all is right in the world right now.
“What’s she doing here?” I grumble to Max. I didn’t want to do anything for my birthday. All I wanted was a day off to go for a hike, but here I am, on Max’s yacht, surrounded by a bunch of people I don’t really give a shit about.
Sure, I can suck it up and make nice. I’m a nice guy in general, and my parents raised me to be polite. Even though these people are showering me in gifts, expensive bottles of scotch and tickets to random sporting events, I know it’s not because they want to. It’s because they’re going to want some
thing from me down the line.
The worst offender is standing in front of me in a sequin minidress. Her hair is bleached to the point of platinum white—long, curly, and probably half fake. This isn’t the girl who broke my heart when we were in college.
This isn’t even the girl who broke my heart two years ago when I caught her cheating on me with some tech mogul. This is some plastic watered-down version of the girl I thought I loved more than anyone in the world. Looking at her right now is repulsing me.
“Happy birthday, Jesse,” she says, kissing me on the cheek casually. The look on her face is pathetic, like a dog with his tail between his legs, pathetic and sad, and it’s working. She’s such a good manipulator. I do feel bad for her.
Not attracted to her. Not even interested in fucking and chucking her. I feel like I need to show her kindness even though she’s absolutely wrecked me more times than I care to admit.
“Where’s Hal?” I ask her.
“Oh shit, Jess, he dumped me months ago. Traded me in for someone ten years younger. Apparently plastic surgery only gets you so far,” she says, motioning to her body. “That’s not why I’m here, I swear. I just wouldn’t feel right missing your birthday.”
Mary has missed most of my birthdays. Most holidays, too. It seems like our breakups always coordinated with things that were important to me, important to our relationship. She’s here because she sees a window of opportunity, and I am almost dumb enough to fall for it because I’m a nice person.
Almost.
“I can’t do this with you anymore, Mary,” I tell her. “And honestly, the thought of spending my birthday on a boat with you makes me want to throw myself overboard.”
“You’re mad, I get it. You know how our lives are though. When you grow up as poor as we did, sometimes you make selfish choices. It’s not who I am. It’s what’s in me. It’s self-preservation.”
“Is that what you’re trying to do there? Preserve yourself by replacing all your body parts with plastic ones?”
“You’re just being rude now,” she huffs. “You know how important it is to keep up appearances in this crowd. I learned that lesson too late.”
“Please go,” I tell her. “Get out of here before we take off. That would be the best birthday present you could possibly give me.”
“I’m not going to make a scene here,” she says in a low growl. “But I expect you to get in touch while I’m in town. All we’ve been through together, you at least owe me that. I’m staying at the Franklin.”
I watch her disappear into a sea of people, watch her get sucked into the crowd, but I don’t stop watching. I need to make sure she’s actually off this damn boat.
When you grow up as poor as we did, sometimes you make selfish choices?
Self-preservation?
The truth is finally out, and it’s made me realize I need to stop pining over Mary. I need to get her out of my life forever, and out of my mind. We’ll never be a couple, she’ll never love me fully. In her eyes, I will always just be a stepping stone, no matter how rich I am and no matter how little she wants for.
“Sorry about that,” Max says, shrugging. He hands me a rocks glass of scotch. “I didn’t invite her, I promise.” I know he didn’t. He has vocally expressed his hate for Mary for years now. Maybe I need a little dose of that right this second to seal my decision.
“I did however invite her,” he says, pointing to a cute little redhead in a bikini. “And her,” he says, waving at a brunette chick with long legs dipping her toe into the water. “And them,” he laughs, pointing to the curvy twins rubbing sunscreen all over each other. “Hope you don’t mind. Full speed ahead!”
“Tucker!” I hear the waitress’s voice drifting across the bar. The smell of pizza knocks me out of my slumber. “Hey, you alright?”
“Sorry.” I smile. “We just got back from Washington. We’ve been driving all day. What do I owe ya?”
“No problem!” She hands me the bill and I pay her with a handful of cash. I don’t bother with the rest of my beer; I just grab the box and head down the road.
Molly is right.
I need to stop calling her Mary.
She’s nothing like Mary. I also need to get this shit straightened out right now. I thought being back home would make these thoughts and dreams calm back down. But they’re getting worse. They’re getting more vivid. They’re a part of me.
Max, I think. I gotta find Max.
* * *
“Hey,” I say, stroking her face. She’s passed out on the bed next to her laptop, snoring away. I hate to wake her, but I want to talk to her. I want to make things right.
I curl up next to her, hugging her body close to mine. She’s so beautiful lying there, so perfect and sweet. I bury my face in her hair, enjoying the smell of citrus and spices that only remind me of her.
She stirs a little and softens into my arms.
“You’re back,” she says, almost surprised.
“You thought I’d leave you?”
“I don’t know. I was pretty mean. I’m sorry I was so upset with you, Tucker. I know this is hard for you, too. Probably worse for you.” She rolls over in my arms and runs her hand over my face, kissing my lips.
“Did you have a nice nap?” I ask her.
“I don’t remember passing out,” she laughs. “But I feel much more awake now.”
“Good,” I tell her. “I hope you’re hungry. I got pizza. And I got coffee.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Charge up your laptop,” I tell her. “It’s gonna be a long night of research.”
“Oh yeah?” she stammers once again.
“Let’s play detective. Let’s find out who the real Tucker is.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Molly:
I don’t know what inspired this change in him, but I can’t stay mad at this gorgeous man who I’ve grown to love.
While he was out, I called my agent, Josh, and explained to him the gun situation. I explained to him the whole Vagrant issue as a whole and how I’d be doing a disservice to society by glorifying these men. He begged me to call the police, and I promised him I would. He even offered to cover my advance for me, but I told him I’d pay him back, that I’d find him a story that would make up for it and write it pro bono. It’s my own damn fault for biting off more than I could chew and then trying to put on a charade for so long. I know he’ll be able to salvage my career. Stuff like this happens all the time.
Now that that weight is lifted off my shoulders, I can focus all my energy on Tucker for the time being. I told him I was done with the story, and even though he felt bad, I could tell he was relieved that I wasn’t going to be doing any more digging around his crew. There’s no sense in staying angry, not at the Vagrants or at him.
Not when he’s doing exactly what I asked of him. Actively participating in the search. Even instigating it. And he brought pizza. I don’t consider myself easy, but bacon and green peppers seem to hit me right in the feels every time.
I told him all about the search I did while we were on vacation, and that I tried looking for missing persons on every possible website database I could find, typing in the specifics that I had to work with: hair color, eye color, approximate age, deer tattoo.
Nothing’s coming up.
I take a picture of his tattoo with my phone and do a reverse image search. Still nothing relevant.
He describes his dreams and flashbacks to me, and while they’re all very vivid, they aren’t specific enough. I have a list of first names and none of them are really coming together.
We come to the conclusion that the only logical thing for him to do is turn himself into the authorities. Surely they have access to information that we don’t.
“At least you’re not on any FBI most wanted lists,” I tease. “That’s comforting. To me, that is.”
Tucker’s such an amazing man, at least the Tucker I know. I can’t believe no one is looking for him. I can only imagine
the sadness his family is going through.
Still, I can tell he’s getting more and more frustrated as we continue our search.
Eventually he just sprawls out on the bed and closes his eyes.
“It’s going to be ok, Tucker,” I tell him, I try to assure and comfort him, but he’s lost. “Do you have a headache?”
“It’s fine,” he says. “Can we just try again tomorrow?”
“Sure,” I say, curling up next to him. “After your doctor’s appointment.”
He turns and faces the wall, and I feel like he’s trying to send me a message.
I understand he’s frustrated, but I want results.
I grab my laptop and start working on a new story.
Something that will get me what I need. I’ve been hanging onto this as a last resort since the day I met him. A new story. Something that will bring attention to him and hopefully get him back to his family. And hopefully, that family will be accepting of his girlfriend, her dog, and the bus they live on.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Thank you so much, Dr. Rose, for seeing him,” I say to the doctor. “I know this is completely unconventional.”
Dr. Rose is an older gentleman who works out of his home.
“Hey, unconventional has always been my thing.”
Rumor has it, he lost his license years ago before marijuana was legalized when he got caught prescribing CBD to kids for seizure treatment. Basically, someone stuck their nose where it didn’t belong, and it could’ve cost him his career. He still takes care of the locals who never lost their faith in him.
“So I understand you’re a complicated man, Tucker. Most people who suffer an injury severe enough to have prolonged amnesia aren’t nearly as functional as you are. I’m going to do a physical just to make sure all your vitals are ok and everything is working the way it should. You look healthy, but that doesn’t mean we might not find something if we start digging.”