by Sarah Cole
I can barely process that comment before Andrew completely lays Tyler out with a punch so hard his head snaps back and he crashes to the floor. Blood is gushing from his nose and lip. That’s gonna leave a mark.
“You’re going to regret that, bro.” Tyler says scrambling to stand, blood staining his once crisp button down.
“Something tells me I really won’t, bro.” Andrew says, mocking him, as he scoops me back up and heading towards the exit. The crowd parting for us like the red sea.
It isn’t until Andrew is putting me in his car, strapping me into the seat belt hat I realize that my entire body is shaking and I’m sobbing. Full on ugly cry.
Andrew places a hand on either side of my face, cupping my cheeks and gently kisses my lips.
Andrew:
My blood is pumping so hard, it’s like a freight train in my ears. I have only been in a real fight two other times in my life, and both were for a good reason. I consider myself pretty mild mannered, but that motherfucker just wouldn’t stop. He’s lucky I can show some self-restraint. To disrespect me is one thing, but to belittle and disrespect a woman like that – my woman no less, warrants a beat down.
You don’t treat women like that. My father would beat me unconscious; my mom too, if they ever heard I’d disrespected a woman that way. Torn from my thoughts I see Charlie still shaking on the seat next to me, so I crank up the heat hoping to take some of the edge off. It’s beyond me how such an awesome night can turn into something so messed up in the blink of an eye. It seems to happen more than it should.
“Charlie babe, you ok?” I ask gently, knowing I don’t want to upset her anymore.
She nods her head and looks out the window, tears still streaming down her face.
“I’m taking you home with me, if that’s ok? I know Laney will be home later, and I think there are some things we need to talk about. I can take you home in the morning before my shift if that’s ok with you?” I ask.
“If this is about Tyler, I’m so sorry. I have no idea why he was there, it’s not really his scene. He abhors music like that and hated when I’d play or hang out with the band. I have no idea why I wasted time with him. Andrew, I’m so sorry.” She’s nearly frantic in speech, getting herself worked up again.
“It’s ok sweetheart. Yeah, Tyler is something special, but that’s not what we need to talk about. It’s important, but I really don’t want to hash it out in the car if that’s ok? So let’s talk about something else for a minute and get you calmed down. Ok?”
She sniffles and nods, and she’s so sweet that I just want to wrap her up and hold her forever. I want to crush Tyler; not only because he’s an asshole, but who discourages someone they care about from doing something they love? Especially someone who has a talent like Charlie’s?
“You know you have my dream car, right?” She says breaking the silence.
I look at her stunned by her random admission. “Is that so?” I smile. I love my car. I have an SUV, but once I finished my residency, this was my gift to myself. I don’t splurge often, even though technically I could, but I just don’t usually see the point.
“Yeah, actually. My first car was a ’97 Skyline my Dad and I fixed up together. My baby. My parents still have it at their house. They have a huge pole barn my Dad keeps his projects in, and I couldn’t part with it.” she looks at me grinning like a little kid and it warms my heart.
“A Skyline, huh?” I prod. This is yet another little piece of the beautiful Charlie Adams puzzle. Each individual piece is pretty, but when you put them together they make a work of art.
“Yeah. I suppose I was maybe a little obsessed with those street racing movies. Still kind of am.” She shrugs, and I can’t help but to laugh.
We continue to talk about cars and our families. Surprisingly, Charlie knows a great deal about cars and rebuilding them. I venture to say that she may know more than me. Ok, so she definitely knows more than me.
We discover more about each other’s families and I end up telling her about my trust fund and inheritance, and that feels like yet another weight lifted from my chest. I honestly didn’t want her to view me differently, but she gets it. Gets me. Usually if people find out who I am, or who my parents are, they just look at me with dollar signs in their eyes, but that isn’t who I am. Never have been; my parents made damn sure of that. My siblings and I were never spoiled by anything other than love and attention.
She too grew up with a privileged upbringing, maybe not to the magnitude that old oil money ensures, but her father is the owner and CEO of an investment firm that caters to the agricultural industry, while her mother is a music professor at a local university.
We both grew up with knowing the value of hard work instilled in us by our parents. We were never just handed anything; we worked for it. We joke about the crazy summer jobs we both had as teenagers, and she surprises me by admitting she did oil changes at a local garage one summer. I tell her about the time I worked on a farm, and ran into the farmers fence with the tractor and as punishment I had to harvest an entire two acres of cotton by hand as my punishment. We both get a great laugh out of that.
“Well, we’re here.” I say, as I pull into the parking garage that belongs to my building.
Chapter 9
Charlie:
After parking in the parking garage, Andrew carries me to the entrance of his building. It’s a beautiful, new construction building, rising up into the city with walls of tinted glass windows. Fancy schmancy. He continues to carry me through the lobby, much to my chagrin, and it certainly draws some looks from the night staff in the lobby. Luckily its mostly clear due to the time of night. In the elevator, I can tell Andrew’s mood has taken a turn again and I feel him waging an internal war against himself. I honestly don’t know what to think, and my mind is racing with the possibilities.
Andrew sets me down and flips on the light switch as we enter his home and warm light assaults my eyes. Wow. I try to take in my surroundings without gawking, but his place is nice. Really nice. I mean I suppose I should have expected as much, but in my mind I pictured a messy bachelor pad. Even Tyler’s place, as pretentious as he is, was disgusting at best on most days, unless I cleaned it.
However, this…this is beautiful. It isn’t an extravagant penthouse by any means. I know Andrew could afford a place like that with what I know about his upbringing, but that is one of the many things I love about him. He is practical and not driven by money. I walk, well, kind of gimp, through the open space on my ankle to run my hand along the polished concrete island.
The space is industrial almost, but not sterile and cold. Rich red toned wood flooring, charcoal colored cabinetry with polished concrete counters. The walls are light gray, matching the massive plush rug in the center of the living room that is weighted down with an oversized leather sectional in a cognac color. A massive TV dominates the one wall that isn’t floor to ceiling black metal framed windows. It’s all so clean, but that isn’t what surprises me the most. It’s that it even smells clean. It smells like Laney and I’s apartment. Then I spot the candle and the wall plug ins and I have to laugh.
“What’s funny?” Andrew questions, breaking me from my thoughts.
“It smells good in here.” I tease eyeballing the wall plug in.
He smiles sheepishly like a little boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar.
“I bought this place a few months ago, and it still smelled like paint. When I came over that first time, your place just smelled homey and I sort of texted my Mom and sister to ask what to get.”
He sticks his hands in the pockets of his worn jeans and shrugs his tattooed biceps flexing in the process. Looking at him like this, I can’t think of anything other than the sudden burning need I have to feel his body against mine. I walk over to him and move to wrap my arms around him, but he stops my arms and quickly places a soft, dry kiss on my forehead. I can see the same pained expression in his eyes that was there earlier before the Tyler situat
ion happened.
“Andrew…” I trail off, not exactly knowing what to say, my face burning with the heat of my rejection.
“Oh Charlie, no.” He says wrapping me in his arms.
“I didn’t mean to offend you, you just had this look in your eye, and believe me I want to go there every bit as much as you. There are just things I need to talk to you about tonight. Things I need to say and I think you need to hear.”
“You’re scaring me. Did I do something wrong?” I mumble into his firm chest feeling my insecurities growing by the second.
“Oh no babe! No.” he assured leading me over to the couch by out intertwined fingers. “Here let’s sit down, you need to get the weight off that ankle and elevate.”
“I’m not really sure where you’re going with this, and to be truthful, you are kind of scaring me.” I confess.
He worries his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes scanning my face not focusing on any particular attribute.
“Andrew. Talk. What is wrong with you?”
“Ok,” he sighs, “I’m not a hundred percent sure how to go about this without upsetting you, so I’m just going to be blunt, get it all out and then you can ask me anything you want. Alright?”
I nod, feeling a lump in my throat. I have absolutely no idea where he is going with this and I’m terrified for what will come out of his mouth. Does he have a girlfriend, is he married, kids, weird fetish? What I’m not prepared for, is what actually does come out of this mouth.
“I know all about your accident, Charlie. I know you lost Abby. I was there at the hospital that night.”
I instantly freeze, and I feel like I’m going to vomit. In all honesty, I don’t really have a thought process about this. It is all just a lot at once. I know I have made a few comments, but we’ve never openly talked about it and he never has pushed. Obviously, I would have gone over everything eventually when I was ready, but wait…. If he was at the hospital… has he known all along? From the first tie we met? Anger starts to surge warmth back into my veins, and I’m ready for some answers.
Andrew:
I see it. I see the series of emotions displayed across her face and in her eyes as she processes what I just confessed. I’m just waiting on her to acknowledge it out loud. Baby steps.
“Explain.” She snaps. Well, crap.
“I put it all together tonight while you were on stage tonight. Some things made sense for me, and well... Let me just start from the beginning. I had absolutely no idea until tonight when your sister called you Thumper; then everything just clicked into place.” I grab ahold of her hands trying to get her to look at me, but she just continues to stare into her lap at our joined hands.
“I was called to the ER that night as I was getting ready to leave, due to a large incoming trauma and they were short-staffed. They told me later a drunk driver had broadsided a vehicle, pushing it into an intersection where it was hit from all sides. Anyways, one of the ambulances that I met outside had a girl in it…”
I have to take a second to steel myself for what comes next. “If this is too much, just tell me to stop.”
She nods still not meeting my eyes, so I continue. “This girl… Charlie, it was Abby. She was so broken; I’d never seen anything like it before.” All the emotion of that night comes rushing back, and tears fill my eyes. Shit, I don’t care if Charlie sees me cry. That night haunts me too for so many different reasons.
I force myself to continue, “But despite the injuries, when we got her out of the rig, she was completely lucid. I didn’t really realize it at the time, but she kept asking for Thumper. No one knew what she was talking about...” Charlie begins sobbing, but I know I need to continue so I pull her into my arms so I can hold her. “God Charlie, I had no idea what was going on at the time, but she loved you so fucking much. She kept telling me, to tell Thumper that she loved her, and to do what she wanted to do, not to stick to the plan…. I have no idea what that means to you, but she wanted me to relay the message. I knew there was another person that was in the car with her, but I had no idea it was you she was referring to, or that she was even lucid enough to make sense. Anyways, tonight when Kate started yelling that at you, and then said your friend Abby gave you that name, it all clicked. I knew you had been in an accident, but it just all fell into place.”
She lets out a strangled sob, “God, Andrew she was all alone and I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t be there… she was all alone.”
“Oh babe,” I hold on tighter, “she wasn’t alone. I was there the whole time. I held her hand the whole time Charlie. We did everything…everything we could, but there was nothing to be done once the debris was removed. It was holding everything in place. I’m so sorry baby, so fucking sorry.” At this point, we are both crying together. I’m not an overly emotional guy, but I’m crying for my own losses, the hurt, Charlie’s pain, Abby, and relief. Relief that Charlie is here, and I can hold her in my arms. Relief that I was able to tell her something that may provide her with a small amount of comfort, and relief that I finally know the hurt she’s carrying around physically and emotionally.
I just hold her and let her cry until she’s calmed down some “Tell me about what happened, about yourself, Abby, whatever you want. If you don’t want to, I’m not going to push, but I can tell you for certain that holding it in doesn’t help. It sits there like a splinter in your chest, just waiting with the constant threat of tearing you apart.”
There is a long pause, and I feel like she’s going to completely shut me down. I’m shocked when she opens her mouth and begins to speak.
Chapter 10
Charlie:
My mind is reeling from everything Andrew just told me, and while I am so confused as to why fate would bring this beautiful man into my life, I am relieved. It is like an enormous weight has been lifted with just him knowing the whole story. He does not ask if I’m ok, because he already knows I’m not. I don’t have to fake it around him because even though I don’t know what happened to his brother, I know he understands this kind of pain. The physical pain ebbs, but the pain of losing a piece of your soul doesn’t. Hearing that Abby knew me and loved me enough to tell me to do what I wanted and not stick to our plan in the last Moments of her life helps me more than anyone could ever know. It eases the guilt that I feel over the decisions that I know I need to make for my future. My future without Abby. I want to share my life with Andrew; so I tell him everything starting with the story of Abby and I’s friendship and all of the plans we made.
“So, may I ask what the extent of your injuries were?” Andrew says gently.
I have pretty much recounted everything up until the accident. This might be the hardest part. Recalling all of this and feeling guilty for feeling sorry for myself, and my personal losses when there are other people that lost everything that night.
“I have finished up with formal physical therapy, but I still work with a specialized trainer at the gym twice a week. I’m nearly where I want to be which is incredible because they weren’t sure how many of the injuries would have permanent effects, or even if I would be able to be as physically active as I once was.” I say. I know I’m where I am because I pushed myself. Physical pain was, or rather is a release, a distraction from the real pain I have been avoiding.
“I had a hairline fracture to my pelvis and a fracture in my left femur, complete break of my left radius and ulna, fractured collarbone, broken jaw that was wired shut for a few weeks. I had a brain bleed and was in a medically induced coma for a few days to reduce damage and swelling. I had a few broken ribs, a lacerated spleen, and I also had severe abdominal contusions and internal bleeding that led to a partial oophorectomy and scarring to my uterus. They told me it will be difficult to conceive children or ever carry to full term.” There it is in a nutshell. The one thing I wanted more than anything is now a minute possibility, and it shatters me. I feel the tears coming, and I try, I try so freaking hard to hold them in like I always do, but I can’t. Not t
his time. I can’t when I’m looking at this man, the man I love and I know I can’t give him what he will eventually want.
“Jesus, Charlie.” He says burying his face in my hair, and I lean into him, needing him. “My strong, beautiful girl… I’m so thankful for you.” he says taking my wet cheeks into his hands. “Charlie, I know it is so fast and it seems crazy, but I love you. I am in love with you. I love you so fucking much that I don’t think I could breathe without you.”
My heart stutters a beat at his confession, and I begin to cry harder, but from happiness this time. I am relieved that he feels this too. I look up into his clear blue eyes, shining with unshed tears, and I see nothing but love and adoration. It is my undoing to see Andrew display such unfiltered emotion.
“Andrew, it is soon.” I say. “Very soon actually, but I love you too. So much. I don’t even know how it happened, but you, this, us means everything to me.”
“Babe, there’s so much more I need to talk to you about, about me and…” he starts, but I don’t think my heart or my brain can take any more right now. All I want is to do is be wrapped Andrew’s warm arms in bed.
“No…” I cut him off before he can continue, “I honestly don’t think that I can handle any more tonight. Please just tell me later. Right now I just need you, and you need to get some sleep because you have to work early.” I say glancing at my watch realizing it is a lot later, or earlier, then either of us thought.
“Yes ma’am.” He smiles his beautiful dimpled smile. “I like it when my woman gets bossy.”
“Oh baby, you haven’t seen anything yet.” I tease as he scoops me up and carries me down the hallway to his bedroom.
It like the rest of his home is neat, tidy, and impeccably styled. Exposed brick spans one wall and windows span another. The large bed is anchored with a dark suede upholstered headboard and simple dove gray bedding. When he flips on the bedside lamp, I see a Herman Miller Eames chair in the corner facing the beautiful river view with equally beautiful Gretsch and Martin guitars on stands, and a pile of books beside the chair. I see the titles are varied, sci-fi, non-fiction, fantasy, classics.