by Harlow Brown
WE GOT THE CAR loaded up and all my equipment into the trunk. I said my good-byes to Jazz and Briar. Of course, it wouldn't be a proper send-off if Briar didn't threaten Whiskey some more.
"I love you Jazz. I'll call you, okay?"
"Yeah, be careful. And kick some ass. I'm going to try to break away because I can't fathom not being there to see you claim this championship. You’ve worked so hard for it and I sure as shit want to see you bring it home."
"You don't have to come, but I wouldn't complain if you and Briar were there."
I hopped in the driver's seat and Whiskey looked at me like I had two heads—maybe even purple and pink polka dotted ones. It’s too early on a Saturday morning for this guessing game bullshit. "You plan on walking to Panama City Beach or you going to get in?"
"I don't ride bitch. I drive."
Oh, this is going to be fun.
I was a little more than aggravated that he thought he could demand to drive my car. Alas, I didn't feel like being a total bitch, so I said, "Not today, you don't. It's my car. When you pay for it, you can tell me when I can drive it."
I hopped in and started her up. "Hensley was the last motherfucker that will ever demand something from me. So unless you plan on walking your fine self to the clubhouse, I suggest you get in because this bus is leaving."
Jazz and Briar shook their heads and giggled. "Dude, she ain't playing. Just get in." Briar laughed again.
Whiskey gave it a short second thought but reluctantly got in.
Assuming he was going to be pissy from not driving, I took the opportunity to tell him just how this was going down.
"I'm not entirely sure who you think you are, but I promise that you will not inform me of how things will go down in my own car. Got it?"
Those bourbon eyes grew big, and a grin covered his face. "Yes, ma'am. I got it."
"Why are you grinning like that?"
"Briar told me you were spunky, and I guess he wasn't kidding. Did you just need to warm up to me? I mean, you put me in my place real damn fast the other night on the porch, but there wasn't any harshness in these words. It's kind of sexy."
I waved at Jazz and Briar and put on my seat belt, took a deep breath, and shifted her into reverse before slowly backing out. I was on a mission, a mission to lose the old me, the one who was lost three years ago after the accident, the one who found comfort in Hensley. I wasn't bringing that girl home.
It started with taking the national title. I had a point to prove to myself and the world. I'm not some timid flower anymore who is afraid of the sunlight. No, fuck that. I'm the whole goddamned thorn bush. I'm soft and gentle when I need to be, but I'm also strong and sharp.
My scars were my thorns, a permanent reminder that I was never going to be that girl again.
"For your information, I am warmed up to you. Besides, it's too damn early to be bossed around. I need coffee. You want me to stop?"
"Sure, I could use some get-up-and-go seeing as mine feels like it got up and went."
HER CAR WAS awesome. Leather, Bose sound system, navigation—it was totally tricked out. Saying this car was badass was an understatement. It was enough to make a grown man bust a nut in his pants just by merely riding in it, and the blonde bombshell didn't hurt its appearance any.
She put her MP3 player on Aerosmith's “Back in the Saddle” and jammed out. The girl couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, but she sure was cute trying. I could tell she meant the lyrics she sang too. She was back. If this was a glimpse of the Charlie that Jazz and Briar knew, then I was a fucking goner. Oh hell, I already was. She owned me, and I knew it. She was driving, after all, and that spoke volumes. No girl drove me on anything—not a bike, not a car. Nothing.
"Babes, what's this thing got under the hood?"
"It’s a 5.4 Shelby GT 500 V8."
"How fast you had it?"
"I don't like to go crazy fast, so the fastest I've had it is about ninety. I'm more into punching it and pinning my head back to the seat."
So she likes power. How ideal is this girl?
"Or when guys think I can't hang, I just wave real cute and grab the wheel and punch it, blow their fucking doors off," she interrupted my thoughts. I caught a mischievous grin just before my head was pinned to the seat faster than I could imagine as we sped down the road.
"Damn, girl, a little warning next time?"
She just laughed at me. She looked gorgeous doing it too. I wasn't real sure what happened to her, but I was digging the new, lighter Charlie.
I just smiled at her and tried to drink my coffee. Emphasis on tried, as every time I would get it to my mouth she would goose the gas and then grin at me more. Yes, she was going to be my undoing. She would be the sole reason I lived or died. She held my fate in her hands and had no idea.
"Babes, can we talk?"
"Sure, but I meant what I said earlier. The old me is back. I'm real damned honest and can be crude. Don't ask if you don't really want to hear my thoughts. I won't sugarcoat them."
"Do you trust me?"
"Oddly enough, yes. With everything in me. I don't understand it."
"Well, at least there's that on my side. I want to know you. I want to know about your parents, your ball team, the friendships you have on that team, your situation with Hensley, everything. The good, the bad, the ugly, and everything in between."
"Why?"
"How honest do you want me to be? I don't want to freak you out, but I want to be completely honest too."
"First, I've dealt with more shit in the past three years than most deal with ever, so I can handle anything you throw at me. Second, if I find out you lied, or didn't tell me the whole truth about anything, I will hurt you. You will sleep, and I will take full advantage of your slumber. Understand?"
"Got it. Do you want to know? It's liable to freak you out, really." I could tell that she did, but was scared to hear what I had to say all at the same time. "I want to know everything about you because…." Fuck, here goes nothing. Or here goes everything, I should say.
"Because?"
"Because you amaze me. Your strength, your fight, your spirit, your everything." I looked at her to make sure I hadn’t gone too far. "I find myself wanting a lot of things with you. I want to tell you shit about me that no one else knows, not even my brothers. But I'm tired of carrying it around. I can't…."
"Whiskey, you can't heal until you let yourself. You need to do whatever you feel needs to be done to accomplish that. I won’t judge you. I promise once you hear my deepest darkest secret that you will look like a saint. So it's okay to tell me, but why now? Why going eighty on the interstate? Why not when we were talking some other time?"
"Honestly, it's because we’re going eighty, and you’re locked in a car with me, and vehicular homicide is frowned upon. I feel safe right now."
She snickered at me. "Well played, Whiskey. Well played."
"Will you open up to me? Let me help you?"
"Depends. Will you do the same with me?"
"I think I'm ready, but I'm scared I'm going to run you off."
"Talk."
"Where to start?" How was I going to tell her that I was a recovering cocaine addict? Or that I knowingly gave Angie drugs and she lost the baby?
"How about from the beginning? I've always been a fan of chronological order. What happened that was so bad in Texas?"
"I got my ex hooked on cocaine."
"Well don't hold back!"
"That's not the worst. I got her pregnant."
As I looked at her to gauge her feelings, I saw the color drain from her face. She didn't reply. Dead silence enveloped the car.
"Say something, please," I begged.
"Is that all?"
"No. The rest is painful, and I can't ever forget it, unfortunately."
"Go on."
"I was pretty fucked up myself. Angie was just a good fuck and a good time. Then one night after about six months, she told me that she was pregnant. I was so messed up t
hat I didn't make her stop using. I went to bed a couple days later, after that high was wearing off, and somehow sanity came through the cocaine-induced fog. I haven't used in about three months, but Angie never stopped. She overdosed, and she lost our child because of it."
"Oh my God."
"In my defense, I tried to help her. I tried to reason with her, tried to get her help. She was only worried about her next bump. She didn't care about that baby or the fact that she lost it. I stayed around for a while trying to get her clean, but she only got worse. She started cheating. She would fuck a dude for a nose full of blow. Your typical crack whore stuff. I'm the one to blame for the whole situation."
"Whiskey?"
We were slowing down and going through some little town in eastern Arkansas at that point. We didn't have too much farther to go before we saw Tennessee. I looked out the window and saw a couple stores and a hotel. She pulled into the hotel parking lot.
"Charlie, what are you doing?"
"Getting a room. This shit isn't to discuss while driving down the road. I need to listen and really look at you."
"I'll go in and pay them. Be right back."
"It's my idea. I don't want to put you out. I'll get it."
"I make enough money with the club, babes. I got this."
I turned and went in to pay for a room. I expected her to fight me. I also expected to come out to find that she had left me, but she stayed. I found her in the same spot she was in. Relief swept over me at the sight of her still in her 'stang.
"All they have is a single room. I asked for a cot so you could have the bed."
"Thank you."
I could only stare at her. I just told her that I pretty much killed my unborn child, and she’s thanking me? Is she real? Am I dreaming?
Then I remembered she said that she wouldn't judge me because of her own reasons.
Holy shit. Just how bad is it?
ALL RIGHT, MAYBE he doesn't have room to judge me. And perhaps he won't hate me and think I'm the scum of the earth. I sure hope not, anyhow. I do believe him when he said he wouldn't tell Briar and Jazz, but he couldn't possibly want to still help me when he finds out the kind of power Hensley ultimately held over me. When Whiskey finds out I chose my own wellbeing over—
"What all do you want to take in, Charlie?" he interrupted my thoughts.
"Just let me grab some clothes out of my suitcase and my overnight bag. I'll get it, thanks."
Going to the trunk, I tried to reach around Whiskey to get my stuff and he lightly touched my arm. I looked at the point of connection, and then my eyes slowly traced the lines our bodies made until I looked at his face. Sadness and shame coated his beautiful features. I knew that look all too well; I wore it often.
"Whiskey, I don't like what you told me, not even a little bit, but I'm no saint, okay?" I stopped speaking so I could get his attention. When our eyes finally met, I simply replied, "I mean it."
A short pause in thought and time. Nothing happened; we just stared into each other's eyes. "Come on, let's go in. I'm about to change your opinion of me. Maybe once you hear my horror story, you'll finally see why I won't ever pass judgment on you, nor will I condemn you for your past. We all have one. Some are just dirtier than others."
I stepped into the room and thought a second. What happens if he hates me? My situation is a little different than his. I was in control. It was my choice. What if he wants to go back? What about the Regulators?
"Babes, what is it?"
"I don't want you to hate me, but it's totally understandable if you do. If you decide you don't want anything else to do with me, then I will pay for your rental car home."
"I can't hate you. It isn't possible. You’re the only person I’ve ever told that to, and the look in your eyes told me you didn't utterly despise the ground I walk on or want to poison the air I breathe. It’s the polar opposite of hating you."
So many thoughts entered my mind, a cyclone of words and memories and worries flying at one hundred miles an hour in a circle, and me in the eye of the storm. Of course, I was. It was in my head. I knew this all too well.
"This isn't the greatest, Charlie. Do you want to go down the road a little ways and see if you can find something a little nicer?"
"No, all I need is a bed and a shower. What on Earth made you ask that?"
"It's the equivalent of a Motel 6. I just thought you might like something a little nicer."
"I'm not a hotel snob. A bed and a shower are all I need. I'm not fancy."
"I know, and I love that about you."
I gave him a shy smile and jumped backward on the bed, spread-eagle.
Without thinking about it anymore, I blurted, "I was ten weeks."
He spun around and looked at me laid out on the bed. I was opened up completely; sprawled out and open-armed, spilling my guts to him, physically and emotionally vulnerable.
"Babes."
"He was pissed off that I had gotten pregnant. He questioned if it was his and if I did it on purpose."
I brought my body upright and pulled my knees to my chest. Wrapping my arms around them, I hugged myself, thinking I was safer somehow.
"Charlie?" He walked over to me, but I stopped him in his tracks when I started speaking again.
"Bastard. Of course, I didn't do it on purpose. As a matter of fact, after doing the math and figuring in my head, I remember the night I had to have conceived. He had taken me out to dinner with Jazz and Briar. When we got home, he took my coat, like a gentleman. I thought he was keeping his promise that time, that he was changing and maybe, just maybe, we would be okay. But the bastard picked me up and threw me on the couch. I landed on my belly and face."
"Charlie, what can I do?"
Without thinking, I replied, "Just shut up and listen."
"Okay then, go on," he said, surprise and shock lacing his voice.
"He came to me, grabbed my hands and pulled them behind my back, and said, 'I'm going to make you pay for that nice night out.’"
I shut my eyes as memories of the events flooded down my cheeks. All at once, I felt Whiskey's big, thick, muscular arms surround me and his soft, warm lips on the top of my head. It didn't freak me out; I welcomed the outpouring of sincere affection he bestowed upon me. I knew in that instant that this man was my saving grace. I felt it deep down in my soul that this broken man, with issues as deep as mine, would be the one who healed my heart and made it okay to love again.
"Shh, babes, I get it. You were raped and got pregnant. I don't need the gory details. Just let me hold you, okay? Let me try to make it better."
So I did. I let him stroke my hair and shush me until I quit sobbing. Then I turned to him, looking into those honey bourbon-colored eyes, and said, "He told me I could choose to live, or that we would both die—talking about the baby, of course. I begged, Whiskey. I fucking begged him to let us keep the baby. I thought that maybe a baby was what we needed to fix us, to get us over the hump."
"Charlie, I get it. You don't have to explain."
"Yes, yes I do. No one knows except for him. I need someone to hear my side. Please hear me out before you leave me."
"Babes, I can't leave you. You are what I've needed since… well, forever. It only took me making a couple hundred mistakes to find you."
What? Did I hear him right? I turned away from him and continued my horror story while I still had the courage.
"After he told me he wasn't raising a bastard child of someone else's, I went to a clinic out of town and paid cash to have it taken care of. No papers to sign, no insurance to claim. That day only God, the doctor, and I knew what was going on. Hensley found out that night."
There it was, out in the open. I had admitted out loud that I had killed my child.
He turned me back towards him so I had to see him and said, "He would have killed you, Charlie. Just from what I’ve seen in the last few days, I totally believe that. I just can't imagine wanting to kill you or a baby, especially one he created."
Deep down I knew what he said was true. Hensley would have killed me, without a doubt. It still hurt the same, though.
"The worst part is the doctor told me I wouldn't conceive again. I was lucky to conceive at all. Apparently, my uterus is deformed and shaped like a heart, so to speak. It's like there’s a divider in there, so there’s like two compartments. That’s how he dumbed it down for me to understand it."
Whiskey's eyes searched mine; I could tell he wanted to make it better, that he wanted to take away all the hurt. Sadly, there wasn't anything he could do. I’d ruined the only shot at becoming a mom. Granted the timing sucked, and the father was a douche, but it was the only chance I’d have.
"Charlie, I don't agree with abortion, but you had no choice. He would’ve killed you. Thank you so much for trusting me with your secret. Now maybe we can help each other heal and cope with our pasts. Will you let me in, Charlie? Will you let me be your safe place?"
Tears formed again. "I'm so conflicted. My heart says yes, but my head is screaming no." I stopped a second, and as a thought crossed my mind, I giggled. At a time like that, I fucking giggled.
I’ve lost my damn mind.
WHAT’S GOTTEN INTO her? "Charlie, are you okay?"
"Yeah, just some of Daddy's words of wisdom came to me again."
"What did he say that was so funny?"
"He told me that if I were ever in a place that I had to choose between what my head and heart wanted, I should always choose my heart," she said as she stood up to move away from me.
A puzzled look overtook my face as I said, "I'm missing what’s so funny, babes."
"Reason being, your heart is smart enough to keep your dumb ass alive when you’ve let your head convince you to get into a shitty situation."
"I wish I could’ve met them. Will you tell me about your parents?"
"Yes, but I have to know if you can still look at me the same now that you know what you know."
I walked up to her and held her face in my hands. All I could do was get lost in her eyes. How could she even think I would judge her or her past? Jesus Christ, she did it to stay alive. I bent my head down to hers and kissed the top of it. She backed away so she could see my face. Now’s as good a time as any. "Charlie, I look at you and I see an incredible, gorgeous young woman who’s had life served to her on a shit platter, but you never gave up. You never stopped. And you did it mostly alone. You are amazing. You make me want to be a decent human being, and as cliché as it is, I think I'm falling in love with you. How could I not? You’re smoking hot, fiercely strong, and independent. I'm in awe of you. So if it's okay with you, I'd like to keep you."