Absolution

by S. Kirkpatrick

  We stare at each other for what feels like a couple of minutes and I guess she realizes at some point that I’m not a threat to her. I watch as her hands come down to her sides, but she remains standing a few feet away from me.

  With an unobstructed view of her face, I can now see how drop-dead sexy she is. There’s no way in hell this girl is from around here. I could see from the back that she had long black hair, but now I see that she’s got fringe bangs, trying to hide her eyes from the world. She’s got a fit frame, with a muscular build that shows me she’s no stranger to working out. Sun-kissed skin lays underneath her tank top and shredded denim shorts. I would expect to see some type of girly shoe on her feet, but I smile to myself as I notice worn-out combat boots folded toward her ankles.

  I already know I’ll make her leave those on when I fuck her. Because believe me when I say that there’s no way I’m letting her sexy ass roll out of town without sinking my dick inside her tiny little body first.

  Sometimes I love tourists.

  I glance back at her face in time for the wind around us blows her bangs up and around. I find myself mesmerized by eyes that appear to be yellow. I angle my head a little further in her direction, squinting my eyes for a better look.

  “You have yellow eyes, Little Wolf.” I say, breaking the silence.

  She shakes her head in confusion as if she’s unsure if she heard me correctly.

  “You hungry?” I ask, wanting to prolong our time a little more. I find myself intrigued to get to know the girl with yellow eyes.

  I can’t remember the last time I was intrigued by anyone, let alone a woman.

  “You don’t even know me.”

  I laugh at the brashness in her tone. “That’s why I invited you to sit and eat with me. That’s how people in the real world get to know each other.”

  I hold up a taco as a peace offering, showing her the food that I intend to share with her. She glances all around us as if expecting to find someone else who may have stumbled upon my secret slice of the beach. When she’s satisfied, or resigned, that it’s just me, she takes a tentative seat beside me.

  “What is it?” She asks, nodding toward the food.

  I can’t decide if I should be appalled or humored by the fact that she has clearly never seen a fish taco before, proving that I was right by assuming that she’s definitely not from around here.

  ”Walk on the wild side, Little Wolf.” I joke, dancing around her question. I tear off the top half of my to-go box to use as a plate for her, filling it up with a little bit of everything, grateful that I asked Vince to fill it up today.

  She takes the makeshift plate from my hands and places it on her lap, eyeing me, without taking a bite. I try not to focus on her too much as I eat what’s left of my food, not wanting to make it awkward.

  “Why are you being so nice to me?” She asks.

  “Why are you being so weird to me?” I retort.

  “I don’t trust people as a matter of principle.”

  “Sounds like a lonely life to live.”

  She looks away. “Yeah. It is.”

  She finally takes her first bite as I finish shoving my last one in my mouth. I set the trash on the ground next to me and slowly move to lay on my side, propped up on my elbow. I try to make it appear as though I’m looking at the waves peeking out from the rocks surrounding the little cove, but make no mistake, my attention is one hundred percent focused on her through the corner of my eye.

  It gives me time to catalog tiny features and mannerisms that I’m hoping will paint a larger, clearer, image of the girl sitting before me. I’m used to girls around here using their looks to their advantage, but she appears to be trying her damndest to hide hers.

  There’s not a speck of makeup on her gorgeous face. It gives me an unobstructed view of her dark, long, full lashes, falling like crescents against the top of her cheeks as she peers downward. Her pouty lips are naturally tinted a dark pink, matching the flush of skin along her collarbone. There’s no polish or acrylics on her nails, she’s all-natural from what I can see. Very different from everyone else around here.

  She carries herself with a hard exterior so obvious that even a stranger can see it like a second skin. The Little Wolf is guarded, that’s for sure. But there’s something deeper there, lurking behind her eyes. Something that I find myself desperate to find out more about.

  “It’s Remi, by the way.” She whispers.

  I turn my head slightly, eyeing her with an unspoken question.

  “My name.” She says as if she’s shocked to be telling me this. “My name is Remi.”

  “You look like a lone wolf to me.” I smile back.

  She nods her head approvingly, tucking her eyes behind the curtain of her hair once again.

  “So are you on vacation with friends or family?”

  “Neither. Just passing through.” She says too quickly.

  “Ah, a gypsy soul. That fits. How long are you in town?”

  “Until it’s time to move on.”

  There’s something about the way she answers the question that grips at my chest. Her words are coated in so much sadness. It’s as if she’s not looking forward to the expiration date. Although she’s apparently come here on her own, it’s as if she’s a puppet on a string, not in control of her own path.

  I tell her my name and soon after and we quickly fall into easy conversation together. I watch as she relaxes for the first time since I walked up on her. She grants me the greatest mercy of my life thus far by releasing the glue on her beautiful pink lips and letting a shy smile bust from the seams.

  Slowly, in our private little cove, she shows me a part of her that I imagine she doesn’t show much of anyone.

  Her.

  She shows me the parts she masks over. The beauty she’s capable of radiating. A smile that could solar power the entire goddamn state. It’s pure and untethered, the way her soul feels when she talks about the things she likes, which isn’t much at all. But those few things that matter to her, they matter to her with all that she is.

  We talk about everything and nothing, all at the same time. It’s easy to share your hopes and dreams with a stranger, not having any illusions or preconceived notions to uphold. Yet she doesn’t seem to have much ambition besides just being free. A part of me immediately chalks that up to her having a bright and beautiful gypsy soul. The larger part of me is sad that there’s nothing in her life that means enough to her to want it for more than a fleeting moment.

  I’ve spent the better part of my life working towards aspirations with my friends, my brothers. Seeing someone without them almost feels like a foreign concept.

  Is there nothing that this girl actually wants?

  Eventually, she lays back on the sand, propped up on her elbow, facing me. She’s no longer checking her surroundings, worried about what might be coming around the corner. I do however notice that every shuffle of sand, oncoming sound, or change in noise levels around us has her body clenching in place. I can’t tell if she’s paranoid or just super jumpy, but I notice her reaction each and every time. I don’t mention it because I figure if she thought anything of it, she’d say something about it or laugh it off.

  But she never does.

  I don’t pressure the conversation between us at any point, it seems to flow on its own accord. I’ve spent the better part of our time together smiling and laughing, something that doesn’t really happen outside of the guys. There’s this calm, comfortable, and magnetic energy between us. It’s something I feel in my fingertips as I force myself to keep my hands busy by drawing circles in the sand between us rather than reaching out and touching her like I so desperately want to.

  The later it gets, the cooler the air grows around us. Little goosebumps pop up on her arms, and as much as I want to protest, I know it’s about time to call it a night. The thought irritates me more than I’d like it to, considering I’ve only just met her. But there’s
something about this girl that makes me want to keep laying here, talking until we both pass out, unable to keep our eyes open or mouths moving any longer.

  I’m not ready to walk away just yet. Against my internal protests, the inevitable always comes.

  “I should get going.” She says when a shiver passes through her body.

  My stomach clenches at her words, wishing it wasn’t the case. Together we stand, dusting the sand off our bodies, and gathering the trash from our lunch. When she stands back up after we’ve finished, a gust of wind blows her hair all around her face, blocking her from my view. When it settles down again, I can’t keep my tingling fingers at bay any longer and allow myself to reach over and help pull her hair back, her glowing yellow eyes meet mine.

  “I wanna see you again.” I blurt out.

  She bites the corner of her lip, mulling over the plea I laid at her feet. Her head cocks slightly to the side as she examines me, looking for what, I have no clue. Her beautiful eyes bore into me and I find myself unwilling to blink so that I don’t miss a moment of whatever she’s searching for.

  The continued silence leaves me feeling scrutinized under her stare, I start to shuffle my feet in an uncharacteristically nervous way that feels strange to my body. Just as I think she’s about to shoot me down, tell me that the attraction I’ve been feeling tonight was all one-sided, she smiles at me.

  “Please don’t make me regret saying yes.”

  “That’s my number one goal.” I tell her, more confidentially than I feel.

  This strange girl, so very out of place in this town, has captivated my attention like no one else ever has. Aside from her being sexy as hell and funny beyond belief, I honestly don’t know why. But I damn sure wanna figure it out.

  We walk together up the beach, in no great hurry to arrive at our final destination. She moves to stand a little closer than she’s been all night and I swear to the gods I can feel the richness of her body heat next to me. Something I’ve never noticed in another person before.

  As we arrive at the point where we have to go our separate ways to get to our vehicles, she turns to me to make plans for tomorrow. Again, she steps a little closer, enveloping me in the warmth that is slowly becoming my latest obsession. The scent of cinnamon wafting off of her in drugging doses.

  “I have a feeling I’m going to like you too much for my own good.” She whispers.

  “I’m pretty sure I already do.”

  Her lips twitch as if she considers reaching out to kiss me, but I won’t be that guy. Not yet. Not when I know my time with her is already limited. I want to know everything there is to know about the yellow-eyed wolf.

  I need to figure out how to make her stay.

  How to make her mine.

  All at once the thought of her leaving town and going wherever the wind takes her makes my stomach quake with unease. I can’t shake the feeling that she wound up here, in my town, for me. I know it sounds crazy, downright certifiable, but it feels right.

  She feels right.

  And I’m in no hurry to change that.

  I was drawn to that girl from the very beginning. I knew, even back then, that she was it for me. I have never craved anything as badly as I craved her smiles, her happiness.

  When I was younger, my mom used to tell me that you could tell what real love was if you cared about their happiness more than your own. It wasn’t just that I cared about Remi’s more than I cared about my own though. I just cared about her happiness more than I cared about anything else at all.

  “What happened then?” Max asks, confused.

  All the memories, the laughs, the love, the tears… They all come spilling out before I can decide what I actually want to say. I tell her everything as I remember them, all as if it was happening right before my eyes.

  “Remi has always had a gypsy soul. She never liked staying put for too long. The first time I met her, she was only with me for a month before she took off. We spent every day together. I would go days at a time without even talking to the guys because I was so wrapped up in her. I knew, even back then, each time she woke up in my arms and smiled at me, I was looking at my whole future. I never questioned it.

  “But I knew what I was getting into. When it was time to let her go, I did. I’ll never forget how bad it hurt to let her go, but I knew that she’d come back. I couldn’t explain it then, I can’t explain it now, I just knew.

  “It went on like that for several years until a few months before the guys and I left for LA. She wouldn’t tell me why she couldn’t come with me, but I didn’t push it. I convinced myself that when I came back to Deacon Hill, she’d find her way back. That’s the thing about my Little Wolf, she’s more stubborn than you are. And back then I was so fucking drunk on her that I thought she could do no wrong. I didn’t want to kill the spark that she was, so I let her go, trusting that she’d find her way back in my arms when it was time.”

  I can look back on those memories with less hostility than the others because back then she really had done no wrong. Yeah, our relationship was all kinds of weird, and I waited on her each time she left. But what we had was pure and real. I knew she was guarded, I knew she didn’t trust anyone but me, something I held onto with pride.

  There’s something to be said about when a woman lets her guard down with you. When each time she lays her head on your chest, she sighs with relief, knowing that she can let her walls down, allowing herself to be weak and trusting you not to hurt her.

  “About a year of us being in LA, she found me again. She told me that she didn’t like being without me and that she wanted to make a real life with me. I had waited years to hear her say those words to me. I mean, I pined for this girl. Day and night, she was all I wanted. In hindsight, it really wasn’t healthy how devoted I was to her, especially when she was gone. But I convinced myself that she was it for me. Why fuck around with anything else when I knew it wouldn’t compare to her? It seemed like a waste of time.”

  My leg starts bouncing without my permission, giving away the emotions that I’m trying so hard not to let seep into my voice. My body tenses up, bracing itself against the pain that I’m about to relive out loud for the first time since any of it happened.

  Max, the sweet loving mother of our group, puts her hand on my bouncing knee, reassuring me without words.

  I breathe in and out a few times, wishing to hell and back that Remi would have just stayed gone. If she would have never come to LA, then our lives would have been so much different. We could have parted ways with nothing but fond memories. She could have left us unbroken, unscarred. I eventually would have moved on where I could have loved her in a piece of my heart forever.

  But she just had to come back.

  She just had to hammer the final nail in our coffin.

  “LA was the longest I ever got to be with her. Our lives were perfect. I mean it was pathetic how happy and in love we were. It was the shit Nicholas Sparks movies are made of. We were engaged and planning a wedding when I came home from work one day to find a mini plastic claw-foot bathtub sitting on the kitchen counter. There were hundreds of rubber ducks inside and spilling out of it. They were all over the counter, the floor, everywhere.”

  My voice begins to crack, remembering that day. A day that was meant to be one of the happiest days of my life has since become one of the most painful.

  “I walked to the counter, wading through all the ducks.”

  “You mean waddling right?” Max smiles.

  I muster up a weak smile back at her, nodding at her pun. She looks embarrassed when she realizes that the comment hurts me. I know it’s not her fault, she doesn’t know what comes next. I can’t begrudge her for having such a lighthearted response.

  I continue on, needing to get through this before my emotions clog my voice any further.

  “I get to the bathtub and see a box that’s shaped like a jewelry box, ya know, the long and skinny kind? I open it up an
d there’s a note on top that says ‘Rub a dub dub, Baby Cummings in the tub!’ Underneath it was a positive pregnancy test.”

  Max gasps at the revelation, knowing damn good and well I don’t have any children. She may think she has an idea where this story is going, but she has no fucking idea.

  The first hot tears fall from my eyes, dripping on my shorts, leaving wet spots in their wake. A visual representation of the growing pain I’ve lived with for so many years.

  “We found out soon after that we were having a baby girl. We were going to name her Oaklynn, after my grandfather who had died just a few months before. We postponed the wedding, wanting to wait until our daughter could be a part of it. But none of that ever happened.”

  I angrily swipe away the tears that are falling at a rapid pace. I don’t want to hurt every time I think about my daughter. I wish I had a single fucking memory of her to hold on to, but I never got the chance.

  I turn from Max long enough to pick up my wallet that’s laying on the bedside table. With an easy hand, being sure not to tear the only photo I have left of her, I hand Max the ultrasound picture that I’ve kept in my wallet every single day since the day I got it. She takes it from me with shaky fingers, remembering how close she came to losing her baby girls.

  “A couple of weeks after we found out she was a girl, the same day I bought and set up her crib, everything changed. I went to sleep with Remi on my chest and woke up to an empty bed. On her cold pillow, her engagement ring rested on top of a folded note, explaining what she didn’t have the guts to say to my face.”

  I reach back in my wallet, pulling out the note in question. The note that I keep tucked behind the photo of my daughter. The note that changed my life forever. That changed me forever. I damn sure haven’t been the same since the day that I got it.

  I hand it to Max so that she can see for herself why I’m so fucked up lately.

  Brody,

  I’m sorry. I know by the end of this letter that it won’t matter to you, but I need to say it anyway. Because no matter what you may believe, it’s the truth. I love you. With all that I am and all I will ever be, I love you.