Break The Line

by Allison Mullinax

  “Me?” he says, seemingly shocked. I don’t know how I went from the bliss I was feeling just a few short moments ago to the dread I now feel, settling deep in my chest. Jackson scrambles to his feet and kicks his foot into Benson’s fender before stomping off down the road. By the smell of him, he probably walked here from the bar.

  “Just go, Benson,” I say, turning to walk back into the house.

  “Are you kidding me, Danni?” he says, following me, but all I can hear are Jackson’s words, threatening to never let me see L.J. again, and it feels like I’m losing him all over.

  “Don’t you get it, Benson. I can’t have both!” I say, turning to face him. His nose is dripping blood onto his shirt and pooling on the ground. If I don’t send him away now, I’ll never be able to let him go.

  He lets out a frustrated yell, and adds another boot print to his fender beside Jackson’s. “We’re back to this? After everything? You know what, fine,” he says, shoving his hand into his pocket and pulling out his keys. “Somewhere along the line we got on the same page, you’re just too damn scared to admit it to yourself. You’re scared, Danni! I can’t pretend to know what you went through, but Jesus Christ, all I’m asking is to just . . . be with you. I’m not asking you to forget him, or for it to stop mattering, or to choose. Damn it! I’m just asking to let me love you, too. Yeah, I said it,” he says, flinging his door open and slamming it shut.

  As his taillights grow dim in the distance, they finally disappear behind a cloud of dirt at the end of the road. I walk back into the house, not sure if I feel relief that I don’t have to feel so damn guilty anymore, or if I just made the biggest mistake of my life.

  Chapter Eleven

  Benson

  “Damn it!” I slam my hands against the steering wheel, refusing to look back at her this time. She’s been fighting me every step of the way, and after tonight, I can’t believe we are right back where we started. After everything. I stomp my foot on the gas pedal, trying to put as much distance between myself and my heart lying in the dirt. My truck fishtails through the stop sign leading to downtown, and the only thing stopping me from going eighty all the way to my hotel room is the ungodly number of traffic lights placed at every block. “Just fucking turn green,” I shout to no one since I’m the only car on the road. I bring my fist down on the dash, then lean my head back and close my eyes, pissed and heartbroken. One emotion threatening to pull me completely under.

  “Hey,” a female voice shouts through my busted-out passenger window. I jump in my seat, and see Liza standing on the sidewalk, wide-eyed. “What the hell happened to you?” she asks. I remember my nose and bring the sleeve of my shirt up, smearing snot and thick blood all over my face. “Pull over.” She points to the front of her clinic. “Where is Danni?” she asks, suddenly panicked.

  “She’s at home, having my heart for dinner,” I say, reluctantly pulling over to the curb. I get out and slam my truck door. I lean my forearms on the hood, and rest my forehead in between them. “I can’t win, can I?” I ask, not looking up at Liza. The sound of gravel crunching under another car grows louder. It pulls up behind me, and honks the horn.

  “It’s all right, Tommy,” Liza shouts to a man getting out and walking over to us. The name causes my head to pop up. “This is Benson,” she says, giving Tommy a look. He extends his hand out to me, studying my appearance. He towers over Liza, and his beard only adds to his intimidating stature.

  “Danni do that to you?” he asks, cringing and shaking my hand.

  “Come on inside and I’ll get you fixed up,” Liza says, not waiting for me to answer before she’s sliding a key in the lock of her clinic. I push off the truck and follow her inside, Tommy trailing behind me.

  I can hear Beau whining in the back of the hospital as I stand in the lobby waiting for Liza to return. “Liza mentioned you and Danni were . . . uhh . . . going out tonight?” Tommy asks. He’s standing against the reception desk, his hands in his pockets, just as unsure what to say to me as I am to him.

  “She took me to see L.J. if that’s what you mean? You wanna hit me for it too?” I say, getting ready for another fight.

  Tommy holds his hands in the air in surrender. “No man, you look like you’ve had enough,” he says with a friendly smile. “I take it didn’t go so well.”

  “No, it went just fine. The whole damn night was fine . . . until—” I begin, but the sound of nails clacking on the linoleum floor causes me to pause. Beau comes bounding down the hallway, tongue hanging out of his mouth, and I swear he’s smiling. I crouch down just when he reaches me, spinning in circles and jumping on me. He nuzzles his head against my chest, knocking me over on the floor. I rub the hair behind his ears. “Hey boy, you feelin’ better?”

  “He really likes you.” I look up as Beau licks the dried blood from my chin, and Liza is standing there holding a first aid kit. “I mean, Beau’s a friendly dog, but he doesn’t even greet me like that,” she says.

  After a few minutes of dancing excitedly around me on the floor, Beau plops his heavy body down next to me and rests his head on my thigh. “You kept your end of the deal, buddy, but it doesn’t look like I’m going to be able to keep mine,” I say, forgetting everyone else standing in the room.

  Liza bends down beside me, kit in hand, and hands me a warm washcloth. “Here, clean your face off, and then I’ll take a look. What happened?” she says, stroking Beau’s back. Tommy hops up on the counter, feet dangling but toes still grazing the floor, waiting for me to finish the story.

  “I saw him. I’m sorry about what happened,” I say sincerely, and for the first time during the night I feel guilty. How many times have I done the same thing? How many times am I racing to get back to the weigh station, or to that perfect fishin’ spot before anyone else, without a second thought to who or what is in the water. I dab the washcloth to my face. The pain and pressure around my nose is nothing compared to what I’m feeling in my chest. I rub the ache forming behind my sternum. “She told me the whole story.” Liza looks up at Tommy and they both exchange another look.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I just can’t believe she went through with it. I thought she would bail,” Liza says, then shrugs her shoulders. “She’s never come close to letting anyone in the way she’s let you in. And I mean no disrespect, Benson, but you’re a fisherman. I know you had nothing to do with what happened with L.J., any logical person knows that, but Danni doesn’t think logically when it comes to what happened. Obviously,” she says, pointing to my nose.

  “Danni didn’t do this,” I say, shaking my head. “We went back to her place and uhh . . . hung out for a while,” I say, and Liza raises her eyebrows at me, holding back a snicker. I roll my eyes at her and continue, “Then someone named Jackson showed up. From what I gather, it was someone in L.J.’s family. His brother, I think.” Tommy hops off the counter top and walks over to us, something in my words catching his attention.

  “Jackson has never been anything but a hothead looking for trouble. He probably just used L.J. as an excuse to start a fight,” Liza says, smoothing a bandage over the bridge of my nose.

  “Did you know Jackson was back in town?” Tommy asks Liza, and she nods her head yes.

  “Yeah, well, he got a fight. I was going to let him say his piece, but then he shoved Danni and I don’t know . . . I lost it. He told her she couldn’t see L.J. anymore. She feels like she has to choose. So . . . here I am. I got the boot.” Beau takes a deep sigh, his head still resting in my lap, as if he knows what is going on around him. I rustle the fur on his back, and stand.

  “Jackson doesn’t get a say on who sees L.J. or not,” Liza says, standing and pulling out her cell phone. Her fingers work lightning fast over the keypad.

  “He may not get a say, but I’m sure whoever does is lending a listening ear to Jackson right now. All I’m doing here is causing her trouble,” I say with m
y hands on my hips.

  Liza puts the phone to her ear and waits. “This is Dr. Liza James. I was informed that my brother Jackson was there this evening. As L.J.’s guardian ad litem, I would like to be informed from this point forward if Jackson steps foot inside that facility, or makes any idiotic demands concerning who shall or shall not visit L.J.,” she says in the receiver, and it takes my brain a moment to process what is happening. I look over at Tommy, and he gives me a small welcoming smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Watley. I’ll be by tomorrow.” Liza shoves the phone in her pocket and walks back down the hallway, calling Beau behind her. He plants his bottom on top of my boots, refusing to follow.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, Beau. Benson, will you help me out here?” she asks, and I stare back at her, waiting for an explanation. She rolls her eyes at me. “L.J. is my twin brother. I thought maybe Danni had told you, but from the look on your face I can tell it hasn’t come up.”

  “I had no idea.” I don’t have any other words to offer up. I’m only thankful that Jackson doesn’t have the power to hurt Danni by taking L.J. away.

  “Jackson, L.J. and I are foster kids. Thankfully, we were never separated, but L.J. and I were 18, and no foster family wanted to be responsible for a life sentence of taking care of a quadriplegic . . . however long or short that may be. I became his guardian ad litem, and here we are,” she says, dropping her hands to her side. “Since we were foster kids, the state pays for the majority of L.J.’s care, and the man that hit L.J. pays for the rest. Now, can you please bring Beau back here for me?” she asks, and marches down the hallway. I look over at Tommy, and he slaps my back. I follow Liza, and Beau follows me.

  I open the kennel door Liza is standing by and Beau walks inside, spinning in circles, then settling on a dog bed in the far corner.

  “My brother isn’t in there,” she says, tapping the side of her head. “L.J. left us six years ago. He needs machines in his neck to breathe and feeding tubes in his side for nourishment. He can’t sit up straight so there are rods in his back keeping him upright. He has seizures almost every day, and one day I’ll get a call that he’s gone,” she says, swiping a tear from her eye before it has a chance to roll down her cheek. “And you know what? I’ll be so happy. You know why you had no idea? I visit, just like Danni does, but it was easier for me to let him go. Because that isn’t my brother. It’s just his shell. I like to think my brother’s mind is somewhere happy, where he is walking around and talking. L.J. is already somewhere else, and he would hate this. He would hate seeing Danni not living her life and being happy. At least I am honoring his memory by being happy,” she says, almost angrily.

  Tommy walks in and wraps his arms around Liza, kissing her forehead in a way that suggests they are more than just old friends.

  “She’s going to keep pushing you away, but please, Benson . . . don’t let her. She’s never opened up to anyone the way she has to you. I know she has a shit way of showing it, but she needs you. She just doesn’t realize it yet. Please give her some time.”

  “I’m sorry, Liza. I tried. I really did. I don’t know if I have the kind of time that this is going to take. She doesn’t even want me here,” I say, turning my back and walking down the hallway, out of the hospital, and into my busted-up truck.

  * * * *

  “’Bout time you showed up,” Jess calls to me from the hotel bar. My thumb rests on the elevator button, but I pull back before pushing it, deciding that a drink might do me some good. I walk over and slide onto the bar stool.

  “Whiskey, hold the coke,” I say to the girl behind the bar who is gawking at my blood-soaked shirt.

  “Jesus Christ, man,” Jess says, staring at my face. “How the fuck you expect me to explain that to the sunglasses sponsor?”

  “Is that all you think about?” The bartender slides my drink across the smooth wooden surface, and I throw my head back, dumping the entire contents to the back of my throat, the ice clacking against my teeth.

  “What happened?” I ignore the question, holding a finger up to the bartender signaling for another round. She refills my glass on the bar top, and I watch as the whiskey tumbles over the ice. I run my lips over the rim, then welcome the burn of liquor against my throat again.

  “I need to get out of this town,” I say, and Jess slaps his palms against his thighs.

  “Music to my ears.” He takes a long pull from his beer bottle, not gracious enough to hide his excitement. “They should be finished up with the installation by tomorrow at lunch, then we can hit the road.” I nod my head and finish off my drink with another gulp.

  “Might want to think of an explanation for the truck wrap sponsors while you’re at it,” I say, cutting my eyes sideways at him.

  “Not the truck, man…” He stands, walking to the hotel entrance and scanning the parking lot. From across the room I hear him say, “Son of a bitch.” Normally I would smile, but I don’t have it in me tonight.

  “I hope she was worth it.” He pats me on the back and sits back down beside me.

  “She was,” I say, standing. I throw a twenty on the counter and nod my head at the bartender before making my way across the room to the elevator.

  My room is cold and dark; I don’t bother with the lights. I walk into the bathroom, staring at the bruise forming just under my eye, my nose is swollen and I’m finding it difficult to breathe through my left nostril. I pull out a travel size bottle of Tylenol, and walk over to the mini fridge as I dump two pills into my dirty hands. I wash them down with a shot of whiskey, before standing and stretching my neck from side to side.

  I pull off my shirt and flop belly first onto the bed with my arms up over my head, clenching my eyes shut. Unsurprisingly, the image of Danni’s bare skin underneath me flashes to my mind. Why does she have to be so damn incredible? I close my eyes tighter, willing her face away from my memory and willing the sun to show itself over the horizon. The sooner morning comes, the sooner I can find this town in my dirt trail . . . and the sooner I can start fooling myself into thinking I can forget she ever happened.

  Chapter Twelve

  Danni-Rose

  The smell of wet dirt travels in the wind, and the temperature under the heavy dark clouds causes me to pull the blanket around my shoulders a little tighter. Rain seems fitting for the kind of mood I’m in. I hear Liza’s car coming up the dirt road before I see it, and the thought of finally having Beau back home lessens the pain I’ve been feeling in my chest all morning. I’ve been sitting on the porch swing for hours, just staring into the night sky, watching the shades of morning seep into the black backdrop.

  Liza jumps out of the car and opens the back door for Beau. He takes off at full speed toward the house, but a scent in the breeze causes him to stop short. He drops his snout to the ground, sniffing anxiously around the small splatters of rust-colored dirt and glass. “Beau! Come here, boy,” I call, and he gives up on his conquest to find Benson and bounds up the steps. I hold the door open for him and watch as he trots to his water bowl, lapping half of it up and spilling the rest.

  I look back to Liza, and she’s studying the mess left behind from last night’s crime scene. “Jackson did all this?” she asks, as a quarter-sized rain drop falls from the sky and onto her mint-green top.

  “Some of it was Benson. What did Jackson say to you?” I ask, startled that she already knows what took place here last night. I figured Jackson went off to drink his bruised ego and jaw away.

  “I haven’t spoken to that idiot and I don’t plan to. He has no right to threaten you, Danni, no matter what his reasons are. But for the record, the biggest idiot of all last night was you,” she says, walking past my purse lying on the ground, past me, and into the house.

  I follow her, tossing the blanket over the back of the couch. I turn to Liza and cross my arms defensively. A strand of hair falls in front of my face, and I blow it away, setting my angry stare
back on her face.

  “Oh, you’re upset with me? What are you going to do, make me leave too?” she asks, squinting her eyes at me.

  “Are you kidding me? What did Benson do, run straight to you and tattle?” I stomp off toward the kitchen, slinging my refrigerator door open, knowing there’s not a damn thing in there, but it gives me something to hide my guilty face behind.

  “He was sitting at a red light in front of my hospital with a busted face. I assume he was heading back to his hotel, or out of town. I made him pull over and take a breather. What are you doing, Danni? Why?”

  “You know why,” I say, looking at her wide-eyed.

  “You’re full of shit, Danni. It isn’t for L.J. That lie might have worked if this were a meaningless one-night stand, or some fling. Hell, it worked in college when no one got past that wall of ice you built around yourself. But that’s not what this is. Benson is more, and it scares you to death. Don’t you dare use L.J. as an excuse to protect yourself from getting left again. It happened, Danni! But you know damn well as I do, that the person strapped in the wheelchair one town over is not our L.J. Why would you want it to be?” Her words are like boxing punches, and I’m the well-deserving bag chained to the ceiling.

  “Well, I don’t see you running around town all in love either,” I say, despite knowing she’s right about everything coming out of her mouth.

  “That’s the thing, Danni. I am happy. I’ve been with Tommy for months now. We’ve just been too afraid to tell you because being unhappy is a punishment you think we all deserve, most of all yourself,” she says, walking to the living room and flopping herself down on the couch. She leans back and covers her face with her hands.

  I drag my feet slowly to the living room and sit down beside her. “Poor Jess never stood a chance with you, huh?” I say, laying my head on her shoulder, shaking with a small laugh. “I tried.”