by Colbie Kay
Her brow furrows in confusion, and her eyes search my facial features until they lock with my wide shocked gaze. The moment she realizes who I am, her eyes grow the size of saucers. “Jenson?” Her mouth drops open, gaping at me.
“Oh, fuckin’ Christ!” Tears spring to my eyes, and I begin to pace because I don’t know what the hell to do. Is this real? Was the weed laced with some shit making me fuckin’ hallucinating? Maybe it knocked my ass out, and I’m dreaming.
I slowly and hesitantly step to the side of the bed as she pushes herself up. Our gazes remain locked together. “We all thought you were dead.” Leaning down, I pull her into my arms, hugging her as tightly as I can, but at the same time, trying to be as gentle as I can due to her injuries. She clings to me as she wales loudly, and we hold onto each other in desperation. My eyes slide shut as I pray this isn’t some fucked up nightmare.
After years of no leads, the investigation going nowhere, and nothing else to go on, we all just assumed she was gone forever. We expected to one day hear that they had found her body. Never in a million years did I think she would show up here of all fuckin’ places. Where has she been all this time? How did she show up here? What happened to her that night and over the years? I have so many questions I want to ask, but I don’t want to push her right now. Like Sierra said, Rowan requires rest.
Pulling back with tears cascading down her thin cheeks, she keeps a tight hold on my forearms as she tells me, “I need to find my family.” Her tone is desperate, her eyes pleading.
I haven’t been back to her house since the night she went missing, but I won’t hesitate to help her and take her home. “I’ll take you first thing in the morning, I promise, but you have to regain some of your strength. I’ll get you some food, and then you need to rest.”
Releasing each other, I stand from the bed. “I can’t fuckin’ believe you’re here.”
“I can’t believe I found you. Out of all the places I could have stumbled upon, it was here with you.” She smiles the same beautiful smile that I remember.
My hand stays on the doorknob as I stare at her in disbelief, she’s really here. “I don’t want to leave in case you’re not here when I come back.” I lightly laugh at myself, but I’m in shock. I’m still fuckin’ terrified this is some kind of twisted dream.
“I don’t want you to leave. Can I eat later? The nice truck driver that dropped me off outside of town bought me some food, so I’m not really hungry anyway. Will you lie down with me?” Her eyes plead with me and she puckers out her lip like she used to do when we were kids. She knew she could get me to do whatever she wanted if she pouted.
“You rode with a nice truck driver,” I grumble and nod. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I calm myself. I don’t fuckin’ like the thought of her putting herself in a dangerous situation like that, but I don’t know her story. That protective instinct I always had over her is coming to the surface. “You should really eat.” I try to hold onto my reason, but it’s slipping away. When I open my eyes, she’s scooting over.
Hesitantly, I step to my bed and carefully lie down beside her. “Where were you?”
Her gaze drops to her torn dress, and her fingers play with the material. She quietly says, “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
I stay silent as she lies her head on my chest and falls asleep. A million more questions swirl in my head.
Rowan’s disappearance devastated us all; and as close as Tyler and I were, it was never the same between us. I blamed him as much as I blamed myself. He struggled, but he went on living his life and soaking in all the sympathy he could, which in turn made me grow to hate him. We ultimately drifted apart. It hit me hard, so fuckin’ hard. I never got over her kidnapping, but I never got over her either. I got in with the wrong crowd of kids who introduced me to Mary Jane, and that started my love affair with clouding my mind. I experimented with other shit anything to keep the pain away. Anything to make me try and forget the last time I saw her. All the while, Tyler went on, doing the best he could to get his parents to still notice him. Their parents live in the same house they always did. Tyler moved away, and last I heard, he was married with a couple kids of his own.
Wrapping my arms around her, my eyes begin to grow heavy. “I promise to always protect you. I just wish I could have protected you that night.” My last word slurs as I fall asleep.
“NO. PLEASE, NO!”
I wake to Rowan’s screams and the thrashing of her body. “Rowan?” I speak her name quietly, but it doesn’t wake her from the nightmare.
“No!” Her arms and legs flail as she continues to try and escape whatever demon she’s fighting.
Gripping her arms tightly, I yell louder, “Rowan, wake up!” Finally, her eyes pop open. “You’re safe.”
“Jenson?” She scrambles up my body and into my lap, clinging to me as if her life depended on it. “I was back there. I don’t want to go back. I never want to go back,” She cries against my bare chest.
“You’re safe,” I repeat, my tone soothing and comforting as my hand runs up and down the soaked back of her dress.
“I’m really home.” She sobs uncontrollably.
“You’re home,” I agree, sighing deeply.
I continue to hold her until her breathing evens out, and I make a silent promise to kill whoever hurt her.
A beam of light shines over my closed eyes and my body’s hot. Why am I so hot? I can feel the beads of sweat accumulating on my forehead and rolling down my back. I’ve never been this hot waking up in the morning. My eyes flutter open, and at first, I don’t realize where I am, but when I try to move, something is holding me in place. I almost panic until I see the tattooed arm lying on my waist, but lifting it up, I roll over, and Jenson’s sleeping beside me. My lips lift as I take in not only the fact that I am truly free, but that I’m here with him.
He is gorgeous. I’d venture to say beautiful, even more than I remembered. He was always clean cut in high school, a basketball star and co-captain alongside my brother. His whiskey-colored eyes would shine when he smiled his perfect white smile, and his frame was lean from staying in shape for sports. His appearance is drastically different now, tattooed and massive from all his muscles, a beard, and long dark hair. In addition, his eyes have a coldness to them, and he is rough now. Back then, he would have been the boy every parent wished their daughter would date. Now, I bet he’s the man parents warn their daughters to stay away from. However, he seems like the man every woman fantasizes about.
I believe fate intervened bringing me here to this place, having me fall into Jenson’s arms. What other explanation could there be? Was it a coincidence? Maybe, but I don’t think so. Jenson and I have a long history, aside from me being gone for ten years. I’ve known him my whole life and have loved him for most of it. Thoughts of him and my family were what kept me going, kept my determination strong, and gave me courage. My heart pounds a little harder as I lie here staring at him. I don’t think I ever got over the boy I loved even when he hurt me as bad as he did.
His eyes slowly open. “You’re here.” He smiles, gazing at me. “It wasn’t a dream,” He states happily.
My lips lift into my own grin. “I’m here.”
After my response, his smile drops as his eyes search mine, and after a moment, my own grin fades away. Neither of us speaks nor moves a muscle until suddenly, he clears his throat and sits up in the bed. “I’m gonna get you some breakfast and clothes. You can shower in the bathroom down the hall, but be careful of your stitches.” His tone hardens, becoming more authoritative.
He stands from the bed and stretches. I can’t take my eyes off the Satan’s Sinners MC tattoo covering most of his back, or the way his muscles flex. “Okay.” I try to sound nonchalant when really, every part of my body is heating with an unknown desire for him. I practically chastise myself because I escaped from a terrible place. I should be working to recover from that, but instead, I am drowning in a desire for a man I haven�
��t seen in ten years. I don’t know who he is today. Maybe, I’m still stuck on the boy he used to be and the feelings I had for him then. Or maybe, I’m simply crazy and am still that pathetic girl I was before. Either way, I am ready to see my family, ready to begin my life, and ready to try to move forward after the nightmare I’ve lived through.
He puts his black shirt on and leaves the room without a second glance only to return minutes later.
I’m sitting up, leaning against his headboard as he holds a heaping plate of food out for me to take. It’s loaded with scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon. Foods I used to love, but haven’t gotten to enjoy in a very long time. They fed us where we were held, but it was never freshly cooked nor homemade. Mostly, they were dinners that you pop in the microwave. I miss my mom’s cooking.
Taking the plate of food and fork from him, I dig in. I try to hold back my sounds of delight at the taste. It’s delicious.
He places down a pair of jeans and a T-shirt at the end of the bed. “You can wear those and everything you need is in the bathroom already. Make sure to lock the door so no one comes in.” He doesn’t make eye contact as he instructs me, and I begin to wonder if I did something wrong.
Nodding, I take another bite of my food and close my eyes as he walks back out the door. Why is he being so distant and cold now? I shake my head and continue eating. Once my belly is full, I take the clothes and find the bathroom easily enough.
I lock the door like he directed and begin to remove my dress, only then realizing how sore I truly am. It hurts to lift my arms, but I push through the pain, and when I’m completely naked, I work up enough courage to face the mirror.
Tears pool in my eyes as I take in the sight of myself. My fingers lightly brush against my cheek under my stitches and across my forehead. I touch my protruding collar bones. I move to the black circles under my eyes and my black strands of hair. Spinning around, I see my shoulder bones and backbone. I’m skinny. Too skinny. I barely recognize the woman staring back at me.
Gently, I wipe away the tears trickling down my cheeks and step over to the shower. Turning the hot water on, I wait for it to heat up before walking into the stream of cascading water. Steam rises around me as I soak in the pleasure from being able to take a hot shower alone. The blessed silence of no one barking orders, no eyes ogling me, and no hands I don’t want touching me. This is heaven.
As careful as I can be, I begin to soap up my body and hair, washing and rinsing over and over until the water has long gone cold. Finally, I twist the knob, and the waterfall stops. I feel clean, I feel refreshed, and I feel better than I have in a long time. I might even say that’s the best shower I’ve ever had. Patting my flesh with the clean towel, I dry off the best I can before sliding on the pair of jeans and T-shirt.
Looking in the mirror once again, I run my fingers through my long hair, trying to detangle it. Hopefully, my mom still has my old hairbrush. I glance down at the clothes I’m wearing and beam with happiness, running my hands over the material. It’s been a long time since I’ve worn anything like this. Honestly, I feel like a brand new woman. I almost feel normal, or as normal as I can be.
I clean up my mess in the bathroom and throw my dress in the trash. I never want to see that thing again.
Stepping out of the bathroom, still barefoot, I quietly stroll the rest of the way down the hall until I come to an open space that has tables and chairs, a bar, pool tables, and people gathered around talking amongst themselves. I move toward Jenson, who is sitting at one of the barstools.
His gaze darts in my direction. “You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I smile, but suddenly the thought of seeing my family again brings on a burst of anxiety. Butterflies swarm in my belly, and my pulse pounds harder, matching my increased heart rate.
He downs the amber liquid, filling in the glass in front of him before he stands, and I follow him outside. It’s still freezing, and snow is falling from the sky. My feet burn as they touch the cold cement. Wrapping my arms around myself, continue to walk behind him until we stop at black and chrome car. He holds the passenger side door open for me, and I slide into the seat.
JENSON PULLS ALONGSIDE THE CURB, and I peer out the window at the house I remember well. The light brown siding is the same with the darker shade shutters, and bushes are planted on either side of the porch. My childhood home, simply seeing the house brings back all of the good memories I have.
“You ready?”
My gaze travels to his hazel eyes, and my smile brightens. “Yes.” I conceal my nervousness because they’ll be happy, right? Why am I even questioning this? Of course, they’ll be happy.
Both of us step out of the car, and we meet on the sidewalk. He takes my hand in his, giving me support and comfort. With each step we take toward the front door, my body feels heavier and heavier, filled with that nervousness I was trying to contain and an unknown fear. I don’t know why I feel like this because it’s my family, but I’ve been gone for so long I don’t know what to expect or what I expect of them. Jenson lifts his hand and knocks hard.
The door opens as it is yanked open with more force than I think is necessary. And then I see him. My dad is standing there with his brows furrowed and his eyes searching our features. Does he not recognize either of us? Jenson has changed a lot since the last time I saw him, but it didn’t take me long to recognize him. Shouldn’t they know who he is since him and my brother, Tyler, are best friends?
As for me, I think I’m pretty much the same as I was except thinner, older. Maybe it’s my wounds or the stitches that make me unrecognizable to him. Maybe I’m too ugly, and that prevents him from seeing his own daughter. I always did take care of myself: perfect hair, perfect makeup, and perfect clothes. Nothing about the last ten years were perfect, not my tattered dress, not being able to brush my hair, not showering on a regular basis. Everything was done on a schedule that we all followed, and I was afforded the privilege typically no more than once a week.
My father, though, has aged in the ten years I’ve been gone. His hair has strands of gray, his features have more wrinkles, but overall, he still looks the same. “Daddy,” I whimper, tears pooling in my eyes.
He stares at me, his body unmoving. “Rowan?” His head begins to shake furiously. “My daughter is dead.” His tone is venomous as if he thinks I am lying to him. My heart takes a plunge from the rejection and hurt.
My threatening tears begin to fall down my cheeks. “I’m not dead. It’s me, Daddy.”
He begins to shut the door, but Jenson stops it with his hand. “It’s Rowan, Dan.”
“Jenson?” My father turns his attention to him. “How?” My father’s tearful gaze travels between us. “You show up after all these years and suddenly have this...this...woman pretending to be my long lost daughter?” My father’s face tightens with anguish. “That’s cruel, even for you, Jenson.”
What is he talking about? Jenson showing up and being cruel? My parents always loved Jenson, always treated him as if he was another son.
“Look at her eyes,” Jenson demands harshly, ignoring everything else my father said to him.
My father’s bottom lip trembles as he studies me. Several seconds pass before he hesitantly asks, “Rowan, is it really you?” He still appears skeptical, but he studies me further.
“Yes, Daddy.” I cry harder and nod. He pulls me into his arms as we both break down.
“Dan, who’s at the door?” I recognize my mom’s delicate voice. Just hearing her sends another wave of tears.
“Dad?” Tyler asks immediately after. They both come around the corner and stop in their tracks when they see us hugging.
“Rowan?” Mom blurts out in disbelief, covering her mouth with her hand as her own tears trickle down her cheeks. “What? How?” She can barely form words.
“Mom, Tyler,” I say their names as my father lets me go, and I rush to my mom, hugging her tightly. Her arms slowly wrap around me as if she’s afraid to touch m
e.
Releasing my mom, I move over to Tyler. “It’s so good to see you.” I throw my arms around him as his frame stiffens with tension, and he doesn’t return my hug. I pull back to stare up at him. “What’s wrong?”
He gently pushes me away from him. “Oh, I don’t know maybe the fact you just showed up on the doorstep after ten years. You look like Rowan, but how do we know it’s really you? Are we simply supposed to take your word for it?”
I sigh heavily, trying to accept his hesitation. “I understand your surprise, but I am your sister.”
“Merry Christmas,” Jenson announces from the doorway.
“It’s Christmas?” I question, only then noticing all of the decorations inside the house. I used to love Christmas; it was my favorite holiday. I loved decorating the tree with Tyler, putting up decorations with mom, and singing Christmas carols as we drank hot chocolate on Christmas Eve night.
“Come inside.” My dad ushers Jenson into the house with the rest of us and shuts the door. As we walk into the living room, I notice everything is exactly as I remember, but an unfamiliar feeling is taking root inside me. I can’t explain it exactly or pinpoint why I’m having this feeling, but I’m attempting to ignore it.
A woman and two small children sit on the floor playing with a train. Tyler introduces me, “Rowan, this is my wife, Christina, and our two boys, Gavin and Timothy.”
Christina comes over and hugs me. “Rowan!” She exclaims as if she knows who I am.
I awkwardly hug her back, unsure of what to say, so I blurt the first thing that comes to mind, “I realize this is a shock for everyone.” I glance down at the two boys who are gawking at me.
“We’re just happy to have you home. It’s a Christmas miracle,” She gushes in excitement.