Hidden Barriers (2 page)

“Yeah, I think it’s just because I’m here, and you know how much I hate hospitals,” I answer, even though I can’t tell her that my flashbacks have become more frequent since I found out about
his
recent parole.

All my roommates know about my past. After I moved into the C-Naughtie house two years ago, I had one night where my nightmare had me screaming bloody murder, and the girls had to help calm me down. A few shots of Jack Daniels and I spilled all my dark secrets. The one night
he
sent me to the hospital with barely a pulse and an even longer list of broken bones. He shattered my life in a matter of minutes to where I have now become someone who is unable to trust, and even worse, someone who is afraid to love again.

Forcing myself to the present, I convince Kim that I’m fine and ready to get the hell out of here. As we’re walking toward the exit, I realize I left my messenger bag in the ER room. “Shit, I forgot my bag in the exam room. I’ll be right back.”

Kim sighs and looks at her phone before turning back to me. “Hurry your ass up. We’ve missed half of the after party because of your daredevil move tonight.”

“I’ll be five minutes. Keep your panties on.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

I walk back to the room I was admitted to for my separated shoulder and jammed finger. I laugh to myself when I think about what happened earlier. The doctors didn’t believe me when I told them how I really got my injuries. Apparently, being five-feet-four and skinny as a rail doesn’t allow people to believe I have the ability to bout with the rest of them.
That’s right, I said ‘bout’.
Once I handed them my trading card as proof, I silenced them immediately.
Yeah, assholes.
I’m a mother fuckin’ roller derby girl, and I’ll kick your ass any day of the week.

What’s even better is when people ask me how I support myself on that salary, and I tell them I do it for free. That’s when I really throw them for a loop and tell them I’m the manager of a wine bar, and roller derby is just something I do for fun. It’s an added bonus that I get to release pent-up anger against other girls and get away with it.

The looks I get never cease to amaze me. Actually, we derby girls are the same. Derby is our passion. We practice some weekend mornings and weekday evenings. The actual season only consists of five bouts. “Bout” is derby slang for race.

All of us have careers outside of roller derby. Kim is a dispatcher for a police department. Rose is a college English professor, and Lucy is a cosmetologist. She comes in handy when we need our bruises and black eyes covered. Through thick and thin, we are family, injuries and all.

Making my way quickly down the hall after grabbing my bag, I check my phone to see who won tonight’s bout that I had to leave. Not paying attention to where I am walking, I slam right into a hard wall of muscle. Pain shoots up my already bad arm, and I wince as my bag drops to the floor. His hands come up and grab my elbow, and my eyes shoot up to his.
Him again.

“Hey,” he says as he picks up my bag from the floor, wrapping it over my shoulder again. “We really have to stop meeting like this.”

I finally take in all of him. It’s hard not to, considering how close we are. How did I miss that he was in uniform before? Clearly, I have an aching to be arrested or handcuffed. Either way, I wouldn’t have minded at all. This officer is seriously hot. It’s too bad I’m not in the market for picking up men anymore. I don’t mean I’m into picking up women either. After my last relationship, I vowed I’d never be that victim again. Someday I may feel differently, but the memories are still too vivid in my mind. Maybe officers don’t beat the shit out of their girlfriends. I guess I’ll never know.

He extends his hand out to me. “Josh Page, and you are?”

“Just leaving. Adios!” I say as I sway past him, waving my hand in the air without turning around.

“Hey! What’s a C-Naughtie?” I hear him ask from behind me, stopping me from taking another step.

Turning around to face him again, I place my hand on my hip. “You’ve never heard of us? Seriously?”

“Obviously not. That’s why I’m curious. It’s snowing like crazy outside, and you’re wearing that outfit, so I had to ask.”

Reaching into my bag, I pull out my trading card and derby flyer as I walk over to him. I hand them to him before saying, “You wanna know what a C-Naughtie is? You’re gonna have to come see for yourself. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though.” I wink before turning to head back to Kim, who’s hopefully still waiting for me.

“See you later, Sweet Cheeks,” he says, just loud enough for me to hear.

Still walking away from him, never looking back, I reply, “Catch you later, Officer Page.”

It’s been almost a week since that night at the hospital. Fate had to have played a role in my life. I’m lucky to have been the one ordered to work during the snowstorm. If I hadn’t been there when Sue and Emily were in the car accident, I’m not sure Jeremy would have ever lived with the guilt. Emily had just been awarded a trip to the Olympic games as the top US figure skater at the same time my brother received a call saying he had been called up to the NHL.

My little brother has always dreamed of becoming a professional hockey player. I don’t fault him for taking this opportunity and running with it, but as I’m sitting in his apartment helping his soul mate get through the toughest point in her life, I have to wonder if he made the right decision.

Often I have told him when your true love is right in front of you not to let her go like I did. It’s my biggest regret, ever. I don’t even want to imagine the pain he might go through if he loses Emily again after this. She sits in the guest bedroom, listening to her music with earbuds in and reading her e-reader. Half the time I’m here, I end up trying to console her during a crying fit over everything she has lost so fast. First, her figure skating career is gone, and now, my brother.

A few minutes later, my sister, Courtney, comes through the door to relieve me from my
shift
. I really hate calling it that, but Emily hasn’t been her normal joyful self since Jeremy left, and taking turns helping her recover from her injuries as well as her depression, is wearing on all of us.

Glancing down the hall before Courtney comes over to sit next to me, I grab the remote and turn off the television.

“How’s she doing today?” Courtney asks with concern etched on her face.

“I’m not sure. She’s been in there since I got here, but she hasn’t broken down yet. I suppose that’s some progress, but she really needs to talk to a professional. Better yet, Jeremy needs to man up and fix things with her and talk to her himself.”

A sound from down the hall silences any more talk about Jeremy. Motioning to Courtney that I’ve got it, I walk down the hall and check on Emily. Knocking on the partially opened door before I head into the room, I ask, “Everything okay, Em?” As I move into the room, I see

Jeremy’s Bernese Mountain dog, Aspen, lying on the bed with her as she strokes his head. She sniffles back tears and wipes her nose on the sleeve of one of Jeremy’s hoodies she’s been wearing since she returned home from the hospital.

Shit.

“He’s not coming back, is he? Not that I blame him. I’m the one who pushed him away. I’m the one who told him we needed this time apart. Everything is my fault, Josh.”

“Hey, nothing is anyone’s fault,” I say, trying to console her dark thoughts. Those thoughts have continued to get darker as the days continue without Jeremy. I’ve seen what those thoughts have done to others. In my line of work, it comes with the territory, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let my brother’s girlfriend become another statistic. “Jeremy will call you when he has time. He loves you, Em. He’ll be back the minute he can. Just try to stay positive.” Leaning down to give her a kiss on the head as I would my own sister, I ruffle her hair, trying to lighten her mood. “Do you need anything before I head out? Courtney’s here, but she’s not nearly as fun as me, so just say the word, and I’ll be your resident comedian for the night.” I softly punch her good arm.

A slight giggle escapes her mouth before she clears her throat. “Nah, you can go. I’ll be okay.” She raises her fingers to play with her necklace. As I walk back toward the door, I hear her speak up behind me. “Josh, thanks for everything.”

“Anytime, Emily. If you need anything, just call me.”

As I make my way back to the living room, I grab my black pea coat, winter beanie, and keys from the kitchen table before walking over to Courtney who’s texting on her phone. Most likely Sue. Another person I’m trying not to think about these days. Sliding my arms into the sleeves, I watch Courtney place her phone onto the coffee table and look up at me. “Everything okay down there? Does she need anything?”

“Yeah, she fuckin’ needs Jeremy. So, your one task tonight is to get him on the phone and talk some sense into him. I’d do it, but I’m headed home to try to get some sleep before I go to work.”

As I make sure I have everything before heading toward the door, I hear Courtney sniffle behind me. Seriously, I can only take so much right now. “Court? Are you all right?”

“She’s getting worse, Josh.”

Her words send daggers through me because I know they’re true. Stepping over to her and resting my hands on her shoulders, I do my best to convince her otherwise. “She’ll get better. You just have to be tough around her. Don’t let her see how scared you are. She’ll pull through.”

I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince more, her or me. After she gives me a slight nod that she can handle this, I head out toward my car. Once I start my Jeep Wrangler, I grab my cell phone while I wait for the car to warm up a little. I begin typing out a quick text to Jeremy.

You better fix this with Emily. Don’t make the same mistake I did.

It totally sucks that I’m rolling around this track, unable to actually practice. The doctors say it will be another week or so before I’m able to use my shoulder again. I’m just glad it wasn’t any worse. My time at the track allows me to release the stress and anger I can’t during regular working hours. Something tells me pushing and shouting at the customers at Vines wouldn’t play out very well.

Managing the wine and beer bar on some evenings allows me to calm down and relax, which is nice, considering I’m usually about ready to burst out of my skin most days. Some days I’m good; other days I’m tormented and constantly in panic mode. There is always a sense that
he
will be standing outside waiting for me, looking for revenge. I know it’s stupid; he’s been in jail for three years. Well, it was stupid until about three weeks ago when I found out his parole hearing is set for next month.