Authors: Teresa Mummert
“Cops!” Someone yelled and the crowd took off in different directions like a herd of antelope running from a wolf.
I took off with Trey on my heels, laughing so hard that I had to stop running after only a few blocks.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, man?” Aiden’s face was a cross between delight and disappointment.
“He had enough,” I replied, rubbing my bloodied knuckles with the bottom of my dark blue T-shirt.
“Yeah. You almost fucking killed him.”
I shrugged as my eyes scanned the street. He deserved more than what he got. Visions of that prick grabbing Rose’s ass in the hallway flashed in my memory. Anger began to creep back as I saw the look of fear on her face. Not the normal reaction you would expect from a girl who was used to getting attention from dumb high school boys. That look…I had seen it before on my mother a million times. It doesn’t matter that he thought this was all about bumping into me in the hall, doesn’t matter that Rose didn’t know my true motive. I knew.
“Which way did Rose go?” I asked.
“What? Who the fuck cares, man?”
I turned back to him, still seething and ready for round two.
“I fucking care.”
“Yeah, I see that. It’s just weird because I’ve never even seen you two talk.” He took a step back and shook his head.
“We don’t.” I scanned the street again, not hearing any sirens. “I just don’t want her going down for my stupid shit.” I had barely said two words to Rose, but I knew she wasn’t like them. The way she looked at me it was just…different. She didn’t see the worthless criminal everyone else saw, even though that was exactly who I was.
I sank down on my couch and listened to Rose sobbing in the bedroom. I fucked up. There was no coming back from what I’d just done. She had broken my heart into a million shards and I had never recovered, and now I was going to return the favor.
I pushed myself up from the couch and made my way to the kitchen in a haze of confusion. I grabbed the bottle of Jack from the freezer and tilted it to my lips, closing my eyes and letting it burn a path of fire down my core.
“Please! I won’t tell anyone,” she cried from the other side of the locked door. I shook my head and tilted the bottle back to my lips. I knew she wouldn’t tell anyone, just like she had never told anyone about us. My memories were mine alone. No one else saw the way she held my hand, the way her eyes sparkled before she pressed her soft lips to mine. It was like none of it had ever happened, and I wasn’t sure that it ever really had, until today when she walked back into my life.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Her voice wavered as she called out to me. I wasn’t there. The guy standing in the kitchen with liquor burning his throat was not the guy she fell in love with. I was an angry, empty shell of my former self.
“Why?” I called back, laughing maniacally as my brain began to succumb to the fog. I was an angry drunk, and I realized too late that this was going to end very badly. “You have always been such a selfish bitch. Why am I doing this to
you
?”
Her cries grew louder and I ran my hand roughly through my hair, trying desperately to calm myself before I did something I regretted.
“Why the fuck are you even here?” I screamed, on the verge of losing it. I tipped the bottle back one last time. Chilled amber liquid ran down my chin and over my chest before it stopped at the waistband of my sweatpants. “Fuck that’s cold,” I said to myself as I screwed the cap back on and placed the bottle back in the freezer.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Rose.” I shook my head and stumbled back into the living room, falling gracelessly onto the old leather couch. A pile of stacked books behind me toppled and slammed into the hardwood floor. Rose stopped crying instantly. I let my head fall back as I stared up at the peeling, cracking paint on the ceiling. Good. A moment of fucking peace. My vision blurred as I tried to rationalize what was happening.
I stopped looking for Rose years ago, forcing myself to believe she was long dead. The odds had been stacked against her since she was a kid. Regardless of who that woman was locked in the spare bedroom,
my
Rose
was
dead. This was no different from any other job I had done in the past. Although I had never had to down half a bottle of Jack to be able to do this before. There were rules, and as long as everyone stuck to them, we parted ways.
My head was completely fucked and she was the reason. She was always the reason. My eyes continued to blur, but now out of sadness and loss.
“This is all your fucking fault,” I mumbled as I leaned forward and rested my head in my hands. “All of this!” I yelled as my emotions began to spill over and I lost any semblance of control.
“I’m sorry!” Her voice was full of tears, like mine. That only infuriated me further.
“Not yet, darlin’, but you will be.” I gritted my teeth and pushed myself off the couch. I didn’t want to deal with the pain; I wanted to fucking drown it — kill off any part of my heart that still beat for her.
Everything went sideways leaning on the white laminate countertop to support myself. I ran my hand over my mouth as I tried to focus. My head was screaming to take Rose and drop her off a few miles away, but my heart and my cock wanted more from her than even I was willing to admit.
I had no control when it came to her, and it landed me in trouble on more than one occasion.
How was it possible for her to have this control over me after all of this time? What about her was so fucking special?
“What’s wrong, babe?” I pressed my forehead against hers as she struggled to calm herself down. My fingers slipped into the belt loops of her jeans, and I pulled her body closer as her eyes drifted closed.
“I don’t want to talk about it. Just make me forget,” she whispered, her minty breath blew over my lips and I sucked in a ragged breath, inhaling her.
“What do you want me to do, Rose? Tell me how to make you better.” I ran my fingers over her cheekbone, causing her chocolate eyes to flutter before they opened, locked on mine.
“Touch me.” Her voice wavered but her eyes did not. I let my fingers slide back into her soft hair, gripping it between my fingers as I pressed my lips against hers. Soft and gentle at first, until her mouth began to move with mine, coaxing something deeper, begging for more. I let my tongue glide over her lower lip, soft and sweet. Her taste was intoxicating. She sighed as her lips fell open and her head lay back against my hand. I held her firmly against my mouth as I kissed away her sadness. She made me forget about the world, my life, my own pain.
“I don’t deserve you.” I pulled back to catch my breath as I slid my nose along her throat, washing myself in her flowery scent. I loved that I could smell her on me hours after I left her. It kept me level, kept me from thinking of only myself.
“Don’t say that,” Rose whispered as her hand came up to glide over my cheek. I smiled, grabbing her hand and placing a kiss on her palm before nipping it with my teeth.
“It’s true,” I replied. She smiled as she tugged her hand back from my mouth, but I squeezed it, not letting her pull away from me. “You make me so fucking crazy.”
Her eyes drifted from mine to my mouth and she took a small step closer, pushing her body against mine. I couldn’t help my physical reaction whenever she was near. I wanted her, every piece of her. I would have waited until the end of time if that was what she needed.
Her free hand slipped between us and she pushed against my jeans, feeling how hard I had become for her. She giggled, loving to tease me. My breath caught in my throat as I struggled not to push her against the brick wall and make love to her. I knew she wasn’t ready. At seventeen I had had my fair share of one-night stands, but Rose had had to deal with the constant mindfuck of a stepfather who couldn’t keep his hands to himself, and that made her hesitant to take our relationship to the next level.
“You think that’s funny?” I smiled as I looked down at her, cheeks flushed.
She smiled back, knowing the power she had over me.
“I do, as a matter of fact.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down as she struggled not to giggle. I pushed against her hand, my smile fading as her warmth penetrated my clothes.
“I’m trying so hard, Rose.” My eyes dipped to her hand between us and back to her. “But you are such a fucking tease.”
She laughed and pulled her hand back, wiggling her fingers in front of me.
“I’m sorry!”
“You’re going to be!” I laughed with her as I lurched forward and grabbed her wrists, pinning them behind her back. She pushed herself up on the tips of her toes and kissed me hard as she moaned.
I slid down until I was sitting on the cold kitchen floor, letting the bottle fall from my hands before cradling my head in my hands.
“I fucking
loved
you!” I yelled, my speech slurred. My voice caught in my throat as I struggled to keep the earth from spinning out of control beneath me.
The next day I walked down the hall toward homeroom when I saw her, her long fiery hair a mess of curls. She smiled as her gaze met mine and I continued toward her, not caring if she was flanked by her friends. I wanted to pull her against me and press my lips against hers. I needed a fix. A few feet from her, Jacob stepped in front of me, facing Rose. Her smile slipped from her face but she recovered quickly.
“Hey, Jake,” she said as I stared at the back of his head wishing I could bore a hole through it. I hated the horrible jealousy that bubbled inside of me whenever someone hit on her.
“You going to the dance on Friday?” he asked, and I could feel my face heat up in anger. Jacob was a football player and came from money.
“I’ll be there.” Her eyes flicked to mine and a hint of a smile tugged at her pouty lips. “But I’m going solo.”
She and her friends stepped around him and walked by me. I turned around, watching her go with a proud smile on my face. She glanced over her shoulder and winked before disappearing down the south hall.
I patted Jacob on the shoulder as I made my way past him.
“That’s gotta hurt.” I laughed and slipped into my history class. For the first time in my life I was looking forward to an after-school function.
That night I dreamed of her, her wild red hair floating behind her as she ran. Her face turned back to mine as she laughed and I struggled to catch her, my feet slipping, sinking in the mud, keeping her just out of arm’s reach. She looked as she did now, with the exception of her hair and it was like chasing after a ghost.
“Wait,” I yelled, suddenly unable to catch my breath, but my lungs refused to expand. She continued farther, disappearing into a line of trees. My thoughts became panicked and my heart raced. I couldn’t see beyond the oaks. No matter how fast I went, my feet seemed to grow heavier and the forest slid back just out of reach.
“I’m going to see the stars!”
“Rose, wait. It’s not safe! You can’t go to California without me! You can’t leave without me.”
“Cole?” she called out playfully but was nowhere to be found. “Cole?” she called again, her voice now full of panic before a terrifying scream ripped from her throat.
I awoke, stiff and sore, my muscles screaming as I stretched, banging my fist against the cabinets. I squeezed my eyes shut and forced them open again in the harsh light as I took in my surroundings. I pushed my body off the kitchen floor with a groan. My head spun and I leaned against the counter, steadying myself before I could stand under my own volition.
My mouth was dry. I spun around, yanking open the fridge and grabbing a carton of orange juice, gulping down the contents. I tossed the empty container in the sink and ran the back of my hand over my bottom lip. The house was quiet. Too quiet. My head pulsed and throbbed and I rubbed my thumb over my temple as I struggled to recall the night before. It had to be some sort of nightmare.
I took a few steps to the edge of the kitchen and looked at the lock that was securely in place on the spare bedroom door.
“Fuck.” I ran my hand over my hair and shook my head. At least she was sleeping and I didn’t need to deal with the reality of having my high school girlfriend locked away like a prisoner in my apartment. I could pretend she was just another mark. A nameless woman who made a very bad decision to talk to a stranger in a bar.
I stumbled my way into my bedroom and shoved my sweatpants off, leaving them in a heap on the floor. I grabbed a fresh pair of faded jeans from my dresser drawer and slid them over my hips. At least they would contain my morning wood a little better than sweats once I got the balls to face her. I sank down onto my old faded beige comforter and rolled my neck from side to side, hoping to elevate some of the stiffness. The heavy fog from last night’s liquor binge hung over me, and I wished I could sleep the rest of the day away instead of feeling like shit. I often drank to numb the feelings, but my heart continued to ache no matter how much I had consumed.
My eyes scanned the top of my old dinged-up oak dresser. There were no pictures, no knickknacks to remind me of better times. The only reminder I had of a better life was locked in the next room. The pair of silver police-issue handcuffs caught my eye and I stood, swiping them off the top of the chest of drawers and sliding them into my sock drawer. If Rose saw them she might get the wrong impression. Of course, there were very few reasons for her to enter this room, none of which I wanted to entertain at the moment.
A muffled vibration caught my attention, and I looked around the room before realizing it was my phone in my dirty jeans on the floor. I grabbed it, thankful the ringer was still turned off so it wouldn’t wake Rose.
“What?” I kept my voice low as I paced the floor, running my free hand through my hair.
“Long time no talk.” Brock laughed but there wasn’t a hint of humor in his words.
“I’m fucking busy. I can’t just drop everything.”
“Whoa, Bishop. I think you need to take a second to remember who you are talking to.”
I blew out a heavy breath as I struggled not to flip out on this douchebag.
“When and where?” I asked as I leaned against my bedroom door frame, my eyes glued to the lock that dangled from the spare-bedroom door.
“I’m sensitive to your situation so I’ll let you pick the time. How’s The Pink sound?”
I rolled my eyes as I thought about the shithole strip club two towns away.
“I’ll call.” I hung up and tossed my phone onto the bed. “Fuck!” My frustration was driving me to the fucking edge.
“Cole?” A tiny voice called from the other side of my bedroom wall. I let my eyes close as I silently cursed myself for making so much noise. “Please let me out of here.” She sounded so young, so fragile, and that overwhelming desire to protect her crept back inside of me.
“I’m coming, darlin’.” I shook my head and grabbed the keys, hesitating as I slid it into the lock. I pressed my forehead against the cool wood and swallowed any feelings I had for this girl. This needed to go by the rules, and soon she could run right back out my life and I would go back to focusing on what I needed to do. I twisted the key and cleared my throat as I pushed the door open. Rose sat on the old mattress, her legs curled beneath her.
“I can’t stand being locked in here, Cole. I promise I will do whatever you say if you just let me out of here.” Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over and expose how scared she was. She kept her chin raised defiantly.
“Colt. No one calls me Cole anymore, Rose.” I shook my head and turned to leave the room, the door still wide open. Within seconds I could hear Rose’s bare feet padding across the wood floor.
“I haven’t been called Rose in years,” she said quietly.
I hadn’t even
thought
about Rose in nearly four years. I blocked her from my mind the moment I nearly killed a man for her and she wasn’t even there.
“It’s the best way to unwind after a long day,” Brock said with a laugh. Something about his smile made my skin crawl. He looked like your average clean-cut guy, with his freshly shaved face and a haircut like a fucking third grader.
“Strippers are a waste of money,” I replied, completely disinterested in spending any more time with this asshole than I had to. I took a long drag from my cigarette as my eyes scanned the deserted land behind the club.
“You know they allow smoking inside.”
I blew out a cloud of smoke toward his face and he waved his hand, coughing like a bitch.
“I don’t like smoking indoors. Feels…unnatural.” I took another drag, clicking my ashes into the air and watching them fall to the ground. The smoking wasn’t the problem. In fact, I had been trying to quit for three weeks now. I just didn’t want shit to do with some dumb asshole’s bachelor party.
“Let go of me!” a female called from the far corner of the vacant lot. I looked past Brock to see what the problem was. He put his hand on my chest and grinned.
“Probably didn’t pay her enough.” He laughed and I had to suppress the urge to beat his fucking face in. God I hated this guy.
“Please!” the voice called again and this time it was more than obvious it wasn’t some simple domestic dispute. I took off across the lot, walking as fast as I could. Brock had to damn near jog to keep up with me.
“This isn’t our problem, Bishop.”
I gave him a sideways glance, warning him that I was not in the fucking mood. Just then I saw her and my body froze. Bright fire-red hair hanging in waves down to the center of her back.
“Rose?” I said aloud to myself.
“She ain’t no Rose. Firecracker maybe,” Brock replied, and I ignored him. I was now focused on the man facing her. He was bald and stood about a foot taller than she. He was above average in build, and he was dangerously close to getting his ass kicked.
“Prior military?”
Brock narrowed his gaze then nodded in agreement.
“I think I’ve seen her dance here before. That ass looks familiar. I’d have to put my face in it to be sure.” He chuckled and I turned to glare at him. “It was a joke.”
The woman squealed as the man grabbed her by her arms and lifted her from the ground, dropping her on her side.
I flicked my cigarette and took off, seeing red. Murderous red that could only come from memories of Rose. She brought out the best and absolute worst in me.
“Who the fuck are you?” the guy asked, his arms open like he was looking for trouble. Lucky for him, trouble had just arrived. I swung, hitting him with a wide right hook and he stumbled backward a few steps before widening his stance and catching his balance.
“I’ll fucking kill you, you son of a bitch,” the guy yelled as he cupped his hand under his mouth to catch the blood.
“If it’s you or me, I’d make yourself right with God, motherfucker.” I landed a jab square on his nose and it popped, bones crumbling under my knuckles.
“That’s enough!” Brock yelled, and I shook my head, looking this woman beater in the eyes, a twisted smile on my lips. “Jesus Christ, Bishop! That’s enough!” The asshole’s feet gave way and I followed him to the ground, kneeling over him as I repeatedly landed blow after blow to his face. His head snapped back, cracking off the asphalt that peeked out from below the weeds.
After about a dozen hits my hand was numb and the man was no longer responding. I could only tell he was still alive from the blood that bubbled from his mouth as he struggled to take a labored breath.
“You really want to go down for murder over some fucking junkie hooker? Do you have any idea what they do to cops in prison?”
I pushed to my feet, staring down at the bloodied mess I had created.
“I’m not a hooker, I’m a dancer.”
I took a step back, my jaw clenched as I struggled to keep myself from killing this asshole.
“Shut the fuck up, Brock,” my voice was low, animalistic.
“Thank you,” a small voice called from behind me. I closed my eyes, hoping that I was finally going to come face-to-face with the woman who had changed my entire world. I turned to face her and my heart sank into the pit of my stomach. Sitting on the ground hugging her knees was a terrified woman with long dirty-blonde hair. I raised my eyes to Brock who glanced to his right. On the ground a few feet away was the fire-red wig. I looked to the sky, cursing myself for being such a fucking idiot. As the rage gave way to reality, I could now feel the blood pulsing through my hand as my knuckles throbbed and the slight breeze over the broken flesh sent sharp stabs of pain up my wrist.
“Is he dead?” Brock yelled and I had to fight the urge to punch him in the mouth just to shut him up.
“Doesn’t fucking matter.” I stepped closer and the woman cowered, her hair hanging in her face.
I sank down on my knees, reaching slowly toward her face and brushed her hair to the side, tucking it behind her ear. Big green eyes met mine, but the right eye was bruised with a purpling ring that extended into her eyebrow. I ran the pad of my finger over it and she winced, pulling back from my touch.
“It’s swollen. That should go down in a few days. The bruise isn’t anything you can’t hide with a little makeup.” I held out my hand to her, palm up. She glanced at the blood that had run into my fist while I was beating that prick. “It’s okay. It’ll wash off, darlin’.”
She slipped her shaking fingers in mine, and I squeezed her hand, pain shooting through me as the wounds pulled open, but I didn’t loosen my grip. I stood, pulling her up to her feet.
“We need to get the fuck out of here, Bishop. I am not going down for a murder.”
“Go,” I called out to him, keeping my eyes on the woman.
“Go?”
“Go back inside and enjoy your evening. Tell the guys I got a call from work and I had to go.” I turned to look at him to make sure he understood everything I was saying.
“What about…”
“I’ll take care of it. Go. They are probably ready to send out a fucking search party.”
I watched Brock shake his head before retreating to the front of the club to rejoin the party.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Amber, like the color,” she replied and I glanced over at the wig that lay in the dirt. “That’s why I wear the red wig.”
“So is that your real name or the stage name?”
“It’s my real name. I’m not a dancer. Not really. I mean…you do what you have to do sometimes.”
I gently grabbed ahold of her hair, which hung over her shoulder.
“I like this better. It suits you.”
She smiled, revealing two deep dimples, and I knew that regardless of why I’d helped her, I was glad I had.
“I should probably go.” Her gaze dropped to her feet and I used my good hand to tilt her chin up so she would look at me again.
“You and I have a pretty big secret in common now.” I glanced at the asshole who lay in the grass a few feet away. Her eyes went wide.
“I won’t say anything, I swear.” She began shaking her head back and forth and taking a step back from me.
“I know you won’t because he isn’t going to die.”
“He isn’t?”
We both looked at the man as I grabbed a cigarette from my pocket and stuck it between my lips.
“Unfortunately.” I pulled a lighter from my front pocket and held it to my face as I inhaled. “But I just got a very important job and I can’t have something like this landing on my doorstep.”
She nodded, looking relieved that I hadn’t made her an accomplice to murder. I took another drag before I let my eyes drift back to her. She was still fixated on her bloody attacker. She was wearing what used to be a white T-shirt and tiny black shorts. I would have thought she was coming from the gym had I not found her behind the club.
“You on your way home?”
“I was,” she said with a sigh, “but now my ride might have trouble driving.”
I laughed and flicked my ashes between us.
“Well, Amber like the color, I can give you a ride if you like.” I wasn’t talking about my car.
“Yeah, take me home.” Her eyes narrowed and my dick went rock hard.
“Right this way, darlin’.” I grabbed the wig from the ground and guided her to my car.
Rose was my lifelong addiction and Amber had become my methadone. She filled that desperate need to connect to my past no matter how much I tried to deny it. I had worked hard to become a good person but that one moment in time had pulled me back.
“It kills me the way you look at me now.”
“Get used to it, sweetheart.” This bitch was determined to fuck with my head. I walked into the kitchen, ignoring her as I grabbed a container of yogurt from the bottom of my fridge and a spoon from the drawer. I carried it back to her and held it out for her to take. “Eat. You can do it out here or in there.” I motioned toward the spare bedroom. “Make it fast. I have shit I’ve got to deal with.” Brock couldn’t have called at a worse time. The secrets would pile up around me quickly.