“I think you possibly understated that,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
Nicole makes a sound close to a snort, agreeing with me. It’s probably more of an I told you so, because she did. She absolutely did and it is the reason I’m here now and not half way to Georgia, or hell anywhere else. Here is being in Jacob’s bed, with my heart ripped out while he tosses out facts about my virginity.
I’m mad at myself because I’m still in his bed. I didn’t throw things at him, throw him out or anything! Instead I cried, while he left like hell’s fire was nipping at his heels. Worse, I’m still missing him. When did I become such a doormat?
“You’re not a doormat.”
Shit, I didn’t realize I said that out loud.
“I am, but I deserve to be. I’m the reason Jacob killed that man. I’m the reason he was put in jail. I’m the reason he was there and was…attacked.”
My voice breaks on the last note. I can’t bring myself to say raped. It keeps screaming in my brain, but I can’t give voice to it.
“Carrie…”
“It’s true, Nicole,” I say, swallowing the last of my drink and reaching over to put it on the table. “It’s my fault, all of it.”
“Bullshit! Jacob’s a grown ass man. He did what he did and you can’t take the guilt of that.”
“Guilt. God, there’s so much guilt. Jacob has so much he can’t breathe. I have so much it hurts to breathe. How can that ever work out Nicole? I think you’re wrong. I’m not the person to save Jacob. I’m too clueless to help him.”
Nicole is silent. She stops brushing my hair and instead I can feel her braiding it. It feels nice, relaxing even. I close my eyes, wishing I could still the thoughts in my brain.
“I wasn’t wrong. Dancer’s already let you in more than he has anyone else—so I wasn’t wrong.”
“But?” I ask, because I can hear a but.
“You have to decide if you’re strong enough to see this through, because I’m not going to lie, I think this might be small compared to some of the hits you may take.”
Am I strong enough?
“Was it worth it for you?” I ask. She’s finished with my hair and we’re both quiet, like we’re afraid to move.
“It is different for me. I love the person involved, but I’m not in love with them. The attacks…they aren’t personal so they don’t cut as deep as the ones you’re taking, Carrie.”
“Even when it’s good, there are still…things that keep it from being what it should be, Nicole,” I confess, like it’s a dirty little secret. It hurts that I couldn’t hold Jacob while we made love. It cuts that I couldn’t hold him close and love him the way I have dreamed of for years.
“I know, baby,” She says, only she doesn’t—not really.
“I’m so tired,” I say for no reason in particular, just that I am. I am bone-deep tired. I think if I managed to shut my brain down and go to sleep, I’d sleep for days, weeks even.
“There’s something else I know,” Nicole says getting off the bed and picking up the towel I had used.
“What’s that?” I ask not really caring. I lay back down against the pillow now that Nicole has left the bed.
“If the roles were reversed and it was me and Dragon? I’d fight so fucking hard to pull him out of the hell he was in. I’d fight with everything I had and I wouldn’t give up no matter what. I’d fight with my last dying breath, Carrie.”
“Dragon loves you,” I answer. If Jacob loved me, I’d never waiver. I don’t have the security of that, I don’t think I ever will and that’s where the problem lies.
“True, but I love Dragon. I love him so much that I’d fight just for the chance that someday he’d be happy. You need to decide if you love Jacob that much, or if everyone and their mothers are right and you’re too young to know that kind of love.”
“They think I’m too young?” I ask, hurt but annoyed because it seems I’ve been the topic of conversation among the Savage MC compound.
“Why do you think they moved you away from the parties and things? They see you as a young kid sister they need to protect. Hell Crusher even lets you call him by a name he hates.”
“They don’t,” I argue, though warmth fills me at the thought of these tough men thinking of me as family.
“Yeah, you’re right,” she says and damn there goes that feeling of belonging out the window. “Bull absolutely does not think of you as a sister.”
Yeah, I’m not going there.
“Turn the light out, I need to sleep,” I say rolling over on my side and curling back into Jacob’s pillow.
“Just saying, hooking yourself up to Bull’s wagon would definitely be easier and he’d be good to you.”
“He’s not Jacob,” I whisper the sad truth, “I don’t want anyone but Jacob.”
“That’s how I knew Dragon was the one for me, Carrie.”
I sigh, my brain is on overload.
“Do you know, I’m not that much older than you are?”
I did. I don’t say anything.
“I have a brother. No one knows that. He’s actually a half-brother, who is ten years older than I am. A brother and we never talk, ever.”
“I…” Nicole goes on before I have a chance to say anything.
“He’s thirty-five years old and all he can do is drink and make mess after mess. My father always bails him out. Me, they refuse to talk to. Even when I sent word they were going to be grandparents, they wouldn’t talk. They’re older, my brother is older.”
“Nicole…”
“My point Care Bear, is that age is just a number. When I look at you I don’t see a young girl who doesn’t know her mind. I see a woman who has survived. I see a woman who is in love.”
“Care Bear?” I ask, my heart feeling a little lighter.
“Dragon says he heard Dancer call you that. I like it. It fits you.”
I don’t reply and she must give up, because she turns out the light. I hear the squeak of the door.
“Nicole?”
“Yeah?”
“I won’t give up.”
“I never thought you would. Take a nap, I’ll be out here with Bull if you need me.”
“What was all of this?”
“Even strong women need a kick in the pants.”
“So you just kicked me?”
“You’re welcome,” she says and I hear the door close.
I fall asleep with a smile on my lips for some reason.
Dragon
I
’m probably making
a mistake. Hell, I don’t know. I’ve wrestled with it for a week and I’m still not sure how to handle things. The only thing clear is that Dancer is not getting better. He may have allowed Carrie to get closer to him, but a damned fool could see he is just going through the motions. If I continue to ignore it and do nothing? If I do that and Dancer keeps spiraling? That will be on me. So, I know I have to try and reach him. The thing is, I have no fucking idea how to do that.
When I talked with Nicole in Dance’s hospital room and he started having a nightmare, I didn’t think anything of it. I thought he was reliving almost drowning. I know he is having trouble adjusting to the outside and I know he has secrets. I had no idea how bad those secrets are.
When he screamed out against unseen men holding him down, my blood ran cold. When he cried out how he would gut them? My heart stopped. When Dance cried? Cried in his motherfucking sleep? I wanted to join in. I didn’t. My woman did. She cried and looked at me with such sadness, I wanted to scream. Instead I held her close, buried my face into her neck and tried to absorb her. His words didn’t stop, each one more horrific than the next. When Nicole could take no more, I kissed her forehead and squeezed her shoulder. Then, I watched her leave.
It was all I could do not to leave with her. She ran from the room, ran away from the horrible truth. I didn’t. I stood there listening to a story unfold that brought me to my fucking knees.
Now this shit is like acid swimming in my system. I need to try and help Dance. I need to be here for him, like I failed to do when he was locked up. I just don’t know how. I am at a loss. So, I find myself here. I figure I am fucking up, but I’m afraid not to try. Me…
afraid
. Fuck.
When Dancer makes it into the club the room is eerily quiet. There’s no music, no crowds, nothing. It’s empty with the exception of me. I’m sitting at a table with a bottle of Jack and two glasses.
“What the fuck is this?” Dancer demands stopping at the door. His hands are pushed so far in his damn jeans, it’s a wonder the pockets don’t rip.
I don’t respond. I figure he knows what is going on. I pour two drinks and kick a chair out in front of me. I watch his hand shake as he rakes it across his beard. He doesn’t want this. Hell,
I
don’t want this.
“Say what’s on your mind,” he orders, watching me.
I take my shot and down it quickly. I drop the glass back on the table. The sound echoes in the room.
“Sit.”
“I don’t feel like doing this shit…”
“SIT THE FUCK DOWN!” I yell, because I knew this wouldn’t be easy, but fuck I don’t need it to be any harder either.
“Drag, this isn’t your concern, this isn’t your fight.”
“Don’t make me tell you again, Dance.”
He sits down, refusing to look at me. He downs the drink I poured and then pours another one, downing it just as quick.
My phone is sitting on the table, the ringer is turned off, but it vibrates.
I don’t bother looking at the number, already knowing who it is. The boys know what is going down tonight. They know to stay away from the club. A few are outside monitoring for protection, but they know not to come in.
“Hey, Mama.”
“Just letting you know I’m here, sweetheart. You were right. Carrie’s pretty upset, she is crying in the bath right now.”
“Thanks baby, try to stay off your feet and tell Bull if he don’t keep you two safe I’ll…”
“I’m pregnant Dragon, not struck with some dreaded disease. I’ll be fine. Stop worrying, you’re starting to sound like a mother hen.”
We just found out she is pregnant. It still seems unreal to me. My heart is so full of Nicole; I never realized there would be room for more. Nicole managed to make that possible though. She gives me more even when I don’t realize I want or need it.
“Whatever Mama, I’ll see you when you get back.”
“Love you, Dragon. Forever.”
“Forever, Mama.”
I hang up and find Dancer just staring at an empty glass in his hand. I take a deep breath and decide to just dive in.
“It can’t keep going on like this, Dance.”
“Don’t know what you mean,” he lies and I know he is lying.
“Tell me another one,” I respond, filling our glasses again. I just stare at mine, the amber liquid blurring.
“I’ve got a handle on shit,” he lies yet again.
I guess hardball it is.
“You look like death warmed over, your woman is currently in a bathroom crying over your sorry ass and all this is
after
you drove your vehicle into a fucking lake trying to end it all. Doesn’t sound at-fucking-all like you’ve got a handle on shit.”
“I believe I said I don’t want to talk about this,” he growls, moving to stand. “I’m not two, I’m a grown ass man and I do
not
want to do this.”
I grab his wrist to hold him in place.
“You move out of this chair and you will regret it. We’re going to have this shit out. We’re going to have it out now and we’re going to work through it. I will
not
lose another brother. I will not lose
you
. Do you hear me, Dance?”
“You’ve become a meddlesome motherfucker since I’ve been gone, Dragon,” he sighs, but relaxes back into his seat. Only then do I let go and take another drink. Fuck, I’m going to need it.
“You want to tell me why driving your car off a ledge is better than reaching out to your family?”
“I’m not getting why you think this is your business. You weren’t there. You haven’t lived any of this shit. I have. If I don’t want to discuss it, then by god I should have that right.”
He’s right, I think for a second, but disregard it. If he hadn’t tried to end it, he’d be right. If he was coping worth a damn, he’d be right. He’s dong none of those things.
“It is my business. You’re my business. You’re family.”
“This family is so fucked up Drag. I’m not sure that’s a good thing anymore.”
It’s a low blow, but I allow it. I still can’t figure out how I missed the signs about Irish.
“You can talk or I will, Dance. It makes not one damned bit of difference to me at this point.”
“I got nothing to say.”
I sigh. I was hoping this would go a different way.
“When you were unconscious at the hospital you had dreams,” I watch as my brother’s face turns pale white.
“You don’t get to go there, Dragon,” he says, the words lie heavy in the quiet room. His voice is laced with a cold anger that could chill a man to the bone. “This is my fucking life, and you do not get to go there! You do not get to fucking discuss it and we’re not talking about this fucking shit!”
He gets up throwing his glass across the room. I don’t know where it lands. I’m too busy watching my brother. Too busy seeing the misery inside of him literally bleed to the surface.
“This does not concern you, Dragon. This has nothing to do with you. This is
my
fucking life and I will deal with this shit the way I want to!” He growls starting towards the door.
“You’re not dealing with it, Dance. Man, you aren’t even going to the damn therapy appointments the hospital set up.”
“You’ve been fucking checking up on me? What the hell gives you the right?” He yells, turning around to look at me.
“Dance man, I care about you. Hell, we all do. I want to help you.”
“You can’t help me! You don’t know a fucking thing about it! While you were here finding the woman you wanted, I was the one rotting away! I was the one locked behind steel doors, spending my nights staring through bars! I was the one being beat down by the guards! I was the one whose soul was shriveling inside—dying little by little, piece by piece, every fucking, damned day! I was the one who was held down and beaten nearly unconscious while the guards laughed! I was the one they forced! I was the one…SON OF A BITCH! JUST STAY OUT OF IT! It was me, not you, not Crusher, not motherfucking Bull, none of you! It was me! So, don’t you fucking try to tell me what the fuck I need to do! You have no clue! NONE!”