Crash & Burn (7 page)

****

             
I have nothing left, so fuck it. I give up. Grabbing a couple of bottles of Cognac,
Tanqueray, Jack, some X, coke and Trix, I head straight to hell.

Road Rage

Lil

             
I had to get my things out of that house. We need space and that’s what I’m giving
us. We need miles of it. Maybe it’ll bring us back together in the end. You know the
saying, absence makes the heart grow fonder? God, I fucking hope there’s some truth
in that. If not, then I don’t know what I’ll do …

The thought of being apart hurts, but I have to do it. Then again, maybe this shit
is all for nothing. Maybe there is nothing more that can be done. Right now I’m choosing
to have hope though. I’m choosing to hang on to what we used to have. I’ll protect
it with my life. I’ll do whatever it takes. My last ditch effort is giving us space,
distance and time.

I’m trying to be patient and understanding, but he makes it really fucking hard. All
I know is that we’ve got to get along and deal with one another. This club is my life
too, so we have to find some balance and be civil. If leaving is what can wake him
up, I’ll do it. I’m trying to bring him back to me. He may push me away from himself,
but I won’t let him push me away from my family. He will not run me off.

****

             
Not surprisingly, the club is pretty busy today. When I pulled in, Stitch and Rampage
were acting like they were twelve and beating the shit out of each other in that godforsaken
ring while Gin’s hunched over his bike, tinkering away. Everyone is working and it’s
business as usual around here. Walking into the club, the air shifts and something
feels off as soon I step through the door. It’s stifling inside. The relaxed vibe
from outside is nowhere to be found on the inside. Happy makes a bee line for me before
I can make it past the front door.
             

“Whatcha doin’ here sis?” Is he serious?

“Uh, is that a trick question?”

“Sure the fuck isn’t. You wanna grab up some lunch with me?” He asks. His voice is
a little panicked and his eyes are a little frazzled. What the fuck? Since when does
he want to hang out with me? Lately he avoids me like an ex-wife.

“Yeah, after I’ve done a little work … What the hell is wrong with you Happy?”

Waving me off, he says “Nothin’.” He’s being pretty dismissive while he glances around.
Yeah, I’m not believing him.

“Seriously, why are you actin’ like a fuckin’ nut job?”

“Damn, I’m not. You wanna go for a ride with me then?” Okay, that’s it. Something’s
goin’ on. Either that, or he got into some bad weed.

“Alright. Well I got shit to do so I’m gonna let you stand here and act weird, my
friend.” Side stepping him, I make a grab for the office door.

“Lil, please” Happy clips in an agonized groan, but it’s too late, the damage is already
done. Biggest mistake of my life.

             
My breath leaves me in a rush as my lungs compress painfully in my chest. I feel like
all the air has been violently punched out of my body and my poor damaged heart stops
and burns in my chest as I struggle to get sufficient air into my lungs. My vision
blurs and those fucking tears find their way to the surface.

My desk is a fucking mess. All the papers I had neatly stacked on top of it are strewn
all over the floor. My eyes follow the trail of empty bottles of liquor and discarded
articles of clothing littering my office floor. That terrible raw spot in my heart
splits open and bleeds slowly ‘cause nothing in my life will ever be as terrible as
this.

Tank is sprawled on the couch in the corner, wearing only his black boxer briefs.
One arm is thrown carelessly over his face, while the other is hanging off the couch,
clutching a bottle of Tanqueray, and blood from his newly stitched up arm is dried
to his forearm. Trix is completely naked, lying on top of him. Her body is molded
to his, and I can see some sick satisfaction on her face even in her sleep. I swallow
down the vile lump in my throat at the sight in front of me. I want to scream. I want
to kick the fucking shit out of the both of them, but nothing happens.

I feel completely numb, like this is an out of body experience. It’s like I’m watching
it happen to someone else. My mind won’t let me process the scene in front of me and
I blink back the tears, willing them away. I’m not doing this. Not here, not now.
Taking a deep breath I turn around to leave. Out of nowhere, the whole goddamn club
is watching my epic downfall and humiliation. They’re all watching me, faces expressionless
as they stare at me. I will not cry. I will not fucking cry. He’s not worth my tears.

“I’ve gotta go.” I whisper through the choked back sob and tears.

“Sis” Gin pleads softly, grabbing my arm as I pass and I can see the pity in his eyes.
Why would Tank do this? They all probably saw it coming. I can’t do this. I
will not
do this and I shake his hand off me.

“Leave me the fuck alone.” I can’t look at him. I can’t look at any of them. I turn
and walk out of the door.

****

             
“Hey Sammy. Any plans for the next few weeks?” I sniffle into the phone pathetically.
God! I sound like a soppy ass loser, but I’m all cried out now, leaving me a snotty
and raspy mess. I finally let it happen and I let all that shit go. I couldn’t hold
it in once it got started, so one tear was followed by a million. I cried for a while.
I cried until my eyes felt swollen and raw and there were no more tears left. Now
the tears have dried up and morphed into to something different.

They’ve turned into an emotion I can’t place and if I could, I wouldn’t even have
a name for it. It’s something like love mixed with hate, and a little bit of rage
thrown in. I want to say it’s hate that they’ve turned into, but I don’t think I could
ever truly hate him. No matter how bad I want to to, I just don’t think I have it
in me.

I feel so betrayed and let down by my best fucking friend. He was always supposed
to be on my side treat me good, to love me. He was never supposed to break me like
this. I should have never let him in. I should have never trusted him. The sad part
is I’d do it all over again to be able to feel that intense love for the short time
I got it.

The worst part of this whole mess is I feel fucking stupid. How could I have not seen
this coming? I feel like I left that door wide open for him, like I invited the trouble
in. As much as I want to blame Trix for this, it isn’t her fault either. She was doing
what she does ‘cause she’s a whore. That’s all she’ll ever be ‘cause it’s all the
bitch knows. She knew Tank was mine, but she did what I’m sure he asked her to do.
I hate the nasty slut, but it still isn’t her fault. But when I see her, I’m still
gonna kill her. I’m going to kill them both.

I’ve gone through the, w
hat ifs
. What if I would have tried harder? What if I would have loved him more?

Fuck that. I did everything that I could have done and I refuse to take the blame
for this anymore. He acts like he’s the only motherfucker that had to deal with this
shit. I had to be strong for him, but he couldn’t, no, wouldn’t give that to me.

With the phone pressed to my ear and my face pressed into my pillow, I whine to my
cousin.

“Shit baby. My schedule just cleared so pack a really big bag. I’ll let Trace and
Tyler know you’re headed our way. Daddy will clear out the spare room for you.”

“Thank you.” I sound like I’m having an allergy attack.

“Don’t thank me, but let me know who the dead asshole is that Daddy’s gonna be ordering
a hit on.”

****

On my five hour drive I listened to every sad song ever made.
I’ll Be, Nobody Knows, Nothing Compares to You, Foolish, It Will Rain,
Have You Ever, Tears in Heaven
and the list goes on. I listened to them on repeat while I sobbed, letting my fifteen
dollar mascara run down my face. I stopped by every comfort food drive-thru I saw.
I stopped at Krispy Kreme, where I ate five glazed doughnuts and stuck the other seven
in my back seat for later. Wendy’s, there I ate a large fry, deluxe burger, and nuggets.
Baskin Robbins, I got a triple chocolate cone and a gallon to go. Don’t judge me.
Heartbreak does this to a girl.

My sad self-pity grew into violence. I got mad and beat the living shit out of my
steering wheel. Fuck him. Fuck him for breaking my heart. So I listened to every angry
girl power balled out there.
You Oughta Know, Don’t Take It Personal, Take a Bow, Creep, Fancy, Hit Me With Your
Best Shot.
My four personal favorites were,
Smoke, Drink, Break-up, Just Like A Pill, Alive,
and
Teary Eyed.
They all left me feeling empowered and ready to drag that asshole behind my Jeep by
a long rope on a sharp rocked, gravel road; with some razor blades thrown in for shits
and giggles.

Then I proceeded to have a bit of road rage, taking my anger for Tank out on my fellow
travelers. I cut off a bitch in a station wagon, I threw my ice cream cone at a man
on a bike, flipped off a trucker, and break checked a douche in a big truck. I’m not
proud, but feelin’ slightly better. It was a long trip, but I made it in one piece,
and with part of my sanity.

****

             
My Uncle Danny’s club looks nothing like ours back home. Where ours is very industrial
with metal, concrete, steel, and exposed duct work, theirs is rustic, worn and woodsy
with wood of every kind, river rock, and natural colors. Their club is basically a
tiny broke down cabin in the middle of the woods on a river. Old. It’s up in the mountains
of Oregon, off a logging road that winds its way through the mountain side. If you
were a hiker and stumbled upon on it, you’d definitely think some axe murders happened
here. I packed up my Jeep and headed out here as soon as I got the go ahead from my
Uncle. Not that I needed to pack really, my shit was already in bags, which is sad
all on its own. I’m fucking homeless. I’m a homeless, manless, makeup smeared, hot
mess. Sad days.

I turned down that long gravel logging road and was met by my cousin Tyler and two
other guys. I guess they were expecting me to bring people with me. Even though they
are a chapter of the Disciples in Washington and they’ve always been close, these
guys out here in Oregon are a little reclusive and guarded when it comes to anyone
not directly in their club.

I’ve spent time up here during the summers playing in the rivers and lakes with my
cousins. We’d run around this place, camp out, fish, raft, drive the back roads, and
play on ATV’s. During the winter on the rare occasion the club wasn’t safe, my dad
would send me and my mom up here too. We’d play in the snow and sled, sit by the fire
and play games. Even though this isn’t home, it’s pretty goddamn close. I feel comfortable
and safe here.

I’m safe from Tank here.

For all that this place lacks in esthetics, it makes up for in memories and heart.
This cabin was my Uncle and Mom’s great-grandfathers years ago. Over the years, it’s
been added on to and fixed up with minimal repairs, but it’s held strong. This place
has strong bones so I can see why my Uncle picked this place to call home.

             
“C’mere Sis.” my Uncle waves me over as soon as I set foot out of my Jeep. All the
way over here the nickname carried. Since I was a tiny little girl, it’s been what
the guys have called me. I guess being like their little sister, it just kind of stuck.
Either way, it doesn’t bother me anymore. It is what it is and there’s no changing
it now.

“Thanks for lettin’ me crash.” I tell him as he pulls me into a bear hug, squeezing
the air out of me.

“Don’t thank me for shit. You’re family n’ we do for family, always. Anyway, I send
your ass away, Lucy will haunt my ass.” He says as a sad look passes over his rough
and wrinkly face with the mention of my mom, his little sister.

“Well I’m happy to be here.” Hearing him talk about my mom hurts, hitting that slowly
healing part of my heart reserved for her. It’s healing, but part of me thinks it’ll
never fully recover. What I wouldn’t give to have her here right now. A shoulder to
cry on, a source of never ending support, and a back bone made of love and steel that
would have been here to help hold me up. She might have even killed Tank for me. God,
I miss her.

“Here.” Taking my bag from my hand, Dan hurls it to a man standing a few feet away.
“Take her shit up to her room.” The man catches it. Nodding at Dan, he looks at me
and gives me a chin lift and a soft smile.

“Lilly.”

             
Buck. A man I’ve known a long time. I used to spend summers here and he would occasionally
stop through our place when we were younger. We used to be pretty close. His light
brown hair is shaggy and messy, standing on end and it makes me smile. That man has
perpetual bed head. Where Tank is handsome and rugged, but beautiful, Buck is rough
and hard, very much a mountain man. A face covered in a full beard hides a good portion
of his face. Both arms are sleeved from fingers to shoulders, his chest and back completely
covered in colorful tattoos in every variety. Hell, they run to his thighs and they
run up this neck and to his chin.

We had our little thing when I was seventeen and he was eighteen. It was a few weeks
of summer fun. It was during a time Josh was fucking around on me and I’d broken it
off. He got his and I got mine. Buck and I are good now, we always have been. He got
married and had a few kids while I moved and went to school. Friends are all we’ll
ever be and I’m good with that.