Shattered Chances: A Breaking Black Companion Novel (11 page)

“Paul. Tim. You coming?”

Paul remarked with a menacing smile, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world!”

Oh, hell. There are two Randy’s. Wait til I tell Tessa.

Hank called from the kitchen, “Tim! Keep them out of trouble!”

Tim looked irate.

“Randy. I cannot get arrested. I ship out on Monday!”

“Tim, you worrywart. You will be good and pretty for your date with the Marines. It’ll be fine.”

Paul stretched his inked arms out as he cracked his knuckles.

“Let’s go pay Daddy dickhead a visit.”

“Mouth!” Mary yelled.

“Sorry.”

As my eyes grew wide, I watched as the three guys walked out, intent upon moving me out from my mother and violent step-father’s shadow for good.

25.

Randy

“Anybody want to tell me what’s going on before I show up and wreck this asshole?!” Paul yelled as he put his keys in the ignition.

“Exactly what it looks like. He slapped her around and when she fought back, he tried to strangle her. Don’t even get me started on the verbal and mental abuse he dishes out on a daily basis…”

“Please tell me you messed this guy up!”

“Yeah, I completely lost it,” I admitted.

“How bad?”

“Bad. I stormed in the house and he was on top of her, choking the life out of her. I took a baseball bat and smacked the hell out of his face.”

“How many times?”

“Just once.”

“You didn’t lose it. That sounds like a controlled situation for you,” Tim admitted.

“Just once? He’ll live.”

“Once is bad enough. Don’t get me wrong, he deserved it, but…”

“But nothing. We’re putting an end to this today,” Paul said with a hard edge to his voice.

“Shit, I’m going to jail,” Tim complained.

***

The second I inserted Chey’s key into the lock, the door swung open. Dave stared back with a hardened glare, an ugly purple bruise covering the right side of his face where I had rung his bell with the Louisville slugger. Several teeth were missing from his mouth and there were scratches down his arms from where Cheyenne had fought back. Before I could say a word, Paul damn near knocked me out of the way. With a crazed look on his face, Paul confronted Dave.

“So you’re the one who likes beating on girls!”

“Who the hell are you?!”

“Your worst nightmare.”

“Cute. Get the fuck off my property.”

Dave Grisham’s brass balls had no limits.

“I don’t think so. A guy that puts his hands on a woman is nothing more than a pussy… and I don’t back down from nobody.”

“And what the fuck are you gonna do about it?! I don’t even know you!”

“You don’t want to know me and I assure you, I will lay a beat down far worse than my young cousin. MOVE.”

Paul passed him making way for Randy and Tim.

“Assault on a police officer… You’re not smart are you?!”

“I’m smarter than I look. Attempted murder. Endangerment of a minor. Let’s not forget the failure to uphold your oath as a police officer. Force feeding a mentally ill woman drugs. I know the law, you smug jerk off.”

Paul spit at his feet.

“You make me sick,” Paul screamed less than an inch from Dave’s face.

While Paul kept Dave under control, I ran up to Cheyenne’s room and collected as much of her stuff as I could. The room was destroyed. Dave had obviously come in here and went postal. I started packing her clothes into trash bags. I grabbed as many of her sketchbooks as I could, her Walkman, CD’s… the claddagh ring I gave her for Valentine’s Day. Then just when I was about to bolt out the room, I stopped dead in my tracks. Amidst the destroyed room, the walls with holes in them where Dave had punched through the drywall in anger, I saw something that would be of great value to Cheyenne. In a cracked picture frame, a photograph of Cheyenne and Michael West lay unscathed. I bent down to pick up the photograph. I brushed off the shattered glass and removed the photo from the frame.

“C’mon! We gotta go!” Tim yelled from downstairs.

I pocketed the photograph, grabbed as much of Cheyenne’s stuff as I could and bolted down the stairs just in time to see that my cousin Paul had made Dave piss himself in fear.

“Go near her again… Touch her again… LOOK at her… and I’ll be back motherfucker. Next time I won’t be so fucking nice!”

Paul let go of Dave’s shirt and Dave scrambled backwards, trying to put as much distance between himself and Paul as possible.

“Oh, and Dave…”

Dave stared in fear.

“We were never here.”

Dave shook his head.

“Never where?”

“Exactly. Don’t make me come back to this shit hole.”

Paul turned on his heel leaving Dave Grisham and his wet pants alone in his disheveled house.

***

When we arrived back at the ranch, Cheyenne was a frantic mess. Averi was sitting on the porch swing with Cheyenne as she tried to console her.

“Look, they’re back,” Averi said trying to sound positive.

Paul got out of the truck looking utterly amused. Tim was happy they didn’t get arrested, and I was relieved to have this over with. Cheyenne hugged me when I came onto the porch.

“What happened?! Was he there?!” Cheyenne demanded to know.

“He was there, but nothing happened,” I said with a smile.

“Really?” she asked, sounding unconvinced.

“Oh yeah… Randy messed him up good last night,” Tim said.

“Plus Paul kept Dave company,” I said as I winked at her.

“Oh?” Cheyenne asked. “Did you have a nice chat?”

Paul sat on the bench next to Cheyenne as he rested his hand on her shoulder. He shrugged as he recounted what happened in the most non-chalant manner.

“I just gave him a
gentle
reminder that if he bothered you again, I’d be paying him a friendly visit.”

Even Cheyenne couldn’t help but laugh. The big brute was quite charming, but he was not the type of guy you wanted to cross.

“Oh,” I said just remembering what I had for her in my pocket. “Here.”

I passed the photograph to Cheyenne as her face lit up.

“Thank you,” she whispered in my ear, my voice tickling my neck.

I kissed her on her cheek.

“You’re safe now.”

26.

Cheyenne

Senior year flew by at a frantic pace. I saw my mother just once during that time – in the hospital when I found out she had survived her latest crisis. But when I showed up, she wasn’t happy to see me. I was told that I was self-righteous and self-serving for leaving home. She had clearly made her decision, and I had made mine. I loved my mother, but she did not have my best interest in mind. If it was self-serving for me to remove myself from an abusive and dangerous situation, so be it. Dave would have killed me that night if it wasn’t for Randy. She had turned her back on me, and I would do the same to her.

Life had gotten easier on me living with Randy’s family. While the school work that came with senior classes was hard, just knowing that I was coming home to a safe house gave me the security I needed to sleep at night.

Trent had been lying low after his run-ins with Randy and Colt and as a result, he had resorted to barking up Stephanie Roger’s tree. This was just fine for both myself and Randy, seeing as how their unwanted attention was a source of contention in our relationship. Trent’s name alone set Randy on edge. This was no secret around school and it made Randy an easy target. People loved making up rumors. Stephanie would set the wheels in motion telling her friends she saw me hanging out with Trent. Randy, like any man, had his moments of insecurity. Two days before the Senior Prom, he had sunk into the depths of his misery when he heard from Ricky Carmichael who heard from Shelly that Jamie Bonaventure said that Stephanie caught Trent and I making out in his car. For one, Trent doesn’t even own a car. He rides around town on his father’s vintage motorcycle. For two, I would never cheat on Randy. Ever. So when Randy approached me, questioning me if the rumor was true, I laughed at first, but then when I saw how serious he was, I grabbed his hand and pulled him from the cafeteria and into a quiet corner of the school yard.

“Randy… I would never cheat on you.”

“They said you were in Trent’s car.”

“Uh, Randy… baby… Trent doesn’t have a car.”

Randy suddenly had an “A ha!” moment.

“Right.”

“Its just people talking shit. Besides, I took care of the simple bitch that made up that lie.”

“You did?” Randy asked, sounding confused.

“Yeah, look,” I said pointing to the other side of the school yard.

Sitting across the school yard with a miserable scowl on her face, Stephanie Rogers glared at Randy and I. Her nose was wrapped in white tape and tufts of her hair were missing.

“You broke her nose?!”

“It wasn’t intentional.”

“You broke that bitch’s nose for me?!”

“Uh huh…”

Suddenly, Randy grabbed my face and gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“Besides, Randy… I spend all my time with you.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding sheepish.

“One more week and we’re outta here. Keep your head.”

***

Prom night had finally arrived and we were both psyched. Randy’s grandparents were out of town unexpectedly. They had to go to Shreveport for a funeral. So when Randy told his uncle that we were taking a road trip post-prom, I thought for sure that Shawn would say no.

“So whaddya say?”

“Randy, you’re eighteen now. I’m not going to stop you, but I swear to God, do NOT make me fly down to Florida to cart your ass out of jail.”

“You’re the best Uncle Shawn!” Randy gushed as he gave me a high five.

“Yeah, yeah.” Shawn said rolling his eyes as he left the room.

To say that we are excited is the understatement of the century. There was no limo, no grand ballroom, but you could cut the anticipation with a knife. Randy wore a black tux for the occasion while I opted for a black spunky tea length number with spaghetti straps, a glittered bodice, and a flouncy tulle skirt. I added my own style to the get-up with my favorite pair of cowboy boots. I wore my hair down in loose curls and I had on very minimal make-up, just like Randy likes. He hates lipstick. Says it feels gross when I kiss him when I have lip gloss on. So I go without.

We drove to the gymnasium in Randy’s truck, ready to kick off prom weekend in a big way. It wasn’t prom that I was excited for. I was for what would happen later. Our twelve hour road trip to Tallahassee, Florida, our shared hotel room. A whole weekend without adult supervision, the interference of Trent or Stephanie, or the well meaning, but ever watchful eye of Randy’s grandparents.

It would happen this weekend. I could feel it.

27.

Randy

I’m scratching at my neck before we even arrive. I hate dressing up – especially in this monkey suit. Cheyenne looks gorgeous in her dress. My brain, being the sick, deranged pup that it is, keeps imagining her with the dress off.

Stop. You have to get through prom. And an entire road trip. Get a hold of yourself. Think of unsexy things. Grandma’s dentures. Colt kissing Averi. Uncle Shawn’s yellow socks. Yeah, that did it.

This was a desperate situation. I’d been going out with Cheyenne for damn near two years. I tortured myself long enough. I’d been a gentleman. Now I was ready to throw the good boy act out the window.

It would happen. I just knew it. There was a charge in the air, a spark in the night, and not a damn thing standing in our way.

***

The first song played from the speakers and Cheyenne led me to the dance floor. I’m fine with slow dancing, but hell, she’s got me out here moshing to Rob Zombie. I’m glad
she
was into the music. I tried to keep up with my two left feet. Putting her hands in the air, she sashayed to the beat, making me look like a chump.

When she realized that I was not keeping up, she grabbed my tie and pulled me to the center of the dance floor. It was almost as if it was planned because right as we got to the center of the floor, DJ of the century went from playing death metal to the Beach Boys.
As Wouldn’t It Be Nice
played from the speaker, I couldn’t help but laugh. She wrapped her arms around my neck and for the moment I got lost in her eyes. As the song came to an end, she whispered in my ear, “Let’s blow this joint.”

Our bags were packed in the car. She brought an extra change of clothes for me to change into so that I could drive in comfort. Before dinner had even begun, we were bolting across the state of Texas, beating a path towards freedom.