Shattered Chances: A Breaking Black Companion Novel (12 page)

28.

Cheyenne

Something about this drive felt important, unchartered; a journey into the unknown. Through the plains of Alabama, the Mississippi mud flats and Cajun country, we stampeded towards the future. We stuck mostly to the highways – US 190 was well lit and since it was night time, there was hardly anyone else on the road. Though the temptation was great, Randy did the speed limit. We didn’t want any trouble, especially outside of our home state. We were planning on getting into a whole different kind of trouble, anyhow.

29.

Randy

We stopped in Opelousas for some food around 2 A.M. The only restaurant open was a diner called Mel’s. Mel’s was your standard Mom and Pop diner that served mediocre food at reasonable prices at whatever hour of the day you happened to stroll in. Cheyenne was still wearing her prom dress and I looked like a total schlub next to her in my white t-shirt and jeans. Cheyenne didn’t seem to mind, though.

We ordered breakfast which consisted of pancakes and eggs, fresh fruit, bacon and toast. The way to my heart was most certainly through my stomach and now that I was full, I was felling happier than a pig in shit. Excuse the expression.

After our feast, we were back on the road. I had no intentions of stopping. I couldn’t resist her much longer. I was half-tempted to pull over on the side of the road and take her there.

Get it together, man
. I’ll wind up scaring her away before we even get to Florida.

Just then, she uncrossed her legs, propping her boots on the dashboard. She flashed me a glimpse of her thigh. She glanced over at me and blew me a kiss.

Oh, hell. I’m screwed.

Pressing the gas pedal harder, we catapulted faster toward our destination.

30.

Cheyenne

It felt like we were on the road forever, but when he pulled the truck into the parking lot of the Atlantis Hotel, a sense of anxiety overcame me. I had planned to make Randy’s jaw drop. Show him what it meant to take things to the next level. The poor guy had no clue what I had in store for him. I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face.

“What are you so smiley for?” Randy asked with a grin. I laughed.

“We’re in Florida, finally! The Sunshine State!”

We checked in and got the key from the front desk. We wandered down the long hallway towards room 4E. Randy opened the door and dropped our bags by the bed. Suddenly, I came up with an excuse to get him out of the room for a few minutes.

“Hey babe… would you mind asking the front desk for more pillows and towels?”

“No… I’ll be right back.”

As soon as the door closed, I put my plan into action.

29.

Randy

“Alright, babe. I’m back. I’ve got towels, extra pillows, and…”

Mid sentence, I was rendered speechless and stupid. An avalanche of bed linens fell from my grasp as I looked at the vision before me. Cheyenne sat on the edge of the bed, her dark hair cascading over her fair skin. She had stripped from her prom dress and she now stood before me stark naked. I had never witnessed anything so beautiful in my life. I wanted to run to her, but I was frozen stiff, in more ways than one.

She rose from the bed with a confident smile on her face. Slowly, she approached me, reaching for my hand. Staring at my face, she bit her lip and let out a smart little laugh. That did it. That set me off.

Two years of pent up sexual frustration broke free and I had lifted Cheyenne off her feet and wrapped her legs around me. She clawed her fingers down my back and ripped off my shirt. As I catapulted us onto the bed she said to me in a voice like velvet, “It’s about fucking time Randy Ford.”

31.

Randy

Four years later…

I got the girl and the girl was definitely trying to kill me.

“How did you convince me to do this again?!” I yell at Cheyenne loudly over the hum of the plane’s engine. I laugh nervously as the instructor gives me a glare. Cheyenne laughs loudly as my facial expression which was surely one of “What the fuck am I doing?!”

“Where is your sense of adventure?!” Cheyenne asked.

“On the ground!”

Cheyenne was determined to break my fear of heights. If the flying swings didn’t do it and the Matterhorn at Disneyland didn’t do it, and going on the God forsaken bungee ride at Six Flags Over Texas sure as
fuck
didn’t do it. What makes her think sky driving will be any different? The fact of the matter is, I finally had enough money to afford an apartment of our own and a stable income to maintain us. My grandparents were gone. Both had passed within a year of each other, so it’s not like we didn’t have privacy. It was just Averi at home and she was barely there, anyway. But we wanted something that was ours. Cheyenne immediately agreed, but it came with a catch.

Skydiving was the catch. This woman was going to be the death of me.

I knew she was a thrill junkie from the start. If our first date was any indication of what love with Cheyenne is like, then I am on a non-stop thrill ride, both exciting and terrifying all at once.

“Alright, folks! We are at cruising altitude! Divers #1 and #2, we’re ready for you.”

Barf.

“Just don’t look down, honey!”

I clap facetiously as I give her a death glare. This girl has jokes.

“Funny. So funny that I might just barf on your pretty little head.”

Cheyenne’s laughter filled up the space, and I felt like chump of the century.

“Diver #1… Are you ready?!”

“Ready!” my crazy ass girlfriend says with excitement in her voice.

Groan.

“Diver #2! Are you ready?!”

“Hell no!”

But before I could stop them, I was nudged out of the plane.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!”

I was falling to my death. I knew it. I was frozen still. I couldn’t move if I wanted to. The Texan landscape was crashing towards me at a fast and furious pace.

Oh, my God. Oh, my fucking God.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!”

I’m sorry I missed seven hundred straight Sundays. I’m sorry I didn’t go to confession. I didn’t want to give Father Jessop’s a heart attack. I’m sorry I’m really only religious on Christmas and I take the Lord’s name in vein on a daily basis.

“Sweet baby Jesus in the manger!”

I was pummeling to the group at a ridiculous rate. Was Cheyenne, too? No! She had the testicular fortitude to actually pull the rip cord to launch her parachute. She was descending gracefully with a huge smile on her face. I tried to remember what Paul said to do when skydiving. How had Paul done this over twenty times? These people are crazy. Screaming wasn’t part of the game plan. Neither was panicking. Breathe, right. What else? Pulling the effing cord. But I was frozen with shock. Inhale.
Cheyenne is a dead woman.
Exhale.
Wait til she sees how I get her back.
Inhale.
Fuck! The ground looks close.
Exhale.
Just pull the damn cord!

I could hear Cheyenne screaming at me, “Pull the cord, Randy!”

Finally, I snapped out of it just a few thousand few from the ground. I tugged on the cord as the only thing saving me from death plunged from my jacket.

Holy shit!

The parachute launched pulling me up as the wind got trapped underneath. My descent was slower now and I didn’t feel like I was free falling anymore. That didn’t mean I was a happy camper. The wind blew me westward and I was in hell. It was like the flying swings all over again, only much higher.

Cheyenne let out an exuberant squeal of laughter.

“The shit I do for her…”

As we approached the ground, I noticed a black pick-up truck. A woman stood in the back of the truck with a video camera, taping the entire ordeal.

“Averi!” I yell in embarrassment.

“Wooooo! Randy! Lookin’ good!” my sister yelled.

On the ground, I saw Colt standing next to his truck on the side of the road, laughing hysterically. Tim and Uncle Shawn couldn’t control themselves as they broke into boisterous laughter as they sat on the hood of the truck.

“I’m related to a bunch of jerks!”

But as we hit the ground, I forgot all about my fear and embarrassment and I broke into laughter myself. The adrenaline high had finally hit me now that I was safely on the ground.

“You did good, baby!” Cheyenne said as she gave me a high five. The joy on her face was worth the five minutes of pure terror I endured.

32.

Cheyenne

Two weeks after the sky diving incident, we had moved into a one bedroom apartment just off Monument Avenue. It felt amazing to finally be out on our own. I had a good feeling about this. Through everything, through every obstacle, Randy had been my one constant. I couldn’t imagine life without him. Since we only moved with our clothes and a few personal items, the move wasn’t bad at all. A quick run to Ikea and we had everything we need.

Randy hated shopping, so by the time we returned he was cranky and desperate to chill out on the couch with movie and a beer. Fortunately for him, the fridge was fully stocked. I had gone grocery shopping yesterday, so he had no idea that I had the makings for fried chicken that I planned to make tonight.

When we got back to the apartment, Randy finished putting together the TV stand while I got started on dinner. As soon as he smelled the chicken frying in the pan, he blurted out, “So you do love me!”

“You’re just realizing this? Oh, hey… Don’t forget, we have Torian’s college graduation party to go to tomorrow night.”

33.

Randy

I didn’t want to go in the first place. I just wanted to stay home in our new apartment with my woman, drink a few cold brews and watch a bad movie. Now I’m alone. I have no fucking idea where Cheyenne is and she is not answering my calls.

FUCK! Pick up the phone, Cheyenne!

34.

Cheyenne

I could hear the voices around me talking in hushed tones.

“So far, she’s been unresponsive. Her vitals are good.”

I didn’t know what was happening. I could feel my eyes rolling in my head. The faint light from overhead, the movement of the gurney I was lying on, the voices all made my head pound.

“No tracks. She’s not a habitual user. Run toxicology so we know what we’re dealing with.”

Tracks. I felt like a train chugging down the tracks, the one-way express barreling for the gates of hell, plunging into the dark tunnel with no light at the end.

“In the mean time, order a rape kit. There’s a lot of blood. She was found discarded partially naked in a dumpster.”
 

Rape
.

Before I could fully process the thought, the voices silenced and the lights went dark.

35.

Randy

I sat in the dark of the apartment alone. I had called her phone at least a hundred times. I left over sixty voicemails. I just wanted to know if she was okay. This wasn’t like her at all. I dropped my head into my hands as anxiety coursed through my body. I felt hopeless. Helpless. These feelings put me on edge, made me feel out of control.

The phone rang, jerking me from my moment of reflection.

“Hello?! Cheyenne?!”

“No. It’s Uncle Shawn. We found her.”

“Where?!”

“Stay there. I’m coming over.”

“Is she alive?!”

“Yes.”

“Is she okay?”

“That’s what I need to talk to you about.”

Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good.

36.

Cheyenne

I awoke with a start. There were wires hooked to my body. I wasn’t wearing the clothes that I dressed in for the party, and my whole body ached. I tried sitting up but it felt like something was torn. A nurse came into the room and laid me back down.

“You cannot get up. Do you remember anything from last night?”

“No,” I said as I scratched my arm. It felt like my blood was on fire.

“You had a near lethal dose of heroin in your system.”

That is when it came back to me.

Trent. His hands on me. The needle. The alley. Me screaming but no voice would sound out. Calling out Randy’s name but he didn’t come. Mick Penn in the alley laughing at me. The pain. The fear.