Shattered Chances: A Breaking Black Companion Novel (16 page)

“Ave, not all relationships end in happily ever after…”

“Shit, I know that. You don’t have to marry her… Maybe what she needs right now is someone to lead her from the darkness.”

“A friend.”

“Yeah, a friend. I think she’s in real trouble, Randy… and I know that if anything happened to her, you would blame yourself. I tried to call her back, but it went straight to her voicemail.”

Her words were sinking in. 

“I can’t tell you what to do. I can only try to guide you into doing the right thing. You have an opportunity to save someone you love. You have a history with her. Only you can walk her back from the ledge she’s on.”

“I can’t trust her.”

“She can’t even trust herself. This is a cry for help, Randy.”

That’s what hit it home for me. Cheyenne loved me. She was desperate for me. But she knew she didn’t deserve me after all she put me through. Even though she hadn’t knowingly cheated – she wasn’t of her right mind – she sometimes needed that fix to drown out the demons. The shattered memories of the past. 

I needed to make a decision. Could I forgive her for the hell she brought me through? Or would I forever carry around the burden of losing the only women I bared my soul to? 

I reached for my cell phone expecting to see at least a dozen missed calls, but to my surprise there wasn’t a single one. My heart sank. 

“How many?” Averi asked as I got off the couch and pulled on a t-shirt. 

“She hasn’t called. Something is wrong.” 

“Where are you going?”

“I have to take care of something. Tell Tim and Colt that I’ll meet them at the gym later on.”

“Please be careful.”

“I will,” I said before giving my sister a kiss on the cheek. 

“And Randy?”

“Yeah, Ave?” 

“Keep your head.”

***

I stepped out of my pick-up truck at 72 Herring Way and slammed the door shut. My eyes peered around, keeping a close watch on my surroundings. Cheyenne lived in a rough part of town, and this was Devil territory. A place that I was not welcome. 

The front window had been broken and now sheets of plywood covered it to prevent anyone from breaking in. The front door was badly battered. I could see where it was kicked in, black boot marks scuffed the surface and the one frame of the window was broken. Looking over my shoulder once more to make sure no one was approaching, I knocked at the door four times and waited for someone to answer. 

I was nervous. I didn’t know what I would find, but I did hope that Cheyenne was okay. Averi was right. I did love her. Too much. That is why I had put on the hard front. I was hurting inside and I wasn’t the type of guy that spoke about emotions freely.  The curtain rustled in the door pane and a pair of eyes stared out at me. Quickly, the door opened and Gina West, Cheyenne’s mother screamed at me.

“What the hell do you want?!” Gina asked. 

I was not fazed by her attitude. I had very little respect for Gina for what she dragged her daughter through at such a young age. 

“Have you seen Cheyenne?”

“I was about to ask you the same question!” 

“What are you talking about?”

“All she can seem to talk about is you… and I haven’t seen her since last night since she left the bar with Trent.”

“With Trent.”

“Guess she figured you weren’t ever coming back… Can’t even call her. Are you trying to drive her off the deep end?!”

“Gina, I don’t have time for your issues and hers. When you see her tell her I was here…”  Gina laughed in my face. 

“You know I won’t!”

And with that she slammed the door leaving me standing on the sidewalk fuming and even more concerned for Cheyenne’s wellbeing. Gina was not the type of mother that had your back. She let her daughter walk out with a notorious drug dealer. A guy notorious for using women and discarding them when they were no longer of use to him. 

“Fucking low life,” I muttered as I walked back to my truck. I had two more stops to make. I was hoping like hell that I’d find Cheyenne. I had a bad feeling. Something was telling me that I had to act fast. 

Dropping my head into my hands, I muttered, “Please be okay.”

Cheyenne

My head pounded as my eyes slowly opened. My face was sore, and I knew it had bruised overnight. There was a banging sound echoing through the room and I swore that I heard yelling, but I wasn’t sure if I was still dreaming or not. I wished last night was a figment of my imagination, another nightmare. Unfortunately, it was my reality.

I felt unwell. Thin and stretched out like a piece of cloth pulled taut across a table, its fibers and weaving coming undone from the strain.  A light shone through the battered mini blinds that hung in Trent Myers’ bedroom. His house was in shambles. There were holes in the walls where his temper had gotten the best of him. There was trash everywhere, needles, drug paraphernalia littering the carpet that hadn’t been cleaned since his mother passed away. Lord only knows what kind of things it had growing and living in the fibers. Repulsed by my surroundings, I pulled myself off the bed, thankful that I was not still tethered to the headboard. 

I didn’t see Trent anywhere. The knocking had ceased but my head had not stopped pounding. Then I heard a door open and slam shut. It had to be him. Scrambling to get dressed, I pulled on my jeans and a white top, slipped on my shoes and hid in a corner. An odd scent attacked my sense of smell. There was a pizza box with mold growing in it, along with a hearty collection of empty beer cans that had been thrown carelessly in the corner. I could hear Trent talking to someone. It sounded like he was on the phone. Standing perfectly still, I closed my eyes as I listened. 

“You’ll never guess who came knocking today…”

“No. Fucking Randy. I didn’t have a chance, he left before I could…”

The voice on the other end of the line continued. 

“It don’t matter. He came calling for Cheyenne. I have her locked in the bedroom upstairs. She’s our ticket. I bet you she knows where they are living!”

My mind raced as I listened to Trent’s words. Randy had come for me. They were going to use me to get to him. 

What did they want with Randy?

Not allowing myself another moment to mull it over, I bolted from the corner. I tried to open the window but it was nailed shut. I could hear his footsteps approaching. My mind was frantic, trying to think of an escape plan. My eyes zoned in on a chair sitting at a table on the far side of the room. Not wasting time, I ran for it, clearing the trash off the seat. As I began to drag the chair across the room, I noticed something green on table. A pile of cash. Considering it a down payment for all the pain he had caused me, I swiped it, not thinking twice. As the sound of Trent’s footsteps echoed down the second floor hallway, I sent the chair crashing through the bedroom window. As I climbed onto the windowsill, Trent charged through the bedroom door with a crazed look in his eyes. As he went to grab me, a smile creased my face and I jumped twenty feet to the pavement below.

57.

Randy

I got back in my truck, pulled the door shut and cast a venomous look out the windshield. I had knocked on Trent's door for over ten minutes, but no one came to the door. In a moment of pure rage, I balled my hands into fists and slammed them on the steering wheel. There were relationships that were difficult; filled with drama and heartache. There were relationships that were toxic, with no semblance of good in them. But then there was me and Cheyenne. We had a history. We knew what buttons to press with each other. We knew how to piss each other off. But no matter what, no matter what she put me through I would always be there for her... and no matter how many times my rough nature pushed her away, she would always go running right back to me. Rubbing my right hand over the back of my head, the same way I always did when I was frustrated and at my wit's end, I tried to channel my anger. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm down. I failed. All I could see was Cheyenne's face. I wanted to escape the drama. Escape the constant fighting. But now without her, I couldn't escape the nagging feeling that what I was doing was wrong. What if Averi was right? What if she was taken advantage of? What if she had no clue what was going on? I believed in my heart that

Cheyenne was a good person. I knew she was. I had seen it in action. But I simply couldn't watch her fall down the rabbit hole, anymore. It killed me. It was still killing me. I needed her in my life, but I needed to be able to trust her, too. 

That is when I saw it. A red blur running down Corriander Lane, Cheyenne had jumped from Trent's bedroom window and was bolting down the street. Eyes wide, I watched as the love of my life ran in fear from an as of yet unseen threat. I wanted to chase after her. Hold her. Tell her it would be alright. But I knew she wasn't running from just anything. I would wait until the bastard that she was running from showed his face. I wouldn't have to wait long. Less than a minute later, Trent showed his ugly face. Straddling his Harley, Trent raced after Cheyenne with his lip snarled and his mind burning with thoughts of what he would do to her to make her pay for her transgression. 

"You'll pay mother fucker. Trust that," I said as I slammed on the gas and catapulted the truck up Corriander Lane. 

58.

Cheyenne

My breath hitched and my lungs felt like they were going to explode. My fingers grabbed hold of a chain link fence. I pulled myself over and fell to the ground on the opposite side. Not even bothering to brush myself off, I kept going, running, dodging obstacles and putting more distance between myself and Trent. He had the edge on the road, so I went off-road, running through backyards and swerving down narrow alleys where Trent couldn’t find me. I couldn’t allow myself the glance back out of fear that

Trent would be there, ready to take me down. Swerving down a dark alley, I plunged into the darkness, unsure if I would ever come out. 

59.

Randy

“C’mon son of a bitch!” I yelled, winding through the streets of South Oakeley. 

I was right on Trent’s ass. I didn’t care if I ran him off the road.  

“Pull over!” 

Trent didn’t respond, continuing to weave through the back roads, not giving a damn who got hurt in the process. My truck was not meant to barrel up tiny streets such as these. Nothing would stop me though, as I chased down the guy who had preyed on Cheyenne since we were in high school. 

Trent kept his eyes on the road ahead of him, trying to plan out his next move. I was right behind him, and I knew his reputation well. If given the opportunity, I wouldn’t hesitate to put him out of commission. Zipping down Farringer Street, Trent’s bike screeched, careening out of control with a Black Ford F150 in the way. Tim’s truck had blocked his path. Trent skidded off his bike, sending him flying to the ground landing under Tim’s truck. The only part not under the belly of the truck was his head. Trent watched as Colt stormed out of the truck and stomped the ground just inches from his feet. Pulling him up by his collar, Colt slammed Trent against the hood of the trunk. 

“What did I tell you about leaving the women in this town alone?!”

“I haven’t gone near Averi!”

“I know, because you’d be fucking dead.”

“Get off of me!” 

I brought the vehicle to a stop and walked over to where Colt had Trent gripped up against the truck. I tapped Colt’s arm letting him know he could let him go, but before Trent could let out a sigh of relief, I sent a fist flying for his nose. The same nose that I had broken twice before.

“Fuck!” Trent yelled as blood gushed from his nose, dripping over his mouth, chin and the ground below. 

“What did you do to her?!” I screamed.

Trent laughed through his pain. He wasn’t going to give me the benefit of having the upper hand. 

“Motherfucker!” I screamed as I rammed my elbow into Trent’s mouth. “Stay the hell away from her!”

Trent kicked me off, sending me flying backwards. This only pissed me off further. 

“Trust me. She’s mine. She’ll want what I have. She’ll be going through withdraw soon enough,” Trent said with a callous tone to his voice. 

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” I insisted.

“She’s not yours. Not anymore.”

“The last time I checked she is a person. A grown woman. Not a fucking possession. Her parents might not care what happens to her. You might not care about what happens to her… but if she is hurt, so help me God, Trent. You’ll be a dead man.”

I let Trent’s jacket go as he backed away. “I’m not joking. If you’ve hurt her… touched her in a way she didn’t allow… I’ll fucking put a bullet in your brain.”

Trent skulked off, running towards the street corner and retreating down Monument Avenue.

He left his bike in shambles in the middle of the street. As we watched him leave, Colt grabbed my attention.