Inside the Storm Read online

  Leaning back into my own space, I sit up and use another tissue. “Tell me more.”

  The kind lady continues her story. I listen to every word she says for miles and miles. I lean my head against the window, watching the rain trickle down the glass. Even though I am hearing a perfect love story that should make me smile, I can’t seem to show emotions. I am becoming numb inside. My heart is shattered. I feel like I’ve just had my first break-up, but Blake and I weren’t even a couple. One date, and one hell of an amazing kiss. That's all we had. I shouldn’t feel this broken over a person I barely knew.

  The day turns into evening. After a seven-hour-long bus ride, I finally reached my hometown. When I step off the bus a lack of warmth sweeps over me. I shiver. My sweatpants and shirt are still damp from all the rain they soaked up. I was already drenched when I saw Blake. I just stood there in front of him, getting wetter, and it didn't faze me at that moment. I am freezing now, though. The sweatshirt I got from my bag on the bus did nothing to take the chill off. I truly am just cold and empty.

  I head toward the coffee shop when I see an open sign. I can smell burgers grilling in the air. My gaze turns to look across the street. I’m never going to be able to eat another Whopper without thinking about Blake. He gave me one of the best nights of my life. Who am I kidding, it was hands down the best night of my life - period!

  The continuing rain has soaked me all over again. The storm isn’t settling down. In fact, it is intensifying. The thunder cracks and lightning flashes are more frequent, barely seconds apart. Once I am inside the coffee shop, I order a coffee the way I like it. I take it over to a two-person table and set my bag down. I don’t bother sitting. I’ve sat long enough. I watch outside as the world passes by. I thought coming home would feel different. I didn’t expect to come home to a welcome party or anything like that, but I at least thought I would get those warm fuzzy feelings a girl should get when they are about to see their only parent after fifteen years. Maybe I can’t feel a damn thing because I’m too numb inside.

  I am lost in thought when I hear the door chime to announce a new customer. I look up and see an old man shuffling toward the counter. He walks with a cane, his pale skin tone showing the hard years he’s lived. He gets two coffees to go, and as he is about to leave he simply says, “It’s wet and cold outdoors. My wife and I would like to offer you a ride if you need one.” I want to jump at the chance to save money by not taking a cab, but I don’t know this man. I don’t want to be a burden on him and his wife. “I see you are hesitant on my offering, my wife thought you might be.” His lip curls when he smiles. “I am Frank by the way.”

  I gratefully agree to take the ride Frank and Gladys offered. I sit in the backseat of their car with my stomach in knots. I don’t know if I made the right decision in coming home. I have no idea whether my father still resides in the same house where I spent the first fifteen years of my life. Hell, I don’t even know if he is still alive. It seems like I am uncertain of just about everything in my life these days.

  As we pull into the driveway, I thank the lovely couple for the ride. They ask if they should wait, and I tell them no. I hope I don’t regret that decision.

  I ran to the front porch, feeling like I could literally throw up. I lift a hand to ring the doorbell. Within seconds the door comes flying open and I get my first look at my father. His skin is weathered from the years of being a roofer and his full head of hair is now silver, other than that he looks the same. His eyes are still as cold as the last time I saw him. I find my voice. “Hello, Daddy.”

  I suck in a breath when he reaches out a hand and it comes to my throat. “You little bitch! How dare you come back here after all this time!”

  I have had many hands on my throat before, but nothing like this. I feel my eyes water as my life gets sucked right out of me. My lungs instantly burn.

  “Justin Carver, you stop that right now.” I cough and cough when he releases my throat. A woman I do not know stares at me with worry in her eyes.

  My father walks away from the front door. “That woman is dead. I don’t like tricks being played on me. Maggie is dead,” he tells the woman that I don’t know. What is wrong with him? He could have killed me. His own daughter!

  “You will have to excuse him. Justin has the onset of dementia. He gets confused at times.”

  “I am not Maggie,” I blurt out, “I am his daughter.” I look out to the dark, stormy night over my shoulder. I wish I had asked Frank and Gladys to wait for me after all. “I think I made a mistake by coming here.”

  “I think you should come in. Justin is in the early stages. He may know who you are in the morning.” I shake my head no. “I won’t allow him to touch you again, I promise. He was just caught off guard.”

  I let out a puff of air. My gut is telling me to run, however, I don’t have much money left after buying my bus ticket. I am cold... scared... and exhausted. I don’t have much of a choice really. I step inside his home. I see my father in a recliner with his attention on the television. Please don’t look at me, I silently pray.

  “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes. You can take a hot shower while I get Justin into bed.” I nod my head.

  I know where the bathroom is so I don’t wait for her to show me. I close the door behind me. My hands are trembling, but I manage to lock it. I go directly over to the mirror to examine my neck. Bruises are already forming. My father’s handprint is going to be on my neck. Tears run down my cheeks as I fall to the floor. I can’t breathe all over again. I hold my chest as I try to get air into my lungs. I fucking hate myself for coming here. I cry harder and it only causes my lungs to hurt more. When am I going to stop being a worthless fuck-up? I never wished to be dead more than I do right now.

  I eventually calmed myself and showered. Once I am dressed in dry clothing, I walk out into the open floor plan home to find my father isn’t around. A sigh of relief washes over me. I find the unknown woman in the kitchen. She offers me a warm smile. “I made you a bed on the couch.”

  “Thanks.” I see the couch with a pillow and a blanket. “I am just going to go to sleep if that is alright with you.”

  “That’s fine, dear. Get some rest. Tomorrow is a new day.”

  Without another word, I go to the living room and crawl under the blanket. I cover my head as I turn to face the back. The image of Blake smiling as he offers me a drink at his club comes to mind. I feel a sense of safety as I start to drift off to sleep.

  I feel a poke in the middle of my back. What the hell? I just fell asleep. I roll over and open my eyes. The night has turned to morning. I see my father standing over top of me. I jump off the couch to get away from him. “Rochelle?”

  I stare at him, wondering how long he will be this person before me. I know nothing about dementia. “Hello, Daddy,” I say with an uncertain voice. He gives me a cold stare. “It’s been a long time.”

  “You look like your mother.” I smile and I see a switch turn in his demeanor. I ran to the kitchen. He follows after me. “Who are you?” he demands to know while cornering me.

  “I am your daughter,” I choke out before my back is slammed into the wall. His hand is on my throat again before I can escape his grip. His fingers loosen a tad, and I mumble, “Go ahead and kill me. I don’t care.” His grip tightens. I reach with a shaky hand for a knife I see from the corner of my eye. I feel myself fading fast into darkness.

  I blink my eyes open. I sit up fast when I realize I am no longer at my father’s home. I am in a hospital room. I swallow hard and my throat hurts. I lift a hand to touch my neck and I see that my wrist is wrapped in gauze. What the hell? I try to get out of bed, but I am too dizzy. I see the phone next to the bed and grab it. I dial the only number I know by heart, Leather Shots. I feel light-headed. My voice is raw and rough when I ask to speak to Renee. She’s my only hope in this mess I got myself into.

  After watching the bus take Rochelle away from me, I’d stood in the rain for nearly an hour
. Multiple people had asked if I was okay, and I could only imagine how foolish I looked, but some pathetic instinct demanded that I stay. The thought of her coming back and finding me waiting - cold, wet, and very much in love with her - lingered, fading slowly before finally releasing me from my self-imposed prison. She was gone. Driving home and drinking myself into a slumber didn’t help either. I was too restless, and even after falling asleep more than once, it was still only late afternoon when I woke the final time, the effects of the alcohol having mostly worn off.

  After wasting the rest of the afternoon between my bed and couch, I decided that I needed to go out. I didn’t want to, but I had to do something. I put on a nice suit and made my way to the country club. Perhaps I’d find a distraction there. I knew it was a terrible thought, but Rochelle had run away, and some affection might just help, even if it was shallow. I sat in my booth and watched couples come and go for over an hour before a group of ladies came in. Two of them were regulars.

  Both were married, but I’d taken one of them home several months back before finding out she was taken. Married women weren’t my thing, but if a woman was going to hide it from me, that was on her. Their friend, who I’d never seen in the club before, was ringless and drop dead gorgeous. She had porcelain skin and fiery red hair that was wavy and hung halfway down her back. She looked a little younger, but I wasn’t in a frame of mind to question the social-acceptability of trying to bury my emotional turmoil under a night of lust and passion.

  Relying on my usual tricks, I had Sammy send them all drinks with a special one for the red-head. The waitress wouldn’t give me away - they never did - but the bustier blonde screamer I’d taken home pointed my way. The reaction would tell me what I needed to know. With a flip of her hair, she looked my way and blushed wildly as she giggled, clearly not thinking I’d be looking right back at her. This was going to be too easy.

  Making my conquest an even surer victory, the blonde - Traci I think her name was - leaned into the other two and whispered something that made her brunette friend slap her arm and the redhead brings both hands to her mouth in shock. The look on the other women’s faces when they met my gaze again told me it was a complimentary remark on my behalf.

  I rose from the booth and walked over to the bar, wanting to come across less interested than I really was. Sammy was pouring a drink and didn’t even look up when he asked, “Things fell through with Rochelle?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I replied.

  Sammy nodded as he slid the drink over to a waiting gentleman. “Well, I’m glad to see you back to your old self. She looks like a real firecracker.”

  I glanced back to the woman who was trying not to get caught looking my way. After two more glances I started to wonder if she was actually trying to get caught. Just as I was finally about to make my way over, she turned away from her friends and walked over to me.

  “I’m Ashley,” she said in a chipper tone. “Thank you for the drink. How’d you know what I would like?”

  I leaned back against the bar and held her gaze, avoiding the temptation to check her out up close. That was the rookie mistake. Guys that scanned the girl right away showed their hand and usually killed the mood right there. Play it cool, and I was practically guaranteed to get to do more than look. It wasn’t easy. Her creamy flesh contrasted beautifully with the navy dress, and the daringly low cut neckline was designed to pull the eyes downward, but I wasn’t weak enough to give in.

  “I’m Blake,” I replied, “and Sammy here gets credit for your drink. He has a gift.”

  The woman looked surprised that I hadn’t taken credit and thanked Sammy. “Would you like to join my friends and me? I believe you already know Traci.”

  “I was actually just about to leave,” I replied. “This isn’t quite the atmosphere I’m after tonight, but if you’d like to come for a drive with me, I’d love to continue the conversation. I don’t want to ruin your night with your friends though.”

  I knew why she was here. I’d made her night as easy as she was making mine.

  “Give me just a minute,” she replied.

  As she scampered back over to her table, Sammy spoke from behind me. “How you do that will forever be a mystery to me. To get a young woman you just met to leave with you like that - it’s absurd, really.”

  “You have your gift, Sammy, and I have mine,” I reply with a chuckle.

  It wasn’t normally this easy, but the fact that I’d already given her friend a good time seemed to get us past the typical objections. Who’d have ever imagined that having a one night stand with her friend would make hooking up with this girl easier?

  Normally, I’d walk away from someone who seemed too eager. There was little reward in taking a woman home who’d spread her legs for the first man who looked her way. Something about Ashley told me that she wasn’t like that though. She’d clearly come here with the hopes of a good time - perhaps fresh off a breakup or something like that herself. Rather than looking easy, she came off more naive and inexperienced. It simplified things and meant that there’d be an added element of excitement to showing her a good time.

  I wasn’t in the mood to give it much effort, so I certainly wasn’t going to question my luck. Truth be told, I still didn’t even really care all that much to follow through. She was gorgeous, and my body was responding to the thoughts of what I would do to her - a fist full of that incredible hair with her bent over in front of me. I just wasn’t feeling it the way I normally would. It would be a good distraction. At least, that’s what I told myself when doubts gnawed at my mind.

  She came back over to me a minute later; she had the bouncing, carefree walk of a young girl. “I want you to know that I normally wouldn’t just leave with a stranger, but Traci says you’re good, so I’m in.”

  Sammy’s scoff was just loud enough to be heard, and I flashed him an unhappy look, but Ashley was already placing her arm in mine as we walked toward the door. It was time to see if meaningless sex was what the doctor ordered to get past the pain of losing Rochelle.

  The engine roared as I raced us back toward my apartment, and as always, it was more than enough to impress my date for the night.

  The conversation was less than thrilling, mostly because I just wasn’t into it, or really into her, but she seemed to be very interested in me.

  I felt like a robot when we made it back and things began to heat up. We somehow went from drinking and talking to ripping each other’s clothes off as we stumbled into my bed. My body was revved up and I was attacking her as if she were the only thing on my mind, but it was just physical. My eyes devoured her body as it was revealed to me in all its splendor, and my arousal was undeniable, but in order to really get into it, I had to pretend she was Rochelle. That wasn’t easy as their figures were nothing alike, but seeing her naked and thinking of Rochelle was enough.

  I soon had her beneath me in the bed, our bodies fused together as I did my best to pour all of my emotion and frustration into what we were doing. My assessment of her inexperience proved true, and she seemed wholly unprepared for the passion I brought, without any clue that it wasn’t for her at all. It was a distraction from my intended imaginings of Rochelle beneath me. Rochelle would not look shocked at my ferocity. She would meet it with her own. Still, despite Ashley’s response ruining my fantasy, it was a thrill in and of itself.

  Her face echoed every movement inside of her. Ashley was overwhelmed by me. I wondered how many men she’d even been with.

  “You’re…… OH!!!!!” she cried out, never getting whatever thought she had out as she scrunched her face up.

  I eased up, afraid it wasn’t good for her, but her body responded and asked for more.

  I couldn’t see Rochelle there anymore, but thinking of Rochelle, I wondered if this girl had ever done anything really rough. The bruises on Rochelle’s wrists came to mind as I pinned both of Ashley’s arms over her head. Her willingness to be used made me release her wrists to grab he
r hair and pull it down into the pillow as I pushed my body just a little harder. Whether or not she’d done these things before, she certainly liked them, and she was soon screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs. It was good to have a soundproof condo.

  As she came down off her first high, I realized that this was working. Even while thinking of Rochelle, I was getting some pleasure from this girl now - I was feeling something. It was just physical, but it was something.

  I climbed off the bed and dragged her body with me, picking her up and setting her down at my window. The lights of the strip were bright below us as I pushed her against the glass. Pulling her hips back and getting another fistful of hair, I left nothing more than her breasts pressed against the cool glass. It was exactly the image I’d imagined earlier, and it was spectacular, but it was still just physical. I tried to put more than just my body into it, but the more I dwelled on it, the less I even enjoyed the physical. After another hour of flipping her around, tossing her back in bed, letting her get on top, and moving back to our first position of the night, I realized that I just wasn’t going to be able to finish. It had felt good, but I was losing interest rather than gaining speed.

  When I rolled to the side, Ashley rolled over toward me and asked, “Is everything okay? You didn’t finish.”

  It was clear that she was worried and I felt bad for not being able to get there. “I’m fine,” I replied. “You were amazing, but I just don’t think I’m going to be able to tonight. I have a lot on my mind. I hope it was good for you, though.”

  “Yes!” she exclaimed, flopping onto her back. “My ex was never ANYTHING like that!”

  There it was. She’d been recently divorced, and at her age, it was likely a young marriage. If I’d had to guess, I was probably only the second man she’d ever been with.