A Fighting Chance (16 page)

“I have to go somewhere. How about you climb in bed with Ava?”

“Is it work?” I ask looking at his face. Even in the dark I can see the look of worry on his face. I know Max still thinks I’m made of fine china and he wouldn’t leave me, especially at night, unless it was a real emergency. “Max, what is it?”

“It’s Savvy. That was Levi. Look, just go get in bed with Ava. I’ll be back as soon as I can, then tomorrow morning well go on our ride like we planned. OK?”

“No, I’m coming with you. If this has to do with Savvy, I’m coming with you.”

Max sighs, and then says, “Alright, we’re just going to my office. Levi has Savvy there.” Well, I wouldn’t have taken no for an answer anyway. His hand comes to my knee. And even in the dark, I can see the seriousness in his face. “Savvy got beat up. It’s not going to be pretty. I just want you to be prepared.”

My heart sinks and immediately I think of Reno. That bastard laid his hands on Savvy, I just know it. I quickly get dressed, and we head to his office. In a back room of the office, Max has a bedroom set up just for situations like this. On the bed, I see Levi sitting with Savvy. Max doesn’t take kindly to men who lay their hands on a woman, and by the pissed off look and the body language coming from Levi right now, I can tell he feels the same way. She has an ice pack on her eye and some abrasions on her knees, and some pretty ugly bruises forming on her upper arms in the shape of fingers.

I run to her and hold her while she cries. Levi gets up and he and Max walk out into the hallway talking in hushed voices. I just hold Savvy while she cries. Like she did for me, I didn’t pry or make her tell me her story. I’m just there to hold her and be there when she needs me.

Savvy and I fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. I was woken up to Max gently shaking my arm. The early morning sun is shining in through the window, and I can’t believe we slept the rest of the night in this tiny twin size bed together. I look at Max’s hand on my arm and see bruised and bloodied knuckles. I don’t ask why or how. I know why, and I know who. And I’m completely fine with that. I also realize that I slept without any demons, without Max’s arm draped over me. Yes, I slept with Savvy, but even that is an accomplishment in its own.

Looking in the doorway I see Ava. What is Ava doing here? Max says to me in a whisper, “Ava’s going to sit with Savvy for a little bit. We have someplace to be that can’t wait.”

Savvy’s still sleeping, so I gently remove myself from her clutches and kiss her on the head. She has a really bad swollen black eye, and the bruises that she had forming last night are now an ugly black color and cover most of her upper arms. I hope Max gave him a sock in the eye for me, too. I don’t know what Reno looks like, but if I ever run into him, I’ll nut punch him then wrap them around his neck until he screams like a little girl.

Stepping out into reception, Max has brought my leathers from home and they’re sitting on the receptionist’s desk. It’s hard to enjoy them as much as I was hoping to, knowing my friend is lying in the other room beaten up by the hand of a man who should love his woman, not abuse her.

“Is he…” I begin to ask.

“He won’t be bothering Savvy anymore,” he says flatly.

And that is all that needs to be said about that. I look sadly at the door where Savvy sleeps. I was looking forward to this ride, but my friend who stood by me also needs me.

“We’ll only be gone a few hours. Ava promised not to leave her side until we get back. Levi will be here, too. Reno is nowhere near here, I can promise you that,” he says to me running his knuckles softly down my cheek. There’s a strange look in his eye, and I’m about to question him about it when he says, “You know I’d never raise a hand to you, right?” His Adams apple bobs in his throat as he looks so lovingly into my eyes.

“Never,” I assure him not even missing a beat.

“I love you, Chloe,” he smiles.

“I love you too, Max,” I say with a lump in my throat.

I feel slightly better as I put on my purple duds. Max hands me a box with a purple bow on it. I’m slightly shocked by it. What could he possibly be giving me now? I sit down in the receptionist’s chair, place the box in my lap and open the lid. How in the hell did he know? Inside is a kickass pair of purple combat boots. They crisscross lace up to the top and have four buckles on the outside of the boot. They have a thick, black chunky sole and my feet tingle with anticipation to put them on.

“But…”

“I saw you looking at them online,” he answers my unfinished question with a grin. I jump out of the chair and give him a huge hug. My man knows me so well.

I flip off my shoes and sink my feet into the coolest combat boots I’ve ever seen in my life! Now I feel like a badass! When you see a hot, tatted, muscular man sitting on a Harley and you think to yourself, yep that is one fine badass specimen of a man, that’s exactly how I feel right now about myself. Except, I’m a badass chick.

Max gets on the bike first, and like last time, he steadies it for me to get behind him. We take off with a rumbling roar and head out of the city. The sun is still rising in the East, the wind is blowing my hair under my helmet, and I feel as free as I did last time. I completely understand a man’s passion for his bike now. There’s just no other feeling quite like it.

After almost an hour ride, he slows the bike and heads down a dirt road. Small rocks and dirt fly from the rear tire as I’m instantly hit with an overwhelming feeling. It’s filled with dread and anger and I’m not exactly sure why. Max’s hand comes to my knee and gives it a squeeze. He never lets go, until he parks the bike in front of a run-down old house in the middle of nowhere. I know this feeling now. It’s unmistakable. I was drugged when I was brought here and it was dark, and I was in shock when I left here in an ambulance.

I never knew what the outside of this house looked like, but I’m certain this is the house of
that
man who kidnapped me, the man who I shot dead in this basement held me for three long years. I can tell you the exact number of dots in the white drop ceiling tiles. I can tell you the exact paces it took to get from one side of the room to the next. I can tell you the exact amount of time it took the water to run down the pipe from the toilet upstairs when it was flushed. I can tell you all this, but I could never tell you what the outside of this house looked like, until just now.

My chest constricts and it’s hard to breathe. Max gets off the bike and puts the kick stand down. He pulls my legs together facing the house then stands behind me, squeezing me almost as tight as my chest is constricting my lungs. They burn for air. Terror fills my soul. Why would he bring me here? I hear his soothing voice in my ear, but the words don’t comprehend. My head starts to feel fuzzy and I think I’m about to pass out, when a loud semi-truck pulls up beside us and blares its horn demanding my attention.

“I’ve got you. Just watch,” he says in my ear. Just watch? Just watch what? I’m so confused. The front of his body is pressed tightly to my back. His arms have mine crossed over my chest, his lips are at my ear repeating over and over, “I’ve got you. Just watch.” My ears start ringing as I hear a loud mechanical noise coming from my left where the semi is. My eyes won’t let me take them off of the nightmare filling my vision. I know he’s dead. I know he’s not in there. I know he can’t hurt me. Why is Max doing this to me?

“Breathe, babe. Just watch. I’ve got you and I’m not letting go. Just hold on, they’re almost ready.” Tears stream down my face as a million different emotions crowd my brain. The voices aren’t screaming anymore. They’re shouting in my head and wrap around each other creating a monster that I’m sure will swallow me whole any second. Just when I think my lungs can’t take anymore and I’m about to finally pass out, there’s a loud noise and things start to come into focus. It’s a wrecking ball and it just hit the house. The large metal ball passes through my vision in slow motion as it hits the house again. The left side of the roof and wall crash inside the house. I cover my ears and close my eyes, but Max pulls them away and says, “Listen, babe. Open your eyes. Feel it, feel it in your soul.” Only then did his soothing voice break through and my lungs fill with desperately needed air.

The ball swings again, and the front window smashes into a million pieces as the front of the house crumbles inside itself. The tortious bonds that bound me to this house fly up to heaven with the dust and smoke from the wrecking ball. It’s liberating and cleanses my soul of what I didn’t even think was still there.

I watch every swing of that ball, and with each one I felt a lightness to my spirit, and peace and joy fill my heart. As the last wall comes down, I realize that I have a huge smile on my face. For good measure, the wrecking ball drives up the heaping pile of what used to be a house of horrors. It sinks almost flat to the ground. What was once a basement is now filled with a house that can never haunt me again. The driver of the wrecking ball gets out of his cab and walks over to Max and me.

“This is a nice piece of property. What are you going to do with it?” he asks.

“I haven’t quite decided yet,” Max replies.

“I know exactly what to do with it,” I butt in. “We’re going to turn it into a safe house for battered women,” I say matter of factly.

“We’re turning it into a safe house for battered women,” Max repeats to the man. “It’s going to be called, Chloe’s House.”

A smile forms on my lips. Yes, that is exactly what this will be. What once was a house of abomination, will be a house of refuge for women who believe they have no other options but to take what their so called husband or boyfriend have to dish out to them. And if any of those women need prenatal care, I can help them with that too. Women should always have a choice. I don’t want any woman to think they don’t because they have nowhere else to go.

Dumpsters are being brought in and the house will be hauled away, evil brick by brick. With each piece that is thrown in a land fill, I visualize a tiny piece of my soul put back together like a puzzle. The basement will be filled in with cement, never to be seen again. A new house will be built, suitable to house several women at a time. What was once a house of repulsion will be a house of hope to many. The place where the house used to sit, I’ll plant a garden and in that garden things will grow, and it will be a reminder that we can move on and that it is possible to flourish and live a happy life, even after tragedy and unimaginable heart-break.

The final layer chipped away.

Max

I had hoped that bringing Chloe back to the site wouldn’t throw her into another tail spin. I knew her reaction would be traumatic, but I also knew how freeing and liberating it would be to see it come down right before her eyes. I don’t think she ever thought about that house, but I didn’t want it to be an unanswered question some time down the road for her.

My woman sits on my hog, in her sexy as hell purple getup, looking as fine as can be, and I snap a picture. Looking at the screen, it instantly becomes my favorite picture of her. The peaceful look and the love in her eyes shine so fucking bright. I wrap my woman’s arms around my chest and we ride back to my office. Savvy is up, but she’s not talking to anyone about what happened. Not even to Chloe.

All we know is she hasn’t been able to work since the bar burned down. She’s been living in a run-down house with Reno while getting the shit beat out of her on a regular basis. I can’t believe I never saw the signs before. I take full responsibility for what happened to her. I should have seen it.

Chloe’s been gently trying to get her to open up for over an hour now. I’ve been out in the hallway listening if she can get some answers.

“I just don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t go back to Reno’s house. I know Max said he’s not coming back, but it’s not my house. What am I going to do?” she cries to Chloe.

I can’t believe I’m about to do this, sometimes women are a pain in the ass. I walk in the room and my blood boils at the sight of her black eye. “You can stay here in the office until you find a place of your own. My receptionist just quit, I’m hiring,” I say and walk back out of the room. I head towards my office, but I’m stopped by a gentle hand on the center of my back.

“Thank you,” Chloe says. I turn around and look into the eyes of the woman that I’d do absolutely anything for. Even hire a woman that annoys the piss out of me. But, no man, under any circumstance, will ever raise a hand to Savvy again.

I nod my head at Chloe and walk into my office and close the door. I open the safe and stare at the two files that I haven’t touched in over fifteen years. The tab on one of the files simply reads ‘Dead Beat’. The name Jimmy Jones would never be worth the paper it was printed on, so therefore didn’t deserve it. There’s another file right under his that just has my birth certificate in it. It has the name of the woman who gave birth to me filled in the spot that says mother, but that’s all I’ve ever know of her. A name. I’ve never seen a photo of her, and being only two days old when she left, I don’t remember the sound of her voice either. Did she talk to me and coo in my ear like all the mothers do at Chloe’s work? Did she cradle me and hug me to her chest right after I was born? I was always told she was a strung out loser, and that she probably died in a gutter with a needle sticking out of her arm. The pictures my dad portrayed of her were evil and hateful. But then again those words are the exact definition of my dad.

Where are these feelings coming from? I always swore I didn’t care where either of them ended up. I always thought the gutter was too good a place for parents who treated their kids the way they treated me. I wasn’t good enough for my mom to stick around. Why my dad stuck around, I may never know. All I know is that I was his personal slave.

Sharla Jones is a name I try to forget. But just like for Chloe and that house, the unknown haunts me. I guess for me, I don’t really care where good old Jimmy ended up. I knew him for too many years as it was. Leaving him was my choice. Not knowing why my mother left me is something that’s bugged me my whole life.