Roar (11 page)

Paul rises very slowly, and I feel the hairs on my skin rise. Paul is cool and calculating; he’s putting random pieces of my puzzle together. I know he can’t finish this particular puzzle without all the pieces, and I will never give them to him, but I hate he is getting more of a glimpse with every step into my past the Shaw brothers bring.

“No one will send you away, but it is late, and it is time for you to go home,” Paul says coolly before turning his back on us and heading up the hall. There is a certain amount of relief to his retreat. I don’t feel any fear; just disappointment and relief.

“Davey, I don’t want you walking home. I’ll call Nona to come pick you up.” It’s then the fear slips under my skin. Is Nate still at Nona’s? It makes sense for him to be; he needs to be cared for. Although, he seems to be handling his pain threshold and healing better than I would have thought. Today he used his shoulder more than any doctor would ever allow. He had a one-inch hole right through him, and he held me tighter than ever. I should be ashamed of myself… I am ashamed of myself.

Nona picked up on the third ring and, as I thought, she had no idea where he had gone. It didn’t surprise her he would show up here, though. I don’t know how he knew where I lived, but Beaver Damn is not a big town, and people knew how to talk.

Within minutes, Nona was pulling up to the curb in her big, old Caddy. I was able to relax a bit when I saw that big beast come to a stop and Nate was nowhere in sight. “Come on, Davey, Nona is waiting and my dinner is cold.”

Nona meets us at the end of the drive in her gown and with the stink eye I had always recoiled from. “Davey Shaw, I was worried. I have told you not to wander off.”

“But I had to ask Charlie if she would come,” Davey pleas, not leaving my side.

Come where? He never asked me anything.

“I told you, Charlie is a busy woman and can’t just drop everything to come to your picnic day. You need to give people more notice then twelve hours, my boy. Charlie has to work and help people in need.”

I don’t know what possessed me to speak, though the words fell out before I could hold on to them tight. “I have a couple of days off.”

“See, Nona!” Davey shouts, jumping up and down, grabbing hold of my arm, jolting me a bit. I couldn’t help chuckle against the vibration of his joy. I love to see him happy, and if going to a picnic tomorrow with him would make him this happy, I would do it. It would be the first Saturday I’ve had off in a month, and what better way to spend it than with Davey and his friends.

Nona eyed me, her smile wide, but her eyes a little sad. I knew smiles like that; I see them in the mirror. “Okay, Charlie said she would come to the picnic day, so now let’s go home and let her get back to her night.”

Davey bear hugs me before jumping into the caddy, but Nona comes closer and takes my hand. Hers are cooler, and her skin baby-soft. I don’t want to look away, because if I do, it will be to her soft face and her eyes that tell me truths I much rather stay hidden. She knows more about me than I’d like, and I’m sure point she blames me for the destruction of her family. I would.
I do
.

“Look at me, child.”

I hesitate, though know it’s irrefutable. I close my eyes and sigh before opening them for the onslaught of guilt that’s about to bore into me and never leave. It can squat there with the rest of the unwanted feelings. I expect blame and scorn, amongst struggling with the love she had for me as a child, but what I find in her pale blue eyes is sadness and empathy. I guess I should have expected that, too.

“You are treading water,” she says, before brushing my hair to the side and running her thumb over the rough cut which is trying to scab, “and you’re close to sinking.” My lips part to question, when she shakes her head and sighs, “There’s no denying it, Charlie Girl. I can see it, and I can feel it in my old bones. You need to get out of the deep end before you sink. You understand?”

I think I do. I guess she also doesn’t want me to drag her boys down with me. I nod and smile wryly. “Nona?”

“No. It wasn’t your fault, and the sooner you let that sink into that pretty head of yours, the better. We all need to move on, child; you more than any of us.”

Tears well, blurring my vision. They fall over the ridge, down my cheek, one after another. Her old, soft hand strokes the wet trail and kisses my cheek. “Charlie Girl, I love you like you’re my own, and I hate seeing you like this. If I could fix this,” she nods toward the house indicating Paul, “I would. But the trouble you’re in with that man in there is dangerous, and only
you
can make the decision to do what’s best for you. Not me, and not Nate, got it?”

I nod and quickly peck her flushed cheek before turning and heading back toward the dangerous and troubled life that I’m visibly sinking in.

I close the front door behind me, and in the back of my mind I’m aware of the sound of Nona pulling away, but the only thoughts in the forefront of my mind right now are possible life changes.

In front of me is a fork in the road, stay and hope for a relatively happy life with Paul, or leave. But where would I go? Who will be there for me when I crash? What will become of me with no one to love?

“Charlotte, come have some dinner,” Paul says, bringing two served plates to the candlelit table.

He looks so soft and handsome under the flickering light; I still don’t understand what he sees in me. I still can’t believe such a man could ever be cruel. Most times, he’s not. Most times he is caring and gentle and loving, just needing to be loved himself. He’s broken, and I can relate to that.

Walking with purpose, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and kiss his parted lips that await and know me.

I WANTED TO GET
Davey last night. In part, it was my manipulative doing for him to go there. It’s the first time I have used his disorder to my advantage, and I feel like a right asshole for doing it. Desperate men turn to into assholes sometimes, I guess.

I couldn’t drive him there. Davey can’t keep a secret to save his life, but I wasn’t comfortable with him walking alone after dark, so I followed him. I watched as Charlie welcomed him in, gritting my teeth until I’m sure I was pulverizing them to dust, when I saw her in that sweet negligée she wore for
him.
Nona saw my truck around the block, so I know I was made, yet I would put up with the scolding over and over for a chance to see Charlie, to help her.

She needs to help herself; I know this. In fact, if any anonymous program is accurate, she needs to want to help herself. But I think she needs a nudge to see that she deserves a new life away from her new abuser.

I still can’t believe what a fool I was not to see it. The signs were there, the way she moved hesitantly around him, how she never looked for Nona or Davey when she returned. It was my pride and hope that she had fallen into the blessed life of a doctor’s girl, and maybe one day his wife, wanting to leave her tainted life behind. I didn’t even care that she dressed differently or spoke differently, like those upper-class women from country clubs. I just wanted her to be happy, even though it wasn’t with me, because women like her wouldn’t look at men like me. But now I know, and I won’t stand back and watch her shrivel into the other kind of women—the beaten-down kind, and I don’t just mean physically; mentally is just as dangerous.

So no, I don’t feel the tremendous guilt I should for sending Davey out to ask her to the picnic today. I knew she would never be able to deny him, which means, I’ll get her away from Paul for a while; long enough for her to see her home is with me.

I won’t be playing ball with everyone today, which is a shit because she could never deny me without a shirt on before—well that, and the injured shoulder is a bit of a handicap. But I have a plan.

Nona leans into me, “She might run once she sees you. I hope you’re prepared for that, because your cheeky grin scares me,” she says, and I chuckle.

“Ye of little faith. She won’t disappoint Davey, and she will find it increasingly difficult to deny me. Once Charlie gets here, everything will come around the way it always should have been.”

“Oh, sweet boy, I just don’t want you to get your hopes up, is all.”

“Nah. Stop worrying about me; go rescue Davey from the likes of Carla.”

Nona looks over at my brother, he’s glowing as red as the tablecloth in front of him. Carla, his girlfriend, just kissed his cheek, and they both giggle into their shoulders. It’s like watching kids, so innocent and untouched by a cruel world. I will always protect him from that cruelty until I die. A vow both Charlie and I made their first week at school, when Billy Summers and his dickhead followers threw a rock at Davey. It wasn’t long after that Nona took him out of regular school and began home-schooling him. It was lucky she found so much help from Willow Lakes.

The next day, Charlie, all of six years old, walked right up to Billy and kicked him in the shins. I watched from my bench right up until that moment when fear struck me down hard as Billy recovered quickly and raised his hand to her.

I was quick, even back then, and I drove my shoulder into Billy, forcing us both to the ground. It wasn’t my first suspension, nor it my last, but the bond between Charlie and I was like stone. I knew she would always look out for Davey without thought of repercussions, just as I had. Dangerous for both of us, for many reasons we never understood at that age, nor cared, but Davey needed us. And now, I’m using her need to care and protect him against her for her own good.

Nona chuckles as she wanders toward the table of friends and family members of Willow Lakes. I wish she had an easier life with a loving man by her side again, but coming into the life of a woman caring for a grown man with the mentality of a thirteen-year-old, an ex-con grandson, and shit-load of rumors, no man worth a damn comes her way.

I fill the last icebox with ice, close the lid, and look up to find Charlie’s car pull into the lot. My heart raps hard and fast, but I keep my cool. I feel like a fucking teenager again, only I never had that underlining fear of rejection before. Charlie had always been mine, and I hers. This was completely foreign to me.

I grab the other empty ice bags and tread toward the bins which so happened to be near the lot. I can see her through the windshield staring at me. She had to know I’d be here, but she still looks as though she’s in shock. Good sign? Who knows?

She’s composing herself from behind the wheel, and I try not to grin as I make my way to her car after dumping the rubbish. She watches me like I’m a wild animal approaching her car, like those drive-thru zoos. I’d love to take her to one of those; we seemed to spend a lot of time at Mrs Fisher’s after her first visit with the eagle. I think she needed to see it was possible to be once damaged, and then free.

I open her door and smile as her eyes stalk my every move. “You can’t stay in there, you’ll cook.”

“It would be easier to,” she admits, making me laugh.

I reach for her hand, and she follows every single move, right to my fingers wrapping around hers, pulling her delicate hand toward me, urging her body to follow. In slow motion, she follows, and it takes everything for me not to wrap my arms around her and kiss her as she stands so close by my side. She’s still hawk watching my every move as I close her door. I hate that she thinks everything would be easier than being with me. But I guess it’s true, and you can’t argue with what is.

“Easy has never been how we roll, Charlie.”
But that doesn’t mean I will give up. I’ll just fight harder
.

I FOLLOWED HIM RIGHT
to the slaughter… okay, slaughter probably isn’t the accurate adjective, but with all the staring and questions, I would rather the easy slaughter.

Everyone is nice―nice smiles, nice conversation, nice families, but nice doesn’t mean anything real. My mother was nice, yet she had a child to a monster. Daddy was nice―a nice member of the community, nice public servant within the force; nice was his mask to the truth of the darkness to his soul. Paul is nice, until he feels threatened. I’m nice, and yet… you get the point. Nice is nothing but a cover people use in the presence of others, and I’m surrounded by niceties.