Shattered Chances: A Breaking Black Companion Novel (9 page)

1. What everyone is led to believe
   
2. What Trent wants you to believe
   
3. The cold hard truth
   

The dismissal bell rang as I scrambled to pack my supplies in my bag. Randy was picking me up outside and I didn’t want to keep him waiting. Suspensions are supposed to be a punishment, right? Yet he got to sleep in til 11, play several hours of video games and chow down on snacks all afternoon.

Hmm… Maybe I should get suspended. Yeah, right. Because I’m really trying to spend any more time that I need to at the hell hole I call home.

I’m just glad that he wasn’t in trouble with his grandparents.

Rushing down the hall to my locker, I planned to discard everything in there, since I have no homework. I stand there trying to get the combination on my locker right. 25-8-42. Cmon! Finally, after the third attempt I got it right. Quickly, I threw my book bag inside the locker and slammed the door shut with a bang.

Shit!

There was someone standing on the opposite side of the locker. They seemed to come out of nowhere. I hadn’t heard them approach me. Trent Myers stared at me with a pair of chestnut eyes that said so much. His face was beaten to a pulp, his right eye swollen nearly shut with a gruesome black and purple bruise. I was rendered speechless He didn’t look angry. He didn’t look dangerous. He looked upset.

“Trent,” I mouthed breathlessly as I turned to walk away.

“Please wait,” Trent asked. There was a sincerity in his voice that had been absent before.

I stopped dead in my tracks. That voice. He was being honest for once.

“Look Trent, I know what you said.”

“I figured he’d tell you.”

“Actually, he didn’t. I heard from Colt.”

“Cheyenne…” Trent said, his voice soft and pleading.

He gently grabbed my arm. I quickly pulled away from his grasp.

“I’m with Randy. We’re happy together. He’s a good guy.”

He grabbed my arm tighter this time. He whipped me around to face him.

“Would a nice guy do this?!” Trent asked pointing to his face.

Gulp.

“To protect someone he loves… Yes.”

“If you’re sure…” Trent said with a charged look in his eyes.

“I am. I am also sure that a guy who mocks his ex-girlfriend’s suicide isn’t worth the pound of flesh God gave him.”

“You think you know me.”

His hands had my wrists entrapped. Clearly, he didn’t get the message.

“Chey!” Randy yelled from the end of hallway. “Get away from her!”

Suddenly, a malicious smile crept across Trent’s face. Randy’s presence had set his temper aflame. Ignoring Randy, I glare at Trent and grit through my teeth.

“I don’t care to know you!”

Twisting my hands out of his, I slam him back into the lockers, my hand flying backwards across his face.

“Stay away from me!”

Trent got up and spit at my feet.

“Are you okay?!” Randy asked, gripping my face with concern.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

21.

Randy

The last day of school had finally arrived, and there was a shock of excitement in the air. Students flooded from the classrooms and corridors, cries of glee rose out above the crowd as I kissed my girl right in the middle of the school yard for everyone to see.

Eat your heart out, Trent.

Cheyenne’s long dark hair was permed and styled in tight ringlets that fell down her back. She wore a fitted black Metallica t-shirt and a pair of tight denim jeans, which I clasped onto with my right hand resting just above her ass. With my left hand, I tugged at one of her curls, just to annoy her. Playing my game, Cheyenne laughed as she flicked my baseball cap off my head revealing a full head of shaggy blond hair that needed to be cut. I loved to torture her. I think it turns her on.

My sister Averi and her friend Shelly sat on the bleachers about thirty feet away, watching us make out with disgusted looks upon their faces.

“God, Randy! Get a room!” Shelly yelled at us.

Cheyenne laughed as I continued to kiss her. Behind her back, I gave Shelly the finger. Shelly Carmichael loved to torture me. Secretly, I loved torture her because I knew she was in love with my brother Tim.

“Cocky jackass!” Shelly yelled, but I didn’t respond. Instead, I held onto Chey’s waist and laughed as I led her to the parking lot.

***

“Baby, what are you doing?!” exclaimed Cheyenne as I moved my hands further up her shirt. Although I promised myself that I wouldn’t take it further until we were ready, I wouldn’t deprive myself of exploring her body until I knew every curve by heart.

We sat in my truck in a parking lot just off Rt. 1. Up to absolutely no good, I smiled broadly resting my hands on Cheyenne’s bare hips. She straddled my lap, moving in rhythm with the radio that currently played Limp Bizkit’s version of “Faith.” I don’t know why, but I fucking love this song. It’s probably because it annoys Averi. Therefore, I turn up the speakers whenever it comes on.

“Whatever the hell I want…” I replied as I bit my lip, my hands traveling up her belly, over her breasts and down her back. I unsnapped her bra and let her breasts fall free. Just as I brought my tongue to her nipple, Cheyenne seemed to remember something.

“Hey, are we going to that party tonight?”

“Fuck no. What party?”

“The one Shelly’s throwing. Word is Ricky Carmichael’s getting a keg.”

“Could be fun. I’d rather grab some grub and go off-roadin’.”

“C’mon Randy… It’s the same shit every Friday night. Let’s do something adventurous.”

“Adventurous… I’ll give you adventurous,” I said as he tickled Cheyenne, pulling her in for another lengthy make-out session.

***

“Shit!” Cheyenne said as she saw the time. The time on the digital clock in my truck said 6:02. “Shit… shit….shit!”

“What?! What’s wrong?! Friggin mellow out!”

“I was supposed to be home to make his dinner at six!”

“God! He treats you like a goddamn servant!”

“He’s my step-father. I have to do it or he’ll kick me out.”

“Let him. You can come live with me.”

“Your grandfather will love that.”

“He’ll get over it.”

“Yeah, right. Look, just get me there. I just need to put something on the table before he gets home so he don’t go postal when I return later tonight.”

Rolling my eyes, I put the truck in gear and hit the gas pedal, heading back towards Oakeley.

“Let me tell you Cheyenne, if he puts his hands on you again, I’m moving you out.”

“I wish it was that simple…”

“It is. If he hits you again, you can have my room at my grandparents. I’ll sleep on the damn couch.”

Cheyenne gave me an appreciative glance. I really did love her. More than anyone knew.

I noticed how nervous Cheyenne appeared to be as she stared pensively out the window. Her right leg tapped anxiously against the floor of the truck. Cheyenne’s face was blanched and the happiness that I found there earlier was gone. She was nervous to go home and that pissed me off more than anything.

“Calm down, Chey…”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can. I’m with you. Everything will be okay.”

“I’m nervous. I need to get the hell out of here.”

“Do you want me to talk to my grandfather?”

As much as Cheyenne wanted to say yes, desperate to get out from under her step-father’s roof, I knew she didn’t want to be a burden to me or my family. Things were already tense when Grandma found us rounding third in my shower. The incident alone nearly gave the poor old girl a heart attack. While Tim and Uncle Shawn found the incident to be hilarious, Averi wasn’t laughing. She thought it was disrespectful. Averi needed to lighten up.

“No, Randy… You have a good family life. I don’t want to mess that up. We will get our own place after graduation like we talked about.”

“That’s the plan, but if he hurts you…”

“It’s not your problem…”

I looked at Cheyenne with daggers in my eyes.

“You’re my girl. Anyone messes with you, they’ve become my problem.”

My outburst caused a smile to cross Cheyenne’s face. “Okay killer… down boy!”

Despite my best effort to maintain a serious expression, a grin formed across Randy’s stressed face. The smiles would not last though. As the truck turned the corner of the street where Cheyenne lived, there was an ambulance parked in the middle of the block – right in front of Cheyenne’s step-father’s house. Paramedics were carrying a stretcher out of the house while two other medics tended to the patient’s needs.

“Mom!” Cheyenne yelled from the passenger seat of the truck.

“Mom!” she screamed again, scrambling to unstrap her seat belt.

Cheyenne’s mother was being carried out of the house on a stretcher. Dave, Cheyenne’s step-father was talking to the police and didn’t appear to be going with her to the hospital. I couldn’t stop her. Cheyenne bolted from the truck, running up the middle of the street, trying to see what had happened to her mother.

“Mom!” Cheyenne screamed, sounding frantic and out of breath.

Her shoes hit the asphalt heavily with each stride.

“Miss! You’re going to need to step back,” one paramedic told her.

“She’s my mother!”

“Step back… This woman is overdosing. Let’s go!”

The paramedic jumped in the back and slammed the door shut. With a loud whir, the ambulance rushed off, leaving Cheyenne alone in the early evening dusk.

My stomach had turned to stone as I watched the ambulance pull off. Out of the corner of my eye I watched as Dave went back inside the house. This wouldn’t end well. Cheyenne and Dave being in close quarters was never a good idea. The two getting together was like a match near a powder keg… Sure enough flames would ignite from the tension that mounted between the two of them.

I waited for Cheyenne in the truck, trying not to jump the gun. But just seconds after Cheyenne slammed the front door, the screaming began. I closed my eyes as I listened to Dave berate and belittle Cheyenne. I tried to stay out of it and I only got involved when Dave resorted to violence. Unfortunately, it happened more often than I was comfortable with. Every time Cheyenne left my sight, I felt like I had swallowed a bowling ball.

Dave’s voice carried out through the window, “Where have you been?! No doubt whoring it up with your loser boyfriend.”

I could hear Cheyenne’s upset voice fight back.

Dave barked, “No! You are supposed to be here to cook my dinner and make sure your mother doesn’t do anything stupid! And now look! I have nothin’ to fuckin’ eat and your mother took a near lethal cocktail of coke, meth and Jack motherfuckin’ Daniels!”

I listened carefully. I knew what was coming. I took the keys from the truck’s ignition and unstrapped my seat belt. Gritting my teeth, I began beating my boots against the asphalt, closing the distance between Cheyenne’s abusive step-father and myself.

“Well nothin’, Cheyenne! You’re too busy out there being a fuckin’ whore than to give a shit about our needs!”

“Your needs!” Cheyenne screamed, “You get her hooked and I’m supposed to play Mommy! Cook your own damn dinner. I’m done! OW! Get your hands off of me!”

My calm evaporated into thin air. Breaking into a run, I pounded the pavement with his feet, ran up the front steps and walked right through the front door that was left unlocked. My sanity threatened to abandon me entirely when I saw Dave crouching over Cheyenne with his hands around her neck. He had her lying down on the couch. Her legs flailed as she tried to break free of his grasp, but it did no good. Her face was turning purple from the lack of oxygen. I could hear her struggle under the weight of Dave’s choke hold.

Darting across the room, my eyes saw red. Grabbing Dave by his long, straggly black hair, I pulled him off of Cheyenne and turned Dave around to face me. Before Dave could get a single word in, I sent a fist flying straight towards his face. Dave crashed to the floor, scrambling to get up, but mid-ascent, I grabbed the Louisville slugger that was leaning against the door and hit a homerun alongside Cheyenne’s step-father’s face.

Throwing the bat down, I rushed to Cheyenne’s side where she was struggling to breathe.

“Chey, are you okay?” I asked as I inspected the handprints on Cheyenne’s neck. Tears flooded from Cheyenne’s eyes as she looked at me. Grabbing my hand she coughed before saying, “Get me the hell outta here…”

***

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to… We can just go for a drive or something…” I suggested with a dark look in my eyes.

Cheyenne sat in continued silence in the dark of my truck. If anyone was sensitive to Cheyenne’s plight, it was me. While both of my parents were ripped from me in the grisliest of ways, I had a good home life when they were alive. Cheyenne, on the other hand, had a mother who still drew breath and a step father who stepped up to raise a child that wasn’t his own. On paper it looked great. In reality, it was a nightmare. Dave would rather use his fists to get a point across and Gina, she was in another solar system. Cheyenne was on her own. She had me and I had her and that’s all that matters.