Bitter Root (30 page)

“Stop. You’re wrong. Just stop.”

“Why? Is the truth so painful you can’t even hear it? Oh, wait,
that’s right, you run from the truth.”

“Damn you, Griffith. Stop.”

“Adi, the truth is you ran from something in your life when you
were just a kid. You left behind everything and everyone you ever knew, and
probably for damn good reasons. Now you want to do it again, but this time it’s
different. This time those you leave behind won’t be left, and you’re an adult,
not a kid. We can keep trying to find you, and we’re not heartless and
indifferent to your pain. This is your new truth. Get used to it. We care. We
love you. T’Claude loves you. Bertie loved you. I love you. Can you get that
through your head? Break through those walls and let it sit in your heart? We
love you. You’re not alone, and we can help.”

Griffith watched as the words affected Adi. She seemed to pull
herself in and started to slip down the alley wall. Griffith reached out and
caught her, pulling her into her embrace. T’Claude came from behind and wrapped
his arms around them both.

“She’s right, Adi. We aren’t going to let you run away from our
lives. If you want to leave us, you’re going to have to tell us to our faces.
I, for one, won’t settle for a kiss-off. You are going to have me in your life
for as long as forever. The distance between us might be big, but we’re always
going to be family,” he said.

Adi didn’t respond with words, but she held them both as though
to keep from drowning, and Griffith took that as a good sign. It didn’t matter
anyway; she wasn’t going anywhere until this was truly over, and then, only if
Adi said there was truly nothing between them.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here,” T’Claude said. He led them out
of the narrow alley and into the mass of moving bodies that was the French
Quarter. They walked down Dumaine, with Adi sandwiched between them. When they
reached Bourbon Street, they turned and walked to Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop.

It was dark, only candles lighting the place. They sat at a table
away from the piano so they could talk without interruption. Griffith ordered a
bottle of wine, figuring they could all use some. Adi was quiet, and the look
of fear was gone, but she seemed deflated.

“Adi, you know I love you, kid. You have to tell us once and for
all what it is in your past that has you so messed up. We can’t help you if you
don’t share with us,” T’Claude said.

Adi looked from one to the other of them, her lips quivering and
her eyes bright with unshed tears. Still, she remained silent.

“We aren’t going to let this go. You have to tell us,” Griffith
said.

The waitress arrived with the wine and poured for the table. Adi
grabbed her glass and drained it in one gulp.

“That’s no way to treat a good wine,” T said, “You didn’t even
taste it. Slow down.”

Griffith poured her a second glass.
Maybe she needs the courage this will give her.
Anything that helps.
“Please tell us, Adi,” she said.

Finally she spoke, her voice a child’s whisper. “I…it’s hard.”

“Okay, take it as slow as you need to, but just talk to us,”
Griffith said.

“I was eleven when it all started. He…J.B., he made me do it. I
didn’t know what he was doing. I didn’t mean it.”

“What? What did he make you do?” Griffith asked.

“Kill Ransom. I didn’t mean to, T. I didn’t, I swear.”

“Kill Ransom? You mean he made you kill someone?” T’Claude said.

“He put the gun in my hand. He squeezed it, his finger over
mine…”

“That’s not your fault. He forced you, Adi. You aren’t to blame,”
said Griffith.

“I’ll force him, that bastard. How could he do that to you? You
were just a kid,” he said. “How do you know he was even dead? This Ransom guy?”

“He had to be. There was so much blood.”

“Blood don’t mean much. We got a ton of blood in us, kid. How do
you know he was dead? Did this J.B. call an ambulance? Did someone tell you he
was gone?” he said.

“No, I mean, I don’t know. There was no ambulance. J.B. took him
off in his skiff, said he was going to dump him in the marsh. I don’t know
where he took him. He just gave me bleach and told me to clean the place up.”

“So there’s no proof this Ransom was dead. It’s possible he took
him somewhere for help. But why? Why did he make you shoot this man?” Griffith
said.

“The business. That’s why. He told me Ransom was trying to cheat
him. He said he was proud of me for taking him out. It made me sick.”

“What business, kid?” T’Claude asked.

“Drugs. Drug trafficking, I think, but I don’t know for sure. He
showed me a baggie of this crystal stuff and told me all we had to do was get
it from the shrimpers and pass it on through the shop. I never wanted to know
more. It was evil.”

“You said you were eleven when this happened, but you didn’t
leave until you were fourteen Why?” Griffith said.

“I couldn’t. I didn’t know how. From the minute that gun went
off, all I could think about was running away. I tried to run that night, but
the sheriff found me and brought me home after a couple of hours. J.B. watched
me all the time after that. And then…then he made me go out with him all the
time. To the marshes, to dump bodies. And I had to wash down the room every
time he put a beating on someone. Life became…hell. The deepest, darkest hell.
And I knew it wouldn’t be long before he took me out to the marshes and left me
there too. It took years to be sure I could get away and he wouldn’t find me.”

“None of this is your fault. You don’t have anything to be afraid
of, Adi,” Griffith said.

“You can’t know that. You don’t know him. He won’t stop if he
finds out where I am. That’s why I had to run. He will destroy everything I
love, to make sure I don’t tell what I know. And I was an accessory, wasn’t I?
That means jail time, right?”

“We won’t let him get to you,” T’Claude said.

“No, we won’t,” Griffith said.

Adi looked at T’Claude, then at her. She finally let go of the
tears she had been holding back. Griffith wasn’t sure if they were from fear,
relief, or just anxiety, but she was glad to see Adi let them go.

She moved closer and put an arm around her. T did the same from
the opposite side. Griffith did all she could to send comfort to Adi, hoping
the strength of her feelings were coming through the gentle hug.
You mean so much to me. Feel me;
know that I’m here for you. Let me prove you can trust me. Please.

Adi wiped the tears from her face, and for the first time in such
a long time, Griffith saw her beautiful smile. It was like the sun coming from
behind a cloud and it warmed every inch of her.

“Let’s get out of here. I bet you haven’t had a good night’s
sleep since Bertie,” she said.

Adi nodded. They headed back to the Hilton, and T’Claude walked
them to Griffith’s door.

“Okay now, you get some sleep. I’m just across the hall if this
one won’t stop nagging ya,” he said.

“Okay, T,” Adi said.

“Seriously, don’t even think about leaving. I mean it.”

“I won’t,” she said.

Griffith opened the door and they went into the darkened room.
Adi was at her side, and she was determined not to let that change.

Adi stopped just inside the room and stared at the
king-sized bed.
Now what?
This is awkward.

“You go get freshened up. I have a T-shirt you can use to sleep
in. I’ll sleep on the couch,” Griffith said. “Here.”

She tossed an oversized shirt to her. It was green with a
Victorian styled man and woman on it and the slogan, “Absinthe, double the
vision, double the fun.”

“This is an awesome shirt,” she said.

“Yeah, I thought so. It should work as a night shirt, huh?”

Adi kicked off her shoes. “Sure. I’ll be out in a second.”

When the latch clicked on the bathroom door, it was like all the
wind went out of her.
I
don’t know how to feel. I’m hollow.
She stared at her reflection in
the mirror.
Who are you?
How are you supposed to move forward? Why can’t you feel anything?
The longer she looked, the angrier with herself she became.
You are nothing. You have no
anchor. You’re just going to drift away. Those people out there, they could die
because of you.
She grabbed a bottle from the counter and threw it
at the mirror as hard as she could. The plastic top popped and lotion
splattered across the clean surface.

“Adi? You okay in there?”

She watched the slow ooze of the cream down the mirrored glass.
That lotion feels more than you
do.

The door handle rattled and a hurried knock sounded. “Open the
door. You’re scaring me.”

Adi looked at the door handle. She watched her hand move to
unlock it, though she didn’t understand how that was happening. She didn’t feel
connected to its movement. Then Griffith was there. She was holding her
shoulders, saying something.
I
can’t hear you. What are you saying? Why are you here?

Suddenly the hard, cold surface of the tub rim was under her.
Am I falling? No, not falling.
Griffith had pushed her down to sit. She was kneeling in front of her, holding
her and talking.

Her words were starting to make sense.
Focus. She’s talking to you.

“Adi? Can you hear me? Are you okay? I’m going to call for help.
Just hang on,” she said.

“No, no. I’m okay. Don’t leave me. Please,” she said.

“I’m not going to leave you. I’m just worried about you.”

“I’m okay. Would you hold me?”

Adi felt, really felt, Griffith’s arms come around her. The empty
hollowness drained away as warmth filled her. Griffith helped her up and out to
the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed, but Griffith didn’t stop. She
climbed onto the surface of the bed and drew Adi down beside her.

“I will always hold you. Always.” She wrapped both arms around
her and did just that.

It felt so real, so good, being held this way. Adi was swept away
by emotion and felt tears again on her cheeks.
These are different. These are healthy tears.
She let them flow,
down her cheek, onto her neck and into her mouth. The tang of salt woke up her
taste buds, letting her know she was alive. This was real.

Griffith moved her hand, light and tender, wiping away the tears,
but said nothing, letting Adi feel. Her hand moved to her hair, gently running
through the strands.
God.
That feels so good. That feels like heaven. Like I matter.
She knew
instinctively that this was what she needed. Nothing more, nothing less. Just
this moment, right here with Griffith. With the soothing play of Griffith’s
fingers through her hair, she let herself fall asleep.

Burning,
something was on fire. The heat was centered on her hand and the gun she held.
“You done a good thing here. She was worthless and had to go. I’m proud of you,
baby. Nobody cheats a Nerbass and lives to tell about it. Right?” Her? What?
Not Ransom. Griffith! Her blood-soaked body a crumpled heap at her feet. She
had to stop the bleeding. Save her. A hand gripped hers, pulling Adi away from
her. Stop. I have to help her. She struggled against the grip, desperate to
break away. “Adi, come on, it’s okay. Wake up…”

“Wake up. You’re safe.”

The panic melted away as Adi realized it had been a dream. She
was lying beside Griffith in the hotel room. “Griffith,” she said. She
frantically ran her hands up and down Griffith’s body, looking for injury.

“Hey, everything is fine. You were just dreaming.”

“I shot you. He made me shoot you.”

“I’m fine. It’s okay. No one shot me. He can’t make you do
anything anymore.”

Adi pulled Griffith against her, the scent of jasmine replacing
the smell of the gun smoke. The soft pressure of her breasts against her
replacing the heavy feel of the gun. She needed her. Had to have her and the
reality of Griffith removing the nightmare of her past. She kissed her then,
hard. Almost too hard. Griffith pushed against her.

“Wait. Slow down.”

In response, she kissed her again, but this time slower and with
less urgency. It was like a slow wave of heat, like the sun warming her skin
after a swim. It grew and grew, until it had a life of its own. And Griffith
was kissing her back, her heat entwining with Adi’s, becoming one entity.

And then the heat was overwhelming and Adi had to get out of the
confining clothes that trapped it and kept it burning against her. And Griffith
was stripping too. And her skin was like the softest silk against her fevered
flesh. The press of her body ignited a different heat, deeper. And then
Griffith’s hand was against her, between her legs and moving, sliding through
her wetness, inside her. Filling her. And she was crying out, breaking, gone.
But Griffith was with her, catching her, cradling her, and bringing her back to
earth and holding her, always holding her.

*

The persistent buzzing of a cell phone woke her some time later.
Griffith rolled away and grabbed it. Half asleep, Adi watched her scroll
through an email. When Griffith rose from the bed and moved to a chair, she
forced herself to awareness.

“What is it?” she asked.

Griffith smiled and walked back to her. She leaned down and
kissed her, and the brush of her nipples against Adi’s caused a rush of heat.
“Mmmm. That’s nice. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For, you know, for what we shared.”

The smile turned into a grin and Griffith poked her ribs
teasingly. “You mean for the sex? Huh? Is that what you mean?”

Adi knew she was bright red with embarrassment. “Yeah. That.”

“No reason to thank me. You started that. I should thank you,”
Griffith said.

“You know what I’m trying to say.”

“Yeah. I do. It was pretty amazing.”

“Yeah?” Adi said. She wanted to hear it, to know it had been
special for Griffith too. She wanted desperately to know she wasn’t alone. In
this, or anything else.