Copperback (23 page)

“I
think you liked that,” he said, attempting to hold back his laughter.

“I
did not. Please don’t ever make me do that again. It was awful.”

“It
worked. No one knew any better. You got scared for a moment when you thought I
was going to fall. I wish I could have seen your face.” He gave up on remaining
inconspicuous, and burst out laughing. The thought of stopping the car again
and putting him in the trunk crossed my mind again, but for much different
reasons.

“You
know, if you keep eating junk food like that, you’re going to get fat.” I
replied, hoping to get back at him.

“No,
I won’t. I burn it off too fast. Same as taking anything for pain. It would
have been out of my system before it had a chance to work.”

“Great.
I’m going to be overweight and saggy one day, and you’re still going to look
like a model. That just makes me feel so much better. Can’t wait.”

“I’ll
still love you.”

He
said it before I could react. I felt my face begin to flush, and the steering
wheel slipped in my hands. The moment had come, and he was waiting for my
answer. An answer I wasn’t ready to give.

“You
don’t have to say it, you know. I’ve had a couple weeks to work on it. You’ve
only had a couple of days.” He covered his tracks quickly, picking up on my overloaded
nerves.

I
couldn’t say anything. Looking at him, I could see the love in his eyes – the passion
and head-over-heels look. His eyes burned with it. His stare was making it hard
to concentrate. I wanted to gaze back – forget the road, and tell him.

I
had been looking at him too long. Directing my gaze back to the highway, I managed
to swerve just in time before running us off the side of the road into a ditch.
My heart was pounding from the near accident – keeping me focused on looking
down the hood instead of at him. As soon as the tension let up, I could feel my
muscles aching from being locked in position for so long. The coffee that I had
gulped down had no effect on my clouded mind. I finally gave into the yawn that
had been building. The light was fading fast, and soon we would have the cover
of dark again.

“You
should just stop for the night. You look like you’re going to fall over.”

“No,”
I said, yawning again, “I can go a little more.”

I
was determined to go as far as possible in one day. The more time we spent
travelling during the day, the faster we would reach safety. I was afraid to
look over, in case the car began to wander again.

“Please,
just stop. You need some rest. You can’t push yourself like this.” I could hear
the anxiety in his voice, even if I couldn’t see him.

“You
did. You pushed too hard. I can go a couple more hours, and then I’ll stop.”

I
had lost track of how long I had been going. The black road was starting to
play tricks on my eyes, as I watched the yellow center line dashing past. I
turned on the radio for the first time since the start of our journey, hoping
it would keep me going. The air in the car was so inviting, making me want to
close my eyes. I could hear Job’s voice pleading, but it was too distant to
hear all the words. Sleep was taking over, and I had no choice but to give in.

I
could hear Job’s voice humming the tune of a song playing on the radio. The
melody was sweet and perfectly pitched – soothing, as it carried me away. His warm
body pressed against mine. I could feel his hand across my face. I didn’t want
to open my eyes. The comfort of him being close felt like a dream....

I
sat upright in a panic, my breathing out of control. The last I remembered was
driving. I had to have wrecked the car, but I looked around to see a cheap
dresser and table; the tacky floral print of a comforter; Job’s hand pushing me
back down on the bed I was laying on, before I hyperventilated. We were in a
motel room. How we got here was a mystery.

“I
– how did we…? What time is it?” The confusion was bothering me. By all
accounts, we shouldn’t be in this room.

“You
started to nod off, so I steered us into the next motel. I wasn’t sure if you
would hit the brake in time, but you did. I think you were sleepwalking when
you checked us in. You have been asleep for over a day. I called the front desk
and asked them to add another night. You had paid by that plastic thing in your
purse, so they didn’t question it.”

I
allowed myself to lie back again, feeling a little better that he had taken care
of everything while I was asleep. His soft hand stroked my hair away from my
face, running down my neck as he bent in closer, brushing his lips against
mine. I could feel the urge of wanting more from him, yet was still afraid to
stay near him for too long. I tried to turn my attention away from him, looking
down to the end of the bed, noticing, for the first time, that all the bags
from my trunk were neatly stacked on the dresser.

“How
did you get everything in? I thought you…”

“Oh
yeah – that.”

His
face, still close to mine, was coming into better focus as I lay there. There
was no heat – no waves of intense pain. Just him, calm as could be, hair still
wet from a recent shower, smelling of some soapy fragrance I couldn’t place.

He
slid off the bed, standing on one foot, balancing perfectly, as usual. Instead
of reaching for the crutches, he stepped forward gingerly, limping along the
side of the bed and turning back, to show he could bear weight again. As he
came closer, I could tell that the moment was bittersweet. The deep red scar still
ran across his side, and I could see his lower leg was permanently turned out
up to mid shin. The bump across the area of the fracture was diminished, but remained
there. He had lost the graceful gait I had witnessed the first time we met – the
limp, a standing reminder of the torture he had endured.

“Are
you always going to…”

“I
think so. It’s still sore from not using it, but I think I’m stuck with it.” His
mood stayed light, even as I had begun to get upset.

He
sat back on the bed, holding me close to him and kissing my head.

“Does
this mean you don’t want me anymore? Because I’m not, as you say, perfect?”

“No
– no. I just had hoped that – it’s just not fair.”

I
could feel my eyes water up.

“You
know, if I could go back and do it again, I wouldn’t change anything. It was
worth it. I have you. That’s all that matters to me.”

His
sweet words brought on the tears. It was too much. The price he paid to be with
me meant everything to him, but I still wanted to go back and change it. I
wanted the outcome to be the same, but not the circumstances to get there.

“Go
get cleaned up. I’ll get dinner ready. I’m sure you have to be hungry, after
the nap you took,” he said, wiping away the tears that had fallen on my cheeks.
Moving meant that I would be away from him, but he had already beaten me to it,
getting back off the bed and slowly making his way back to the dresser, pulling
out cans from the bag, studying the can opener and how to use it. He turned for
a moment, with a puzzled look on his face, as if to ask me how. He could see I
was about to start laughing and turned back, determined to figure it out on his
own. I could only shake my head, hoping that, when I got out of the shower, the
cans would not be torn to bits by the misuse of the device.

Taking
a clean set of clothes and cautiously looking the bathroom over before stepping
in the shower, I ran the hot water, letting it wake me up and prepare me for
the words I wanted to say. It was my chance to let him know how I felt. Let him
know he wasn’t the only one who had fallen in love.

I
kept the shower brief, and put on the clean clothes, feeling invigorated. He
had already changed into his fitted jeans and boots, leaving his rippled abs to
reflect the light, making me swoon. He had gathered two Styrofoam cups filled
with cold raviolis, holding one out for me.

“Mmm.
You really like these, don’t you?”

“Yeah.
I think I could eat them all day, if you let me. I prefer them hot, but I’ll
take it any way I can.”

He
scarfed them down, opened another can, and inhaled the contents just as fast.

“I
think you like them more than you like me,” I teased.

“Don’t
make me make that choice.”

After
our meal, he started to put his shirt back on, and I knew I had to be quick to
make my move, or I would chicken out again. I stopped him, tugging it back off
and moving in close to him. He didn’t hesitate, throwing it on the floor. I ran
my hands up his chest and across his shoulders, feeling his smooth skin under
my fingers. He leaned down, pressing his lips to mine, keeping them locked in
place. As I pressed harder, he resisted for a second, and then gave in. I
finally broke the contact, staring into his eyes, watching him stand there, stunned
at my aggressiveness. I could see that shyness creep back, worried I was going
to take it a step further then he was ready for.

“I
have to tell you something before I regret not saying it.”

I
bit my lip, trying to force the words to come out. I had never said it to
anyone past my family, and that was different. The courage was building inside
me, and the feeling of love was getting stronger.

“I–”

A
knock at the door interrupted us, breaking my chance to express my feelings. It
was getting annoying how, every time we tried to be close, we had someone or
something stop us.

“It’s
probably housekeeping again. I already had to shoo them away once today.” He went
to the door to take care of it.

“What
time is it?” A frightening thought came to mind. Working for an inn alerted me
that housekeeping didn’t make rounds twice if they had been told no already.

“I
don’t know. Late?” He had reached the door and was about to turn the knob.

“Stop!
Don’t answer it. It’s not housekeeping.” My panic was full blown.

He
shrank back from the door as another – more demanding – knock came. The person
was relentless, and I knew it was not a welcome visitor.

“Get
away from the door, please,” I begged, hoping he would listen.

He
did as I said, stepping back and in front of me, holding his hands behind him
as if to protect me from the danger at the door. I didn’t stay, instead walking
to the window and looking through the crack in the curtain to see who was so
insistent on pestering us. The shock hit me like a ton of bricks. I could feel
my legs get weak, as my hands started to shake. The new red truck sat outside
in the parking lot across from the room, its owner nowhere in sight. He was at
the door.

“Who
is it?” He could read the fear in my actions, even if he couldn’t feel it in my
heart.

“Derrick.
I don’t know how he found us.” I kept myself from stuttering out of fear. I had
to be strong. We were locked in the room, and he couldn’t stay out there
forever. He had to sleep sometime. He may give up, thinking he had the wrong
place. I knew it wouldn’t happen, though, and we would have to confront him.

Job
went for the door again, the anger burning on his face. He had changed his
stance, and appeared dominant and powerful, although the limp still made him
look weak in a way.

“You’re
not going out there,” I said. “He’s going to kill you, or you’re going to kill
him. I’m not going to let you.”

“I’m
not giving you a choice. I’m not letting him near you,” he said, enraged.

I
couldn’t live with the thought of having him give himself up for me. I was
willing to take the risk myself rather than to watch him be beaten to death by
Derrick’s hand. I had to think of a way to keep him from going out there.

“If
I go, he won’t hurt me. I can try to explain. He thinks he needs to protect me,
and the worst that will happen is he will try to make me go with him.”

“All
the more reason not to let you go.”

“I’m
not leaving with Derrick. If you beat him, we are going to be hunted, and you
will die. If you lose to him, you will die. You can’t win. If I go, we have a
chance.”

I
could see him trying to decide if I was being truthful, or making up a story to
save him. I pushed him away from the door. Instead of standing firm, he backed
away close to the bed, seething. His hands balled at his sides, head down. He
was about to plead again, but I wasn’t giving him a chance.

“Don’t
open the door, no matter what happens. I can’t – lose you.”

My
hand was hanging on the knob, ready to turn it. I needed him to look up at me.
I had to know he wouldn’t be foolish. He kept looking down.

“I
love you,” he said.

I
wanted to say it back, but if I did, he would fight me again, forcing his way
outside to keep Derrick from me. He would lose, and I would be without him – resigned
to go home empty handed and alone.

I
opened the door and stepped outside. It closed and locked itself behind me,
keeping Job safe behind its protective barrier. Derrick backed away to let me
out, holding a bat in his hand, gripping it tightly, as if to strike. The odor
of alcohol on his breath was overwhelming, and I could see by his disheveled
appearance that he had been obviously sleeping in his truck, waiting for us to
come out on our own.

“Oh,
Emily, did he hurtchu?” he slurred. “Are you ok? I was sho wurried.” He grabbed
me, hugging tight, the smell of sweat and dirt filling my nostrils, forcing me
to push him away. “We havta go. Ya havta get in my truck. I don’t wantchu to
watch what I need ta do.”

He
grabbed my arm hard, pressing his fingers deep into my skin, dragging me to the
truck, thumping the bat along the pavement. Even if he hadn’t been so drunk, I
never wanted to go anywhere with him. I wrenched away, freeing my arm from his
grip and stopping from going any further.

“You’re
trashed, Derrick. I’m not getting in your truck with you. You are not driving
me anywhere. I am staying here.” I had already turned away, walking back to the
room.

His
hand reached back out, grabbing harder, yanking me back. I could feel my
shoulder nearly being pulled from the socket, almost making me cry out.

“He’s
a dizgusting Copperback. He ‘as ya brainwashed. Yer gettin’ in my truck and yer
gonna stay there.” His aggressiveness had multiplied ten-fold.

“I
love him.” The words fell out of my mouth before I could think about them.

He
turned around to look at me and stared in disbelief. I was in shock myself that
I had no problem telling him, but I couldn’t utter the words directly to Job.

“Yer
as sick as ‘im,” he hissed at me, spitting in my face.

He
stormed back to the door, raising the bat from his side, griping it tightly in
his hand. Using it like a battering ram, he began to pound the door with it,
letting the sound echo through the empty parking lot. I ran up behind him, pulling
at his shirt to get him to back off, avoiding the swinging bat. I was more
concerned for Job’s safety than my own. He needed to stay inside. I stopped
caring what Derrick would do to me, as long as he would listen and leave. I was
willing to go with him – drunk or not – if it meant he would stop.

“He’s
not going to come out!” I shouted. “I told him to stay. You’re not going to
hurt him ever again!”

I
wanted his focus on me and away from the door. It worked. His anger turned to
me as he lowered the bat to his side. He took a step toward me, yet I remained
as ready to fight him as ever, knowing I couldn’t win.

“Then
I’ll make ‘im.”

Before
I could react, he grabbed me by the hair, twisting it up in his fist, pulling
at my scalp. He forced my head down and thrust me in front of him like a
shield. The pain was unbearable as he entwined his hand further, ripping out
chunks of hair from my scalp. I held back the cry of pain, knowing Job wouldn’t
stay if he knew what was happening on the other side of the door. The tears
came, but my silence didn’t falter.

“I
have yer girlfriend!” Derrick taunted, shaking me as he spoke. “Ya better come out
and get ‘er before I kill ’er.”

I
fell to my knees, unable to stand, allowing him to pull harder. Fire ravaged my
scalp. I could hear a whimper starting in my throat, but I forced myself to
keep hushed. It didn’t matter. I watched as the door opened, and Job stepped
out, nostrils flaring. Even with the limp, he looked stronger than I had ever
seen him.

“Let
her go!” His words were violent. He wasn’t holding back any of the hate he had
in him.

I
felt Derrick release my hair as I was tossed aside like a doll, allowed to fall
to the ground. I couldn’t take my hands away from my head, feeling the wet,
sticky blood that had blossomed there. I stayed put, afraid to get in Job’s way
and accidently receive a blow meant for Derrick.

“Nice
ta shee ya alive. This time I’ll make shure to finish the job ‘fore I throw ya in
my truck.”

Job
continued to stand there, fists balled, unflinching. Derrick raised the bat,
preparing to deliver a full swing. I didn’t want to watch, yet my eyes were
glued to Job. The bat came around, yet Job did nothing. I waited for the crack
as his arm shattered from the speed, but it never came. There was a small
whoosh as his skin disintegrated where the bat made contact, allowing it to
pass through with ease, throwing Derrick stumbling backward. In his inebriated
state, he had failed to remember that aluminum was useless.

He
continued to swing, each time the bat missing the target, frustrating him more
and more. His futile swings became labored, and almost completely lacked any power
behind them. At last, Job reacted, his eyes still locked on his prey. The bat
came up again, and he stopped it with his hand – holding it tight, then tearing
it away from Derrick, and throwing it down. I listened to the clinking as it
bounced off the pavement and rolled away out of either one’s grasp.

Derrick,
still stunned by Job’s quick reflexes, resorted to his fists, swinging one at
his jaw. Once again, Job was too fast, and caught it in his hand, pushing back until
Derrick was forced to his knees. In one swift move, Job had pulled Derrick’s arm
around and behind his back, pulling up until it looked like his arm would snap
at any moment. It was Derrick’s turn to scream.

I
could see Job bend in low, telling him something in a hushed whisper, but I was
too far away to make out the words. He was going to torture him until he was
dead, payback for the way he had been treated – the way he had treated me. As
much as I desired to see Derrick suffer, I couldn’t allow him to be murdered in
a public parking lot where anyone could see. It would draw unwanted attention
and could lead to far more dire consequences than we had bargained for. There was
no doubt that we would be found.

“Job
– don’t.” It was the best I could muster as I stood up, still holding my
sensitive head.

He
took his eyes off Derrick long enough to see me struggling to regain my
composure. His features softened, but he held tight to him, refusing to break
the hold.

“You
can’t kill him. It’s not worth it. He’s pathetic, and I’m sure he will get what
he deserves one day. Just not now. We should just go.”

Job
was looking back and forth between us, deciding what to do. I had asked that he
let his revenge go, and release the man who had assaulted me.

Derrick,
in his incapacitated state, felt it was necessary to speak up. “Lemme go, and
I’ll just follow ya. I’ll bring the police, and they’ll kill ‘im for kidnappin’,
an’ if you resist, they’ll have ya locked away for life. Ya can’t win.” He was
laughing, even as Job put more pressure in his grip.

The
fury in me couldn’t be held back any longer. “You will do no such thing. That
knife you used to stab Job so you could beat him? I have it. I have it in a
very safe place. You so much as come near us or my family, and I will turn you
in and explain to your father how you tried to kill him, unprovoked. I’m sure he
will have a field day with you.”

Derrick
stopped laughing. His concern for himself outweighed even the thoughts of continuing
the pursuit. He gave in to the fact that he had played his last card, and was
still defeated. Job loosened his grip, letting him pull his arm back in front
of him and cradle it. Both of them stood up, backing away, never taking their eyes
off the other.

“If
this is whatchu want – don’t ever come back. Either one of ya. I won’t hesitate
nex’ time.”

His
threat was real. I would never be able to go home to see my family. Sally and
Chase would always be in my heart, but they would have to stay there. It was a
loss I would have to come to terms with in my own way. I was already halfway
there.

Derrick
moved a few steps away before breaking into a run to his truck. The headlights
came on, and he was gone. I waited till I couldn’t see his taillights in the
dark before turning back to Job. He was close by, looking me over – checking to
see what damage had been done. Even as tender as his hands were against my
head, I still flinched away from his touch, and as he pulled away, I saw blood
on his fingertips. He balled his fist, angry again, but with no one to take it
out on.

“You
told me he wouldn’t,” he said, disgusted.

“I
didn’t know.”

“I
never should have let you go out. I can’t watch you get hurt.”

His
disgust wasn’t going away. He reached out again, to hold me, but I pushed his
hand away, trying to make a point.

“I’m
going to get hurt, Job. I’m human. It happens. You can’t protect me every
time.”

“I
should. I…” He could tell he wasn’t going to win this argument. There were still
so many differences about us that he had to understand. He wanted to be my
protector and hold my hand every step of the way. I didn’t want to see him
ruminate over this any longer. The cloud of being followed had been lifted, and
we were free to leave.

“We
should go soon, just in case,” I said, changing the subject.

“Only
if I can drive. I don’t want to risk going off the road again,” he said, giving
a half-hearted smile. He was letting go of his anger slowly, making an effort
to bring his attention back to me.

“Deal.
Just let me clean the crap out of my hair. You can load everything back up.”

He
had already forgotten the “I love you” I was ready to say before we were
interrupted. I wanted to stop him and tell him, but, once again, it wasn’t the
right moment. He knew by now I was there for him, I had risked myself for him.
It would have to wait a while longer.

The
soapy water stung, turning pink, as I washed the blood out of my mane, along
with locks of hair that had been pulled out. I removed the large clump clogging
the drain, throwing it in the trash before Job could see how much I had lost,
sending him in a frenzy again. He was waiting at the door as I turned out the
light, ready to leave.

As
hard as he tried, Job managed to stall the car twice before getting the hang of
the clutch and how to shift gears. Both times, my laughter frustrated him
further, causing him to become more determined.

“I
thought after watching me the last two days, you would have this down.”

“I
just figured out how to walk. Now I’m doing something a little more complex.
You wanna give me a break here?” His humor had returned.

“Absolutely
not.”

Turning
onto the road, I could see the flash of gold sparkle in his eyes every time
oncoming traffic drove past, and he was forced to blink hard against the glare.
I opened the glove box and found a pair of sunglasses buried deep within the
clutter. They were far too feminine for him, but it was the best I could do on
short notice.