Different Roads (16 page)

"Yeah, my night's complete," I
said right before I tipped my head back and downed the shot. "Can we go
now?"

He motioned for the bartender to bring
us two more shots, "Nah, the night's just getting started," he
muttered. "What's your hurry?"

Over
the rest of the summer, I began to make up excuses so I didn't have to spend all
my free time with Damon, or I would try to think up ways for us to be around
other people whenever we were together. Each time he yanked my hair or jabbed a
fist into my ribs or kicked me in my back, I swore it would be the last time.

            Anyone
who's ever been in an abusive relationship knows that it's not always as simple
as just walking away. Damon was a form of crack, and with my addictive
personality, it wasn't as easy as telling him I didn't want to see him anymore.

            One
afternoon, I was getting ready to head out to a hog roast to celebrate -- or
mourn -- the end of summer. I stepped out of the shower and was in the process
of winding a towel around my hair when Shelley shrieked at me, "What the
hell happened to your back?" She startled me so bad that a scream slipped
from my mouth. I was constantly on edge lately, and she'd scared the shit out
of me. I knew that she had caught a glimpse of the large bruises over my
kidneys.

            I
turned from her and felt my face heat up while I groped for some plausible sounding
excuse to give her, "I banged against the kitchen counter the other night
when I came home drunk. It's nothing," I lied and quickly turned away from
her scrutinizing eyes.

            Shelley
latched on to my wrist with an unrelenting grip, "Don't you dare try to
feed me a line of bullshit like that Jacqueline Carter!" she snapped.

            I
wrenched my hand free and glared at her, "I told you what happened. Now
drop it," I measured my words carefully, trying to make it clear that as
far as I was concerned, this discussion was over.

            Her
eyes narrowed into slits and she tipped her head while she thought about what
she wanted to say. Finally, she planted her fists on her hips and said,
"Of course. You're telling the truth. You know how I know you're telling me
the truth?" Before I could open my mouth to respond she rattled on:
"Because my friend Jaq would never let anybody lay a hand on her. Not even
once." With that, she swung around and stomped out of the room.

            Once
we got to the hog roast later, Shelley glued herself to my side and told the
guys to go do whatever it was that guys did and that she wanted to spend some
time alone with me. I honestly didn't mind. It was kind of like old times. Back
before Brad got killed and back when I still thought Damon was the sexiest guy
I'd ever seen. It was uncomplicated back then, when I still knew of Seth as the
Wild Turkey guy who wore boxers.

            Shelley
hopped up onto the tailgate of a pickup parked strategically between the fire
and the kegs and patted the cold steel beside her, "Sit," she
ordered. I scooted up next to her, and she produced a flask. She unscrewed the
lid, took a big swig, made a god-awful face, wiped her mouth and said,
"God I hate the taste of tequila," before passing the silver flask my
way.

            "Nectar
of the God's," I grinned before downing a big gulp.

            She
giggled and slapped me on the back, "I've missed this."

            "Me
too," I admitted.

            A
few more swigs of the booze later, Shelley turned to me, suddenly serious.
"How long has he been doing this to you Jaq?" she whispered.

            I
stared down at my feet and shrugged, "A little while, I guess. This one's
not that bad."

            Her
mouth dropped open, "You mean there've been worse?"

            I
took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, "He cracked three of my ribs
once," I said with no more emotion than if he'd just tickled me until I
pissed myself.

            "And
you're still with him? Why?" She asked. I didn't answer right away because
honestly, I didn't know why I was still with him. Nothing sounded even remotely
logical. "No more. You are so done with that crazy fuck. I mean it, Jaq.
This ends tonight."

            I
blinked a few times to keep from crying, "It's not that easy," I admitted
weakly.

            She
threw her arm over my shoulders and pulled me into a one-armed hug, "Love
you Jaq," she said and kissed me on top the head. "You deserve so
much better than this."

            I
closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, "How do you know?"

            She
drew back and gave me a puzzled look, "How do I know
what
?"

            "Seriously.
What if by some great design plan, this really is all I deserve?" I took
an unsteady breath and continued, "What if I drew the cosmic short-straw,
and this is as good as it gets?"

            Shelley's
eyebrows drew together, "That's just some psycho-babble bullshit and you
know it. Nobody deserves to become a punching bag from some crazy fucking
coward who's too afraid to pick on someone his own size."

            I
wrapped my arms around her neck and gave her a big squeeze. I closed my eyes
and let the unwelcome tears slide down my cheeks. We sat like that for a few
minutes when a warm, familiar voice asked, "What's a guy got to do to be
part of this sandwich?"

            Shelley
and I jumped apart and started laughing. I smiled up into, what were still, the
most gorgeous blue eyes ever, "Hey Seth," I managed to say.

            He
narrowed his eyes when he saw my face. He brushed his thumb slowly across my
cheek, "Hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

            "It's
nothing. I'm fine, really," I told him.

Shelley hopped down from the tailgate,
"I'm going to go get a beer," she glanced at the imaginary watch on
her wrist, and her gaze darted between Seth and me. "I'll be back in
ten
minutes
."

            He
laughed and shook his head, "Still the same ol' Shelley."

            "You
have no idea," I said with a grin.

            "Hey
where's my hug?" he ducked his head, and his blue eyes peeked out from the
bill of his cap. He opened his arms, and call me crazy, but I fell right into
them.

            Being
wrapped up in his arms brought back a flood of memories and I let them wash
over me while we stood. My inner slut was screaming at me to do him one last
time for fun and my inner saint was tugging me in a completely different
direction. Just as my inner personas were about to duke it out inside my head,
I heard Seth whisper, "Oh fuck," and he pulled away from me.

            I
yelped as a burning pain shot through my scalp and my head quickly snapped backwards.
Damon had latched onto my hair and was dragging me away. "You stupid
fucking bitch. I turn my head for two minutes and you're off trying to hook up
with your ex," he spun me around so we were face to face. His eyes were
filled with the terrifying rage I'd become so used to seeing. He pulled back
his hand and punched me in the jaw. My vision narrowed, and whoever coined the
phrase of seeing stars, got it right. My head connected with something sharp and
jagged on the ground, and my eyes grew wide as Damon drew back his leg to kick
me.

            That
kick never happened. He never got the chance.

            The
pain in my head was excruciating and I felt like it was inside a metal bucket,
the blood whooshed inside my ears and darkness quickly moved in to snatch away
my vision. I was out like a snuffed candle flame.

            When
I came to, Tim had carried me over and sat me down in the back seat of
Shelley's car. My head was bleeding, Shelley was screaming like a lunatic, and
Seth's knuckles were minus several layers of skin. My eyes darted frantically
around for Damon, and I don't know if I was worried that he was coming to hurt
me some more or scared that he wasn't.

            "Hold
this on the back of your head to try and slow down the bleeding while we get
you to Urgent Care for some stitches," Tim ordered.

            I
nodded, "Wh-where's Damon?"

            Shelley
patted my hand, "Seth took care of that sonofabitch. He's never going to
hurt you again Jaq."

            My
blood ran cold and I swallowed a few times, "Is he dead?"

            Tim
turned and looked over the seat at me, "No, he's alive. Unfortunately."

"How's
the head?" Shelley asked as she leaned against the door frame.

            I
wrinkled my nose and reached up to run my fingers gently over the staples they'd
used to close the nasty gash at the back of my head, "Give me a good old
fashioned hangover any day," I muttered, trying to downplay the whole
previous night's drama.

            Shelley
crossed the floor and sat down on the edge of my bed, "Damon's called your
cell about a hundred times already this morning," she breathed with a
detectable strain of irritation coloring her words.

            "Shocker,"
I groaned.

            She
nodded, "I was going to answer it the next time and tell him to fuck himself."

            I
flaked off some of the dried blood from beneath my fingernails onto the
comforter, "I kind of thought he would just go away after last night."

            "Yeah,
you see, that's just it. I don't think Damon's real big on taking hints,"
Shelley said. She leaned in close to inspect the hair matted against the back
of my head. "So the next time he calls?
You
need to tell him that
if he so much as even drives down this street, you're going to file a
restraining order against his ass."

            I
winced as she lightly touched the wound, and she jerked back as though she'd
been scalded. I whispered, "I need to let him know we're through, that I
don't want to see him anymore."

            Shelley's
eyes narrowed and she folded her arms in front of her, "Ya think?"

            "I
should tell him face to face. I owe him that much," I said.

            "
Excuse
me
? Tell me again why you think you owe that piece of no good dog shit
anything but a baseball bat upside the head?" Shelley said through clenched
teeth. "Listen to me Jaq:
You owe him nothing
."

            "He's
not really a bad guy. Not all the time. He just loses his temper sometimes when
I fuck up," I shrugged. "If I wouldn't have been talking to Seth last
night, he never would have lost it like he did."

            Shelley
let out a frustrated growl and pushed to her feet. She turned an icy glare on
me and pointed, "You listen to me, and you listen good. Because I am only
going to say this one time," she paused to make sure she had my undivided
attention. "You are not to blame for what he did to you last night or what
he's done to you in the past. This is
not your fault
Jaq."

            Counting
the cracks in the ceiling plaster to avoid her piercing eyes, "Okay,"
I said without much conviction.

            "Damon
Blackwell is lower than the bottom feeding carp in the Mississippi River and
you need to stay the hell away from him. You are not his, or anyone else's
punching bag," she cupped my chin in her hand, forcing me to make eye
contact with her. "Promise me you'll stay away from him? Because to be
honest with you I don't know what I might do to that prick if I ever see him again."

            I
blinked back the tears stinging the back of my eyes and bit my lower lip,
"Okay."

            "Okay
what?" Shelley prodded.

            "Okay,
I promise to stay away from him," I vowed.

            A
muffled
Love Bites
(Damon's ringtone) sounded from Shelley's pocket.
"Speak of the devil," she thrust the phone in my face. "This is
your chance to tell him."

            I
gave her an ugly look and grabbed for my phone, "Yeah?" I snapped.

            "Baby?"
Damon's familiar suck-up voice crooned. "Baby, I'm sorry. I just lost it
when I saw you talking to Seth last night. You know I didn't mean it Jaq. I
swear I'll never lay another hand on you again. I love you baby," he
paused. I assumed he was waiting for me to tell him it was okay. That
we
were okay. When I didn't say anything, he continued: "I know I'm a fuck up
Jaq. Just give me one more chance. Please?"

            He
was sobbing and unshed tears pooled in my eyes, threatening to spill down my
cheeks. I glanced at Shelley and the stony look on her face gave me the
strength I needed to finally speak. "Damon? Don't call me again. It's
over. We're through. No more. Got it?"

            "But
Jaq..." he started. My face crumpled and Shelley snatched the phone from
my shaking hand.

            "Blackwell?
This conversation is over. You and Jaq? Over. You come near her again and she's
going to file a restraining order on your ass. Do I make myself clear?"
Shelley carefully enunciated each word, as though speaking to a small child. 
"Goodbye asshat."