Chapter 6
Star
“Scott man, you made it!” A guy is waiting to greet us as soon as the gearshift is in park and our shoes crunch against the gravel at his cousin’s house. Although I’m not sure if where we are at can be called a house. This place looks like an old bar.
When he told me where we were going, it piqued my curiosity.
The only person I’ve met from his family is his mom; never met any other family member.
But I thought he meant an actual house with people living inside.
Maybe a nicer double-wide with a fenced-in yard, and a dog running around in the back.
Not a place where the sequel to a Roadhouse film could take place.
Rusty wires are crisscrossing over one another, making tiny metal square patterns that lie over the glass panes of the windows.
Countless motorcycles of every color and size take up the biggest part of the parking lot.
A handful of men wearing black leather vests on top of their costumes stand beneath the yellow glow of the light above them.
The tallest one lights a cigarette and belts out a huge plume of smoke as he howls with laughter, watching a clown puke up his guts into the middle of the bushes.
“I’m going to stay here with Rizzo, you go ahead and get a feel for the place,” Scott tells me almost as soon as we’re inside, nodding to the guy who greeted us.
“Rizzo’s the name, and…” he pauses, shifting his gaze toward Scott and then rapidly back to my face.
He abruptly clears his throat, and I arch an eyebrow in response.
What’s going on? Is he choking on air? I watch him cautiously for a moment.
His breathing seems fine, and he’s not smacking his chest with his palm like a person would as they try to dislodge something from their throat.
So, that’s a big fat no. He isn’t choking, he’s ok.
My eyes zip to where his has been, wondering if there is a reason for him doing this, or if I’m making something out of nothing.
Scott hasn’t said anything or even shown an iota of concern for his cousin.
I don’t know how close they are, but given we’re at his house, I find that odd for anyone.
Scott is clueless; his eyes are busy scanning across the room.
His sights zero in on a redhead in a skin-tight beer wench outfit that has her tits spilling out of the top.
Rizzo clears his throat louder this time, grinding his teeth together afterward, and then runs his hand through his long hair. Ah. There is a reason, Rizzo must be trying to get Scott’s attention, probably warning him that I see his ass being disrespectful and oggling her tits.
“So, uh, as I was saying, the name is Rizzo.”
“Star.”
He lifts my hand, kissing the back of it, and nods his head. “Enchanté.”
I smile purely out of courtesy for him. I try to ignore Scott gawking at the other girl, but this is getting embarrassing.
I widen my eyes, glaring at Scott briefly, then back to Rizzo.
I hope he isn’t as big of a dumbass as his cousin is and doesn’t say or do something out of pocket.
We just met, but my bullshit filter had already broken before we arrived.
I don’t think I can handle any more stress tonight.
Rizzo combs through his hair with his fingertips, gathering it into his hand, and then flips a pink hair tie off his wrist onto his ponytail. “Yeah, so, Star. You must be this idiot’s better half, huh? His words are soft at first and then grow louder toward the end of his statement.
This gets Scott’s attention. His focus darts off the redhead and onto my face quickly. He slyly smiles. He probably thinks I don’t notice where his eyes linger.
“You’re staying here, with Rizzo?” I repeat his words in a knowing tone, wondering if he’ll lie or be honest. My money is on the first choice.
“Yeah. Mmhmm. I am. Whatever you say.” He absentmindedly nods, looking past me and into the crowd.
I’m not an idiot. As soon as I’m out of sight, Scott will fly across this room and be shooting his shot with big boobs Magee.
I saw the way he watched her with his eyes full of hunger.
It’s the way he used to look at me, and back then, I lived for that feeling.
Now, I wouldn’t split a single kernel of corn with him or his hungry eyes.
They can both starve to death as far as it concerns me.
Though I know I should be, I’m not hurt.
There isn’t an ounce of jealousy in what I’m feeling right now.
Disgust and spite…those are different monsters altogether, and they’re surging through my body at an overwhelming pace.
I’m staring daggers at Scott, tapping my foot as I count how long it takes him to realize I’m onto him.
“Erm, like I asked. Are you the lucky lady marrying Scotty boy?” Rizzo asks in an uneven tone, taking his hair in his grasp again, twisting it into a bun, and securing it just above the nape of his neck. This guy's hands are in his hair a lot. Maybe it’s a nervous tic. Who knows?
“Yeah, no. I’m definitely not marrying Scott.” I admit without a hint of remorse.
“You aren’t?” They both say a beat out of time of it being in unison.
“Not now.
Not ever.
Not in a million years or another lifetime.”
Neither of them speak, but Scott chews on the inside of his cheek, irritation practically rolling off him. He’s trying to stay calm because we’re in public. I was right to wait and not break things off while we were alone in the car.
I shrug. My fingers curl around the engagement ring that I’ve worn for far too long, and I yank it over my knuckle so fast that my skin stings.
Using my left hand, I open Scott’s fingers, smacking the ring into his palm.
“So, no, to answer your question, I’m not marrying him.
I’m not anything to him; I’d rather spend the rest of my life behind bars for a crime I didn’t commit. ”
“C’mon, Star. Don’t be like that. Is this about the redhead? I wasn’t gonna do anything. I was just admiring her earrings.”
Lie.
“Unless earrings are a code word for tits, you’re full of shit.”
“I’m sorry, okay?”
Another lie.
“Stop!” I cut him off before another damned lie leaves his mouth.
“Just fucking stop, would you? This isn’t about her, it’s about the fact that you’re an inconsiderate, narcissistic asshole.
Oh, and add that on top of the fact that you have a microscopic cock, and you couldn’t give me an orgasm.
EVER! Get your shit out of my house and get the hell out of my life!
” I’m screaming by the end of my rant, and every set of eyes around us is on me.
“Star,” he repeats my name in a pitiful tone, and reaches his hand out to grab me.
A sadistic laugh boils out of me as blind rage rips apart every bit of rationality I have left. I swat his hand away and then ball my hands into fists. I lock my elbows in place and stiffen my arms at my sides to stop myself from shoving him on his ass.
His hand twitches like he’s about to swing at me. In the past, his hands always twitched before he hit me.
That is it! I cut loose on him. “Don’t you dare fucking touch me, Scott Black! I’ll rip your fingers off and feed ‘em to your cousin over there in biscuits and gravy!”
This is why I don’t talk when I’m mad. This is why it's better for me to stay still and collect my thoughts until I’ve calmed down. I sound like a freaking lunatic who has watched one too many serial-killer slasher flicks.
Rizzo’s mouth falls open in shock, and his eyes are as big as saucers. When I glance up, it’s clear everyone in this room thinks I’m insane. I don’t blame them, I do too. But, at this point, I may as well give them a show since I’m already standing in the spotlight.
Whipping my body around in the opposite direction, I grab the first drink I can get my hands on.
A shot.
My head slightly tips in appreciation of the girl dressed in a naughty firefighter outfit. After swiping the shot glass out of her grasp, I down the liquor in one gulp. It’s tequila. I hate the taste of tequila.
I fight the urge to gag as fire slides down my throat.
No one moves around me; I guess they’re waiting for the grand finale.
I bow and snap upright again, “That’s all, folks.
Thanks for watching the shitshow,” I announce, praying they’ll take the hint and go back to whatever they were doing before I lost my shit in front of everyone.
The room is quiet for a second longer until Rizzo opens his mouth. “You heard the lady, it’s over.” He backs me up, smacking his hands together.
“Thank you,” I mouth to him silently, and he nods. Maybe he isn’t as bad as his cousin. It sure seems like he’s a better person than Scott. Yet, if I’ve learned anything from being in a relationship with Scott, it’s not to trust a person based solely on a few interactions.
The first things you notice about a person are usually the things they want people to see, the best parts of them.
But, if you watch a person long enough, their actions will show you the ugly truths that their mouth refuses to acknowledge—the secrets that lie quietly within a person’s bones, not the parts a person proudly wears on the outside for the world to notice.
Once you’ve seen the rottenest pieces of a person’s soul, then you can decide if they’re trustworthy. Only after, and never before.
“Star, wait,” Scott begs in a pitiful voice, and I stare in his direction.
This man is either stupid or brave, I don’t know which.
I can’t take any more. I have to get out of here; it’s so unbearably hot in here.
I frantically search for somewhere to go that won’t require me to pass Scott to get to it.
An open doorway is at the other end of the room, and I stomp off toward it without another word.
The cool breeze gets stronger with each step that brings me closer to my freedom. When I reach the door, I close my eyes and finally breathe a sigh of relief.
It is over.
We are over.
The storm is over.
The night air pricks my skin, and a chill runs through my body.
I welcome it, shutting my eyelids as I stretch my arms at my sides, and fight the urge to lift them above my head as I twirl in a circle.
I told myself that if I was going out that I wanted it to be worth my time, never imagining I would be the chaotic halftime show for everyone else to watch. I don’t regret it.
Keeping my eyes closed, I lift my foot over the threshold and take a blind step into my new life. A life without toxicity sounds like a dream to me.
My face whacks against something hard, and a deep grunt rattles out of what I hit. My feet wobble beneath me from the impact, and something shoots around my waist, steadying me. I think it’s an arm, but if it is, it’s made of steel. It feels rock-hard behind my back.
I open one eye and then the other, looking down and then slowly let my focus drift upward. A white dress shirt stretches to the max over well-defined abs and is meticulously tucked into black slacks. Two black suspender straps pull tightly over delicious pecs, and a crisp white collar tops it off.
A pair of glowing green X’s stares down at me from a black wolf mask trimmed in neon green. The masked man tilts his head to the side but doesn’t speak or withdraw his arm.
Panic blasts inside my head. It’s the same mask Scott wore to the party, but this can’t be him. Can it?
“Scott? How in the…You were just back there,” I mumble and glance back to where I left him standing with Rizzo.
He’s not there.
Please no.
No, no, no. I just got away from him.
“Star, that isn’t me! Get away from him!” Scott yells from the bar, ripping off his mask for proof.
Without hesitation, I reach around the masked man holding me and pull my body closer to his, flipping Scott off with my other hand. “Good. Maybe he knows how to act like a human being and can get me off,” pops out of my mouth before I think about what I’m saying.
My masked man doesn’t say a word, but his body vibrates with silent laughter.
“I’ve got you, Astra.” He finally speaks, and I can almost feel defeat bursting through my newfound sense of peace.
I’m not her.”
“You sure?” he asks in a deep, throaty voice.
I shake my head. The way I see it is I have two options for tonight. I can either run toward the man in a mask I ran from or stay in the darkness with the other. Choice number two it shall be. I shrug. “I don’t think I am.”
“Maybe you aren’t who you think you are.” He released me, stepping into the darkness of the night, holding his hand out for me to grab.
His neon green eyes stand out from the inky blackness of the dark sky behind him. They cast a beam of green light over the wolf mask, almost as if warning me that he is a dangerous man.
I pause, chewing on my bottom lip before taking his hand.
This should terrify me. But I’m not scared.
My heart is galloping beneath my chest, but nothing that resembles fear has anything to do with it.
The thrill of finally living life without constantly looking over my shoulder makes me happy.
Thinking that this masked man wants me does something to me.
I don’t care if he calls me by the wrong name.
One of my darkest desires is in front of me, and just thinking about the possibilities intoxicates me.
If I take his hand to join him, I could die tonight. But the way I see it is, I was already dead when I woke up this morning. Sure, I had a blood pulsating through my body, but I’d checked out of this world a long before my eyelids opened.
Tonight, I feel alive and as if anything is possible. “Ya know what? Maybe you’re right.” I say in good spirits, placing my hand into his, and go into the darkness chasing a wild dream.