CHAPTER 18
When we reach the bikers’ place, I park the car and rush outside. But, before I can reach Dominick, Wagner grabs me by the hand. I turn to him, my heart beating wildly. I’m about to push him away for trying to prevent me from seeing my son, but I realize that’s not what he wants.
“Come,” he tells me.
He lets go of my elbow, and I follow closely behind. We start hearing voices, coming from the back of the house. Wagner is in front of me, his body leading the way. His shoulders are broad, a towering monument of manhood. He reminds me of a falcon, with his wings spread wide open, gliding through the air, becoming one with the universe around him.
I envy the falcon. I envy Wagner. And, Mason. And, Adrian. They found what they were looking for. One another. They created a safe haven for themselves, from all those who are different, who want to hurt them. They protect one another. They are brothers, if not by blood, then by mere desire to keep one another safe, at all cost. I am yet to find that. And, from the looks of it, I’m not doing a damn good job of it.
The voices are growing louder. It’s laughter. I hear a boy’s laughter, and I recognize it immediately. How could I not? That is the voice that has kept me up at night, from the moment they put him in my arms. He is laughing. I hear merriment and amusement. Is it possible that he is safe, that I’ve created all of this in my mind, out of nothing?
Wagner presses his index finger against his lips. I join him, and the view behind the house opens up before us. Whatever bad thing I thought they were doing there, comes crashing down. I see my son, a huge smile on his face, with a paintbrush in his hand. He is dipping it into the paint. Adrian is standing next to him. He is showing him proper brush strokes. Mason and another guy are standing next to them. They are all covered with paint splatter, as if they’d been throwing paint at one another. The wall also suffered some of it. They are shouting and chuckling. Cracking up.
Wagner isn’t holding me any longer, but I have no desire to walk over to them. Dominick hasn’t seen me yet, so I take a few steps back and hide behind the wall. Wagner follows.
“You see?” he tells me. “Your son is safe with us. Safer than anywhere else. Trust me.”
I sigh. Maybe he’s right. But, we can’t stay here forever.
“Why don’t we have some coffee, and you can tell me all about it?”
He takes me to one of the nearby houses, and opens the door for me. I almost gasp when I walk inside. It looks nothing like the outside. It’s a miniature home. All comfy and cozy. I see a slightly worn out carpet underneath my feet. The curtains are bright, pulled to the side. The windows are sparkling clean. We walk over to the kitchen. It reminds me of a country kitchen, all wooden and rustic, with yellow, sunny elements that make you never want to leave this room.
“I love this place,” I say, as I turn around, soaking up the view.
“Everyone does,” Wagner chuckles. “It’s all Violet’s doing.”
“Violet?” I wonder.
The mention of a woman’s name awakens the green eyed monster in me. I’ve never been a jealous person. Hell, I promised myself I’ll never be a jealous person. What’s mine is mine and no one else’s. The words bring back a shudder of a time past, and I close my eyes for a moment, trying to make the oncoming tidal wave of horrible memories go away.
“Mason’s sister,” he explains. “She’s one of those, whaddya call ‘em, interior decorators. She lives in the city. But, comes here for a visit every once in a while, with her family. It’s nice to have a place for guests to stay.”
“It is,” I nod, smiling.
I’m still overwhelmed by the feeling of home that this place evokes in me. A safe haven.
He whips up a cup of coffee quickly, and soon after, I’m holding a soothing cup of liquid courage in my hands. I’ve stopped trembling. That in itself is a small victory. But, I’m not counting the battles I’ve won. Not until I win the war.
“So, you wanna tell me now?” he asks, as he sits across from me.
I glance over to my side. There is a vase with fresh forest flowers. A nice touch. She must have been here recently, Mason’s sister. I can’t help but think how this is the kitchen I’ve always wanted for myself. A little housewife. The image of me staying here with Dominick permeates my mind. I can see it clearly. We could stay here. I could cook some nice food. Clean. Wash up. I’d feel safe here. I would know I was safe.
The deep gaze of Wagner’s eyes brings me back to reality. He reaches over the table and places his hands on mine. He is smiling. I want to smile, too, but the very knowledge that I need to open the doors which I’ve been keeping closed desperately, makes me want to cry. Still, he deserves to know. Mason and Adrian do, too.
“I was married once,” I start, slowly, painfully, hoping that once I get the story rolling I will just lose myself in it and it won’t hurt as much. “Technically, I’m still married. My husband, Dominick’s father, is a horrible human being. I honestly don’t know how else to explain it. He has hurt us more times than I can remember, promising that every time was the last. That he would change. He would look me in the eyes, just like you are doing now, and he would lie, without blinking. That’s how horrible he is,” I say all this in one go, breathless. It takes me a moment or two to regain composure, and continue. “The last time he raised his hands to me was the time he sent me to the hospital. He sent us both to the hospital, Dominick and me. That’s when I knew that it’s not only me. He won’t refrain from hurting Dominick, just to hurt me more. So, while I was in hospital, I spoke to the police. I told them everything that happened. They helped us hide in a shelter for battered women.”
I lower my head and close my eyes. I still remember that house. Those women who, like me, had nowhere else to go. So, they wandered those hallways aimlessly, while their little kids were safely asleep in their assigned beds. Because, they themselves couldn’t sleep. How can you sleep when you know that only one single, flimsy door is what stands between you and certain death? But, I don’t say any of this. It doesn’t matter to my story.
“We stayed in the shelter exactly 47 days. That’s how long it took them to put my husband behind bars. It’s actually much faster than many other similar cases, which get dragged into infinity. So, I’m not complaining.”
At this point, my hands start to tremble. My fingers feel the itch for that good old familiar sensation of a cigarette between them. Wagner recognizes it. Only another smoker could.
He reaches into his jacket pocket and extracts a half empty box of Lucky’s. I grab at one, desperate for that soothing poison to fill my lungs again. I put it between my lips, dry and cracked, as I see Wagner light it up. I inhale deeply, like it’s the last breath I’ll ever take, so I better make it count. I hold it in for a moment, then exhale, wheezing loudly. I put my fingers on the table. They’re light as air. There is no trembling. Only heaviness that will never go away.
“He got 3 years. Three measly years for the life of trauma that he has caused. Can you imagine?” I take another puff, coughing it out this time. I need to take it easy. My lungs forgot the feeling. “The last time I saw him, he made a promise to me. A promise that he will find me no matter where I go, and he will finish what he started.”
Wagner gets up to bring me an ashtray, and I extinguish the leftover half of my cigarette. I watch closely as the fire burns out, turning to nothingness.
“I’ve been checking his prison records. You can check online to see if an inmate is out earlier or not. I haven’t checked last month. I’ve been checking all this time, ritualistically, but not last month. Is it possible that he got out without me noticing?”
“Do you want to check now?” Wagner asks me.
“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “If I see that he’s out, I’ll lose my mind.”
“Is living in ignorance better?”
“It’s easier.”
“You think he sent you the letter?” he wonders.
“Who else could it be?” I whimper, feeling all courage leak out of me.
“Do you like living here in Swallow Springs?” he suddenly asks me.
“I… I do,” I nod.
He gets up and walks around the table. He helps me get up, and holds my hands in his.
“Then, you can’t let anyone run you out of your home.”
His words almost make me cry, but before a single tear manages to escape my eyes, I feel his lips against mine. Soft, tender, hopeful.
“Hey, W. you need to - “
We are both interrupted by a voice that belongs to someone who also makes my heart go aflutter. I pull away from Wagner, wiping the corner of my lips. I blush wildly, looking at my feet, so I almost miss seeing the wide grin on Mason’s face.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Mason lifts his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. “But, Guns needs you. His exhaust pipe isn’t working right.”
I see Wagner nod at me, as his fingers caress the side of my cheek, then he leaves me alone with Mason. We both hear the front door open, then close. I wonder how come I didn’t hear it before. Probably because I was too busy kissing Wagner.
“I’m sorry, I…” I start.
“What are you sorry for?” Mason wonders, looking puzzled.
“We just…”
“Kissed?” Mason ends my sentence, chuckling sweetly. “Is that what you’re apologizing for?”
“Well...” I feel so confused, like a school girl talking to her long time crush.
“Oh,” he suddenly nods, “you think because we kissed, I’d be upset with you?”
“Um, you aren’t?”
I swallow heavily. What kind of a game is he playing?
“Not one bit. I sometimes forget you’re just human.”
“Just human?” I take offense at this, but I try not to show it. It shows. My cheeks reveal it all too plainly.
“Don’t take it as an insult, darling,” he laughs heartily. “Humans are still enforcing monogamy onto each other. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with that, if both parties agree. Usually, only one party agrees, and the other wants to explore more.”
“So, you like to be free to fool around?” I snort, still offended.
“Fool around? Absolutely not,” he shakes his head fervently. “I think you’re missing my point completely.”
“Then, do explain,” I snort again.
“Alright,” he is still chuckling softly. “I’m not talking about fooling around, as you called it. I’m talking about polygamy, as opposed to monogamy. It’s non-constraining, allowing you to be with other people at the same time, loving them all equally, and no one feels like they are being cheated on.”
Somewhere deep down, my heart reacts wildly to his words. This is what I want. Unable to make a decision between these three men, these three shifters who all seem to fill a different void in me, wouldn’t it be the best decision just to be with all of them at the same time, loving them, sharing my all with them?
But, that’s not right. That’s not what I’ve been taught. What would others think of me?
“You’re having a battle of morals, aren’t you?” Mason winks at me.
“What do you mean?” I ask, but I know well what he’s referring to.
“You were taught to only love one person. All humans are taught this. Some of you figure it out on your own that it’s perfectly alright to love more people, as long as everyone knows exactly what’s going on.”
I blush even more hearing his words. He’s right. That is exactly how I’m feeling.
He walks over to me, cupping my chin with the tips of his fingers.
“So, don’t worry,” he smiles. “If you were mine, I would love you, but you would be free to be who you want to be. No restraints.”
With those words, he kisses me passionately, my lips parting, our tongue twirling, dancing. My fingers clutch at him, desperately. I never want him to let go. I never want to let go. We kiss for what seems to be a small eternity, when his hands suddenly pull away.
“If we keep this up, I can’t promise to stop,” he tells me.
I don’t want him to stop. Ever. But, instead of saying this, I just nod. He’s right. This isn’t the time or the place.
“Let’s see what Dom and Adrian are up to,” I hear him say, and I rush to follow him outside.