Chapter Nine
My chest protested as I stirred, my body feeling heavy.
Heat is hovering over my burns. Shaking, I reach for my phone on my nightstand.
The titanium felt cool against my angry skin.
I start to scroll, as I do every morning.
A longing hits, making my thumb move across my screen before my brain registers what I’m doing.
Juni’s face fills my screen. My lungs feel cracked, but seeing her helps me to breathe a little easier.
The pressure in my chest loosens just by a fraction.
My throat is clogged. A lump forms that I can’t swallow, and my thumb starts rubbing her cheek on the screen like muscle memory.
I let my guard down and just let myself feel, just for a moment.
Her eyes are not as bright as they used to be, but still breathtakingly beautiful.
My longing for her has seemed to dull the fire racing across my skin.
Hands shaking, but not from the pain of my current state; it’s the sting of the realization.
Back then, she was just trying to love me, help me.
Protect me. But I didn't allow it. So consumed in the sudden, tragic loss of Isaiah. I lost so much more than just myself.
My mind goes back to her coming out of the emergency department.
She looked so scared. How did she get hurt?
I really hope that fucking prick didn’t cause her that injury.
I will end him if he ever puts a fucking finger on her.
She was always supposed to be mine. And I wish like fuck she would be again, maybe someday if I have any say in it.
Thoughts swarming, and against my better judgment…
I do something really fucking stupid. I swiped out of Facebook and moved to Snapchat.
My judgment and comprehension are apparently not in the fucking room with me…
I start typing her old contact name, then search for Juniper Davis, and she pops up.
I guess she hasn’t changed her number. I hit the add button without thinking…
I type out one single word. Just one, nothing overbearing.
Maybe it was? I don’t know… and fuck my life…
I’m an idiot. Oh, why do you ask? Because well… I just hit send.
See. Again, nothing crazy… just one word.
She hasn’t left my thoughts since last night, even in my current state, I don’t care about myself.
I want to make sure she’s okay… as… a… friend?
Yes. As a friend. She was there for me on the absolute worst day of my life.
I should at least try to repay her. Anyway, I can… if she will let me.
Making my way downstairs, I head in the direction of my attached garage.
Partially opening the door enough to squeeze my arm through, I hit the door opener, followed by remote starting my truck.
I fucking hate winter, though we don’t typically get a lot of snow per se; it's the storms that suck.
Wind and rain are a horrible combination on a bike…
even with my faring. I only own that truck because I need to.
As I get up into my truck, settling behind the wheel, I scroll through my playlist until I choose “Hold Me Now” by Caskets.
Rain starts dotting my windshield as soon as I pull out of my driveway.
Rainy days make work so much more miserable.
My least favorite thing, literally ever, is working on a car and getting misted on, only to stay cold all day.
I don’t know when I became such a miserable bastard, but it's not every day.
My skin still hurts, and moving is uncomfortable, but I don’t need to take any time off.
Every time I’m home and alone, all I can think about is one person.
While she's on my mind, I pull up Snapchat to see if she's responded. “Opened 2 hours ago.” I wish I could say that it didn’t hurt my feelings that she read my message and decided not to respond. But I also respect her. She is a married woman. I didn’t have ill intentions, but honestly, I don’t blame her.
I hurt her so badly… just to show up randomly six years later.
“Gavin! What the fuck are you doing here? I thought we all agreed you’d take the day off… You look like shit,” Brenden says, pissed.
“So… as I was heading into the ER last night to get patched up… guess who I literally ran into? Like arms wrapping around each other to prevent someone from falling…” I say, taking a sip of my white monster.
“How the fuck should I know? Oh wait! Was it uhhh ah! Wasn’t her name Emily or something… Kelly’s sister?” Brenden asks
Looking at him, puzzled… “Huh? Ohh…that’s right, Kelly’s twin sister… Rachel, not Emily. But um no. I hope I never see her again. I’m surprised after that horrible night she didn’t spread rumors all over town that I have a small dick or something,” I said with a laugh.
“Okay, then, who was it? Who did you see, Gavin?”
“Juni. She and I think her best friend. They were walking out of the entrance. Juni kind of seemed to be on some type of pain meds; she was spacing and didn’t even really react to us bumping into each other chest to chest, with my arms around her… she had a big cast on her left arm.”
“Oh shit, well I wasn’t expecting that. Sounds like she broke her wrist or something… or do you think someone did it to her?” Brenden asks.
“Nope. Don’t do that, I don’t need those thoughts in my head, because I swear to Christ if that stupid fuck ever hurts what’s mine, I’ll kill him. Snap his stupid fucking neck,” I say angrily.
“Whoa, calm down, Twinkles. Jesus Christ. I was fucking with you. But in all seriousness, I hope she's okay.”
“Speaking of that. I did something pretty fucking stupid.” I say sheepishly.
“What did you do now?” Brenden says with a blank face.
“Uhh… I added her back on Snapchat. And I sent her a message… saying ‘hey’,” I say, grabbing my phone and showing him the screen. “But she opened it two hours ago and nada,” I say, looking down at the ground.
“Well, Gavin, let’s have a voice of reason. She's married, dude. She was in love with you, and you tossed her out of your life like hot trash,“ he says with a shrug.
Before he can say another word, I grab him by the shoulder and slam him against the closed garage bay. “I love you like a brother, Brenden, but…Do. Not. Talk about her like you know what happened back then, you don’t. I will fucking deck you.” I say as I push off of him.
Brushing off his shoulder, his eyes shift when I look at him. “Fucking calm down, Gavin. Jesus. Go take your tampon out and get to fucking work,” he scoffs as he walks away.
Guilt creeps in as the day passes. Heading to our lunchroom, I spot Brenden hunched over eating his sandwich.
Slowly, I walk over and sit down. As I sit down, his eyes are already on me.
“Look, Brenden, I’m sorry for that shit earlier, I really am.
I have so much pent-up shit with her, and I never resolved it,” I say guiltily.
Brenden continues to chew slowly, “You don’t need to apologize, man,” he finally says. “I know better, you're not always a sensitive man. But you are when it comes to her.”
“Yeah, unfortunately, I guess I am. I hate it.” Staring at the concrete floor. My mind starts racing again. The truth is, I don’t know how to unpack any of this safely.
Some days, I hate when my breath gets stuck in my lungs every time I hear her name or see her beautiful face. Even years later. “I knew better, Brenden. It’s like I’m asking her to hurt me, in return for hurting her.” She really is my kryptonite.
”Man, I mean, yeah, of course. You knew better, but you had a connection with her. Even your therapist agreed it's a trauma bond. You can’t fight things that deep.”
Huffing out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess. I just need to know if she’s okay. I might have to take matters into my own hands. I don’t like the look in his eyes from the pictures.” I mutter more to myself.
“Just take care of yourself, yeah? I worry about you, Gavin.”
“Taking care of myself would include caring for her. I just can’t explain it without sounding fucking crazy. Coming off as a fucking lunatic of an ex that broke up with her and turned into this overly protective, jealous man. I would burn the world to the ground just to keep her warm.”
Brenden goes to speak, but gets cut off.
Feeling my phone vibrate, I pull it out of my back pocket.
Holding my breath as hope starts to creep in.
And, nothing, well not nothing. A group chat messenger from a bunch of guys I ride with, talking about doing a charity run this weekend.
Is this going to fucking happen every time my phone goes off? I might actually break it.
We both silently stand and head back to the bay, even with the stabs of pain from my angry, tight skin.
As I work, nothing prevents my thoughts from going to Juni.
She looked so small. The word fragile never came to mind with Juni.
She was always a badass… ready for anything coming her way.
I keep thinking about her cast, the way she looked smaller than usual somehow, almost scared in a way I’d never seen before.
I keep telling myself it’s not my business anymore.
Hasn’t been for a long time, knowing that doesn’t stop the images my mind keeps portraying.
By the end of the day, I’m in so much pain I just want to go the fuck home.
Of course it's still fucking raining. At this point, it matches my mood, gloomy and miserable. Getting into my truck. I check Snapchat one more time, even though I already know what it’s going to say.
Opened 10 hours ago. In more ways than one, I asked for this.
I’ve regretted it every fucking day. This is what I deserve.
I pushed her away. I didn’t want her to see a shell of the man grief has created out of me.
To save my head. I need to do this. She’s not going to respond.
I know she won't. Let it the fuck go, Gavin.
I start my engine, my playlist automatically playing, drowning out the noise of my thoughts for the time being. Music is one of my only escapes. That and I sometimes read a book. No one knows that about me. It’s something I keep to myself.