23. Riot
Riot
I blinked several times to understand what I was watching. It was a black-and-white video with a high vantage point, like from a security camera. And it was porn. Part of me wanted to snort a laugh. Some kid had inserted a skin flick as a joke to light a fire under these uptight ass-hats.
On the screen, a young womanwasstrappedto a bed while a tall man with dark hairhither with some kind of instrument. Heslappedher hard on the ass and the womancriedout.
All the oxygenleftmy body at the familiar cry.
No fucking way… The man flipped the woman over and moved aside. It was Nicolette, a bit younger, but it was most certainly her.
My heartstopped. My stomachclenchedand hot ragecoursedthrough my veins, lighting up every limb and every space inside my chest.
“Who did this?”Jeremy fucking Blackwellsaidover the loudspeaker.“I demand to know whoputthis in there. We do not treat our citizens this way!”
HepulledNicolette into him,holdingher head against his chest and I don’t know whatmademe angrier; the fact that Nicolettewasbeing publiclyhumiliated, or that Jeremywasactinglike a phony goddamn hero.
Hegraspedher face with both palms andwhisperedsomething.
Hestrokedher hair and Iwantedto pull him off stage so helandedon his ass of a face. He didn’t deserve to touch her hair.
“Turn it off! Someone turn it off!”heexclaimed heroically .
A bustle of peoplefumbledat the A/V booth. Katieputa hand on my chest.
“Ry, you can’t let her stay with you anymore.
You’re so close to earning a respected space back here.
You can’t be associated in any way with that woman.
Look at that!” Katie jerked a hand in the direction of the screen, which was still fucking running.
“That is despicable, and she’s never going to be accepted here.
I know you felt bad for her and it was generous to let her stay but she has to go.
Ry!” Her small hands shook me. “Riot, are you listening to me?”
But I wasn’t listening to her. I wasn’t listening to the horrified tsks in the crowd. And I sure as hell wasn’t focusing my attention on the screen.
No, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the hopeless expressionfrozenon Nicolette’s face. The round little o thatformedon her lips. Her eyeswerelarge, unfocused,pointingto some undetermined spot in the distance.
My chestconstricted. Her heart visiblyshatteredbefore my eyes and I would rip my own heart out to stop hersufferingright now.
My body coiled. Every muscle tightened. An eternity passed before the video cut from the screen and the entire fairgrounds was dead silent.
Nicolette shoved Jeremy away from her. He stumbled back, confused.
“Riot, please tell me you’ll make her leave. She can stay anywhere,”Katiehissed.
Nicolette’s bleary eyes blinked before floating in my direction. Katie grabbed my face and yanked my attention away.
“You can’t afford to beassociatedwith her, not anymore. Not after this.”
Katie’s eyes were fierce. The hair on my arms stood up. Her hands were hot on my cheeks and I still couldn’t concentrate on what she was saying. “Riot!” she yelled.
A split second. That was all I gave to consider what she said. What it meant.
Katierepresentedthe only thing Ihadhopedfor over the past dozen years; a pathway back to being the man peoplerevered.
The man they lovedand wanted around. A man peopletrusted.
Iconsideredwhat it would be like to walk away from that.
Choose a different, directionless path. No promises.
No guarantees. The dangerswereendless but sowerethe possibilities.
When Ipulledmy focus away from Katie, itwasjust in time to see Nicolette run down the steps and take off behind the stage. When shedisappearedfrom my eyesight, Iknewtherewerenever two options.
Not even fucking close .
Therewasonly ever oneendingfor me since the day Nicolette stormedinto my life.
Regardless of what shechose, I would choose her.
If she walked out of my life tomorrow,I’dspend the rest of my dayschasingthe colors shepaintedmy heart.
My heart. So wretched andwrecked, Iwasn’tsure why it stillbotheredto keep beating.
I would chase the color of her beauty. Her danger.
I would spend the rest of my lifeshieldingthat vibrancy from the deep unkindness that seemed to follow it.
I took a breath and pulled Katie’s hands from my face. Her confused expression fell.
“Thank you for everything, Katie.”
I didn’t wait. I didn’t look back. Not one moresplitsecond before turning to run after Nicolette.
My neck shivered with the fear that maybe Ihadhesitatedtoo long.
Isprintedin the direction sheranbut didn’t catch any glints of that obnoxiously perfect blonde ponytail.
Ikeptmoving through the vendor booths, still empty fromgatheringat the welcome presentation, until Iheardthe familiar clanks of metal and chimes.
I paused a few yards short of my vendor booth when I spotted Nicolette violently trashing the scattered pieces.
She swept the table with both arms, knocking everything to the ground, before stomping on the wooden crate that she had brought to help decorate the space.
When I noticed the way she had made the booth come to life with the extra touches, I was floored.
And now everythingwasin pieces on theground. I didn’t care about the art. Itwasmadeof metal, it would be fine. I could rebuild all of them in a day if Iwanted. I understood her fury, I just hoped she didn’t hurt herself.
I approached her with caution, like a wild animal.
Visceral, throaty screams rumbled from her chest, as if caught inside her body, refusing to erupt from her mouth, unwilling to make it real.
Once the table was clear and there was nothing left to throw, she came to stillness.
Her shoulders rose and fell rapidly with exhausted, breathy pants.
Her eyes fell downward, landing on the Godot Family Field Days tank top that all the committee members wore. I stood, stunned, as she yanked the neck of the shirt, splitting it down the middle, tearing it from her body like the Hulk.
She balled it up and shoved the wad of cotton in her mouth and, finally, let out the most desperate, heartbreaking scream I had ever heard from a human.
Nicolette fell to her knees, exhausted. She inhaled a breath and let out another cry, this one laced with fury and grief.
Iturnedto see a small crowdgathering,peeringaround the entrance to the vendor row. Jeremy Blackwellscowledat me from the front of the group.
My focus returned to Nicolette. Her screams subsided to shallow wails, still muffled by the shirt she stuffed in her mouth.
She was left wearing just a black bra and as the crowd grew, something fiercely protective in me came alive.
I unbuttoned my plaid shirt and removed it, leaving only my white t-shirt underneath.
Itookcareful steps toward her,tryingto use my body to block most of the view of her shirtless form. My hearthurtto think she might not want to see me but the need to get her far away from hereeclipsed my fear of rejection.
She didn’t look up when Idrapedmy shirt around her shoulders.
She didn’t look up when Iputan arm around her andusedthe other to help her to her feet.
And she didn’t look up when Iguidedher in the direction of my truck, away from the onlookers.
Shepulledthe shirt from her mouth andusedit to wipe the tears thathadstartedstreamingfrom her red, puffy eyes.
Nicolette’s shoulders continued to hitch, remaining curled in on herself.
I didn’t take my arms away, fearing she’d collapse if I let go.
I pulled her tighter to my body and her shoulders relaxed causing something in my heart to bloom.
Her careful steps kept time with mine and although I wanted her to look at me, wanted to ask how she was doing, wanted her to know it would be alright, I had to let her be the first one to speak when she was ready.
I pulled the passenger door open, and she didn’t hesitate before climbing in, eager to lift her feet from touching the earth that had just viciously torn her heart to shreds. When her sobs subsided, she took a deep breath, leaning back against the seat, devastated and defeated.
Godot had taught me the harsh reality of what it was like to be a pariah in this town.
The facade of southern hospitality was laced with judgment and I knew how she was feeling right now, at least partially, because I felt it the day I returned and every day since.
It was a horrible sensation to feel unwanted.
Especially in a place that was supposed to be your home.
A few minutes after I began driving, she lifted her head, blinking as if she just realized we were moving. She wiped away a tear and turned to me. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“For a little ride.”I finallyletmy focus drift to her and my heartbrokeall over again at her deep,woundedeyes,swollenand bloodshot, her flawless skin splotchy and red.
I had seen her defeated. I had never seen her wrecked.
“Are you dumping me on the outskirts of town with all the other trash?” She sounded so sad and bitter it made my chest hitch.
“Nope,” was all I said. And kept driving.
The lake was serene as dusk settled over it. The water reflected the hot colors of the early sunset and for a moment it looked like one endless sky. I almost smiled, breathing in the air that came off the small lake. Nicolette pushed her door open.
“Hang on.” I jogged over to the passenger side and pulled open the glove compartment where I kept a small first aid kit. I pulled it out and gestured for her hands. She looked confused, gazing down at her hands and wrists which were oozing blood from tiny cuts. Her palms extended toward me.
Iopenedan antibacterial wipe andpattedher skin.
Shesuckedin a painful breath, the chemicals stinging the wounds.
Iloweredmy lips to hover over her bare arms andblewcool air on the stinging cuts.
Goosebumps ran down her skin. Ikeptmy hands on her forearms,tryingto warm her from the outside in.
“I’m sorry about the pieces, Riot,” she rasped, her gaze still fixed on the bandages I was applying to the larger lacerations. “I’ll pay for them or help fix them or…” she drifted off. When I finished, I held her hands in mine, silently pleading for her attention.
“You needed to hit something. And it was the most familiar something nearby.” I dared to lift her chin to look me in the eyes. “Don’t worry about the artwork. Not even a little. Thoseareeasy fixes.”
I helped her down off the truck and she came to a stop, mesmerized by the sunset too.
I halted at the way the golden light reflected off her skin.
She pulled the elastic out of her hair, letting it cascade over her shoulders and back.
I held my breath, afraid I might give away how unbelievably beautiful I found her at that moment.
She wrapped my shirt tighter around her body and my stomach twisted.
She looked good in it and I let myself imagine she was pretending it was me.
My phonerangin my back pocket. The last thing Ineededwasto bedistractedby calls right now.
Ipulledit out andtossedit on the driver’s seat at the same time IsawNicolette throw herlit-up phone through the open passenger window.
They bothlandedon the fabric seats at the same time with a soft thud.
Shelookedup and our eyescaughtfor a moment of silent understanding.
Wordlessly, I grabbed a backpack out of the back seat and began hiking down an embankment. Nicolette followed close behind.
The path down to the lake was steep. When we reached the bottom, I turned to offer her a hand down the last boulder. She hesitated but took it and her soft hand was so warm in mine it almost made me feel drunk.
As both her feethitthe sandy leaves, I didn’t botherlettinggo of her hand. Warmthspreadthrough me when she didn’t pull away.
There was a small row boat upside down on the bank. I flipped it over, landing it in the water and holding it from floating away with my foot. I looked back at her, once again extending a hand to help her in the boat.
This time shestoodfixedwhere shewas,continuingto dart her uneasy attention from me to the boat to the water, back to my hand, her eyes wary.
I dropped my hand to my side and softened my gaze.
Come on, Nicolette, trust me. Come with me. Her eyes tangled with mine, fixed in a warring standoff, not with me, but with herself. I raised my hand again, pushing it out, beckoning her closer.
With a tentative step, she reached out, and I wrapped her hand in mine.