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MALICE (A HOUNDS OF HELL MOTORCYCLE CLUB ROMANCE) by Nikki Wild (179)

Angel

At least half a day before Trent would be back home, I was already back out of the bus and quietly, miserably waiting at my destination.

And that life, as I knew it, was long gone.

I only had to wait at the bus station for about two hours before Mom showed up, pulling up in her battered, ancient sedan. It wasn’t surprising to me to see that it was still marked with dings, dents, and a crumpled backseat door.

“Angel! Good lord, girl, I thought I’d never see you again!”

Proudly boasting ratty, unkempt hair and loud makeup choices, Mom gave me an awkward car hug as I climbed into the passenger seat.

“Where have you been all this time?” She suddenly demanded to know.

“I think I was staying…with a friend, or something,” I told her reluctantly. “Nowhere near here. The last little while, I’ve been living with…well, I guess it’s not really important.”

“I see,” she nodded, kicking us into reverse and peeling out from the bus station. “All that really matters is that you’re back now. God, Angel, I was so worried about you these last years, I had no idea if you were dead or alive…”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

“Then maybe you should have considered not running off in the middle of the night,” she sternly lectured me. “What the hell were you thinking, disappearing into the dark? I searched for you for days! Weeks! Months! We put out a report and everything!”

I found that odd, especially since I’d only really been a few hours away. Granted, it was the middle of nowhere, so maybe the report didn’t make it out there?

Mom briefly turned to me, a sympathetic look on her face. “Why did you leave, honey?”

I shook my head.

“Now’s not the time,” I whispered, trying to change the subject.

“Well…just stay with me for now, and we’ll get you taken care of…won’t we, dear?”

“Okay, Mom,” I nodded. “So… What happened to Roger?”

Panic seized my chest as I uttered his name, as if he’d jump out of the shadows at any second.

“Like I said on the phone, we got separated a few years back,” Mom smiled at me with freshly whitened teeth. “It hit him pretty hard when you ran away… Especially after all the time he spent helping you in the hospital. The man was in a panic.”

I bet he was… I thought to myself.

“He…he isn’t still in town?”

“No, sweetheart,” Mom said. “I’m sorry. We fell out of touch. Haven’t heard from him all year.”

My panic began to settle down.

“Okay…” I said quietly, trying not to alert her to my fear. Mother would blame herself if she ever knew the truth

“Mhmm,” she nodded, steering us onto the highway. The sun was setting, and there weren’t too many cars on the road.

“Listen…I’m sorry to call you up, out of nowhere,” I tried to tell her. I felt compelled to apologize. “I know that it’s a lot, asking for help out of the blue…”

“No, no, not at all,” Mom reassured me. “I’m just so happy to have you back. You have no idea. A mother should never be separated from her daughter when they need each other.”

I thought on this, and a silence developed between us. Mom took the time to turn on the radio, flicking through a few stations.

I caught a brief snippet of Wicked Wilds as she flipped from signal to signal, and it made my heart sink.

Oh, Trent, I despaired to myself.

If only we could have been together.

I miss you so fucking much.

“Ah, here we go,” Mom chuckled, settling on a contemporary country station. Immediately, the twang of a wailing, energetic acoustic guitar sang out, accompanied by the rich but depressed voice of a rugged cowboy singer.

Down by the bayou, I saw you last / Beer in my hand, the past in the past / On one fine hell of a winnin’ streak / We made love by the river’s creek…”

Turning away from Mom to gaze out the window at the dark, sailing trees, I let myself finally experience the weight of the choice I’d made.

I did this for you, Trent, I thought to myself.

But it didn’t stop the tears from falling.

It was a couple of hours later before we arrived back home in our tiny little stain on the wooded Alabama wilderness. The familiarity of the small bridge over the tiny river – the single decent landmark here – awoke the faintest wisps of childhood memories

I could almost see it. I experienced a small barrage of scattered visions in the shattered glass of my life before the accident.

Skipping and playing through the trees.

A solitary school bus, pulling up by the bridge every morning – bringing the kids a town over for elementary school.

A time before I knew of mountains and oceans.

Before I knew of great castles and bustling metropolises.

I swallowed the tension that appeared in my throat. This was a place that I never liked to dwell on, and it was the place to which I had resigned myself.

I was going to live here again.

No friends.

No job.

No nothing.

As if reading my gloomy mind, Mom chirped up. “Oh! My disability check should be in the mail again any day now. Until then, I’ve got some food in the fridge you can have. I picked up your favorites when I knew you were coming…got you some of those juice popsicles you used to like so much, some cherry Pop-Tarts, some Lunchables…”

“Mom, I never liked those popsicle things,” I told her. “And what about stuff like bread, or vegetables, or fruit? Can I go get some of that?”

“Nonsense!” She smiled toothily. “We’ve got some bread at home, some peanut butter…no jelly, though…and I think I still have some grapes or something. Let’s wait for that check, and then we’ll take a look at what we can get you.”

“Wait…did you say that you collect disability now?”

She glared at me.

As if I’d questioned her moral integrity.

Of course I collect disability. My knees are so weak, I can barely get anywhere! Always hobbling around, I’d fall and hurt myself otherwise! And without that son of a bitch ex-husband of mine, I’ve got to support myself some way!”

I snuck a discreet glance down at her legs.

They looked fine.

“Okay, Mom,” I smiled faintly. “I’m sorry that I offended you. And thank you. For getting me, and everything else.”

“Of course, dear,” Mom sweetened slightly, pulling into our drive. We scattered gravel as we drove past concealing trees and foliage, finally exposing the green, barely livable, large shack of a house. “Anything for you, my sweet darling.”

I was wrong earlier.

THIS is when I resigned myself to my fate.

Well…at least Roger’s not here.

It was the only solace that I had now.