Michele

The walk upstairs is slow. Twenty-two steps seem like twenty-two hundred steps as they each take me further and further away from Jackson.

This is exactly why I wanted him to leave. He’s had enough pain to endure because of loving me and being tied to my family. He lost years locked up for a crime he didn’t commit.

I want to scream. I want to cry.

Hasn’t he suffered enough?

Haven’t we suffered enough?

At the landing for my apartment, I stifle my cry of surprise when I find two men and two women inside my personal space.

As soon as I cross the threshold one of the men zooms past me and to the landing of the stairs. He listens intently while I still stand dumbfounded with the people in my home.

They look familiar like the men with Jackson yesterday.

“Get you got questions,” the shortest of them all says. “I’m Trapper. The man at the front is Deacon. Don’t worry, he’s not about to take ya to church. But whatever the fuck he says is our plan is our plan like a fuckin’ bible so just listen to him.”

A woman with dark black hair and tattoos walks over to me and extends her hand. “I’m Sonnie, Collector’s my man.”

I shake her hand not sure what I’m supposed to say. “Michele.”

“I know this is overwhelming. We’re here to keep you safe for Rowdy. Need you to pack a bag, honey.”

I shake my head back and forth. This is too much.

“You started the peonies on Rowdy. You did good work. I got a job for you if you want one,” she continues talking seeking some sort of reaction from me.

“I’m mixed up with some bad people.”

“And the boys’ll get you out of it.”

I feel my chest constrict. These people don’t know me. They are here for Jackson. I think back to when we were younger.

“Jackson, what’s wrong?”

He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Nothin’ to worry about, babe.”

This bothers me. I know we’re young, but I love this boy beside me with my whole heart. “We’re in this together, Jackson. Don’t shut me out.”

“Mom kicked me out.”

I gasp in shock as my heart hurts for him. How could his mother do this? Well, I know how. She’s never been overly nurturing. She’s always wanted Jackson to grow up and has said on more than once occasion as soon as he’s eighteen regardless of the fact he’s still in high school she wanted him gone.

He turns his head away from me. “Just tryin’ to figure things out alone, babe. Nothin’ for you to worry about Michele.”

Reaching out, I take his hand in mine and give it a squeeze. “Jackson, you’re not alone, you always have me.”

And yet, I didn’t keep my word. By some misplaced loyalty to my brother, I left Jackson to deal with life alone.

I never knew what it was to feel alone until after I agreed to Bates plan. My mother and brother always did what they could to shield me from my father’s rage and our life woes. Then Jackson came along and he worked to ease the burden for my mother and continue to make life easy for me.

What did I give him in return?

Betrayal.

“I can see the wheels in your head turning. I know this is an intense situation and you don’t know what to think.” Sonnie explains reading my mind. “Rowdy, he trusts us. Knowin’ your man, he wants us to keep you safe at all costs. So I need you to pack a bag quickly, so Judge and X can get us out of here and some place safe.”

Seconds feel like eternity and having no other options, I do as she asks and throw together a bag.

I hear the sounds of gun shots.

My heart seizes.

“No!” I scream as the tears form and fall from my eyes. “I love him.” I tell the air around me.

Trapper glares at me. “You love him, but you let him think you were dead.”

His words cut deep but not as deep as my guilt already has.

“Trapper,” Sonnie warns.

I listen as hard as I can to try to hear the voices downstairs. My soul is begging to hear Rowdy speak one more time and know he’s okay.

Deacon steps back from the stairway landing and looks to me as I pull a picture of my brother and I from the wall and put into my bag.

“Go with Sonnie, out the window, Judge and X will take y’all back. Trapper you follow them and cover the back.”

I drop the bag in my hand to the floor in a thump. “I’m not leaving him again.”

“I’m a Navy SEAL. I was trained in giving medical care in combat. If, and it’s an if, Rowdy is hurt, I’ll treat him. Although, from what I gather at the stairs he’s talkin’. You get outta here, I’ll check the camera feed to my phone and make certain of it. But Rowdy would want you safe, so it’s our job to make that happen even if we have to tape your mouth shut and tie you the fuck up. You wanna do this the hard way or the easy way?”

I swallow hard feeling conflicted in leaving Jackson even if they say it’s what he would want.

“Look, broad. I don’t fuckin’ know you. But this ain’t time to pussyfoot around and make a decision. If you ever gave two shits about Rowdy, then fuckin’ hit the fire escape and let us keep our word to your man better than you ever fuckin’ did.” Trapper orders not hiding his frustration with me. “Some of us care enough about him to put aside the shit you did to keep you safe.”

I gasp, but he continues.

“I don’t. I’ll take you outta here kicking, screaming, and fuckin’ bitin’. I’ll make sure your safe to keep my word to my brother, but make no mistakes about it – it’s for Rowdy. Now take your ass to the fire escape, climb out and down and get the fuck outta my sight because women like you make it hard to believe in love.”

“Trapper, shut it!” Sonnie says taking me by the hand and then picking up my bag. “Ignore him. He just wishes he was downstairs getting shot at.”

“Fuck yeah, I do!”

Deacon turns to face me, hands on his hips. “Look I get you don’t know us. We are shit on a shoe to you. But bottom line, your man is our family. We take care of what’s ours. He considers you his,” he looks to Trapper, “no matter the past between you.” His eyes come back to mine. “So can you just go with Sonnie and the guys to be safe so we can honor the code we live by. Shit settles and you wanna leave, then I’ll pay for your bus ticket to wherever the fuck you wanna go. Right now, you are one helluva distraction so could ya leave.” He blows out a breath. “Please.”

“Okay,” I croak out unsure of what else to say or do.

As I turn to go to the fire escape, Trapper mutters, “Thank fuck!”

The worry and concern for Jackson gnaws away at me inside as I follow Sonnie outside and down the escape to wear two men and two other women wait.

They don’t speak to me, but nod to Trapper before climbing on motorcycles and the women climb on behind them. I look at Sonnie who is securing my bag to a bike. She moves to a sports bike and motions me over.

“Hop on,” she instructs and I do.

It feels strange as she twists the throttle and we pull away. Holding onto her doesn’t bring me the comfort of Jackson. This all feels wrong.

Every inch, every piece of gravel that passes under us feels like an obstacle building between us. Will we be strong enough to overcome even more between us now?

Just when I let myself have hope for a second chance there is a possibility time has run out.

And it’s all my fault.