Daria
I was getting desperate. It had been an entire week since I’d seen Rocky and ignored his job offer and I was really beginning to regret taking my mother’s advice. How hard was it to find a job? I’d applied to everything I could get my hands on and nothing. Not a single call back.
When I’d agreed to stay away from Rocky I was upset at first about leaving an old friend, but I didn’t even consider that I wouldn’t be able to get another job offer. Three weeks we had been in Springville and I knew we couldn’t live on Mom’s tips forever. Especially since I wanted to leave the hotel as soon as possible.
Springville was a small town, and not many people were hiring. Most folk already had their hands full, or business wasn’t good enough that they could afford to take on anyone else. I understood that, I really did. But that didn’t mean that I didn’t spend every day perusing the ads and praying that by some miracle there would be another job opening.
I should’ve called Rocky last week and at least told him that I couldn’t take the job. But I knew, as soon as I started speaking to him my ‘no’ would turn into a ‘yes of course I’ll take the job.’ How could I resist a face like his? How could anyone? The fact that I didn’t call left me feeling guiltier that I thought it would, especially since I hadn’t found a job yet. If I had, at least I could have used that excuse. As it was, I’d been holed up in the hotel for days, praying I wouldn’t run into him. Springville was small enough that I knew, especially with my bad luck, I would meet him the second I set foot out the door.
Just as the thought crossed my mind, a firm knock sounded throughout the room, slightly worrying me as I walked hesitantly over to the peephole.
Could my luck really be that bad?
I swung the door open to reveal Rocky and I knew in that moment that my luck was apparently worse than I’d ever imagined. Somehow, he was looking more rugged and handsome than I remembered, and I’d been thinking about him a lot. He was in loose jeans and a fitted white V-neck, leaning against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world.
“Rocky,” I breathed out and then winced. Clearing my throat, I asked, “What are you doing here?”
He stepped around me and invited himself inside, taking a few steps and surveying the room as if he had a right to do so. I was immediately ashamed and slightly angry at his audacity. This place was all we could afford and I didn’t need someone like him judging us for it.
“Rocky?” I demanded, a little harder this time. “Why are you here?”
Turning to me, he said, “You told me you were staying here. Last week, remember?”
“I remember,” I confirmed, slightly uncomfortable that he’d come all the way down here.
“I thought I’d check anyway, in case you were lying about this too.” He sounded casual enough but I was instantly on guard.
“Excuse me?”
“If you didn’t want the job, a simple phone call would’ve been enough. Just so I could start looking for someone else.”
“Rocky, I’m sorry, I really am. And I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted the job, I just … some things happened that were a little unexpected. I should’ve called.”
“Yeah, you should’ve. So, what happened?”
I shifted uncomfortably on the spot, wishing there was some furniture in the room so that we could at least be seated for this conversation.
“Nothing, really,” I hedged. There was no way I could tell him that my mother had told me to stay away from him.
“You’ve been listening to town talk, haven’t you? Is that why you didn’t call me?” When I refused to meet his eyes, he continued. “I should’ve known. Daria, you should’ve come to me and we could’ve talked about it.”
“I’m sorry. It was my mom, she told me that it wouldn’t be the best idea to get involved with the club.”
“Now that, I can believe.”
I took a step closer, not being able to stand the distance. Placing a hand on his arm, I waited until he snapped his gaze to my own.
“Is it true?” I asked gently. Even after all my mother said, I couldn’t help but want confirmation. After all, I couldn’t spend my life listening to town gossip. Especially since I knew a lot of it was a load of crap. There was a small part of me that couldn’t reconcile the two versions of Rocky that I knew. All I wanted was some answers and who better to ask.
“It’s true. A few months ago, when Dad died.”
I couldn’t take the broken look in his eyes, something about it calling to me in a way I didn’t understand. I lifted my hand to cup his cheek in the hopes of providing even an ounce of comfort and surprisingly he didn’t pull away.
“I remember him. He was a good man. I’m sorry for what happened.”
He let out a bitter scoff at that. “Yeah me too, Daria.”
“How ... how did it happen?” I couldn’t help but ask. From what I knew and remembered of Billy Weston, he was a kind-hearted man. I couldn’t imagine someone murdering him. But since I’d never even known he was a biker, I supposed my opinion hardly counted.
Rocky pulled away from my touch at my question, leaving me feeling strangely cold and alone, and began pacing.
“It was a drug deal gone wrong. Have you heard of Jason Steele?”
I shook my head.
“He’s the president of the Nightmare MC. We’ve always had a rivalry with them but it was never as bad as now. He sabotaged the deal that my dad was on that night. They shot my dad in the chest. Three times.”
Rocky had turned his face away from me as he spoke and I pretended to ignore his audible swallow and the slight tremor in his voice.
“So, you joined the club?” I asked. I couldn’t really understand why he’d made that leap.
“Yeah. I never wanted that to be a part of my life, but it’s different now. My uncle is a good man, he wants to avenge my father like I do.”
At least I wasn’t totally clueless. I’d had a hard time grasping at the idea of a younger Rocky being even remotely interested in a motorcycle club, and it was nice to know that I wasn’t wrong. But upon hearing his plans of vengeance, I realized just how much he must have changed over the years. I breathed a deep sigh and this time I turned away from him.
“Look, Rocky. I understand why you're angry, I really do. But I really don’t think I should be involved in—”
“Oh really? You understand?” He was advancing on me know, striding forward quickly and forcing me to retreat until my back was firmly pressed against the wall.
I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but the unmistakable rage in his eyes and his cold exterior was beginning to frighten me. He was almost trembling with rage, his anger reminding me of a different man in a different life.
“What could you possibly understand?” he shouted.
At this point, I was no longer in the room with Rocky; instead, I was bombarded by memories of my life before. My stepfather’s scowling face as he raised his fists to my cheek, my paralyzing fear as I lay on the ground and his heavy boots kicked my stomach again and again, the shouts of my mother that could be heard from rooms away, but worst of all, his acidic breath and shiver-inducing voice that would whisper in my ear, “Scream for me, Princess.”
I didn’t even realize that my eyes were squeezed shut, a lone tear dripping down my face, shaking like a leaf and both hands brought up to shield my face from the anticipated onslaught.
“Daria!” A voice was shouting but I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t open my eyes.
“Daria!” it repeated. There were hands caressing my faces and a calming voice whispering nonsensical things in my ear.
“You're okay, you're okay. Open those beautiful eyes for me, darlin’.”
My breathing slowed and I was still once more, though I still refused to open my eyes. The memories were so real.
“Daria?”
This time the voice seemed to break through my barriers. I knew I recognized it, associated it with something that wasn’t pain and violence.
“Rocky?” I whispered brokenly. I finally pried my eyes open to find both his hands clutching my face, forcing my gaze to his even as I frantically tried to look everywhere else. Realizing where I was and what I was doing, my actions in the past few minutes came back to me in a flood of shame and embarrassment.
“Uh- sorry,” I stammered. “I wasn’t- I didn’t realize…”
“Don’t be sorry,” Rocky said adamantly. “Tell me what happened.”
“I was just- I remembered … I don’t really know.”
My knees felt weak and I was struggling to focus on anything. It had felt so real, more than real.
“You know I would never hurt you, right?” Rocky said gently, watching my face intently.
I nodded absently, not really listening or understanding.
“Here,” Rocky grabbed my shoulders and led me to the bed, sitting me down. He walked to the kitchen and brought back a glass of water, sitting beside me and letting me lean my body weight into him while I tipped back the glass.
Feeling marginally better, I leaned further into Rocky and placed my head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying sorry,” he grumbled. “Tell me that you're okay.”
“I’m okay,” I insisted.
“Good. Now tell me again when you mean it.”
I laughed once before falling silent again.
“I hope you know what you're doing,” I said.
“I know what you're thinking, but I’m not being stupid,” he said. “Cameron already gave me an earful bout being reckless and acting too soon. I'm biding my time for now.”
“Okay.” I couldn’t argue with that and I doubted that I could stop him, no matter how hard I tried.
We fell silent once more and I couldn’t help but appreciate how content I felt in his company. It wasn’t just a nostalgic feeling, a remnant of our youth. It went deeper than that.
I was coming to find that I liked the older Rocky just as much as the younger one, and that scared the hell out of me.
“Did you ever end up finding another job?” he asked.
“No, unfortunately. It’s been a lot harder than I expected.”
“You know … the offer is still open if you want it.”
I was shocked. “Are you serious?”
“Everyone deserves a shot. Let me know if you want it.”
I hesitated for a moment, running through my options. Could I really afford to refuse his help again?
“Okay. I’ll really think about it and this time I promise I’ll call.”
He let out a lighthearted chuckle and I felt my chest constrict a bit. I could spend hours listening to that laugh. In fact, I could spend hours with Rocky. And that was a dangerous thought.
“I better head off,” he said, getting up.
I walked him to the door and waved him off, thanking him for coming around and trusting me enough to tell me the truth. Closing the door behind me, I leant my back against it, smiling like a maniac even though he’d left.
Maybe things were starting to look up after all. The only thing left was talking to my mother about it, and I was not looking forward to that at all.