Tara
I stare at the phone as it flashes beside me. The buzzing vibrates through the mattress and I hover my hand over it, contemplating answering the call. Twenty-two times she’s called already. Twenty-two times I’ve stared at the screen until it rang off.
Snatching it, I slide my finger across the screen, answering the call.
“Hey,” I mutter so quietly I’m not sure she can even hear me.
“Tara, my God,” she cries out. “I’ve been so worried about you. How are you? What happened?” Her questions fly out so fast I can barely keep up. My hand shakes as I hold the phone to my ear, scared to speak. I know she won’t believe me. She’ll know that something bad happened.
“Talk to me,” she prompts, her voice full of sadness. “You’re my best friend, Tara. I need to know what happened that is so bad you can’t confide in me.”
“I… uh…” I try. But nothing comes. I have nothing to say to her that can make any of this shit go away. “I want to.” I manage to force the words out.
“But what? What the hell happened? Why did you run off like that?”
“You and Brax were keeping me locked up. I had to do something. Foolish, I know.”
Izzy sighs heavily. “We were protecting you,” she replies, then gasps. “Shit, Tara.” Her voice is muffled as it sounds like her hand is concealing the phone. “Is this… is this him? Did he do something to you?”
My eyes flutter shut, and I shed a solitary tear. How can I lie to her?
After a moment’s silence, she bellows down the receiver. “Tara, answer me, goddamnit!”
“Can you come here? Alone? I mean it, Izzy. I need you to be with me on this. I don’t want Brax knowing anything. If you can’t promise that, then don’t come.”
“Why?” she presses further.
“I’ll text you the address,” I reply, ignoring her question.
“But...” I don’t give her the chance to say any more. I pull away the cell phone, hitting the end button. I quickly type out the address and drop the phone on the bed.
Pushing myself up, I slide my legs over the edge of the bed and step up. The stinging sensation hurts like a bitch, and I wince at the pain, but more at the thoughts of that man touching me. I wonder if the images that flash through my mind will ever fade. Will my body heal? Of course. But my mind, that I’m not so sure of. The lack of memories doesn’t make it any easier. My mind creates images of what he did to me. Really vivid images. Shuddering, I shake my head, trying to clear it. I shuffle my feet over to the vanity, slowly sliding down onto the stool, precariously positioning myself so that it’s not so painful. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I barely recognize myself. I’m pale and bruised. My cheek is swollen and covered in small cuts. The swell of tears grows but I won’t let them break through. Not this time. I have to fix my face. I glance up one more time. How the hell am I going to fix my face? I let out an exasperated breath, reaching down into the drawer. I pull out an old cosmetic purse, rifling through for something that can fix this shit. All I find is some concealer and powder. I begin working over the marks, trying to hide them. But all I see is a stranger staring back at me. I’m tainted, and I don’t look or feel like the feisty Tara that my friends know and love.
A gentle tap on the door causes me to jerk in surprise. I clutch my racing heart as my eyes fall on my mother stepping into the room.
“Oh,” she says in disbelief. “You’re up.” Tilting her head, she comes closer, lines appearing on her forehead as she draws in her brows. “Baby, what’s wrong with your face?”
I look at myself in the mirror and can’t help the chuckle that escapes. I look ridiculous. The concealer is too light for my skin tone and I look like a goddamn Geisha.
“You don’t like this look?” I ask, stifling a laugh.
“Hell no, girl. Your dark hair and white makeup makes you look like a goth!”
I laugh a little, looking adoringly at the woman who raised me single-handed. I don’t remember my father much. He died in a car accident when I was just three years old. Since that day it was just me and Mom. But Mom was always close to her brother—my uncle Eddie, Carter’s father. The man that ran the city before Carter took over. Mom was the only woman in the family and everyone adored her. That’s why it was so hard for her to accept that Carter wasn’t the good man she had been led to believe. She didn’t know the things that I grew to know about him. She’d placed him on a goddamn pedestal so high he became untouchable.
“Tara, I’ve missed you,” she sighs, placing her hand gently against my back. “I’m sorry it’s been so long since we last spoke. I honestly didn’t know he was capable of the things you have told me about. Looks like I’ve been a fool.” She lets her head fall forward. “I’m not going to let anyone come between us again.”
“I love you, Mom.” Reaching up, I wrap my arm around her waist, her lips touching the top of my head as she kisses me softly.
“I love you too, baby.”
Pulling back, I tilt my head, looking up at her. “I’m expecting a visitor.” I grimace a little. “It’s Izzy.”
“Wow,” she says stepping back and crossing her arms over her chest. “Really, Tara?”
“I know she’s the one that killed Carter. I know it still cuts deep. But she’s my best friend. I need her.”
“But you got me,” she spits back.
Pushing back the stool, I step up, placing a hand on either of her upper arms. “She had no choice, Mom. It was her or him. Given the choice you’d have done the same.”
“Maybe. But I raised that boy like he was my own child. He took care of me. It’s hard to let go of the innocent memories of him. Whether or not he deserved to die.”
I smile sadly, nodding.
“I think it’s best all round if I head out.” She points her forefinger over her shoulder. “I have to go downtown anyway. I have shit to do,” she rambles and I’m not sure if she’s trying to convince me or herself.
“Okay,” I reply.
“But I’m leaving the shotgun. You use it should you need to.” She points her finger at my chest, lightly making contact. “Don’t let anyone ever hurt you again. Got it?”
“I didn’t let this happen, Mom.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she quickly responds. “I just want you to make sure you’re armed and protecting yourself at all times. Okay, baby?”
“Yes, Mom,” I say offering her a quick smile.
“Good,” she says reaching up and cupping my cheek gently. “Well, I better get outta here.” Throwing her arm up, she rushes out of the room and down the hall. I step into the doorway, leaning against the frame. Part of what she said was right. I should have killed that fucker. Put a bullet in his skull. Instead, I ran away, fleeing for my life. Given the chance, I should’ve ended it there.
Heading into the living room, I slide down onto the small couch, grabbing the remote and flicking through the channels.
A few minutes later, Mom appears with her purse slung over her shoulder. “I’m off. The shotgun is beside the door. It’s locked and loaded. You know what to do.” Giving me a firm nod, she opens the door, shouting a fleeting goodbye as she closes it behind her.
* * *
Click. Click. Click.
Staring blankly at the screen, I flick through the channels, but nothing on the screen registers. I feel empty and lost as I try to focus on something. Anything.
Thud. Thud.
I can’t help but jump at the sound. I walk over to the window, discreetly checking who is at the door. I’d notice her beautiful white-blonde hair anywhere. Rushing over to the door, I drop the lock, opening it slowly.
“Hey,” I say weakly.
“Oh my God, Tara,” she says, throwing her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly. I suck in a sharp breath and she relaxes her hold on me.
“You’re hurting?” she asks, her eyes hard on me.
I nod, pulling in my bottom lip.
“What? How? How did this happen, Tara? Nate said you were mugged?”
I reach past her, securing the door shut, her eyes following me. She notices the shotgun beside the door and her eyes widen.
“You want a drink?” I ask, rubbing my neck nervously.
“No,” she snaps. “What I want is to know what the hell happened to you.”
I fill my lungs, slowly letting out a breath, my chest tightening at the thought of reliving the whole thing. If I tell her it has to be brief. Rehashing the whole goddamn thing is no good for my recovery.
“Come in,” I say, indicating for her to follow me. I make my way into the living room, sitting down on the couch. Izzy follows me, sitting right by my side.
“Did Jeffries do this?” she blurts out. “I need to know.”
I cover my face with my hands, dropping my head forward. “Yes,” I simply state. “I went to speak to Nate. I was half-cut but desperate to see him. To make him understand that whatever stands in our way we can be together. He freaked when he saw me and sent me away. I was hurt, drunk, and confused. I mean now it makes sense, but at the time, after seeing him with that new biker chick, I flipped out. So I went back for him, only I never made it. Jeffries got hold of me, started touching me. I fought him the best I could, but it was no use.” I stop, sniffling, as I try to find the strength to continue.
“Jesus, Tara. I’m sorry.”
“He drugged me, Izzy. I don’t remember anything other than waking beside him, sore and covered in bruises.”
Grabbing my hand, she pulls me into her, my head landing on her shoulder. I cry uncontrollably. Her hand strokes the back of my head as I let out every emotion I’d tried to keep locked inside.
“I got you, honey,” she soothes.
“Izzy, I don’t know what to do,” I choke out. “I tried to kill him. Pulled a gun on him but he overpowered me. I fought to get out, to get away. I pulled out his knife and stabbed him in the leg. Izzy, I’m lucky to be alive.”
“Who knows?” she asks as I pull back, her head dropping as she tries to meet my eye. “Did you go to the police?”
“No,” I throw out. “I can’t tell the police. No one can know, Izzy. NO. ONE.”
With a small gasp, she squeezes my hand. “You have to tell someone. We have to deal with this asshole.”
“How?” I ask with a sad smile. “I’m confused, hurt, and lost in all of this, Izzy.”
“He has to go,” she replies matter of fact, anger evident in her features. “Asshole needs to pay for what he’s done to you. Believe me. These men never change. He won’t stop at this. He’ll keep going and going until he has torn you apart.” She screws up her face and her jaw tightens. I swallow down the dread that has built up. I knew this conversation would be hard.
“Are you okay?” I ask warily. “This is close to the bone for you.”
“Every day gets easier. Believe it or not, the pain you feel, deep in your gut, will subside. But the memories. Those fuckers never leave you.” Crossing her arms, her shoulders stoop. A stormy look crosses her face and I now know a fraction of how she feels. “We have to stick together.” She offers me a weak smile. I can’t help but embrace her. Because right now, knowing what she went through, and the nightmares that haunt her, my problems pale in comparison. I hold so tightly to her. Knowing that we need each other, and she’s the only one that can help me through this.
Releasing her, I notice she swipes away a tear sliding across her cheek. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” I say, wondering whether this is too much for her.
“Don’t be silly,” she tuts. “I’m your best friend. I’m hurting because you’re hurting and I want to know how we can make this right. How exactly do we deal with that bastard?”
“I don’t know—”
“I won’t allow you to live in fear, Tara,” she cuts me off mid-sentence.
“Well I’m planning on staying here for a little while longer. I gotta get my shit together. Besides, I feel safe here. He doesn’t know where I am. That makes me feel a hell of a lot safer.”
She shakes her head, her brows drawn together. “I hate this,” she growls. “I hate that he’s done this to you. Let me tell Brax. He’ll know how to deal with this. He’ll hire someone, get the job done real quick.”
“You can’t,” I blurt out. “You can’t tell him.”
“I don’t understand,” she croaks. “After what he’s done to you, you should want your revenge. That sick fucker should be dead and buried in the woods.”
“You tell Brax, and he’ll tell Nate. Do you really think Nate will want me when he knows what his father did to me? I have nothing if I lose him again, Izzy.”
“Shit,” she grumbles. “I get it. I really do, but it doesn’t mean I agree with it.”
“Nate hates his father because of what he’s done to us. Forcing us apart and torturing him for being with me. He said something about taking care of it. I have to hope that Nate can pull it off. He loves the club and his brothers. He wants to make a difference and I believe he will.”
“And… you’re okay with being his old lady? You’re just going to slip into club life? Huh?” She snorts.
“If that’s what it takes to be by his side, I’ll do it.”