SANDRA
After Sandra made the decision to swear off men, a girls night out was exactly what she needed. When one of her friends, Amy, called and invited her right after Steven left, Sandra gladly agreed to go.
They’d done the whole movie and dinner thing. It was like a club for single ladies and she was happy to be a part of it. She’d arranged for a baby sitter for Alex. It was nice to have a night out that was all for her. She didn’t have to worry about getting overly dressed up, about trying to impress someone or make a good impression, about her body, about her clothes, about her hair and makeup. She felt safe being out with friends. It was the best date night she’d had in a long time.
The best part- she didn’t have to worry about some dude trying to get in her pants after.
It made her wonder why she hadn’t done it a long time ago. Not the friends thing. The avowedly single thing. She could take care of herself. She’d never doubted that. She and Alex didn’t have a lot, but they were fine.
She’d just needed that closure. She’d needed to see Trace one more time, to let him hurt her and break her heart all over again, to remind her that he was dead-end. He offered no future. He hadn’t a decade before and he wasn’t going to now, not even when he knew he had a son.
She once thought they were like strands of a rope, braided together, destined to be together. She was wrong. The link she’d felt to him even after all those years was completely severed.
It was his fault. She did blame him. He could have made a different decision all those years ago. He could have chosen her. He picked the lifestyle he was currently entrenched in. Even if he wanted to leave and he couldn’t, he was probably right. She and Alex were better off without him.
Sandra pulled up in her parking spot, eager to see Alex. She trusted Jenna, a fourteen year old girl who lived on the top floor of the apartment building. She was responsible, had taken a babysitting course, and was young enough that she wasn’t into partying or guys yet. She and Alex had fun the few times Amy looked after him in the past.
She shouldered her purse and pulled the door handle. Sandra unfolded herself, careful not to bang her head on the low door pillar like she’d done after the movie. It was something she did a few times every single week and she hated it.
She sensed the presence behind her before she saw it. A shadow, dark and menacing loomed over her. Before she could scream, a hand clamped firmly over her mouth. Her entire body went into fight mode. She tried to thrash away from her assailant, but he slung an arm around her shoulders and slammed her tight against his chest. He kept his other hand hard.
Twisting, Sandra tried to ram her shoulder into the assailant’s stomach or go for his throat, maybe get low enough to ram him in the groin, but she halted when she realized the strength in that arm wrapped around her was familiar. Even the hand at her mouth was one she knew. She inhaled sharply and she knew him immediately by the scent of gasoline and leather and the deeper, sharper scent of man that was and always had been, unique.
Trace dragged her across the parking lot into the shadows of the building. The grass was already dewy and wet, since it was after midnight.
“Where did you just get back from?” he growled low in her ear. His breath hit the nape of her neck, warm and erotic. She shivered and hated her body for its traitorous reaction.
He lowered his hand a fraction and relaxed his hold. Sandra spun, the rage building up inside of her. “What the fuck?” she hissed. “Was it really necessary to grab me and haul me out of my car and into the shadows? We could have talked in the parking lot, like normal people.”
“We’re not normal people, you and I. We both know that.”
“Maybe you aren’t,” she corrected. Annoyingly enough, a smile played with the corners of his lips. “And you probably know exactly where I’ve been. You’re called Trace for a reason. Anyway, it’s none of your business.”
“It’s my business when you go out and leave my son alone.”
“Alone?” Sandra scoffed. “Are you fucking insane? He’s with a babysitter. I wouldn’t leave my eight-year-old kid at home to fend for himself.”
Trace had the grace to look ashamed. “Sorry.” He unhanded her and she took a shaky step back, glad to be away from him and his heat and the confusing cascade of sensation that plagued her body.
“He’s not your son,” she spat, just because she was still pissed about being manhandled away from her car. She wasn’t a mean spirited person even when she wanted to be and the flash of pain in Trace’s eyes sent a wave of guilt through her. “I- uh- fuck. Don’t you know how much you scared me? I thought someone was trying to get my purse. You could have hurt me. I didn’t know it was you and I thought you were going to.”
“I’m sorry. I just- I- I didn’t want anyone to see you with me. Not yet.”
“What do you mean not yet?” Her voice came out just as guarded as she felt. A cold chill snaked up her spine.
“I- there’s something I have to tell you. I- I can’t give you details yet, but I may have found a way out. Out of the club. For good.”
“A way out?” Sandra’s hands shot to her hips before she realized the pose made her look like a bossy old lady version of her mom and dropped her hands back to her sides.
“Yes. A way out.” Trace nodded. His face remained impassive, but his eyes shone with hope.
It made her heart ache. She couldn’t do this. Not again. She’d promised herself that if Trace ever came back, she’d send him packing. He’d given up all rights to her life ten years ago, then he’d come back and shattered her all over again. She couldn’t let it keep happening. She had to keep herself safe and keep Alex safe. Not that Trace would ever hurt his son, but she wouldn’t be much of a mother if she kept holding on, pathetically, hoping for that one elusive chance that was never going to come along. They were never going to work out. End of story.
“That’s- that’s great,” Sandra stammered. She didn’t want to hurt Trace. She just had to stay firm. “I mean, I never really thought that anyone would enjoy that kind of living. Or I guess, people do enjoy it. I just don’t understand how.” She swallowed hard, aware that she was nervously rambling and that she was twisting her hands together in front of her waist. “I… I’m glad for you,” she tacked on, lamely.
Trace’s eyes bore through her, straight to her soul. “No. You don’t understand,” he slowly corrected, like her skull was too thick to truly comprehend why he was there. “If I can get out, I’m coming for you. For you and Alex and we’ll leave. We’ll go somewhere and start a new life.”
“What?” Sandra stepped back. It was worse than she thought. “Start a new life?” She frowned. “It’s too late for that, Trace. We can’t just pick up where we left off nine years ago. I don’t want to leave. I have my family outside the city. Alex has his friends, his school his- his whole life is here. I have my job…”
“Those are terrible reasons and you know it,” Trace said evenly. “I never stopped thinking about you, Sandy. You know that.”
“Then you should have picked me in the first place,” Sandra snapped. “You should have picked me instead of bad men you call brothers and a piece of shit who commands your allegiance and your entire life. You gave everything to that club. You gave all of yourself. You chose it instead of me. You have to live with that decision. Whether you thought you weren’t good enough, whatever. I don’t care. It’s over now and it’s done. You were right when you said we can’t go back. There isn’t a do-over. Life doesn’t work that way.”
“You sure seemed to want a second chance a few days ago.”
“I might have,” Sandra admitted. “I might have lost my mind temporarily. I might have believed that after so long if you ever came back, that I could open my heart again, that I could believe in you and in us, but I was wrong. That shit is for fantasies. We don’t live in the pages of fiction. This is the real fucking world. In the real world, things don’t work out just because someone spends years thinking about it. Families don’t magically stay together. Things don’t work out. That’s the way it is. Real life is hard work. It’s shitty and it’s unfair.”
“No.” Trace shook his head. “I refuse to believe that. You’re saying those things because I hurt you. I walked out on you because I had to. I needed time to think. I couldn’t stay with you and promise you the world when I had no way to give it to you. That wouldn’t be fair to you. It wouldn’t be fair to any of us.”
Sandra wrapped her arms around her chest to protect herself, to keep her bleeding heart intact and to ward off the words Trace wielded like a knife against her. She so desperately wanted to believe him, but she damn well knew better. She couldn’t expose Alex to a man who walked in and out of their lives. Trace wasn’t the same man he was nine years ago. He’d joined a motorcycle club. He probably had done things she couldn’t imagine. Things she didn’t want to imagine. She couldn’t trust him. She couldn’t go away with him. She couldn’t let him back into her life and into her heart in any capacity because she knew, despite all, she wouldn’t be strong enough to resist him.
“No. I just- I can’t. I’m glad that you want to get out of that lifestyle. I’m sure nothing good will come of it and I always thought you’d wind up dead. Sometimes I wondered. Actually, I wondered all the time. There was no sometimes. I thought about you every single day. I wasn’t with you. You left me nine years ago, but I saved myself for you. I dated on and off, here and there, reluctantly, when Alex was older, but my heart was never in it. It belonged to you. It was always yours. I- I realized though, when you walked out on me, that I’m done. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t trust you. All you’ve ever done was leave. You never chose me. Whether you could or you couldn’t, it doesn’t really make a difference. I can’t do it again. I’m not willing to do it again.”
Trace stared at her, his face mostly hidden by shadow, but his eyes were hard. Harder than she’d ever seen them. He was just like her. When the real threat snuck up on him, he stood his ground, but his face was a mask and he erected impenetrable walls around his heart.
“It was all for you,” he said roughly. “I wanted out, but I couldn’t figure out a way until I found you again. I’m going to get out this time. For good. I have a way. It has to work.”
Sandra nodded. “I really want that for you. I want you to be safe and well. I want you to learn how to be happy. I just- can’t be a part of it. I’m sorry.”
“We have a son together,” Trace protested, clutching at straws. She’d winded him with her refusal. He didn’t know what to say and it was clear he didn’t want to just walk away. She didn’t want him to either, but what she wanted and what she needed to do were two very different things.
“I know we have a son,” Sandra said softly. “But you can’t be in his life like this. I’m not willing to have you walk in and out of it and like I said, I don’t know you. It would be like me letting a stranger into my house. Would you want me to just invite other men in? To make them a part of Alex’s life without knowing a single thing about them?”
Trace’s shoulders rose and fell as he sighed. “Of course not, but I’m not just anyone. I’m not some guy. You can trust me. I promise that I won’t break your heart again. You can trust me. I would never do anything to hurt my son or endanger him or you.”
“I want to believe that,” Sandy whispered. Anger crawled up her throat when tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “I really do, but I can’t. You have to try and see things from my point of view. Words aren’t enough.”
Trace stepped forward, but she stumbled back. She couldn’t let him touch her or she’d come completely undone, just like before. “It’s not you that I don’t trust. Not really.” Her whispered confession left them both reeling. “It’s myself.” She whirled and stumbled blindly past the corner of the apartment building to the front door. Surprisingly, Trace let her go. He didn’t grab her and haul her back, take her hand, pull her, try and fucking kidnap her again.
When she reached the front door, she fumbled in her purse for her keys and was relieved when her fingers closed around them right away. Her hands were a mess and it was a miracle she could even get the key in the lock and the door open. She flew inside after, but the sense of safety and security she craved so badly when the door closed behind her eluded her.
She very much doubted she’d ever feel safe or secure again.
She’d always know that somewhere out there, half of her heart was missing. She couldn’t believe that the stupid saying was true. She couldn’t live with Trace and she couldn’t live without him. Literally. Because it felt like her heart had just been butchered in her chest. She actually reached up and rubbed it, the pain was so great. How could she even be alive and functioning when her lungs ached to the point where it was nearly impossible to even draw another breath?
Sandra’s heavy feet somehow took her down the hallway, right to her door. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cool, dirty wall. She had to compose herself before she went in, before she faced Alex. She had to pretend that everything was normal and that everything was going to be okay.
It shouldn’t be that hard. She’d been telling herself that lie for nearly a decade.