Blackout (14 page)

Carolina shakes the bar rag at Shannon. “You get your skinny ass back here and leave my new girl alone. I run things around here, not you.”

“I—” Shannon starts.

“Girl, don’t you backtalk me. I’m going to dock your pay for the extra ten minutes you took.” Carolina shakes a finger at Dare. “And Dare, you wipe that stupid grin off your face.”

I can’t help myself. I glance his way. He’s not grinning but staring me down with narrowed eyes. I shouldn’t work where he hangs out, though this will give me an opportunity to ask him for his help, and it’s the only job offer I’ve had.

“Do you need anything else?” I ask the two guys, like I know what I’m doing. This is my first job—if I stay.

The older biker grins. “Yeah, ask Carolina where our food is.”

I nod and go to the bar where Carolina pushes two plates of burgers and fries. The food smells heavenly.

I return to the bikers and hand off the food.

“This is the best place in town,” one of them says. “Little lady, you’ll do well here.” He digs into the juicy burger that dribbles into his beard.

I like Carolina, Shannon will be a PITA, and the old bikers are pretty nice without being overly friendly.

Shannon clears off a table and smiles real friendly to a patron. She sits in a burly man’s lap and titters like a bird caught in a ceiling fan. Dare is still sitting with the guys who look like regulars. One side of his lips curls up in a snarl. He glances back at me and watches. I trip over my feet before I get to the bar, just barely catching myself before I greet the wood floor.

Shannon snorts out a laugh while one of the older bikers rushes to steady me.

“Easy there,” he says. “We’re going to have to cut you off.”

“Thank you.” No panic rushes up to cause me to teeter further.

Dare remains quiet, drinking his beer and watching me. Shannon grabs his chin and turns it toward him, so he’s no longer looking at me.

Shannon slaps down his food in front of him. “You were just screwing me, ya know.”

His eyes drift up her amazing body. “So?”

Why would any girl want to date him? Lisa the other night at the party and now Shannon. What’s wrong with him? Being prosecuted as a sex offender caused all this?

I feel that same tug from my loins. It’s just because Dare’s reeking of manliness.

The front door opens and swings shut. I swivel around to see Tommy, Beau, and a much bigger guy I don’t recognize whose skin is mottled with splotches of white. Mustardy stains color the armpits of his white tee. Tommy nods in Dare’s direction, then he spots me. He swaggers over. His hands graze along my skin.

I stumble backward. “Don’t ever touch me.”

Tommy licks his lips, like he’s at a wine tasting and I’m the next Bordeaux. “Like mother like daughter. And your mother was a wild one.”

Gathering my strength, I fist my knuckles into my hips. “How would you know? You were a baby back then.” He would’ve been around eleven before Mom disappeared.

“Ooooh, she was a honey. Don’t you think, Willy?” he asks the muscle head standing by his brother.

Before I know it, Dare is between us. His massive frame is formidable and solid. “Get away from Teal.”

“You won’t stop us this time,” Beau says, sidling up to Tommy and backed up by Willy. “And you have Shannon. Go back to your girlfriend.”

Willy stands over Dare. He’s like one big muscle with a dazed expression lop-siding his mouth. A wave of tremors strikes my chest. Thankfully, no black spots edge my vision. I back into Dare who snags my arm.

“You are always getting into trouble,” he says only to me in a rough voice.

While Shannon waits on a table, a scowl ingrains on her bee-stung lips, Carolina pulls out a baseball bat from behind the bar. Before she reaches us, Willy throws a wild punch, and I mistakenly try to block it. I step in between Dare and him.

Dare shoves me out of the way, and his jaw takes the full force of Willy’s fist. Blood sprays from his lips into my face and hair. The blow forces Dare backward while I land on an old biker’s lap.

Dare staggers, shaking his head, but he bounces right back—pure killer instinct flashing in his hazel eyes.

Tommy rushes him, and Dare lands a solid punch into his throat. Tommy slams face first onto the wood floor, clutching at his neck and choking. Beau kicks and scratches Dare, fighting like a middle school girl.

The Big Muscle Willy, his face expressionless like he’s on meth, punches Dare in the side just as Dare plants his fist into Beau’s nose. I hear the distinct crunch of bone, and blood spews from Beau’s nostrils. Dare’s face pinches in agony as he clutches his side.

“You stay right here,” the old biker says before getting up and pushing me down into his seat.

A few of the bikers stand up but not before Dare lands his fist into Willy’s chin. Spittle and blood fly in slow motion as the big guy drops to his knees and then to the floor. His head hits the wooden planks with a loud thud.

The bar patron in high tech gear stabs his smart phone. “Hey, there’s a fight here.”

A few of the bikers give him dirty looks. I gather they like to handle matters on their own terms.

Carolina slams the bat on the ground. “Enough.”

It’s pretty much over. Tommy is choking, and Beau holds his broken nose, blood gushing from it. Willy lies unconscious on the floor. The rest of the bar has grown still.

“Dare, the cops are on their way.” Carolina glares at the guy who called. “Come in here at ten tomorrow,” she says to me, “and we’ll fill out the paperwork. You better take Dare home.”

I can’t drive. I glance from Dare to her, but he’s hanging onto his side like his innards might fall out. He’s in no condition to drive.

Shannon digs her fists into her slender hips. “What about me? She can stay here, and I’ll drive him home.”

“You’re working.” Carolina throws a towel at her that was tucked into her skirt. “Get back to it.”

Dare is doubled over. I help him up and out the front doors. He unlocks the trunk and passenger side door of his Shelby. I unlock my bike and stuff it in the trunk.

When I accidentally scratch the rear bumper, I wince, my face puckering. “Shoot.”

Dare doesn’t say anything but clutches his side.

“I should take you to the hospital,” I say. He did this for me, and I don’t want him to hurt anymore. “You may have internal injuries.”

“I don’t. Drive me home.”

I slip into the Shelby and crank the engine. It rumbles like a bronco bull being ridden. “I shouldn’t drive.” I turn on the car lights. The sun burns a deep orange on the horizon as it settles over Harley’s.

He slouches in the seat, his face crumpled in pain. “We don’t have a choice. I’ll go to jail if the cops catch me fighting again.”

I really shouldn’t be behind the wheel. “But it wasn’t your fault.”

“Go,” he rasps. “Just drive slow.”

I switch to first gear, and the car stalls. I try two more times, sweat mingling with worry of facing the cops.

“Put it in second,” he mumbles. “It’ll be easier.”

In second, I slowly pull out of the parking lot, and crawl along Highway 12. A car behind me swings around me to pass on a double yellow line. The driver gives me the one finger salute as he sails by.

The Shelby grumbles underneath me, threatening to eject me from the driver’s seat for driving too slow. The powerful engine begs to let all 335 horses run free.

Dare groans and slumps further down in the seat, gripping his side. A red and purple bruise swells on his jaw.

“You should turn here.” He points to the road leading to Roanoke Island and then onto Alligator Swamp where all my troubles started.

My hands shake. “I can’t. I don’t want to wreck your car.” It’s in perfect condition and worth easily over a hundred grand.

He straightens a bit and touches my thigh, causing me to veer off the road. Our eyes lock, embarrassing me.

He adjusts the wheel, chuckling. “You shouldn’t let me distract you, Teal.”

I glue my eyes on the road. “Sorry.”

“We’ll go slow,” he says. “Otherwise we have to go up to the next bridge, and that’s way out of our way. You’ll be fine.”

A few horns blare behind us.

I glance in the rearview mirror where cars stack up. “The people following us are already angry.”

“Just keep driving,” he says, leaning back in his seat. “You’re doing fine. Fuck them.” When his rakish grin curls up one end of his mouth, it’s quickly replaced by a grimace.

I’m driving ten miles per hour. People pass me like I’m standing still because I pretty much am. Every part of my body cries for me to pull over, get out, and take my bike home, but then I turn toward Dare who looks like he’s dying.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t take you to the ER?” I ask, my lower lip trembling.

His face pales. “I’ll be fine,” he rumbles. “You can go a little faster.”

“Not unless you want me to kill you. We could end up in the swamp.” Though a shiver works its way along my spine, I bump it up to twenty-five anyway. The line of cars behind me is growing into a traffic jam.

A cop car squeezes up behind me, and its lights and siren turn on. My hands instinctually death grip the steering wheel. I hate getting stopped.

“Dammit,” Dare mutters.

On Roanoke Island, I pull into a parking lot. Tate gets out of the car and ambles up to me.

He gives me an odd look. I hand him my driver’s license then lean across Dare to open his glove box where I’m assuming he stores his registration and insurance card. When my breast grazes his thigh, he sucks in a breath and clenches his jaw in pain. I give him an odd look, which elicits another snarl from him or a groan. I don’t know which.

Sheriff Tate leans down on the roof. “Miss Covington, you should not be driving in your condition. So why are you driving Darius’s car? You know that boy is no good for you. You should’ve gone through with the restraining order. Judge Kirkland would’ve granted it for you.”

“I’m driving Dare because he’s been drinking.” That’s true, and the rest is not his concern. “I never thought Dare had anything to do with that day, and Kirkland shouldn’t discuss my case with you.”

I give Tate a hard look, and he studies me, shakes his head, and leans closer to me, showing tobacco-stained teeth. His hot, oniony breath fogs my nose.

“So Dare’s been drinking.” Tate scratches the scruff on his chin. “Mr. Tucker, were you involved in the altercation at Harley’s? With your history, that sounds about right.”

Dare starts to speak but a groan escapes that I quickly speak over. “He was with me.”

“Are you sure, Teal? Darius doesn’t look too good, and lying to an officer is a serious offense.”

I’m not lying. “I know that. He was with me.”

Tate peers into the car. “Darius, if we catch you fighting again, it means jail time.”

“Yes, sir,” Dare croaks.

“Did you pull me over for a reason?” I ask in my sweetest voice. “Is a taillight out?”

Tate huffs. “You’re driving too dang slow. You got traffic piling up behind you. Haven’t you noticed?”

I think about the farm vehicles on the road and how slow they drive. “I didn’t realize that was against the law, and I’ve never driven such a pricey car.”

“It’s not on this road, but someone could rear end you. You have a good day, Miss Covington. Tucker, stay out of trouble.”

Dare nods. A tense smile slashes his handsome face.

“I’ll be careful.” I wait for Tate to get into his cruiser and pull out in front of me before I ease behind the long line of cars that has accumulated.

I don’t drive any faster. “You never used to fight. What happened to you, Dare?”

“You happened to me,” he barely gets out.

I don’t want to be the person who did this to him. I want back the sweet boy who gave me words of encouragement while we fished and gigged, the one I admired. “I’m sorry, Dare.”

He doesn’t admonish me for calling him Dare. “There’s nothing that can be done about it now.”

“We can do something.” I suck in a deep breath. “If you pull the court records, I can pay to have a copy of my testimony transcribed, and we can look at the evidence.”

He snorts out a laugh then winces. “It’s over. There’s no point going back through it. The DA made up his mind that I was guilty, so I might as well be.”

“Maybe it’s over for you, but it’s not for me.” I glance at him, pleading with my eyes. “And Dare. I know I can have you removed from the sexual offenders’ list and your record expunged. We just—”

His hand motions for me to stop. His brow creases from the pain caused by the blows. “Don’t. Just don’t. I’m over that. I don’t want to go there ever again.”

If only he’d let me help. “I have to go back there. Whether you’re with me or not.” It would just be easier with him.

After we cross the bridge and enter the swamp, my palms sweat and my breath quickens. I pull over, and tears fall. I shake so hard it appears as if my hands are having their own seizures. I hate it here. I want to move far away from all this, but then I think I want to get better. I have to find a way to make this work, even without his help.

As Dare adjusts in his seat, he clenches his strong jaw. His hand reaches for mine. His thumb rubs my palm.

“It’s okay,” he says in a low deep voice so different than the eleven-year-old I recall so well, the boy who once pulled out a fawn stuck in quicksand. He was so gentle with it. The mom bleated, pacing back and forth, crying for her baby. After he dragged the struggling baby from the muck, he washed off the grit from the fawn as best he could before letting it trot off to the mom.

“I can’t drive right now,” he starts. “Once I get some pain meds and you tape my ribs I can take you back, then we’ll both be out of each other’s hair.”

Tears build in my eyes, and a few drop. Will I ever be able to face my past? I glance at the swamp then quickly pull my gaze away. Just the sight of the trees makes my heart thrum.

“I know you don’t believe this.” Dare groans in between uneven breaths. “But you made it out alive. You’re tough, Teal, and you’ll get through this. It just has to be without me.”

I want to believe him because I have to be strong to face that day.