Finding Never (18 page)

“
Noah
made me kind of pissy, so forgive me if I'm feeling a bit
possessive.”

“
I'm
a woman,” I tell Ty with a stare that says
Yeah, I like you
where you are, but don't push it.
“Not a thing.”

“
And
what a beautiful woman you are,” Ty says and his bad boy charms
work in disarming my feminist retort. Fine. He can put his arm
around me. Whatever. My voting rights aren't at stake.

“
So
Noah … ” Ty begins. “He's kind of a douche.”

“
Tyson
McCabe,” I say and he cringes. “Just shut up and help me
find my revenge. I need it. It'll help fill up this gaping hole,”
I whisper as we pass by a group of stupid drunk country fucks. Ty
stops me just outside the entrance to the bar and spins me to face
him. He presses his ringed hand against the skin of my chest and
closes his eyes. When he opens them, they're burning with dark fire,
hot and sexy and absolutely deliciously deadly.

“
Baby,
I'll help you get your revenge, but trust me.” Ty leans in and
whispers in my ear, purposely nibbling on my chip earring with his
teeth. “All you need to fill that hole is me.” And then
he pulls away abruptly and drags me into the dark smoky interior of
the Broken Glass. I'm used to scenes like this; I've spent a very
good portion of my young adult life in bars like this, but I'm not
used to seeing the man of my nightmares bent over the bar with a
drink in hand. My heart starts to bounce with anxiety and my lips go
numb. I can't speak.

You
wrapped your hands around his throat, and you didn't even care that I
was watching, that you were burning me from the inside out, that with
every breath my father never got to take, my heart was breaking in
half, inch by inch. You ruined me; you ruined everything, and I want
to fucking kill you.

I
hold out my hand for a cigarette and find that Ty is already in the
process of slipping one into my mouth. He lights us both up and then
grabs my hand.

“
Do
you want to dance, Never?” he asks, giving me the most horrible
case of déjà vu
ever.
I stare into Ty's eyes,
and I can't move because I'm thinking all sorts of strange things
like,
Thank God it's you and not Rick. I'm not into guys like
Rick.
See, I was wrong before, oh so very wrong. I thought I
needed someone to put me on the straight and narrow, but all I really
needed was someone to take this crazy, fucked up ride with me, hug
the curves of life's road and hold my hand the whole way. That's
what I really needed. “This is your cue to say,
This is a
bar, not a club,
and call me a whore,” Ty whispers into my
ear as he pulls me into his arms and guides me to an empty space
between the old wooden tables. The fact that he remembers every
detail of our first meeting is not lost on me. I smile at him and
realize three things in that perfect second.

First,
Ty is a perfectly nice guy. He might not be as nice a guy as Rick or
Noah Scott, but that's okay because he's better that way, like coffee
without cream, a bitter bite that hits all the right spots.

Second,
he's the perfect fit to me, like that puzzle piece that was always
missing, the one that got kicked under the couch and is only showing
up now. It was meant to be there all along; I just hadn't found him
yet.

The
third thing is the most surprising. See, I had pegged Ty as a bad
boy which, in effect, is true. He is
bad.
He's got piercings
and tattoos and he cusses like a sailor and fucks like one, too, but
he isn't a monster. Ty is the kind of guy you can take home to your
family, show off, and know that at the end of the day, he'll be there
for you. I'm now totally into guys like Ty. I shouldn't be, but I
am. I think there's finally something going right with me. I don't
need
a guy like Ty to put me on the straight and narrow, to
help me stop doing the things I shouldn't be doing and start doing
the things I should, I just want him. By my side.
Forever.

I
close my eyes and let Ty swirl us around the dirty floor while the
people around us drink and smoke and stare, wondering what these two
crazy kids are doing slow dancing in the seediest bar in town. They
can all go to hell as far as I'm concerned.

“
Shame
you don't dance anymore,” Ty whispers as he pulls me close,
sways us back and forth with the twangy country music that's playing
too loudly in the background. “Because you're damn good at
it.”

“
What
would've happened if I had gone with you that night?” I whisper
to Ty as he wraps his fingers in my hair and sighs against my skin.
He can't get enough of me. He's always there touching, feeling,
loving me. I have never had this before, not with anyone, not even
with him. Noah Scott. “Would we have fucked and gone our
separate ways?” I wonder aloud, not wanting to ruin the moment
but needing to hear what he has to say about this. Don't ask why.
It's just one of those things.

“
I
don't think so,” Ty says back to me. “I mean, maybe we'd
have fucked, but once I had you, I wouldn't have wanted to let you
go.”

“
Liar.”

“
Nope,
sorry, Nev.” Ty stops dancing and grabs my face between his
hands. I love it when he does that. His cigarette is hanging from
his sexy lips, limp and crackling while his dark eyes burrow into me
and his body reacts to mine. I can feel his erection through his
pants, pressing into me, begging for another taste. “No lies,
remember? I'm dead fucking serious here. I am like, head over
friggin' heels, butterflies and puppies, hearts and fucking kitty
cats in love with you.” I try to turn away, but I'm smiling
and shaking at the same time. It's just one of those things.
“Seriously,” Ty says as he turns me back towards him. “I
am like a fucking Disney prince or some shit. Want me to sing for
you? I could sing.” I laugh and push away from him. This
night is supposed to be about revenge, about showing Luis some pain,
telling him how much he hurt me, hurt my sister, my family, and Ty
has turned it into a date. “Let's just blow this fucking joint
and forget about this sick son of a bitch,” Ty says as he
gestures at Luis' back.

“
I
want to,” I begin, but I can't get out anymore words. I want
to go with Ty, put this behind me, but until Luis knows that he hurt
me, that he hurt my sister, I can't just walk away. I just
can't.
If I do, this demon could come back later, gnaw at my heart and
break me. I have to deal with it now, while I have the chance. Ty
looks at my face for a moment, nods and then moves past me. It takes
me a second to realize what he's doing.

He
steps up to Luis, a vision of art and color with his tattoos lit from
within, fired up by the strange lighting above the bar, muscles
tense, bracelets jingling. He taps the big, burly man on the
shoulder and I have to hold back a rush of emotion as Luis turns and
I get my first look at his face for a long, long while.
They
chose
him
over me? How? Why?
I blink back my pity
party. I have to because I'm the only one attending. If I don't
leave now, I'll get stuck cleaning up the party and I've spent enough
years doing just that.

Luis
stares at Ty with his ugly, scruffy face. He has a wide, fat nose
with mismatched nostrils and droopy eyelids, fat lips like a pair of
earthworms, and a scowl that could curdle milk. My mother was
normally a fan of handsome, younger men. Until she met Luis. Why
him? I will never know. That is information I will never be privy
to and for that, I'm grateful. I don't need to understand her.

“
Are
you Luis Clark?” Ty asks him, pleasant as could be. Luis
sniffles and takes another sip of his beer.

“
Who
the fuck are you?” he asks him. Ty glances over at me as if to
say,
He's all yours,
but I can't bring myself to move forward.
If I do, I might kill him. I might rip Luis to shreds, tear him
apart physically so he can see what I went through emotionally. I do
not trust my own temper. Luis follows Ty's eyes and sees me. The
air thickens and my cigarette drops from my lips, hits the floor and
stays there. Nobody cares.

“
Holy
shit. Another Regali bitch,” Luis says, standing up. “I
can smell your kind from a mile away.” I remember the
Fuck
You
page from my now non-existent notebook. Just because I don't
want to dwell on the past doesn't mean I can't learn from it.

“
Fuck
you,” I say, and it feels so good that I find my chest
expanding. Adrenaline pumps through my blood, swells my chests,
makes my ears pound with the sound of a thousand drums. The music
pauses briefly between songs and there's this bit of silence as the
folks in the bar finally catch on that there's a problem. Misery
loves company, of course, so they all turn and stare and hope that my
life is worse than theirs. Thing is, it's not. Not anymore. “To
the man that killed my father in cold blood.” Luis stirs and
starts to move forward. Ty grabs his fat, hairy arm with strong,
sturdy fingers. “To the man that stole my life, who turned my
family against me. To the man that tried to rape my sister, his own
biological daughter, to you I say this.” I take a deep breath,
swallow my fear down and hope it helps staunch the bleeding of my
soul. “You are the last person on earth I want to show mercy
to, but the first person that has the pleasure of receiving it. You
will not be the cause of my pain, not anymore, and you will not
control me, directly or indirectly.” I close my eyes and tilt
my head back, just a bit, just enough that I feel this … this
something
wash over and consume me. In a good way, of course.
In a very, very good way.

“
What
the fuck are you babbling about?”

What
Luis says makes no difference to me, no fucking difference. I drop
my head and open my eyes.

“
To
you, the man whose life is darker even than my own, I say fuck you.
Fuck you and go to hell.” I grin and then realize that I've
forgotten something. “Oh, yeah, and if you ever come near my
family again, I will fucking chase you down and make you wish you
were dead.” Luis actually has the audacity to laugh at this
and jerks his arm away from Ty's grasp.

“
For
that, you little cunt, you are next. I'm going to hold you down and
– ”

Ty
steps in front of Luis, combat boots smashing into the floor with an
almost audible sound. I swear, the wood nearly cracks with the heat
of his passion. He looks at Luis for a moment and just when the big
man is about to swing, Ty punches him straight in the face with his
rings, sends him stumbling back where he smashes into the counter and
collapses to a bleeding heap on the floor next to the bar stools.
Nobody helps him up. Apparently, would-be rapists/ murderers garner
no sympathy here.

Ty
removes his cigarette from his lips and blows out a puff of smoke.

“
Don't
talk to my girl like that, bitch,” he says.

I
leave that bar a new woman.

26

Time
flies here. It's incredible. Days turn to weeks that are just one,
endless span of life, all of this fighting and making up, these
moments of just remembering to breathe. There are sweet, sharp
moments with Noah (who I haven't let go of yet but who I owe so much
to) and my family, hot, dark ones with Ty, and a whole lot of hurting
and healing. The process, I have come to understand, is not one that
can have a beginning and an end. It's something that's continuous,
forever being expanded upon. I can't just have this epiphany where
I'm all better again. That will never happen. What I can do is make
sure that each day is better than the last, and if it's not, I have
to figure out why, understand it, break it down. Ty makes that so
easy for me. He's the only thing that's remaining constant right
now, holding me in place while everything else spins around me. He
tucks my head under his chin at night, holds me and whispers sweet
words (or dirty ones) until I fall asleep. I feel more rested than I
have in years. No more crying at night, not for me.

“
You
do know that it's totally lame to put up a tree like four days before
Christmas?” I tell Beth as we scramble to get the lights on, so
the little girls can start hanging ornaments. Zella, whose phone
calls I've been avoiding like the plague, says that if the
decorations aren't up by the time she gets here then she's going to
turn around and head straight back to Texas. I want to talk to her,
I really do, but I want to wait until I can see her face. More than
ever I believe that most of communication takes place through body
language, and I'm afraid that if Zella and I can't look into one
another's eyes, that something might get lost in translation.

“
I
didn't see you doing anything about it before now,” Beth says
around a light bulb. She's stuck it between her teeth and is trying
to wrestle a broken one out of the strand. The strand is winning.