Page 9 of Full Throttled

“Good night,” I tell him, as he heads back down the hallway. I shut the door and lock it. Wilder seems harmless, but I’ve learned to not be the naïve girl I once was. Things are rarely what they seem. I sigh and cross the room and stand next to the bed. I’m not surprised to see the green plaid bedding. It was always Drake’s favorite color. The room is neat and tidy; just how I remember his room being at his parent’s house. The chest of drawers and desk is clear of clutter. I reach over and turn on the lamp on the bedside table. His discarded iPod is lying on the nightstand. The charger is wrapped up and lying beside it. I decide to go ahead and plug it in.

I could use a shower, but I don’t have any soap or shampoo. I step out of the room and look around, but I don’t see anyone. I decide to go and take a peak in the bathroom. Maybe, someone has left some here. I knock on the door and open it just a tad. It’sempty. Iturn on the light and pull the shower curtain back. There is a slew of shampoos, conditioners, and soaps. I sigh in relief and rush back to Drake’s room and grab a t-shirt and leggings from my bag and rush back to the bathroom.

I lock the door and start the shower, thankful when the water turns hot. There’s a tube of discarded toothpaste lying on the bathroom counter. Grabbing the tube, I squirt some onto my finger and do the best to brush my teeth, at this point anything is better than nothing. I climb into the steaming, hot shower and allow the water to work the stiffness from being in the car out of my muscles. The last few days hit me like a tidal wave and I allow myself this time to fully let my decision and the events of the past few days sink in. It doesn’t take as long as I would assume. I had basically already come to terms with the fact of leaving Gregg and what little life we had built behind. I think subconsciously I always knew I’d have to leave. I knew the end for us was inevitable even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself until the moment I walked and saw my suspicions confirmed.

I don’t think leaving my life behind is what has caused me to feel so heavy inside my body. It’s walking back into my past. It’s finding out that my father is gone. My room being destroyed. Drake looking the same yet, so different at the same time. I don’t think I expected the world here to change in my absence which was foolish.

Some little girl version that lives inside of myself had always hoped to mend the relationship with my father. I had hoped that one day we could have an actual discussion and he would see I wasn’t like my mother, the woman he loved to compare me too. I knew he was hurting and lashing out at me was his way of coping. It was wrong, but people that are hurt often handle things in a wrong manner. I had this childish dream that we would apologize and he’d hug me. Now, that will never happen and I feel like something has been yanked from my body, from my grasp, something that I deserved to have, but never will.

Seeing my room so demolished yanked at my heart with razor sharp claws. I know that Zayde did it. There isn’t a question in my mind. I don’t know what even brought him to that decision, but I know him well enough to know that his anger often overpowers all his sense. He’s always been a tad hot headed, okay a lot hot headed. I had hoped it had simmered down, but seeing the state of my room I’m certain it hasn’t. I can’t say that I blame him, though. We had made a pact when we were much younger, after our mother left, to never abandon one another. I broke that pact. I hurt him and his way of dealing is to lash out in anger. I don’t blame him, I blame myself. It’s my fault and I hate that I hurt him. Until Drake, he was my only protector, friend and person to rely on.

Drake, I think with a sigh. Drake was so much in such a short time in my life. He walked into my life and soul with his good boy, southern charm and dimpled smile. He imprinted himself inside of me without either of us knowing. It wasn’t until I had to truly let him go that I realized how much I missed him and just how important he had become in my life. Drake is different now. Life has changed him. He looks different with all the tattoos and I won’t deny that they look damn good on him. My mouth may have watered a little and my heart definitely took notice but it’s the guarded look in his eye that makes me want to know what happened to him after I left. The last thing I expected was to come back and find him as an actual member of the Sons of Sin. I thought he might race because of his family, but I didn’t really expect to see him so tied up in the club.

When he held me, it felt so familiar, that it only made me cry. The ache I had always felt for him was more intense than I could have expected and it left with this gaping hole to fill. I fear though that he’s the only one that can fill it. I have my doubts about him ever trusting me though. I don’t even know where to begin in order to fix the mess I left behind when I ran away.

The water starts to cool so I step out of the shower and slip the clothes on before pulling my damp hair back into a messy bun. I make my way back to Drake’s room. Tomorrow I’ll have to find a job and call the college to ask if there is any way I can finish my degree online. Hopefully, it’s not too late in the semester for that. I also need to call my jobs back in Mississippi to let them know I won’t be there.

My mind is sleepy and restless, but my eyes start to feel heavy. I lie back on Drake’s bed and his familiar scent, even as faint as it is, comforts me. I roll over while going through my plans for tomorrow. As I drift off, I swear I hear Drake’s voice outside of the door and even a faint tap, but I’m too tired to really comprehend as I let sleep take me.

Eight

Drake

My heart is racing like I just crossed the finish line at a race. I don’t know how else to explain this or even why. I mean, yes, Zoey used to be everything to me, my hopes and dreams. I used to love her, but my life is different now. I’m different now. I have the biggest blessing and responsibility I could ever ask for. My life has had its obstacles and let downs, but I wouldn’t change it. I wouldn’t even change the way things happened with Zoey and I because if I did, that would mean Aubree would be different and I would never want that.

I head out of the clubhouse and glance back to the white Dodge Neon sitting there. The car is definitely on its last leg. It’s only got one hubcap and I’m surprised the tires are still going. They are rough. I open the driver’s side door and see that the car’s interior is as bad as the exterior. Cigarette holes are burned just about everywhere inside. There’s a crack in the windshield and the rearview mirror is missing. The key is still in the ignition which I find strange. I climb inside and pull it out, planning on taking it back inside to Zoey but the key doesn’t come out. When I start the car, it dings and I look at the indicator lights to see it’s basically out of gas.

I climb out of the car, cursing like a sailor. This didn’t have to be Zoey’s life. Yes, her dad was horrible to her, but she could have had a much better life here even dealing with his verbal lashings. She shouldn’t have a piece of shit car with barely any gas. She shouldn’t have lost the light in her eyes. For a brief moment, I blame myself because I should have saved her. It’s what I did. It’s how our friendship worked. I saved her every time, but Ididn't thisone time. I didn’t swoop in with my cape and save her and look at how her life has been. I can’t avoid that sinking feeling in my gut that tells me this is only the tip of the iceberg of what her life has been like since she left here.

I check in the bed of my truck before I climb in and start it up. I head back into town and pull into the first gas station I find. I fill up thegascan before driving back to the clubhouse and depositing the gas into Zoey’s car. It’s all I can do right now. I’d fix the whole car if it was worth it, but I know it’s not. Without a second thought, I head back inside, apology thick on my tongue. I owe Zoey an apology for not coming to save her. Being faced with this situation now, seeing the harsh reality that she has been calling her life creates a wave of guilt within me.

I knock on my door, but the room is quiet. I call her name, but it’s more of a whisper because my throat is thick with emotion. She never answers, so eventually, I turn around and leave. Once I’m back in my truck, I quickly dial my mom’s number. “Hey Honey, everything okay?” my mom answers.

I clear my throat. “Yeah, I’m on my way to grab Aubree. I’m sorry you had to keep her so long.”

“Sweetheart, don’t you dare apologize for that. You know I’m always more than happy to have her here. Besides, her and Dawsyn made cookies and watched a movie,” my mom explains.

“A Nightmare Before Christmas?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

My mom laughs. “Yes, of course.”

“Well, I’ll be there shortly.” I hang up the phone and roll the windows down. I need the fresh air to clear my head. Too many memories and now new images are filling up the quiet space. My mind is thinking of every possible thing that could have happened to Zoey since she left. I know it’s crazy, but I can’t stop the movie-like reel rolling around in my head. I know I need to call Zayde, but I also just need a minute to process myself.

My parent’s house comes into view and I pull up along the sidewalk. The house never changes much. The single story, white sided house with two steps leading up to the small porch and teal front door, a color that Annie James, my dad anduncle'slate mother picked. The big tree in the front yard just keeps growing, giving more and more shade from the beating sun. Brick planter boxes full of every color of daisy still line both sides of the house in front. A couple of years ago, my dad, uncles, and myself along with Zayde and mostof the guys involved in the Sons of Sinall helped gut the inside to update it. It’s like a whole new place once you step through the front door, but the outside is always how I remember it.

The front door opens before I climb out of the truck. My mom is standing there with a smile on her face and her blonde hair, at the moment anyways, her and my aunt Hollis are constantly changing their hair color, pulled back from her face. As I approach, she opens the screen door. “Hey sweetheart.” She pulls me into her arms and I hug her back. Sometimes even a grown man just needs a hug from his mom. She pulls away from me. “Your dad is in the back.” How does she do that? How does she know what I need before I do? “Call it mom’s intuition.”

“What about Aburee?” I ask.

My mom waves her hand in dismissal. “She’s asleep in her room. Go talk to your dad,” she tells me.

I nod and head down the hallway to the back door, but not before I stop at the bedroom door that has belonged to each and every member of the family at some point, that now belongs to Aubree. I open the door just enough for me to look in and see my little girl sound asleep. I close the door back and continue out to the storage unit that we added to the backyard to make a new place to work on car projects. As I approach my dad, Axell, stands up and wipes his hands clean on a rag. “Hey Son,” he tells me.

“Hey, Dad.” I see the look in his eye that tells me he already knows about the Zoey situation. “Mom told you?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, of course.”

“And that’s why you’re conveniently out here working on the car.”

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