Page 26 of Pit Stop

Nineteen

Tillman

As I walk away from Odette my heart pounds, but it’s different. It’s not out of fear like I’m used to. It’s not out of adrenaline although that is coursing through my veins. This pounding of my heart is different though. It’s almost as if for the first time in an incredibly long time I’m alive. Throughout my life, the cards I’ve been dealt, the life I have lived, they have all led me to become numb and a shell of the man I should be. Darkness consumes me, spilled blood taints my soul. You can’t outrun the type of demons and ghosts I’ve created with my misguided attempt on life. However, standing there with Odette… it’s like I felt something foreign, something new and exciting. Something real and good. The goodness she carries shines like a light. My darkness craves her light, to eat it up and swallow it whole.

I know very little about Odette’s life but it seems her cards haven’t exactly been dealt fairly either, yet she seems to have held onto the light within her soul. Fighting off darkness in a world like ours is a continued war but it’s one I lost long ago. She seems to have won hers… for now at least.

Her light almost overshadowed the bruises and cuts that marred the beautiful, fair skin on her body. However, nothing can truly take your eye off those types of things. The moment I could get a good look at the damage, the darkness within me took over and once again I felt like I didn’t do enough to avenge the damage done to her. As I head up the stairs to the room that Decker told me to take, I open and close my fists, attempting to work the soreness out of the muscles and bones. Fighting is sort of a talent for me although it’s the one I choose not to brag about. Most people don’t find the talent in being able to inflict pain, draw blood, and make someone beg for mercy, but there is a certain degree of talent to that. It’s barbaric but so is the world to a certain extent. You learn to defend yourself first and ask questions later. Someone needed to defend Odette and I did just that. Years of fighting against every single obstacle has worn my hands down and now they ache.

It’s been years since I’ve been in a fight. Aside from working out, I haven’t hit anything besides a punching bag since the first year I left Los Angeles. Adjusting to a different life led me down some rough paths. Some nights, when I actually had time off, I’d spend the evening in the bottom of a bottle, trying to drown my sorrows there. It never worked and when the demons and ghosts reappeared the anger set in, and my tongue lashed out with cruel words to get under someone’s skin and my fists flew on their own accord. Then I met Zeke and he could talk me down from the diving board that I’d jump off into the dark abyss that was my soul in those moments.

Years. It’s an odd idea that it’s been years since I had done anything like I had done last night. I don’t know Odette. I don’t know Lyle. What I do know is that seeing Odette lying on the couch unconscious, bruised, and bloody set a spark of fire off in my soul. The first spark of light in the darkness that I’d had in years. There was no way to control what happened next. I didn’t stop to think about it. Lyle needed to pay for what he had done. The boys in this hotel needed protection too. I had no doubt that someone like Lyle would turn around and press charges on them. Lyle was in the wrong and Slade was only doing what he needed to in order to help Onyx protect Odette. A courtroom and judge wouldn’t see that. Lyle had money and with that came a certain sense of power. Slade was a kid in the system. Overlooked, uncared for, and just another name on a file folder. He didn’t matter to them. He didn’t have money and being in the system already... well it’s easy for them to deem us as “troublesome”. One pinky toe over the line could mean an entire life of a kid in the system could come crashing down. Lyle could easily cause that for Slade. Odin too.

As I walk into the room, I notice my bags are sitting on the foot of the bed. I guess at some point Decker or one of the boys brought them in. I’m not sure if Decker knows or not, maybe he did it on purpose, but the room I’m standing in right now was my room back in my SK days. Not much has changed. The dark brown carpet is worn down and it has a pinkish tint to it from where the years of sunlight have bleached out the original color. Walls are in desperate need of paint. I had taken it upon myself to paint my walls black. Definitely not the best decision after seeing how it wears throughout the years. Faded, chipped, and scuffed up. The lighting fixture in the middle of the room is missing the cover altogether. Moonlight comes in through the window, but the curtains are drawn. They are completely worn through, just a thin piece of fabric hanging there keeping the outside world from me. After seeing the state of the room, I wonder if it’s safe to sleep on the bed. If the furniture is as worn as the rest of it then my guess is probably not.

I grab some sleep pants and head to the bathroom. I’m in need of a shower. My hands still have some blood stuck under the nails. Sweat from travelling and the entire Lyle situation coats my skin. When I flip the light switch the yellow light flickers a few times before finally staying steady. Once the shower is heated, I climb under the steady stream of water. I can’t help wondering ‘what in the world have I gotten myself into?’ This place has definitely seen better days. What Decker is trying to do is admirable, but I’m not sure it’s possible. After seeing what he has to work with, the state of the motel and whatnot, I’m not sure the gains outweigh the losses.

At the thought of losses, I picture my large walk-in shower with the waterfall showerhead. Man, I miss it already. The water could get scalding hot, steaming up the entire bathroom. Shaking my head, I release the idea of that shower. That life is not currently my life. This is. It’s going to be a lot of hard work, but it’ll be worth it. After meeting Slade and Bazz I know it is. I’m sure the other two need our help just as much plus something tells me that Odette is going to be around more.

As soon as her name pops into my mind, so does the image of her. All five feet of her with curves any racer would love. Her shoulder length hair is a dark brown with a slight wave and hazel eyes that hold bright flecks of gold within their depths. Her face reminds me of a porcelain doll my grandmother used to have. Rosey, round cheeks and plush lips she likes to purse to keep from smiling, afraid to show too many emotions. Freckles dance across her fair skin, over the bridge of her nose. Dark long eyelashes cascade out from her intensely intelligent eyes. She was a doll and didn’t even know it. A doll that I could stare at for hours, admire and enjoy the sight of, but just like that porcelain doll I couldn’t touch. I wouldn’t touch her. She can’t afford to be this type of broken. Odette was to be protected but not broken.

Exhaustion truly settles within my body once I get out of the shower. I run a towel through my hair a few times to remove some of the water before deciding to give the bed a try. It’s not a California King pillow top like I’m used to these days, but it’ll work. Carefully, I lower myself down. Taking my time to make sure it won’t cave under my weight. When it seems to be okay, I lie back and stare at the ceiling before drifting off to sleep with images of Odette in my mind, dancing behind my closed eyelids. Only now her skin is perfect just like my grandmother’s doll. A smile crosses my face as sleep finds me.

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