Page 101 of Ridin' Free
It’s safe now, baby. Come home.
My scalp tingled, sending a shiver down my back and goosebumps across my arms. I could hardly breathe as my chest grew congested with an emotion I couldn’t identify. It was greater than relief. Bigger than gratitude. More profound than forgiveness and louder than a declaration. The words on my phone grew blurry as my eyes welled with tears, and I didn’t try to silence the sob that burst out of me.
He wasn’t letting me go.
Not even a little.
Not by a long shot.
‘He’s gone. Buried in the ground with your secrets’
I read it again. And again. Then again.
With every pass of my eyes, the walls I’d managed to erect in my mind were leveled again.
Holy shit.
Benson Wright hadkilledfor me.
‘I got you, sparky. You’re safe.’
Slowly, as I continued to stare at the phone in my hand, a revelation sparked to life inside of me. The ember of it began to grow warm in my chest, and I swear I was beginning to understand what love felt like. And I wanted it.
As my tears continued to race down my face, I felt myself trembling. It wasn’t shock. It wasn’t anguish. It was a longing so pure, so visceral, I couldn’t deny it, run from it, or hide it. I wantedBenson.I wanted him more than anything—but the truth remained.
I couldn’t go home. Not like this. I couldn’t go backlike this.
I didn’t know if I could be Phoenix anymore, but the girl fighting inside of me—the woman too stubborn to be silenced, even in my weakened state—she was screaming.
Iwas screaming, begging to be set free.
I wanted to be Ali. Not the Ali-Mae I used to be, but Benson’s Ali.
‘Baby—you’re not a monster,you’re a fuckin’ warrior.’
I wasn’t nearly strong enough to claim the title of warrior—but I wanted to be.
For Ben, forme, for us, I wanted to try.
Ineededto try.
SIX DAYS LATER
If I was beinghonestwith myself—and I was trying to face each day with my eyes wide open, regardless of how much it hurt—I sort of hoped it would be harder to find them. Impossible would have been better. But Georgia was nothing if not predictable.
Or was it that I wasn’t as different from her as I thought?
I shook the thought away, not at all interested in entertaining it. Instead, I sat behind the wheel of my Bronco, parked at the back of the diner’s lot, and continued to wait.
I couldn’t exactly put into wordswhyI was in Colorado, I simply was aware I needed to be. It was a feeling, like I’d picked up a chain I noticed shackled around my ankle and, in order to free myself of it, I had to follow its length to the other end. I had to go back to the beginning—to the place where it all started. Theroot of my secrets, the seed of my shame, it was all tied to the woman I should have told twenty years ago.
It was getting late in the afternoon, and I knew she would be off soon. Or, at least, I assumed as much. It was around four o’clock the previous day when I watched her get into her car and head home for the evening. I followed her there—a run-down apartment complex the owners seemed uninterested in preserving for any great length of time. Except, rather than stop and confront her then, I found myself circling the block in avoidance. After my third trip around, I decided today would be better.
When she emerged from the restaurant, looking worn out from a long shift on her feet, I forced myself to open my door and step out of my vehicle. If I was going to do this, it was going to be here. Out in the open. As far away from Tommy as I could manage.
My heart was pounding upon my approach. I could hear my pulse as loudly as if the beat of it was being broadcasted through a loudspeaker; and yet, she didn’t notice me until we both arrived at her car.
Her eyes widened before she knit her eyebrows in confusion at the sight of me.
