Trace

5 - By the moonlit lake

Fallon

Trace rides us to a quiet spot in the woods on the outskirts of town. It seems odd that he’d ride his motorcycle into the woods in the middle of the night. Maybe I should be scared in case he’s all set to rape and murder me, then bury me in the woods where a dog walker will one day find my rotting body. However, I’m not. I don’t get that feeling from this man. Besides, I’d break his fuckin.g neck if he tried to hurt me like that! I am not a weak woman, physically, at least.

A man like Brick?

Yes. I used to get the feeling that he wanted to take me without my permission a lot. However, Trace doesn’t seem like he’d hurt me like that.

I know that’s weird when this man could be – no doubt is – a murderer, a violent thug, and here I am sitting with him on the embankment next to the lake at the edge of the woods, in the moonlight, which is so bright thanks to its reflection on the water.

I didn’t even know this place existed. It’s beautiful in the moonlight. It reminds me of myself, all alone in the middle of thousands of trees, constantly blowing in the breeze, the odd leaf falling and touching the water once in a while but never staying long enough to form a bond with anyone or anything. The only constant is the bolder rock in the middle of the lake. However, even that can be ripped out by a crane at any moment. But above all else, the lake has no one and nothing to rely on but itself — a lot like me.

I have people all around me, though none ever get too close. Some stay for a moment or two, but then they’re gone. No one ever stays for long — not my mother, father, or even my big brother. To be alone in the world with no one to care what happens to you is harder than I would like to admit.

It would be easy for me to say that I love living alone. I have no one to answer to for anything. I can do what I want when I want. But then I see others with their huge families, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, and friends, and I wonder why I wasn’t blessed with that.

My only friend – because I don’t let anyone close enough to be my friend – is Ginger Ross. A girl I made friends with at the trailer park when I first got there, the only friend Scott was okay with me having.

I say she’s my friend, but we haven’t had much of a friendship since Scott was taken from me. Ginger was in love with my brother, but he never looked twice at her. Not in that way, at least. She’s my age, so in Scott’s mind, Ginger was too young, more like a sister. She thought she could return if she worked hard at school and got a little older, and he’d fall in love with her. Who knows, maybe that might have happened. We’ll never know now.

Ginger won a scholarship to Tennessee Tech a couple of years ago, or at least that’s what she told everyone. She was heartbroken over Scott and just wanted out. The truth of it all was that her rich sugar daddy paid for her tuition.

We fought about it. I wanted to know where she’d met this man and why she was sleeping with him when he was nothing more than a pervert.

How could she latch on to a man three times her age and let him pay for what she’d sworn she’d worked for?

I didn’t want to think about all Ginger had done for him to pay for her education. I also didn’t mean to sound nasty, but I was worried about her.

Ginger was so angry that she threw Scott in my face and said it was my fault that he ended up how he is now. It hurt me so badly because she was right; it was all my fault. Nothing I ever do in this life now will change that fact.

Ginger left for school, and I didn’t hear from her for an entire year. That’s when she began writing to me, wanting to reconnect because she missed me. I would be a liar if I said I hadn’t missed Ginger. We text now and again, but that’s about as far as it goes. I’m unsure what I’d say to her if we spoke.

I still feel like somewhere inside Ginger, there’s hate for me that hasn’t gone away. She still blames me for what happened to Scott. I don’t blame her, but I don’t want to hear it in her voice should we speak. I hate myself enough, and that’s why I keep people at arm’s length, why I sent the only other blood relation I have away. If they don’t get close, they can’t hurt me, and I cannot hurt them.

The only thing I need in this life now is Scott’s dog, Duke. A dog can’t have a conversation. A dog can’t tell you how much you’ve hurt it by taking its master away. Even though I see hurt in that dog’s eyes every time, he looks out the window, looking for Scott, still to this day.

“You seem, miles away.”

“Huh?” I turn to look at the man beside me. He’s watching me, scanning me. I smile slightly because his eyes captivate me. I’ve never seen such pretty hazel-gray eyes before. “Sorry. I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“Life and how short it really is.”

“Weird thing to be thinking right now.”

“Yeah, well,” I turn my gaze back to the lake and the reflection of the moon shining on it. “I thought you of all people, and how you live your life would’ve understood.” I wrap my arms around my knees and bring them against my chest.

“I do understand. Believe me. That’s why I cherish my family, both MC and blood. I cherish every day that I’m still here to love them.”

“Some of us don’t have that luxury,” I tell him quietly.

I close my eyes for a second and breathe in the fresh lake air. It’s a beautifully warm night. I haven’t seen a night like this in a long time. So peaceful and quiet. It’s rather relaxing.

“You don’t have a family?” The way Trace asks that question isn’t sarcastic or patronizing. It’s genuine.

“I have a brother.” That wasn’t so hard. I don’t usually talk about Scott, and I’m not technically doing that, but I guess I would tell Trace if he asked.

“Good. For a second there, I thought you were gonna tell me you were all alone in the world.” He chuckles while throwing a rock into the lake. It skims the water perfectly four times, rippling the water.

I watch the ripples disappear before telling him, “I am.”

“What? Fallon?” I sense Trace turn to me, but I don’t look at him.

Why the hell am I telling him anything?

I don’t even know him, yet I feel strangely at ease with him. Like he won’t judge me for the things I’ve done, especially when he’s done far worse than I ever could.

“All my life, I’ve only had my big brother to give a damn about me. Mom threw Dad out when I was a baby, or so I was told. Then she upped and left Scott and me a couple of years later. We went into the system. We were passed around like toys for years.

“When I was fourteen, Scott abducted me. We went on the run,” I’ve never told anyone this stuff, but it seems to be falling from my mouth, and I don’t feel the need to stop. “Scott told me that we’d find Dad, and he’d take care of us. We ended up here.” I take a deep breath. “Scott found a job with an MC and got us a place to live.”

“An MC?”

“Yeah,” I tell him. “My brother joined Satan’s Cutthroat.”

“I see.”

“You know of them?”

“We’ve done business with them. If you know what I mean.”

I nod slightly. The way he said that tells me their interaction hadn’t been good, or maybe he just doesn’t like them. I mean, this is Snakes Henchmen territory. Everyone knows that.

It wasn’t always that way. The town of Bellview is small but not far from bigger towns. However, this town, until six months ago, belonged to Satan’s Cutthroat. I don’t know much of how they were driven out or why the Snakes took over when they’re from Bardsville, the town over, only that the whole town is glad the Cutthroats are gone.

In the time since my brother was gunned down, the MC he once belonged to went postal. They began trafficking drugs, people, and porn. This town was not the kind of place any respectable man would allow his daughters to grow up.

Since the Snakes took over, they’ve cleaned through the place and made sure everyone knows what happens if you cross them. No drugs and no trafficking of any kind. It feels like a safer place to live. It’s much quieter anyway.

“My brother was shot down three years ago. He’s been on life support ever since with no hope of ever recovering.”

“Oh, Fallon. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be, it happened, and there’s nothing I can do about it now. I just have to deal with the fact my brother is never coming back. I’ve forced him to live this long because I wanted to find our father so he could see what happened because he left us.”

Angrily, I wipe the frustrated tears from my eyes. This shi.t shouldn’t matter; I shouldn’t care about my father. But Scott loved him and wanted nothing more than to bring us all together.

Scott believed that our father loved us, and he told me that he remembered vividly the times when our father tried to take him from our mother. He remembered Dad yelling at Scott, never to forget how much Daddy loved us.

Mom moved us away after that. A couple of years later, we were all alone.

If Mom didn’t want us, why didn’t she give us to our dad?

I will never understand why she was so fuckin.g selfish!

“Scott found him, our dad. He told me the day he was shot. Scott was so happy, but he had to rush off to the clubhouse before he could give me details. He said he’d tell me everything when he got home that night.

“The only thing he told me before he ran off was that Dad was a biker like him. It was in his blood, he said, and that Caldwell really was our surname, not the one Mom made up. Then Scott was gone.”

“Have you tried to find your mother? Get some answers outta her?”

“She died, Trace.” I turn my face towards him. “Stupid bitc.h OD’d years ago. Good riddance to her.”

“And your father? What MC did he belong to?”

I sigh to myself. “I don’t know. I don’t know his name, what club he belongs to, where he lives, nothing. Scott never got the chance to tell me. I don’t even know if Caldwell is my mother’s or father’s name.”

Why didn’t I push Scott to tell me?

If I had, I would have found the man who walked away from us all those years ago, and he’d be sharing this grief with me.

“Your I.D. didn’t say Caldwell.”

“I don’t go by it. It reminds me just how unwanted I have always been.” I lower my head and squeeze my eyes shut. I won’t cry anymore in front of this stranger; my tears are mine alone. I’ll set them free at home with Duke, my brother’s massive Irish wolfhound.

“Look at me, beautiful,” I do. I lift my head and look at Trace. My eyes close involuntarily as he slides his hand to my cheek. I have to stifle a groan. I shouldn’t feel like this, but I can’t seem to stop it. “I’m so sorry about your brother. If there’s anything I can do, just ask. Okay?”

Anything?

There is only one thing I want, and I know this man can give it to me. I’m not a shy person; if I want something, I ask for it. Because if you don’t ask, you don’t get.

“There is one thing you can do for me right now.”

“What’s that?”

I want him so much right now, even after all that personal talk. I want him to take all of this away, even if just for a little while. I want him to take control of my body so I can lose my mind of all thoughts.

“Kiss me.”