penance. a love story (The Böhme Series) (9 page)

“Yep, the bookstore,” I said
. “But it was fun hanging out with you.” I brought my thoughts back to evading this guy. I needed to find my friends.

He lowered his head, “Yeah, maybe I will see you around sometime
.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me back in for a kiss. He had slight stubble that rubbed against my cheek as I turned it toward him, and I tried to give him a smile, but it was difficult. He was a number and I didn’t owe him nor did him me.

My parents preached that sex before marriage was an everlasting sin. If I committed the sin, an eternity in hell awaited me. With the fear of god instilled in me at a young age, I believed them. Since I began this path, I started to wonder if they were right. The last couple years have spearheaded it right into the limelight. I was living in damnation for what I did. My choices were a living hell from which there was no escape.

I once thought a carefree life is what I wanted. But now casual sex fulfilled a need. I couldn’t have a connection. I needed to feed my addiction. The act wasn’t the addiction, but the hollowness it left in me was. I needed the numbness it brought. As a junkie searches for the abandonment drugs give, I sought sex. I needed to be emptied.

I removed his hand from my forearm and continued into Henley’s. I found Gabe, Toby, and Maggie standing at the bar where we sat earlier. The stranger’s friend sat with them and let out a boisterous laugh at something Gabe said. I smiled as I watched the interaction between them.

When I approached, Gabe clapped his hands, abandoning his conversation, “There you are,” he said as he pulled me in and kissed my cheek. Though he had consumed many drinks, I assumed a kiss was to be expected from him. “Hannah, I want you to meet my friend Blake. Blake Lawson,” he said as he waved his hand toward the man that was standing next to him.

Blake stepped up from leaning on the counter and put his hand toward me and I took
it to shake. “Nice to meet you,” he said and started to pull my hand up to kiss it and I pulled it out of his grasp.

“Do you think that move works?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

He laughed a deep baritone laugh as he leaned back against the bar, “Most times it does, yes,” he said, giving me eyes that said he was studying me, but not for his own reference. He looked as if he were calculating my actions to evaluate me for a project.

“Well, it won't work on me
,” I said as I looked over at the door and saw that Twenty-Six had followed. I grabbed hold of Gabe and leaned into him, rubbing my nose on his ear. “Gabe, put your hand my hip, please.”

Gabe looked at me and obliged as he saw who I assumed was the guy over my shoulder. “Oh, okay. The sailor boy is old news now? I can take care of that
.” He traced his hand across my hip and pulled me in as he kissed me, and the depth of it shocked me to my toes. He gave me the first kiss I had in years and my eyes were huge in response. I wasn’t expecting such a display from him, but I guess he didn’t want to half-ass it. Only two guys had kissed me before and now Gabe was my third. He pulled away from me and whispering in my ear, he slapped my butt, “He’s gone,” he said with a smile, and turned to order more drinks.

Maggie laughed so loud it drew several looks and Toby tightened his arm around her shoulder. “Your face, Hannah, was priceless
,” Maggie said, pointing at me with her drink.

I looked over at Blake who had a lazy drunken grin spreading. He winked at my confusion.

“What was that, Gabe?” I asked.

He turned back to me, “Well, I may prefer men, but that doesn’t mean I can’t kiss a woman or even have sex with her for that matter. I’m easy going. I will try whatever you throw at me, but
usually just once. Unless I enjoy it,” he said with a laugh that pulled a laugh from everyone but Toby. He chose to turn away as if more interesting topics existed across the room.

I shuddered at the remembrance of once having the same philosophy. Gabe was everything I once wanted to be, but didn't become. It morphed into hooking up with random men to eat away at my guilt. But Gabe got it right because he wanted intimate connections with those he loved. The experience wasn’t his end game. He wanted to meet people for who they were at their core. He held an instant love that many begged to receive.

Our drinks were set on the bar in front of us, beers for Blake, Gabe and Toby, and stone sours for Maggie and me. That order continued for us for another hour before I dropped my guard and began to speak with Blake.

“Your biker friend, the guy with the tattoos,
what's his story.” I asked as I leaned on the bar next to him.

He was toying with his beer bottle with a raised eyebrow to watch me and gage the proper response, “What do you mean his
story
?” he asked as he leaned his arm on the bar and watched me with knowing eyes.

“I mean, I have seen him twice today, in different locations and I found him interesting and I don’t find many people interesting
,” I said as I rested my head on my hand.

He
smiled at me. “I see that,” Blake said as he looked toward Twenty-Six, who was now talking to a group of girls on the dance floor.

I tilted a fake hat at him in response. “But in seriousness, he holds something in his eyes that makes me wonder where that depth formed
.” I regretted saying it as soon as the words left my lips. The alcohol was making me drop my guard. I told myself two years ago the emotions I deserved to live with were guilt, numbness, and emptiness. I could not become a dreamy eyed vixen waiting for Mr. Right. I tried to make light of my statement, “Damn, dude, I am
drunk
.” I let out a loud laugh to drive the idea home to the room around me.

He laughed, and traced my back with his fingers before he rubbed up to the base of my neck. He gave my neck a tender squeeze and leaned in to speak in my ear, “No you’re right, Wynn is different. But he shares your
lack of interest in people too,” he said as he let go of me and leaned back in his spot, looking at me with an understanding I hadn’t realized he possessed. “He’s my best friend, but he’s the most broken guy I have ever met.”

Then that was the last of what Blake said on it as he turned toward Toby and they started discussing a MMA fight they both watched last weekend.
Wynn
. His name is Wynn. I kept hearing his unique name in my mind and it kept interweaving with those eyes that watched me in the alley. I should be uncomfortable by his voyeurism, but it left me with a rush of emotions I should dismiss.

Blake labeled him as broken. I understood broken. To people who hadn’t experienced sorrow in their lives brokenness was a vast wasteland they could never understand. They saw brokenness as if it were an animal at the zoo. They could see it, hear it, but never experience it in its natural habitat. It wasn’t tangible to them. They didn’t understand what life meant for those in that cage. Wynn experienced it and he
was
brokenness. I did more than understand that, I lived it. 

“Last call!” The bartender yelled, causing me to jump. I looked over at Maggie sleeping on Gabe’s shoulder as he tried to pay attention to Toby and Blake’s conversation. I took my cell from my pocket and saw the time was three-fifty in the morning.

“Oh shit, I have to work in eight hours. I need to get home,” I said to the guys. I stood from the stool and realized how much the stone sours had affected me. I always loved the contradicting effect the vitamin C from the orange juice had to the amaretto. Those drinks were evil little fuckers. They annihilate you if you don’t pay attention.

Blake and Toby both jumped up to balance me. I looked between the two of them and smiled at Gabe with Maggie lying on his shoulder.

“Gabe will you escort me home, please?”

He smiled as he lifted Maggie from his shoulder and passed her over to Toby. He stood and took my arm. “Thank you
,” I said and appreciated his smile in response.

“I can drive you guys home if you want
,” Blake suggested.

“No, you aren’t driving anywhere
,” Gabe said as he flung his hand in the air in dismissal, and patted Blake’s cheek. I noticed as the night went on he started playing a role. In my drunken state I wondered if that was another likeness we shared. Maggie saw that I was more
open
with men now, but I didn’t think she knew how much. Gabe and I both had parts we chose to play.

“Okay, okay. Everyone's walking
,” Toby declared. He carried a passed out Maggie on his back and I wondered how he managed to get her on there. He was the least drunk one of the bunch, I figured.

“I want to get home
.” Blake gave a crooked smile.

“No
,” I responded in haste, remembering what Gabe had said. “There is no way you can drive. I don't care where you want to go. You’re either walking the two blocks to our place, or you’re going to call yourself a friend or a cab.”

“Okay, we will go to your place
,” Blake agreed. He gave me a flirtatious smile.

“Not for that, Blake
,” I said, pointing at him and started to tip over, falling into him. Gabe held onto my arm to steady me as we began our walk toward my apartment.

The half an hour walk home consisted of me singing
Bohemian Rhapsody
, while Blake and Gabe took turns balancing me and keeping me from taking my song and dance into the middle of the street. The walk became twice as long due to my Broadway revival. I invited Blake and Gabe in as Toby and Maggie made their way to her room and shut the door.

“That was fun
,” I said walking into the kitchen. I looked in the fridge and it wasn’t that I was hungry. It was a mindless habit that I used to fill the awkward void. The two men took their seats on the couch and watched me as I paced around the kitchen trying to decide what to do with myself. I was in complete exhaustion, but still running on the high of partying. Drinking was not something I did often. I always liked to keep my head on straight, so that only added to my confusion in the moment. My lack of control was disconcerting.

The drinking made my decision to sleep with a random guy feel rational though. It was two years since I started this and no matter how much time passes, nothing will keep me from my path. Time is interesting. It resists our wish to stand still and traps us in continual motion. One event defines our future. Through the filter of our past mistakes, future choices form. It moves forward without caring and takes pleasure in replaying memories that it won’t allow to change. But I was tricking time because I found a way to make the pain more bearable.

What I did was unforgivable. But I chose to use my remaining time on Earth seeking absolution. I would show my sister what I was doing for her. Her pain was now mine.

I took a seat at the kitchen table and stared at the pale plum color of our walls. In my drunken state the memories were no longer held inside my walls. They were dragging me with them and my mind was dropping the curtains and the feelings I locked away were surfacing.

I looked toward the living room and knew that if I didn’t keep it together the guys in the other room might find me crazy or come in here to try to comfort me. I hoped it wasn’t the latter. Crazy looks were better than helpless ones. I didn’t want their pity.

I tried to push thoughts of that night away. I didn’t want to remember how the sky looked or
how the wet grass clippings sticking to my bare feet felt. The harder I fought, the faster flashes came to mind. Grass clippings now haunt me. They reflect the endless clinging of memories that I cannot brush off me.

I closed my eyes and saw the full moon and eerie gray blue sky over the fields. Life was a shadow of reality when the sky held that color and light. I tried to convince myself while I sat in my kitchen that those memories were that—a shadow. They weren’t real, they never happened.

I dug my palms into my eyes and tried to forget. It was a pointless act as the tears began to form in my chest. They were the hardest tears to bear. They willed their way up to my eyes and I tried to push them back, but they were too strong. Not even the moan held in by my clenched lips contained them.

I didn’t want to remember the feel of my bare feet running across wet grass in the evening. I didn’t want to remember yelling for her to come back,
without a response. I didn’t want to remember the truth of it and as I laid my head on the table, the last vision I had was the memory of her empty eyes as the curtain pulled back and showed me the memories I hid.

I woke the next morning in my bed and flashes of the night before came to me, but the details lost to brain fog. I rolled onto my stomach and the result of last night pounded through my head. I blinked my eyes to adjust to the sunlight, they were sandpaper and I groaned in pain. After rubbing them enough to create moisture, I realized someone was lying on my bed behind me. I was afraid to see who it was. Had Blake and Gabe stayed the night? In a slow turn I started to roll to my back. My head throbbed at the movement, but I was thankful to find Gabe sleeping behind me. A smile formed on his face and with eyes still closed he said, “Morning, dear heart.”

“Morning?” I said with a hoarse voice as if I had been crying.
Crying.
Sandpaper eyes, hoarse throat.
Shit.
I pulled my hands into my chest as I lay on my side and watched the thoughts dance across Gabe’s face.