Page 14 of Sac-rifice (RBMC: Cleveland, Ohio Chapter #7)

DREAMS BECOME REALITY

COR

M y body ached and shivered as drops of cold danced along my skin. I pulled at the blanket, but it wasn’t giving. Not even an inch moved from its original spot. My hands slipped off the slick surface and I stuck my tongue out in disgust.

“Why are your sheets wet, Shane?” I said, not hiding how truly nasty I thought it was for his blankets to feel like this.

There was no excuse for something being this nasty.

This wasn’t the stone age. His house had electricity, and he was fully capable of operating a washer and dryer.

Usually, he kept an extra blanket on the foot of his bed for occasions like this—the nights I snuck through his window and climbed into bed with him.

My mom didn’t care enough about Isaac or me to keep tabs on us, and Shane’s parents acted like they didn’t know I was lying when I told them I’d only just arrived as we all sat down at their table for breakfast.

“Shane?” I repeated his name a little louder. Why wasn’t he answering? I gasped for air, wondering why my windpipe suddenly felt like it was the size of one of those cheap tiny yellow straws that came glued to the front of the silver juice pouches.

“Shane!” I screamed his name and my eyelids shot open. I dreamed of Shane more often than anything else on this planet. Every time I did, I cursed the world for being so incredibly heartless.

I blinked and then rubbed the sleep from my eyes, looking around as realization settled into my body.

I wasn’t a sixteen-year-old girl who had just crawled through Shane’s window anymore.

I was a grown woman who had dreamed of something that had happened what seemed like a lifetime ago.

I wished Shane’s warm bed was where I found myself when I woke up.

That would have been a lot more welcoming than lying on the damp grass with a handful of slimy leaves I must have scooped from under the bush I still hid behind while trying to wait out Shane’s relentless search for me.

He rode his stupid motorcycle past me a thousand times, and every time he drove by, my heart broke all over again.

Hiding from him was pure torture, but I kept my wits about me.

He was about fifteen years too late for some grand apology if that was what he was planning.

I didn’t want to hear how sorry he was, but most of all, I didn’t want his pity.

No one kept him from me. If that were the case, I would have forgiven him.

I didn’t care that he was a murderer and a prime candidate to start a support group for leather cult survivors.

It wouldn’t matter how many years had separated us if there had been even one good reason that divided all of us.

But the harsh truth was there was only one thing that stood between us, and that was his choice to not show up.

His choice to forget me. So, I told myself I would forget him, too.

I hadn’t really been all that successful at pushing him from my mind, but when I promised myself I would do that, I didn’t know how insanely flipping difficult it was to let a big part of me die.

People often spoke of grief and loss, but what I didn’t hear a single person talk about was having those feelings for yourself.

Really, I was as na?ve as everyone else on this stupid rock called Earth.

It took me years to place the feelings, to actually give them a name, and it was only then that I began to heal.

I had been grieving the person I was and wishing for that same vibrant girl to make an appearance again.

I had shed countless tears at the most inopportune moments for her and didn’t even understand the reason at the time.

She might have been young and inexperienced, and she most definitely should have fought to protect herself, but she was the best broken version of myself.

She fought for those she loved and wasn’t afraid to sacrifice her whole being for them.

She was wise beyond her years and considerate.

But the biggest part of her life that I was most envious of was the fact she wasn’t alone.

My phone dinged, alerting me that I had a text.

Crap! I didn’t consider the weather when I chose this place and hadn’t planned to stay overnight, so keeping my cellphone dry wasn’t something I worried about at the time.

It was a miracle it was still working, judging by the dampness of my clothes.

I checked my pockets and the front zipper of my bag, but it wasn’t there.

Ping. Another text. No one ever texted me.

In fact, I hated to text. I’d rather make a phone call and get what I had to say out of the way.

Plus, I had a hard time making out people’s intentions through text.

I couldn’t hear their tone, and half of the time, I wasn’t sure when someone was being serious or making a joke.

Ping.

Ping.

“Isaac,” I said his name, a bit of sourness in my voice.

He, of all people, knew how much I despised texting, and yet he insisted on talking with me…

No, not talking, texting me. The endless notifications did have one perk this time, though.

After the last one, I saw my phone beneath the bush where I was dream-scooping leaves.

I didn’t remember putting it there, but it was definitely not out of the ordinary for me to find things in odd spots.

At least this time, it was remotely close to me.

Unknown: You didn’t listen the first time, silly girl.

Unknown: I offered you a ride & warned you about the rain.

My heart throbbed so loudly I was able to hear each beat in my ears.

Panic wrapped around my throat, squeezing tighter with each passing second, reducing the air I needed.

The first texts I brushed off as a wrong number even though they were oddly spot on.

Now, that wasn’t a possibility. This was too weird, too specific to be an incident.

My eyes darted around the riverbank I was on, and when I didn’t see anyone, I peeked around the bush. No one was around me. Was someone watching me? Goosebumps shot across my skin, and suddenly, I felt so unbelievably naked despite the wet clothes stuck to my body.

I didn’t want to look back at my phone screen, but I had to find out what the last two messages said.

This wasn’t the first time in my life someone tried to intimidate me.

It wasn’t even the first time this week.

But I guess the fact I didn’t know who was behind the text and had no way to look the ass swipe square in the eyes to tell them off made me a bit nervous.

With a shaky finger, I opened the third text.

Leather Cult Leader: Hey, you good?

Me: Yep. Did you get a new number by chance?

Leather Cult Leader: Uh, no? This is the same one I’ve had for a while now. Are you drunk at 9 A.M.?

Me: I rarely drink.

Leather Cult Leader: Keyword being “rarely”. It doesn’t equal never.

Me: Fine. No, I’m not drunk

Leather Cult Leader: Then why in the hell did you ask if I got a new number?

Me: It’s nothing. Forget it. I just woke up. What’s up?

Leather Cult Leader: Just checking in. Can’t a brother check in on his kid sister?

Me: No complaints from me except…

Leather Cult Leader: What?

Me: I HATE texting. Did you forget that?

Leather Cult Leader: Nope. Just wanted to annoy the piss out of you is all. Did it?

Me: Like a charm, brother.

Leather Cult Leader: See. I told you Cleveland would be better for you this time around.

Me: It really isn’t. Still kinda smells like dirty socks and the people aren’t any nicer than they were when I left this popsicle stand behind in my dust.

Leather Cult Leader: Sorry about that. Erm. Love ya, dork.

Me: Love you, too!

A small smile graced my lips. I’d grown accustomed to hearing him say it, but his awkwardness made it hilarious to me. There was only one text remaining, and the sender clearly wasn’t Isaac. My gut told me not to open it, but I had to.

Unknown: You didn’t listen. I tried to warn you. Now look at you. You’re wet and you fucking slept outside. That’s not smart. You need to be smart. Didn’t your biker teach you better than that?

Pure rage blinded me when I read the last three sentences.

What type of coward rode around for hours to find someone when they clearly knew where they were at?

Apparently Shane, that was who. I hauled myself off the ground and onto my feet fast and was fully aware of where I was going before I reached my car.

It was true I didn’t know one Royal Bastard in Cleveland, or, at least, I didn’t think I did until last night, but I was about to get uncomfortably close to several of them if they didn’t tell me where that spineless jerk was.