Tattered & Torn Read online

  I pulled out a pair of skinny jeans and a thick, cream, cable knit sweater off a hangar. I pulled on a matching bra and panty set, again, a throwback from the girl I had been before and felt a little tired and sick to death that this was what it had devolved into for me… The girl I was before versus the girl I am after. I just wanted to be me again but I didn’t know how after something just so… life altering.

  I pulled on the jeans and a fitted white crewneck baby doll tee to keep the sweater from being scratchy. I was sitting on the edge of the bed pulling on my knee high red Doc Marten boots, lacing up the front of the last one meticulously when Reaver shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

  “Runt! Your ride’s here!”

  “Just a sec!” I yelled back harshly through the closed bedroom door. I threaded a belt through the jeans and pulled the sweater on over my tee. I ran a comb through my hair and made a face in the mirror. There wasn’t shit else I could do for it without it either getting longer or me going to get it cut. Maybe I could ask Hayden if she would make me an appointment with her stylist...

  “Shelly!” Reaver yelled up the stairs impatiently.

  I blinked stupidly at myself in the mirror of the antique dressing table and looked down at the tube of lip gloss in my hands. What was I doing!? I threw the tube back down on the lacquered surface. It clacked and skittered across the polished wood and bounced against my cup of makeup brushes I hadn’t used since forever. I heard Reaver’s running shoes bounding on the tread and yelled at him.

  “I’m fine! Jesus Christ! Let a girl run a brush through her hair! Fuck me Cuz!” I jerked open the door to my room and looked up at my cousin with a frown.

  “What was that?” He asked suspiciously. I rolled my eyes.

  “Found a random tube of lip gloss in my jeans pocket, tossed it on the dressing table. Stop being such a freak.” I went back to the nightstand, grabbed my phone and snatched my purse off said dressing table before I finally pushed past him. His eyebrows went up.

  “Never claimed to be anything else, and speaking of which, who’s the fucking pervert now?” He smiled and bounced his eyebrows. I frowned harder.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Last night you get on my case about being married and your cousin and this morning you… hey!” I slapped him in the chest with both hands and shoved him, scoffing.

  “So violent Missy!” he said and I could tell he was pleased that I was at least trying to banter back like we used to. I rolled my eyes and let the smile happen and tried not to let it slip when I realized it had been so long that the gesture actually felt foreign on my lips. Ghost cleared his throat from down below. Reaver and I both looked over the railing.

  His hands were thrust deep into his jeans pockets which rode over sturdy scuffed brown farm boy work boots. I let my eyes sweep from his feet to his head. He wore one of his mechanic type button down work shirts over a white crewneck under tee. It was a two toned shirt. Black on top, gray on the bottom with a two inch wide red stripe separating the two colors midway down his chest. It looked good on him. A man in uniform always did funny things to me, even if that uniform was just a mechanic’s or tow truck driver’s. Just something about a hard working blue collar man did it to me every time.

  Over the shirt was a sturdy blue jacket with a name patch sewn on the breast that proclaimed his name to be Derek. I felt myself blush and struggled with the fact that even after Sparks, I still had it bad for Ghost. I mean I shouldn’t should I? It’d been four and a half months since it happened. I didn’t really know how long it was supposed to be before I should start to feel or deal with attraction again. I mean what happened had a profound impact on me, obviously. That meant it should take longer than four months for me to start feeling these things again shouldn’t it? I didn’t know and the whole mess of logistics and emotions confused the hell out of me. I secretly worried that enough time hadn’t gone by and the last thing I wanted anyone to think was that I was a whore, or that I’d deserved it.

  I felt Ghost’s gaze on me keenly all of a sudden, his hazel eyes sweeping over me speculatively as I took him in while the war waged on between my heart and my head as I tried to just deal with this. His brown hair was hidden by a blue trucker’s hat with ‘Pauley’s Towing’ on a white patch on the front and I hated it. The hat. It didn’t look right on him.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi,” I echoed back at him. Reaver twisted his body and bumped his shoulder into my back propelling me forward a halting step towards the stairs.

  “Get the fuck out, Cousin Dear. I want to fuck my wife,” he said. I sighed heavily.

  “You’re disgusting,” I muttered and went forward and down the stairs. I pulled my gray rain jacket down out of the hall closet and Ghost took it from me holding it out for me to shrug into. I turned to let him help me into it; that place between my shoulder blades tingling with apprehension as I gave him my back.

  Reaver is here and this is Ghost. Reaver is here and this is Ghost. I repeated in my mind like a mantra. My thoughts were spinning at a dangerously fast pace. The hamster working overtime. Why was I letting this happen? How could I agree to this? Wait. When did I agree to this?

  “See yah kids.” Reaver gave a nonchalant wave and disappeared towards the master bedroom, a moment later Hayden let out a surprised shriek and Ghost and I went for the door.

  “How do you live with those two?” he asked with a smile but I had none to spare. The girl I was before would have laughed her head off and said something about him being a prude. The girl I was now just felt confused over everything. Okay, well, not confused. I was lonely… isolated. I loved my cousin, I loved Hayden but I felt so out of place living here it wasn’t even funny. Which totally wasn’t their fault! Not at all. No, it was just mine. I sighed as he shut the front door tightly behind us. It was crisp and overcast outside. Just a few more days and it would be Thanksgiving.

  “Hey,” I turned and there was that look of concern I was growing so accustomed to seeing on anyone and everyone who looked at me lately. I changed the subject abruptly before he could ask me anything. I wasn’t sure I could lie to Ghost.

  “How’s your head?” I blurted.

  “It’s doing okay. Thanks, Princess. That tip you gave me about the shirt was solid. Replacing these is kind of a pain in the ass.” He started walking down the drive to his tow truck which was parked at the curb. I walked along with him lest I be left behind.

  “Reaver said you were going to take me to breakfast?” I asked skeptically.

  “Yeah,” he looked me over considering, “Consider it a peace offering for not taking you straight home like you wanted.”

  I nodded slowly, “Okay.”

  He opened the passenger side door for me and stood back. I pulled myself up into the cab of his truck and he shut the door behind me and I was suddenly struck by it. No guy had ever opened doors for me before. Huh… It was kind of nice. He came around the back of the truck and opened up the driver’s door and got behind the wheel. He stuck the key in the ignition and I pulled the seatbelt across my body.

  “Got anyplace in particular you’d like to eat?” he asked putting the truck into gear.

  “I’m not really a breakfast person.” He glanced at me.

  “Gonna have to change that,” he commented dryly and I felt my eyebrows go up.

  “Oh really?” I asked, suddenly ready to fight him on it if he was getting ready to go all high and mighty on me.

  “Easy Princess, didn’t mean it like that. I’m just sayin’ breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

  I turned my face to watch the last of the brown and curling leaves pass by the window as we drove.

  “Stop calling me that,” I said darkly and I watched his lips curve into a smile in the faint reflection in the window glass. Why did I go along with this? I wondered again, and just as quickly answered my own question… Because it’s Ghost, and girl before or girl after, you’re still crushing on him lik
e some stupid preteen. Wasn’t that the ever-loving truth?

  Chapter 4

  Ghost…

  She stared bleakly out the window, lost inside her own thoughts and I felt both frustrated and helpless to do anything for her. I didn’t feel one bit guilty about lying to her about the real reason I was taking her to breakfast. Peace offering my ass, I just wanted to be in her company, to talk to her, to see if she’d let me have a peek inside that pretty head of hers. I looked her over and decided on Ghorm’s, this greasy spoon over on Douglas. It wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t fancy; it was a working man’s joint, plain and simple. I think she was the kind of girl who could appreciate something simple right now.

  I let her think. Didn’t disturb her at all on the ride over. I’d never really needed meaningless conversation to fill the empty spots and this right here was no exception. Sniping had taught me to be comfortable with silence and so I just drove and relished the simple pleasure of her sitting beside me. I was surprised when she spoke up as I made the turn onto Douglas.

  “That’s what I like about you Ghost,” she said, voice strong but sounding faraway at the same time. I rolled up to a stop sign and turned to look at her.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “You don’t ask me how I’m doing every five minutes. You just let me be, let me be still and think.” I smiled.

  “That what you need? To just think?” I asked softly. She turned and looked at me and had such a sad and stricken expression on her lovely face I felt my heart twist in my chest. She looked like she had so much to say and so I stayed still, stopped at the sign even though someone was coming up on us in the side view mirror.

  “I don’t know,” she said at last and I opened my mouth but the bastard behind us honked. Shelly jumped, startled and turned to look back out the window. I closed my mouth and rolled us through the intersection, making the turn into the diner’s parking lot.

  I backed us into a parking stall and threw the truck in park and switched her off. Shelly stared out the window for several more seconds before her hand reluctantly went for the latch on her seatbelt. Damn. Moment gone.

  I was really hoping she’d talk to me. Patience. It was just like staring down a scope all day, just had to be patient. The shot would present its self. Just had to wait and not hesitate to take it when it did. I undid my belt and opened my door.

  “Here, wait, let me get your door,” I said to her when she reached for the handle and she looked over to me colored surprised. I got out and went around the front of the truck and got her door for her.

  “I can do it,” she said gently when I held a hand out to her to help her down.

  “I know Princess. Ever stop to consider it was more for me than for you?” I asked and it was true. I couldn’t fix her tattered heart but I could do this. Little small things that showed her I gave a damn. I couldn’t fix what was wrong but I could try to fix a million little other things to make life easier for her and maybe if I mended enough of the little things the whole would start to come back together too. She pursed her lips and with a grim set to her expression got down on her own. That was okay, this was just day one and it didn’t mean I would stop offering.

  “Classy joint,” she said but she had a charmed little half smile when she said it, even if it was weighted down by her sadness.

  “Not much to look at but they have real good food. Come on,” I held the door for her and she bowed her head and slipped through, her hands gripping the strap of her purse, which lay across her chest, like it was some kind of life line.

  “Hi Derek! Go on and sit anywhere hon, who’s your friend?” Margie was my usual waitress, plump with frizzy dyed red hair pulled into a severe bun, she wore the diner uniform of black slacks and dark green polo in such a way that she always looked harried and like she’d pulled it on as she was going out her front door. Which she probably had. She had four boys ranging from four to twelve, two of them identical twins.

  Shelly swallowed and looked at Margie a little wide eyed as she breezed around the little diner at top speed filling coffee mugs and setting down plates chattering a mile a minute about this and that like none of the other customer’s existed.

  “Well, what’s your name dear? I’ve never seen Derek bring a girl around these parts. Go on! Have a sit!” she waved a hand in the direction of some empty booths.

  “I’m Shelly,” she slipped wraith like to one of the open booths and slid in, I slid in across from her.

  “Usual Derek?” I nodded, “And what would you like to drink Shelly?” Shelly looked up at Margie.

  “Orange Juice?” she asked.

  “Oh look at you! Aren’t you just a pretty thing? One coffee and one OJ, coming right up,” Margie bustled off and Shelly blinked at me.

  “Ever bring any of the guys here?” she asked.

  “No. This is the only little slice of life I really keep separate from the club. Don’t know why I’ve never brought anyone here; you’re the first.” I gave her a small shrug. She looked anywhere and everywhere but directly at me. Her bright, clear, sapphire eyes roaming the place. Over the yellowed and peeling wallpaper, the cracked burgundy vinyl booths, the oak bar that customers sat at to eat, over the customers themselves which were almost all retirees or working men like me.

  “Why did you really bring me here?” she asked.

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said last night.” I’d decided truth was best if this particular question came up, and what I said got her attention because those eyes of hers snapped to mine, her lips thinning. She looked about to say something, opening her mouth to speak but that’s when Margie showed up with our drinks and a menu for Shelly. She set the items down.

  “You take your time Baby. Derek I’ll put your order in as soon as she’s decided.” I nodded.

  “Thanks Margie.” I silently cursed her bad timing but couldn’t be mad at her. Shelly had disappeared behind her menu and I decided to press on even though she hadn’t asked.

  “Specifically about me not being there. You’re right, I’m sorry.” Her eyes flicked to mine over the screen of the menu and the laminated paper dipped low, forgotten in her hands.

  “Ghost, I shouldn’t have said that I…”

  “No, you were right. I never should have said what I did at the lake, I drove you right…” Anger sparked to life and high spots of color appeared in her cheeks. Uh oh.

  “You drove me right to him? Is that what you’re going to say?” she demanded. Actually no, it wasn’t so I said as much.

  “No. I was going to say I drove you right into a no win situation and I feel like it’s my fault. What happened to you, I mean.” I shifted, uncomfortably while her mouth dropped open in a little ‘o’ of surprise.

  “I’m the slut,” she said simply and I felt my features darken, “Don’t look at me that way,” she said tiredly.

  “You’re not a whore,” I said curtly.

  “I didn’t say that, I said I was a slut. Whores get paid Ghost,” her voice grew thick with a mixture of derision and sarcasm, “Those bitches have way more class than –” I smacked the flat of my hand against the diner’s table hard enough that the flatware jumped and some of my coffee sloshed out of the mug and onto the table.

  “Stop! Just stop Shelly, you don’t need to do that; I won’t have you do that,” I grimaced. Damn the disrespect out of this girl sometimes, especially when she turned it on herself. I fucking hated that shit.

  “It hurt,” she said softly, “What you said – “

  “I know and I was a total fucking douche pickle for saying it.” She laughed a little under her breath and it made me smile to see it.

  “Was that a laugh?” I asked, smile growing wider when one graced her lips, bursting across them like one of those time lapse photos of a rose blooming to life.

  “Douche pickle?” she asked and the words, though crude, did nothing to lessen the effect those smiling lips had on my heart… or my dick. I shrugged laconically.

&n
bsp; “Got a better one?”

  She turned her head and looked at me sideways like she was trying to decide. “Not at the moment no,” she said and we lapsed into a more comfortable silence, a little less strained than it had been before. She went back to deciding what she wanted to eat.

  “I mean it Shelly,” I said quietly.

  “Mean what?” she asked, distracted by the menu. I sighed.

  “I’m sorry. I was being an immature idiot wrapped in moron dipped in dumb shit at the lake.” Her eyes flicked to mine and something passed through them, a deep and desolate darkness that shrouded her in sorrow.

  “Can we please talk about something else?” she asked quietly.

  “As long as you promise we’ll talk about it someday,” I ventured. She pressed her lips together and finally nodded reluctantly. I felt a tiny surge of triumph and Margie came back to take Shelly’s order but my mind was back on that night.

  Shelly had come up behind me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders and smiled at me.

  “So how about you and me go celebrate that shiny new cut?” she’d asked with a sweet smile.

  “Celebrate how?” I’d asked and not for the first time she’d laughed and scoffed at me. By now I was more than a few beers into my evening.

  “Don’t be such a prude Ghost!” she’d cried. I’d been sitting with a bunch of the men from the Kraken and Suicide Kings MC and they’d laughed which had hurt my manly pride or some shit and I opened my mouth when I shouldn’t have.

  “No thanks, Princess. I’d rather find me a woman who hasn’t whored for half the MC,” she’d pushed off me with an expression that was a mixture of anger and pain. I’d never out and out said anything about it before. I’d kept it to myself, the disapproval over her status within the club.

  “Actually it’s more like three quarters of the MC, and at least they know how to have a good time!” she’d lashed back.

  “Good go whore yourself out to one of them then!” I’d told her and she’d flipped me off as she’d stalked over to a different fire up the beach, closer to the tree line. It was Zander’s words that haunted me most now. He’d watched her go and looked at me and shook his head in disbelief.