“You said your dad raised you. Where’s your mother? Is she still alive?” His facial expression becomes pained as he waits for me to respond.
“Yeah,” I say softly, trying to think of the best way to explain this. “She took off when I was little and I haven’t heard from her since.” I swallow the lump that is rising in my throat. I don’t like to think about my mother often. “My father isn’t a good guy, Memphis. She ran off because of him and his lifestyle. I think a part of her was afraid to take me away from him. I’m not really sure. I was too young to know any better.”
I pull my way out of his arms and turn around. I need to do something. I can’t just stand here. Swallowing back my emotions, I reach out and turn the faucet on. Memphis gets ready to say something, but I put my hand up to stop him.
“After she took off, it was just me and my father, but he wasn’t around much. He’s a very busy man and always has been, so I spent a lot of time sleeping at friend’s houses or at babysitter’s. Then, when I got old enough to really understand what line of ‘work’ he was in . . . he dragged me along with him, made me watch, and tried to teach me to be like him. That’s what made me truly understand why my mother left. It made me want to run away also. He’s a sick, twisted, dangerous fuck.”
I pause, gathering my thoughts, but start to wash the dishes.
“When he was ran out of Chicago and decided to move here to Crooked Creek some years ago, I decided to stay back in Chicago with a friend. I wanted nothing to do with him. I didn’t answer his calls for over a year. Then as time went on I felt bad not having any family, so I broke down and moved here in an effort to be close to him, to give him a second chance. I then realized once again that he’s a piece of shit and will never change.”
I finish washing the last dish, turn off the water, and set it aside to dry before turning around to face Memphis. “I met Bailey, got a job at the tattoo shop, and told my father to fuck off. I’ve only seen him about five times in the last four years and it doesn’t bother me at all. Bailey is my family now. She’s the best person I know and I can always count on her to be there for me. Always.”
Memphis turns his head away for a moment before turning back to face me. “My father was a piece of shit too. He’s the worst man I have ever met in my life . . . but my mother . . . she’s the best person I have ever met in my life and not a day goes by that I don’t think about her.”
His jaw flexes as he steps up beside me. “I’m sorry that your mother wasn’t there. Both your parents missed out on something beautiful. You just need to remember that; it’s not you that missed out, it’s them. Never fucking forget that.”
I feel a pool of emotions swarm through me from his words and it takes everything in me to not cry. All I can do is shake my head and turn away.
“Feel free to use my shower. I’ll be out in the garage.” He picks up my chin, causing me to look at him. “Never forget how fucking great you are. Got it? Never let anyone break you down.”
I nod my head and he turns and walks away, leaving me alone in the kitchen, drowning in own my emotions.
After taking a shower I throw on my old clothes and get ready to reach for my jacket, but don’t see it anywhere, so I hurry up the stairs to go find Memphis in the garage. I only have about thirty minutes before I have to be at work.
I open the garage door to see Memphis staring down at the Trans Am. He’s sweaty and his hair is sticking up all over the place. He was taking out his frustration on the bag again.
I close the garage door behind me and step inside, unable to keep my eyes off of him. He’s so damn beautiful.
“This was my mom’s car.” His voice is laced with a hint of pride. “My buddy Jack . . . he was actually one of my mom’s best friend’s growing up. He found this car for me and helped me fix it up. He was so damn excited when he saw it sitting in the junkyard. I will never forget that look on his face.”
He looks up from the car and smiles. My heart stops from the beauty of just that look alone. “As soon as he told me that my mom’s first love was a seventy-six, I knew it would be the perfect gift for her, so I took every cent that I had and told Jack to get it; no exceptions. I needed that damn car. It took us six months to get this car perfect enough to present to her. I told Jack it had to be as perfect as her. It definitely wasn’t easy, but there was no way that my mother would pass on without setting her eyes on this car. I wouldn’t allow it.”
He steps away from the car and finally looks up at me. “I surprised her with it a week before I got locked up. Her smile when she saw this car brought me to tears. It’s one of the only times that I ever remember crying. Knowing that I could do one thing to make her happy before she passed made me feel a little bit of peace inside.”
His voice cracks with emotion before he turns away again. “That feeling was lost the second I lost control and I saw the pain in her eyes that night; six years ago. All that I did was for nothing. I fucking let her down. She told me that I didn’t, but how could I have not? It was all over her face.”
Without saying a word, he reaches for his leather jacket and hands it to me.
“What’s this?” I ask softly, unsure of how to react now that he has chosen to open up a bit.
“It’s chilly outside. Wear it.”
I don’t even bother to ask him where mine is, as he helps me slip into it. I have a feeling that he just needs me to wear his right now. It gives me a feeling of warmth inside.
I walk toward the door, but stop before I open it. “Thank you, Memphis.”
“For what?”
I look him in the eyes, wanting him to know how grateful I am. “For opening up a bit. For giving me just a little bit to hold onto.” I snuggle into the jacket and smile. “And also for the jacket.”
He nods his head and runs his hand through his sweaty hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I won’t be home till real late tonight. Do me a favor and keep your eye on Alex.”
I suddenly feel sick and my nerves are going crazy. “Why? What are you going to do?”
“I have something to take care of. I have to.” He nods his head toward the door. “You better hurry before you’re late.”
I give him a long, hard look before deciding not to push it. This man only tells me what he wants to.