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Hunter rode off just after dawn while the sky was still a dusty pink and the air almost winter cold. He left an emptiness I didn’t expect and a silence that unnerved me, because it reminded me so much of the one that echoed in my mind for months after Jax discarded me.
I packed up and headed towards the island I’m performing on tonight pretty much as soon as he left, thinking the drive, the ferry ride and finding the spot once there would take my mind off those things, but things didn’t go according to that plan.
The drive from the motel room to the ferry terminal was very short, and once I got there, I was informed that only the logistics vehicles were allowed to cross to the island on the ferry, while the performers had to leave our cars in the vast parking lot where the attendees will also be parking. A boat had been chartered to bring visitors across the water and would be leaving every hour from now until three AM.
So I took my guitar, a backpack and my song writing notebook and boarded the boat. My original plan had been to find a secluded beach and maybe try to write something new. Having the car would’ve made that easier, but I figured I could walk there too.
The first part of the island I saw from the boat were the cliffs and sandy beaches where Jax and I had planned on spending the night after finding out that the cheapest rental there was almost three hundred dollars a night. I wasn’t prepared for the punch to the gut that memory brought.
I had suggested we spend the night here after seeing a nighttime picture of this beach with stars twinkling overhead in a black velvet sky across the water from the multicolored city skyline. It would be the perfect blend of the nature we grew up in and the wide world we’re exploring, I thought then. Now that happy memory just makes my heart so heavy, I’m having trouble sitting upright.
But these memories will fade now that I’ve accepted that there’s no chance for a future with Jax and no way back to what was. No hope that any of the plans we made will ever come true.
He doesn’t want them to.
And neither do I.
I didn’t mention the weird dark dude being at the concert again last night to Hunter, even though I woke up twice last night, certain someone was peeking in through the flimsy curtains on my motel room window.
No one was actually there. I checked both times with the gun clutched tight in my sweaty palm.
If I told Hunter, he would’ve stayed, and I saw it in his eyes that he needed to leave. And what’s worse, he would’ve made sure I was given an MC security detail just like I had to endure all through elementary school and high school. Sneaking away with Jax was such a challenge back then. But we made it and I thought that meant we always would.
Just one more scoop of bullshit on top of all the rest of what I thought our love was. Is that why he wanted it to stay a secret even after there was no real reason it should’ve been? Because he was never sincere when he told me he loved me?
But as much as I would like to believe so I could hate him for it, I know it’s not true. I know he was sincere, I saw it in his eyes, felt it in his touch and every one of his kisses. And I’ll never forget that. It was too powerful. Too real. Too strong. But life goes on.
And I can move on with it. I have to.
Because I’m not giving up or even postponing my dream for anything or anyone ever again.
Least of all some old bearded weirdo who gives me the creeps, but might actually be completely harmless.
I doubt I’ll have to worry about him at tonight’s show since it’s on the island and after this gig I’m hooking up with Pixie Rage and we’re heading to our next show in Idaho together.
That wasn’t the original plan, but Manny and I spoke last night after their concert and he invited me to perform with them at the next five shows and then we’ll see where it goes from there.
I got the sense that Manny just wants to spend some more time with me, mainly because he kept his bony knee pressed against my thigh and kept touching my arm with his cold fingers the whole time we spoke. He also managed to work the question of whether Hunter and I were together very early into the conversation and perked up considerably once we assured him that’s not the case. I don’t think I’ll be doing anything more that jamming with his band though, that part of things is still pretty dead inside me. But I could use the extra exposure headlining for his band will bring.
But getting friendly with Manny is just one more shovelful of dirt into the grave of the plans Jax and I made. But that’s good. It’s time to bury it all. Cover it all with new plans, new memories, new adventures, until nothing of it remains to remind me of what could’ve been. It never will be and that’s that. Accept and move on. Let go and forget. Build a new life on the ashes of the old. A new love? No, I don’t think that’s possible. But at least I’m able to ask myself that without my stomach cramping up and my heart exploding from the pain and sadness. And that’s a considerable step forward.
* * *
Jax
My mind’s whirring a thousand miles a second as I follow Snake and Tiny through the underbrush, the sweet, powerful scent of the redwoods near overwhelming. The ancient trees also seem to be whispering all around me, as though trying to tell me something. I can’t quite make out what, but it’s getting louder.
Gene is limping a few steps behind me, breathing hard, his face once again as grey as his slacks. The deeper I get in with the Renegades, the harder it’ll be to break away. That’s the loudest thought in my mind and quite possibly also what the trees are trying to tell me.
My shank is still safely tucked away in the sole of my shoe, I could use it. Or I can make a run for it. But that would mean leaving Gene behind. He can hardly keep up as we wade through this under bush, which is so thick it’s hard to walk fast, let alone run. He can’t run. He’ll just slow me down. But I got him into this mess, which means I’m responsible for him now.
I slow, letting Snake and Tiny get ahead, and wait for him to catch up.
“It’s all so fucked up,” he wheezes as he reaches me. “But at least we’re free.”
He sounds ecstatic as he says it, or maybe it’s just extreme shock lending that crazed happy tone to his voice. Either way, I almost change my mind about what I was going to say to him.
“The first sign of civilization we hit, you should turn yourself in,” I say. “Tell them you had nothing to do with this escape, that you were just swept along.”
