AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And lately when she stopped in at the market, P.J. had pretended to hardly notice her. And it seemed that P.J.’s restraint had gone a long way in making Juliet feel more comfortable. Her stride had become more relaxed, her eyes were lifted, and when she had smiled at him last week, two dimples popped out in her cheeks. Her voice was stronger, too. She could hold his gaze a little longer now without turning away. And even though they would never set the world on fire with their dazzling conversations, P.J had stopped baiting Juliet and she had stopped running away from him. In fact, sometimes she would take a moment to sip her coffee or look at a magazine before leaving the store. The other day she had a full five minute conversation with Vivien about the merits of something called gel nail polish. It was the first time he had seen Juliet totally relaxed. Her easy demeanor and smiling countenance had given P.J. his first glimpse into the woman she once had been.
After that first time, Juliet had never mentioned the gun again, and P.J. wondered if the situation that set the need was gone, or if the security check would expose something that she would prefer not to have revealed. P.J. still wondered about the woman in the license and wished he had taken a better look at the name.
Now, he watched on as Layla moved Juliet into a circle of the neighborhood women. It came as no surprised to him that she seemed uneasy. From his perch against the tree, P.J. couldn’t tell what the women were saying, but he could see their mouths moving rapidly and their hands gesturing in the exuberant way that women tended to do. Juliet’s hands remained tightly closed at her sides and she hadn’t added more than a couple of words to the conversation.
Damn, will you give the woman a break?P.J.’s inner voice chided him. Not everyone is comfortable in a crowd. Maybe she’s just shy. Or maybe she can feel your eyes boring into her skull. That’d make anybody a nervous wreck. Give it a rest, man.
But when P.J. moved to turn his eyes away, Juliet made a movement that brought his attention reeling back. The fingers of her right hand began to nervously twist around the ring finger of her left hand. It was as if she was playing with a ring that wasn’t there.
That gesture hit P.J. hard and triggered a long forgotten memory.
Larry Tyler.
Larry and his family had moved to town when P.J. was in middle school. Larry’s stepdad, Titus, had been a steel worker and had moved his family up from Detroit to work on a union job. Larry had been skinny with bright red hair, big ears, and a lazy right eye. He had been a quiet kind of kid who kept to himself a lot. But sometimes on his way home from school, Larry would stop at the Hells Saints garage. He’d sit there in the grass and eat a snack he had saved from school that day. He didn’t say a word or otherwise bother anyone. Larry just liked to watch the club members work on their bikes.
P.J. used to hang out at the garage with his dad while he waited for his mom to get home from work. One day, on his way to see his dad, P.J. saw some kids picking on Larry. To his surprise, Larry threw a few real hard punches, and would have held his own, but there were three of them and one of Larry. P.J. jumped in to even up the score. They kicked some serious ass that day, and from that point on a solid friendship began. They would hang out together every day at the garage after school. And on Sunday mornings, Prosper would pay P.J. and Larry to clean up the guys’ work benches, then he’d take the two boys fishing.
Daisy was Larry’s mom.
She was young and pretty. She had kind green eyes, long red hair, and a shy smile. She liked to read fashion magazines and sew her own clothes.
Titus was Larry’s stepfather.
He was big, strong, mean, and dumb. He liked to drink cheap tequila and beat his wife.
Because Daisy had no friends, and was a master at hiding her bruises, there was no way for people to know that Titus beat his wife silly.
But P.J. knew.
He knew because he had seen those bruises…from far away and only once, but P.J. had seen them.
And he knew because Larry had told him. Larry told P.J. that one day when he was big enough and strong enough that he was going to kill Titus.
Larry had told his mother that she should leave that bastard, drunken, beast of a husband.
But Daisy had been afraid.
Daisy with her kind eyes, flaming red hair and warm smile used to twist that gold ring on her left hand as though it was a shackle that bound and chained her. She used to make that same nervous motion that Juliet was making now.
Daisy was always twisting that ring.
And taking those beatings.
Then one day as Daisy was making dinner, Titus went after Larry.
And Daisy went after Titus.
When Titus raised his meaty fist to punch Larry’s teeth out, Daisy grabbed the large pot of boiling pasta water, got between her son and her husband, and threw the scalding pot directly into Titus’s face. Then Daisy had raised that heavy pot high up in the air and brought it down on that sonofabitch’s head. Afraid of what Titus would do when he regained consciousness, Daisy and Larry left everything behind and ran out the door. Because they had nothing but the clothes on their back, and nowhere else to go, Larry had convinced his mother to go to the HSMC for help. Mother and son had waited in the woods all night until the garage opened, then Larry took his mother by the hand and introduced her to Prosper Worthington.
After hearing their story, Prosper sent a couple of his boys to retrieve Larry and Daisy’s things. He also sent a couple of different club members, men who had been groomed to the job, to deliver a very strong message to Titus about what happens to assholes who beat their women. Titus received a solid beating and then was given one hour to get his bloodied, broken body out of town. He was warned heavily never to contact or look for Daisy and Larry again. Then, courtesy of the Hells Saints Brotherhood, Larry and his mother were given a first class, one way ticket to wherever they wanted to go.
Now, as P.J watched Juliet twist at a ring that wasn’t there, a piece of the puzzle fell into place. There had been a husband, and whether Juliet was still married to the guy or not? She was still afraid of him.
It was just about an hour later that Juliet began to make her way slowly to the edge of the party. The plan was to sit down out of the way for another few minutes and make sure everyone was happily occupied. Then she would steal away through the woods, go home, curl up, and watch a classic movie on TMC.
The afternoon was cool, grey clouds hung heavy in the sky and there was a pleasant crispness in the air. The leaves had begun to turn and drop in earnest now and cover the carpet of dying grass. Juliet sat down on the wooden bench. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine that instead of winter, spring was on its way. She imagined that the sunshine that warmed her face had come to melt the ice and snow away. That underneath the dull brown landscape, sleeping flowers were getting ready to sprout up from the ground reborn. Their long green stems giving way to fragrant petals that would dance lively in the warm winds, grateful for another chance to bloom. She could feel the wind play with her hair and the tension leave her shoulders.
Juliet pulled the wool shawl tightly around her and felt herself begin to relax. The murmuring of conversation, the soft music, and the warm sun on her face all worked together to lullaby Juliet into a deeply restful sense of peace. She had begun to enjoy this brief respite when she lost the sun, and the loud crackle of leaves sounded out like a firecracker in the night.
