~ The Last Good Day ~
by Amy Boatman
Disclaimer: These characters belong solely to me. Any resemblance to anyone real or fictional is entirely coincidental.
Sex, Drugs, and Violence: There's a lot of swearing and some VERY disturbing nightmares. It would seem that my disclaimers have not been strong enough. Please be warned that this story is dark and disturbing. It deals with themes such as drug addiction, sexual assault, incest, graphic violence, sex between two women, and lots of other angsty stuff. If this is gonna disturb you, you might want to go find something much happier to read.
Thank you to my lovely and talented betas: Nutty and Elsieaustin whose advice and suggestions are invaluable.
Undying devotion, belated birthday presents, witty repartee: xenacast@gmail.com
Chapter Nine
"OH MY GOD! What the FUCK are you DOING here?" I blinked my still fuzzy eyes and shook my head, trying to dispel this nightmare from my vision. Surely I was still dreaming. She could not possibly be here standing next to me as if nothing had happened. As if she had just gone out for milk and eggs instead of running off with her boy toy, whatever the hell his name was. As if she had not ripped out my heart and stomped on it.
I tried to sit up but instantly felt dizzy and fell back to the bed. My head throbbed and my eyes burned. Those sensations didn't register next to my complete and total shock at seeing a face I had never expected to set eyes on again.
She had leapt back from the bed at my outburst. She stood with her back against the wall looking as if she was attempting to get as small as possible. Her mouth hung open, and her eyes held terror. "But…but I…You know I've been here the last two weeks! You talked to me, called my name. Why are you so upset now?"
"What are you talking about? I thought you were Bailey, and you know it. There is no way I would have called out your name! Do you know how long I've hated you?! Do you know how badly you broke my heart and the state you left me in?!"
There was a jackhammer inside my head trying to blast a hole through my skull. Bile burned in my stomach, and I realized I was going to throw up. I turned away from Tricia, and found Dr. Gupta standing on the other side of my bed. He seemed to sense what was about to happen and grabbed a pink plastic basin off the shelf behind him.
I accepted it gratefully. I leaned over the side of the bed and emptied the contents of my stomach into it. As I held it waiting for the next heave, I wondered why they made these things pink. I always thought black would be better. Then you wouldn't have to see what it was you just barfed up. As it was, just the smell of the vile yellow liquid alone would have been enough to make me vomit again. Which I then proceeded to do.
After several minutes without any more vomiting, Dr. Gupta spoke quietly. "Are you done?"
I nodded, not meeting his eyes. Throwing up in front of anyone was high on my list of embarrassing things not to do.
He took the basin from me and placed it in the sink across the room. He brought me a wet washcloth. I had dropped back onto the bed, the pain and dizziness threatening to overcome me. The washcloth was cool and soothing as I wiped my face.
"Jordan, I only wanted to help you. I heard you'd been shot. I read about what happened to you, and I thought you would need me. I do love you, ya know."
There was no room left in my mind for the incredulity I felt welling up inside me. How dare this woman just presume to step back into my life. How dare she try to manipulate me yet again. Did she really think I was stupid enough to buy her story? I felt the bed lurch as a dizzy spell swept over me, and I squeezed my eyes shut. "Tricia, I need for you to get out." My throat was raw from vomiting, and my voice was barely more than a whisper.
"But Jordan." I felt her step closer to the bed. "I want to be here for you. I want to help you. I came back just to be with you. Sweetheart, I have missed you so much." She reached out and placed a hand on my arm.
Something inside me snapped. I reached out quickly and snatched her wrist in my hand. I pulled her down until her face was mere inches from mine. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM! HOW MUCH PLAINER DO I HAVE TO SAY IT?" I let go of her arm with a push that sent her reeling across the room. I could feel the heat burning from my eyes and wondered why she wasn't on fire yet. If I had the powers of Drew Barrymore's character in Firestarter, she would be a pile of ash by now.
Dr. Gupta, the lucky observer of this dyke drama, stepped around the bed and touched Tricia on the arm. "Perhaps you should go. This is getting her entirely too upset. She's had a rough day." He began guiding her towards the door.
Tricia continued to gape at me, her eyes welling with tears. "I'll be back later, okay? It'll be alright once you've calmed down a bit." Then she was gone. Her scent lingered in the room, filling the space with the odor of lilacs and a hint of musk. That smell brought an avalanche of memories sliding into my brain.
The first time I had ever seen her, she was making out with another woman on the dance floor of the only lesbian bar in Austin. The music was some pulsing electronica, and Tricia was grinding her pelvis against the other woman's leg in time to the beat. Their arms were locked around each other, their faces covered by a mass of brown and blonde hair. The passionate kiss they were sharing made me wonder if I was about to witness my first live sex scene on the dance floor.
Sondra had died three weeks earlier. Her loss was still a gaping maw in my chest. The empty house was just too much to bear, so I spent most of my time at the bar. I was still on leave from work, so there was nowhere to be, nothing to do, no one waiting up for me. I arrived that night fashionably early to begin my nightly pursuit of numbing drunkenness. I liked to have a really good buzz going before I faced the mass influx of women. When I arrived, I took up residence on my customary stool at the end of the bar. From this position, I could see the front door just past the pool tables off to my left as well as the dance floor on the other side of the assorted tables off to my right. It was not a large bar, but it was cozy. I felt comfortable there. I could blend into the shadows and watch the happy, laughing women in blissful anonymity.
The lights were dim, and I could see drifting cigarette smoke in the flashing lights from the dance floor. The air felt thick and charged. The hairs on my arms were standing up, and I had an unaccountable flutter of excitement in my stomach. This was exactly the feeling I got just before a thunderstorm. Little did I know, Hurricane Tricia was about to make landfall.
The rhythmic music slowly faded into a fast country song, and the dance floor filled with two-stepping couples. The libidinous women unstuck their faces but remained firmly attached at the hip as they left the dance floor and headed towards the bathroom. As they were going through the door, the blonde grabbed a handful of the other women's dark hair and jerked her head back. She began licking and sucking her neck. A moment later, the door to the bathroom hallway swung shut, and they were gone.
I felt the buzz of arousal start in my core and move slowly up to my belly. I had never witnessed such passion as these two women obviously felt. The intensity intrigued me. For some reason I didn't understand, I felt compelled to follow them. I rose from my stool and made my way to the bathroom. I opened the door into the hallway only to find it empty. The women's bathroom was the last door on the right. The small hallway was lit with blue lights which lent a sickly, cyanotic hue to human skin. Everyone looked dead in this hallway. It always reminded me of zombie movies, everyone walking around with blue, dead skin and wide open staring eyes. Even the movements of people in this hallway were zombie-like because alcohol took away their ability to balance properly. Just as the thought crossed my mind, the men's room door opened and a blue zombie came stumbling out. The whites of his eyes glowed in the light making the dark pupils appear black and bottomless. He looked right past me and then lumbered the other way and out into the bar. A man in a lesbian bar was nothing new. There were some guys who thought we just needed the right men, and he was happy to be one of those men.
Outside the bathroom door, I leaned up against the wall facing the closed door. Unable to hear anything, I slid along the wall until I was pressed up against the bathroom door, my ear inches from the surface. It was still difficult to hear over the loud rock music coming from the bar, but I concentrated and heard a low moan.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmm, oooohhh. Oh yes, right there, mmmmmmm."
The voice was quiet, but the moaning was slowly growing louder.
"Oh yes, oooooooh yessss, mmmmm, oh baby yeah, right there, oooh yes."
The slight arousal I had felt earlier was now an ache of desire. Heat radiated from my center flowing down my legs and up into my chest. I could feel myself getting wet. I had never listened in on love like this before. This kind of passion was new to me. My sexual experiences had been limited and fraught with angst. I understood the desire for connection, but sexual attraction was sometimes a mystery to me. To be standing outside a bathroom door listening to the two women inside having sex was not something I ever imagined myself doing. And yet, here I was, and I could no more pull myself away than I could move a mountain.
The moans and groans behind the door began to grow louder and faster, the intensity rising. I felt my face flush and my ears burn. There was a guttural yell, something thumped against the door, and then silence. I pressed my ear into the door, attempting to hear more, but there was no sound.
Suddenly, the doorknob began to turn. I jumped back, landing against the far wall and shoved my hands in my pockets, trying my best to appear nonchalant. The other woman exited first and didn't even spare me a glance. All I saw was her mane of blonde hair as she went through the hallway and out into the bar.
The doorknob turned again and out stepped the most alluring woman I had ever seen. Her curly brown hair framed her face, and her hazel eyes were luminescent in the blue light. Her pouty, full lips were pink from her freshly applied lipstick. She wore skintight black Rocky Mountain jeans and a hot pink blouse. The blouse was undone to the fourth button allowing her ample cleavage to peek around the edges of the shirt.
I felt a finger touch my chin and lift my face up to meet her eyes. I hadn't even realized my gaze had lingered on said cleavage. She traced her fingertip over my lips, down my neck, and on to my chest. Her touch was like fire, burning everywhere her finger grazed. The desire I had felt before was nothing compared to the sensations churning through my body at that moment. She smelled of lilacs with a slight musk odor beneath it. The aroma was intoxicating.
Her eyes met mine, and her lips curled into a smile. "What's your name, darlin'?" Her voice dripped Southern charm like honey.
"Jordan," I croaked. I cleared my throat and tried again. "My name is Jordan."
"Well, Jordan, you sure are a cute thang aren't ya." She caressed my cheek and then drew her finger across my lips. "Yes, you surely are." She winked at me and then walked off. As she pulled open the door, she turned and caught me with her eyes. She smiled widely, showing straight, white teeth, and then she was gone.
I stood transfixed staring at the closed door. Eventually another woman entered the hallway. She looked at me expectantly, and for a moment I wondered what she wanted from me. It finally dawned on me that I was in her way, and I gestured her to the bathroom, indicating I was not waiting for it. As she brushed past me, I made my way down the hallway and out the door.
The darkness of the bar was a sharp contrast to the light in the hallway, and I was momentarily blinded. I stood for a moment acclimating. The smell of cigarette smoke and beer wafted through the air on the currents of cold air from the AC. The music had switched once again to "There You Go" by Pink. The floor shook slightly with each bass beat.
Once I could see where I was going, I headed back to my seat at the bar. The room had filled up in the short time I had been gone, and I had to push my way through clusters of women. As I approached my stool, I saw a figure already perched on it. I recognized the brown hair and pink blouse immediately. She spotted me approaching, her eyes traveling leisurely up and down my body.
"Well hi, Jordan." She reached out and patted the stool next to her. "I've been waiting for you." Her smile was feral.
The thought that this woman might be a bit dangerous for me flitted through my head and then was gone. She made me feel something other than sorrow and soul-sucking pain. She pushed the memories of Sondra to the back of my mind. Anything that did that couldn't be all bad.
I sat down next to her and took the beer she offered me. "What happened to your girlfriend?" I asked.
"Oh, Lacy? She's not my girlfriend. She's just a special friend. We get together sometimes. It's a…mutually satisfying relationship." She laughed at her own joke. Actually it was more of a deeply, throaty chuckle.
"Ya know, I don't know your name." It had just dawned on me.
"Tricia. My name's Tricia, and it is indeed a pleasure to meet you, Jordan."
I honestly don't remember what we talked about that night. I found out she was a bartender at a straight country bar across town and that she liked to drink Jack and Coke. Other than that, I only remember how she made me feel, how she stroked my arm with her hand and caressed my body with her eyes. I also remember there were times during our conversation when it would dawn on me that several minutes had passed without any thoughts of Sondra. I didn't have the burning ache in my chest. What I did have was a desire to kiss her lips and feel her skin next to mine.
"I've got some great weed out in my car. What do ya say we go take a ride?" She looked at me expectantly.
"That sounds like a wonderful idea," I said without hesitation. I had no one waiting up for me. Nothing to look forward to at home. Tricia seemed to be the perfect diversion.
I was not surprised to find that she drove a perfectly restored cherry red 1966 Ford Mustang. It was lovingly taken care of, waxed and the chrome polished. The interior smelled of Armor-All, and the vinyl bucket seats gleamed. The dashboard and gauges were exactly as they had been back in 1966 when the car was new, with one exception. She had installed a state-of-the-art stereo system.
Tricia slid into the driver's seat, and I made my self comfortable on the passenger's side. She retrieved the pot from the glove box and expertly rolled a joint. She held it out for me to take but then pulled it away as I reached for it. "This is some really good weed I got here. I think I need something in trade for it." She flashed her Cheshire cat grin at me.
"What exactly did you have in mind?" My attempt to be coy was a bit feeble.
She leaned across the stick shift and hooked a pink fingernail behind my ear. She drew the nail down my neck and then back up along my jaw line. I leaned towards her as she exerted the tiniest bit of pressure under my chin. Her lips were warm and soft. She tasted of beer and mint.
The kiss was brief, but it stoked the fire in my center even higher. I had never had such a visceral reaction to anyone. It seemed that just breathing the same air as her caused my body to react in new and exciting ways. I didn't know why I felt so drawn to her, and I didn't care. The cautionary, sensible part of my brain had been hogtied and gagged in the corner.
We sat in the car for a few minutes, each of us taking turns at the joint. The caustic smoke burned my lungs and more than once I broke out in a fit of coughing. I had smoked pot before but not often. It made me feel every single sensation, and for the majority of my life, that was not something I wanted. Before too long, a feeling of peace and tranquility began to wash over me. My hand had been resting on the console between the seats, and I suddenly realized how interesting it felt with all its grooves and lines. I brushed my hand along the surface and then moved it to Tricia's lap, rubbing the tips of my fingers across her thigh. Her jeans were soft, and I could feel a ripple of muscle beneath the cloth and skin as she tensed her leg.
Her leg shifted, and before I knew it, she had climbed over the console and planted herself in my lap. She held my face in her hands for a brief moment and then covered my lips with her own.
I had never been with anyone while I was stoned and was unprepared for what her touch did to me. My body was one giant sensation. There was no mindless chatter in my head, no outside awareness, nothing except her lips, her hands, her body. Every one of my senses was focused on her and how amazingly wonderful she made me feel.
Her lips and tongue found my neck, my ears, and then traveled back to my mouth. Her hands roamed every inch of me. She caressed my face, my shoulders, and then kneaded my breasts. My nipples hardened and began to ache under her fingertips. She rubbed her palms on my belly and then inched them just inside the waistband of my pants, just barely grazing the hair she found.
I was on fire. Every nerve in my body was on high alert. I savored every touch, every breath she exhaled against my skin as if I had been starving for sensation. Just when I couldn't take it a minute longer and was about to beg for release, she leaned her mouth against my ear and whispered, "How about we go for a drive?" She sucked my earlobe before withdrawing her mouth. Before I knew what had happened, she was out of my lap and back in the driver's seat. "I know a great spot by the lake. Let's go there."
I was incapable of speech for the few moments it took her to start the car and begin speeding down the road. I had never felt like this before. I wasn't even sure what "this" felt like. The sensations running through me were so foreign as to be incomprehensible. I had had sex before, but those encounters had been awkward and hurried. I had tried sleeping with boys, but it felt uncomfortable and brought up too many unpleasant memories. Most of my sexual experiences came during my stint in the psych ward. I much preferred having sex with girls instead of boys, but those experiences were dissatisfying as well. The girls were bored and eager for a diversion. I had a desperate need to feel wanted and connected to someone. They were matches made in dysfunction heaven.
As an adult, I had only been with two women. Both encounters had lasted only one night and then I'd never heard from either woman again. If I were to be totally honest with myself, sex had never been something I had craved. It was the closeness and the touching I was looking for. It was the connection with another human being. It was not feeling alone, if only for a brief moment in time. I had not really been sexually attracted to anyone I'd been with. Sex was simply a means to an end.
My overwhelming attraction to Tricia was completely new to me. I didn't know feeling this way was even possible. I felt completely alive for the first time in my life. My senses were almost overwhelmed by everything going on around me. I could feel the wind whipping across my skin through the open window. I could smell her scent on me, the musk mixed with lilac that I would later come to know so well. I could still taste her on my tongue. The taste was also faintly musky. The city whipped past faster than my eyes could register. The headlights and streetlamps moved like snakes of light, weaving around me.
Before long, we arrived at the lake. It was dark, and there were no other cars in sight. She grabbed a blanket from the trunk and then grasped my hand, pulling me along behind her. At that moment, I would gladly have gone wherever Tricia led.
She found the spot she wanted and spread the blanket on the ground. Without any preliminaries, we took up right where we'd left off before the drive. Within minutes, we were both naked, reveling in the feel of skin against skin.
We made love all night, taking only brief catnaps after each climax. As my body moved through the last orgasm, I burst into tears. She held me tightly as I cried. Once the floodgates were open, I couldn't close them, and I cried in her arms for a long time. I cried for Sondra and for the enormous void her death had left in my soul. I cried for the loss of any family I had ever known. Mostly, though, I cried because I never thought I could feel this way. I never imagined someone could satisfy, no matter how briefly, the burning need I felt for this kind of closeness, this kind of connection.
Just as the sun was halfway visible on the horizon, we heard a vehicle coming. We hurriedly gathered our stuff and made a mad dash for our car. We laughed uncontrollably as a truck carrying three old men pulled up next to us. Their faces became slack and their mouths dropped open as they watched us in all our naked glory scramble into the car and drive away.
Since Tricia had roommates, we went back to my house where we could be alone. The next two days were spent in my bed, exploring every inch of each other's bodies. Tricia went back to her house at one point, then came back later with a bag full of clothes and her bathroom stuff.
Every night, after Tricia got off work, she would return to my house bringing a little more of her stuff. Eventually, she had moved everything into my house, and we were officially living together. We slipped easily into a routine after I returned to work two weeks after we met. Every evening after I got off shift, I would visit her at the bar where she worked. At first I was uncomfortable watching her flirt with the men she served, but I eventually became more secure because it was me she came home to every night.
Every week or so, she brought home a new stash of whatever drug she could score from an amorous patron. She swore to me they just gave her the drugs without anything in return. I wanted to believe her, so I did. With each snort, smoke, or pill, the pain of Sondra's death floated farther and farther away. Six months later, she was sent to Bob's house by a mutual acquaintance. It was then that she taught me to fly.
Now there she was in my hospital room, back in my life again. Or at least trying to be in my life again. I wasn't sure I was ready for that. She said she'd be back once I had time to calm down, and I knew she would. For whatever reason, she wasn't done with me. I couldn't help but wonder what had happened. What had brought her back to Austin, back to me. I wasn't sure I wanted to find out. My head was spinning with confusion. That was one thing Tricia was always very good at: confusing and confounding me.
I realized all my muscles were tense. I took a deep breath and relaxed into the bed. My head only ached, no longer throbbed. My ribs were quiet as long as I wasn't moving too much. I had an all-over general body soreness. But all in all, I felt better than I had a day ago. Or however long it had been. My sense of time was seriously messed up. Eventually my eyes became too heavy to keep open, and I drifted off to sleep.
"Jordan. Wake up Jordan. Come on, open your eyes."
As my consciousness swam up from the hazy depths of sleep, I realized Tricia was sitting on the side of the bed gently shaking my arm. I was pleased to notice there had been no nightmares this time.
"Come on sleepy head. I got some good news for ya." She was entirely too cheery.
I opened my eyes and scowled at her. "What do you want? I told you I didn't want you in my room. I told you I didn't want to see you anymore. Why can't you just leave me alone?"
"Oh, Jordan, I know you didn't mean those things. You're just grumpy 'cause you just woke up." She said that last in baby talk. Gods, I hated it when she did that.
I lay my head back on the pillow and surrendered. She wasn't going to leave until she told me what she wanted me to know. "Tricia, what do you want?"
"You're gonna love this. You ready?"
Damn, she was fucking irritating. "Yeah, I'm ready. What the fuck is it?" Anger was beginning to creep into my voice.
"Dr. Gupta just came in with some good news. Your precious Bailey is awake, and she asked for you. I went up there myself just to make sure before I told you. I didn't want you to be disappointed. She's awake and she doesn't seem to have any brain damage. Although she doesn't remember any of what happened. Probably a good thing if even half of what the nurse told me is true."
Tricia continued to talk, but I was no longer listening.
Bailey was awake, and she was okay!! And she wanted to see me!! "WoooooHoooooo!!!!" I yelled as loud as I could, startling Tricia and causing the nurse to come running in.
"Is everything alright?" she asked, concern etched on her face.
"Yes, ma'am!" I crowed loudly. "Yes, ma'am, everything surely is alright now. My girl is awake and asking for me. Can you get me a wheelchair and help me down to the ICU, please?"
The nurse flashed me a wide, happy smile. "Yes, Dr. Gupta said you'd want to go visit her. I've got a chair right out here. Let me go get it." She disappeared through the door.
I turned to look at Tricia. "Thank you," I said in all sincerity. "Thank you for telling me. Thank you for being there while I was out. Even though I didn't know it was you, it helped having someone there with me." Now that Bailey was going to be okay, I felt conciliatory towards Tricia. She had, after all, been the one who dragged me up and out of those awful nightmares. She'd been there to wipe my head with a cool rag and tell me it would be alright. I still didn't trust her at all. I was suspicious of her kindness since she never gave without taking. But none of that mattered right now. Bailey was awake, and I'd get to hold her in my arms again. Maybe this was all going to turn out good after all.
Continued….