CHAPTER ONE
DOMINIC
I feel the cool breeze sweep across my face and hair as I ride through my hometown, Sedona, Arizona. It's been years since I was here. Twenty three years, to be exact. I don't know why I stayed away for so long. I guess that's what happens when you are trying to run away from the demons that haunt you—in and out of your dreams. My demons have been haunting me every single day since I was seventeen.
I shake my head to avoid going down that rabbit hole and tighten my hold on the handlebars of my 2500-cc Triumph Rocket 3. I look around the unfolding desert landscape of Sedona and I'm suddenly bombarded with memories of my time here. This is my hometown. The place where I lived the first eighteen years of my life, before I took off like a scared wimp of a man with a rabid dog hot on his heels. I sigh and narrow my eyes at a very familiar diner, the large neon sign creaking in the breeze. With a small laugh, I stop my bike and get down, turning to look at the huge signboard, MARCY'S DINER, occupying more than half of the diner's front space.
"Typical Marcy." I mutter, running my fingers through my disheveled hair and walk into the diner. The smell of food invades my nostrils and I hear my stomach rumble, reminding me that I have not had anything to eat since I got on my bike yesterday morning. That's over twenty four hours. With a small pat of apology and assurance to my tummy, I walk up to the large counter to order something to eat. The diner's interior is still the same as I remember it—the same vinyl booths, the same Formica tables, the same brown painting on the walls. I place a large order of burgers, fries, vegetable salad and an extra large cup of ice tea. My fingers tap rhythmically on the counter top as I watch the petite girl scribble down my order before turning to look for a space to settle down.
"Dominic Van Beek, is that you?" A familiar voice exclaims, stopping me in my tracks. I turn to find my old friend and first crush, Marcy Patel, staring at me with wide surprised eyes.
I grin, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. "The one and only," I say, sliding onto a stool.
Marcy rushes over to hug me, nearly dropping the tray of food she's carrying. "It's been ages, Dom! What brings you back to Sedona?" She asks, excitement dancing in her deep blue eyes.
I shrug, my fingers tapping rhythmically on the side of my stool. "Just passing through, I thought I'd stop by and say hello," I tell her, lying through my teeth. I am not just passing through. I am here for a reason, but she doesn't have to know that—not yet.
"Just passing through, huh? You've been away for over twenty years, Dom. You just decided to pass through today?" She asks with arched brows, making me feel like shit. "You're staying at your mom's place, yeah?" She asks, her eyes flashing with an emotion I do not have time to read before they disappear, and I nod, my chest constricting with the thought of my mother.
I wonder how she will react to my sudden return. If she'll let me in. I have seen her in over twenty years, not since the last night I ate dinner with her, pretending I was okay by cracking jokes to lighten the mood. I know for a certain, my mom will not be ecstatic about my return.
With a heavy sigh, I look up to find that Marcy has walked away to serve the food she was carrying, but walking back to lean on the counter beside me. I take a closer look at her and notice the changes. She is older—of course, she is. Her once full and long auburn hair is now short with white strands covering the sides, her high cheekbones are now a bit lower, the sides of her eyes are now covered with tiny lines from years of smiling and laughing. Her smile is still as bright, her laughter still as contagious. Still the same sweet and lovely Marcy, just a little older.
"You look good, Marcy. As always," I tell her in all honesty. I can understand why sixteen years old me had a huge crush on her. Even with the years settling in, she is still as beautiful as she was those years back.
"Oh, please! Don't start with your flirting again, Dom. Don't forget I am way older than you and married with two grown up kids." She says, making me chuckle. Of course I haven't forgotten that. With twelve years ahead of me, Marcy was already engaged and in college when I was still in highschool. That didn't stop me from crushing hard on her, though. She was just too beautiful not to crush on.
"Still with Sam, I believe?" I ask, referring to her fiance back then, Samuel Richards. They were highschool sweethearts who decided to go to the same college and got engaged and married right after Samuel got his bachelor's degree.
"Of course, I'm still with my Sam! Were you praying I was single, so you'd have a chance, Dom?" Marcy asks in a teasing voice.
I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. Same old Marcy, always looking for any opportunity to call me out on my crush for her. The moment she realized I had a crush on her, she didn't let me live it down. It became an inside joke where she'd throw jabs using my feelings for her. Did I call this woman sweet? Yeah, I take that back. There's nothing sweet about this woman.
"Of course not, Marcy. I am happy you are still with your highschool sweetheart. How is he?" I ask and grin when she lets out a dream sigh. "He's the best, Dom. My Sam is such a sweet man. He just walked out shortly before you came in. He'll probably be back before you leave," She says. This woman is all forms of whipped and obsessed with her husband. Even back then, she barely spoke two sentences without mentioning Sam about twenty times.
I nod and softly thank the petite waitress as she places my food on the table. My stomach rumbles at the sight and smell of food, and I waste no more time before digging in and moaning at the fantastic taste of the beef burger.
"You still make these burgers yourself, don't you?" I ask Marcy who is staring at me with a huge smile. Marcy has always derived pleasure from watching people enjoy the food she makes. Every food from Marcy is great, but these burgers? These burgers are fantastic. They taste as good as I remember, even better.
She nods. "You know how much I love cooking," she says with a bright smile. "They taste absolutely divine. God! I've missed these," I tell her and take a huge bite, moaning at the rich taste.
"You've always been a burger man, Dom," She says with a smile and a shake of her head. "Your burger man, yes. I still haven't gotten around to finding burgers that taste as good as these," I tell her in all honesty. Marcy keens at my words, her face lighting up with pride.
She shoves me lightly, her cheeks turning red. "Let me leave you to your meal, Dom. I've got to get back into the kitchen," She says and turns to walk away, but stops and looks back at me with a small smile. "You'll come by again before leaving, right?" She asks, sounding hopeful.
I nod, feeling my chest fill with warmth. "Yeah, I will, Marcy," I tell her. I know for certain I will be spending half of my free time in this diner, but I don't say that to her.
"Sedona hasn't been the same without you, Dom. I'm glad you're back, even if it's for a short time," she tells me, patting my cheek gently before walking back into the kitchen.
Damn Marcy! Always knowing how to get me emotional with the things she says. I blink away the wateriness in my eyes and focus on filling my hungry tummy.
After finishing my food and saying hello to Sam who walks in as I'm making payments, I exchange goodbyes with Marcy and get back on the road.
The sight of my childhood home coming into view has my heart pounding hard in my chest. I take a deep breath and try to get my emotions together as I walk up the small stairs leading to the front door. I frown, noticing the door is slightly a jar and I push it all the way open with my left hand, my right hand gripping the pistol tucked into the waistband of my trouser and hidden from view by my shirt. The sound of slurred curses has me freezing in my tracks as I take in the mess in front of me.
The whole living room is littered with opened cans of different alcoholic drinks and empty packs of takeouts. I feel bile rising in my throat when I see my mother sprawled out on the dirty couch, snorting and mumbling curses in her drunken state. I blink away the tears that threaten to fall as I take heavy steps towards my oblivious mother. The stench of stall food, alcohol and dirty invade my nose and I have to hold myself back from gagging.
How long has it been since she last had a bath? The sound of an empty can crunching under my foot has my mother open her red unfocused eyes to stare up at me. "Who are you?" She asks with a slur, before belching loudly and closing her eyes again. I have to close my eyes to stop myself from bawling at the broken state of my once happy and radiant mother.
Did I do this? Did my leaving turn her into this? I knew I was all she had left, yet I still left. Of course, I did this to her. I turned her into this drunken mess of a woman.
Unable to continue staring at her, I turn away and head upstairs to my room. The sight of my childhood room has me gripping my chest as multiple memories of myself in this room as a child come flooding in. I take a deep breath to keep my emotions in check and drop my duffle bag on my bed, walking to the window to look outside. I stare at the once beautiful garden now turned into an overgrown bush and wonder what happened to my mother. How did she allow herself to get this low?
Closing my eyes, I feel tears run down my face and I will myself to not cry. I am a forty two year old man, I should be able to have a better reign over my emotions. I usually do, but everything just feels too much at the moment. Turning away from the window, I settle down on my bed and stare down at my hands, thinking of the reason I chose to come back home. With a tired sigh, I lay down and close my eyes. I feel my body shutting down as the fatigue of being on the road for almost two days overcomes me. I drift off, my mind recalling the letter I received a few days ago, from an unknown sender. The letter that has me returning back to the town I thought I'd never come back to.