Chapter 18: All Talk
The wind pushed back the hair on Dana's forehead and she sighed, taking a sip from the bottle of whiskey that was currently in between her fingers. With her other hand, she lifted a cigarette to her mouth and took a long drag. She put the bottle down and with the cigarette dangling from her lips, she picked up the cold piece of steel that rested in front of her.
She inhaled deeply once again and began to pull the trigger, releasing off the rounds that she hoped would relieve the stress that was currently holding her down. But she knew it would only help so much. The only thing that would make her feel better would be shooting at Gemma. When the clip was empty, she released the breath she was holding and glanced over to him.
She knew he was there all along. She could smell him. She knew him like the back of her hand. Not like it mattered. She knew that they would send him. He was the only one that could put up with her mood swings. He was the only one that knew her inside out.
"You wanna talk?" Tyler whispered, reaching over and pulling out the cigarette from her mouth, taking a long drag from it. "You heard what she said. It's the truth," Dana replied.
Tyler looked around the makeshift shooting range the crows had crafted ages ago in the middle of a nearby forest. He kneeled down and sat on the grass, stretching out and laying down flat. He clasped his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles together, staring up at the quickly darkening sky. Dana reached down and took the cigarette from his lips, positioning herself next to him.
"I don't set out to be like her, ya know. It just happens. I can't help it if I tend to fall into bed with people," she whispered. Tyler glanced towards her and sighed. "What people, Dana? As far as I know, it's just me and Opie. And Laroy back in the day."
She took another long drag from her cigarette and exhaled slowly. "Me and Laroy. We've been at it for a while. We've kept it going. And we still have," she said. Ty stood up and stared straight ahead, his shoulders hunched. "Anything else I should know?"
The question hanged in the air like a bad odor that was infiltrating her lungs and about to take over. Dana opened her mouth and let the possibility of telling him the truth start to slip out of her mouth. She ran her lips over her tongue and fingered the cigarette with her thumb. "There was this one guy. For a very long time. I really loved him, Tyler. But things didn't work out. So I did what was best. I fell in love with you," she whispered.
She kept staring forward. Not daring to look towards him. She couldn't muster the strength to face him. She could hear his breathing start to quicken, as he tried to control his anger. "And in the end, here you are. Still stuck with me," he whispered. Dana sat up, mimicking him. A wind came towards them, brushing back the hairs that were stuck on her forehead.
"Even though we quit on each other Tyler, we've always loved each other. We were just better off as best friends than husband and wife," she said.
He turned towards her and sighed, bringing up his hand to her face. Caressing her jaw softly, his eyes holding on to hers. "We can make it work, D. It's just a matter of time and patience with each other. You have no place with Opie or that other guy. You have no place with Laroy. You're a Crow, sweetheart. Always will be," he whispered back.
She purred softly as he rubbed her face against his hand. She lowered her gaze, studying the crow graphic that was on his shirt. "We're not good together, Tyler." He shook his head and stood up. He stretched out a hand down towards her and smiled, motioning to his bike.
"Come on. We'll go to my mother's. Pick up Lila. Go home. Make a nice dinner. Have a night cap. And I'll show you what you've been missing for the past couple of years," he said. She didn't have a choice, but to let him pull her up. She followed him through the soft grass, letting him lead the way. She smiled softly as he handed her his spare helmet.
She giggled as the bike vibrated between her legs. She wrapped her legs around him, drinking in the fact that she felt so carefree currently. She didn't know if it was the fact that she was currently shit faced. She didn't know if it was the fact that she was this much closer to telling him the truth. But she felt good. On the back of his bike. With her legs wrapped around him. With her hair flying wildly behind her.
Because she was done with all the talking.
She needed to take action.
She needed to make moves.