Road from Ruin

Chapter Two

I was named after the song Delta Dawn. I'm not sure my mother truly understood the meaning of the song, the dark and endless sadness it held. She just liked the beat and figured it was a pretty name. But at 25 instead of 41 like the song states, I already feel like I have fulfilled the prophesy the song bestowed on me at birth. I felt like I was walking "dowtown with a suitcase in her hand, Looking for a mysterious dark-haired man."
Aimlessly searching for meaning in my life, without actually making any drastic moves to find it.

At 3:06 am, I made my first drastic move. I turned on Harvest Moon by Neil young, which I knew was five minutes and three seconds long, packed up whatever I could find by the time the song ended and I left. The actions leading up to my abrupt departure are dark and will probably sit on my soul like a scar for the rest of my life, but I have to be grateful for them because it was the final push I had been waiting for to put me out the front door. I shook my head and brought myself back to reality. I was lost. Well, I couldn't technically be lost if I didn't have a destination, but I had no clue where I was. The day is hot and the sun is shining on the road in front of me, the music is good and my car feels even better so I can't really complain. I'll just keep moving forward. I have $2300 to my name. Well... $2247 after my stop at the gas station so I'm hoping to drive as far as I can, find a cheap motel, sit down and plan out my next move. I need somewhere to land, a small town hopefully near the water, I need a job and a place to live. The sun is starting to set so the sign I saw for a town ahead has come with perfect timing. I see another sign with the symbols for hotel, food and gas 10 miles ahead as well so I should be in luck. Of course the thought of luck is when my car decides to make its famous sound of refusal, which I know will soon be followed by my engine stalling and starting to smoke. My old car is beautiful to look at but reliable is not a verb I would use to describe her. If I would have known she would eventually become my getaway car I might have thought twice before buying her to fix up on my own, but here we are. I pull over slowly into the upcoming parking lot, put her in park and slam my hands on the steering wheel.

"Now Darling? We are so close to a motel, so close to starting fresh and you give out on me now?" She obviously doesn't reply because she's a car but I speak to her as if she would. I give myself 30 seconds to set my head on the wheel and be mad before getting out and popping the hood to check what's going on. Smoke comes billowing out from the engine, more than usual, and I am immediately filled with dread. It's never this much smoke. Something new is wrong. I take a look at my surroundings for the first time. To my right the sun is setting behind the hills in the distance, while to my left the neon sign that simply says "Bar" shines sadly on the side of an old brick building. Well. Might as have a beer while I debate my next move.

From the looks of the exterior I have a feeling this bar is on the seedy side, so I lift my head and walk confidently hoping to give off a "don't fuck with me vibe" that I know I haven't quite mastered yet. I pull open the door and am immediately hit with a wall of cigarette smoke and the smell of stale beer. I notice a bar that extends the entire length of the space, and head towards it. Pulling out a barstool I notice the bar is filled with men and women in leather jackets, all with drinks in hand, strewn around as if they own the place and it finally clicks — I just walked into a biker bar.

Still trying to channel my inner badass I straighten my back and look towards the elderly bartender that I notice is staring right at me. Swallowing hard I look back over my shoulder to see that he's not alone, the entire population of this bar is looking at me as if I'm a dog walking on its hind legs. I clear my throat loudly, turn back to the bartender and with as much courage as I can muster say "Beer. Please..whatever you have on tap is fine." His eyes dance with delight as if he can feel my discomfort radiating off my body.

"Sure sweetheart, comin' right up." He says before turning to pour my pint.

"You lost?" I hear from a gruff voice behind me, turning to look directly into a chest, and slowly turning my head up to see what seems like a seven foot tall man standing directly beside me.
"Nope, just pulled off the road for a beer. You know.. needed a break"
"Hmmmm so that ain't your car smokin' in the lot?" He could be handsome, if his sheer size didn't send me into immediate panic.
"Ahhh.. yeah that would be darling. She's a little temperamental so I'm letting her breathe." I say under my breath as I pick up the beer set in front of me and take a sip that ends up being a large gulp.
"Darling?" He asks as if I'm inane.
"That's her name. Darling. She looks like a muscle car but she's more of a southern darling, beautiful as hell but as soon as she gets hot she needs a rest." The man laughs the loudest laugh I've ever heard and moves to put his arm around me.
"Bet you'd need a rest too after I got you all hot and bothered." He says as loud as possible, stating to the entire room that he is clearly trying to hit on me, but I can't help but laugh at his terrible attempt.

"Decker. Down." I hear from behind me and automatically look for a dog from the way the sentence was phrased, instead I see the terrifying yet hilarious man in front of me raise his chin in a goodbye and sulk away. Emerging like a Greek god from behind the retreating man is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. With the looks of a model covered by the beard and shoulder length hair of a fighter, the man is the most confusing sight I've ever laid eyes on. He walks up to my slowly with confidence I'm sure I could never hold, and holds out his hand for a greeting.

"Sorry if Decker was bothering you angel, he's all bark no bite but looks like a mean motherfucker."
Jesus. His voice sounds like butter. It sent shivers from my toes to my ears and I can already tell there is a flush rising up my chest.

"Angel?"
"Sorry who's angel?" I finally find the words to respond, the fog of his beauty slowly lifting to be replaced by confusion.
"Well anyone with hair that blonde, basically lookin' like a halo formed around your head, wearing all white and walking like she floats on clouds... I'd have to assume she's an angel." He says with a raised eyebrow. And I laugh. Right in his face. I hear a few shocked gasps and coughed laughs from around me informing me we have an audience.
"Somethin' funny?"
"Sorry I just.....does that line ever work? I mean really. Angel? Why not just ask me if it hurt when I fell from heaven?" I snort and pick up my beer to take another long haul.
"Never called anyone angel before, and it's clearly not workin' now so how about I buy you another beer since you're working your way through that one quickly."

I take a moment to look him up and down. On his feet are massive boots that I should find disgusting but are strangely appealing. His legs are covered with distressed denim that look like they were walked right off a runway but I have a feeling they were bought brand new and hard work gave them the look they have now. His chest is covered in a skin tight white T-shirt that I know I could count at least six abs beneath even from a barstool away, and the look is finished off with an insignia covered leather jacket. His appearance screams I don't give a fuck but looks like it was hand picked just for him. His hair is the deepest chocolate brown I think I have ever seen, down to his shoulders with no split ends and a softness I either want to reach out and touch or ask what conditioner he uses. When I finally make it to his eyes, the silver grey stones are filled with humour. I was just caught shamelessly checking him out.

"Mmmm maybe the angel line did work, I'll have to save that for later. Buster, can you get the lady another beer and a drink for me?"
"Please." I mutter under my breath.
"Please." He says as he shoots me a wink and sits on the stool beside me. He smells like pine and cloves and grease and it should turn me off but I want to stick my head in his neck and take a hit directly from the source. This man is an anomaly, he is obviously sexy but oozes danger that I have always stayed away from. His silver grey eyes look almost evil while his lips are borderline feminine with perfectly mix sweet and sin. And I'm staring again.

"Angel, you can look all you want but I would love it if you could actually say something so I know you're with me"
"Delta. My name. Is uhh delta. Not angel. And I'm on my way to the motel in town, my car just overheated so I'm giving her a break so I figured a beer would be nice."
"Delta...mmmm. Cool name angel. Want me to take a look at your ride?" He says as his eyes track up and down my body with an ease that shows he checks woman out openly all the time.

"Ahh no. I can handle her, have been for years. Thanks though." Ending the conversation I turn my attention back to my beer and pull out my phone to look up a local auto shop.

"Ain't gunna find one open angel, it's Sunday and you're currently in the company of the towns only shops entire staff." The man says beside me while looking directly at my phone. I turn it towards my body.
"I'm sorry but snooping is very rude."
"Well I thought you said you could handle your car issues. If that was true you wouldn't be looking up a shop. I own the shop in town angel just let me take a look."
He says while standing as if the decision is made and it's time to go, and starts toward the door. I chug my beer and run after the most beautiful man in the world who I can't tell is the very nickname he has bestowed on me, an angel, or the devil himself.