8 Mile & Rion (14 page)

The woman trusted me with her body and I called her a whore. A good man doesn’t do shit like that. Bottom line is, it’s time for me to go.

Walking across the hall to say goodbye in person when I open the door and see her wrapped around Rio, I snap. Without a thought, without assessing the situation I grab him and tear him away from her. He comes up swinging and I was prepared for it and return his jab with my own. The two of us are at war in her office but it’s when we crash into her and send her to the floor that we both stop dead.

“Junior!” he yells reaching for her before I could.

“I’m
fine
,” she growls moving away and that’s when I see the tears. Making a move toward her she retreats, obviously not wanting me close to her.

“You crying because of me?” I ask.

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” she says sitting back behind her desk. “But no, Loyal the credit for this doesn’t belong to you. Better luck next time.”

“Why would she be crying over you?” Rio asks, ready for round two.

“Because I---“

“Because he’s incapable of being nice,” she says, dismissing me. “It’s fine Rio, can we deal with the issue at hand please?”

“What issue?”

“The one where some fucking prick left this in her god damn office drawer,” he says, tossing me a stack of photos and a letter.

Reading the letter first then looking at the photos, I put it all in my back pocket, stow the rage and approach her. “Were you gonna tell me?”

“I can think of a lot of things I could tell you, Loyal, but this wasn’t one of them. Looks like you’re leaving again. Don’t let me stop you.”

All plans of leaving fled when I opened the door. I was going to have to change and I knew it needed to start with keeping my shit together. “Wasn’t leaving,” I tell her. “I was going to crash at your dad’s place to give you some space and show you I could change for you.”

“You shouldn’t have to change for me,” she says while Rio watches us like a tennis match. “You should want to change for
you
.”

“Doing this for you,” I tell her. “I’ll show you and if I don’t change for the better, I need you to cut me loose because, I won’t leave unless you tell me to.”

“Are you still going to protect me?”

“Fuck yeah, I am.”

“Fine,” she says leaving her office. “Then you can do it from my place. Oh and Rio, give the cops paid time off. I cut their checks. I’ll cut two more tomorrow. The less people involved in this, the better. You two bury the hatchet. I’m going to bed after I shower this testosterone off my skin.”

Just like that, she walked out and I’m left with Rio when it was her I wanted to follow. “Something you want to tell me?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Said something I shouldn’t have, didn’t mean to. Just happened. Won’t happen again, I’ll make sure it don’t.”

“You need help, Loyal,” he says, scrolling through his phone. “I’m sending you a phone number. Do yourself a favor and call it. He helped me out; I’m thinking he could help you too. Fuck knows you’re gonna need it.”

Then he left and my phone pinged showing me the number to a therapist. Punching in the numbers I made the call, left a message and then an hour later sat in the chair across from her bed content to watch her sleep. Someone was going to take her and if the mother fucker ever got to her, this fucking city wouldn’t know what hit it. The destruction I would cause on this woman’s behalf would be legendary.

I needed my head straight for the battle to come.

‘If the core of a man calls to you, answer it.’

~Senior Reynolds

The next two weeks were fucking weird. Loyal was…changing. When he wasn’t collecting he had ‘errands’ to run and he ran them often. When he wasn’t doing that he was complimenting me, cooking for me and watching with me hope and hunger. I’ll be damned if I knew which one was hardest on me. Every night he stays in my room until about five am when he takes the couch. At five-thirty, I cover him up and go back to sleep until seven. By seven-fifteen he’s showered and making breakfast. This is our routine and we haven’t kissed, touched or been intimate since the whore comment. I didn’t understand the switch because all the domestic stuff felt more intimate to me. But really, what did I know? Not much and at the moment I was too busy getting us back on our feet to dissect it.

Today my morning was packed with bets. Between Loyal and Rio our numbers are looking better and a few days ago the buyer for my car showed up and that money made it a little easier to sleep. The only comical part was that Loyal looked like he was going to cry when the guy drove off in it. Men and cars, I’ll never get it. We have a few big games going on and the problem with placing bets is that it’s not my job to ask them if they’re stupid but to take the damn bet. Bottom line though, people can be stupid. You need to pay attention, research, check your odds. But not many do and when they lose, they try to run, hence the collecting. The bulk of our clients are solid though. They come in and pay up and are patient when I pay out. So getting these delinquent debts paid will be a huge weight lifted. Until then, if Loyal is collecting, Rio is with me and if Rio is collecting, Loyal is with me.

I’m always protected.

Now that my books are full and Rio is doing his tally in the computer, I try and catch him off guard. Since the smackdown in my office those two have become friends and close ones at that. Like I said, weird. Girls don’t brawl then become besties. At least no girls I’ve ever hung with.

“Where does Loyal go when he runs errands?” I ask, taking the seat next to Rio and staring him down.

“Gotta ask him that, Junior.”

“He’s not here so I’m asking you.”

“He’s handling some shit,” he says avoiding eye contact. “Let him handle it.”

“Is it because he thinks he came back wrong?”

Leveling me with a look I don’t see too often, Rio takes my hands in his and says, “No, it’s because he
did
come back wrong. If he wanted you to know he’s seeing a therapist right now,
he’d
tell you.”

“Thanks Rio,” I say, kissing him on the cheek then reaching for my bag. “He wants to be better for you, Junior. If you’re going take a shot with him he’s going to need more than a few second chances, he’s going to need all of them.”

“I know he’s a good man,” I whisper. “I wouldn’t be asking if he wasn’t.”

“Junior,” he says, hugging me. “You have the biggest heart ever put into a body. I know you care about him, it’s not him I worry about. It’s you. He’s doing this to show you. I admire that, but you have to have a line. If he crosses it you have to be prepared to cut him loose just like he said. He could hurt you, he wouldn’t mean it, but that’s not the point. He’s got years of shit to work through. I just don’t want to see you suffering in the process.” Handing me the address, I stuff it in my pocket and head for my drawer.

“I’m grabbing my gun and running my errand
alone
,” I tell him. “I’ll be back within the hour.”

The therapist’s office was four blocks from my building. Walking quickly, saying hello to the locals I know and those I don’t, I make it to the building in twenty minutes then grab the bench out front. When he saw me it’s not like I could say gee I just happened to see this bench and since I was in the neighborhood… He’d know Rio told me. Thinking more on what Rio said, the fact was he’s already hurt me more than once is a gap between us. Right or wrong, I know he didn’t mean to do it, yet he won’t forgive himself for it. He’s getting help. A man without honor wouldn’t do that. I knew that in my gut.

“What are you doing here?” he says and I jump about two feet in the air.

“Waiting for you,” I tell him, trying to control my heart rate.

“Why?” he asks.

Standing up and taking a deep breath, I wrap my arms around him and tell him the truth. “Because, I missed you.”

“Take a walk with me?” he asks ignoring my comment completely.

“I’d love to,” I tell him, taking his hand and setting mine inside it. When he tightens his grip I breathe a little easier. We’re okay, we’ll be okay. Loyal I knew, did things his own way in his own time. “Where are we headed?”

“My last job was rescuing a seven year old girl,” he says quietly while matching my smaller steps. He doesn’t look at me just straight ahead and that’s okay. “Her father was an important man and she was taken in an effort to bring him to heel. When that happens, guys like me go in and bring them back, no questions asked. She’s the first kid I’ve ever rescued and we both came back wrong. She was…” he struggles while gripping me tighter, “they touched her. Hurt her small body. I had to see what was left when I untied her and I don’t know if that kid will ever be right. I knew after carrying her out and putting her on that plane, I wouldn’t be. At least, not like I used to be. A man can only take so much and I think that little girl was my limit.”

Staying silent I lead him down the street because I could walk with him hours, wherever he wanted to go. “After being gone so long I came home and nothing made sense anymore. Everything changed. What I thought I knew, I didn’t. The people I thought I knew, I didn’t and then I meet you. Doc says with enough work he can help me with the nightmares, the flashbacks and the---“

“The what, Loyal?”

“My intimacy issues,” he says looking away from me.

“It’s going to take time,” I tell him. “I didn’t know what the nightmares were about or I’d have helped you. I don’t what she did to you either, but I’m not her.”

“I know you’re not,” he says with grief in his eyes. “When something triggers me it’s her voice that I hear, her face that I see and that’s what I want fixed most. I want her the fuck outta my head.”

Tugging his arm so he’s eye level with me, I kiss his lips that I missed so much and tell him, “You’re a good man, Loyal. You can do this. I know you can. I’m here. Let me help you.”

That afternoon sparked a new beginning for both of us and the following two weeks were amazing. No, we weren’t intimate again because he wasn’t ready yet. But the subtle touches, the flirting, watching him smile and listening to him tell me about his life as better than sex. Watching him start the healing process was therapy I wasn’t aware I needed. Best of all we were helping each other heal and it was a good place to start.

‘A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out.’

~ Walter Winchell

The weeks with her, along with therapy, had me the happiest I’ve ever been. No, I wasn’t cured, but I was dealing with some serious shit and knew it would take some time and she was patient with me. She’s been a fucking miracle I refuse to take for granted. She doesn’t push, doesn’t expect, doesn’t nag. Like I said before, she’s just easy.

Rion was the first friend I’ve ever had.

Yesterday’s session we discussed my relationship with Jill and how her treatment and rules, distorted my views on all women, including Rion. The woman used me, manipulated me and lied to me to get me to marry her and continued doing it until I caught her cheating. In my gut I know Rion isn’t like that, could never be like that, but my fear of her being like that is what triggers my outbursts.

I’ve been doing as the therapist suggested. Letting her know that I still want
her
, need
her
and most of all, desire
her
. I touch her every chance I get. Kiss her on the nose, cheek or forehead, and pamper her with meals and stories about me. Every night after dinner she makes popcorn, jumps on the couch like listening to my history was the highlight of her day. But knowing her, it was.

Tonight though, needed to be about her. I wanted to know about her history, her stories and when I asked her about it she gave me that smile and said simply, “Okay.”

So here we are on the couch with her feet in my lap like we’ve done this for years. What I love most about her is that she talks with her whole body. Hands, feet, face, eyes, all of it. If you ever want to know what this woman is thinking, watch her speak, she’ll show you.