Authors: Dakota Knight
Biker Chick (11 page)
I nodded.
Ray pulled out a wad of cash. He pulled the rubber band off and peeled off a couple of bills. He threw them down on the nightstand.
“See, that nigga who gave you the card, that's what he wants to do. Throw a little cash your way and get you in the bed. And he won't care about making sure you get yours. He'll just care about getting his off. See, he ain't got no love for you like I do. All he got is lust.” Ray walked to the bedroom door. “Now you know what it's like to get fucked. Not fun is it?” His eyes shifted to one of the bedroom windows and he frowned. “Don't answer that, baby. Look, I'm going to leave and let you think for a couple of hours.”
I didn't respond as Ray walked through our bedroom door. Instead, I curled into a ball, winced at the pain I felt, and let the tears fall freely.
Chapter Fifteen
But I stayed despite the pain . . .
N
ow I know what it's like to be fucked
. Those were the first words I wrote in my journal. Little did I know that first sentence wasn't entirely true. I would later learn that there are different ways to get fucked. And most of those ways don't feel so good.
ow I know what it's like to be fucked
. Those were the first words I wrote in my journal. Little did I know that first sentence wasn't entirely true. I would later learn that there are different ways to get fucked. And most of those ways don't feel so good.
But then, I couldn't help but write about what had happened between me and Ray. I poured out my anger, my pain, and my disappointment into my journal. When Ray “fucked” me, something changed in our relationship. There was a shift in the wind. I thought about the problems we had in the past, like the “Bitch” letter, the late nights from time to time, mostly typical stuff that couples go through. I tried to figure everything out:
What happened to him? That beat down he got must have done something to him. But why is he taking it out on me? He should know me well enough to know that I would never mess around on him. Never. I mean, just because I know a nice-looking guy doesn't mean I'm trying to jump in the bed with him. I know Ray goes to strip clubs and I never complain.
Mom told me that men have to be men and that you can't fault them for wanting to look at tits and assesâevery now and thenâespecially if they aren't yours. She said, “As long as he's coming home and not smelling funny, then you know all he's doing is looking at asses and not touching them.” But something happened to him. Something bad. I wonder how I can find out. I wonder if I can talk to him about it without us arguing. I wonder . . . if I can ever truly forgive him for what he just did to me.
I fell asleep with the pen in my hand and my journal folded across my chest. I woke up to the smell of eggs, bacon, and the sound of Ludacris coming from somewhere outside of the bedroom. I opened my eyes and squinted. Sunlight filtered into the room through the mini-blinds. I had slept through the night. I pushed the journal off of my chest and onto the bed. When I tried to swing my legs off the bed, I grimaced in pain. The stiffness in my legs made them feel like they were dead . . . and rigor had set in.
I finally dragged myself out of our California king-sized bed. Something caught my eye. There was a sign posted on the door leading to the master bath. It read:
COME INSIDE.
I recognized the handwriting. It was Ray's. I walked slowly into the bathroom. The scent of mango filled the air. I saw the Warm Spirit Mango soy candle votives on the counter. There were more of them lit around the bathtub, which was filled with water and rose petals. Soft jazz music played on the CD player we kept in the bathroom.
COME INSIDE.
I recognized the handwriting. It was Ray's. I walked slowly into the bathroom. The scent of mango filled the air. I saw the Warm Spirit Mango soy candle votives on the counter. There were more of them lit around the bathtub, which was filled with water and rose petals. Soft jazz music played on the CD player we kept in the bathroom.
I laughed out, a short “HA.” I couldn't help but be impressed by the efforts, but Ray was so obvious. Obviously, he knew he had been wrong, oh so wrong, the night before, and now he wanted to play âkiss and make-up.' As I stared at the rose petal bath water, I decided I would take him up on a part of his offer.
The water was warm and soothing. My muscles began to relax immediately. Ray had drawn baths for me before, but this was a treat I hadn't experienced in a long time. I laid my head back and let the music fill my mind and the warmth fill my body.
Just as I was really beginning to relax, I heard the door open. I didn't open my eyes at first, taking in that last moment and holding it in sweet satisfaction.
“Hey, baby,” Ray said, “I see you found your bath.”
I opened my eyes. Ray was standing there with a tray in his hands. His left eye was still swollen, but it didn't look as bad as it did yesterday. I could also still see the bruising on his face. He smiled and walked up to the tub.
“How are you doing? Everything okay? Water warm enough for you?” Ray asked the questions so fast that I couldn't respond to them even if I wanted to. I saw the apology in his eyes, but he would say the words before I would even begin to think about forgiving him.
I shifted in the tub, and the warm water flowed around my body. Rose petals were sticking to my skin. I waited for Ray to speak again.
“I know you must be pissed at me, Crystal,” he said.
My eyes flew open. In all the years that I had known Ray, he never pronounced my name properly. He always called me “Cristal” or “Ma” or “Baby.”
Ray walked up to the tub and said, “I don't know what got into me last night. I was just so frustrated and when I saw that dude's card, I . . .” He paused and inhaled deeply before continuing. “Look, I know didn't treat you right. I'm sorry.”
The magic words. Out of his mouth. He sounded as if he meant it. Those words.
I'm sorry
. I thought they would make me feel better, but they didn't.
I'm sorry
. I thought they would make me feel better, but they didn't.
“Did you hear me?” Ray asked. When I didn't respond, he said, “I am sorry, Crystal. I got so much pressure on me, but I should have come to you for support, not treated you like some trick off the curb.” He was practically pleading. “I heard you,” I said, my voice raspy from my screams from the night before.
I could see the relief in his eyes. He relaxed and knelt down. “Look, baby, I'm gonna make it up to you. This bath here is only the beginning.” He knelt down further and held out the tray he held in his hands. “I even made you breakfast.”
I sat up in the tub and looked at the tray. There were scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast, along with cut strawberries and a glass of water. All of the food was neatly arranged on the tray.
“You made all this?” I asked in disbelief. I had never seen Ray even boil water.
“Ya boy got skills. You always ordering and heating up stuff, so I never had to use them.”
“In three years?” I asked.
Ray shrugged his shoulders. “Cooking breakfast ain't that hard.”
“Hmmm.” I stared at the plate again, knowing I couldn't scramble an egg even if I wanted to.
“So, are you going let me feed you?” he asked.
“What?”
Ray held up a fork. “I want to feed you.”
“Why?” I asked.
“You always got questions, don't you? Why not relax and let me take care of you.”
Ray had never fed me before. The fact that he wanted to let me know just how sorry he was.
I stared down at the water and said, “I'm still in the tub.”
Ray frowned. “I can still feed you.”
I shook my head. “Not in here.”
“Well, are you going to get out? I don't want the food to get cold.”
I stared down at the water again. I really didn't want to get out, but the rumbling in my belly let me know how hungry I was.
“If you want to get back in after you're finished eating, just let me know. I'll run some more water.”
I smiled and said, “Are you reading my mind or what? You'd do that?”
He smiled back. “For you . . . anything.”
I shifted in the tub again, preparing to get out, but then I paused. Ray was looking at me, with the tray in his hand, and I felt a rush of modesty. For some reason, I didn't want him to see me naked. Even though he had seen me in all my glory countless times over the years we had been together, I found myself actively looking for a towel.
“What's wrong?” Ray asked, concerned.
I looked from left to right. “I need a towel,” I said.
“Oh.”
My eyes shifted to Ray. He was looking around now.
“Hey, why don't you go ahead and set that tray up and I'll dry off.”
Ray looked down at the tray. His expression didn't change, but I could see the questions forming in his eyes. But the only thing he asked me was, “You sure?”
I gripped the edge of the tub and acted as if I was about to get out. I rose up a bit before sitting back down. The water splashed around me and I groaned. “I'm almost sure,” I said, chuckling. “But this water feels damn good.”
“I'm glad it does,” Ray said before turning to the door. “Just let me know if I can do anything for you.”
“You've done enough,” I said sincerely, smiling warmly. “You've really surprised me today.”
After Ray left, I exhaled deeply and relaxed for another minute or so before finally exiting the tub. I stood in the center of the large white rug in front of the tub and let the water drip from my body before I peeled off the rose petals that remained. I never did find a towel, so I took one of the soft terrycloth robes from the door and secured it on my body before heading out the door.
Ray was waiting for me by the bed, looking sort of like a lost puppy that didn't quite recognize its owner. Or maybe I was the lost one looking into the mirror. I smiled and stepped toward the bed. Ray patted the mattress as I neared.
“Lay down and relax.” He held up the remote to our stereo system and turned up the volume. A jazz selection flowed through the air. “Let me feed my baby.”
I stopped just before I reached the bed. I wondered just how sorry he was. How much he was willing to give of himself.
“Before I get in the bed, I have a question for you.”
Ray raised his eyebrows. “Shoot,” he said.
“What happened to you?” I asked, pointing toward his injured eye. “I think I deserve to know.”
Ray closed his eyes and sighed. I prepared for an argument. I prepared for him to slam the plate down and leave the room. Instead he opened his eyes and patted the bed again. “Come and sit down.”
I complied.
We stared at each other before I said, “Tell me.”
“Can you accept the fact that I can't give you each and every detail of my life? That I have to keep some things to myself for your protection?”
I nodded. Of course I understood the nature of the game. I had lived in the world . . . continued to live in that world. But I still wanted to know what happened.
Ray sighed again and continued, “You know I've been trying to get out, baby, but the price is high. Real high. And what you see before you is just a part of that. See, I've made some mistakes. Things that could have messed it up for us. And I have to pay the price for that. Now, don't worry, it's nothing life-threatening. It's just that the price I have to pay for my freedom is higher than it would have been otherwise, feel me? Believe me, I didn't realize how hard it would be to be free from my crew.”
I wondered if my dad had this conversation with my mom. I wondered how she would have reacted. Knowing her, she wouldn't have been too hard on him. She always thought that one of most important things a woman could do is support her man, especially when he was trying to open up and when he was trying to make something good out of his situation. I wanted to be that type of woman too. I reached for his face and said, “But if you really want to get out, you can. My dad did it. Can't you just do what you have to do? For us?”
Ray steadied the tray on the bed before reaching for my face. His caress was soft and warm. “Just believe me when I say that I'm trying. But you have to understand that things are going to be a whole lot more difficult for us before they're good again. Understand that I've done some things that you may not like, but I did them for us. Understand that we may be separated for a while because of what I have to do.”
“What do you mean, separated?” I almost shrieked at the thought of more lonely nights.
“You need to trust me, Crystal. Trust me and know that in the end, everything's going to be all right. Can you do that for me? Can you trust me?”
I nodded and said, “Yeah, I can trust you.”
“And do you forgive me?”
“I do.”
Ray smiled. “Thanks, Ma. You don't know how much your trust and forgiveness means to me.”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Well, are you going to let me take care of you or what?” he asked, glancing at the tray of food.
“Hell, yeah! It's not every day a girl gets her man to feed her like she's a queen.” I lay back on the bed and waited to be served.
Ray reached for the tray, picking up a strawberry from the plate with a fork.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too,” I said before taking the strawberry into my mouth and letting the sweetness of the fruit soothe all of the worry that remained.
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