Born Into Trouble (Occupy Yourself Book 1) (28 page)

She threw back her head and laughed, loud and long, corded muscles in her neck working. Without thinking, he dropped his arms and made his way to the desk, scrabbling at the surface for a paper and pencil.
Laughter ringing in the air, firm friendships forged in fire. Solid, holding tight. Memories of times we both share, strong faith because you inspire
. He made a face at the last line, shaking his head.
Fire. I could change that
. He underlined the word, then drew a quick line down to inspire. At laughter in the room, he looked up, startled, having lost himself in the words, which had been flowing fast and easy since he stopped fighting his love for Lucia.

“Allen.” Mercedes’ laughter rang in the room again because he was so clearly confused.

“What does my nephew have to do with anything?” It could be frustrating, how she jumped from topic to topic in a way it that made it hard to keep up, but from the beginning, she’d challenged him in ways he needed. Still did.

“Woody Allen,” Lucia provided, and laughed, leaning her ass against the desk on the other side of Mercedes. He looked at her and shook his head. The two women had developed a close friendship since the night of the show at Marie’s.

“What?”
Fire. Forged in the fire. Firm friendships wrapped with bonds of steel
. Bending to the paper, he reorganized lines, scratching through words and phrases nearly as quickly as he jotted them down.
My faith in you coloring all I feel. Coloring. Shading. Sheltering. My faith in you sheltering all we feel
.

“Let me hear it.” That was Mercedes, and it was the same phrase she always used. Non-judgmental, patient, but demanding nothing less than his full participation. Always.

“Laughter ringing through thin air. Memories of times we both share. Strong, promises circled round with love. Solid, holding tight. Firm friendships wrapped with bonds of steel, Faith in us sheltering all we feel. Loving this, feels so right.” He looked up to see two feminine sets of eyes trained on him, and he paused a moment, unreasonably nervous. With a shrug, he muttered, “Doesn’t suck.”

“No, Bibi.” Mercedes reached out, gripping Luce’s fingers tightly. The connection between these two women—women who meant so much to him in very different ways—was something he didn’t understand but loved seeing. “That doesn’t suck.”

“Sounds good,” Benny shouted down the hallway in response to a question from Mitty. They were setting up for a weekend run at Marie’s. They’d played this stage enough the set-up could be done in their sleep, so he was letting Mitty run the load-in while Mercedes chatted with Gypsy out by the bar. This meant he was squatted in the staging room alone, going through the microphone flight box, slotting fresh batteries in the belt packs of the in-ear monitors they’d be trying out tonight. They didn’t need them for Marie’s, wedge monitors on the edge of the stage were more than the place really needed, but Bethy had upgraded them from the ones Danny had rigged three years ago, muttering about tools and artists, and Benny wanted to try them out. More sponsors were a good thing. Humming under his breath, he had worked his way through three sets and was grinning at the neon nail polish Bonnie had used to identify hers when there were footsteps behind him.

He shook his head. He knew Mitty could do this. He knew it, but Mitty was nervous because it was his first solo run, so he’d been checking in with Benny every few minutes. “Dude, I said it sounded good. Go with your gut, man. You got this.”

When there still wasn’t a response, he grinned down at the equipment in his hands, thumb snapping the battery cover into place on the wireless receiver. “Mitty. Man, you got this.” He put one knee to the floor and twisted in place, grinning widely as he turned around to face the door.

His smile faded quickly when he saw it wasn’t Mitty standing there, and every muscle in his body locked in place in unpleasant surprise at his visitor. “Benita.” He hardly recognized his own voice, loud and angry in a way that shocked him, not realizing he had so much bottled up. With effort, he stopped himself from following those emotions, digging into his psyche to find out why she had so much power still, instead simply staring at her. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Hi, Benny.” Fuck him, her voice was soft and small, uncertain in a way he used to like. He’d liked it when she was unsure of herself; it was the only time he felt he had the upper hand in their dysfunctional relationship. Now, with what he had found with Lucia, he knew needing to have the upper hand was a sign that dysfunctional wasn’t even the right word for what he’d experienced before.

So different, what he and Luce had. They’d been finding their way through this new territory together, discovering things about each other and themselves which were good, and right, and held the promise of so much more.

“Don’t fucking ‘hi, Benny’ me. You got no place here, and you know it. Made it clear when you called two months ago, you got no place. Why are you here?” A call Ruby hadn’t been around to interrupt, but Mercedes had played bouncer, taking the device from his fingers and hanging up on Benita as soon as she realized who was on the phone. He pushed off his knee and stood, holding his ground with some effort when she took the first step towards him. “No closer, can’t hardly stand your air from here, would rather it not choke me.” Her flinch at his words caused him a moment of discomfort, but then he remembered everything that had happened over the past year and a half. The only parts she’d been present at were the bad ones, ones that were in response to shit she’d stirred up, so he tried to set aside his discomfort as he had the need to analyze his responses.

“Benny…” She trailed off, and he shook his head.

“What do you want?” She wouldn’t have made this trip for old times’ sake, so maybe asking bluntly what her end game was would pry the information out of her. “Know you, know you want something. What do you expect to get out of me?” She had taken two or three quick steps before he got his hand up, palm flattened towards her. “Said I didn’t want you any closer, bitch.”

This didn’t get a flinch but earned him a scorching glare. She hated the word, hated the c-word even more, and being around the Rebels, he’d learned a number of very unattractive ways to refer to women when they were being bitches, and he’d pull every one of those out if needed to make her keep her distance.

“I understand OY is doing well. I believe you’ve got a twelve-show run lined up. Isn’t that right?” Her head tipped slowly to one side, chin down in a way he figured she thought looked cute, but on her, looked like she was trying too hard. “Thought you could use a seasoned tour manager.”

This was the first he’d heard about a tour, but he had skipped a scheduled call with Bethy that afternoon, not worrying about it since she knew about their gig here tonight, would know they’d be getting ready for the show. Benita kept talking. “Figured if I showed up, you couldn’t say no. At least I hoped you wouldn’t say no.” Her eyes flashed, and she smiled at him. “I know how you like things, Benny. I can make everything easy for you.”

Another two steps from her had him retreating again, finding the wall with his back, and then her hands were on him. Even through his tee, her touch on him had bile rolling up the back of his throat as every encounter with Benita flashed in front of his eyes.

“You…” He was panting for breath, trying to force down the vomit surging upwards, shaking his head even as his hands came up, gripping her wrists and tearing them away from him. “Goddammit.” She twisted one hand free, and fast as a striking snake slipped it down the front of his pants, cupping his cock and balls with a firm squeeze that had the expected result.

Tipping her face up, she fucking smiled at him, the look one he remembered well, the one she wore just before she got whatever it was the spoiled bitch wanted. Took what she wanted from him, regardless of what he said. A sound registered and he looked up from Benita to see the door closing slowly, swinging shut on an empty hallway. This broke through his shock, and he pushed her away, hard, not giving one fuck that her nails scored him as her hand pulled free. Also not giving one fuck that she stumbled, falling backwards, reaching out with a hand to catch herself against the wall. “Benjamin.”

At the shocked and scolding tone, her Wyoming accent harsh and flat, nothing like the lilt of Lucia saying his name in the Spanish way, Benny threw back his head and laughed.
I’m stronger than this, stronger than she made me. I’ve got Luce, and she’s everything I need
. Shaking his head, he spoke through his laughter. “You got no place here, Benita. Don’t want your brand of crazy, don’t need it. I see now I never did. Don’t you see? I never needed you.” He felt his face twisting, memories of every hated thing she’d done nearly overwhelming him.

“Everything you did to me,” she opened her mouth to object, but he blazed on, “and don’t lie to yourself, cunt, you did things, showed me things I should never have learned. Surely not at fourteen. Not at twenty. The start of all my woes, I lay at your door.” He took a step towards her, stopping when she cowered into the corner. “Never raised my hand to you unless you begged for it. Never fucked you when you weren’t gagging for it. Never gave you anything you weren’t forcing my hand on.” Leaning in, he hissed, “And I remember everything,
bitch
. Every-fucking-thing.

Teeth grinding together, he told her, “I remember. Every line of coke you cut for me. Every goddamned drink you shoved in my hand. Fuck, woman, I didn’t even have my driver’s license the first time you roofied me, got me so fucked-up I couldn’t hardly talk for two days, but you got your dose of my cock. You and your fuck buddies. I remember
everything
.” He tapped the side of his head with two fingers, feeling like his blood was boiling through him, like his heart could jump from his chest. “Got it all up here, and I fucking hate it. I hate that you took all those things from me. My family. Stolen by your spoiled bullshit. Took my life, nearly.”
Searing pain pounding through his body, his brother’s voice, a broken question that echoed in his head, “He gonna die?”

His breath hitched hard, hurting his chest. “My doc? Told her all the fucked-up shit you did. Every bit of it. Took fuckin’ weeks to get that shit out, so fucking deep inside me, I couldn’t hardly dig it out. Couldn’t stand to say the words, have someone know what I’d done.” His hands were shaking, and he clenched them into fists. “Know what she said? Would your daddy wanna know she said you raped me, not only my body like you tried to do five minutes ago, but you raped my mind in a way it will fuck with me my whole life. I was fucking fourteen, Benita. Fourteen goddamned years old, and you raped me.

“I have to guard against thoughts of you because the things you had me do, encouraged, forced…those things eat at me. Eat at me in a way it feels like it won’t ever go away. Tearing little pieces of me free with every memory. Every thought of you. Killing me, it eats at me so bad. Used to see it every time I shut my eyes. Even sleep couldn’t make me safe from you.” Straightening, he swallowed, his throat raw, salt pouring down his throat from the tears streaming from his eyes.

“Fucking hate you in a way I never knew I could. You make me sick. You used me, and now I’m finally—
God
, fuck me—finally, free of you? You want to come back and try to fuck with me more? I’m sober, and you want to drag me back down to your level? Kill every good thing I’ve worked for?
Christ
, Benita! How do you live with yourself? How can you think you could slide back in and fuck with my life again? How did you think this was going to play out? Crook your finger, wrap your hand around my cock and give a tug, think I’d be headed up the hallway to the john so you could start back up? Or go down?

Throwing up his hands, he shouted, “I’m finally free of you. At last. Jesus, at
fucking
last. After my whole life, which you fucked up—I’m free. You think I’m stupid enough to want to go back? To you?” He was howling now, breath rushing out so fast with every word, pushing out the poison he’d had building inside him for so long.

“I finally have beauty in my life. Something so sweet and good you wouldn’t even recognize it. Beauty so far away from what you’ve ever given anyone, Benita, swear to God, you never saw anything like it. Now when I shut my eyes it’s with a vision of something I love more than anything. I have beauty and love, and you? Sad, man. So fucking sad. Your life. Jesus, will you just go away? Go away. You are an abusive bitch who needs to go find herself a new fucktoy. Go away.” His eyesight blurred, and he had to swallow hard to get the next words out, wiping at his nose with the edge of one hand, futilely trying to stop the tears. “I won’t give you another fucking moment. So fucking done with you, I can’t even see you in my rearview. You’re. Just. Gone.”

He sucked in a breath and held it; the hitching sobs so painful they were tearing at his chest. Turning to the door, he staggered sideways when his eyes landed on the mass of men standing there. Slate, Bear, Gypsy, even Mason. More who he didn’t know. They had entered the room while he shouted at Benita and now he couldn’t control himself, knowing these men had overheard every word.
Slate
had heard. “
FUCK
,” he screamed. His brother knew everything he never wanted him to know. “Fuck.” All the shit that covered his life for so long, they tasted because he’d spewed it on the air. Like the dung beetle Mason once accused him of being, he’d spread his shit far and wide, covering every man in this room. “Fuck me.” With his eyes squeezed tightly shut, he dropped his chin to his throat, “God, I’m so sorry.”

“Fucking bitch.” The force of emotion behind Mason’s words shocked him, and he looked up quickly to see the men moving past him, towards where Benita stood. “You do that shit?” His tone bordering on brutal, Mason was speaking to Benita, but stopped beside Benny, reaching a hand up and gripping his shoulder. Pulling him around to face her again, Mason asked again, “Seriously, bitch. You do that shit to this boy?”

“It’s not like that.” Her eyes were huge in her face, gaze darting from side-to-side, taking in the wall of muscled men standing between her and the door. “We were…” Her voice trailed off.

Spreading his other hand, the one still firmly gripping Benny and holding him in place when he would have bolted from the room, Mason shook his head. “Edu-fuckin-cate me, bitch.”

“It wasn’t like that.” Her whisper was scarcely audible, and Benny saw her lips were trembling, watched as two big tears slipped from the bottom of her lids and rolled down her cheeks.
Lies
. “I love him.”

“Bitch, you don’t fucking know what love is.” Slate had stepped in front of Benny, putting himself between his brother and the woman. “Knew you were a fucking cunt the first time I laid eyes on you, buying a fourteen-year-old kid clothes so you could take him out with your friends without being embarrassed because he didn’t have the flash you wanted. Made me feel like shit ‘cause I couldn’t give it to him. I didn’t know how sloppy a cunt you were.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, Slate rocked back on his heels. “See that shit now. Sloppy pussy. Fucking piece of lowlife gash right there.”

“How do you want this to go?” Mason’s question was directed at Benny, and he shook his head, not understanding. The hard grey eyes in front of him softened, and Mason took a breath. “She did that shit to my boy? I’d kill her. No joke, no bullshit. She’d not be breathin’ his air. Told you, people don’t fuck with my family.” This was said flatly, without emotion, and Benny was shocked to find he didn’t question the statement. “You’re not my boy.” Tipping his head to look around Benny to where Slate stood, Mason said, “But you’re family, Benny.” Slate nodded, and Mason turned his focus back to Benny, who didn’t understand what had passed between the two men, but knew it was important. “You give the word, she’s history. Like you said, not even in your rearview. You’ll never have to worry about this kind of shit again. So I’ll ask you again, how do you want this to go?”