“You’re quiet though,” she continued. “And you make funny faces.”
“Funny faces?” I asked, barely able to work my vocal cords.
“Yeah, you’re always like this.” She put her fists on her hips, curled her lip, and squinted her eyes at me.
If I hadn’t been feeling like someone had picked me up and ripped me into shreds, I would have laughed at her impression of me. “I don’t think I look like that.”
“Well, not exactly,” she answered, now with both wraps on her hands. She swatted at the air and bounced around me. “Stinging flowers and floating bees,” she said, punching some more.
“What?” I asked, confused.
“You know, Mamala-ladi.”
“Mama-what?”
“Boom, boom, boom,” she said, striking my thigh. “I’m floating like a bee. Look at me go.” She bounced around some more and then it clicked.
“Do you mean Muhammad Ali?”
“Sure,” she said while dancing around some more, adding some pathetic kicks to the mix.
“I think you meant you ‘float like a butterfly and sting like a bee’.”
“Sure. Pow, pow, pow. I’m a champion.”
I steered her to the hanging bags as she continued to bounce. “Easy there, killer. Let’s get you punching correctly first.”
I spent a good ten minutes with her, ignoring the overwhelming feeling of discomfort and violence. Violence for the position I’ve put Madeline in, a life without a father, a life comparing other men to what she thinks she would want when it came to a dad.
The pain was consuming; the heartache was too much. There was only one way I knew how to get rid of this all-encompassing feeling of complete hatred for myself. It was time to call the boys.
Chapter Twenty Four
My past…
Humidity seeped into my pores as the early morning light started to peek through the alleys of New Orleans. Sanitation crews ran up and down the streets, washing away the sins from the night before, preparing for a fresh start of a new day. Musky trash and bile scattered the curbs and moisture glistened on the brick walls, displaying the rough heat of Louisiana in the summer.
I could smell the bloodshed waiting for me. The air electrified with violence as I waited in my normal spot, my selected spot where no one would dare disturb what happened in such an area.
Evil lurked in the dark and dreary alley I’d chosen. Malevolent and ugly crimes were conducted in such alleyways, and that was what I was here for.
It was the anniversary of Marshall Duncan’s death. It was the anniversary of my biggest regret. It was the anniversary of the day I’d let my soul slip away from me and the day I’d sworn to the heavens above I would punish myself until my last breath.
There was only one way I celebrated this day, only one way I knew how to, and that was by getting lost in pain.
Heavy footsteps padded along the cobblestone streets. I knew those footsteps. They belonged to large, intimidating men with steel-toed boots and iron fists. They belonged to the men I’d paid to come beat the shit out of me.
Like usual, they rounded the corner, wearing black pants and shirts, cracking their knuckles and looking hungry. I paid them well to attack to me, to make me forget. I fought back sometimes, putting in a few punches here and there, nothing too damaging. I saved that for the bags, something I should have thought of when I was standing face-to-face with Marshall Duncan.
I was leaning up against the wall of one of the buildings that flanked the alleyway when they came up to me.
“Looking good, Mr. Haywood. Another year has done you well.”
I observed Vinny’s appearance and said, “How’s the wife?”
“Just had twins.”
“No shit.” I shook my head. “They yours?”
Before I saw it coming, Vinny cocked his fist back and hit my jaw straight on, sending me to the ground. Pain ricocheted through me—intoxicating pain, welcome pain.
“You know damn well they’re mine,” Vinny replied with mirth in his voice.
I stood up and gripped my jaw. “Fuck, wouldn’t have guessed you had time to work out if the wife just had twins.”
“Got to stay in shape for the missis.” Vinny flexed, showing off his bulky body. His bulk wasn’t defined since he loved his wife’s Italian food way too much, but beneath a thin layer of lasagna was some muscle that could do quite a bit of damage. I nodded at the other two men Vinny had brought with him. “New goons?”
“Meet my nephews, Johnny and Marco.”
I tilted my chin at them and then turned back to Vinny. “Nice that you’re keeping the business in the family.”
“We’re all about familia,” Vinny answered, laying his Italian accent on thick. “Are you done with the tea time?”
“Yeah, make it good. They know the rules?”
“They’ve been informed. Only a few head shots, mostly body, and they are aware of your ability to fight back.”
“Then take me fucking out,” I replied, opening my arms wide.
Marco and Johnny were hesitant, unsure how to comprehend the situation. They most likely thought of me as some crazy fuck who paid to get his ass kicked, and yes, that was true, but most of the time, people liked to be provoked in order to get into a fight, so I did what I did best on this day: I provoked.
“You just going to stare at me, you little bitch?” I asked Marco. He tried to fake me out with a little step forward, but I stood strong. “Fucking amateur, you really think your little juke move would work on me?”
Marco looked at Vinny, who was standing back, waiting for his turn, wondering if he should just come at me.
“Fucking Christ,” I said while I charged at Marco and pinned him against the opposite wall. Johnny was instantly on my back, defending his cousin. Just what I’d expected.
Marco squirmed underneath my grasp, and Johnny clawed at my back but left no impression on me, so I continued to hold on to Marco, slamming him against the brick building until a knee pelted itself in my liver.
“Fuck.” I let go of Marco and leaned against the wall. That was when a fist flew into my eye, shooting my head straight back into the brick. In a matter of seconds, my eye swelled shut, making the fight that much harder, that much more entertaining for me.
Call me a masochist, but I lived for this day, the day I was able to endure more pain than humanly possible.
My head was reeling, my pulse was rapid fire, and my will to fight was gone as I tried to navigate where everyone was but there was no hope. They surrounded me and used my closed eye to their advantage.
Blow after blow, I was tossed around the circle, kicked in the side, pelted in the arms, in the ribcage, in the chest.
Vinny’s tall frame hovered over me as his fist rammed into my side, making me buckle over just as his knee came up and knocked me in the head, sending me backward to the ground. One of the nephews straddled me and pinned my arms down with his legs, sending blow after blow into my sides and then one to the other side of my jaw.
Sharp pangs ran through me, my vision started to fade, and the slow warm drip of blood crept across my face. The person pinning me down fled, and when I thought they were done, they started taking turns kicking me with their steel-toed boots.
Kick after motherfucking kick had my stomach revolting and my chest heaving for air. The pain was excruciating, and even in my numbest state, I still felt every knock they threw my way.
Everything around me became hazy, and I started to slip into a dark delirium when I heard the distinct sound of Jett’s voice.
“I think that’s enough, Vinny.”
Why was Jett here? He never came down to the alley because he didn’t agree with my punishment, he didn’t believe it was a way to live my life, but what the fuck did he know? He had no idea of the kind of pain I went through on a daily basis.
“Mr. Colby, what a pleasure.”
The guys backed off as Jett approached. “Vinny, congratulations on the twins. How is
Theresa doing?”
“Great, thanks for asking. You should see the size of her tits. Doc says I can’t go at her right now, but shit is she making it hard on me.”
Jett laughed shortly. “Listen to the doc. You don’t want to do any permanent damage.”
“You know I will,” Vinny replied. “I think we’re done here. Are you going to collect the mess?”
“Yeah, unfortunately. Maybe next year, you don’t show up.”
“He pays me too well to let that happen. Sorry, man.”
“I would pay you more not to do it.”
Silence filled the alleyway as I assumed Vinny thought about Jett’s offer. If I hadn’t been in so much pain and my voice might reach them, I would have protested but there was no use.
“You make a compelling offer, Mr. Colby, but I couldn’t do that to Mr. Haywood. I see an empty man inside him, a hurting man. I know what this kind pain can do to him. I know it helps him forget. I don’t want to take that away from him. He needs this.”
Vinny was my kind of people.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe I can convince you another time.”
“Don’t count on it.”
Vinny stepped over me, giving me one last kick to the hip. “Until next year, Mr. Haywood. Take care of yourself.”
Vinny and his nephews retreated, leaving me aching on the ground of New Orleans.
Jett crouched next to me and turned me so he could see my face. “Fucking hell,” he muttered. “Why do you do this, Kace?”
I rolled to my stomach and pressed my hands against the ground to lift myself up. I stayed there on my hands and knees for a bit, trying to catch my breath and watching the blood drip from my face with my one good eye.
Small crimson droplets flooded into a puddle seeping into the cobblestone, soaking the streets with yet another sin that would be washed away later.
I coughed a few times. The feeling of glass shards ripped through my lungs, and I knew they’d broken at least a few of my ribs. It would be a long recovery with no painkillers. I looked forward to it.
“Take me home,” I muttered, allowing Jett to grab my arm and help me up.
“Why, Kace?” he asked again, lifting my arm over his shoulders to help me walk. I had tunnel vision, only able to see a few feet in front of me.
“It’s too much,” I said, coughing again.
“What is?” Jett asked, bringing me around the corner to an idling car. Before Jett helped me into the vehicle, he made me look at him and answer his question.
“The memory, Jett. The memory is too fucking much.”
He understood and helped me into the car, where towels and ice were waiting for me.
I knew my best friend loathed this day. I knew he hated seeing me like this, and I knew he hated the fact that he couldn’t alter my decision-making process on this day.
Jett was a man who strived to save lives. This was one fucking life he wouldn’t be able to save, no matter how hard he tried.
Chapter Twenty Five
My present…
I rolled to my side and looked at the clock just before it started ringing, letting me know it was time to get up. Every last inch of my body burned as I threw the covers off me.
There was a lack of energy in my body and an abundance of pain throbbing down every inch of my frame.
Shower. I needed a hot shower.
Exerting my muscles, I lifted my body off my mattress and slowly walked to my bathroom where I turned the water to the hottest setting. I stumbled to the shitter where I pissed a liter worth of whiskey while steam from the shower started to billow from the top.
Flushing the toilet, I carefully walked over to the shower where I stepped in and allowed the searing hot water to run over me. The water was so hot, it almost felt cold. With my face in the water, I pressed my hands against the tile and let the water run over my aching body.
Vinny had been surprised to get a call from me last night, but with a little coaxing, he’d met me in the alley and taken care of business. There had been a concerned look on his face, but I knew he wouldn’t ask questions. He was just there to do a job. He’d left me bruised and battered, making sure to stay below the neck since I had to teach a class that morning.
I never doubled up in a year, ever, but after seeing Madeline and Linda yesterday, I’d needed the pain. I’d needed a release, and Vinny was able to deliver.
Water continued to run down my back, reminding me that in fact, I was still alive, a privilege I shouldn’t be granted but that also shouldn’t be wasted. I gathered up my soap and washed and thought about yesterday.
It’d been one of my most fucked up days to date. Not only had Linda and Madeline tilted my entire fucking world, but Lyla had shown up, letting me know she would never truly let go.
How the hell was I supposed to push away from a woman who wouldn’t let me? She was making this entirely too difficult, but it wasn’t like I fucking helped any. No, I went and told her she was practically my fucking crutch.
Christ.
What possessed me in that moment to say that to her was beyond me. Maybe it was because all I could think about was how beautiful she was, how her skin looked so soft under the gym lights and how her lips were calling out to me, to fucking make her mine, brand her with my shameful dysfunction.
With the soap, I lathered up my hand and washed my stomach as visions of Lyla kept passing through my mind.
I thought about her face, her breasts, her body.
My hand found my growing erection and without remorse, I stroked myself to the image of Lyla writhing underneath me, an image that had been branded in my brain.
I heard her little cries of pleasure, felt her grabbing hold of my ass, urging me deeper inside her. I growled and pumped my rigid cock. I just needed to think about her, and I was fucking hard.
Her laugh echoed through my head as my sore arm exerted itself by pumping my cock. I shouldn’t be thinking of her this way. I was only torturing myself, allowing myself to picture her in my mind constantly, but her beautiful face granted me little reprieve in this fucked up life of mine. She made me forget for a single moment in time.
I clung to the moment, riding it until I developed a new one. It was the one thing that made me not let Vinny push me over the edge, to finally take my life.
A groan escaped me as my stomach coiled, my balls tightened, my breathing hitched, and I came. With a couple more strokes, my orgasm eclipsed me, relieving me of the pressure that built up in my core. A short amount of relief fell over me but was quickly washed away when the slightly euphoric state I experienced ended.
In disgust, I placed my head on the tile of my shower and thought about my life.
Could I really go back to the Haze Room?
It wasn’t like I had a choice. If I didn’t show up to work on time, Jett would be at my door faster than I could shove a bottle of whiskey to my mouth.
Even though my mind was elsewhere, I knew there was only one place I could go, and it was the last place I ever wanted to be.
It was time to go back to the Haze Room.
***
The community center was already crawling with people signing up for a free membership and going on tours with the girls, who were dressed in khaki shorts and polos. It was almost comical to see the Jett Girls walking around in such normal clothes rather than their presentation outfits that consisted of bras, thongs, and smaller-than-scarves costumes.
Goldie sat at the front desk, greeting me with a smile, but instead of engaging in conversation, I just nodded and headed to my room. She really was the perfect person to greet people, a fucking ray of sunshine. Even though I hated to admit it, her smile had eased the tension in my shoulders.
She got up and followed me. “Hey,” she called, grabbing onto my shoulder to gather my attention.
“Ahh, fuck,” I mumbled while trying to pull away. Maybe I had spoken too soon about her easing some tension. Her grip on my arm sent shards of pain screaming through my body,
thanks to Vinny’s thorough work.
“Whoa,” Goldie said while backing up a step. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I replied, holding on to my cup of coffee a little tighter while the burn in my arm started to settle.
“Don’t lie to me,” Goldie said with her hands on her hips.
“Mind your own business,” I shot back, not wanting to get into it with her.
“You are my business. You’re my employee.”
“I’m you’re employee? How do you figure that when I’m the manager of this damn place?”
I was actually rather interested in hearing Goldie’s explanation.
She bit her lip while she tried to nail down her train of thought. Her eyes lit up the minute she realized what she was going to say. I geared up for what I could only imagine would be an obnoxious response.
“You might be the manager, Kace, but Jett is the boss of this facility, and do you know who owns Jett? I do,” she said, pointing at herself. “That man can’t function without me turning his head in the right direction. Therefore, I control Jett, and that means I control you—”
“You control me, little one?” Jett asked, walking up behind her undetected.
“Gahh.” She gripped her chest, startled. Whipping around, she pushed Jett and said, “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“I have to if I’m going to keep you in check.” Jett smiled at her while he pulled her in by the waist.
They were so fucking nauseating.
“Keep me in check? As if I’m a loose cannon?”
Jett just raised an eyebrow, letting Goldie know he meant what he’d said. Surprisingly, she didn’t oppose but instead agreed and pulled him into her embrace.
She turned to me and said, “Still, I want to know what’s wrong even though you might not be my employee,” Goldie succumbed.
“You’re damn right I’m not your employee.”
I’d started to walk away when Jett called my name. I stopped and waited for him to say something to me. “See Vinny last night?”