Raw

  I was about to ask her about her family when she blurted out, “So, Happy, huh? He’s like, gay or bi-sexual or something?”

  That threw me off. “What?” I was confused.

  She just played with my fingers, and I asked through narrowed eyes, “What do you know, Angel?”

  “Just that he’s enjoying the company of Dave. And Nikki. So I just assumed he was gay, but he’d definitely be bi then, wouldn’t he?”

  I told her pointedly, “He’s not anything. He’s just Happy.” She looked at me like I was crazy when I reminded her gently but firmly, “You know how I feel about labels. Happy likes what he likes. He doesn’t need a label.”

  Her brows rose in thought. She nodded once. “Okies.”

  “Okies?”

  “You know? It’s like okay, but cuter.”

  Staring into her laughing eyes, I muttered, “Okies?”

  She burst into laughter, and I watched the way her face bunched in delight; her full lips framed her straight, white teeth, and it was then that I knew I was a goner.

  Which brings us to now, chilling in my bed, watching TV with my girl.

  “Why are you like this?” Lexi asks softly, as she reaches for my hand in the subtly-lit room. She entwines our fingers and whispers, “Something bad happened to you.”

  No shit, Sherlock.

  A minute passes and we remain silent, but her thumb strokes mine so gently that the urge to talk overcomes me. “Had a shitty childhood. That shitty childhood turned into a shitty adolescence. I met someone when I was just a kid who made me believe it might get better. In my head, I told myself that I had to make the most of what I had to make things better, so I did what I could. I ran away from said shitty childhood and lived on the streets for a few years. Things got better in some ways. But other things just got worse. Ended up in bad places, doing bad things to make a buck to live. Eventually bad – in my mind – became good.” A look of confusion crosses her face. I try to explain, “What I mean is that those bad things, I didn’t see as bad anymore. It was just my life. So I guess you could say I’m desensitized to a lot of bullshit. Most shit that would shock and disgust a normal person doesn’t shock me at all. And bad doesn’t seem so bad anymore. In my mind, most bad things are good.”

  Turning, I take in Lexi’s semi-lit silhouette, which watches me with wide eyes, clearly in shock over me revealing so much of myself. I’m shocked too. The only two people who really know about me – I mean really know about me – are Happy and Julius. Happy, Julius, and I all met in bad places. We get each other.

  Turning the tables on her, I ask, “What made you who you are?”

  Lexi shrugs. “A whole bunch of things. I don’t know really.”

  I tut, “Bullshit. I asked you a question, girl. I expect an answer.”

  She lies on her side, resting her chin on her upturned hand. “Okay, smartass. Well, I guess it started at home with me too. Things weren’t good. Mom was working all the time. Dad was a mean old bastard. Mom would work most nights because it was better money, and the dropkick I called Dad would spend most of that money on weed and booze, drowning out the mess that was his life. Me and my brother looked after each other as much as we could. But I couldn’t protect him the way he protected me. I was small and fragile. Whenever Dad got mad, my brother would shove me in my room and lock the door from the outside. They’d tussle, but nothing too bad. Eventually, my brother turned to drugs because Dad was…”

  Her eyes lose focus, and something churns in my gut. An unfamiliar feeling.

  Protectiveness. I feel protective of Lexi.

  I don’t know what to do with that.

  Shaking her head, her eyes meet mine and she forces a smile. “Everyone’s got a story. It could’ve been worse though. My neighbors growing up, they…” Her brow furrows. “They weren’t nice people. I was just a baby, maybe five or six, and I would hear them every night. Yelling and hurtin’ on their son.” She whispers, “He was just a boy. And I would sit in my room and…and just cry. Cry with him.”

  Her voice sounds pained, and my heart races.

  She adds quietly, “I met him once. I saw him limping into my backyard. He was hurt. And when he fell, even though I was just a kid, I couldn’t imagine leaving him there, all alone and scared.” She whispers again, “He was just a boy. A little boy. And he was hurt bad.”

  Pulling her hand to bring her closer to me, I wrap an arm around her waist and she buries her face into my neck. I need to know. “What happened with the little boy?”

  She inhales deeply and replies on an exhale, “He tried to fight me.” And I smile at her temple. She must feel it because she laughs softly. “Yeah. He was a tough one. Not wanting help from anyone, especially me. Very wary and suspicious.” Then she says something that makes my chest ache. “He was a little like you, Twitch.”

  Snuggling into me, she speaks into the side of my neck. “He didn’t want to tell me his name. But I got it out of him. He told me I’d forget once he was gone and I promised I wouldn’t. I remember trying so hard to make sure I didn’t forget it.” She smiles at my throat. “I even carved his name into the huge oak back home when I was ten.” She chuckles, “It’s like I wanted to prove to him that I kept my word.” Silence, then, “It didn’t matter, though. The day after I met him, there were ambulances and police cars all over his house. I hid in my room, covering my ears ‘til they left. And I knew…I just knew he was gone.”

  My aching chest is soothed when a feeling of warmth settles over me.

  Lexi yawns. “I guess that’s why I do what I do. You know? Help the kids I help. It’s sorta because of him. I’ll never forget him. He was a fighter. I always thought of him as a survivor.”

  I don’t want to ask. I don’t want to ask. Don’t ask. “Do you remember his name, baby?”

  Half asleep, she whispers, “Antonio Falco.”

  My body tenses, solid as a rock. I listen closely as her breathing deepens then evens out, and her body softens as she falls into a deep sleep.

  Fuck me. Fucking hell. I don’t believe this shit.

  Breathing heavily, my jaw tightens and I pull Lexi deeper into me, savouring her warmth and sweetness. Everything I’m too stubborn to let go of.

  Goddamn it! This wasn’t meant to happen. This… Fuck me… This changes everything.

  Lexi remembers me.

  A piercing shriek in my ear makes my entire body jolt.

  The shriek sounds again. Then again.

  My bedroom door bursts open, and Happy stands there in his boxers, as well as Ling in a skimpy nightie, both looking just woken. When Ling spots Lexi at my side, she scowls. Lexi lifts her head and mumbles, “What’s going on? What’s that freaking noise?” Blinking, she looks to the door and yells, “What is she doing here?”

  One question at a time, young grasshopper.

  Answering all her questions out of order, I say, “That’s the alarm; someone’s breaking in.” I look to Happy, who nods in confirmation. “And Ling lives here, Lex.”

  Ling smirks.

  Lexi’s brow furrows. “Why?”

  Not wanting to embarrass Ling, I pretend to kiss Lexi’s temple and whisper, “Got nowhere else to go.”

  Lexi pushes her temple into my touch before pulling back wide-eyed and screeching, “Someone’s breaking in?”

  Happy chuckles and Ling mutters, “Rookie.”

  I grin. “Don’t sweat it. Happens all the time.”

  Her eyes drift down to my chest as she stutters, “Ha-ha-happens all the time?”

  Slipping out of bed, I pull on a pair of boxers and order, “Stay up here. Whatever you hear, do not come down. You hear me?”

  She pulls the covers up to her neck and whispers, “I can’t promise that, but I’ll stay up here ‘til I can stay up here no longer pondering your imminent death.”

  Stopping in my tracks at her overly dramatic explanation, I ask, “How long you think that’ll be?”

  Looking up in thought, she mutters, “Abou
t five minutes.”

  “Deal.” Pointing at her, I order, “Do not come down. For five minutes.”

  As I walk out into the hall, Ling walks back to her room, closing the door behind her, while Happy follows behind me.

  I ask him, “What do we have today?”

  Happy snickers, “One guy. Looks drug-fucked. In the dining area, searching like a mad man.”

  Sighing, I mutter, “They never learn.”

  When we reach the staircase’s half-way point, we come face-to-face with a man, I’d say in his thirties, with blonde shaggy dreadlocks and bloodshot eyes, dressed in grey Bermuda shorts and a dirty white tee. I can’t figure out who sent him, if anyone sent him. From the looks of him, he could just be a junkie on a binge, desperately looking for something to hock for another fix.

  He stands there a moment in shock before taking off like a rocket up the hall.

  Oh, dear. Looks like he chose a dead end. What a shame.

  Walking calmly down the hall to the formal dining room, I make my way into the room to spot the man trying in vain to pull himself out of the high set windows. With a shake of the head, I reach for his ankle and pull. Hard. He collapses at my feet in a shaking, sweating mess ,and I ask, “Who sent you?”

  Shaking his head, he utters, “No one, man. No one.”

  Placing my hand on his head, he whimpers as I pat him like a dog. “Here I am, enjoying a night in with one of my girls, and I have to deal with this shit. I’d really like to know who sent you.”

  Shaking his head once more, my anger builds. I tangle my fingers tightly into his hair and lift him by his dreads. He cries out, and from the way his voice gurgles and chokes, I’m worried he’s going to be sick. Pulling him over to the exquisite antique dining table, I kick a heavy chair out of the way before throwing his torso onto the surface of the unblemished mahogany.

  Gripping his hair tight, I ask, “You wanna know why I keep my door locked at night?”

  Breathing heavily, he nods his head.

  Leaning closer to his ear, I tell him on a whisper, “To protect the people outside of it from me.”

  Pulling his head up by his hair, I grit my teeth and slam his head down on the dining table. Repeatedly.

  The sound of his nose snapping makes me shudder. I get too much pleasure from this shit. It’s almost alarming.

  Almost.

  Throwing him to the ground in an unconscious heap, my eyes catch something moving towards me. Lexi looks far away. She whispers distantly, “You said one of your girls.”

  “What?”

  Avoiding my eyes, she utters more firmly, “You said you were enjoying a night in with one of your girls. Not your girl.”

  My brow furrows. Did I say that?

  Reaching for her, she pulls back and sniffs, “I gotta go. It’s late.”

  Fuck me. She’s pissed.

  Before I can call out to her, she’s gone. Happy leans against the door, and I shrug at him in question. He nods, confirming I did say what cut Lexi deep.

  Annoyance and frustration well up inside of me.

  Looking down at the heap that is the intruder, I pull my leg back and kick him in the side. Once, twice, three times, then finally a fourth. He groans weakly, red-stained drool slides out of his mouth onto the floor. Pointing towards the door, I glower down at his face and say, “Now look at what you did!”

  Happy chuckles and I throw him a glare, warning him not to fuck with me.

  Sighing, I run a hand through my hair.

  Damage control at one AM.

  This should be fun.

  Reaching for my shot, I down it in one. I’m not a big drinker, but Nikki, Dave, and I have had some doozies together. I remember all those times as fun. I suddenly wonder why this time doesn’t feel so fun to me.

  “Here I am, enjoying a night in with one of my girls…”

  Without thinking, I reach for the next shot and attempt to drown out the man who poisons my usually-clear-thinking mind.

  Catching a taxi at this time of night to a bar to drink myself stupid seemed like a good idea at the time.

  But like my mama always said:

  Nothing good happens after two a.m.

  Using the GPS tracking system I installed on Lexi’s phone, I’m surprised to find her at a sleazy bar I used to attend frequently in the city at this time of night. That is, until I realize the reason I used to frequent this bar was because Lexi would come here with her friends.

  It’s so easy to keep an eye on someone when they’re by your side most of the time. I haven’t needed to watch Lexi much anymore. Besides, Lexi up-close beats far-away Lexi any day of the week.

  Sitting at the bar, looking at the empty shot glasses in front of her, she cloaks her emotions as she seems to speak robotically to the man next to her. I pull in my anger at the sight of the man placing his hand on her arm, and make my way over until I’m standing behind her.

  “Stand up, Lexi. We’re going,” I tell her, as I curl my fingers around her wrist.

  Looking up, her face betrays her hurt. Struggling to get out of my grip, she slurs, “No. I’m not going with you. I’m staying here. Staying with—” She drifts off before looking at the man with pleading eyes. He chuckles, “Brad.” She announces, “Staying with Brad!”

  Tightening my grip on her, I put my lips to her ear, “You’re not staying. You’re coming home.”

  You’re coming home? I meant to say ‘to my place’. That’s… I don’t even want to analyze that right now. I’ve got bigger fish to fry.

  Snatching her wrist out of my hand, her eyes void and her voice becomes bleak. “Don’t want to go with you. You’re poison.”

  My chest pangs.

  Well shit. That fuckin’ stings. Like a bitch.

  It’s not a lie, but it stings still.

  I’ve never begged before. Never in my life. I sure as fuck am not gonna start now. Playing it cool, I chuckle. “Babe, what do you think you’re doing here anyways? This place…it’s not for the likes of you.”

  What I don’t say is ‘You’re too good to be in a place like this. A place like this pulls at your good and dulls your sparkle. And I like your sparkle.’

  Staring down at my chest, she takes a step closer to me and whispers miserably, “I’m here to let Brad fuck me.” My cheek ticks and my head implodes. She steps closer to me to add, “He’s going to fuck me. Fuck me ‘til I forget you. ‘Til I forget I ever met you. He’s helping me drown you out, and I like when I’m not thinkin’ about you.” She looks into my eyes and repeats on a whisper, “You’re poison.”

  I’ve officially had enough of this conversation.

  Taking her elbow, I pull her towards me, when Brad the asshole stands and starts, “Hey! Let go of her! She doesn’t want to go with you. You heard—”

  Reaching into the back of my jeans, I pull out my .32 semi and point it right in the middle of his brows. Stepping away so quickly with his arms raised, he stumbles backward into a stool.

  But I can’t walk away yet. His humiliation is something I need right now. I need him to learn. What, exactly? I’m not sure. But I want to see his fear.

  Lexi pulls on my elbow and quietly says a defeated, “Okay, Twitch. You win. I’ll go with you. Leave him alone and we’ll leave, babe. Just me and you.”

  It’s my turn to snatch my elbow from her alcohol-weakened grip. Taking two large steps, I push the barrel of the pistol into his forehead, hard. Listening to him whimper brings me a rush. Warmth spreads through me. Leaning closer to him, I grit my teeth and say quietly, “You got something to say to me, wise guy? Fuckin’ say it.”

  Brad starts to shake, and I can feel eyes on me. Most likely from everyone in the bar. Lucky, I know the bartender. Well. Jimmy and I had business dealings. I know he knows I’m doing what I think I have to.

  I give Brad a full thirty seconds to answer before I whisper, “Yeah, I thought so,” and move away from him. Placing the Colt back in my waistband, I move to stand by Lexi, wrap my arm around
her shoulders, and tuck her into my side. Her hand slides up to the middle of my chest, and she fists my shirt. “Let’s go, babe. Let’s go,” she whispers.

  Lifting my finger, I point hard at the quivering mess that is Brad and announce loudly, “No one plays with my things. No one touches what’s mine. This…” Sliding my hand down to Lexi’s ass, I make a show of cupping it and squeezing. Hard. “…this is mine. Got it?”

  Brad – still with his hands raised in surrender – nods vigorously, and I know I’ve made my point.

  To Brad. And to Lexi.

  It’s selfish to keep her around when I know she wants time alone. I know it is. But I can’t let her go.

  You need her.

  I don’t need anyone. I’m just selfish.

  At least, that’s what I tell myself.

  “You left.”

  Driving Lexi back to her place, I know we have to talk about what happened. This whole having a girlfriend thing blows so far. I repeat myself, “You left after you said you wouldn’t.”

  Looking out of the window, she mutters miserably, “Yeah, well, I figured if you couldn’t keep your promise, then I shouldn’t have to keep mine either.”

  It’s times like this that I wish my brain worked like everyone else’s.

  Breathing deeply, I try in vain to calm my racing heart. “I’m not… It’s not like… I didn’t mean it, Angel. I swear. There is no one else. Just you.”

  I wait patiently, but she doesn’t respond. Why did I think I would say what I had to say and she would just jump into my open arms cooing, ‘I’m yours!’?

  Stupid movies and their completely inaccurate argument scenes.

  Reaching over to hold her hand, I’m surprised that she lets me. Linking our fingers, I pull her hand onto my thigh and try again. “I’m not used to having one woman, Lex.” She scoffs and I cringe, knowing (now) that it wasn’t the right thing to say. “What I meant is that I’ve not ever given myself to one woman. I’ve always avoided relationships because I don’t like what comes with them. This being one of those things.”