Dirty Nights

by A. M. Hargrove

  My suspicions are correct. At around nine thirty, here he comes, his arms laden with groceries. After about five minutes, I head inside. No question about it, he’s startled when I walk through the door.

  “Hello Ryder.”

  “Skylina. What are you doing here?”

  “I might ask you the same thing.”

  “You might.”

  “But you won’t answer, will you?”

  He’s silent as he stares at me. As I look back at him, I’m shocked at his appearance. He was built like a brick wall before, but now he’s …

  “Ryder, what have you been doing?” Before he can back away, I lift the tight T-shirt he’s wearing. He’s nothing but pure hard muscle.

  “Um, yeah, I’ve been hitting the gym a lot.”

  “A lot. Looks like eight hours a day. Are you taking steroids?”

  A bitter laugh rips out of him. “Skylina, really. I’m a fucking addict. Do you honestly think I would dope?”

  “No, but from the looks of you, I …”

  “I’m pumping a lot of iron and hitting the bag pretty hard. That’s it.”

  “Frustrated much?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am. Extremely. You see, there’s this girl and she … never mind.” He rubs his neck. “I need to go.”

  “No, don’t,” I say in a rush. “Please stay.” I put my hand on his arm. Please Ryder don’t go. I want you to stay so badly because you mean so much more to me than my piddly words. That’s what I want to say to him, but I refrain.

  His chest expands with his breath and his hand reaches back to rub his neck again. But then he says, “I can’t. I gotta go.”

  Without another word, he leaves. And my heart aches again like he just walked away with a piece of it and left the rest of it broken and scattered across the floor.

  EIGHT

  Ryder

  “Case, it’s me. I need your help.”

  “Wassup?”

  “Can you get me Skylina’s dad’s addy?”

  Dead silence.

  “Case? You there?”

  He groans into the phone. “Buddy, what’cha doing? Why do you need that?”

  My grip tightens on the phone. “Case, I just need to do something.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Leaving the gym. Why?”

  “Meet me at the coffee shop. Joe and Mo’s.”

  “Yeah. Okay.” I know better than to put up a fight on this. He’ll win.

  He’s there when I walk in the place, seated with a cup waiting on me.

  “Decaf?” I ask.

  “Yeah. You’ve been too jacked for regular. Spill.”

  “I just wanna go and talk to the guy.”

  “Dude, what’re you gonna say that will change the outcome of things?”

  “Nothing. But Skylina deserves it.”

  “Does she know?”

  “Nope. Haven’t talked to her in a couple of weeks.”

  Case leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. His eyes don’t leave mine. Hell, he doesn’t even blink.

  “You look like the strings on a tennis racket you’re so damn tight. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

  “I know. I’m taking care of it in the gym. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Dude, the gym only does so much. Look at you. You look like the fucking Hulk. And it ain’t working, my man. You need to talk to someone.”

  “I’m not doing that psychobabble bullshit. I already know I’m fucked up. I don’t need some shrink to verify that.”

  “Ryder, please …”

  “Case, all I need is his address. If you won’t do it, I’ll find someone who will.”

  He sighs. “Right. Okay, but I go with you. And we come right back.”

  “Fine. But you don’t say a word when I’m in front of the man.”

  “Deal.”

  “Book the tickets. And make ‘em first class. I don’t do coach.”

  “Goddamn. Who are you? Prince William?”

  “Right, Case. I’m sure the Monarchy has its own private jet. Book the fucking tickets.”

  Skylina’s dad lives right outside of L.A. We fly first class and Case is happy we did. It was a long flight and we leave for New York again in five hours. We pick up our car and head straight to Mr. O’Donnell’s. When we pull into his driveway, my fury hits an all time high. He lives in a McMansion, equipped with two Mercedes and in the meantime, his daughter is a fucking hooker.

  “You good with this?” Case asks.

  “Yep,” I say through my clenched teeth I’m seething but I’ll get through it.

  I push the button for the doorbell and leave my finger on it. It buzzes continually.

  “Ryder, is this really necessary?”

  “Probably not, but it does give me some small sense of satisfaction.”

  The door opens and a man in maybe his early fifties looks at us and says, “That dang buzzer must be sticking.”

  “No, wasn’t the buzzer. It was the buzzer pusher. Are you Michael O’Donnell? Born in Brooklyn, New York. Formerly married to Mary Elizabeth O’Donnell and father of Skylina O’Donnell?”

  “Uh, yeah. What’s going on?”

  “Mr. O’Donnell, you are a piece of shit. That’s what’s going on. Do you know that your daughter, that beautiful amazing human being that you somehow miraculously fathered, was forced into prostitution by her mother when she was sixteen years old so she could buy drugs for her? Do you know that bitch of a female, that piece of fucking dog shit you’re married to, lied to you about your daughter? Told you shit about her that wasn’t true? Skylina wouldn’t steal anything from anyone. Hell, you have to practically beg her to fucking take something from you. But steal? Never would she steal. Look at her!” I have a five by seven picture from our day at Luna Park where Skylina is tasting cotton candy for the first time. I pull it out of the envelope and shove it in his face. “She’s twenty-fucking-three years old and this is the first goddamn time she’d ever tasted cotton candy for Christ’s sake. And here you sit, in L-fuckin-A, with your fancy house and cars, while your daughter strips and fucks men, so she can keep her mother off the streets. Now how does that make you feel? Look at this beautiful face, Mr. O’Donnell. LOOK AT IT! Because I hope like hell that piece of shit bitch you’re married to now is worth the way you fucked up your daughter’s life, your own flesh and blood, you worthless dickweed! You belong together. Have a good rest of your fucked-up life.” My palm smashes the picture against his face right before I spin around and stomp to the car. Case is on my heels and we get in and drive away as Michael O’Donnell watches us, mouth hanging open, from his fancy front porch.

  When we get a few blocks away, Case says, “Well, that went well.”

  I turn to look at him and he has a smirk on his face. A second later I bust out laughing. “Indeed it did. I didn’t punch him, like I wanted to, but I did grind that picture in a bit.”

  “Hmm. I almost punched him for you. Nice work, buddy.”

  We fist bump. But in reality, I want to punch my hand through the windshield for the pain Skylina has experienced because of that bastard.

  When we land, we get in a cab. Case wants to know where I’m headed.

  “The gym.”

  “Dude, you need to talk to someone. I’m serious.”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  We’re silent for the remainder of the ride. When I get to the gym, I wrap my hands and go to it on the bag, pretending it’s Mr. O’Donnell’s face I’m tearing into. An hour and a half later, sweat pours off of me like water and I break for some rehydration. Then I go at it again. There’s an undercurrent of energy in me … a raging inferno that I need to extinguish and I hope that another round with the bag will do it.

  It’s late and the gym is closing up when I finally leave. My stomach rumbles with hunger and it reminds me that it’s been hours since I’ve eaten. There’s a pizza joint between here and where I’m hanging my hat these days, so I duck inside for a quick bite. A large saus
age and pepperoni pie later, I head back to Case’s place. Well, it’s not really his place. It’s a place he maintains for NA. Some of the recovering addicts need temporary housing and this place is set up for that. He’s reminded me several times that this place is supposed to be temporary. Guess I’ve sort of passed that since I’ve been holed up here for three months now.

  As I round the corner, I see two guys taking it out on some poor kid. Great. This is exactly what I need. Blowing off some more steam may ease that fire within me. My fists connect with bone and I hear crunching and their screams. But I don’t stop until I’m satisfied they’re down for the count. Then the kid who they were beating up looks at me and I ask, “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “Call 911. Get the cops here.”

  “Okay.”

  “They’ll be out for a while so you’re safe till the police get here.”

  “Hey, thanks.”

  I don’t really know why I don’t stay. Maybe it’s because I’m not in the mood for questions. Whatever the case, the walk to my temporary home is short and fast. Since I’m bloody from the fight, I hop in the shower and get cleaned up. By the time I’m done, my eyes barely stay open.

  The next morning, Case is beating my door down. Now what? When I roll over to get out of bed, my body feels like it had it out with an armored tank and the damn tank won. Turning the door knob is even an effort.

  The door swings open and Case stands there holding my bloody clothes in his hands.

  “Wanna tell me what this is all about?”

  Ah fuck. I must’ve left my clothes on the bathroom floor. “Morning to you too,” I huff.

  “Jesus, what the hell did you do last night?”

  “Went a thousand rounds with the bag. Then on my way home, some kid was getting his lights punched out by two punks so I punked them instead.”

  “You call the cops?”

  “Nope. I told the kid to when I was leaving. Didn’t want to hang around for questions.”

  He eyes me something fierce. “Any particular reason?”

  “Yeah! Look at me Case. If they start to dig, what will they find? A drug abuser. I don’t need that shit.”

  “Okay, calm down.”

  My ass drops back on my bed and I rest my elbows on my knees. “Jesus, I’m sore.”

  “I can tell. Let me look at your hands.” I hold them out for his inspection. “You ice these?”

  “Nah. Too tired last night. That’s why I left my shit in the bathroom. My eyes were slamming shut.”

  “Be right back.”

  Case is the best. Don’t know where I’d be today if Dot hadn’t sent me his way. In the morgue, most likely. He charges back in with two large bags filled with ice and holds the tops of them open.

  “In you go.”

  “Man, I hate this part.”

  “Yeah, well, if you’d go talk to someone like I keep telling you, this ice wouldn’t be part of your day.”

  “Damn, I don’t know what hurts worse. This or leaving them alone.”

  “I know what you mean. By the way, Happy Birthday,” Case says.

  I shoot him a look that lets him know I think he’s off his rocker. “Not my birthday.”

  “Oh, hell yeah it is. Today is the anniversary of your first year of sobriety. It’s your birthday, man. Your first birthday of your second chance at life.”

  How the hell did I forget this? I’ve been carrying around this chip for twelve months now, rubbing it between my two fingers like it’s a fucking piece of gold. And today, when the one year mark is reached, my mind totally blanks it out. What. The. Fuck. My hands that are stuck in two big bags of ice, cover my face and I cry. Like a fucking baby. When my pussy-ass finally shuts up, my eyes connect with Case’s.

  “Yeah, man. I cried like a damn baby too. It’s cool. One year is a landmark. But that doesn’t mean you’re out of the woods. My toughest time was at eighteen months. Hang tight, dude. You’re gonna make it.”

  “Case, this thing with Skylina …”

  “Yeah, it’s eating a hole in you. I can see it. Talk to her, man. You’ve gotta tell her how you feel.”

  “I don’t know if I can. She’s … she’s trapped and I don’t want to make her feel any more trapped.”

  “But you have to tell her how you feel. About her.”

  “Maybe.”

  “When do classes start?”

  “Summer session starts next week.”

  “Talk to her. You can’t live here forever. I gotta go. See you at the meeting tonight.”

  “Right. Thanks Case.”

  When I’m finished icing my hands I decide to pay a visit to Skylina. It’s been over a month since I’ve seen her … since I’ve taken her groceries or anything. A bagel would be a nice surprise. And maybe a latte.

  Hurrying up the steps, I unlock the door and find an empty apartment. All her belongings are gone. The place is nice and tidy but she’s left nothing behind. Even the giant stuffed panda is gone. On the kitchen counter sits a note and her key to the apartment.

  R,

  Thanks so much for allowing me to crash here.

  But I know I’ve been an intrusion so it was time I moved on.

  I waited and waited for you to drop by, to tell you in person,

  but it’s obvious you don’t want to see me anymore.

  I understand and don’t blame you a bit.

  But I did want you to know that you made me

  feel safer than I’ve ever felt before, so thanks for that.

  And thanks for taking me to Luna Park.

  It was the best time of my life and I’ll cherish that memory forever.

  See you around.

  S

  An icy hand grips my heart. What did I expect? That she would stay here forever? She’s not someone that willingly takes a thing, so I should’ve known she’d leave. I pull out my phone and go through the pictures of her from Luna Park over and over and over. And each time I look at her, my heart cracks a little more. What did I do? Why did I leave? Why wasn’t I willing to accept her the way she was? Now I’m paying the price and it hurts. No, it doesn’t simply hurt. It burns. It kills. It destroys.

  This is the night it begins. The night when people start to pay. I purposely hunt down those who are hurting others and I make it my mission to destroy them. Muggers and rapists don’t stand a chance around me. I hunt, and when I find them, I bring them down to a bloody mess. It’s the only way to assuage my pain … to make me forget her and to take my mind off of drugs.

  NINE

  Skylina

  As soon as I hit the back entrance of Exotique-A, Jimmy’s there telling me that J.D. wants to see me in his office. He says he doesn’t know what he wants, but I have a good idea. I head upstairs. The bodyguards let me pass. They recognize me and he’s told them to expect me.

  When I knock on the door, J.D. tells me to come in.

  “Hey J.D. What’s up?”

  “Sit.” He motions for me to take a seat on one of his leather sofas. He shuts down his computer and walks around to take a seat next to me.

  “Baby doll. We have issues. I’ve mentioned this to you before, but you brushed it off. Now, you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re my number two girl. Cara’s my number one and the reason she’s number one is she’s willing to do things with her clients that you’re not. And that’s cool. I’m cool with that, baby doll. I’ve got you matched up with my highest paying johns that are willing to play by your rules. But baby, I’m getting complaints from them now. You’re not into their games. Clyde’s called me twice telling me you’ve changed and aren’t into his technique. He says you don’t come anymore. Georgie boy told me you didn’t want to play the dog and pony show like he wanted last time. Now Big Daddy’s taken care of you since you were eighteen. I’ve done all I can to keep things the way you want baby doll, but things have gotta change with you. I need my
old Lena back and fast, or I’m gonna have to take you off my client list.”

  “No J.D.! I promise I’ll get my head back in the game.”

  “You gotta Lena. I mean come on. How hard is it to fake an orgasm? And George? Seriously? Slap his ass and tell the man to howl like a fucking wolf. I don’t care what stupid crazy ass shit the guy likes. Put a fuzzy dog tail up his ass for fucks sake. But keep the guy happy. He pays and tips like a mutha. Okay baby doll? And the next time Clyde goes down on you, act like it’s the best tonguing you’ve ever had. Got it?”

  “Yeah, I got it.”

  “Okay. Now who loves you best?”

  “Big Daddy loves me best.”

  “Now give me some sugar right here.” He taps his cheek and I kiss it.

  “Good Lena. Now get your ass to work baby.”

  Shiz! I’ve really got to get my head in the game. Ryder has screwed with it so badly. I can’t stand the fact that I’m with someone else, when I want to be with him. When I’m with any of my clients, I almost puke on them, thinking about what I’m doing. The only one I want to do those things with any more is Ryder. He’s ruined me.

  Jimmy’s waiting for me, as usual, right outside my dressing room. “Everything cool?”

  “Yeah. I just got chastised. I haven’t been a very good hooker, apparently.”

  “Sky, you need to get out of this.”

  “You know that’s not gonna happen.”

  “She needs to get help, just like Cara said.”

  “Did Cara tell you?”

  Jimmy’s face turns bright red. So bright that I can even see it in the dim lighting of the hall.

  “Damn it. Are you guys talking about me behind my back?”

  “Only because we love you and are worried about you.”

  “Listen to me Jimmy Ratcliff, I’ve been taking care of myself since I was eight years old. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Got that?”