Outside The Ropes
Page 7
I cocked my head, considering him. “I think I should be offended. You’re saying I should call you when I want to fuck.” I went for shock value to see if he could handle it.
He didn't flinch, but watched me intently with his brown eyes. “You should be, but you’re not. That’s why I’m here. Don’t worry; I won’t ask questions, I won’t make demands. I just want you to keep me wild, and I'll keep you safe.”
I was about to take the phone until that last line. “So you have a prince charming complex? I don’t need anyone to keep me safe; I can do that on my own.”
He rubbed the back of his neck again “Alright, I know. However you want it. I just meant, take the phone, and call me when you want to.”
“How old are you?”
He dropped his eyes. “26.” He hesitated to look back up at me. “But I know you’re 19, so it’s all good.”
I took the phone from his hand, holding it between two fingers. “Why is this so important to you?”
He shrugged. “I had to do something. I can’t stop thinking about you. So you’ll call?”
I slid the charger off and slipped it into my apron pocket. Turning the phone on, the screen lit up. It was a generic smart phone, but still nice.
“No questions?” I wanted to be clear on the rules.
He smiled and shook his head. “And no demands. Not from me anyways.”
“Uh,” I paused, considering everything. For some stupid reason, I couldn’t resist. He was offering a no strings relationship, and I think I could handle that. I knew I could handle him. “Okay, Officer Fields. Maybe I’ll call you later.” I slid the phone into my pocket and turned to go.
“My only demand.”
I froze, back still to him, reaching for the phone to return it.
“Call me Anthony.”
I smiled, sliding the phone back into my pocket. “Okay, Anthony.”
***
“You’re early. I never expect you here at the start of the night.” James stood back, letting me pass into the apartment.
He kicked the bottom of the door closed and grabbed the Styrofoam container of wings from me. “And you come bearing gifts?” He opened the lid and his smile grew. “Old Bay wings.”
I walked into the living room and hesitated as I spotted Damien, a notorious drug dealer, on the couch with Ty.
“Regan, been a minute since I’ve seen you.” Damien’s eyes crawled over me.
I nodded and turned to go to Nan’s room to get away from him and whatever deal he had going on with James.
The doorknob to Nan’s room wouldn’t budge, and my heart squeezed. It was locked.
“Nan’s got company; can’t go in there yet.” James confirmed what I suspected.
My insides protested against sitting with them, but there seemed to be little choice. I took off my winter coat and chose the seat farthest from Damien.
“You just get off work?” Ty asked.
I looked down at my outfit—dark denim skinny jeans and a green T-shirt with Johnny’s written across it in bold print. “Yup.”
James set a stack of paper plates and the wings on the edge of the scratched coffee table. “She brought wings if you want some”
Damien shot a disgusted look. “Let’s fuckin deal with our business first. I don’t want that grease on my money or supply.”
James head bobbed on top of his long neck as he closed the lid to the wings.
Damien flicked his eyes from each of us in the room before resting on James. “We all good here?”
I tried to ignore them and watch the commercial for some floor cleaner on TV. I knew what he meant though; could they make the deal in front of me.
James continued to bob his head. “You know Regan, don’t you?”
He smirked. “Yeah, me and Regan got some history. But it’s just that. History. Wasn’t sure if she changed.”
I stiffened infinitesimally, still trying to play off interest in what was on TV. I knew him from around. He lived near my last foster parent, Ms. Mary, but I never really spent time with him. I went to school with his sister, but she hated me. He would occasionally talk to me, usually to hit on me like he did all females. He was one of those guys that thought he could, and should, have every girl.
Ty spoke up, “She’s good. So you think you can help us with what we talked about?”
James perked up and stilled his bouncing leg
Damien leaned forward on his knees. “That’s why I’m here. But I don’t give loans, not to start. You prove yourself and maybe in the future. But today, right now, you have to pay the full amount. Then whatever you make is profit. Charge whatever you want, hell if I care, but don’t use my name to anyone. And you don’t want to charge less than J.R., although it’s your ass if you do. Remember, my name doesn’t leave your mouth after this.”
James and Ty exchanged glances and nodded.
“Alright then, where’s the cash?”
I couldn’t fake it anymore; I got up to walk to the kitchen. I had already heard too much and didn’t want to be part of the rest.
“Regan? That goes for you, too. You’re not gonna talk about this, right?”
I looked at Damien, not hesitating with my answer, “No. I won’t talk.”
“Then where are you going?”
My heart was beating in my stomach. I should have stayed seated. “To get a drink. Anybody else want something?”
They shook their heads and I walked out of the room. I scanned the kitchen, not really needing or wanting anything, just trying to distract myself from what was going on in the living room. I wonder if Nan knew what her brother was getting into now. He was still on parole; this could send him back to prison.
“Regan?”
I closed the refrigerator and turned to face James.
He crossed his arms. “Let me get one twenty.”
My eyebrows flew up “What?”
“We’re one hundred and twenty short. Let me get it.”
I shook my head. I had the money, but not to give. I didn’t owe him anything.
Ty walked into the kitchen, looking eager. “Can she help?”
“No, I can’t!” I backed into the refrigerator as Damien walked in.
The space was small and crowded with the four of us standing.
“So no deal?” Damien looked between James and Ty.
“Can’t we work something out? Maybe we only get some now? Make it a smaller order?”
Damien shook his head and adjusted his ski cap low on his head. “Nah, it don’t work like that.” Then his eyes focused on me and he paused. “Although, we could work something out; another form of payment.” He licked his lips and cocked his head. “Regan, what do you say? Help your friends out?”
I shook my head and struggled to find my voice. “No, I can’t help.”
James looked between the two of us. “You mean something other than money?”
I glared at James. I wasn’t willing to give them money; I sure as hell wouldn’t sleep with someone to pay for their drugs.
“She wouldn’t do that. If you know Regan, you know that,” James said.
At least he hadn’t lost his mind.
Damien smirked, “Yeah I remember Regan. She was always one uppity bitch. Only giving time to those boys with money, never one of her own. I just thought those boys might have knocked her down a notch.”
I bit my cheek to keep quiet, but a fire started burning in my stomach.
Damien’s wicked smile spread as he chuckled. “I have seen you recently, on a video. But it cut off before they got to the good part. They had you on the ground, so don’t tell me none of those boys knew what to do with you. Did you--”
“Shut the fuck up.” I couldn’t stand to hear any more from his foul mouth. My emotions crashed violently inside me, looking for a way out.
James gave a nervous laugh, eyes bouncing between Damien and me. “Let’s go back to the living room. I’ll check with Nan. She’ll help.”
“Wait.” D
amien took a step towards me, filling all my senses. “I want to hear what happened. I could make you forget their touch, baby. And then we’d all be happy.”
He stepped closer, reaching for me, and I shoved him away, hard.
“Stupid Bitch,” he spoke low, his voice laced with hatred.
It was all the warning I needed. Just as he lunged at me, I punched him in the face and kneed him in the stomach. As he folded, I ran out of the kitchen.
James grabbed me by the shoulders and I turned on him, still swinging.
“Whoa,” he yelled, but anger transformed his face as my fist connected with his lip.
He pushed me back to the wall in the hallway, his hands wrapped around my neck, rage clear in his eyes.
I pushed at him and clawed at his hands. I was struggling to breathe. My vision wavered and darkened at the edges. James’ angry face blocked everything out.
Then he was gone, and I sucked in much needed air. I looked around wildly, still with my guard up.
James lay on the ground, and Nan stood to my side with a gun in hand. She moved it in a wide arc, keeping everyone back.
Damien’s cold voice broke the silence. “You better be willing to shoot. You've done lost your mind pulling a gun on me.”
She shook her head and lowered the glock, sliding it into the back of her pants. “I’m not going to shoot, but he was going to kill her. I had to do something.”
Dean put his arm around Nan, pulling her back as James stood up.
“So you’re gonna fuckin’ choose her over me. I’m your brother.”
She sighed, deflating. “No, but I had to stop you and you weren’t listening.” She turned towards me. “Regan, you need to go. Now.”
I nodded, still feeling the danger in the room. “Let me get my things.”
“Make it fuckin’ quick,” James ordered.
I grabbed my book bag, shoving in as much as I could make fit, in under a minute. Then I braced myself to return to the living room and grabbed my jacket. They were all still in the hall way and kitchen. James was apologizing to Damien, who laughed.
I avoided looking at them as I walked by, but Damien spoke before I closed the door.
“Stay safe, Regan.”
My heart crashed into my stomach.
8: Cat And Mouse
I MADE IT TO THE CURB BEFORE I stopped to put on my jacket. I was shaking and fumbled with the puffy coat and backpack in my arms. Tears burned, blurring my vision. I told myself the lie that it was just the cold.
I couldn’t peel my eyes from Nan’s apartment door and my damn jacket wasn’t going on. Frustrated, I threw my bag down and shook my jacket out, shoving each arm through. I picked the backpack up and began moving again. I needed to put distance between me and the people inside that apartment.
“Regan, wait,” Nan called.
I stopped walking only when I saw that she was alone, but I didn’t dare walk closer.
She jogged to where I stood. “In a couple of days, maybe you can come back.”
I shook my head, unable to find words equal to the fucked-up-ness of the situation.
She threw her hands up in frustration. “What happened in there?”
I kept looking to her door, anticipating when it would open next. I couldn’t stand here and have this conversation. Not now, maybe not ever.
Tension pulled at my muscles and my hands balled into fists just thinking about what went down.
“You saw what happened. Your brother and his friends...” I shook my head; I couldn’t come up with the rest. I couldn’t think through the panic in me. This place was dangerous, and not just for me. “Don’t go back in there, Nan. We can go somewhere else.”
She crossed her arms, “No. I have to go back in. My brother-“
“He’s bad news. Ever since he’s gotten out he’s caused trouble. You can’t keep living like this.”
She shook her head, strings of her hair blowing in her face. “It’s not just him. You don’t fucking think sometimes. What the hell were you doing in there? What did you say to them? Why? When you know he has a temper.” Her voice was turning shrill. “You get yourself in trouble all the time, even before James came home.”
I had no response; a small part of me saw a sliver of truth in it, but only a sliver. I knew tonight was not my fault. “Okay. Go back inside then. I’m leaving.”
“Wait.” She wiped the side of her face and nose with the sleeve of her sweater. The slick trail of tears shone on her cheek under the streetlight. “Where are you going to go?” Her voice was small and weak.
“Are you crying?” I was annoyed. “You kick me out, tell me it’s my fault, and now you’re crying? Stop.”
She stiffened. “I’m worried for you, just come by on Tuesday.”
The door to Nan’s apartment opened and my flight response went into overdrive. I took two steps back, about to run.
Dean stuck his head out and yelled, “Nan, everything good?”
She looked to me and back to Dean. “I’m coming in. One sec.”
“Be careful, okay. I mean it.” She gave me a sad smile.
“Yeah, you too,” I said, turning to leave.
Everything settled on me--the darkness, the cold, and Damien’s veiled threat. I quickened my pace; my only goal was to get out of the area, but then what?
I made it to the front of the apartment complex and saw a group of teens walking on the sidewalk along the main road. I crouched on the curb, hiding myself between two parked cars. The group was laughing and yelling as they walked by, but I couldn’t bring myself to stand.
I was stuck, struggling for air. I put my head between my knees and tried to think of something to do. Remembering my phone in my back pocket, I leaned forward to slide it out, saying a prayer as I pressed the on button. It lit up with a full charge still. It took several seconds for my numb and shaky fingers to navigate the screen, but I finally saw the number I was searching for and pressed dial.
“Regan?”
I nodded my head, tears prickling my eyes. “Yeah.”
“Do you- Can I come pick you up?”
Everything was tight; I could barely get the breath to reply. “Yeah.”
“Those apartments?”
The darkness was suffocating, but I forced enough air to whisper, “Yeah, come now.” And then I clicked off the phone.
I let it fall into my lap as I curled into myself, struggling between wanting to see my surroundings and wanting to squeeze my eyes shut. There wasn't enough air. I gulped lung-fulls of the frigid night, feeling the prickly burn in my lungs, but it wasn’t enough. I was choking.
Cradling my head in the crook of my arm, I kept one eye open to look for Anthony’s truck. Every car that drove by relit my panic and sent a new surge of toxic energy through my body. I couldn’t fight off the tears. My stomach flipped and I dry heaved, retching nothing but spit and bile onto the pavement.
Hearing the loud rumble of an engine, I raised my head, spotting Anthony’s truck pulling in. With relief, I jumped up and ran to it, climbing into the passenger seat. I pressed back into the fabric, eyes squeezed tight, trying to calm myself. My bones hurt as they shook, and it took all my effort not to throw up again.
Recalling a trick my therapist in foster care taught me, I counted to ten as I inhaled and ten as I exhaled, slowing my breath and calming one body part at a time. I started with my toes, flexed them, and then counted until I felt them come back under my control. Then I moved up, ankles, calves, knees. By time I reached my chest, I felt calmer and opened my eyes.
We hadn’t moved.
Anthony was twisted in his seat, watching me. When our eyes met, he nodded slightly and silently pulled away.
With my breathing under control, I realized that I was freezing. I put my hands against the vents and absorbed the heat into my fingers. I focused on the needle-like pain as they defrosted; it was a welcome distraction.
“It’s really cold out," I said lamely, knowing it wouldn’t explain the
way I'd acted, but hoped he would play along.
His jaw tightened, and he blew out a long breath. “They’re calling for snow later this week.”
I wiped the tears from my eyes, the last evidence of my panic.
“Where are we going?” We were taking an exit to the highway, out of the city.
“My house. I don’t live far.”
Alright. My strength was returning; I could handle this. Nothing had to change. Anthony and I had an arrangement and that’s what this was. If he were smart, he would keep to his end and not ask questions.
I blocked out the doubt that tried to force into my thoughts. I wasn’t using him; we were just in a mutually beneficial situation.
He took the next exit and as he made turns, I recognized where we were. I knew where the metro station was and studied the route he took to remember the way, just in case.
“This is it,” he said as we pulled up to a one story, brick home. It had a cute porch but no landscaping that I could see in the dark.
“Do you want something to drink or eat?” he asked as we walked into the living room, a small space with a mish mash of furniture.
“Yeah, please. Do you have anything warm, like coffee or tea or hot chocolate?”
He smiled with questions in his eyes. “I have coffee or hot chocolate.”
“I’ll take the hot chocolate, thanks.” I followed him into the kitchen, just off the living room.
The space was cozy, a dull yellow with dark wood cabinets. The counters were cluttered with bags of chips, mail, and half full liquor bottles.
He made our drinks, and I busied myself with looking around the kitchen and living room. He had a few pictures, him with his family most likely. I gathered he had a brother and sister, and his parents were all smiles and hugs in the pictures. Just like I thought, a nice family with nice kids that took vacations on cruises and ski resorts. There was one of him in his uniform, and his father next to him, both smiling at the camera.
“That’s the day I graduated from the police academy.” Anthony handed me my drink and sat on the couch, nodding for me to join him.