by K. S. Adkins
Laughing, Macy says, “It’s not the universe, it’s karma. You put good things out there, and you get good in return. I used to think the Kharma thing was cliché, but I totally get it now. You deserve happiness more than anyone I know. In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never once taken anything for yourself. If he gets hired, give it a chance to see where it goes.”
“What if he doesn’t want me with all of my issues?” I ask, fearful. I’ve never felt like this before. I don’t think I could handle it if he thought of me as a means to an end, maybe a promotion and not as a woman.
“But what if he does?” she asks. Ever the risk taker, this one. “Venessa, have you looked in the mirror lately? You are a beautiful woman. He’d have to be full on mental not to notice. Everyone else does, which brings us back full circle. Tony. What the fuck happened there?”
“God, I don’t even want to talk about Tony. As to what happened? No clue! He just said it was time, and when I said no he said he looks forward to changing my mind. I finally notice a guy, and now I’ve got Tony bringing the full court press. All I heard was 'you’re mine', then I freaked when he asked to kiss me. The man is lucky I didn’t stab him. When he asked to kiss me, I thought of the Detective, but when I look at Tony I bolted. This is why I don’t date!”
“Yeah, sounds awful. The last guy I dated liked to use me as a punching bag, and I had to have my best friend kick his ass and have him arrested for me. Forgive me for this, but it could be worse,” she says, and I feel instant guilt.
“Yeah? How so?”
“You could have vaginosis,” she says deadpan.
“Is that your way of telling me you do?”
“Relax. It’s a joke, not a dick, don’t take it so hard.”
She disconnects while laughing her crazy ass off, and for the first time in a long time, I fall to sleep with a smile on my face while making a mental note to look up vaginosis.
I’m still riding high from last night’s conversation. One minute I’m staring at my ear piece, and then I get the signal that she’s making a call, so I listen in. I felt no guilt for it. I could have listened to the recording later, but I couldn’t wait. Her voice had the hair on my body tingling. Hearing her talk about me has me sitting there with my jaw hanging open.
So she felt it, too. She also feels there’s a good chance I wouldn’t want her. Not fucking likely. She thinks I’m attractive? I’ll admit that confession has me scratching my bald head. Maybe she has poor eyesight. She also confirmed she doesn’t date, and she doesn’t want that Gallo fuck; both points in my favor. She liked touching me, which from the sounds of it is a big fucking deal, and another point in my favor. All activity from her phone is recorded, so I listened to her over and over until I finally passed out with my phone in hand.
Waking up, I’m pissed I won’t see her in person today. I don’t think about how I ended up here often. I just always knew here was where I needed to be. If last night was any indication, she’s the reason I’m still here. I was waiting for her. She’s why I stayed, I just never knew it. Living here is all I’ve known. It’s not that I haven’t traveled some but no matter where I’m at, Detroit is home. It’s not perfect, but I’m not the only one trying to fix what’s broken here. We’ll restore this city to greatness one day at a time. Detroit gets a lot of bad press. Some true, some bullshit. Our city council? Yeah, that shit’s true. But we also have some fucking amazing people making a difference here, so my getting this gig as her ‘protection’ is step one. None of us are joking when we say something big is headed this way, and none of it good. Problem is, we don’t know exactly what it is, but that club is the key to finding out and so is she.
You have ‘Detroiters’ and then you have the people that come here for a ball game or some Disney on Ice bullshit and think they’re from Detroit. True Detroiters never leave. They stay and fight. Cops can’t be everywhere. Shit, they’re afraid to. The city lives by its own code. Citizens have no choice but to protect themselves, and that pisses me off. I’m supposed to protect them. But if I can stop this infiltration, I can prevent a huge turf war and keep Venessa safe, too. The criminals here aren’t going to sit back and welcome their enemies. It will be a blood bath, so this meeting is important. Visiting here and living here are two very different things. For me, I can’t imagine living anywhere else, especially knowing that I had something waiting for me.
One thing I noticed is she’s an early riser. I fell asleep about four am, here it is ten am and the tracker activated, which tells me she’s on the move. Dressing in a hurry, I jump in my truck to follow; assuming she was grabbing a cup was a mistake. What she is grabbing right now is Darnell White, by the back of the neck. By itself, this is shocking, considering Darnell White is six two, and two hundred thirty pounds of pimp. Hanging back, I put my Bluetooth in to listen with my Glock in my lap.
She’s worried about two of his girls; warns him that if he doesn’t protect them better, she’s going to remove the girls from his care, then remove his front teeth. Even more amazing is that he agrees, pretty much doing whatever he can to please her and keep his girls safe. As she turns to leave, he even fucking thanks her for coming out to talk to him in person. Accepting his thanks, she walks away, turns the corner, and I lose her.
Am I losing my mind, or did a pimp, a big player in the game, just thank a woman for slamming him against a wall and threatening him? I’ve dealt with Darnell; you do not put your hands on him, ever. He has women covering every corner in the city, so he is not small time. He also has one goon for every five women working his streets, so what does Venessa know that he doesn’t?
My interview is at noon, and since Venessa went back home, I head over without worrying about following her anywhere else for an hour or so. Based on last night, she’s having lunch with Max so he’ll likely pick her up. After this interview, though? I’ll be right back at it.
Walking into the club, I was expecting a total shit box, but it has the basics as far as clubs go, I guess. The Captain and Rafe gave me one helluva convincing background. Military, PI work, and even guarding local celebrities. I’ve had run ins with the law, and have the habit of taking things too far. My file also says I’m canned a lot, due to my anger issues. They made me sound like an unstable asshole. So, yeah, they did good.
I figured Gallo would be here to grill me, but was surprised to see I’d be meeting with Max alone. He better not be with Venessa. I hadn’t planned on that. Last I knew, she was having lunch with Max, but Max is here. Fuck.
“Mr. Black, I’m Max Allen. Glad you could make it on such short notice. You understand what we need you for?” he asks, straight to the point.
“Personal protection for your female DJ,” I answer straight.
“Yeah well, it’s not just when she’s here. I trust you’re aware of whom we’re speaking?” he asks.
“Kharma, yeah, I’ve heard of her. I don’t do the club scene, but word gets around. She having problems?” I ask.
“She draws a big crowd. Thing is, some think they have rights to get close to her. Touch her, that kind of thing. But the thing is, she doesn’t like to be touched without permission. So we don’t want this getting out of hand. When we get full, security can’t be where I need ‘em, and that’s where you come in,” he says.
“There’s more here. What is it? Is the situation escalating?” I ask already knowing the answer
“Fuck yeah, it’s escalating. I got the DPD busting in here, putting their hands on her. I got motherfuckers following her home. We want to know she’s safe 24/7, and by any means necessary. Based on what I read, that shouldn’t be a problem for you. Is it?”
“Who’s we?”
“A partner of mine cares deeply for Ms. Cross, and her personal safety. He recommended you. If she’s safe and happy, then we got no problems,” he answers.
“No. It’s not a problem for me, as long as you let me handle her my way,” I say.
“By handle her, I hope you mean protecting her
, because she ain’t no helpless female. You try handling her, and we’re gonna have us some problems. You handle her safety, and let us worry about the rest.”
“What does she think of all this?”
“She thinks it’s unnecessary,” a voice answers, and it’s the one I fell asleep to last night. I pray to Glock I’m able to play it cool and actually speak to her. Otherwise…
“You’re early, sweetheart.” He smiles.
“Actually, you’re late. When you didn’t text back, I figured you’d be here. So who’s this?”
I have to admit that the female has style. She’s also sneaky; I hadn’t realized she'd left.
“This sweetheart, is Rogan Black. Your new shadow,” he says with authority.
“I see. Mr. Black, yeah? What exactly is your job?” she asks, baiting me. It’s like a cheesy version of good cop worse cop. She’s a fucking pro.
I clear my, throat hoping to make a good impression. “My job is to keep you safe, nothing more nothing less, by any means necessary. That clear enough for you?” I say and I worry when she glares at me. Shit. Did I read that wrong?
“Max, may I have a word with you, please?” she asks, and I know I fucked up. I should have stayed silent.
“Ma’am, let me try this again. My job is to keep you safe. Not get in your way. If you’re open to it, we can make it work to where you won’t even know I’m there…much,” I say, hoping this works.
“Fine,” she says, mulling it over. “If Max thinks it’s a good idea, then it’s a good idea. But I want to go on record and say that I don’t like it. You hired a guy to watch me who doesn’t go to clubs?” she says, looking at Max. “This ought to be fun. And don’t ma’am me, ever. Gross.” And with that, she walks off.
“What about lunch?” asks Max, laughing.
“Not hungry,” she says and sashays away. No, really, she fucking sashayed. Staring at her ass I have to wonder if she walks like that all the time or only when she’s pissed.
“She really is a sweetheart. She just doesn’t like to feel like her freedom is being taken away. Be patient with her,” he says, and I realize that he really does care for her. I don’t fucking like it, but it's reality.
“I can be patient. As long as she listens,” I say, which is total bullshit
“No time like the present. You better catch her before she leaves, or you’ll never find her.” He laughs and walks away. I’ll give my girl a head start, let her think she’s won the first round. Finding her wasn’t going to be a problem anyway.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
Of course, his voice is deep and rough. Deep and rough? Really, Venessa? Ugh. Snap out of it, whore. God, this may not have been such a great idea. I can’t think straight around that large man. That voice…fuck me, but that voice is unreal. Like it’s hardly used. I’m pretty sure, as much as I miss my family, I’m not getting a one way to paradise, so do I give in to the ultimate temptation? Can I survive that kind of sin? Shit. Would I even want to? Would anybody?
I find a bench and sit down in an effort to mellow out. Macy is a great listener, the best even, but I feel horrible calling her all the time. She’s busy, has her own stuff to deal with, but she’s a people person. Macy knows how to work a dress and heels, go out to events, and work a crowd. Macy Kowalski is pure class, always has been. Which is a miracle, given her upbringing. Macy was born to make a difference; she’s also the only person that gets me.
“Two calls in less than 12 hours. Are you dead or dying?”
“Define dying. Can you die from sexual frustration?” I mean, it’s a legitimate concern.
“God, I hope not. What a way to go.” She sighs. “But this isn’t about me. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I just…I hoped I’d see him again, then I did just now, and my body goes haywire and my mind blanks. I don’t like this, Macy. Max hired him, I knew he would, but I don’t think I can do this.”
“You’re nervous. I’d worry if you weren’t, but hey, you will never do anything you don’t want to do again. Say it,” she commands me.
“I’ll never do anything I don’t want to do,” I say. “Macy, I’m scared.”
“Good. Being scared means you’re paying attention. A man worth having won’t scare you. He’ll protect you in every way. In return, you’ll protect him. That’s how it should be,” she decrees.
“Listen to me. I already sound like a sure thing. How many twenty-seven-year-olds do you know that are afraid of sex?”
“Just one, but she’s a god damn warrior who’s been to hell and back. I’d love for you to meet her, yeah? She’s this kick ass hero, who saves her best friend and beats up bad guys in her spare time. She’s also the most loyal person I know. I really think you’d love her,” she says quietly, and I want to cry. But I remember that I don’t cry. Not anymore.
“Macy?” I whisper.
“Yeah, I know, Venessa. I know,” she answers, then she disconnects because, yeah… she does know.
I sit there a few more minutes, wondering where to go next. I bailed on Max, so he can assume I’m pissed about the shadow thing. I mean I am pissed, but not at Max. At myself. I heard Max say it’s a 24/7 gig. My breath starts quickening just thinking about that. I don’t do well with company for long periods of time. Macy is the only one who gets that. Why can’t everyone else? The club, I can handle, but the rest? Shit… I can’t focus on this right now.
Finding Darnell this morning was pure luck. Trying to talk to that guy is work, meaning he doesn’t say shit unless you threaten him. It’s weird, but it works, we get on fine, we respect each other’s' boundaries. His girls are getting roughed up; I should know seeing as I’ve stepped in more than I’d like to. He needed to know, I told him, so we’re square. Now, I need to lean on this dealer Miguel, aka Big Dom (he’s a puny little guy), who’s selling to kids. He’s next on my list, I want to wrap him up before work tonight, but I can’t focus with the thoughts bouncing around in my head. I put in my Skulls, listen to tonight’s set, trying lose myself to the music and the craziness that is my life. But no matter what I do, my thoughts bring me back to the Detective.
As soon as I feel the air change, I prepare myself for company. Then, someone grips my arm causing my instincts take over. I hit the ground, taking the fucker with me. He tries to hold my arms to my sides, but that just sets me off. I will not be held down ever again. So I roll on top of the guy, secure his arms with my legs on the ditch of his elbows, ensuring that I’m free to choke the fuck out of him before I shoot his ass.
Red fills my vision; I won’t be satisfied until he stops breathing. Past experience tells me that oxygen deprivation takes approximately 30-45 seconds. I hear my name, I think? But I can’t see his face. This happens when I’m in a snit. I want to stop, but I can’t. I’m missing something important here, but what? I hear my name again. I focus real hard, and then just like that, I’m fighting the urge to hurt. Whoever it is, isn’t fighting back. Why wouldn’t they fight back?
“Come back to me, Venessa.” The voice is soothing, and when it registers, I’m immediately ashamed.
I don’t want him to see me like this. I loosen my grip, all the fight leaving me instantly. Get up, Venessa. Walk away, now. Better yet, run as fast as your fucked up legs can carry you. You aren’t fit to be in public.
“Venessa, enough. Look at me,” he demands, and I have no choice but to comply. When I do look at him, I am so embarrassed. I can see my hand prints around his big beautiful throat. “Keep looking at me. I’m going to let go now, I see you want to run, but don’t. Stay with me” he says, I want to tell him to fuck off.
No one tells me what to do; no one gets close to me. But I can’t. The truth is, I don’t want to leave. I’ll stay here forever, if he just keeps talking to me.
“I shouldn’t have snuck up on you and I deserved what I got. Won’t happen again. We’re cool,” he says, and the most ridiculous thing happens.
I start
laughing. I’m laughing so hard, that the more I try to stop, the harder I laugh. I may have even snorted, for Christ sakes. I just choked out my shadow/partner, who I’m still straddling, and I can’t stop laughing. Where’s my gun? When you find it, shoot me with it, kay?
“I need you to say something Venessa,” he says, and I can’t formulate a thought. My current state of affairs is awkward to say the least. Should I get off of him?
“I had my Skulls in, so I didn’t hear you. I also don’t like to be surprised up on, or touched,” I blurt out. Whoa. Where the hell did that come from?
“I know. Max told me. This, right here, is my fault,” he says, and just like that, it’s not as weird anymore.
“Um, sorry, let me get off of you,” I say, mortified, and also mourning the loss of his lap. I turn to stand, offering a hand to help him up, but he surprises me instead.
“I was wrong,” he says.
“About what, exactly?”
“You,” he says simply.
“Care to explain?”
“You can take care of yourself, but you shouldn’t have to. Actually, now you don’t have to, but yeah, you’re ah, impressive,” he stutters. I swear he’s blushing, but that’s probably just the blood coming back to his head.
“Thanks, but now that we’re in this together we have each other’s backs, yeah? Isn’t that how this partner thing works?”
“We’ll talk about that later, but you have me now. I’ll have your back”
“And I’ll have yours. Isn’t that what I just said?”
“No. Your job is to keep doing what you’re doing, and to share information. My job is to protect you, and use that information to my advantage,” he states, and I kind of want to choke him again.
“Um, no. We’re partners.” I air quote it for effect
