by K. S. Adkins
Taking his hand I rub circles over the palm. He’s my best friend, my partner, and my hero. I’m trained to be hard, grew up hard, but I still want to cry. I’m still a woman, dammit.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper to him “Those bullets were meant for me. You can rest now, soldier; I’ll take it from here. They’ll pay, Bishop; I vow it. They’ll all pay.”
Hours pass and he still doesn’t wake up, nor do I let go of his hand. At some point I must have dozed. When I do wake up it’s to Max staring at me from across the room. Having no idea when he got there, I rub both eyes with one hand and focus back on Bishop. He’s the one who needs me, not my husband. Clearly he doesn’t need anybody.
“We need to talk.”
“Later.”
“Later is now,” he says, walking over. “Those bullets were meant for you, weren’t they?”
“Probably.”
“When he can travel,” he says with zero emotion, looking away from me, “you need to go, and stay gone this time.”
Closing my eyes I let the words and the pain wash through me. I always knew one day he’d say them, but I had hoped it wouldn’t be when I was at my weakest. Hasn’t he said enough? What else could he possibly have to say to hurt me? Grabbing Bishop’s hand tighter I fight the need to cry. I will not fucking cry in front of him, ever.
“Did you hear me?” he orders. “I said I want you gone.”
I try to pretend he isn’t in the room. I try to pretend that even I’m not in the room. What’s left of my heart in that moment broke, shattered, and shriveled up. I’m officially ice cold.
“I’ll email you my attorney’s information,” he says, driving the knife deeper. “I want this over as quickly as possible. You’ll have it by the weekend.”
Without another word he turns and walks away. Taking my heart, my soul, and all the kindness I had left in me with him. Just when I thought he couldn’t destroy me anymore, he does. Whoever says Maxwell Allen isn’t fit for combat surely has never heard him speak.
When I look back up at Bishop and see he’s still no closer to waking, I let his hand go and run as far and as fast as my feet can take me. I need air, I need sky, I need to rage, then I need… to let him go.
I booked my flight without telling her. When Gallo informed me of when her unit was expected home from training, I wasted no time getting my ticket. Her tiny apartment had horrible locks on it, so getting in wasn’t difficult. When the lock turned and she walked in looking exhausted I stayed in the kitchen waiting for her to notice me. She walks over the table by the door, sets her keys down, and picks up the picture I sent her months ago when I needed her to know how much I loved her.
“I miss you Max,” she whispers, wiping her eyes.
“Not as much as I missed you, Blue.”
Whipping around she drops the picture and runs to the safety of my arms.
“You’re here,” she cries into my neck.
“I’m here,” I tell her, trying to soothe her.
“I haven’t been a good husband, Blue. I’m sorry.”
“You came for me,” she cries. “You’re the best husband ever.”
Jules never needed much. As long as I came for her, she was happy.
She didn’t stop me.
Not that I expected her to after the way I treated her, but part of me thought she’d push back or tell me I’m wrong. After sitting there for hours watching her sleep while she held his hand, my heart couldn’t take it anymore. When I heard her telling him that she would kill people on his behalf I knew, I fucking knew keeping her here was a mistake. This isn’t just a job for her, it’s a personal vendetta, and the Jules I knew wouldn’t just kill people. Except I don’t know her anymore, and this Jules does in fact kill people, got paid to do it too.
I couldn’t have that on my conscience. She’s here because of my club, the shit I can’t get a handle on there. Her being here tipped someone off, and those shots fired were meant for her head. The guy laying there heavily sedated protected her life with his. I never stood a fucking chance, and I was fooling myself to think I did.
I wanted my wife. I wanted a shot at a life with her. But her reality and mine are too different. So when she woke up, all thoughts of finding a way to keep her here vanished. The best thing, the safest thing for her would be to let her go. For once I had to do something for her.
After saying the words I didn’t mean, I saw it. When her heart broke, I fucking felt it. So I left before I broke down. I didn’t get far, just a few floors down, and I just couldn’t be that guy. I couldn’t lose her again, not like this. I told her I would fight and god dammit, I’m going to fight. Running up the stairs two at a time I fly back into his room, only she’s gone.
Not again.
Falling into the nearest chair I debate putting my head through the wall. How many times was I going to be responsible for breaking her? No more I decide. I can’t be a coward anymore, but, again I’m too late.
“She ain’t comin’ back,” says Bishop with his eyes closed in pain.
“I know.”
“You fucked up,” he says. “I heard you break her again. If I wasn’t in this bed, you would be, just so you know. I owe you some pain.”
“Then I’m sure this makes you happy.”
“You don’t know what makes me happy,” he says. “Never seen her happy. Always wanted to, though.”
“You got what you wanted, then,” I whisper, standing up. “Thanks for saving her.” When I try to leave he stops me.
“Sit down,” he orders me. “Some shit you need to know.”
So I sit. How can sitting here be worse than knowing she’s gone?
“Love that woman,” he says. “Love her with everything I got. But I ain’t in love with her. She sure as hell ain’t in love with me, neither. She only loves one man, and I ain’t him.”
When I look up, he smiles “I see I got your attention now,” he says. “She’s all I got, all I need. I always knew her heart beat for someone else, but I gotta tell you, if I had to pick someone for her, it wouldn’t be you. Thing is, all that shit you harp on her about? It’s who she is, man. When you ain’t got shit you hold onto it. You kill for it. She’d do that for you, will do that for you.”
“I know.”
“You think you know,” he corrects me. “There’s a lot about her you don’t know, but in her core she’s a fighter. You think she wants to coddle you and shit, you think because you ain’t street that she thinks you’re a pussy. You’d be wrong. Ever think she loves you because you ain’t any of those things? Maybe cause you ain’t like us? She loves you because you ain’t got none of that shit in your blood. You’re pure, Max. She loves you because of it, she thinks you’re the baddest motherfucker she’s ever met because you could fuck shit up, but you choose not to.”
“She told you this?”
“I got eyes, man,” he says. “She’s never looked at anyone how she looks at you. Her whole world was you.”
“You want her,” I tell him. “You said as much, threatened it. Is this a game with you? Get her to shoot me down and then run in to rescue her?”
“Fuck, but you’re a stubborn asshole, huh? I just told you, I love her. I also told you I ain’t in love with her. I’m all stoned and shit, and even I know I’m makin’ sense.”
“How can you not be in love with her?”
“Because I like cock.”
Blinking. I just sat there blinking. No, I’m pretty sure he just said cock.
“Where is she?”
“MGM, room 401.”
“You saved her life.”
“That’s the shit you do when you love someone.”
“I owe you an apology.”
“You owe her the apology, and the truth. I don’t need shit from you other than makin’ her happy. If you don’t, though, pretty sure it goes without saying what we’ll do to you. See, this is funny for me, cuz you ain’t met Jumbo. It’s playing out like a movie in my head right now and you’re bleedin
g.”
Nodding, I get up to leave so I can fly over to the MGM when he gives me parting advice. “Yo Max,” he says, and I turn to face him. “She’s gonna need a partner. I’m thinkin’ you should apply for the position if you think you can handle it.”
Smiling for the first time in days—fuck, in years—I head out on a mission. Begging my wife to give me another chance. Is this what she feels when she heads into battle? If it’s even a little bit like this, I fucking get it.
“Mom? Are you here?”
I can hear her moving around and speaking to someone, and clearly she didn’t expect me home. Rushing out of her room, her robe is falling off her skinny shoulders and she’s wiping her nose.
“Why are you even here?” she snarls at me while scratching her arms.
“It’s freezing out,” I tell her. “The front door was wide open. I came home to see if you wanted something to eat.”
“Go¸” she yells at me. “I got company.”
“Mom,” I start. “It’s fucking frigid outside.”
A man enters the living room wearing designer clothes. Head to toe money. Grabbing her ass, he smiles at me “Let her stay,” he says. “It is quite cold out there.”
“You want her over me, is that it?” she screams, pushing him away.
“Don’t be silly, you can stay,” he says smoothly. “We’ll keep it down, or at least try to.”
“Gross,” I mumble, showing myself out. Two hours later I swear I have frostbite, but being out here is better than being in there any day. When the pervert left he throws a fifty-dollar bill in my lap on his way out.
“She was only worth half that,” he says, wiping his hands on his fancy pants “The rest is yours.”
I took a cab to Campus Martius. Sitting there alone, I took in my city. The city I love and loathe with everything in me. The city most gave up on, the city that I once called home. To say I haven’t missed this would be a lie. These streets are who I am. No amount of running will ever cure me of it, and if it’s a sickness, then I’ll stay sick. I grew up fighting my way through everything; I still fight, only now it’s from a different city, and the government pays me for it.
I met my friends here, I met him here. Looking around at the people doing their day to day I just miss it. I miss the chaos of it, the fundamentals of it and the community of it. My life—however unfortunate—started here, and dammit, I wasn’t ready to leave. Bottom line, the city is me. I left once because I wasn’t wanted; now I’m leaving again under the same conditions. Being unwanted hurts, and I’m tired of it.
When my personal phone rings, I hesitate to answer when I see it’s Macy. I can’t talk to her right now, so I let it go to voicemail. Tucking it away it rings again; this time it’s Rafe. Shit.
“Yeah.”
“It’s later,” he says, reminding me of my own words, and words I just heard a couple of hours ago.
Taking a deep breath, I let him have it, because yeah since I’m out he’s going to need to know. “It was a uniform.”
“Fuck.”
“Our man was a lefty. Five-foot-ten, 210, tattoo of a blade on his neck, right side. Brown hair, brown eyes, built like a fucking tank.”
“I’m on it,” he says, and when I stay quiet he continues. “You ain’t leaving yet; gonna need you.”
“I know I said I’d stay,” I tell him. “But I’m not needed here anymore, Rafe. I’ve overstayed my welcome. I’ll do what I can, but I’m not making any promises anymore.”
“Front doors open,” he says. “Don’t you fucking leave us.”
Disconnecting, I slide my phone back in, stand up, and hail a cab back to the MGM. When I get there my plan is to pack up, pay up, visit Bishop, and get out.
Watching the city pass me by, I commit it to memory, knowing this time when I leave there is no coming back. I’m not made of steel, and you can only knock me down so many times before I call it quits. Paying the driver I grab my bag, hit the elevator, then walk the long hallway back to my room.
Just before inserting the key I press my forehead against the door. Taking a deep breath, I allow myself a few seconds of pity. Life isn’t always fair, love usually hurts, and you learn those lessons, then you move on. Giving myself a mental high five I suck it up, insert the key, and decide that from here on out, that as long as I love me everyone else can fuck right off.
Closing the door behind me, I drop my bag on the floor by the door when I’m suddenly slammed into the wall, arms pinned above my head, legs kicked apart, and I’m chin to chest with Max. When I look up and before I can protest his tongue is inside my mouth, his hands are gripping my hair, and my legs have found their way around his waist.
I tell myself to break away. I tell myself to separate. I beg myself to be strong enough to put an end to this. I can’t be just a fuck. A body to be used and discarded, I’m not built for it. He doesn’t love me, I remind myself. I’m trash, the streets are who I am, and it’s not what he wants. It takes everything that I’ve got, but I do it. I untangle my legs, drop my hands, and stop kissing him back.
“Do you ever miss home?”
“I miss you,” she says, snuggling next to me. “I miss them.”
“Do you miss anything else?”
“The traffic, the music, the riverfront,” she says. “The food, the atmosphere, the grit, too. Yeah, I guess I miss it a bit.”
“What can I do to get you to stay for good?”
“Let me graduate,” she says, yawning. “Hopefully I’ll have more say about my home base then.”
“What about a family?” I ask her. “I’d like to have a family soon, Blue.”
“I graduate in three months,” she says sitting up. “Do you have three more months in you?”
“Yeah,” I whisper in her ear. “I’ve got three more months.”
When the door clicks I give her no time to turn lights on or get her bearings, or for my own sake, her gun. Throwing her up against the wall a lot harder than I intended, I secure her arms, spread her legs, and take her mouth. She crawls up my body to wrap her little legs around me. Holding her up by her ass, I dominate her in every way that I can.
I’m dry humping her against a fucking hotel wall and I don’t even care, I just have to have her, be near her and touch her. One second she was on board, and then she just stopped. Not having it, I whip her around and walk her backwards to the bed, throw her on it, and wait to see if she comes up swinging. Only she doesn’t.
The room is fairly dark so I can’t see her expression, but given that she’s not fighting me it didn’t take much to realize she’s given up. When it hits me that I need to see her aggressive side, the side of her that normally makes me feel uncomfortable and inferior now is making me feel like a dick for being the reason she’s got no fight. My wife is a fighter, not this.
Crawling up and over her I push her shoulders back the straddle her with my body covering hers. Running my fingers over her perfect round face, I consider begging, but somehow I don’t think that will score me any points. I fucked up, and I’m ready to face the consequences. Turning her face away I bring it back, she will look at me. Only me.
“Blue,” I say with authority, “I’ll make you a deal.” When she says nothing, just stares past me, I try again. “You’re going to listen to me, or I’ll cuff you again.” When her eyes flash I see I’m either moving in the right direction or planning my own funeral. “Those bullets were meant for you, and we both know it. Bishop is lying in recovery while you’re supposed to be in the ground. You may not believe this, but I have a real serious problem with that.” Still nothing, but that’s okay, because she’s boring holes into me, so it’s progress. She’s paying attention. “My club is key, you said it yourself, so here’s the deal,”
Still nothing. Shit, well time to let it rip.
“I’m officially your new partner.”
When she just blinks I start to get nervous. Logically, I know I can’t make myself be her partner, but I want her to want me to b
e her partner. Whatever she wants to teach me I’ll learn, whatever she wants me to do I’ll do it. We’re a match at everything else, why not this?
“Speechless? That’s okay; here’s how it’s going to be. You’ll train me. Weapons, fighting, you name it. You’re the boss, you need to access to the club? Done. It’ll save you from sneaking in like you’ve been doing anyway. You have questions? I have answers. Partners, you and me. Question is, when do we start?”
“My partner is in the hospital because of me.”
“No,” I correct her, “he’s in the hospital because of me.”
“No, Max.”
“I wasn’t asking, Blue.”
“Stop calling me that!” she growls at me, and hot damn there’s that fire.
“Fine, wife,” I say. “I fucked up, I didn’t mean any of what I said.”
“Bullshit.”
“Look at me,” I order. “I won’t lie to you and tell you that you don’t have the ability to make me feel like less than a man sometimes, but dammit, that’s on me not you. I was angry, I was embarrassed, I was fucking jealous. You leave, I follow; you stay, I fight by your side. I took those vows, too, Blue. You don’t have to say you love me back, fuck, you don’t have to say anything. You’re here, you came back, and I know you love me. In here,” I say grabbing her hands and placing them on my chest. “In here I fucking feel it, and I was a stupid bastard for not seeing it sooner. I’m sorry.”
Leaning down to kiss her I put my lips against hers once, twice, a third time, then I pull back. “No one has been inside you except me; that right there tells me you love me, Blue, and I fucking love you, too. There was no other woman, ever. Never will be either, I promise you that. Be my partner, be my fucking wife again, please.”
“Max, I can’t do this with you.”
“You can you’re just afraid,” I say. “That’s my fault. You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I wasn’t there when you needed me. That’s on my conscience, but I’m here now, and if you leave I’m coming. So what’s it going to be?”
