The man nodded once again. Nick sighed and rose to his feet, tray in hand.
“Finish your lunch. I’m getting ready to go. We will never talk about this again, but if I find out that you didn’t do what I said, Oliver, after I call in some favors and get you set up, there’s going to be some big fucking problems.” He paused, stared down at the man, watched him move nervously about in his seat.
“I will hunt you down and give that motherfucker your home address, social security number, and birth date, and drive him over there my damn self!”
Oliver looked up at him, his mouth dropped.
“I’m a cop, but I’m from the streets, Oliver. I don’t just help protect the people; I’m one of the people!”
The man looked away, the color draining from his face. He bit his lip, surely resisting getting smart, saying something witty and coy… for he was no dummy.
“Guys like you think you are better than everyone else. I could even see it in the shit you wrote in your journal… thinking so-called minorities are stupid. My half Puerto Rican ass has stood amongst motherfuckers like you and heard you sharing your racist jokes, thinking I was part of your tribe. I’m from Brownsville! Born and raised! The same streets you snubbed your nose at, and the boy you molested who you believed didn’t matter, that no one cared about him, that you could use him as some goddamn toy—that’s my world! His story is my story! I was that little boy! The one that so many believed wouldn’t amount to anything, the throw away kid!” He pointed to himself, pushing his finger into his chest. “He trusted you, his father trusted you, they all trusted you, and you abused their hope and faith in mankind!”
Oliver’s eyes glazed, but his expression stayed solemn.
“I’m going to do the right thing, Nick…”
“You fucking better! Drug addicts, prostitutes, thieves, alcoholics, all of us can love…all of us can love our children, even a hardcore gangster that is now stuck in rehab and instead of focusing on his treatment, all he can do is dream day and night about getting his hands on the man who stole his son’s innocence. He sent someone to swing on you, but that was just a warning to let you know he was coming! What? You thought a gangbanger’s child didn’t matter, Oliver? Fuck you, you hear?!” His body burned with rage as he looked down at the spoiled lunatic, his emotions dancing around like popcorn kernels in a heated bag. “You better be ready to put in the work, because if you don’t, I’ll do exactly what I promised. I’m never late for my appointments, Oliver, and you best believe, if you mess this up, I’ll be right on time. You can set your watch by it…”
Chapter Nineteen
“Today is bittersweet…” Nick began as he stood in the middle of the room, shrouded in sunlight, on the last day of a long, intense, crazy expedition, one he at times wasn’t sure he’d survive, especially when the love of his life came up missin’. Her healing had called her home, and he was left at the doorstep, alone. Yet, that was a temporary situation, so he kept on because he needed to be at his best for she could never settle for less.
“Tomorrow, I graduate from the Firststone program and start a new chapter in my life. I know that I have the tools to take with me to make it on my own. I can do this, and I will continue to work on me, to get the help I need because all of you have helped teach me how to love myself, value myself, and understand that I am worth it.” Applause broke out, making his ears slightly ring. Frieda’s smile proved the largest as she clasped her hands together and nodded in approval.
“You’ve earned it, Nick. You worked very hard to get where you’re at right now.”
He nodded. “Thank you.” Taking a big swallow, he continued to speak to his peers, his friends.
“I wish for all of you to be successful, too. More times than not, things get the most challenging once we move towards the final leg of the marathon. And then, after we cross the line, there is sweet relief. The thing is though, I’m not naive. I know that a whole lot of shit waits for me out there.” He pointed towards the door. “I know that the temptations are going to come, and they are going to come for me hard. I haven’t forgotten the things I’ve seen as a child, the pain I’ve suffered, or the hurt I’ve caused others. I can’t forget it, but what I can do is manage myself better, accept it for what it is, make amends, and try to be a better person, not rely on destructive vices to help ease my discomfort.
“I have to feel it, receive it when it comes, and move forward. I’ve read about that; I’ve become a bookworm while here. I was never much into that, but it’s important. I’ve learned a lot but some of the stuff I’ve learned can’t be placed in between pages. I’ve been given examples of how to do it. I was made to purge physically and emotionally right here in this place… the place I was afraid to come to, the place I saw holes in, and I focused on that instead of all the spots that were full of promise.” He cast Frieda an all-knowing look. “In speaking to my therapist several times a week, I gained new insight. Therapy is so important! And having these groups and activities was like an awakening. I’d been asleep, and though I knew it, I had no idea that it was more than a nap…I’d been in a damn coma.” He paused, reflected on his own words. His heart was heavy with a flood of painful truth, but he choked it back, stayed the course. “The thing is, I never knew exactly who I was until now. I only got glimpses, bits and pieces of who Nick was, but never saw the full picture. I’m putting myself back together now, and it seems it is becoming clearer as each day of sobriety passes.
“Thank you for giving me a window to climb in when I’d shut every door that was available to me beforehand. I set myself up to fail, but by some amazing grace, it didn’t happen. Thank you for allowing me to climb through that same window, and helping me out of it once I crossed the threshold because… the clock was ticking.” He lowered his head. “It was almost too late for me, and somehow, something,” he shrugged, “maybe it was God told me that if I didn’t get it together, I’d die… and that would’ve been a waste, because I have so much to live for.” He paused, dropped his head as another wave of emotions made him faint at heart. His legs shook and he wasn’t certain if he was getting lightheaded, or simply losing his mind for a spell.
“You did it,” Maurice, the former fireman, stood and outstretched his hand. Nick grabbed it; he grabbed it as tight as he could. The man pulled him quickly to him and gave him a big hug. “You made it man.” He patted his back, continuing to offer the comfort he so needed. “…You did it in the nick of time…”
She hung up the phone after the extensive talk, rubbed her jaw, and lay down on the bed. It had been a long night, during which she’d talked… and talked some more. Jen, her sponsor, was only a phone call away. Taryn had rubbed shoulders with her addiction one too many times, and barely escaped. The stress was mounting like papers atop one another, until the pile got far too heavy, and there was no way she could carry the load. She relayed the first time in question, explained it, tried to make sense of it while Jen held on, and listened to her every word…
“And then I left the house, and I went over to his place. I hadn’t seen Jake in so long, it almost felt surreal. I guess word spreads fast.” She clutched the phone a little tighter. “He knew I didn’t have much cash… He tried to strike a deal with me. Pussy for pills… I stood there looking at him, Jen, and I felt sick to my damn stomach. I turned to walk out of there, and he grabbed me, began to get violent. All I know is that I was kicking, punching and scratching until I was out of there, screaming and crying for my damn life… I just… can’t. It was so strange, Jen. Even as I was going over to his place, I’d already changed my mind.”
“Then why did you stay in the cab and continue?”
“…Because I try to finish what I start now.” She laughed woefully. “Shit, I don’t know. What I do know is that when he said that shit to me, tried to fuck me, all of this anger came out of me… all of this stuff that I tried to not think about while enjoying my new sobriety.” She rolled her eyes, and laughed mirthlessly this time. “Sometime
s, I don’t really know what I expected, you know? It’s like I bought into my own bullshit, convincing myself that everything would be perfect once I got out of treatment. Jen, this has been the worst stint ever. I don’t want to get high, I don’t! I just want to be taken seriously. I relied on Nick more than I realized. I know this now…”
“He would talk you down, and you trusted him.”
“Yeah… he would. We helped balance each other out. I miss him so damn bad, Jen… I know this isn’t about him though, it’s about me. I know this, but he gave me something I could build on. He was like… he was like a steady foundation. It wasn’t the sex, or the funny or nice things he’d say; it was his personality and the way he cared for me.”
“It’s okay to miss him, Taryn. It really is.”
“Yeah… I know. I just… I never felt like this before—needy. He understood me. I don’t feel understood anymore, that’s the problem. He cared what I thought and about my ideas. No one else does… I’m failing, Jen.” Her voice trembled. “And I can’t afford to fail!”
“Taryn, you’re not failing, far from it. You’ve had a close call since you’ve been out of treatment, and you won the battle. I wish you would have called me when it first happened, but we’re here now. Anyway, what you’re sharing with me is not inadequacy. You are learning as you go along. Why are you always so hard on yourself? There’s no such thing as Superwoman! That’s a myth! Don’t worry about who believes in you; you better start believing in yourself again. You had some letdowns, okay. Now what do you do?”
“…I dust myself off and try again.”
“That’s my girl…”
“It’s over,” Oliver stated as he dug into his slice of cake.
“No, it’s just begun,” Nick retorted as he continued to shake hands with various people walking past, offering their congratulations for completing treatment.
“Yeah, that’s true… Thank you for your help with my situation.”
“Mmm hmmm.” Nick glanced up at the clock. His heart was surely ticking much louder and faster within him than the time on the wall. He couldn’t wait to get out of there, to step on soil not surrounded by a fence, to walk into his townhouse and feel the welcoming, crisp sheets around his body. But, most importantly, to see and speak with his sweet Taryn. He missed the fuck out of her, and knowing she was waiting for him helped on days he felt emotionally spent.
“I know we won’t see each other after today, more than likely, Nick, but I had to tell you how much I appreciate what you did. I’ve already spoken to the director over at Saving Grace, and they confirmed they have a spot for me.”
“Yes, I know.” He cleared his throat as he kept his forced smile, pretending to not be anxious about bailing in the next few hours. “As you also know, I am enrolled in a special class here, so my graduation has been deferred for another two weeks.” The guy shrugged. “I thought it would be more important to finish it, then run off.”
“Well, you do what you feel is best regarding that; just make sure your transition is seamless. You can’t spend even one night out of treatment, not one. As soon as you leave from here, you have to be over at Saving Grace. You’re too much of a risk.” He glared at the man, letting it sink in again that he was the wrong one to try to mess over.
“I know, and I’ve planned it that way. I’m actually looking forward to going.”
Nick nodded, not really in the mood to continue the conversation. Oliver seemed to have some strange notion that the two were now friends, and nothing could be further from the truth. He’d seen the big picture, and though he despised the son of a bitch even more, he played the role so that he could obtain what was needed, to make things right.
“If you don’t mind, can I ask you what you said to Trey to make him leave me alone?” He took a sip of his beverage and looked him in the eye.
“Actually, I do mind, Oliver. I prefer to not get into the details. It was a private conversation but just know it’s handled.”
The man almost looked as if he wanted to object, then thought better of it and conceded. At that moment, Nick’s thoughts rolled back to the conversation he’d had with the man, one he wouldn’t soon forget…
Nick had approached Trey man to man…
Trey already knew a police officer was in the facility so introductions were quite unnecessary. He asked the guy to meet him in the library, back in the study area…the same room where he had broken down and spilled his damn guts to Taryn. After he closed the door behind them, they each took their respective seats. The guy was a stocky, brick wall built motherfucker. He donned a dark complexioned, bald head and flesh covered with heinous looking black tattoos all over his neck, arms, and one on the side of his face. By all appearances, Trey was the type of man one would flee from due to preconceived notions. Many would plan a fast excursion in the opposite direction, break free from the beast, and possibly faint if confronted by one such as he in a dark alley. But one thing was for certain; Nick understood the man’s pain. He’d seen it in too many eyes while he worked the streets. The whites of Trey’s eyes were the color of watered down blood and his pupils clung close and deep to forever-etched heartbreak. To society, the man was a walking malady, a menace, a degenerate, but at that moment in time, he was simply a father… a man that felt he’d let his son down, put him in harm’s way.
“Look.” Nick clasped his hands together just so. “You know why we’re here, so I won’t beat around the bush.”
The man sucked his teeth, nodded. His slightly slanted jet black eyes glistened with mischief as he cocked his head to the side and rested along a low sigh.
“Yeah, I know why we’re here, man.”
“Look, I need you to not go after Oliver, okay?”
“I don’t give a fuck what you need, Officer Vitale.” the man said in such a smooth unruffled tone, it seemed he had the shit pre-rehearsed.
“I expected that response, Trey. Look, here is the problem.” He sat back in his seat, intersected his ankles just so. It felt good to sit across from someone again, work his angles and his skills. He’d been away from work for so long, the rare opportunity provided an absolute relief. He relished the shit, had a knack for it. Some called it magic. Others called him a thief of reality, manipulating potential prey until he had them just where he wanted. He called it love.
“Look, you have a situation in which you are here by court mandate. You didn’t ask to come here; you were forced. That means they are watching you extra closely. The second issue is, your son is still alive, Trey. He has been harmed; we don’t know the long lasting ramifications, but the boy is physically healthy and he needs you now more than ever. You and his mother are all that he has. What’s he gonna do if his dad gets life in prison for killing the man that damaged him, huh? Do you think he’d prefer you kill the guy, or be in his life? Tell me… I’m listening.”
The man leaned back in his seat, mirroring Nick’s stance. He grinned ever so slightly as he tilted back in the chair, rocking, that ticking brain of his no doubt picking apart each word uttered. Trey was thirty years old. In his world, he was a rare find. Gangsters simply didn’t live that long, and if they did, it would be behind prison bars. He was either a lucky son of a bitch or a smart son of a gun to still be alive and doing the things he was involved in. It could have been a combination of both. Nick suspected the latter.
“Nick, you know how I roll, okay?” The big man paused, scratched the side of his nose, then continued. “I don’t know you for myself, but I found out what I needed to.” He eyed him up and down, studying him. “He fucked wit’ my seed. That’s my only child… My son looks up to me, expects me to protect him. Ain’t no honor in letting that faggot ass mothafucka get away with messing with my child. What?” He threw up his hands, a big crooked smile on his face. “This is what it is, man. It’s where I’m at. A little street justice… that black eye was to let every mothafucka in here know that he is a marked man. I’m gonna get him and when I do, he’ll regret the day he was bi
tch ass mother gave birth to him.”
Nick smiled in turn, rocked back in his seat, and cast a lazy glance towards the window before returning his full attention to the man. “I’m not a father. I can’t pretend to know what you’re feeling right now.”
“Right, so stay the fuck out of this.”
“I wish I could, Trey…boy, I really wish I could. You see…” He scratched the side of his head and leaned forward. “I’m not in here for Oliver—Don, I mean. I’m in here for you. I don’t give a shit about that man. He was disrespectful to me, and I don’t even like the son of a bitch. I have no consideration for him, and definitely no loyalty.”
“Maaaan,” he said, waving him off. “You can kill all of this bullshit comin’ out of your mouth. You have all the loyalty in the world towards that mothafucka ’cause first and foremost, you are trying to be a damn hero, stop some shit before it goes down…it will make you look good, probably help you out in the long run. I ain’t stupid, man. And secondly, his family probably paid you some shit. The only reason I agreed to talk to you is because you came at me wit’ respect…and I ain’t have shit else to do.” He crossed his big, muscular arms over his chest and grimaced.
“No one paid me not one damn dime, Trey. I haven’t been bribed, never even spoke to that man’s family. Secondly, my job is not on the line, nor am I trying to gain brownie points. My future career goals are contingent upon how I do in here, not what shit I jump into. I’m no Captain Save a Pedophile! He disgusts me. This is so much bigger than that!”
Trey looked him up and down, his dark, icy glare starting from his neck and scanning upward, as if he could read him front and back.
“What do you want, then? Spit it out.”
“I am here because I have respect and consideration for Isaiah, your son. I can’t let his father go down like this… It wouldn’t be right.”
In the Nick of Time Page 40
