8 Mile & Rion

by K. S. Adkins

  “Where does he live?”

  “I knew I shouldn’t have answered,” he says in an annoyed tone.

  “Where’s your dad’s place Rio? This ain’t the time to fuck around with someone gunning for her.”

  “It’s a bar not a residence, you fucking tourist.”

  “How do you know she’s there?”

  “It’s her and Senior’s place. If she went anywhere, it’s there.”

  “I---”

  “Loyal,” he says lowering his voice, “I ain’t helping you again.”

  “You won’t have to.”

  “Game on then?”

  “Fuck you,” I growl, then disconnect. Reaching into the drawer, I fish around then when I come up empty I beat my fists against the counter. She took the car and had I been thinking straight I’d have known that and called a cab. Dialing again, he picks up on the first ring.

  “I’m out front you fucking idiot,” he says, disconnecting me. Clearing the building, sure as shit Rio was out front like he said he’d be.

  “Your truck, your gas,” I tell him when he floors it.

  “From where I’m sitting, you’re the fucking idiot.”

  Several minutes later he pulls into the lot, parks but doesn’t get out. “You ain’t racing me to the door?”

  “I’m the last guy she wants to see right now,” he says, putting it in gear. “Plus you’ll fuck up again. When you do, I’ll come in and save the day, it’s what I do. You be you and things will work out just fine for me.”

  Then he peels off leaving me half pissed but half impressed with his strategy. He’s still gonna lose, though. Forgetting about him, I open the door and then just stop. This wasn’t like the bars back home, that’s for sure. It looks one way outside but another inside. Seeking her out, I hear her before I see her, but before I make my presence known, I stay behind her and her group content to watch her laugh for a while. For a solid hour, she listened to these guys tell her stories about her dad she’s probably heard a thousand times, but you’d never know it. Her smile was pure love.

  Several more rounds of shots later, she’s telling them her remember the time stories and their eyes never left her face. You meet someone and they tell you things about themselves and you think you got an idea of who they are. Not with her, she’s always changing the way I see her and I couldn’t pick anything bad out about her if I had to. Rion is a simple woman like Rio said. She’s content to talk and laugh expecting nothing in return. She doesn’t need shit except your attention. Her stories, though, man I wish I knew her then. Had I had a chance to know her when I was younger I wouldn’t be such a fucking mess now. The shit she used to get into guarantees whoever was with her was having a fucking good time and I wish I had that with her too.

  Hell, listening to her arrest record alone was worth standing here. Man, she kept Senior on his toes and I felt a little sorry for the guy. As her stories wound down you could see her buzz creep in. Not too long after that while the guys started telling stories again, she stopped smiling.

  Right then and there she shut down.

  She’d had enough.

  She needed a rescue.

  She needed me.

  ‘Abused patience turns to fury.’

  ~ Thomas Fuller

  Staring at my phone, I debated sending Loyal a text. Having no idea what it would say or how I’d be able to manage it given how lit I was, I left it alone. Sinking down in my chair, I completely tuned out the stories that were a stark reminder of what I had lost. Not only did I lose my dad, I was losing Rio and Loyal too.

  At that moment though, it was Loyal I needed. Even with all of his issues, I just wanted to touch him. For him to tell me that even though I wasn’t okay now, one day I would be. More than anything I wanted him to let me in, accept my loving him and at least be open to loving me back. Deep in my heart I knew we could heal each other, it wouldn’t be easy and maybe it wasn’t supposed to be. I just wanted the chance to try, I wanted to be his safe haven.

  When I feel strong hands on my shoulders, I lean my head back and when I look up, Loyal leans down kissing me softly on my nose. “Excuse me gentleman,” he says helping me stand, “I need to be getting my woman home now.”

  With wide eyes they each look from him back to me then back to him again. “Woman?” asks Old Man. “Junior you got a man?”

  “Name’s Loyal,” he says before I can get a word out. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her for me.”

  “What branch you serve in son?” he asks for the group who all look interested in him.

  “Marines, sir,” he says and one by one they fire off their branch, unit, wars fought and years served. Saluting them and pulling me to his side, he wraps both arms around me and gives our final goodbye. “Pleasure meeting you all; be seeing you real soon, I hope.”

  Leading me out by the hand, I take one last look behind me and see each of them looking at Loyal with honest to god admiration. Loyal was just extremely nice to strangers and I didn’t know what in the fuck to do about that. “Keys,” he says holding his hand out. Digging in my bag I drop them in his palm to walk away. “Look at me,” he says, pulling me back again. “Rion I asked you to look at me.”

  “You had no right,” I whisper, trying to pull away.

  “No right to what?”

  Once he’s in, I close my eyes and turn my head. “To tell them I was your woman,” I tell him. “I’m not, and now I can never go back and face them.”

  “Bullshit,” he says starting the car.

  “Bullshit?” I counter totally confused.

  “You heard me. You are my woman and you can go back whenever you want. As long as I’m with you, plus I gotta hear some more stories about you.”

  Speechless, I open and close my mouth like a fish without water. Him showing here, declaring me his and being nice was turning me inside out. Plus, Loyal was being chatty and it didn’t take long before he hit a nerve and all hell broke loose.

  “Running off because you’re pissed don’t solve shit,” he says taking a right turn, ignoring my mood. “You got something to say, you fucking say it. You wanna talk about your dad, talk. If I did some shit I shouldn’t have, call me on it. That’s how love works.”

  Biting the inside of my cheek instead of jerking the steering wheel hoping he hits a fire hydrant seemed the responsible route, but barely. Pulling into the garage I fly out of my seat, slamming the door behind me. The moment I make a play for the door, he’s there blocking me. “Enough with the games,” he growls. “Say what I did and let’s move the fuck on.”

  Squaring off I can feel my lip quivering which is never good. No, I wasn’t going to cry. I was about to go full on female. “To know how love works, you would have to know what love means,” I semi yell because the garage is small and echoes. “The only one in love here is me. You just reap the benefits of it. Stop using my feelings against me. Better yet, just stop using me!”

  Pushing past him I use my hands and feet to climb the two flights of stairs. When I get to the door but have no keys, I sink to the floor to wait for him to open it for me. Standing over me he unlocks the door and rips me apart at the same time. “I know about Rio,” he says with attitude I don’t deserve. “He told me everything.”

  Brushing my ass off, I shoulder past him giving him my own two cents. “That’s good. Besties should tell each other everything,” I whisper. “Now you’ve known about it as long as I have.”

  “You have to choose, Rion.”

  “No Loyal,” I tell him firmly. “I don’t.”

  “You don’t get to play me!” he yells then advances on me. “You said you love me!”

  “You said you didn’t love me!” I scream pushing him away when he tries to hold me in place.

  “I never said anything!”

  “That’s the fucking point!”

  “You love him, Rion? Is that it?” he asks, releasing me and backing up. “You tell me you love him, that he wins, I’ll go. I just need you to say it.”<
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  “It’s not a competition,” I whisper. “I can’t see a winner when either way I lose.”

  “Fucking selfish,” he growls heading for the door.

  “Am I?” I ask, stopping him. “Are you sure about that? Was I selfish when I offered you a home, or was it a job or maybe was it my body? Pretty sure my benefits package was top notch! Oh wait, now I remember, it was when I told you I loved you and instead of saying it back, you crushed me.”

  “I crushed you?” he growls. “’Cause I don’t just fall in love like you do? You gonna pick him because he said the fucking words? That’s what you need? The god damned words? I see a fucking therapist for you!”

  The tears come and I can’t stop them. “What I needed was you to confide in me, not Rio, me. You won’t let me help--”

  “I don’t need your god damned help!”

  “Why can’t we drive to your home and get your truck? What are your nightmares about? You don’t talk about your past or anything personal. I just want to know you, Loyal.”

  “Knock it off,” he warns me.

  “Tell me why. Why don’t you want me to know these things?” I beg him. “What are you hiding from me?”

  Taking four massive steps, I can feel him breathing down on me. His anger was a physical thing surrounding me. Only I didn’t fully comprehend it because I was still buzzed and highly emotional. “Shut it down,” he orders me, but I don’t. I opt for looking up at him and adding yet another nail to the coffin instead.

  “If you want to be a part of my life, you need to trust me enough to tell me the truth. I deserve the truth. I won’t settle for less when you keep offering me shit while I’m giving you everything I’ve got!”

  My next breath had me pinned to the wall with his forearm in my throat. His breath was hot in my face and his expression morphed into a man I didn’t know. “I fucking hate you, Jill.”

  All I heard was Jill and in that moment I knew any hope I had for him loving me was a fool’s dream. Digging my nails into his forearm wasn’t working. Kicking him wasn’t either. Loyal was a wall of strength and hate. Now my vision was starting to go black and I wasn’t strong enough to break free. All I could feel was his anger while he looked at me with pure hatred but saw someone else.

  The enemy.

  Jill.

  Then there was a grunt, followed by my body crashing to the floor. With my hands at my throat, I cough fighting for air. It’s then that sound registers and I see that Rio has Loyal in a choke hold. “Go!” Rio yells to me. Frozen in place, I watch as awareness slowly comes back to Loyal. When he sees me on the ground holding my throat the aggression leaves him and remorse sets in. He doesn’t fight Rio as he drags him from the room either. Once they’re both out in the hall I can hear Rio yelling, but can’t make out the words. On shaky legs, I peer outside the door to see Loyal bleeding from his temple and Rio with a knife in his hand.

  Fighting the urge to go to him despite what had just happened, Rio blocks my path preventing me from going anywhere. Locking eyes with me, Loyal says nothing. Silently begging him to stay, I reach my hand out toward him but he doesn’t come to me. Instead, he turns and walks away. Scared and numb, Rio ushers me back inside, locks me in and doesn’t speak to me either.

  My solution to all of this?

  Vodka.

  ‘It's a sad man, my friend, who's livin' in his own skin and can't stand the company.’

  ~Bruce Springsteen

  For three weeks I’ve been here at the VA hospital committing myself to intensive therapy and treatment. That night in Rion’s apartment haunts me. It was also a wakeup call that I needed professional help. I wasn’t diagnosed with PTSD which was the box my previous doctor tried sticking me in. After days of constant evaluation, I was instead diagnosed with Post-Deployment Syndrome.

  My case may not be as extreme as some, but the years of seeing death and the worst of humanity took a toll on me. Whether or not my final op was the one that put me over the edge, we’ll never know, but saving what was left of that little girl fucked me up in a big way. Losing my dad, raising my brother and watching my mom kill herself with alcohol set the stage. Unfortunately, my unhealthy relationship with Jill didn’t help either. Then I signed myself up for years more of it by taking lives in the hopes of saving some.

  When I came here, I was angry.

  Fuck, I was angry about everything and I always had been. Each day though, my therapist teaches me the tools I’ll need to survive on the outside. Sharing with her not only what I’d spent years doing to Jill who I thought deserved it, but recently to Rion who didn’t, had me vomiting in the bathroom after each session.

  Placing blame and hating yourself is easy. Admitting you need help ain’t. Being a solider wasn’t easy either but it made sense to me. I was good at it. I told myself I was doing something good. Maybe I was, but the effect it was having on me long term was not. Even as a kid I wasn’t what you would call happy. My upbringing was strict, then one day it wasn’t and I never coped with it. Bouncing from house to house wasn’t good for me, but I was a foster kid and nobody gave a shit. The Marine’s gave me the discipline I needed, the outlet I needed and the tools I needed to be good at my job. When I was no longer useful to them, they cut me loose and my spiral continued. I came here hoping to make it stop. To make it all stop so I could start over.

  This morning my therapist quoted Ajhan Chah, she said;

  There are two kinds of suffering: the suffering that you run away from,

  which follows you everywhere, and the suffering that you are willing to

  turn and face and thereby find liberation.

  All these years I told myself I’d be a Marine forever. When I no longer was, I had no warning and no way to prepare, which also made me angry. Coming home to find Jill like I did, made me angrier. Not because I loved her, but because she was one more thing that I didn’t have control over. Meeting Rion and not being able to be the man she deserved made me angriest of all. I perceived all these things as a betrayal and acted out.

  As much as I wanted to talk to her, it was the memory of her reaching for me after I nearly choked her to death that stops me. The staff put my cell phone in a locker for when I left because my focus had to be on healing while I was here. The first few days were the worst. I wanted to kill the people keeping me from my phone and from her. Then after that first week, I was allowed a call. Each evening at seven p.m. even though I wanted to hear her voice, I called Rio instead.

  He asks me how I’m doing, I tell him about my progress. He asks me if I need anything, I tell him no. He asks me if I’m coming back, I tell him that I don’t know. He never mentions her and I don’t ask. The thought of her choosing him is an indescribable pain I’m unable to cope with. But I told myself if she did, I needed to respect that and move on.

  Giving myself one more week before I sign out, I take to heart every session. I use the tools and I take the meds. Today I started group therapy where I listened as husbands admitted to hurting their wives, ignoring their children, losing their jobs and even attempting suicide.

  We signed up thinking we were invincible only to find out that we weren’t. One of the guys in my group, Big John, told me he broke his wife’s wrist when she asked him to do dishes. He doesn’t know why that set him off and that he didn’t remember doing it, but seeing her hurt nearly killed him. He also said, she didn’t leave him even though he begged her to. She told him that when he came home the war ended for him, but started for her. She loved him enough to stay and help him fight. He loved her enough to let her, but he knew he needed help first.

  A lot of the guys here have nightmares about the things they’ve seen and done. My nightmares are about what I did to the woman who loves me, a woman who only wanted to help me. A woman who fought for me when no one else would and I nearly killed her.

  Even if it was just to say thank you and goodbye, I had to see her one last time.

  She needed to hear that I was sorry for what I’ve done. />
  Letting Rion go would be the hardest mission I’ve ever carried out.

  ‘You asked me why I never remarried. The day she died my heart was torn into two pieces. One piece was buried and the other belongs to you.’

  ~Senior

  For each step forward, I take two steps back. For nearly a month he’s been gone. I’ve sent him text messages, left him voicemails and he’s never responded. Last night after a long talk with my friend Lina, she told me she still had no leads on his brother. Honor Hart simply did not exist. She also said that if I was what Loyal truly wanted, nothing could keep him from me. Looking in my mirror this morning, I wiped the tears away and decided it was time to let him go. Despite my hoping for it, he wasn’t coming back for me. Lina was right, I wasn’t what he truly wanted.

  I can’t say I didn’t try. Even in his absence, I went to a therapist hoping to understand what he was going through. In the event he came back, I would have the tools to help both of us succeed. The things I learned kept me awake at night. Knowing he was out there alone, without help was killing me. I wasn’t sold on Loyal having PTSD, Senior told me all the time you’re gone you can’t wait to get back home. Then you do get home and nothing made sense to you.

  Senior also said, you don’t just leave war behind. He said that it followed you always, it changes you. You don’t just blend back in after something like that and to me it seemed unfair he was expected to. Loyal rescued hostages. I can’t imagine what something like that took from a man. My hope was that one day Loyal would be happy, that he would meet a woman who would bring out the best in him. It was in there too, I just knew it was going to take the right woman to do it. It broke my heart that it wasn’t going to be me.

  My relationship with Rio at this point is undefined. The night Loyal left, I had assumed he would come back, apologize and we would make sure it didn’t happen again. I told Rio that whether Loyal and I worked out or not, that I wasn’t in love with him like he thought he was with me. I also knew I never would be. When he persisted, I explained further that he was either going to be in my life or he wasn’t. After Loyal left, Rio only stuck around to make sure I was safe, nothing more. Rio didn’t want to be near me anymore, our friendship had fractured and it was tearing me apart.