Cure For Pain

by NM Facile

  He sat in his car for a few minutes, utterly lost and alone. Fuck this.

  He took off for Mary’s. She would be there by now. If he could just talk to her, he could make her understand. She would see that he would do anything to be worthy of her, and she would forgive him.

  He sped through the mostly empty streets, driven by his intense need to see her. A light or two may have been run and a stop sign missed here or there, but Ty noticed nothing other than the blur of passing lights. He focused on what he was going to say to her. He was just going to come clean and tell her what he suspected she already knew: he had been caught dealing heroin and had done his time. He would assure her that he had stopped dealing. Hell, he would stop. He had already rebuilt Karl’s trust in him; he didn’t need the petty out-of-pocket bullshit.

  Ty pulled into her lot. He cut the engine and looked toward the back of the building, where he knew her windows were. The place was dark. He had forgotten about the security locks on the outer door, but fortunately it had been propped open.

  Her apartment was the first one on the left. He was about to start pounding on the door when a moment of clarity hit him: this was a bad idea, even worse than going to see her at Safe Works. She wouldn’t be thrilled to have him pounding on her door at two in the morning, especially when she didn’t get home until after midnight and probably had to work the next morning.

  He paced in front of the door trying to decide what to do. He could sit outside and wait until morning. He looked down at his hands and realized they were bloody. His jacket and shirt were splattered with it, too. He could only begin to guess what a disaster his face was. There was no way he could see her like that.

  He couldn’t just walk away, though. He needed to make some kind of contact with her. If only he had thought to get her phone number. He kicked himself for his stupidity. Maybe he could just leave her his number. Would she call? He could only try. He patted himself down, searching for a pen. Of all the times not to have one…

  He ran to the car. He always had a pen in there for work. He spotted one on the floor of the passenger side. When he reached down for it, a spot of pink caught his eye. What the fuck was that? He pulled out the stupid happy meal prize that had come with the meal T-Dog had given him months ago. He tossed it back to the floor and looked around for something to write on. When nothing turned up, his eyes turned back to the pink pad of paper he had discarded.

  No. What would Mary think? There had to be something else. He pulled out his wallet and looked through it for an old receipt he could use. Other than cash, it turned up empty. He thought of writing on a bill, but if he had to leave it outside her door, there was a good chance it would be gone by the time she left for work. The pink paper lay there taunting him. It was his only option.

  He picked it up and ripped the plastic cover off of it, glancing at the pink pen and stickers that fell out of the package. Did little girls really like this shit? He started to write on it, but his damned pen wouldn’t work. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Was nothing going to go right?

  He threw his head back against the seat and pinched the bridge of his nose, aggravating the tender swelling along the left side of his face. He was a mess. He saw the pink pen out of the corner of his eye. He would rather cut open a vein and write in blood before he used that. Fuck. He picked it up, uncapped it and was assaulted with a fake strawberry scent. He started to write out an apology, but it didn’t sound right. He ripped the sheet off, crumpled it up, and started over. Finally, on the fourth take, he wrote a simple:

  I’m sorry. Please call me so we can talk, Ty.

  He left his phone number with it. He read it over a couple of times before taking it inside.

  Of course the apartment would have to have a seal-tight door. There was no crack he could slide the note through. He dropped his forehead against the door, immediately regretting the bang that echoed in the deserted hallway. He recalled the stickers that had fallen out with the pen when he opened the package, and ran back out to the car for them.

  Standing in front of her door again, he looked down at his choices. The happy little face of the redheaded girl smiled up at him, mocking him, calling him a pussy. He groaned and peeled off a plain strawberry, figuring it was the least girlish. He stuck the note to the door and read it over. In the light, he could see that the ink was not only bright pink, it also had sparkles in it. He was losing all semblance of manhood.

  Ty sighed, went back to his car, and drove home, reflecting on how purely pathetic this night had been.

  By Saturday night, he still hadn’t heard from Mary. It was starting to look like she wasn’t going to call. He should have known. He should never have left that note. It had been just one of many fucked-up things he did that night, including flushing over two grand worth of heroin down the toilet. Maybe that hadn’t been completely stupid; it seemed that the one good idea he had had that night was to stop dealing the petty shit. It was a small step towards reforming. He would quit supplying, too, as soon as he could get away without being hunted down.

  Ty had been at work since noon, and wasn’t supposed to be off until eight. He wanted out of there before the big group was due in. He didn’t want to spend his Saturday night stuck washing dishes after them. He was trying not to look at the clock when Dylan popped into the kitchen and let out a low whistle.

  “Holy shit, Ty! What does the other guy look like?”

  “I heard that, Dylan! Watch your language,” Sandra called from up front.

  “Sorry, Mom,” Dylan called back with an eye roll.

  Ty smirked at him.

  “So what’s the story, Ty?

  Ty shrugged and threw another pan in the plastic dish crate. “I had to take care of something the other night.” Ty wasn’t about to tell Dylan about how he had stupidly stepped into a situation that he had no business stepping into, or about how he’d had his ass kicked.

  “Was it someone I know?” Dylan was looking at him with glittering, hopeful eyes.

  “No.”

  “Oh.” His face fell with the disappointment of not getting any details.

  “Ty, you have an order up.” Sandra shouted back.

  “Sorry man, I have to take that.” Ty wasn’t sorry at all.

  “I could ride with you.” That hopeful puppy look was back on his face. Dylan loved Ty’s car almost as much as Ty did, and sometimes Ty took him on runs. The kid was constantly begging Ty to let him drive, but he doubted he ever would. He didn’t trust anyone with his baby.

  Sandra poked her head around the corner. “No, you can’t. You need to go set up for the Greywolf party. They will be here soon.”

  “I’ll have time when we get back,” Dylan whined.

  “No, you won’t. It’s halfway across town. Go get out there and start.” She held out the boxes to Ty. Dylan pouted, but headed to the back room to set up.

  Sandra was right. The delivery was on the very edge of their delivery area. By the time Ty got back, it was after eight. He could hear the group in the back room, celebrating. It was Dom’s family, something for his sister. Maybe a birthday or some shit; he hadn’t been paying attention. He just wanted to cash out and go home.

  He slipped quietly up front to settle up with Sandra, but she wasn’t there. Dylan came in, and Ty asked him if he had seen her.

  “She’s in the back. You need to go back there and check out Big D’s date. Damn, she’s hot.”

  “Good for him.” Ty couldn’t have cared less about Dom’s date.

  “It’s that teacher he’s been talking about. You know, Roz’s. I don’t know what the fuck she’s doing with him.”

  “What did I tell you about your language?” Sandra said, walking by and slapping Dylan up the backside of his head.

  “Sorry, Mom.” Dylan walked away, rubbing his head.

  “Are you ready to go for the night, Ty?”

  He nodded and handed Sandra his cash bag. She methodically went through it, entering the amounts on her adding machine. He stared at th
e floor while he waited, and heard a woman’s laughter from the other room that made him think of Mary’s.

  “Ohhh, that smile says there must be a girl on your mind.” Sandra teased.

  Ty quickly wiped the smile away. “No. There’s no girl.” He tried to keep his voice in check. She could pick up on the littlest hints.

  “Sure there’s not,” she added sarcastically. “It’s about time you found someone; maybe it would tame you some.” She reached out and gently prodded at the bruise darkening his left cheekbone and eye, looking at him with concern. Ty flinched and she pulled her hand back with a sigh. “Have a good night, Ty. And try to stay out of trouble.”

  Ty picked up his cash and bid her a good night. As he headed towards the back door he heard the laugh again, so much like Mary’s. He knew that he was more than likely being delusional, but she did say that she had been here before. He doubled back, just to check.

  He came up short in the hallway that joined the front of the restaurant to the game room in the back that doubled as a party room. There was Mary, chatting with a group of OZ guys, with Dom hovering over her like she was the last cupcake on the counter. What the hell was she doing there? What was she doing talking to Dom? She looked so comfortable, smiling and laughing at what they were saying. Did she not realize what these guys were? Ty had seen the shit they did. They may act like overgrown boys but they were fucking ruthless when they wanted to be. They were thugs, pure and simple. Beatings, theft, drugs, murder. You name it; one of them had committed it. Not to mention the way they treated their women.

  Anger coiled through Ty as he watched them. She shouldn’t be here. His vision turned a hazy shade of red when Dom rested his hand on Mary’s low back, even though she gracefully stepped to the side, away from Dom’s touch.

  Dylan strolled up next to him. “Told ya Dom’s chick was hot! Just look at those jeans on her…”

  Ty growled at him. Those jeans did look good on her, but it didn’t matter. Ty’s face was set in a glare that would have had many stepping back, yet Dylan just looked at him quizzically.

  “Jeez man, what’s your problem?”

  Ty didn’t answer him. He watched Mary flash an uneasy glance at Dom. So maybe she wasn’t as comfortable with him as Ty first thought. Dom’s sister, Rozene, came up to talk to Mary. Dom was saying something to one of his fellow thug buddies, but he was still keeping an eye on her.

  “Wish I had a teacher like that.” Dylan was watching her wistfully.

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s one of Roz’s teachers. That’s why she’s here.” He had Ty’s attention.

  “Mary is Rozene’s teacher?”

  “You know her?”

  Fuck! “Um, I’ve seen her around.”

  “Yeah,” Dylan continued. “Big D goes to pick Roz up from school just so he can see her.”

  Ty eyed Mary curiously as Rozene took her around the room, introducing her to some of her elderly family members. Mary greeted one older man graciously, shaking his hand and smiling at what he said. She swept her fair hair off her shoulder and Ty’s breath caught when he noticed the tight, low-cut, red shirt she had on. Dylan must have noticed at the same time.

  “I bet old Mac got an eyeful when she bent over to shake his hand!”

  Ty didn’t have time to glare at Dylan because Mary was moving in his direction. He wasn’t sure if she had seen him yet, and he didn’t know if he wanted her to. Ty quickly retreated around the corner behind the counter. She wouldn’t be able to see him there if she were walking out to the front. He was hoping that she was leaving. If this party was for one of her students, maybe Mary had just stopped in to say hi.

  When she didn’t walk by, Ty peeked around the corner to see if she was there. When he was sure she wasn’t, he stepped back into the hallway. He looked into the back room and didn’t see her anywhere. Dylan found him.

  “Where’d ya go, man?” he said, “You totally missed it. She walked by here on her way to the bathroom and said hi. Damn, she’s lickable. Dom is so fucking lucky. I bet he gets her mouth wrapped around his dick by the end of the night.”

  Ty shoved Dylan against the wall but before he could do more, he met Dom’s eye. Dom froze but raised an eyebrow at him in question. Ty met his gaze with narrowed eyes. There was no fucking way that Dom was going to get any part of Mary near his dick. He heard a noise behind him and turned to see Mary coming out of the ladies’ room. Her eyes were wide with surprise.

  “Ty…”

  “You’re leaving.” He grabbed her arm and marched her through the kitchen. He dragged her out the back door and into the night. They needed to talk, and it was going to happen right fucking now.

  Once they were outside Ty loosened his grip, and she pulled away from him.

  “Are you a crazy-assed stalker?!” She yelled at him.

  “I fucking work here, remember?” She glared at him, her eyes piercing him. “What are YOU doing here?”

  “That’s none of your business.” The light was shining above her and she was radiant in her fury. Her chest heaved with each angry breath.

  “Do you even know the kind of people you’re hanging out with?”

  She began to laugh dryly. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you. Nikki warned me about you.”

  “So is it the fact that I was a heroin dealer or the fact that I went to prison that disturbs you more?” Ty needed to hear her judgment of his crimes. He needed her to vocalize exactly which fact put him lower than a street thug in her eyes. She didn’t answer. She just stared at him, biting her bottom lip. “Or is it both?” he spat.

  “Neither.” She was so quiet he barely heard her.

  Ty met the muted colors of her eyes. They held his, and he could see the truth behind her statement. Neither?

  He moved forward, keeping her gaze locked to his. “My being a heroin dealer doesn’t bother you?” Mary backed up with each step he took.

  “Are you?” She challenged.

  Step.

  “Not anymore.”

  Step.

  “Were you?”

  Step.

  “Yes. Does it bother you?”

  Step.

  “No.”

  Step.

  “And my prison record doesn’t bother you?”

  Step.

  “No.”

  Step.

  “You think I’m not trouble?” Her back was against the wall and he continued to close in.

  “You’re not.” She whispered.

  Mary’s breathing was ragged. Her eyes widened as he braced his arms against the wall on either side of her. He held her eyes with his. He could feel the warmth of her body, so close; the feel of her breath against his lips; the clean, inviting scent of her skin. He needed her more than he had ever needed anything.

  “And now?” He leaned in closer, drawing a small gasp from her just before his lips pressed down onto hers.

  Chapter 10 - Bitter Chocolate

  Cinnamon. Ty smelled like cinnamon, smoke and raw masculinity. It was a heady combination. His kiss was insistent, demanding. She brought her hands up and pushed against the solid wall of chest that was closing in on her. She was afraid. Not necessarily afraid of Ty, but afraid of these feelings she was beginning to have for a man with a dangerous past and a mysterious present. It would be so easy to let go and give in to her desire for him. All she had to do was part her lips, and she would be lost. His raven eyes peered hotly into hers.

  “What’s wrong, Mary? What are you afraid of?” He shifted his hips forward and pressed his length against her.

  “Afraid? No. Concerned? Yes.”

  He moved slightly, rubbing against her. “About what, exactly?” His voice was low and raspy, and sent sparks shooting through her. She couldn’t let him affect her this way. She needed to fight it. She ducked down and stepped to the side, escaping both his arms and his gaze. He let out a breath and dropped his arms as he stepped back.

  “Ty, I know almost nothing about you except
stories I heard from other people. That’s my first concern. Then there’s the current condition of your face.” He put more distance between them.

  “And what have you heard?” The bravado and fierceness he had displayed a few moments ago was gone. In its place, dejected acceptance, as if he already knew what she had heard. He looked down and kicked at a stone. He looked like a little boy who had just brought home a bad report card, with his lips turned down and his dark hair shielding his eyes.

  “Nikki told me about the dealing and the prison time.” His head snapped up.

  “You said that didn’t bother you,” he protested.

  “It doesn’t, but she also told me that you were still dealing. Are you?” She held his gaze, silently begging for him to please, please say no.

  “Not anymore.”

  She nodded. “Since when?” His eyes shifted from hers to a spot on the wall over her shoulder. He shrugged. “When, Ty? When did you stop dealing heroin?” She held her breath, dreading the answer.

  “I stopped when I decided that the possibility of having you in my life was worth more to me than the money I made dealing.” He met her eyes again. The hard edge of his jaw tilted in challenge.

  She didn’t know how to respond. “You just met me. We’ve only spent a few hours together. How can you know that?” She was equal parts skeptical and awed. Could she trust him, or was this the obsessive nature Nikki had talked about? Everything in Mary screamed at her to believe him, but she wasn’t sure if that was her gut instinct or her lust talking.

  “I don’t know, Mary. I’ve never felt this way before. All I know is that I want to be with you. I haven’t been able to get you out of my thoughts.” His voice was so soft she barely heard him over the pounding bass from the music inside the restaurant. He looked so earnest, yet sounded so confused, like he was questioning it himself.

  “Why me?”

  “Why not you?” They stepped towards each other again.

  Her attention was focused on the little dip just under his lower lip. The way the shadow played across his full lips made that dent look fathomless. She wanted to touch it with her finger—or better yet, her tongue—just to see how deep it went. She leaned in closer, so close that his breath whispered over her face.