by Shay Stone
“I want to be, too.”
I laugh in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? You’re the best person I know. If you were any better, you really would be an angel.”
“You don’t know me either.”
“Oh really?” I hug my arms around her. “And what deep, dark secrets could you possibly be hiding?”
“You’d be surprised.”
There’s a loud crash followed by the sound of glass breaking and swearing. I stroke Nyla’s hair. “Come on my little bad girl. It sounds like Harrison is awake.”
Downstairs, we find Harrison with a dustpan and hand broom sweeping up the shattered pieces of a lamp. He stands with a groan, scowling at me and my half-naked appearance. “Who the hell are you?”
I proffer my hand out of respect. He’s still her uncle, even if he is an alcoholic asshole.
“I’m Memphis. Nyla’s boyfriend. Deal with it,” I tell her when her eyebrow quirks up at my self-proclaimed title.
Harrison ignores my hand and shoves the dustpan and broom at me. “Well Memphis, why don’t you make yourself useful and call me a cab so I can get out of here. Now where the hell are the rest of my clothes?”
“We washed and hung them last night. I’ll get them.” Nyla disappears into the laundry room returning with his things and my shirt. “They’re still a little wet.”
“That’s just great,” he barks, snatching them from her.
“Well maybe if you hadn’t gotten falling-down drunk and puked all over yourself, we wouldn’t have had to wash them,” I snap back, setting the dustpan on the entry table and pulling on my shirt.
“What did you say to me?”
“You heard me.” I’ve had it with this self-entitled prick.
Nyla inserts herself between us. “Memphis don’t.”
“No. I’m sick of him talking to you like you’re a piece of trash. The only reason his ass didn’t wake up in jail is because of you. I think a little gratitude is in order.”
“Gratitude? Gratitude!” he spits, charging forward. “You want gratitude. Fine. Thank you, Nyla, for ruining my life. There’s your fucking gratitude.”
He storms out, leaving Nyla and me alone.
She cups her forehead. “I wish you wouldn’t have said that.”
She’s upset with me? “The guy was asking for it. Someone has to tell him he’s acting like a pompous jerk. And what did he mean, you ruined his life?”
“Nothing. He’s probably still drunk. I should check to make sure he got in a cab okay.” She steps towards the door, but I stop her. Harrison’s too volatile. There’s no way I’m letting her get near him.
“Stay here. I’ll do it.”
“Please don’t start with him again.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
Outside, Harrison is rummaging through his pockets waiting on a taxi. He digs out his phone, grumbling when he sees me. “What do you want?”
“Nothing,” I reply, holding up my hands in a placating gesture and lean against the porch railing.
“Oh, let me guess. She sent you out here to babysit me?”
“She just wants to make sure you’re okay.”
“Sure, she does. Dammit, what the hell is the matter with this thing?” he curses, trying to access his phone.
“Here. Give it to me. What are you trying to do?”
“I’m trying to make a text.” His terminology reminds me of the technological challenges I faced when I taught my dad getting online didn’t involve standing in an actual line.
I get him back to his home screen and hand the cell to him. “There. Now you can send a text.”
“Thanks,” he mutters, watching me from the corner of his eye while typing. “She’s really got you fooled. You’ve totally bought into that whole innocent act of hers, haven’t you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“My darling niece. She likes to pretend she’s this amazing person, but she’s not.”
“She seems pretty great to me,” I snip, wishing a damn cab would hurry up and come. If he keeps talking, I’m going to break my promise to Nyla and let this asshole have it.
“Oh, you think so? Did she tell you she’s been arrested?”
My brows shoot up letting him I have no idea what he’s referring to. “Arrested for what?” I ask, hating to admit that he’s piqued my interest.
He smirks. A taxi slows by the curb and Harrison reaches for the door handle. “Let’s just say I wouldn’t leave any valuables around her if I were you. And if she didn’t tell you about that, I’m assuming she didn’t tell you about Katie either?”
“What about Katie? I know Nyla adored her enough to start a charity to honor her and help other kids like her.”
“You think she does that out of the goodness of her heart? She does it out of guilt.” He scoffs, lowering himself into the car. “Let me give you some advice. Get away from her. She’s already ruined me and damn near destroyed her father. Don’t let Hurricane Nyla take you down, too.”
As he slams the door shut, I see his gaze lift to something behind me. I pivot to find Nyla standing in the threshold. Once again, Harrison has managed to reduce her to tears.
“Hey, don’t listen to him,” I say, climbing a step. She backs up waving me away.
“He’s right. You should stay away from me. You’d be better off.” She tries to close the door, but I catch it pushing my way inside. She’s shutting down and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let her do it.
“I don’t believe that.”
“You should. I’ll hurt you, Memphis. I won’t mean to, but I will. It’s what I do.”
“Then hurt me. Destroy me if you have to. If anyone’s going to do it, I’d want it to be you. I promise you it’s no less than I deserve.” I tuck a wayward tendril behind her ear and smooth my hands down her arms. “Listen to me. Whatever you’ve done, I guarantee I’ve done ten times worse.”
“You don’t know that. You don’t know what it is.”
“Then tell me, and then I’ll tell you I’ve done worse.”
She slips her arms around my waist and tucks her head beneath my chin. “I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
She shrugs.
“Does this have anything to do with Katie?” Another shrug. I squeeze her tighter, rubbing my hand up and down her back. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me now. You can tell me when you’re ready. Or you don’t ever have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t?” she replies, sounding relieved.
“Nope. Your past is your past. We can leave it there if you want. But I don’t understand what you’re so worried about. I already know the worst thing about you.”
She pulls back looking up at me, her brows knitting together with fear. “You do?”
“Yeah. You’re a Yankees fan.”
My little joke works. She gifts me with that gorgeous smile, snuggling back into me. “Um, I’m sorry, but whose team has won the most pennants?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah …” I reply pulling her closer.
“Memphis, will you stay over tonight and just hold me?”
Is she kidding? Jaws of Life couldn’t pry me from her. “I’d like nothing more.”
“And no sneaking off like last time?”
“I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”
As the words leave my lips, my chest tightens because I want them to be true. And not just for tonight. I do want her to open up to me about Katie so I can tell her it doesn’t change my feelings for her. That I’m the last person that would ever judge her. But the thoughts just remind me of what a hypocrite I am. I haven’t shared any of my more nefarious history with her either. If I did, there’s no way she would want to be with me.
I decide not to push any further. For now, the lies will be our truth. We’ll stay in this perfect moment where she’s my angel and I’m her prince. Where the amazing life I’m envisioning for us is a possibility. But deep down I know better. Con men don’t get
happily-ever-afters.
NINETEEN
Learn from Past Mistakes
Friday afternoon Mike enters my cubicle with a cup in one hand and a package in the other. “Well, I’m guessing things are going good with Nyla. I’ve hardly seen you the last two weeks.”
“Yeah, everything’s going great. Right on schedule,” I tell him, continuing to enter figures into an Excel spreadsheet. I’ve spent every night with Nyla. The first two days, I got up early and went home to change before work. But then I grabbed a few suits and my toothbrush and left them at her place and haven’t been home since.
We’re in that disgustingly cute phase of our relationship where we can’t keep our hands off each other and want to spend every waking moment together. Usually, I dread that period, but with Nyla, I can’t get enough of it. When I’m not with her, I’m thinking about her. And I’m not going to lie. It scares the hell out of me.
“Here. This came to the apartment for you. I didn’t know if you needed it. Something called Alpha Bits,” Mike says, reading the label as he hands it to me.
“Awesome! I was hoping it would get here before tomorrow.” I pop up from my chair, using the blade from my scissors to slice through the tape. I spot Nyla passing by and call out to her. She backtracks over to my desk and I hand her the items. “Look, angel. These are those things I was telling you about. They’re small rectangular blocks with pictures and removable letters on them that spell a variety of words. The letters slide in like puzzle pieces. Mikayla mentioned she wasn’t good at spelling and I thought they might help her. I got a couple sets for the kids to play with tomorrow and one set just for Mikayla. Is that weird?”
“No. It’s incredibly sweet. Memphis, these are great. The kids will love them. You’re so thoughtful,” she says, giving me that look that makes me believe I really am the guy she thinks I am. She leans up pressing her lips to mine, and I steal two more kisses just because I can.
The intercom on my desk buzzes and Emily’s voice comes through. “Memphis, is Nyla with you? She’s needed on a call.”
“Coming,” Nyla replies, backing away. “Crap, I’m late. I was supposed to be on that conference call five minutes ago.”
“Lunch today?” I ask, snatching her by the waist again, not ready to let her go.
“Can’t,” she pouts. “I’ve got a meeting across town.”
“You mean I have to go the whole day without seeing you?” Mike rolls his eyes behind her and I flip him the bird. “Are we still having dinner with your dad tonight?”
She wiggles away from me. “Oh … um … no. Sorry, I have to cancel. Alex and I are having a girls’ night. Colin’s out of town for the weekend and he’s a little nervous about leaving her alone.”
“Wanker didn’t even text me,” I reply, checking my phone. “I guess that means we’re not playing basketball Sunday. I wonder if Max knows.”
She glances at an incoming call on her phone. “I’m not sure. You should probably tell him. Sorry, I have to take this. I probably won’t come back here after my meeting. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at the park?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She kisses me once more and answers her phone on her way off. “Hey, yeah, I can talk.”
I watch her, admiring the view until she’s out of sight. Mike sips his coffee, peering at me over the top of his mug.
“What?” I say, sitting in my chair ready to get back to work.
“You’re grinning like an idiot.”
“So?”
“So, I’m worried you’re getting too attached. It seems like you’re really buying into this bullshit life you’re creating.”
“It’s called being good at your job.”
“Maybe. Or maybe this is Callie all over again.”
The mention of Callie’s name has me springing to my feet shoving my finger in his face. “I told you to never bring up that name again.”
“Then don’t make me. Have you even looked at any of those phony purchase orders yet?”
“No. I haven’t had a chance.”
“Well if you did, then you would know Nyla’s a liar and a thief. Yet for some reason, you’re choosing to overlook it. Sound familiar?”
“It’s not like that.”
“You sure? Or is that what you want to believe?”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you? Because I’m starting to wonder. She’s a mark, Memphis. Nothing more. If you can keep her as that, fine. But if not, you’ve got to back off and let me run with this. We’re on a time crunch here. Or did you forget Mason needs a heart?”
“I said it’s under control.”
“Hey Michael, Brad’s looking for you,” a passing employee informs him.
“Thanks. I’ll be right there,” he replies, turning to leave. “Think about what I said.”
I’m glad he’s going because we might have ended up in another fight if he stayed any longer. He knows what a sensitive subject Callie is for me. She’s a painful memory I don’t allow myself to revisit. I try to resume my task from earlier, but I can’t concentrate. Deep blue eyes and a crooked smile keep invading my thoughts.
Damn her.
Callie was the first girl I ever loved. The first girl I ever hated. And the only girl that ever broke my heart. But that’s not what makes her memory painful.
I met her right around the time Sheila introduced me to Vito. I used to bus tables at a restaurant where she worked as a waitress. Six years older than me, with long brown hair that stretched to the middle of her back and doe eyes the color of American Blue Hearts, Callie was every teenage boy’s fantasy.
When it was slow, we would play darts or hang out in a booth and talk. She was pretty, fun, and had an innocence about her that drew me to her. It didn’t take long for me to develop a major crush. But she was married to some asshole she’d dated since high school.
One night while taking out the trash, I found her crying on the ground with her lip busted open. Through tears, she told me her husband had stopped by demanding money to go drinking with his friends. When she refused, they’d gotten into a fight and he’d hit her. She said it was something he used to do on occasion, but it’d been happening more frequently. She begged me not to tell anyone. And because I was young and stupid, I promised her I wouldn’t. I snuck her into the back bathroom and used my bar towel to clean her up.
“He never used to be like this,” she cried as I dabbed the blood from her lip. “He used to be gentle and caring, like you. But now…”
“Why do you stay with him?”
“I don’t know. I want to leave, but I don’t have the money. Hiring a divorce attorney isn’t cheap. And if I did leave, where would I go? I don’t have any family and you’re my only friend here. I need money to get an apartment.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know. Probably about five grand. That would cover the retainer fee, and give me first and last month’s rent, plus a security deposit to put down on an apartment. It doesn’t matter though. I’ve been trying to save up for over a year. Every time I do, he finds the money and takes it,” she sobbed, collapsing into my chest.
Five thousand dollars was a lot of money for a kid my age to come up with. I made minimum wage at the restaurant and most of the cons I pulled were nickel and dime shit that brought in fifty bucks here, a hundred there. But I wanted to help her.
“What if I could get you the money? Would you leave him?”
“Memphis, that’s sweet, but where are you gonna get that kind of money?”
“You let me worry about that.”
She gazed up at me with those big, blue eyes. “You’d really do that for me?”
I pushed her hair from her face and stared back at her, surprised she’d even have to ask. “I’d do anything for you.”
She took the rag from my hand and placed it on the counter. Then she kissed me. A soft, chaste kiss that quickly turned into something more. We ended up having sex right there.
T
hat was it. I was hooked. We’d steal any moment we could, kissing in the backroom or having sex in my truck. It wasn’t long before we were exchanging “I love you’s.” She was married to him, but her heart belonged to me.
I spent the next two months making as much money as I could. Every dime from my paychecks and any money I made hustling went to her. At first, she’d refused to take it, but I insisted. She called me her hero and I loved being that for her.
One night while I was working, a car hit a transformer causing a power outage. When it became clear it was going to take a while to fix it, my boss decided to send everyone home. I wanted to call Callie, but she was with her asshole husband at some church function. Since I couldn’t be with her, I decided to make the most of it and head down to the Boardwalk to pickpocket some tourists. If all went well, I’d have the rest of the money she needed by the end of the night and she could finally leave that bastard. Then we could be together.
I’d just lifted a wallet from another well-known pickpocket when I swore I heard Callie’s voice coming from a nearby patio bar. I plodded over, certain I must be wrong, but there she was sitting on some guy’s lap with her arm around his neck and his tongue in her ear.
“Callie?” I muttered, too gobsmacked to say anything else. Her carefree smile fell, replaced by an annoyed sneer.
“Ah, fuck,” she cursed. Something I’d never hear her do before. “Memphis, you’re supposed to be working.”
“There was a power outage. You wanna tell me what the hell is going on?”
“Who’s the kid?” the muscle man with the mullet asked, swigging his beer.
“He’s no one. Excuse me for a second Tony. This will only take a minute.” She peeled herself off his lap and grabbed my hand tugging me into a corner like a child about to be reprimanded. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here? I was getting the rest of the money you needed,” I said, holding up the cash. “What are you doing here? And why the fuck are you sitting on that guy’s lap?”
She eyed the money. “That’s all of it? The rest of the five grand?”
“Yeah.”