by T. L Smith
A door slams, Casey squeals and runs toward it leaving me sitting at the bench. I hear kissing, whispers, and then they walk in. He’s not what I expected. I thought he’d be someone more like Roger, someone who’s fake, but he isn’t, I can tell straight away. He sizes me up, looks at me with questioning eyes. He’s tall, almost as tall as Black. His head is shaven, he’s built, but looks very dangerous. His jeans are ripped, his shirt is tight, showcasing his muscles. He has on black boots which remind me of Black’s. Why is he in my head? He tied me to a bed for fuck’s sake. But he also saved me.
“You a druggie, girl?” he asks, stepping closer. I feel like I want to sink into the chair and hide.
“Sax,” Casey says, embarrassed.
“Yes,” I reply, looking straight up to him. There’s no need to deny it, it’s evident by the way I look.
“You need to leave,” he says, stepping back, waving his hand to the door.
I stand and Casey screams, “No!”
“She isn’t going anywhere.” She looks back to me. “Sit back down. Please,” she adds, then pulls Sax away.
They disappear, words are spoken, raised and rushed. I sit there, unsure of what to do. Maybe I should go, it might be easier than dealing with this. Then he walks back in, without Casey, making me nervous. He tucks his hands into his pocket, raises his head until we’re eye to eye.
“I don’t know you, but Casey seems to think you’re a good person. Though the scars on your arms are evidence that might not be correct.” My hand snakes up and tries to cover them. He notices and follows my movements.
“She told me vaguely…” he pauses, searching my face for something, “…about Roger.” My body shudders. I can still feel his eyes on me. Watching, trying to form an opinion of me.
“You’re staying, Rose, no matter what he says,” Casey says, walking past her man and pointing her thumb at him.
“I don’t want to cause trouble,” I mumble. I don’t, no matter our differences.
“No trouble,” she says, brushing it off with her hand and going back to cooking. Sax takes a seat next to me. Not close, but just so I know he’s there.
“Where have you been?” he asks me, watching Casey. I think he’s talking to her until he turns to me. “She said she hasn’t seen you for quite some time.”
“In Lowood.” Casey gasps. Sax looks to her and then back to me.
“Why?” she asks, leaving the stove and walking to me. She leans over then bench and looks at me, waiting for me to answer.
“I don’t remember much, it was a pretty low time. But there was a man, he helped me.”
Casey smiles. “What man?”
“I don’t know him, but he seems familiar,” I mumble, thinking about his eyes. The way he watched me seemed so…
“What’s his name, woman?” she says excitedly.
“Black,” I answer.
Sax swears next to me, making us turn to face him.
“He’s not the helping kind, sweetheart,” he says, shaking his head.
“No, but he did.” I look to him. “You know who he is?”
He nods. “Yes, and if you are trying to improve, he’s not someone you want in your life. Blackness surrounds Black.”
Stella is here, she’s always here. I can’t seem to rid her. No matter how harsh my words, no matter the number of times I reject her, she doesn’t leave. She’s on my couch, naked, with only heels on her feet. She’s laying down, her heels up on the edge. Wanting something from me, something I can’t give her. I didn’t come last time, I couldn’t.
I turn my back to her. I hear her disdain. Just choosing to not acknowledge it.
“Put your clothes on.” I pick up my phone, not even bothering to turn around to face her. I have several messages, most from numbers I don’t know, probably requesting work.
“Black,” she moans, and I turn around to look at her. She didn’t even bother heeding my request. She’s now touching herself, and my dick bounces. But nothing more comes from it. I turn to leave, stopping in front of her and grabbing the blanket to throw over her. She stops, and as I begin to leave a shoe is thrown at my head, barely missing me.
“I will leave and never come back!” she yells after me. I stop on my stairs. She’s now standing at my door, watching me. I turn slowly.
“Please do,” I say then continue walking. The shoe hits me on the head this time. But I don’t stop, I keep walking until I’m in my truck and pull away.
I’m meeting Jake in the city tonight. And as I pull up, I see his Harley parked in the street. It gleams, brightly polished. I step out and see him automatically through the doors. He’s sitting with two other men, his posture straight, not relaxed in the slightest. He isn’t comfortable, that much I can tell before I even step in.
The hostess asks for my jacket. I dismiss her and continue walking to Jake. His body seems to relax at the slightest sight of me. I sit next to him, across from two men in suits. One doesn’t even look up to acknowledge my presence. The other stares at me intently. I stare back, and he starts to smirk. I don’t.
“Black, these men require your service.” I look to him, then back to the men. Both are now looking at me. Waiting for me to reply.
“Jake,” I warn. He knows my answer. I don’t deal with people who meet with me. That’s how trouble is caused, accusations happen. Blame.
“It’s a favor for the club,” he murmurs. I shake my head. I’m not doing this, it’s not happening. He may be one of my closest mates, but I’m sick of cleaning up for the club, too many times that shit has happened.
“It’s not happening!” I go to stand and the man in the blue suit stands with me. He looks me directly in the eyes.
“I need this done. Clean. Fast. You can do that! I have heard of you. Just do it and I will pay you double.” My head shakes again, and his face morphs to angry. It doesn’t bother me. These men, these types of men, they’re lazy. They think killing a scorned lover or a work rival will fix all their problems. It won’t, and I won’t deal with it, even if the money is good.
I don’t stand there any longer and listen to any more pleas. I walk out and head straight to my truck. A hand grips my shoulder, making me turn. I know who it is already. If I didn’t and someone touched me that in way they’d be on the floor.
“Hands.” I clench and Jake backs up a step. Seeing how it makes me feel, he shows his hands in surrender.
“Drink, we need a drink,” he says, nodding his head to a dive bar across the street. I want to go back home. Hopefully it’ll be quiet. No Stella there. Though I won’t bet on my luck.
“Stella still whoring around?” Jake asks as we slide onto the stools in front of the bar. He nods to the bartender for two beers and I shake my head.
“She’s a stage ten clinger, and I don’t even let her touch me.”
He bursts out laughing. “You don’t let anyone touch you. But seriously, you want me to come around and ride her?” He leans in close, waiting for my answer.
“If she’s there when I return, I’ll call you.” His head bounces up and down while the beers are set in front of us.
“I fucked this bitch last night. She was like a fucking gymnast, man. Ever been with a gymnast?” he asks excitedly. I shake my head as he’s way too excited. “So anyway, got the bitch doggy style, she’s taking it good from behind when I lift her ass up in the air higher. You wanna know what she does?” He leans in close, a smirk touches my lips. “She does the splits, mid-air, cock buried deep inside of her, like holy mother fucken shit…” His head shakes back and forth.
“Gymnast, ha?” I ask, trying to contain my smirk. This fucker is way too excited.
“Yeah, I fucked her three times, three motherfucking times without the help of any drugs. The way she bends…” he whistles loudly, “…had me going back for more.”
“You’re a stallion, three times my man, a new record.” I tap his back and he shrugs me away.
“What? You did it more than three times?” he qu
estions.
“More,” I mutter, picking up my beer and putting to my lips.
“How many more?” he questions, waiting for my answer.
“Many more.” I smile.
“Fuck you, Black,” he says, nodding to the bartender. My phone beeps and I look down reading the text.
Unknown Number: I know I shouldn’t contact you. But thank you so much. Rose.
He never wrote back and it’s been days. I expected something, anything. But I got nothing. I’ve been staying at Casey’s, our friendship is on the mend, and even her fiancé has warmed up to me. He was the one that gave me Black’s number, but not to use it excessively, just to say what I needed and then I should delete it.
Some days are hard, so much harder than others. Some days I feel the need, the need to sell everything I own and buy what I need. The hit, the high.
I was hired and am now working at the local ice cream shop. It’s simple, nothing drastic, but it’s helping keep me distracted until I can achieve what I need to.
Casey has also spoken to my mother. She said that she wants to see me and that I should go and see her. I don’t know if I can. I need to feel better about myself first by trying to get my body and health back. I’m still way too skinny, too unhealthy. Though thanks to all Casey’s and Sax’s cooking so far all that’s changing. I can feel the clothes that I came with are fitting a little tighter, the dress now hugging instead of hanging on me. Casey had a few of my old clothes which she gave me. They’re still too big, but slowly I will get back into them.
I have to start work in an hour, so I decide to leave now. I don’t want to burden anyone, so I choose to catch a bus and walk the rest of the way. It’s not too far from Casey’s and is within walking distance. Once I get off the bus, it’s about a fifteen-minute walk to the shop. I stop along the way, admiring clothes in the boutique stores when my phone beeps. I look down and see that it’s my mother asking to see me. She’s sent that same message twice already and I still haven’t responded.
A hand lands on me, my foot misses its next step and I almost fall forward into hard and lean muscle. With my hands now on his abs, my nails almost digging in, I hear a sharp intake like I’m hurting him. I look up, and the man I see makes me gasp.
“Black?” I whisper, his face looks stricken and pained. He looks down and I notice my hands still on him, touching him, so I quickly remove them and his body relaxes instantly.
Was me touching him that bad?
“Rose,” he says, stepping back so we aren’t so close together anymore.
“I messaged you,” I say, not knowing what else to talk about.
“I know.” My head shoots up to stare at his face, sunnies covering over his eyes.
“You got it?” I ask in disbelief. I look at him. I always seem to be lost in his appeal. Appeal I’m sure he doesn’t even know he possesses. Always dressed the same, though, a black suit, a silver watch, white shirt, and black boots. So mouth-wateringly gorgeous.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you write back?”
“I don’t deal with phones, they’re for business purposes only,” he says, like that’s the only answer I will get.
“Okay…” I mutter, looking behind him. I need to continue walking so I won’t be late.
“You working?” he asks, finally looking at me, noticing the outfit I have on. It’s a pinstriped skirt and blouse top in red and white.
“Yes, and I can’t be late for my second shift,” I say, stepping to the side to go around him.
“I’ll walk you then.” I start walking, Black keeping up beside me.
“You’re very full on,” I say, more to myself than him.
“How so?” I look to him, his eyes straight ahead. I can feel that he’s well aware of my stare though, like he knows it’s there. Though he chooses not to acknowledge it.
“You’re different, mysterious, dangerous, but kind.” I list the things I already know about him.
“I’m anything but kind, Rose.” I stop and turn to face him. He goes to keep on walking, but notices I’ve stopped and faces me.
“You are. Why would you think otherwise?”
He leans in close, so close his breath is on my ear before he talks, “You would hide and wish you’d never met me if you knew the truth. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?” He stands up tall and continues to walk and I run to catch up with him. “It’s best if you don’t contact me again,” he says, stopping outside the shop where I work. I give him a puzzled look. Like that will happen. He’s somehow stuck in my head, like a lion trapped in a cage just waiting for its escape.
“Okay,” I mutter, walking into the shop, trying my hardest not to look back.
My shift is almost over. I’m working with a teenager, and he has more experience than me, which kind of makes me sad. Luckily he’s nice and helps me when I have no idea what I’m doing. A ding chimes, letting us know that customers have just walked into the store. I move to make my way out the front and just as I do I hear his voice, laughing loudly. I stop, looking around painfully for Brett. He’s sitting on a stool, playing a game on his phone. I wave to him, hoping he’ll look up. I don’t want to yell out. I’m sure he’d recognize my voice if I speak.
Roger sings out hello from the front. Brett looks up, searching around for me. When he spots me, I point and mouth for Brett to serve him. He gives me an odd look, looks back to me then to the front again. I place my hands in a begging position and he finally stands and serves Roger. I stand there, listening to what he says, how sweetly he talks to his new girlfriend, and knowing it’s all lies.
I cringe when he calls her baby, and I tremor when I hear him tell her he loves her. I want to choke when he kisses her. It’s not from affection or jealousy—it’s pure hatred that I have for this man now, nothing but hate.
I sit there until they leave, I stay there even when Brett comes back, giving me a confused look. “You don’t want to serve Mr. Roger?” he asks, using his first name. This time it’s my turn to give him an odd look.
“You know Roger?” I ask, confused now.
“Yes, he’s a regular. Comes in nearly every weekend.” I groan as my hands fly to my face. Just my luck. “Look, your shift is almost over. Why don’t you just head off and I will close up?” I thank him and make my way out, noticing Casey waiting for me in her car out the front. She smiles and waves me over.
“Did he see you?” These are the first words that leave her mouth. Of course she saw him.
“No.” I shake my head back and forth.
“Well, I came to get you because we have a dinner guest,” she pipes up, starting the car and driving.
“Who?” I ask her.
“The man you said saved you… Black.”
She looked better, her color has come back to her. Her eyes aren’t as dull as they once were. She’s putting on weight, her tits are filling out, her hips gaining roundness. I watch as she walks away from me and out of my life again. It's starting to feel like a never ending cycle—in again, out again.
As I walk back to my truck I feel the stares of people looking at me. I’m used to it. I walk as though I don’t want company, which is true. I don’t. I turn, feeling eyes on me, and see someone I haven’t seen for a very long time. He looks exactly the same as he always does—bald, built, and intimidating. He walks directly to me, nods his head, and looks me up and down.
“You here to see her?” he asks, his head nodding over in Rose’s location.
That must be where she got my number, Sax has it for jobs he can’t complete due to his work.
“You gave it to her?” I question him, already knowing the answer. He nods. We stand there in an uncomfortable silence until he finally says something.
“Dinner at mine at six?” he asks. I give him a puzzled look. We don’t socialize, it’s not the way I roll with him. “Rose will be there,” he adds.
I think about it.
Do I want to see her again? I know the answer to that straigh
t away. Of course I do.
But should I? That’s probably a no.
“Text me the info,” I say, walking past him. I didn’t just come into town just for this meet, I came to see my clean-up crew. The ones that clean up the dirty things after I’ve finished the worst of it.
“John,” I call out as I enter. His head pops out and he continues chewing on his sandwich. He waves me in and I follow. Dead bodies line the morgue and he’s eating? I may be able to kill, torture, or maim someone, but eating around dead bodies is not my thing.
“You got payment?” he asks, shoveling the last of the sandwich in his mouth and wiping his hands on his coat. I pull out a stack of cash, and he smiles with his mouth full as walks over to it.
“I just cremated the last one. How many more this week?” He counts the money while talking to me. I met John one night when I was younger and new to the game. He offered me his services when he heard what I did, though it comes with a hefty price tag. To have this advantage where no one actually finding remains anywhere is a bonus, and the authorities would not think to look in a morgue. So I owe him big, hence the reason I pay him big.
“None,” I tell him. He stops counting and looks up to me.
“You turning a new leaf?” he jokes, but he may be possibly right.
“Business is slow,” I say, not letting my thoughts show. He nods his head and points to a bag of ashes.
“You want them?” I look at the bag of ashes that used to contain a living, breathing person and shake my head.
By the time I’ve finished at the morgue, I drive to the address Sax sent me. I think about turning back several times. Not going, but a pull I do not understand draws me in that direction.
So when I pull up and Sax is waiting out the front for me with a beer in his hand and a smoke between his lips, I hope I’ve made the right decision.
He hands me one and I take a seat on the veranda across from him. He doesn’t say anything, just passes me a beer and looks out.