Cyrus

by Mj Fields

  She was uncomfortable and I could tell, “My name is Cyrus ma’am. Tara is a friend who may be in trouble. She seemed to have gotten mixed up with some bad people and I just wanted to gather any information…”

  “Tara? Tara Gardner, she isn’t trouble. She never was here. She was a very sweet girl, smart too.”

  “Then why…” I stopped myself.

  “She was here until she graduated, it’s what happens in the system. We do all we can. When you find her, will you please let us know she’s alright.”

  ~

  Nicholas DeAngelo called and told me they were holding Tony for driving under the influence, they could keep him for twenty four hours, that’s it. I had George working on figuring out who the hell owned the video and fix that shit for her. George also had a man lined up to follow that fuck Tony if I hadn’t found her yet.

  I rolled in at past midnight, I couldn’t bang on doors anymore I’d already hit four places around the city. Each the same, homes full of kids, none seemed shady, or any shit like that but I just didn’t get it. I threw my shit on the counter and grabbed a beer out of the fridge.

  When I walked into the living room, I saw my sister in law asleep on the couch. She jumped up startled and hugged me real tight.

  “Carly what are you doing here?” after a minute I patted her back. “Okay you can let go now.”

  “Nope,” I think she was crying, “If I do I’m gonna smack you.”

  “Jase know where you are?”

  She finally stepped back and shook her head yes and wiped her eyes, “Did you find her?”

  “Not yet.”

  I sat and drank my beer, Carly was staring at me, “You need a ride home, C?”

  “No Jase is sleeping in the spare room. We thought …I thought you’d find her.”

  “I will.”

  “So, you like her?”

  “She’s cool.”

  “What do you mean she’s cool? Cyrus… you had sex with her!”

  “I’ve had sex with a lot of chicks Carly, that….”

  “But you like Tara, and not just because she’s cool.”

  “Hey--- hold up there. I have rules Carly. I don’t DO relationships.”

  “Why Cyrus?”

  I really didn’t want to have this conversation with her, “I’m tired C, I have a long day ahead of me. I promise I’ll bring your friend home.” I started to stand.

  “George told me about her Cyrus, everything. Females are emotional to begin with, you saved her from him, she…”

  “She fucking left! I was trying to help her out, I didn’t know any of that shit, Carly.”

  “Did you ask you idiot?! Before you fucked her, did you even bother to ask?!”

  “I told her the drill Carly, she was more than fucking willing! When I confronted her on it she was real fucking happy that she got to choose, that that sick fucker who …”

  “What the fuck is going on in here?” Jase walked out rubbing his eyes.

  “Your brother…”

  “Your wife…”

  Carly and I started talking at the same time. We looked at each other and stopped.

  “Let me explain something to you both, I don’t go out looking to fuck innocent young ladies. She’s a stripper for fuck sake, so this shit you’ve both pulled on me is not okay! I’m trying to find her, I told her I would keep her safe, take care of the fucking brand he put on her body, and make sure the wound from that animal pulling out one of her rings was tended to! I didn’t ask for this shit, but I will fucking take care of it!”

  “You asked for it Cyrus, you went there looking for her. After you told us you’d stay put….”

  “I went there after he fucked with our shop Jase! He came in there with her and fucking marked her, rubbing the shit in my face….”

  “Because you came onto her at the bar,” it was like nails on a chalkboard when Carly made that statement. “You put her in this situation…”

  “No shit C! And I’m gonna fix it, I tried to fix it. She took off!”

  “Well now look what you’ve done! Do you have any idea what someone like her, someone who has lived her life…you care about her, you seeked her out Cyrus!”

  “I wanted to fuck her Carly! And I did…”

  “Why can’t you just admit it!”

  “Okay Baby that’s enough for …”

  “No Jase! No!”

  I watched Jase pull his new wife against his chest as she cried. He looked at me and closed his eyes as he held her, comforting her.

  That shit hurt to watch, “You both know your way out. I need a couple hours of sleep before I go looking for her again. I’m a man of my word, Carly! I’ll find her and help her, but I don’t do relationships, and this is why, I will not fucking break someone ever again.”

  I walked into the bathroom and hopped in the shower, I didn’t wanna be in this bathtub, or this fucking house. But what the hell could I do right now, fuck!

  When I walked out Jase was standing outside the door, “You’ll find her and whatever I can do to help I will.”

  I looked towards the door and Carly stood waiting for Jase, she looked at me a little differently and it pissed me off, “You better not have said a word bro, that’s my shit.”

  “What happened back then was not…”

  “I’m serious Jase, my past-- my shit. If you told her you better make sure she keeps her mouth shut.” I slammed my bedroom door and set my alarm. In three hours I needed to get up and plan out what to do next.

  ~

  The next two days I avoided Jase and Momma. I visited at least a dozen places, all the same. Tara Gardner was a good girl, never caused trouble, kept to herself. So many fucking times I wanted to ask why the fuck then did they not make her part of their family. I was growing real tired of looking at the little hopeful eyes in the homes I visited, knowing that more than half of them would be lost and alone someday just like I knew she was.

  When I finally came home it’d been three days since I’d felt any sort of peace, three days since I knew she was safe. Three days since I’d been able to look in the mirror and see the man I wanted to be, the man I promised my father I would be. Now the reflection shone hollow, angry, and self-loathing.

  I showered and thought about what George had said, “Tony didn’t have her, maybe she just needed to be alone.”

  She had been alone for fifteen fucking years and I knew damn well I couldn’t offer much more than friendship, but I would also make sure she was safe. I dried off and went into my room. Nickey wasn’t around much, I assumed he was staying at Miss Septembers giving me space, he knew I wasn’t in a good place and I was real thankful for that shit. I didn’t need to hear the two of them and be reminded of the last time I got laid. ‘Cause I’m pretty sure after this, I’d be doing background checks on every piece of ass I even looked at twice.

  Birdie where the fuck are you? Was a question I found myself thinking of a lot, at least five times in a minute. I needed to know she was alright, and I swear after I found her I was gonna more than make up for the three sexless days I’d spent since she took off. It wouldn’t be her, but you bet your ass I would be thinking about those green eyes rolling back as she was perched on top of my cock. Fuck!

  I flopped back on my bed and stared at the ceiling I reached down and adjusted myself and it felt pretty damn good. I bent my knees and flattened my feet on my bed and grabbed a hold of my cock and slowly stroked myself up and down turning my hand. I used my other hand to rub my tip and that felt real nice. I reached down and gave my balls a tug and rolled them in my hand, Birdie you’re fucking with me hard. I moved faster and my grip tightened picturing her tight little cunt strangling my cock like it had just three nights ago. My hips moved, and I let my knees fall apart as I thought if Birdie perched on me fucking me. Bouncing up and down on my cock.

  I needed moisture. I was gonna rub myself raw but I didn’t want to stop, not when I could see her in my head so clearly. I spit in my hand and continued str
oking myself. I changed hands when my wrist got sore and I continued pumping myself in one hand and rolling my balls and giving them an occasional tug in the other.

  My body tightened, the muscles in my legs and ass tensed as I hammered my cock up and down faster, harder, tightening my grip. I could see those green eyes, hear her moans in my head and I swear white hot lightening shot through my body. Sweat formed above my brow and I had to grind my teeth to stop from calling out her fucking name. I sat up quickly, pumping harder, faster, until I came so fucking hard my jizz shot all over my chest. I slowed down savoring each stroke and then laid back down trying to catch my breath.

  When I had calmed down I grabbed tissues and cleaned up the mess, fucking Birdie!

  I started to get back up to toss the damn tissues when there was a knock at the door.

  “Yeah?”

  Other than your mother whose voice do you not want to hear with a handful of tissues covered in cum and a sticky fucking chest? That’s right…your sister in law.

  “Cyrus, did you find…” the door swung open and I had just enough time to cover myself and hide the evidence that I had just jerked off.

  “Carly, give me a minute, would ya?”

  She scampered out of the room and if I wasn’t naked covering myself with a damn pillow I would’ve chased her ass out the front door.

  I threw on some clothes and stormed out Carly was standing with her hands on her hips, “You’re having sex with her!”

  Awe fuck, “No Carly I was…”

  “So Tara is missing and you’re in there having sex with some bimbo! Do you even care that…”

  “I’m gonna say this one fucking time Carly, I wasn’t having sex with anyone, no one is here…”

  “Do I look stupid to you! You’re naked, all…you know…covering….it…”

  “I was fucking jerking off!” Carly’s hand covered her mouth and she looked as embarrassed as I was, “We done here Carly?”

  Carly tried to compose herself, “You like her….”

  “We’re not doing this again Carly,” I warned.

  “You know it wasn’t your fault, what happened to…”

  I didn’t wanna hear that my brother betrayed my trust, “You need to stop there because if he ran his mouth to you, he’s not my …”

  “He loves you Cyrus, we want you to be happy.”

  “Enough!”

  She jumped when I yelled, which made me feel like shit but I was still pissed.

  “Cyrus, I’ve known you for…”

  “You don’t know me Carly, you don’t know shit. I’ve had it, I’m getting little to no sleep, stressed out, and no fucking clue where I’m going tomorrow. I’ve been everywhere Tara has lived in fifteen years. …”

  “Where do you go Cyrus? When you’re looking for answers to questions you can’t even comprehend, where do you go?”

  I must have looked at her like she had three heads because she looked away, “Look Carly, call Jase, get home. This is my mess…”

  “You care about her Cyrus…”

  “No, I’m a man of my word. I told her I’d help her, nothing more nothing less.”

  “No, you actively seeked her out, you went there looking for her. You….”

  “God damn it Carly! I wanted to fuck her alright! I don’t do relationships, so get whatever romantic notion you have going on in your head, right the fuck out.”

  “You deserve to have love, Cyrus. What happened wasn’t your fault, you deserve love.”

  She fucking hugged me when I was irate, ballsy as hell but it pissed me off. Then she walked out the door.

  I couldn’t love someone after what I had done to my girl all those years ago. I didn’t wanna feel that way ever again.

  I woke up wondering if I’d really slept at all, but it didn’t matter I had shit to do. I showered, dressed and looked out the window. I walked out the bedroom door onto the deck and leaned against the railing looking at the ocean.

  Fucking Carly! Like a smack in the head I realized where to look next.

  Saint Johns

  I don’t know how long I stood in front of the house I barely remember in Red Hook, New York. My memories were not in a pink baby book, or a pretty little picture album like the ones all of the biological children of the homes in which I had lived. I wasn’t sure if the things that were familiar were memories of mine… or something I’d read in my file.

  What I know for sure is: I’ll always remember the bright lights and the deafening sound of metal colliding and breaking glass. I’ll always remember waking up sore and scared at the hospital emergency room with a woman sitting beside me. I read she responded to the emergency call on a very cold winter’s night, over fifteen years ago. She wore a uniform of some sort but I wasn’t sure she if she was a policewoman or a fireperson, I just know she stayed. She was a black woman, probably in her early twenties. She was very pretty, but had a sad smile, sad eyes, and a very warm comforting hug.

  She stayed with me in that hospital. She explained to me that I was in an accident and that I had a broken arm and had a few stitches. I remember her telling me that my parents loved me. I often wondered how a stranger could know that. How anyone could know what love truly was.

  The house was smaller than I remember and looked like it had been empty for a very long time. If I went in I’m sure no on would notice, but it was wrong. After probably an hour of standing there without a car passing on this back country road it started to rain. Id taken Cyrus’s sweatshirt that had been used as a blanket for the past two nights while I slept in the small park just outside of the village. I pulled it over my head to keep dry. I hadn’t gone in fearing I would be caught or upset someone but now the source of my warmth was getting wet.

  I walked around back and sat on the old broken boards that was a porch long ago. It wasn’t really shelter but it was better than getting rained on. The days were fine, but the nights were getting cold. I sat curled up trying to stay warm.

  If I had stayed in New Jersey, I would’ve probably gone back to the city and stayed in an abandoned home so I wasn’t sure why this felt wrong to me but it did. Tony would’ve probably found me. I was now frightened of him, ashamed of myself for what I had let him convince me was alright, and embarrassed to ever show my face to the man who had shown me a way out. A man who wanted to return me to the people who loved me.

  Cyrus was a good man, even though he was angry at me… I understood why. He didn’t trust me and if I am honest with myself, I didn’t trust me either, not around him. It was too comfortable and I felt too safe. It was hard enough to stay away from Tony, even though he hurt me, he showed me more love than anyone else had—that I could remember anyway. He wanted me to succeed, and until a few days ago I thought it was because he loved me.

  The wind started to pick up, and the rain did too. I was cold and tired and wet. I turned the door knob: it wasn’t locked. I grabbed my bag and pushed the door open, it creaked loudly. I walked into the kitchen, and immediately realized no one lived here. I felt certain no one would be here anytime soon. I tried the light switch and of course, it didn’t work. There was a small table covered in years of dust. I looked around the room and closed my eyes really tight. I imagined that nothing had changed. I imagined that I was five years old, and they were here with me.

  I walked into the next room and the next. I knew I was playing a five year old girl game of pretend, but it felt good here, like home. The first place that had felt like home in many, many years. I looked at the stairs and caution took hold of me. If I fell through them, no one would ever find me. But the tightness in my chest paired with the overwhelming emotions of being here, my only real home, made me not care one bit. If I fell and laid bloody and dying, the pain would wash away and I would sleep eventually. The lady in the hospital said they loved me, my parents loved me, I would be with them, or asleep so it wouldn’t matter.

  I walked up the stairs admonishing any fear. I was prepared to face the end, unafraid. When I reached
the top without issue, I looked at the three closed doors ahead of me and walked on. I didn’t look down at the floor, because I didn’t care if it gave way beneath me.

  The first door was a large bedroom it felt familiar, but again-- I knew that’s what I wanted. The next room was a bathroom and it had a large bathtub. I closed my eyes picturing myself laughing and writing on the shower walls that were once bright white and cheerful, now darkened by years of abandon and neglect. This was a memory, without a doubt.

  The next room would be the hardest, the room where I am sure I had slept for five years. The room that I had envisioned in my head every day. Yellow, pale yellow with butterflies and clouds painted on the ceiling. The room where I still went to when counting didn’t help. I was five, and in warm pajama’s covered up with a thick quilt made by my mother. She and my father would tuck me in, kiss me, and read me a story each night. They would then say prayers and give me one last kiss and say one last ‘I love you,’ before I fell asleep, happy, warm, and feeling loved.

  I stood in front of that closed door fighting the urge to open it. If I was wrong, if the room in my thoughts or memories wasn’t behind the closed door than I knew I would be unable to go there in my mind. I knew that if I was wrong, the times counting didn’t help would be mean no sleep, no peace or serenity. Fifteen years of figuring out how to calm and comfort myself would have been just a wish, and not a memory and I wasn’t sure there would be anything left to hold onto.

  I returned to the bathroom and placed the bag I had bought at the dollar store in the bathtub to use as pillow. I pulled off the sweatshirt and hung it over the wooden dowel towel bar in hopes it would dry enough for me to wear tomorrow. I got in and sat as I opened the bag and pulled out the bag of cashews, a treat that I knew would be enough to get me through until I made my way back into town.

  I ate half the bag. I emptied the contents of the bag. I had bought one bag, two t shirts, three pair of underwear and four pair of socks. I lined them up the best I could. I had five…bags of snack food, six—oh no!