Extraction

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Extraction Page 10

by Turner, Xyla


  Kylie went to Razor, Shay went to Bronx and the woman they called Lori stayed next to Phoebe.

  Apollo just stared at her and she refused to look his way.

  Damn.

  “Hey, you must be Phoebe,” Razor started. “I’m Razor, President of the Legion of Guardians. This here is Bronx, my VP, and this one right here is Apollo, my Sergeant at Arms. Oh,” he said as he looked towards me, “don’t know if you’ve officially met my wife Kylie and that’s Shay, Bronx’s wife, and Lori is right next to ya.”

  I nodded and Phoebe said, “Oh wow, nice to meet you guys. I’ve never met members of a real biker club before. Do you have drag races and travel around the country in one line?”

  Everyone erupted in laughter before Razor answered her with a smile on his face. “No, darlin’. We are what you would call a biker club but we also deal in the humanities. We help folks and Guardians don’t need to be bikers to join. We recruit ordinary citizens and have created such a network that we have skilled members of every craft.”

  “Wow!” Phoebe exclaimed. “That’s brilliant.”

  Razor nodded his head and said, “Yeah.”

  There was more laughter around the table.

  “Well, looks like we’ll be seeing more of you,” Apollo said as he stood up.

  “Yeah, I’m looking forward to it,” I responded.

  “Nice,” Apollo said before he bent down and said, “Welcome home, brother.”

  He patted my shoulder and stood next to Lori and whispered, “Need to talk with you.”

  Phoebe’s arms tightened around me, so I pulled her around so she was on my lap.

  Lori whispered back and said, “Leave me alone, Connor.”

  “I need to talk to you now, Loriline. Now are ya coming or am I putting you over my shoulder?” He was no longer whispering.

  “Fuck,” she exclaimed and turned towards the door to leave with Apollo trailing behind her.

  Shay, Bronx, Kylie and Razor were all trying to hear them but no one seemed alarmed. Phoebe broke the silence, “She really doesn’t like him.”

  “Girl, you have no idea,” Shay said as she shook her head. “Those two need to fuck already and get it over with or something.”

  “Fuck,” Kylie said. “No, that won’t help. Didn’t you try that with Bronx, now look at you.”

  “Sweetheart, you tried that shit with me,” Razor chimed in. “Now, look at you.”

  He rubbed her belly.

  “That’s what I’m saying.” Kylie nodded her head. “They’ll end up married, she’ll be knocked up and have swollen fucking feet.”

  Phoebe burst out laughing at that but I covered her mouth.

  “What’s so funny?” Shay asked.

  She pulled my hand from her mouth and said, “Because we did the same thing and now I’m pregnant. How big will my feet get?” she asked.

  “Oh wow, congratulations!” Shay jumped up and down on Bronx’s lap.

  “Yes, that is awesome!” Kylie exclaimed as she rubbed her protruding belly. “We can be pregnant buddies.”

  “No, y’all have to wait for me. I’m coming. I’m telling you.” Shay said and hit Bronx on the chest. “Right? Tell them.”

  He raised his eyebrows towards her and said, “We are actively working on making a baby.”

  “Yes, now, let’s get on that. I learned a new position from Kylie.” She hopped up and pulled Bronx up from the chair.

  “Right, can’t turn down sex or new positions,” Bronx nodded, then looked at me. “Brother, I’ll be seeing you. Phoebe, nice to meet ya. I’m sure I’ll see you around soon.”

  “Most definitely,” she nodded. “I won’t let him keep me away.”

  “Well,” I said. “We should be going. Razor, thanks again and I’ll see you on Monday.”

  “Yeah, I’m looking forward to working with you.” He nodded. “Got a good feeling.”

  “That means something,” Kylie added with a smile.

  “Same here,” I said and stood Phoebe up, so we could leave.

  The ladies said their goodbyes and as we went to get in the car, we heard scuffling and heavy breathing. I tapped Phoebe’s side to get her in the car faster, just in case there was something dangerous about to go down. As I rounded to get in the truck, I saw Apollo and Lori against a nearby car with their foreheads touching and both were breathing heavy. His body was pressed against hers and her hands were on his chest, while his right hand had her long brunette hair in a possessive grip.

  “Connor, we cannot do this, okay?” Lori seemed to be pleading.

  His real name must be Connor because she’d called him that before but he introduced himself as Apollo.

  “Why?” Apollo said through gritted teeth. “Why won’t you fucking admit it. It’s okay to want to be with me? Nobody cares about before. I was drunk. Fucked up and out of my mind. How long will you make me pay for that shit? Told you, I know about that shit. I know.”

  “You’ll never understand.” She tried to shake her head. “You don’t get it. You fucking humiliated me. The whole town has cried, poor Lori. Feel sorry for Lori. She was so in love and now I’ve been publicly embarrassed. You think I can just go out with you, like nothing ever happened. Like, oh poor Lori, finally got her man. No!” She pushed against him. “I’d never be with you. Never!” she yelled.

  Shit.

  “Even though you love me. Even though, I told you, I’d spend my life making it up to you. Even though you want me more than that prick you were thinking of marrying. In spite of all of that, you care what people think. You’re better than that. You came back and said, fuck me. Now why can’t you say, fuck them?” he asked as he let her go.

  She straightened her clothes and sneered, “I won’t say fuck them because they weren’t the one who stole my heart, crushed it into a millions tiny pieces and then tried to waltz back in my life to tell me to get over it.”

  Tears started pouring down her face.

  “They didn’t do that, Connor. You did. Now, for the last time, leave me the fuck alone. We will never be!”

  Those were her parting words as she turned the opposite way and went back towards the bar. Apollo stood there for a moment and followed her, yelling, “Lori, Lori.”

  That was when I had seen enough and went to get in my own car, take my woman home, and thank God I didn’t have those problems.

  Chapter 11

  Charmed

  Phoebe:

  The next week, it seemed that things with Goliath and I had accelerated significantly. He wanted to meet my doctor so it was clear that he was the father. I told him I hadn’t selected a regular doctor just yet because I had been set on moving but the man did not care. I no longer cooked unless I beat him to the punch.

  Goliath had transformed into a gourmet chef overnight, after staying up all night researching foods that were good for the baby and the mother. I swear five-thousand cookbooks came to the house and he had been cooking his tail off.

  He had moved most of his items into my apartment and spent most of his time there. I had given him a key because it was officially official. There were no friendship topics, no uncertainty about how to introduce me or reluctance to say what my place was in his life. When we went out, he called me his woman or lady. His hands were constantly on me and he watched me like a hawk. Ollie said that’s what men do when they are in love. The old wise one was never surprised about anything anymore. He said he was too old for that shit; surprises.

  My jewelry business had really taken off, causing me to increase my inventory. One day, out of the blue, someone ordered my most treasured piece and they paid for it in full. It was an extremely pretty piece of jewelry that was much like a charm bracelet. It was a combination of items I collected from each state on my way to move to Lily. It was colorful, pretty and special to me since it spoke of my transition and the stops I had to make to get there.

  I felt that it added everything up to equal where I was. No more charms had been added but when I showed
Goliath, he thought I should keep it for myself and not sell it because it wouldn’t mean the same thing. He had a point, but I kept it on the site and now someone wanted it; so I had to ship it off.

  It was bitter sweet, in a way.

  Goliath had been out for a meeting with Razor and receiving his duties, which he would not share the specifics with me even though I asked. It was late afternoon when he returned. I was sitting in the kitchen, singing along with the song playing on the radio. The song, Down by Mat Kearney, had become one of my favorites.

  When I heard him enter, I turned and saw him staring at me, as if he’d seen a ghost.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked him, while standing up to go to him. “Are you alright?”

  “You know this song?” he asked. “You listen to this station?”

  “Uh yeah,” I answered. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

  “Nothing, uh, this is my favorite song.”

  “Oh,” I laughed. “Yeah, it’s mine too. Some guy a while ago called up to the radio station and was telling his story and I swear it broke my heart. He was depressed and had come from the war and was withdrawn and everything. But he said that song helped him make it through and a lot of guys over there in the war listened to this station. I mean, I don’t even know why, but it broke my heart. I don’t ever cry, you know. But the hurt in his voice was just so…real, I guess. Does that make sense?” I asked, but not really looking for an answer.

  “Anyway, a couple of months ago, another guy or the same guy wrote in and requested the song and once again, I started crying. This time, the guy was saying that he lost the love of his life and it just seemed like his life was going down. Then the words of the song…Anyway, I started crying again. I’m not sure if I could blame that on my pregnancy hormones but I’ve been there. You know? At one point in my life, I was so overwhelmed and going down emotionally, physically and mentally, that I had contemplated suicide.”

  My eyes started to water as I recalled the moment.

  “I stood in my mirror and stared at myself for hours. The bags under my eyes, the intense pressure that clouded how I lived my life, and I even started to take prescription drugs to keep going. I was working eighteen hour days, popping pills to stay awake and ahead of the game and saw my life going down.” I wiped the tears running down my face as Goliath watched me. “I was not winning and I had given up everything to win. I realized I wanted to give it all up. I wanted to pull myself back up because I was sinking at a fast-pace, despite what my bank account looked like. Money did not buy happiness, it brought grief, so to hear that man’s pain; reminded me of the pain I went through.”

  When I looked back up, Goliath’s face was red and it looked as if he was holding in his breath.

  “Are you okay?” I moved towards him at the same time, he rushed towards me.

  He pulled me against him in a python grip and buried his face in my hair that rested on my shoulders.

  Oh God.

  He was crying.

  Crying for me?

  “Goliath,” I called as I rubbed his back. “It’s okay. I’m fine now.”

  He stayed there for a bit more until he finally lifted his head, so his mouth was to my ear.

  “I was the man that called in. I called and I emailed them to play the song. I was down, Phoebe. Fucking lost and drowning. Hearing the words to the song, reminded me that others were down to and we all wanted the same thing. Forgiveness, acceptance, acknowledgements, help and someone to see us. Save us. I called and wanted to hear the song, to learn the words, and let them be imprinted within me. It was me.”

  My arms pushed him away as I gasped, “It was you?”

  He nodded; face wet with tears and red with emotion.

  “Oh my God. It was you, the entire time. I heard you both times.” My heart was beating faster because I could not believe the chances.

  “I always knew you were for me. Knew I needed you, but I never knew how destined we were to be together.” Goliath shook his head in shock as well.

  “Yes,” I whimpered as the tears started to slide down my face again. “I can’t believe both times I heard you, and I don’t even listen that much.”

  “I was crying out for help and I know God heard me because He sent you to me.”

  Goliath pulled me back into him and we stayed that way as the song continued to play.

  The hope, the fear, the love, the faith

  Who would have thought, he and I shared that? I called myself trying to get to know a new reclusive neighbor by plotting to ambush the man using the ‘I cooked fish’ and needed to take out the trash excuse. Come to find out, this is the same man whose story moved me to tears. Twice.

  WOW.

  That night, we talked and talked and talked. He shared more about his depression and thoughts about wanting to go back to the war because he didn’t belong back in the states. I told him more about how and why I left and how much living a life of freedom was my therapy; the garden, the jewelry, the small town with no worries. It was my escape and I needed that because I’d never let myself get down like that anymore. I wanted to be happy and I made sure that I was on purpose. It’s a daily mantra of mine, to live free and be happy. Goliath laughed because he said for a good month, he thought I was bat-shit crazy or just a little too happy. I told him that I thought he was Oscar, the grouch.

  He admitted that he was.

  * * *

  My father had heard enough of me talking about Goliath, he wanted to meet him, like yesterday. I set it up, so we could go visit him in Chicago. I was all about driving there but Goliath was having none of that. Therefore, he bought us two plane tickets and we stayed in a hotel. I tried to explain that I made jewelry for a living but he just looked at me and asked, “So, if I have something, it's not yours as well?”

  There was no answer I was comfortable enough to say, so I kept my mouth shut. The same went for when my father scolded me when I told him I wanted to drive to Chicago. He said that's what real men do; take care of their woman and put them first.

  Point one for Goliath.

  Then there was the day we went out to eat and Goliath picked up the tab for the table when my father went to the restroom. I told him not to do it because my dad would be upset but he didn't care, and to my surprise, my father thumped him on the back and said, “I like his style.”

  So I stopped trying to tell Goliath what to do because when it came to men, he was the real deal and my dad recognized that trait.

  We only stayed for a few days and the two men in my life had many a conversation without me. Mostly because I was lying down resting or pretending to be so I could watch them bond. My dad seemed genuinely happy and pleased. This was confirmed when he said as we were leaving, “You did well, Pheebs. Thought you were nuts going half-cocked out of state, but you did well.”

  We hugged for a long time and then instead of going back home, Goliath booked a flight to meet his parents.

  That was a surprise because he was always so closed off about them. I thought they were aliens from another planet or something.

  As soon as we walked through the doors, his father grabbed him and his mother grabbed me and started crying again. She kept thanking me for helping her only child and expressing how glad she was that I was patient with him.

  Goliath’s father had to pry his wife off of me. Then she grabbed her son with the python grip and shed more tears.

  When we finally sat down for dinner and talked, I realized why he didn't want me around them.

  “Phoebe, I'm so glad you were able to make it here. We know with Goliath’s therapy sessions and all, it could be tough to travel,” his father said.

  “Honey, you're keeping up on your sessions, right?” his mom asked.

  “Yes,” Goliath sighed as he pushed around his food on the plate. “Can we not have this discussion at the table?”

  “Honey, there's nothing to be afraid or ashamed of. There are many veterans that go to therapy. Some have been mandated.” His
mother continued to press on, even when he expressed discomfort about the topic.

  “It's a common thing,” his father added. “Got to be comfortable discussing shit like this. We’re an open family. If you were gay we'd talk about it openly. We’re not ashamed. Just glad you're not wasting your life away and not getting the help you need. We love you son and that's what this is all about.”

  Oh boy. These people didn't know how to drop it.

  “It's okay, honey.” His mom was about to continue.

  “Mom,” Goliath growled. “Stop.”

  “Son,” his father warned. “We’re just happy for you, and Phoebe understands what you're going through and supports that. Right?”

  He turned to look to me for help.

  “Well, I understand it but it's not the topic of discussion in our house. He's Goliath and I'm Phoebe and we work.” I smiled. “We don't do definitions and classifications. We’re just who we are. We acknowledge that and we give each other what we need. Period.”

  Goliath turned to me and reached for my hand. I met him so he could give me the squeeze I knew was coming.

  “Thanks,” he mouthed.

  I nodded my head and his mom said, “Well, good. I’m just happy to bits that my son is back.”

  His father nodded and the rest of our trip was flawless.

  Well, almost.

  On our last day, I was super tired from the day before and decided to sleep in some. When my eyes opened, I saw Goliath’s messy, dark hair because his head was face-down in the mattress while his knees were on the floor.

  “Goliath?” I muttered with a raspy voice.

  He looked up and the man’s eyes were red.

  “You alright?” I asked as I slid towards him.

  “Yeah, baby.” He nodded and smiled. “I'm perfect.”

  Then he grabbed my hand and said, “Got to ask you something, though.”

  “What?” My whole body was tense because only once did I see him have tears or remotely be on the edge of showing emotion besides when he was about to lose his cool. “You're scaring me, Goliath. What's wrong?”

 

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