by K. S. Adkins
Jules is a cool cat. No matter the situation, she keeps not just herself chill, but the rest of us. She’s kept all of our asses alive for years. All the guys love her, but I love her the most. I also know her the best, and though we ain’t all hearts and flowers, seeing her like she was tonight has me driving over to pay that asshole a visit. A long overdue visit.
This whole thing ain’t sitting right, and I want fucking answers. If I got to beat him to do it, I got no problems with that either.
Because of what we do, the shit we see, and the nightmares that come with it, none of us have ever settled. No kids, no house, no nothin’. Our unit is solid, but outside of us ain’t no one ever gonna miss us if we’re gone. All these years, though, someone had her heart, and we didn’t know. I’d be pissed if I thought it’d help, but it won’t. I don’t know this guy, but his actions ain’t one of a guy who ain’t in love. Even I know that much. Alcohol may have given her the means to say what was hurting her, but I swear to god, I never knew she hurt like that. She’s beyond destroyed, she’s damn near broken, and that ain’t the Boss I know. She’s right, though; love can do some serious damage.
Rolling up to his house, I see only one car, which is good for him. If he had a female here we’d be having two body bags instead of one. Banging on the door with both of my fists, he opens it, and doesn’t look surprised to see me at all. Not sparing him a word, I walk in and punch the prick right in the mouth. Gotta give him credit, though; he didn’t say a word or swing back. Instead, he offers me a beer. Following him to the kitchen, he pulls out a chair, and I take it.
“Feel better? he asks, spitting in the sink then taking the seat across from me.
“No,” I answer. “You got three seconds to come clean before I leave you on the floor, and I won’t hold back on account of her anymore.”
“I don’t owe you or her anything,” he says, taking a swig. “That being said, you can go now.”
“You care for her at all?” I ask, and when he winces I know I am right.
“Not your business, Bishop.”
“I’m makin’ it my business, Max,” I say, leaning forward. “Wanna know why?”
“No.”
“Glad you asked. Could be because she’s passed out drunk with a puke basket, and could also be because she’s so fucked up about it she went down to county and filed. Ain’t she somethin’? Even with a broken heart she was giving you exactly what you asked for. Get your papers yet?”
“She filed? For divorce?”
“You thought she’d sit and wait for you to hurt her more than you already have? Then you don’t know the Red I know. So who’s idea was it to crush her, yours or Duffy’s?”
“She went down to county? By herself? When?”
“You ain’t listening to my words, Max,” I interrupt. “Who’s idea was it?”
“Mine,” he says, closing his eyes. “But he said she deserved to have a life, and he was right. This is my mess; I should be cleaning it up, not her.”
“Maybe he was, but it wasn’t his decision, asshole. You gave your club to the DJ? I don’t think you have any idea what hearing that did to her. What was she fighting for, then? She came here for you. You ain’t the man I thought you were. Shit happens, and you fucking bail on her? You told her you had a bitch on the side and being married to her was a mistake? She put the job she loves on the line to save your sorry ass. A job she only took, mind you, to save your sorry ass. The part that got me, though? You called her trash. Thing is, I don’t believe you meant it, but you did it anyway. Hurting her to protect her is fucking ignorant. This visit is your official warning.”
“Warning for what exactly?”
“Stay the fuck away from her,” I growl. “When this shit is over and you start rethinkin’ your decision and wantin’ her back, you ain’t gettin’ her back, and if I gotta kill you to keep her from crying, I will. Since the day I met her she’s put everyone else first, including me. Before she passed out in my lap, she told me just once she wanted to come first. She wanted you to choose her. When I gotta hear the strongest fucking woman ever born look at me and say she wanted to be your reason for waking up. I’m not his reason for anything, except standing in his way. If I’m not his wife anymore, who am I? Yeah, I can tell by your jaw cracking you don’t like that much. Try being her; she doesn’t think there’s a her without you. I intend to rectify that. So now you got my warning. You’re on your own with your pussy bullshit. I’m takin’ her back home and if it’s the last thing I do; I’ll find someone else to make her light up. Cuz that privilege don’t belong to a piece of shit civvie like you. Speaking of Duffy, you remember him, right? Did I not tell you he’s been in love with her forever? Sorry, my man, but you got played again. This one you did all yourself, too. I remember telling you calling Duffy would be dumb.”
When his face turns different shades of red I know I hit my mark. Sitting back and crossing my ankles, I wait for it. Sipping on my light beer (which is disgusting; light beer is for civvies), I watch him get up and start pacing. He is thinking hard about something, and I got a feeling that the explosion brewing is going to be huge and entertaining.
I ain’t disappointed.
Watching this guy lose it is better than Pay-Per-View.
“She’s back in DC,” he says, sending me her new address. “This new place is much safer than the last one.”
“Thanks, Tony”
“When are you leaving?”
“I’m not”
“You’re not?”
“No”
“Why am I even doing any of this if you don’t have plans to get her back?”
“I just want to know she’s safe.”
“She is safe, Max,” he says. “But she won’t be yours for much longer if you don’t do something.”
“What’s his name?”
“I don’t have a name, but they do everything together,” he informs me. “Maybe you should check it out?”
Two days later I am standing outside of her apartment building. The rest of that day is spent following her while she has coffee, reads a book, and then meets up with him. They don’t touch or do anything to suggest it is more than what I see, but he searches the crowd looking for a threat and always keeps her within arms distance. When he opens the door for her to enter the market she stops, whips around, and makes eye contact.
Frozen in place I can only return her stare. Suddenly she blinks, shakes her head, and her face falls. Retreating into the shadows, I watch the man put his arms around her and walk her in. Five hours later I’m back in Detroit and I never go to DC again.
My head is spinning so much that I can hardly see straight. Duffy wants my wife? She filed for divorce? Duffy wants my wife? She’s leaving me? Duffy wants my fucking wife? Grabbing onto the counter top and dropping my head, I struggle for breath. I was trying to keep her safe. I’d do anything to keep her safe, but I never thought doing the right thing could hurt like this. Looking at my white knuckles, I tell Bishop the truth, knowing he’ll never tell her, but needing him to know just the same.
“The second she climbed on my bike I fell for her. I’d never felt anything like it before. She asked me to drop her at a corner, but I followed her on foot. She didn’t want me to see where she lived. I didn’t care that she didn’t have money. I just wanted her. She didn’t care about my money, either; she just wanted me. All these years I just wanted her with me, but circumstances kept us apart.”
“Bullshit,” he argues. “Your bastard of a father kept you two apart, and you allowed it.”
“Yes,” I agree. “But I saw her every chance I could. I just needed more time to get everything in place, but then bad shit started happening, and then she showed up. I didn’t know what Hank was doing; I never knew he was sending men to fuck with her. Had I known I would have—”
“You wouldn’t have done shit, Max,” he says. “Because you never do shit about anything. You take the easy way out. Hell, I don’t even know you, and I see it. Y
ou hate conflict, so you punk out instead of manning up. Your old man sent thugs after your wife. They put their hands on her, asshole. Know what she did? To spare you she sent them back alive. The Red I know wouldn’t do that for nobody. I know that because she’s killed for me and every man in our unit.”
“I said I didn’t fucking know!”
“So? Now you do know, and you still ain’t doing shit. You can’t take on your old man alone. She knew that, and fuck, I know that. You, though? Until she took the time to teach you, you couldn’t have kicked your own ass. She’s kept an eye on him for years while you got to live in the clouds worried about just you. You ain’t got no idea what your old man is capable of. Guess you’ll find out soon enough, though, since none of us are allowing her to help you anymore.”
“When is she leaving?”
“Why?”
“Because I—”
Standing up, he sets his beer down and gets ready to leave. “Ain’t your business anymore, my man. Besides, one man’s trash is another’s man’s treasure, so she won’t be lonely for long.”
Charging him, I grab ahold of his shirt, tossing him from the kitchen to the living room. When he laughs and takes a swing I dodge it, barely.
“Call her trash again and I’ll fucking beat you to death.”
After he lands a blow to my ribs I bend over trying to get air when he gets in my face. “Trash ain’t a bad thing where I come from, cockfucker,” he says, knocking me down. “I’m trash, I know it. You can’t help who the fuck you got stuck with, but she knows who she is, and the days of you using who she is to hurt her are over. Hell, look at who you call daddy, and she ain’t never judged you for it. No way am I ever watching her suffer like that again. I ain’t ever gonna listen to her freestyle over you again. It’s that bad.”
“She’s mine,” I growl, regaining my full height.
“Naw, man, she really ain’t,” he says, laughing. I charge him again, and the next several minutes are spent kicking the shit out of each other, until Rafe walks in.
“I’ll get her back,” she says firmly. “I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”
“Promise me,” I beg her. “Promise me you’ll find her.”
“I promise I will find her, Rafe,” she says calmly. “And when I do, you promise me that you will do whatever it takes to protect her.”
She kept her promise, and I tried keeping mine. When I got to that fucker’s house I don’t know what I expected to find, but my wife with a hammer wasn’t one of them. Just when I thought she was safe another threat appeared, and I didn’t protect her from that, either. The loss is still raw for us, but without Jules, I wouldn’t have Macy at all. I owe Jules a debt.
The first time I met Jules, I knew she was not a female to fuck with. Sure, she was sweet and smiled sometimes, but she carried herself like a warrior. Jules had seen some things and it showed. She got me to my wife when it counted. She set me straight, and I can never repay her for what she did for us. Ain’t no perfect man, I’m proof of that, but I gotta say I’m disappointed in Max. Love makes people do weird shit; I’m proof of that, too, so that’s why leaving Jules drunk and hurting at the MGM felt wrong.
When we got home Macy told me, “Go over to Max’s and get answers. If he won’t give them to you willingly, beat them out of him.”
What my Princess wants, my Princess gets.
Venessa told me Max gave her the club. That didn’t seem right, either. Why give her the club then tell Jules he wanted a divorce? All I know is I saw the pain Jules was feeling when she called in her favor to pick her up, and I saw it again when the girls were trying to talk her down. Bottom line, I don’t like seeing Jules hurt at all. She did us all a solid when she put her shit on the line to help. I saw the look on his face when he couldn’t find her, and I felt his fury when she was attacked, twice. Max ain’t a guy who shares his feelings, so I’m all sorts of confused as to what the hell is going on. I ain’t the brightest, but I do know one thing:
Max fucked up.
Jogging up the steps, I can hear a battle royale taking place in the house. If I hate anything, it’s not being invited to the party. Opening the door I see Bishop going Superfly Snuka on his ass. Then I find myself bummed I left my phone in the car. Macy would have loved this shit.
“When you two are done feeling each other up, can I get a turn?” When they both stop and stare at me I decide to keep going, because fuck you, this is funny. “What? You’d rather make it a threesome? I’m sure Princess wouldn’t mind this one time. But I think for my first time I need to be on the bottom.”
Bending at the knees and catching his breath, Max grates out, “Where’s Rogan?”
“He’ll be here soon; had to take care of Boner first.”
“His dick is more important than Red?” asks Bishop, moving slowly toward the chair. Ah, so Max got in a few too, good for him. Then again, the guy is recovering from two bullet wounds, but what the fuck do I know?
“It sounds that way, doesn’t it? Boner wears out easily, being small and shit. But hey, don’t stop on my account, seriously. As you were.”
“Boner’s a dog,” he says, looking at Bishop, then looking back at me “What do you want, Rafe?”
Before I can answer my partner walks in and speaks for me. (which let me tell you is a bitch to get used to) “Answers,” he says, standing next to me crossing his arms over his chest. Yeah, it’s even scarier in person.
Surprisingly enough, Max did give us answers, and we didn’t like them one fucking bit. Turns out our boy Max has made some serious mistakes. I can relate some, but even I wasn’t this much of a dick. You’d think him being older would mean he’s wiser, but nope. He’s a fucking idiot. Looking at him, seeing him miserable, doesn’t make me feel sorry for him even a little bit, because I saw what his actions did to her. Princess judges me by actions and not words for good reason, so after the clusterfuck he made of his marriage, I don’t blame Jules for getting piss drunk. I’m just surprised she didn’t kill him; I would have.
While Bishop was busy icing his knuckles Duffy walked in and the Max I knew disappeared. The new and improved Max 2.0 went berserk on Duffy, forcing Bishop, Rogan, and me to pull him off.
Bishop looked slightly guilty, Duffy pissed but confused, and we couldn’t stop smiling.
I mean for real, I like this Max. You can never have too much crazy around here. Now if he could just harness his crazy for good and not stupid, he’d have his woman back.
There’s a knock on my door, but it’s a holiday weekend. Bishop is off on a mission which baffles me as to who it could be. Throwing on a robe, I open the door and it’s him. Leaning into the door, looking casual and beautiful. he smiles at me.
“Happy birthday, Blue,” he says, and no sooner does he say it, I’m in his arms. “You came,” I whisper with tears in my throat. “You remembered.”
“How should we celebrate?”
“In bed, on the couch, in the hall,” I whisper, kissing him all over. “Or here in the doorway works, too.”
“Invite me in, Blue,” he growls, nipping at my bottom lip.
“Come inside, Max.”
We spent that day in all the places I mentioned, and even made it out to my patio. He made me a cake with candles, he sang to me, and we fell asleep in a tangle of arms and legs. Waking him up with my hands we reconnected the next morning, too. That weekend my faith in our marriage was renewed. The distance wouldn’t be forever, it was temporary, and proof our love was everlasting. We could do this; Max and I could do anything.
My mouth tastes like a hamster died in it. Why do people drink again? Oh, that’s right… because they’re idiots. Crawling to the bathroom I manage to turn on the shower, barely. Once I crawl in I let the water soak me, I am not even opposed to drowning. God bless the darkness right now because my head is killing me. Turning my head and opening my mouth to rinse it out, I realize I haven’t felt this shitty since… well, ever. Crawling out I brush my teeth, wrap myself in a tow
el, and head back out to my bed to die alone. Where is Bishop? What time is it? Who the fuck is in my room?
“Beautiful,” he says, and I whip around then lose my footing because I’m still drunk.
“Jesus, Duffy, you like living on the edge, don’t you?”
“Probably,” he says, turning the lamp and pulling back my covers, signaling for me to come and lie down. “But I like seeing you in a towel better.”
Once I can focus I narrow my eyes to his face. Both of his faces. “What attacked your face?”
“You mean who?” he asks, and when I don’t answer he does. “This would be courtesy of Max.”
“Max did that to you?” I ask, skeptical. “Mind telling me how?”
“You said you were training him, but fuck, is he a fast learner. The guy hits like a sledgehammer. I haven’t been cocked that hard in years. I could almost respect the guy if he had any clue how fucking strong he was.”
“Duffy, I’m dying right now. Put me out of my misery and tell me what happened so I can pass back out like a big girl.”
“I might have encouraged him to cut you loose,” he starts. “He called me wanting to help; told him he could help most by letting you go.”
When I stay silent he crawls in next to me and brushes my hair out with his fingers. “I probably owe you an apology, Red. When you said you loved him, I didn’t think you could love anyone that much. If my face and Bishop’s is anything to go by, Max didn’t like to be played.”
“He’s been played his whole life,” I whisper closing my eyes. “By now, I thought he’d have learned.”
“He knows he fucked up, Red,” he whispers back. “I fucked up, too; here to say I’m sorry and I’ll do what needs to be done.”
“Nothing left to do,” I say, dosing. “I filed for divorce. I’m booking our flights tomorrow, and we’ll be gone after that.”
“I think we should stay.”