8 Mile & Rion

by K. S. Adkins

  Still ignoring him he keeps yapping. “Hope it’s cool I had her bail your ass out. She was all fucked up about thinking you were a no show. Heard the judge let you go, but if you ever get to see her in court for real, prepare to get your god damn mind blown.”

  “Why’d she quit if she’s so good?”

  “She only went to school because Senior wanted her to. She’d be happy taking bets for the rest of her life; she’s that good at it. But the only thing she loved more than betting was making him proud. Thing is, she dedicated her life to making him happy. Junior wanted what Senior wanted. He didn’t want this life for her. She knew that and did it for him. For me too, I guess. She’s had to defend me once or twice over the years.”

  “I lost my shit earlier out on the field,” I confess. “She brought me back.”

  “She’s good like that,” he says smiling, then frowns. “You break her heart I’ll kill you, Loyal. Not trying to sound hard, but it’s true. I would probably have to use a rocket launcher or some shit, but one way or the other you would die. I love her, she’s all I got, best remember that. She’s had enough loss for one female. She’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy but don’t take that shit for granted. You best do what it takes to make her happy too or bail now. I’ve never seen her like this with anyone and I don’t like it. For some reason she thinks you’re special. Best make sure she knows you think she’s special too.”

  With that said, he got up and left. Taking a seat at the table I have to seriously ask myself if I have what it takes to get over the shit with Jill to have a real go at this with her. But when she walks in and lights up when she sees me, I realize that even though I don’t have a definite answer, I was willing to risk it.

  “You made me a salad?”

  “You need to eat, don’t you?”

  “I don’t skip meals,” she giggles grabbing the plate.

  “You shouldn’t,” I tell her watching as she takes her first bite “You’re too small as it is.”

  “Too small? Maybe. But I’m sturdy.”

  The comment did not go unnoticed by my dick. “I could hurt you,” I remind her. “I told you I came back wrong. Be damn sure you’re ready for me because I won’t hold back with you. I don’t know how.”

  Pushing her plate away after a quick bite, she stands up taking my hand. “Oh baby,” she says, pulling me towards her room. “I was hoping you would say that.”

  Then with all of the finesse of a high school kid getting his first lay, I tripped over myself following her.

  ‘The hardest tumble a man can make is to fall over his own bluff.’

  ~ Ambrose Bierce

  When you take bets for a living you get good at bullshitting. I was so full of shit right now it wasn’t even funny. I want him, of that there is no doubt, but I’m not nearly as brave as I’m pretending to be. Loyal is a big man, a strong man and as much as I don’t want him to go easy on me, I don’t know what to do in the event that he doesn’t. The few partners I had were safe. I thought safe was the way to go, but watching him morph into a hungry man because of me, I knew that safe was cowardly. I wanted this. I wanted it raw, dirty and often. He’d give that to me in spades. I knew it and so did my vagina.

  So when he took his shirt off, I bit my lip and my hands got itchy. I wanted me some of that. “Do you work out?” I ask without thinking, then slap myself mentally for saying something so stupid.

  “No,” he says in a low voice as he approaches, “but I’m about to.”

  “Oh,” I mumble, feeling uncertain of what comes next. The first time I came onto him I felt confident. But after that nightmare ending I wasn’t as confident as I should be.

  “You afraid of me?” he asks placing my hair behind my ear.

  “No,” I whisper, hugging him. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “I need control of you, Rion,” he groans. “Tell me I can have it.”

  “You can have it.”

  “Lay down.”

  Breaking away from him, I crawl onto the bed and stretch out onto my back. He watches but doesn’t move. “Loyal?”

  “Spread your legs,” he orders me after a moment and slowly I do. When his hands ball into fists, I know he’s as affected as I am. Almost as if he’s unsure, he closes his eyes and groans. “Touch yourself.” Slowly moving my hands between my legs, I do that too. I wasn’t sure exactly in what manner he wanted to do it so I started out by making circles. Then he cupped himself and groaned and any shyness I had, fled.

  “Feel good?” he asks me.

  “No,” I moan quietly.

  “No?” he asks looking confused.

  “No,” I repeat. “I want you to do it.”

  Dropping his hands, he lowers his jeans and boxers then crawls up to me. Pulling me under him I can feel his breath on my face, but he doesn’t move otherwise. Then seeming to make a decision, he places his forearm behind my back to hold me up and uses the other to bend my head back. This was a different Loyal, a more confident Loyal. He was engaging in something out of his comfort zone and this was huge for both of us. He was asking me to trust him and I was. Despite our brief history, I already trusted him with my life. Now I would take it one step further and trust him with my body. Melting into him I watch as he kisses my ear, my neck and then down the front of my chest, until he takes a nipple into his mouth.

  “Better?”

  “Mhmm,” I moan. “Much better.”

  Minutes pass as he pays attention to every part of me with his lips. Panting, I try over and over to move my arms, but he won’t allow it. Finally giving up, I trust him to guide me. Taking his left hand he slides his fingers through my folds but doesn’t penetrate me or tease my clit. Even that small amount of contact felt amazing.

  “Wet,” he says in what sounded like disbelief. Then his demeanor changes. Suddenly his arm is gone, I’m on my back with my legs spread and him in between them. “Wider,” he orders and I try, but find I’ve reached my limit. Wrapping them around him as best I could, I use my heels to bring him closer. I need this, now.

  “Please,” I whisper, “I hurt, Loyal.”

  He does this manly growl like what I said was what he was waiting for, then without warning, he plunges. Shocked by it, the fullness and the force of it, I grip his sides in an effort to control the pace. With his shoulders pinning my arms, I could only squeeze his sides letting him know I was with him. Pinning me even harder, he pounds into me with such strength my legs burn trying to hold on. He felt just like I thought he would, but I want more, something was missing. Minutes pass and he continues to fuck me in total silence. No kissing, touching, moans, grunts and no words of praise.

  Why was he so quiet? Was he enjoying himself? Dammit, I wanted to hear him. “Loyal,” I say gripping him, “are you with me?”

  “Yeah,” he says continuing the same movement with no technique whatsoever. It’s in out, in out. I feel myself losing my nerve. Is he thinking of her? Why won’t he look at me? Move around? Talk to me?

  “Can I try something?” I ask, unsure of what his response will be. Right now it seems like the idea of sex intrigues him but not the actual act. He’s treating this, me, like a job.

  Slowing down he asks slowly, “Try what?”

  “Let me flip over,” I suggest, hoping the position would allow him to let loose a little.

  “On your hands and knees?” he asks stopping altogether. “Like a whore?”

  “What?” I ask shocked he said the words. “I’m not a whore!”

  Pulling out of me, then climbing off the bed I see he’s already limp and getting dressed. Feeling very vulnerable and righteously pissed, I pull the covers up. “You sure about that?” he throws at me. “Pretty sure that’s what whore’s do.”

  “I—I—”

  “You what? You want to be fucked like a whore but can’t be called one?”

  Jumping out of bed, modesty forgotten and grabbing my own clothes, I push past him to leave. “You’re an asshole and I have work to do.�
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  Stowing the tears for later, I slam one door and rip open another. Fuck him and his issues. I’m a lot of things but I am not a whore. According to him Jill was a whore. In fact, instead of her name he just calls her the whore. Now I’m a whore too. My guess is to him all women are whores. Yeah well, he’s a fucking dick and trusting him was a mistake.

  Turning on my lap top and grabbing the checkbook I set about paying Rio, Loyal and the two cops what they’re due. The cops need to step up their game though because Loyal was just behind Rio in collections for the week. Reaching into my top drawer for my signature stamp for the checks it’s when I see recent pictures of myself with a handwritten note, I start shaking violently.

  I’ve seen you before, I’ve seen you quite often.

  You were promised to me for a bet forgotten.

  Nothing is given, nothing is free.

  Because of one deal you’re now my property.

  What the fuck? Flying out of my chair, I look around for a threat in the shadows but I don’t see one. Picking up the phone I dial one number. When the one man I do trust answers, I keep it simple. “Get here.”

  Five minutes later he was there and when he came through that door, I launched myself at him and refused to let go.

  ‘You have to recognize your mistakes, own them and pay the consequences. If that doesn’t work then keep doing it until you get it right.’

  ~Mrs. Davis tenth grade high school counselor

  Packing up my shit, I sat down to write her a note then a few words in, tossed it. I can’t apologize in a fucking note. I also can’t keep doing shit like this. Especially, not to her. When I was inside of her I was fighting with myself to stay focused, be gentle, make it good for her and I couldn’t even manage that. Old habits are hard to break. All I could hear was don’t touch me there, that’s dirty, a lady doesn’t do that and do you have to be so loud and disgusting? I could feel her struggling to free her hands and as much as I wanted them on me, I was afraid of it. There was no apologizing for this. I broke her trust and said cruel things.

  The woman trusted me with her body and I called her a whore. A good man doesn’t do shit like that. Bottom line is, it’s time for me to go.

  Walking across the hall to say goodbye in person when I open the door and see her wrapped around Rio, I snap. Without a thought, without assessing the situation I grab him and tear him away from her. He comes up swinging and I was prepared for it and return his jab with my own. The two of us are at war in her office but it’s when we crash into her and send her to the floor that we both stop dead.

  “Junior!” he yells reaching for her before I could.

  “I’m fine,” she growls moving away and that’s when I see the tears. Making a move toward her she retreats, obviously not wanting me close to her.

  “You crying because of me?” I ask.

  “You would think so, wouldn’t you?” she says sitting back behind her desk. “But no, Loyal the credit for this doesn’t belong to you. Better luck next time.”

  “Why would she be crying over you?” Rio asks, ready for round two.

  “Because I---“

  “Because he’s incapable of being nice,” she says, dismissing me. “It’s fine Rio, can we deal with the issue at hand please?”

  “What issue?”

  “The one where some fucking prick left this in her god damn office drawer,” he says, tossing me a stack of photos and a letter.

  Reading the letter first then looking at the photos, I put it all in my back pocket, stow the rage and approach her. “Were you gonna tell me?”

  “I can think of a lot of things I could tell you, Loyal, but this wasn’t one of them. Looks like you’re leaving again. Don’t let me stop you.”

  All plans of leaving fled when I opened the door. I was going to have to change and I knew it needed to start with keeping my shit together. “Wasn’t leaving,” I tell her. “I was going to crash at your dad’s place to give you some space and show you I could change for you.”

  “You shouldn’t have to change for me,” she says while Rio watches us like a tennis match. “You should want to change for you.”

  “Doing this for you,” I tell her. “I’ll show you and if I don’t change for the better, I need you to cut me loose because, I won’t leave unless you tell me to.”

  “Are you still going to protect me?”

  “Fuck yeah, I am.”

  “Fine,” she says leaving her office. “Then you can do it from my place. Oh and Rio, give the cops paid time off. I cut their checks. I’ll cut two more tomorrow. The less people involved in this, the better. You two bury the hatchet. I’m going to bed after I shower this testosterone off my skin.”

  Just like that, she walked out and I’m left with Rio when it was her I wanted to follow. “Something you want to tell me?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Said something I shouldn’t have, didn’t mean to. Just happened. Won’t happen again, I’ll make sure it don’t.”

  “You need help, Loyal,” he says, scrolling through his phone. “I’m sending you a phone number. Do yourself a favor and call it. He helped me out; I’m thinking he could help you too. Fuck knows you’re gonna need it.”

  Then he left and my phone pinged showing me the number to a therapist. Punching in the numbers I made the call, left a message and then an hour later sat in the chair across from her bed content to watch her sleep. Someone was going to take her and if the mother fucker ever got to her, this fucking city wouldn’t know what hit it. The destruction I would cause on this woman’s behalf would be legendary.

  I needed my head straight for the battle to come.

  ‘If the core of a man calls to you, answer it.’

  ~Senior Reynolds

  The next two weeks were fucking weird. Loyal was…changing. When he wasn’t collecting he had ‘errands’ to run and he ran them often. When he wasn’t doing that he was complimenting me, cooking for me and watching with me hope and hunger. I’ll be damned if I knew which one was hardest on me. Every night he stays in my room until about five am when he takes the couch. At five-thirty, I cover him up and go back to sleep until seven. By seven-fifteen he’s showered and making breakfast. This is our routine and we haven’t kissed, touched or been intimate since the whore comment. I didn’t understand the switch because all the domestic stuff felt more intimate to me. But really, what did I know? Not much and at the moment I was too busy getting us back on our feet to dissect it.

  Today my morning was packed with bets. Between Loyal and Rio our numbers are looking better and a few days ago the buyer for my car showed up and that money made it a little easier to sleep. The only comical part was that Loyal looked like he was going to cry when the guy drove off in it. Men and cars, I’ll never get it. We have a few big games going on and the problem with placing bets is that it’s not my job to ask them if they’re stupid but to take the damn bet. Bottom line though, people can be stupid. You need to pay attention, research, check your odds. But not many do and when they lose, they try to run, hence the collecting. The bulk of our clients are solid though. They come in and pay up and are patient when I pay out. So getting these delinquent debts paid will be a huge weight lifted. Until then, if Loyal is collecting, Rio is with me and if Rio is collecting, Loyal is with me.

  I’m always protected.

  Now that my books are full and Rio is doing his tally in the computer, I try and catch him off guard. Since the smackdown in my office those two have become friends and close ones at that. Like I said, weird. Girls don’t brawl then become besties. At least no girls I’ve ever hung with.

  “Where does Loyal go when he runs errands?” I ask, taking the seat next to Rio and staring him down.

  “Gotta ask him that, Junior.”

  “He’s not here so I’m asking you.”

  “He’s handling some shit,” he says avoiding eye contact. “Let him handle it.”

  “Is it because he thinks he came back wrong?”

>   Leveling me with a look I don’t see too often, Rio takes my hands in his and says, “No, it’s because he did come back wrong. If he wanted you to know he’s seeing a therapist right now, he’d tell you.”

  “Thanks Rio,” I say, kissing him on the cheek then reaching for my bag. “He wants to be better for you, Junior. If you’re going take a shot with him he’s going to need more than a few second chances, he’s going to need all of them.”

  “I know he’s a good man,” I whisper. “I wouldn’t be asking if he wasn’t.”

  “Junior,” he says, hugging me. “You have the biggest heart ever put into a body. I know you care about him, it’s not him I worry about. It’s you. He’s doing this to show you. I admire that, but you have to have a line. If he crosses it you have to be prepared to cut him loose just like he said. He could hurt you, he wouldn’t mean it, but that’s not the point. He’s got years of shit to work through. I just don’t want to see you suffering in the process.” Handing me the address, I stuff it in my pocket and head for my drawer.

  “I’m grabbing my gun and running my errand alone,” I tell him. “I’ll be back within the hour.”

  The therapist’s office was four blocks from my building. Walking quickly, saying hello to the locals I know and those I don’t, I make it to the building in twenty minutes then grab the bench out front. When he saw me it’s not like I could say gee I just happened to see this bench and since I was in the neighborhood… He’d know Rio told me. Thinking more on what Rio said, the fact was he’s already hurt me more than once is a gap between us. Right or wrong, I know he didn’t mean to do it, yet he won’t forgive himself for it. He’s getting help. A man without honor wouldn’t do that. I knew that in my gut.

  “What are you doing here?” he says and I jump about two feet in the air.