8 Mile & Rion

by K. S. Adkins

  “I don’t sound like that,” he says, coming around to my desk. Reaching for me he gently pulls me up, bends at the knees and lifts me into his arms.

  “Dammit Loyal,” I growl into his chest. “You don’t just walk out after hitting the floor and you certainly don’t---”

  Ushering me into the apartment and setting me down on the couch, he props the pillows for me then kneels in between my legs. “Shut up, Rion.”

  “You shut up! I wasn’t done.”

  “Got you one of them McMuffins everyone around here brags about,” he says, handing me a greasy bag from McDonalds.

  Reaching in, I clutched that McMuffin because they really are delicious. Stuffing it in my mouth, I swallow the first bite and my eyes rolled back. “Fis ith deewishus,” I mumble.

  “What?”

  Pointing at my mouth I repeat myself, “Fis ith deewishus.”

  “Yeah okay,” he says, watching me chew. “I need you to stop stuffing your face for a minute and listen.”

  Keeping the food in my cheeks, I don’t swallow I just let it sit there. When the drool starts to form because nothing’s happening I ask him, “Wooyal wus wrung?”

  “I wanted to ask you to marry me.”

  “Fay at aten.”

  “I can’t fucking believe I understand you right now,” he says reaching into his pocket.

  Wiping the drool from my mouth, then the wet from my eyes, I smile and like a complete idiot food falls out. “Forry.” I mumble.

  “Marry me, woman.”

  “Ofay.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Fats uh fuf---oh forry,” I try as food flies from my mouth into my lap. Spitting it into the napkin and swallowing what’s left, I look him in his eyes and whisper, “That’s a fuck yes.”

  “You done eating?”

  “Mhmm,” I whisper, leaning forward.

  “Give me your hand first,” he demands. Moving it slowly because of the sling, I watch as he places the band on my finger with the utmost care. “I’m going to make you a damned good husband.”

  “I know you will.”

  “Your old man would be proud.”

  “He would.”

  “You gonna give me babies?”

  “Can we get hitched first?” I ask, but then his face turns serious and I didn’t know what to do until he spoke.

  “I’m so full of love for you I can barely eat.”

  “Loyal,” I whisper.

  “That didn’t come out right,” he says running his hands over his head.

  “It was perfect. Look at me,” I order him. “When I’m with you I feel like I’m protected by an army, not one man. You are that powerful to me. I love you, especially when you say what you’re feeling.”

  “Loving you hurts, Rion. It’s a good hurt, I like it.”

  “Hey, Loyal?” I ask, crawling down into his lap.

  “Yeah?”

  “Just because we’re going to be equals doesn’t mean that I won’t toss a grenade at you if it comes down to you or me. I mean, it won’t be coming from a bad place or anything, but being a Marine doesn’t mean I’ll let you win. I have a reputation to uphold.”

  “You got a mean streak,” he says, tightening his grip. “You’d have made a helluva a Marine.”

  “Naw,” I mumble kissing his neck. “I’m marrying you. One warrior in the family is enough.”

  “I’m still your warrior?”

  “You’ll always be my warrior.”

  This time when he smiled it was the widest smile I have ever seen. It was a heart stopping smile and I was going to get to see it for the rest of my life. If both my arms worked I’d lift them and shout, Hoorah!

  ‘Wedding fever is one of the scariest diseases I have ever seen.’

  ~Jessica Valenti

  Even with her buying wedding magazines, I couldn’t stop smiling. I enjoyed it because she thought the shit on those pages was as ridiculous as I did. Five g’s for a dress you’re gonna wear once? Yeah, not her thing or mine. She asks my opinion but I tell her the same thing, you want it? Get it. Her showing up and saying yes is all I care about. Then there are those moments I can see her looking around for Senior, if he were here he’d be sitting right next to her helping her plan. My woman don’t need much, but if she wants it she’s damn sure gonna get it.

  These last few days though, I had to force myself not to smile just so she’d go out of her way to bring it back. Throw a frown out and she’s there kissing me, touching and tickling me. Fuck, but I love this little woman. In my life, I ain’t never been this happy. The only downer was she’s been calling Rio to share the news and he ain’t answering. So this morning I called his ass, threatened to kill him and hide the body if he didn’t call her back.

  Still no word. That prick isn’t nearly as intimidated by me as he should be.

  Tonight we’re heading over to My Dad’s Place so she can tell Old Man and the rest of his crew the news. Not gonna lie, these are good people. They love my woman and are straight with me too. First though, I gotta sit through a lunch with Tank and Shayla. Not sure how much I’m gonna smile through that shit, but for her I’ll figure it out. Pulling up to Blue Star Café, Shayla is the first to run out and greet us. Hugging Rion fiercely around the neck, she winks at me and punches my shoulder. Tank follows hot on her heels careful of her injury, but kissing her cheek instead.

  “We were worried as fuck,” Tank says, taking Shayla’s hand to guide her back in. I took Rion’s left hand and followed behind them. Once we were seated, Rion nibbles her lip which is her way of buying time to figure out what to say.

  “Spill it,” Shayla says.

  “It was Henry.” Was all Rion said and Tank got it. Closing his eyes, I watch as he grips his wife tighter.

  “Junior I’m---“

  “So Loyal and I are getting married,” she says, pointing to her finger because she can’t lift it. “The Henry shit is in the past, this guy is my future so you two are needed as witnesses if you’ve got the time.”

  “Oh uh,” Tank says, struggling with words.

  “Yay!” Shayla squeals as she bounces up and down in her seat.

  “Junior, we gotta talk about this.”

  “Loyal or Henry?”

  “Henry,” he mumbles. “I have no worries Loyal won’t treat you right. But at least tell me what happened.”

  “Oh that’s easy,” she says, taking my hand. “Loyal found me, saved me, the end.”

  “He dead?” he asks, looking at me.

  “No,” I tell him, “Prison.”

  “When’s the wedding?” Shayla asks.

  “I was hoping Rio could give me away, but I haven’t heard from him so…” she says sadly.

  “We got time,” I interject. “You two cool with the shit we need you to do?”

  “Yes,” they say in unison.

  Lunch was easy after that. The girls talked girl shit and we watched them talk girl shit waiting for them to run out of steam. Once that happened, we said our goodbyes and headed to the bar to meet up with Old Man. An hour later, we’re sitting at a table full of vet’s telling them the short version of what happened to Rion. But it was Old Man’s reaction that surprised me the most.

  “Prison’s good for him,” he says, sipping from his fresh beer. The man can drink his weight in ale, no bullshit. “Death would have been easy, hell we’ve all seen it enough to know that. Sometimes living with your mistakes is more painful than being relieved of them. Sometimes a man needs to suffer. Proud of you, Loyal. I’d have killed him; clearly you’re the better man.”

  Noticing my discomfort Rion leans over and speaks up. “Loyal demanded I marry him and I said yes.”

  “Good,” he says, kissing her cheek. “You can’t give a woman time to think, you have to tell her how it’s going to be.”

  “This isn’t the fifties anymore old man,” she says, sipping her own beer.

  “Fucking shame,” he says, winking at her. “Them were the golden years where a
woman knew her place.”

  “You are so full of shit,” she says, swatting his shoulder. “I expect you front, center and sober.”

  “Sober?” he sputters. “Why the hell would you do that to me?”

  Then quietly she looks to me then him before whispering, “Because I’d like you to give me away and I’d like you to remember it.”

  “Oh hell, Junior,” he says, hugging her tight. “I can do that. Yeah, for you, I can do that.”

  We settled in for a couple more hours of stories, jokes and a quick dinner before heading back home. Rion still tired easily and I wanted her home where she could rest without keeping her game face on. While she slept I played with her hard and listened to more of her music. Humming along and feeling content I realized for the first time since I was seven, I had a family again.

  ‘Sexual frustration is the mother of all fuckers.’

  ~Lina Tomek

  After days of calling and texting Rio with no response, I finally gave up. Out of the blue he called but kept it really brief which I felt was worse. He didn’t say goodbye, he didn’t share his location and I was pretty sure no matter how much I wished it, he wasn’t coming back. I was able to tell him that I loved and missed him, but I didn’t get the chance to tell him I’m getting married. I figured as far as hurt goes, I’ve done enough damage to Rio. I feel like I truly lost my best friend and it’s painful. Loyal keeps trying to tell me he’ll be back but I’m afraid to bet on it. Marrying Loyal can’t happen fast enough which was why I asked Old Man to give me away. Next to Senior, he’s always been a (drunken) father figure to me and I couldn’t wait in the hopes Rio would come back.

  Knowing Rio won’t be at my wedding broke a little something inside of me. There was no way to explain it other than to say I think he went back to stealing. I felt like absolute shit for assuming he would after all these years but the last fight we had, I could tell he was walking that line. For Rio to just vanish, well…

  Thing was, Rio used to run with this total dickbag Adrian Lennox. If it hadn’t been for Senior pulling in a favor Rio would still be in prison serving out his time. Instead, he took his second chance and stayed away from Adrian. Rio may have tried to forget his past but his past never forgot him. Back in the day, Rio could steal anything. I know for a fact Adrian has reached out to him over the years and that Rio always shot him down, for me.

  But now there isn’t even a me to keep him straight.

  “Wherever he is, he’s good,” Loyal says, reading my mind.

  “He’s too good,” I mumble. “If he gets caught, he’s going away for a long time.”

  “If he gets caught, it’s his own fucking fault.”

  “Touche,” I say, reaching for a blanket.

  He takes the blanket tossing it to the floor. “You cool with being Rion Hart tomorrow?”

  “Yep,” I say, smiling up at him. Now that one of his fears was laid to rest, we needed to work on another. “Undress me, Loyal.”

  “Christ,” he moans. “I don’t think it’s---”

  “I want premarital sex on this couch and I want it now,” I order him. “One more time, undress me.”

  When he starts to lose it, I know I’d made a bet I could win. I just had to raise the stakes a bit. My soon to be husband needed a reminder of how determined his fiancé was when she was horny.

  ‘Women are sneaky. You may think you got Junior figured out, but you don’t son. She was raised by men, that girl has the inside track.’

  ~Old Man

  Fuck.

  Yeah I want to undress her, but seeing his handy work fucks with me on a primal level. She keeps a bandage with ointment over the damage he caused hiding his name but I know it’s there. That shit taunts me, makes me wanna break shit when I think about it. Even helping her with the dressing sends me into a dark place and she’s constantly reassuring me it’s healing and that you can barely see it.

  The doc says the cuts were shallow and wouldn’t leave a scar but again, I saw it when it was fresh and bleeding. My woman wants me and I want her but this holds me back. When she scoots to the edge of the couch giving me that look, I swallow hard knowing she’s up to something.

  “If I strip myself, it takes all the fun out of it,” she says with a pout on her perfect face. “I’ll bet you two blow jobs and my MP7 that if you undress me you’ll like your surprise.”

  “What surprise?”

  “Get me naked and find out.”

  “I see what you’re doing,” I warn her, “you know I wanna wait until you’re healed.”

  “Yeah well my vagina isn’t broken, my arm is.”

  “Dammit, woman. You got an answer for everything.”

  “Of course, I do. I’m brilliant. Clothes. Off. Now.”

  Doing as she says, I unbutton her shirt slowly, careful of her shoulder and arm. When I get it off her shoulders and set it on the table, I can’t help that my eyes are drawn back to the bandages covering her chest. My breathing starts to get choppy, my hands start to sweat and…

  Wait, bandages?

  “The fuck happened?” I ask her, reaching forward. All thoughts of Honor forgotten. She’s got a new bandage, one I ain’t seen before.

  “Well, of all the things we’ve done together, this one was at least legal.” she says quietly. “Lina and I got an idea after my doctor appointment. She took me to her guy and…”

  “Guy? What fucking guy? I trusted her to take you to the doc and back while I was at therapy. Dammit, Rion the fuck is that bandage for?”

  “Peel it off,” she giggles, only I ain’t laughing.

  Starting with one edge, I tug slowly and watch as the table peels itself away from her skin. Starting on the second side, I repeat the process and when my jaw fucking drops the bottom of the bandage just hung there. I was too busy staring to finish the job.

  There it was a huge traditional red heart with Loyal above it, Hart below it with a banner in the middle that said My Warrior. When my breathing sped up and my heart starting beating faster, I told myself that her loving me was the best adrenaline rush a guy could ask for. Her love wasn’t just physical, that shit was emotional and it was more than I ever thought I’d get. I may not be a religious man but I knew I was blessed.

  “You love me.”

  “Yep,” she says, kissing me.

  “You’re marrying me.”

  “Yep.”

  “I wasn’t a gambling man until I met you, woman.”

  “Is that right?” she asks while I run my fingers around the outline.

  “Never had nothing to bet on,” I tell her. “Never had no collateral before either.”

  “Now you do?”

  “I’m the long shot,” I remind her. “Still can’t believe you bet on me.”

  “Pssh,” she says motioning me to get her pants off. “I told you, I don’t place bets I can lose. You weren’t a long shot, Loyal. I hate to tell you this, but you were pretty much a sure thing.”

  Running my fingers between her legs, her head falls back and I clutch the back of her neck with my hand to bring her face to face with me. “Sure thing, huh? Pretty sure I’m about to get back in there.”

  “Pretty sure I’m going to let you. Less talking more---oh!”

  Taking a nipple into my mouth, I suck hard, effectively shutting her up. Don’t get me wrong, I love her mouth, but now I need inside of her and I didn’t want to talk it out. For the next thirty minutes the only talking was of the dirty variety and her screaming for God.

  Pretty sure he heard her too, my woman was loud.

  Six months ago when I was at my lowest, I meet a tiny bookie who didn’t take my shit but still gave this fuck up a second chance at life. She saw something in me I hadn’t seen in myself. Without her, I wouldn’t know happiness, family or love. She also gave me everything I ever wanted without any fuss. Turns out, all I had to do was ask.

  ‘Family means no one gets left behind or forgotten.’

  ~ David Ogden Stiers

  Lov
ing Loyal was the first thing I’ve ever done for myself. I saw him, wanted him and even when I wanted to quit I couldn’t do it. I loved him that much. Together we did our best to heal each other. Some days were better than others but we didn’t quit, we won’t ever quit. Betting on the long shot was the best bet I ever made. Deep down I always knew he was a sure thing; it just took him a while to know it. Now he does and he’s become quite smug about it.

  We fell in love when each of us was at our worst. If we can survive that we can survive anything, bet on it.

  As of 12:01 pm today, I am officially Rion Hart.

  Twisting the ring around on my finger, my heart won’t stop fluttering remembering our vows. Mainly it was the part where Loyal told the judge to hurry the hell up and I quote, “make that shit legal.” Joining the crew, which included Tank and Shayla, we each did a shot in Senior’s memory back at the bar. Then Loyal said we had someplace to be so, I climbed in his pickup and waited for our destination.

  Pulling into the cemetery, I felt my eyes fill up but didn’t want to make today a sad day. When he helped me out and we walked over to Senior’s plot, I was speechless at what waited for me. In front of his head stone was a blanket with three baskets. Senior’s area was adorned with lottery tickets on little stakes, a deck of cards on the ledge and flowers of every variety. “When did you do this?” I ask him.

  “That day I said I had shit to do, I came here to ask his permission. No lie, I asked him and the wind picked up heavy and I figured that was my answer. Went and got your ring right after. Figured he’d like to look down and see the things he liked in life.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” I whisper. “Thank you doesn’t seem appropriate.”

  “Woman, you said I do,” he says, pulling me into a hug. “That’s good enough for me.”

  For hours we sat on that blanket and talked to Senior, together. My dad would have loved Loyal and he would have been proud of both of us for how far we’ve come together. Senior always said, second chances; everyone deserved one.

  Even me.

  Tomorrow would be business as usual on 8 Mile, heading back to the books and back to reality. But, today was about us and I was in no hurry to leave. It was when the wind picked up and blew through my hair that I felt him. I felt my dad; I felt his love cover me like a blanket.