by KT Morrison
“He came by last night.”
She took a deep breath, let it out her pursed lips and stared out into the rain, barely able to see the mountains of gravel around them now. Rain beat on the roof of the truck.
Rocco said, “You fuck him, you fuck me, fuck your husband...”
“So? That make you jealous?”
“You don’t fuckin care?”
She turned to look at him, said “About what, Rocco?”
He looked away, out at the rain. “You always wanted us both. You fucking whore.”
“Rocco, don’t...” she said. “Rocco, I’m serious. That make you jealous?”
“How many men you need? You want something in every hole. You’re disgusting. A fucking tramp.”
“I’ve known your brother a long time, Rocco. We have a relationship...”
He snorted, shook his head, growing frustrated with her. “You ask me if I’m fucking some stripper. I should worry about you—what you got. You’re the one fucking around.” He gripped the wheel tight, said, “You fucked that stripper, didn’t you?”
“No, I didn’t, Rocco.”
“Right.”
“I didn’t,” she said, her voice raising.
“I swear, Nia,” he said, shaking his head, his eyes out the window, distant. “Why did I ever fuck you?”
“There’s no one else.”
“Fuckin, that’s good. So just three men.”
“Look, I don’t know what to say.”
“Get out.”
“Why?”
“Get the fuck out.”
She reached to him, said, “Wait, Rocco, don’t...”
He pulled his arm away, his hand poised to back hand her. “Get the fuck out of my truck right fuckin now.”
Her lips quivered, her insides gripped with anxiety. He wouldn’t look in her eyes. She picked her purse from the floor and put her hand on the lever for the door. She looked over her shoulder at him, he was still glowering into her footwell, hand still poised. She opened the door and slipped out into the rain.
The torrent hit her, soaked her in seconds as she struggled through the soft gravel. Her heels sunk into it as she stumbled, her shoulders hunched, her hair hanging and swinging wet, her purse clutched to her chest. She made her way blindly, just a vague idea of where her car had been parked.
This wasn’t the reaction she’d expected. She didn’t know he’d be so mad. Her heels crunched on the uneven ground and she felt her eyes swell. Not with tears but an overwhelming remorse.
“Hey! Hey! Get back here,” he yelled, his voice a boom even in the driving weather.
She turned, gathered her jacket up around her neck, watched him stomp through the gravel, pounding his way to her through the rain.
He grabbed her then, grabbed her jacket and wrenched it right out of her own grasp. Her feet slid through the stone. She cried out.
He held her, his eyes burning into hers. He struggled with something. Rain splashed in his hair, it lay flat on him, water running in rivulets down his fearsome face.
“Your fucking husband watched.”
She bit her lip to stop it from shaking. “I—”
“He fucking watched?”
“I know,” she said, feeling shame and fear wash over her.
He shook her roughly. “He watch us?”
She nodded, her face scrunched up tight.
“Nia. Did he?”
“He did,” she cried.
“When?”
“He watched the video. You recorded me sucking your cock...”
“What?”
“Yeah, that was for him. I’m so sorry. And he was home that day you fucked me in my daughter’s bed. He watched on the baby monitor.”
“Are you fuckin kidding me?” he roared.
“You want me to lie?” she cried, desperate to be forgiven. She ran her hands up his arms, wanted him to accept her.
His face twisted in rage, a hateful sneer pulled the corners of his mouth up. He grabbed her around her neck, shutting off her blood, shutting off her air. It frightened her, he was so incredibly strong. She was nothing to him. He could snap her neck, kill her on a whim right now. He strangled her and she went black, her nails ripped over his dragon covered arms.
“Did you record it? You fuckin whore, fuckin slut piece of shit. Did you record me?” he bellowed.
He threw her back by her neck, both of his arms thrusting her away from him like she was garbage. She stumbled in her heels, one broke, the other collapsed and she fell on to her rump and she grunted. She couldn’t breathe.
She sat on her ass in the gravel and Rocco turned and he stormed back to his truck. Her body twisted and convulsed as it panicked, not remembering at all how to draw in air. She tried to relax, tried to let her breath come back but she was seized. Voices in her head screamed at her, Get up, breathe, you slut, you’re garbage...
She watched his boots on the other side of his truck as he made it to the door. She had a fleeting worry he’d get in and he’d run her over. He opened his door then he slammed it again. He was coming back. Her breath squeaked in, tight desperate huffs. She turned and scrambled, clawing through the stone on her hands and knees.
He grabbed her jacket and he flipped her onto her back and she lay there with her hands up to protect herself.
He thrust a finger in her face, screamed, “You kiss him?”
“He’s my husband,” she cried.
“Dino! You kiss him when you fuck him?”
She coughed, “I don’t know, yeah, I do...”
“Get the fuck out of here...go home, you whore. Don’t come back.”
He turned on his heel, his boots scraping in the wet stone and he marched off a dozen steps. He roared then to the sky and she covered her mouth. He slammed his fists into his thighs and he whipped around and came back. She protected her neck with her hands.
“I only hired you to fuck you,” he said, thrusting his finger again. “You’re useless. Think I need you? You’re here to suck my cock. I didn’t know you were such a fucking slut. I didn’t know you’d be so easy, you piece of shit. I hired you so I could stick my cock in your holes...”
He stood up and he kicked gravel over her. It went up her skirt, painfully flicked the back of her thighs and she covered her eyes.
“I never needed no shitty two-bit number cruncher. You hear me? All I ever wanted was a piece of ass. That’s all you are, isn’t it?”
“No,” she whimpered.
“Get out of here. I never want to see you again.”
This time he left. He went and got in his truck and he roared out of there, sending up wet plumes and kicking gravel all around with his massive waist-high tires.
GEOFF
His hand cramped as he curled the french nib, rendering a perfect haunch on an artfully overweight cow. Metal scratched paper, leaving black line in its wake. He lifted his hand away and stood, dropped the pen holder in a jar of water and shook his hand out. More spot illustrations, one more for the National Post and another for a high profile literary magazine that published in the southern States. Later, he’d finish some odds and ends for the books he’d been working on, Winslow and Odie could do a sweep of the studio, remove all the extraneous, prepare them for about eighteen months of back and forth with Sparrow House. A week from now he would be on a more precise yet lucrative path. He couldn’t wait. He flexed and curled his hand, making a fist and releasing it, digging the thumb of his other hand into it to work out the kinks. His phone buzzed and slipped down his table.
He flipped it over, saw it was Jenny from Evergreen and took the call. Business stuff as usual, a telling anxiety in her voice. Choo was going to be good for Geoff, but it was also going to be very good for Evergreen and they had a lot on the line. Sure it was anticipated to be a success, but they were spending too, promoting like they never had before. If the book flopped it could be serious trouble for them. She gave him gentle reminders of his obligations, talking about a schedule she wanted to e
-mail. All his signing dates, his television appearances. She was kind about it. He was more important to them now than ever and he could sense it. He was kind back. Told her he’d be there. Couldn’t wait. The first obligation was the book launch and he said he and Nia would meet her for drinks before hand. She was elated. There was a clunk in the alley.
He walked and talked, made his way past Winslow bent in front of a computer, and he went to the front door. Someone walked past, going to the house. He looked in the parking out front, saw the back end of Nia’s black convertible.
He joked with Jenny about the launch, assured her of his excitement, walked along the studio past his own computer and made his way to the glass insert in the door that looked up to their house. It was Nia, bent and bustling through the rain, going up the steps to the kitchen. It was puzzling. He checked his watch, saw it was just after eight in the morning. Jenny asked him how work was going with Sparrow. He made his way to his iMac, told her it hadn’t started yet, he had a lot to clear first. Checked his messages to see if Nia had sent something, his phone engaged currently with his editor. Nothing there.
He broke off with Jenny politely, told her he’d call her the day before the launch, set something up and she bubbled happily, excited what the next week might bring.
He set his phone down, stared absently at his hefty cow smiling back at him, eyes googly and happy but also afraid to be slaughtered and eaten, conveying the point of the article for the paper. He picked the phone up again and went back to the front door and watched the rain. Watched it splash and bounce, dribble in tense rivulets down his wife’s highly polished sports car. He peeked down the alley, worried he was going to see an enormous monster truck crawling through the wet haze. Excited too. Happy it wasn’t there but aroused by a sudden internal glimpse of his wife in passion, her arms wrapped around that monster, her lips coming apart in a gasp as he entered her. He watched the alley a moment longer, arms folded. Lightning streaked the sky to the west. No thunder.
“What’s up?” Winslow said behind him.
“Huh?” he said and turned, kind of forgot the kid was here. “Oh nothing. Just thinking. Hey, hold it down for a bit, Nia’s home, I want to go tell her something, okay?”
He shrugged and said “Yeah, of course.” Smirked, like, What else would he do?
“Okay,” Geoff said again, gave one last look down the alley to see if her lover was coming.
He headed to the back door, paused, then launched himself through the door and up the stairs trying to stay as dry as possible. He powered up the stairs and stumbled through the door and into the kitchen. He laughed, shook his shirt out and looked around. No Nia. The kitchen was dark like she hadn’t even paused here.
He went through the hall to the stairs, looked around, then up the staircase. The house was still. The stairs creaked as he climbed and he made his way to the landing and walked to the bedroom. She wasn’t there, either.
“Nia?” he said cautiously.
“In here.” Her voice was a quiet muffle from the bathroom, spoken down or into something. Sadness was in her voice. It clamped it. Two words spoke so much when it came from the lips from someone you love. Trouble.
“Oh, Nia, what is it?” he worried, moving quickly to the bathroom door and leaning on the edge. His wife was there. In the dark, fully clothed, sitting in the bathtub. Her knees were drawn up, her arms hugged her legs, her head pressed to her knees, her wet black hair clung to her, hung around her.
He dropped to his knees and came to her, banging into the tub to be with her as quickly as he could. He put an arm around her. “Nia, Nia, what happened, are you okay?”
“It’s over, Geoff. It’s all over,” she mumbled into her thighs.
He got his other arm around her and squeezed himself to her tightly. His shirt soaked through in a second. “Oh baby,” he said, “you’re soaking. Baby, oh, Nia.”
She leaned to him and he felt her sobbing.
“What’s over, Nia?”
“All of it, Geoff. Rocco knows. Rocco knows it all. He fuckin freaked out on me.”
He consoled her, hugged and rubbed, rested his chin to the top of her head.
“Nia, you’re so cold. Baby, you’re shivering,” he whispered. He let her go easily, let her away and he went to the end of the tub. “Tell me what happened,” he said. He reached into the tub and he took her shoes off, set them carefully down on the tile, noting her broken heel.
“Geoff, Dino told him what he did. Told him you watched.”
“He did?” he said. His scalp tingled, his scrotum climbed and shrank. He felt suddenly vulnerable. Shades of high school where a bully learned your name and you became a target. He pulled the chrome lever that closed the drain and he turned the hot water on, started filling the tub as she sat in it.
“Geoff, he was so mad. Way more mad than I would have thought. He was...crazy...”
“Nia, it’s okay,” he said, and his hands undid the zipper on her rain jacket. She sat up and let him open it and pull it off her. He threw it to the side and kneeled again to help her with her shirt and she stopped him. She looked into his eyes. Her makeup was smeared, her black eyes messed, running dark streams, her lipstick gone.
“Geoff, I don’t have a job anymore...”
“He fired you? He can’t—”
“I can’t go back, Geoff,” she said, shaking her wet hair with fear.
“Baby,” he said, “Nia, it’ll be okay. It will.” He lifted her shirt up as the water came up to her rump, steaming now, coming to temperature. “Let’s get you warmed up, Nia,” he said. She softly cried and hung her head as he undid her bra, unzipped her skirt and she shifted so he could pull it down and off her legs. He let her sit in her black panties.
“Geoff, he pushed me down on the ground...he said the worst things...called me names...”
“He pushed you down? Oh, my Nia,” he said, and he hugged her head to his chest and her fingers stroked the backs of his arms. “Did he hurt you?”
“I’m okay.”
“Hey,” he said, and he pulled her to look at him, ran his hands over her hair again and again, smoothing it, pulling it away from her beautiful face. “Nia, you’re all mine. I’ve got you. Nothing bad will happen. Promise. I’ll make it all better.”
“Oh, Geoff,” she said, pressed her ear to his chest and gripped him.
“Nia, I’ll make it better. We’re fine. That’s all that matters.”
“Geoff, the cottage...the car...I fucked it all up, Geoff. We can’t—”
“Baby, we’re okay. We’ll be fine. Keep the car. We don’t need a cottage. We can rent. We can fuckin fly to Europe, Bahamas...we can do whatever we want...”
“Aw, why, Geoff, why did I fuck it all up?”
“It’s okay, Nia.”
“I’m just so humiliated. I never should have told Dino you wanted to watch.”
“That was fine, Nia, it was fine,” he said, rocking her.
“We went too far,” she whispered.
“No, Nia, we were okay, it was fine,” he consoled her. “We had fun. I need you with me, Nia. I need you here with me so much...”
“Oh, Geoff,” she gasped, realizing something, looking up at him. “Geoff, what are we going to tell Odie?”
“She’ll be happy Nia. Just like old times, she’ll be so happy.”
“I’m so embarrassed,” she said. “Oh, what are you going to tell Winslow?”
He smiled for her, let her feel his warmth, his love. He brushed a strand of long wet hair from her cheek, said, “Don’t worry, Nia, I’ll think of something.”
He hated seeing her like this. Not his tough Nia. She was strong, armoured. He admired her ability to remain unaffected. Except her heart. She had a fragile heart. He hated to see it hurt.
“Nia, sweetheart. Sit in your bath, okay? I’ll be right back. I’ve got a few things to do. You’re mine all day. Hear me? I’ve got you.”
She nodded, her chin dimpled, her lips trembling. “Okay,”
she said.
“Don’t you worry. Nia, it’s all going to be okay.”
He stood then and he collected her wet things and he put them in the hamper. He left her, paused at the door to watch her for a moment, sitting there in the filling bath in just her panties. What they’d done was so risky, so terrible. Now it was all over. It had blown up.
He ran downstairs and went to the kitchen. Flicked his kettle on to boil some water. Filled his French press with coffee and looked out the window at the churning wet sky above his studio. He needed coffee. It was going to be a long night. He was the man born for this job. This was how their relationship was forged. If anyone could get her through this it was her husband.
He took his phone from his pocket and texted Winslow.
G-force: grab petty cash go to Green Leaf, grab a chocolate chunk brownie mix and vanilla ice cream. More coffee, we’re running low on coffee too
30
Healing
Friday, August 25th
She had spent all day Tuesday in the house. Mostly on the bed, wouldn't even come down to the family room in case she might run into Winslow. Geoff made her breakfast and he made her lunch too, bringing up a grilled cheese to the bedroom. She was hurting and it killed him. For days it rested on his shoulders and it tightened his chest and gripped his heart. He worried for her. Didn’t want to think of her in any kind of suffering. Not his best friend. Not the love of his life.
She watched TV with him and Odie on that night and she curled up with Geoff. She didn’t smile, her face wan, her eyes wet with threatening tears. He knew the physical pain he felt from this, he couldn’t imagine what it was doing to his poor Nia.
He watched her now, sitting in a Herman Miller, her glasses on, T-shirt and shorts, hunched in front of a computer. Her crazy hair was tied back in a shaggy ponytail and every bit of her perfect face was visible. She wore no makeup and she was the most exquisite thing he could imagine.
Her presence in the studio had changed Winslow however. Outgoing and gregarious once he’d warmed up with Geoff, that was all gone now. He was quiet again. Painfully polite, his voice was a whisper. Nia intimidated the shit out of him. Believe me, Winslow old buddy, I get it. I was there too. It took three years for him to get the courage—