by M. K. Gilher
A tall fucker, who I've seen maybe once, peeks out.
"Password?"
"We're the monsters of the Midwest." It changes every week; I'm astonished I remembered it. I'm never here anymore. He opens the door for me.
"Where's Bernard?"
His body stiffens at my curt tone. He slowly turns his eyes to mine. "Do I look like his secretary?" He assesses me from head to toe, sizing me up.
I hate the assholes they choose to do to this job. I grin and relax my posture. "What's your name?"
"Harris. Who the hell are you?" He plants his feet and squares his shoulders.
"Well, Harris, I'm not one to tell you how to do your job, but"—my volume rises, and I clench my teeth as I get in his face—"you might want to get your fucking mouth in check."
"Fuck you, man."
"Also, remember, we're all packing." I shove the barrel of my gun under his chin and smile. "I'm Trip, motherfucker."
His eyes pop wide and his shoulders tremble. Yeah, my name does that to people.
"Uh… shit. Fuck. Sorry, uh, Trip. First night here."
"You givin' me excuses, Harris?" I slide the gun down his trachea and drag out his name like we're old friends. No one gives Trip excuses. Not twice.
"No, man. Shit. Sorry. Ugh… Shit."
Christ. They've got fucking pussies guarding the entrance. I survey the room, but don't see Bernard. "Now, where the hell is he?"
His finger quakes as he points to the door on the far side of the massive space. It appears Bernard is getting his knob rocked in the private room.
"Thank you kindly," I say saccharine sweet and holster my pistol.
Harris, the lameass doorman, deflates and steadies himself on the wall. Moron.
I enter the smoky room and note four men playing poker at a square table to my left, one of them being Mahoney. He glances up at me and snarls his lip before returning to his cards.
Fuck your mother backward, Mahoney.
On my way to the back hallway, I tilt my chin to Dr. Momen, Judge Conroy, and Senator Thurman playing pool with Amber and some high-class call girls. Quick inspection of Amber reveals she's recovered from her beating. Good to see Conroy with her.
I stop at the metal door leading to the only room at the end of the narrow hallway. Tradition says you don't interrupt activities in the private room no matter what. Even in an emergency, you wait outside and let the man get off first.
However, I don't give a flying fuck about Bernard and slip my key into the lock. Peeking my head in, I see Bernard lounging on the couch, one arm extended along the top, his neck reclined. A hooker with short, dark hair bobs on his cock.
"Don't forget to have her lick your nards," I say as I step into the room, gun drawn.
Bernard's eyes snap open, and his head turns in my direction. He grunts and kicks the hooker off him. She thumps to the floor in front of the couch. Bernard jumps up and fumbles with his pants.
"What the fuck!" His voice is panicked.
"Aww, Bernard, it's not polite to kick your whore off your dick."
He yanks at his zipper. "Trip! You know the fucking rules. You don't barge in here. What the hell?"
The blowjob slut sits up and stares at me.
No.
Where the fuck is the hidden camera?
Chowder?
Fucking Chowder is sitting on the floor at Bernard's feet!
He stands and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Get the fuck out, Chowder," Bernard says, looking at me but tilting his head to his right.
"No. I'm not leaving you alone with him," Chowder responds with a petulant shake of his head.
"Someone better tell me what the fuck is going on here." I point the barrel of my gun between Bernard's eyes.
Is this a setup? I quickly check behind me. No one. The dark corners of the room—empty. This must be a fucking joke.
"Chowder, go!" Bernard yells.
Chowder scowls at me as he scampers out of the room. I keep my gun trained on Bernard and check to make sure Chowder leaves the hallway.
"Now, put the gun down." Bernard tips his chin at my gun.
"I'll holster my gun when I'm goddamn ready. Explain this shit."
He holds up his hands trying to placate me. "Okay, just come sit with me." He motions to the couch.
"Not after what I just saw."
"Fine. I'll sit," he says.
I walk around the couch and face him.
"Seriously, Jacade. Put the gun away."
"Talk. Before I put one between your dentures."
"I'm bisexual."
I lower my gun. "What?"
"I have sex with both men and women."
"I know what bisexual means. Chowder though?"
He nods.
"He's on drugs, Bernard." Why would he get involved with an addict?
"I'm not proud of this, but I'm giving him coke in exchange for sex."
I'm in a comic book, and the artist just drew my head exploding and splattering onto the next page.
I throw my hands up in the air. "Bernard! What the hell? Have a bottom dweller supply him, never you!"
"It's beyond stupid, but I like his company. It keeps him coming back for more."
Well, now I know why he brought Chowder to the office with him when Amber was attacked. They were probably here when I called him.
How could I have missed this about Bernard?
"How many others have there been?" I croak out my question because I'm not sure I want the answer.
He looks at the floor. "A few."
Bernard and I hang out.
I had Bernard by the balls for years.
I was trying to get Bernard's attention.
Jesus. Why didn't I see it?
Completely failing at hiding the mortification in my voice, I ask Bernard the most absurd question ever asked. "Were you fucking Viktor?"
Bernard nods slowly. "I was in a relationship with Viktor on-and-off for ten years. I think he thought I'd help him win a vote. I broke it off with Viktor when I was diagnosed with prostate cancer four years ago."
I had no inkling Viktor liked men. I'd never seen him with a man. Never seen him with Bernard. I need to start paying closer attention.
Fuck Chowder. I don't give a shit about Chowder.
Viktor was jealous of Chowder. But why take it out on Ivy and me?
Bernard watches me return my gun to my hip. "Viktor liked edge play… asphyxiation, knives."
I flinch at his candid admission and turn my head. I glance back at him through squinted eyes.
"He wanted me to choke him till he blacked out. Knife play that would cause small cuts but not scar. He trusted me since I'm a physician. I humored him for several years until I had to go through chemo. He got needy and impatient, calling at all hours of the night and sending endless text messages when I was sick."
He needs to stop talking. Why is he sharing this crap with me?
He sighs. "I started living healthier, going to yoga regularly, and he didn't fit into my world anymore. He lost it, and threatened Ivy to get my attention. I ended it for good after that."
"Anyone else?"
"No one important." He stands and walks to the arm of the couch. He leans his hip on it and crosses his legs at the ankles. "I've really only loved one man, but he didn't love me back. He doesn't swing my way. Loyal to one woman."
"Unlike you." I cross my arms over my chest and widen my stance. "Does Helen know?"
"Of course not. I love her and I fuck her too."
Gross. I'm done with this conversation.
"It's not all black and white, Jacade." The defensive edge in his tone softens. "Helen's not into my kink."
You mean Helen doesn't want to be choked and cut while you fuck her? Imagine that. Oh god, no. Don't imagine that. Fuck. I take a step to leave.
"Viktor liked women as well. He was in love with Ivy when he was with her."
His mention of Ivy stops me, and I return my gaze t
o him.
"He asked me for her in the police station too, just like you did. I thought she would be safer with him than with me because she'd be farther from the fire. After things went south between her and Viktor, I realized she was better off with Helen and me."
I laugh at his stupidity. "But not with me?"
"No. Not you. Not yet. You were still too young and impulsive. You've come a long way with your self-control. When she broke up with Kevin, I needed your help to keep Viktor from her, and I knew it was time. You were ready. Remember, I care about you and want the best for both of you."
Sure, old man. I'm not ordering what you're peddling. Your entire life has been about you and your twisted motives.
"You have to tell Helen. You're exposing her to disease."
"I play safe with all my partners."
Okay. Way too much information. I'm outta here.
"Who told you to come here?" he asks my back. "Someone tip you off about Chowder and me?"
"No. I had no clue. I came to discuss another issue and walked into this scene." I point to the couch. Two men getting their rocks off doesn't faze me. Ivy's geriatric uncle with my childhood friend and my lifetime nemesis squicks me right the fuck out.
"What did you come for?" He's calmer than before. Probably because he's come clean with me and I haven't threatened to expose him.
"Who else knows about Ivy?" I ask.
"Viktor, Helen, and now you."
"That's it? You didn't spill your guts to any other boy toys?"
"No," he says.
"What about Chowder?"
"I said no one." Bernard's pitch strengthens, and he glares at me for lowballing his words.
"Tell me now. Are you gonna throw your hat in the ring at the vote?"
Surprise flashes in his eyes, but he quickly returns to his signature blank stare. "No. I've been backing you for years. You know that. Why the hell do you think you're in such a good position? Me. Don't forget it."
He'd better not be lying. "If you put Ivy out there by telling Gerry her identity, she's dead. He'll kill her, and we'll both lose her."
He stares into my eyes. "I'd never put her at risk like that."
His relaxed posture and convincing tone make it difficult to read him, but history has taught me he can't be trusted. And when it involves my woman, there is no fucking room for doubt.
"Okay, old man. I'll keep your secret if you keep Ivy's."
He casts his gaze to the floor.
"And watch Chowder. He's a loose cannon, and you're messing with his head."
***
Ivy
"So, he's…" My question remains unfinished as Jacade hops in and we speed off.
"Right," he says. Jacade's fingers tighten on the steering wheel. The streetlights flash over his knuckles as we pass under them.
Green.
Yellow.
How could I not have seen it? My uncle Bernie is a cheater. I suppose I didn't want to see it.
"With a man named Chowder?" I ask for clarification.
What kind of name is that anyway? Does he like corn too much or something?
Green.
"Uh huh." He flips the right blinker and pulls the car onto a one-way street.
"And you walked in on him going…" No. Not saying it.
"Yep." He lets a sharp exhale out and shakes his head like he's attempting to push the memory out of his ear canals.
"You know what this means?" he asks as we merge onto Lakeshore Drive. "I have to soak my brain in bleach."
"Oh for sure, there's no other way around it." I burst out laughing.
His grim face morphs into a smile, and he chuckles with me. "That back there, I was not expecting." He trails his fingers through his hair.
"You had no idea? I thought you spend a lot of time with Uncle Bernie."
"No. I don't pay much attention to Bernard's personal life, apart from your role in it."
"Did you know he cheats?"
He presses his lips together, and pauses before he answers in a gentle voice. "Yes, I have heard he goes out on Helen. I'd always assumed he was with women. I didn't consider he might like men too. I didn't know Viktor and Chowder swung both ways either. This is all new information for me. I think I'd prefer not to know, to be honest. You can't unsee that shit."
"Do you think he'll come clean to Aunt Helen like you told him to do?"
He doesn't answer. He licks his lips and accelerates onto the interstate.
After a while, he says, "Helen might already know. Gerry probably told her in your hospital room that day. He might not have told her Bernard's bisexual, but I doubt she'd care too much about the distinction. Cheating is cheating."
Oh gosh. My dear Aunt Helen. Her life has really sucked. Being forced to marry a man and then to find out he's a cheater. Gay or not, that has to hurt. I'm so busy worrying about my aunt Helen, I barely notice Jacade is heading away from the city and my apartment.
Chapter 13
Ivy
Jacade leaves the Challenger running and climbs out of the driver's seat. The headlights shine on a rusted chain obstructing the entrance to a dirt road. I gander out the window and see grass fields of tall, slender stems. The moonlight casts dappling shadows of maple and birch trees along our path. He unlinks one side of the chain and chucks it in the ditch on the other side. He folds his frame back into the car and speeds down the road. The car skids as he stops and dust engulfs the rear end.
About twenty feet ahead stands a decrepit, deserted trailer. The siding bends from the walls after years of contact with nature's elements. The front door swings on one hinge. A huge, old willow tree planted about ten feet to the right dwarfs the tiny trailer. Its arching branches sweep down and inside the guts of the structure. The tree and the trailer both look like they've been here dancing in the wind for hundreds of years.
"Come on," he says and exits the car.
Umm, okay. But where are we?
The icy breeze slaps me in the face when I step out of the car. It may be fall, but crotchety Jack Frost is creeping upon us, eager to steal our daylight, outdoor activities, and lucidity.
My arms hug my waist, pressing my wool jacket closer to my flesh. He rests his ass on the grill of the Challenger and supports himself on his palms behind him on the hood.
I climb up next to him, and the warmth from the engine seeps through my jeans. I stare at his rugged features in profile as he gazes at the trailer.
"I brought you here to show you where I came from."
"This is where you grew up?" I ask.
"Yes. I purchased the land a while ago. An investor wanted to clear the property and build a subdivision. I couldn't let that happen."
He bought it? If it'd been one of my foster homes, I'd demolish it with an excavator.
"Why?"
"As a reminder. This double-wide spawned the man I am today, whether I like it or not."
"See the second step there?" He points to the eroded metal stairs leading up to the front entrance. "My mom had me hide under there whenever this one guy came to visit. His name was Tony. He had a New York accent. I think he was my bio dad. She lost Jude because of her drug use and manic depression. She was afraid to lose me and made me hide for hours."
"That's so awful." I think of a little Jacade with baby-blue eyes hiding in the cold and dirt under the steps.
"Sometimes he'd smoke pot with her. Sometimes they'd fight or fuck. If he stayed a long time, I'd go over to Chowder's trailer." He motions to a dark field to our left.
"Chowder lived here too?"
"Yeah. I've known him a long time. We were… friends. We worked together in the beginning—boosting cars, dealing drugs. I could trust him. Till he started using."
"So, what happened with Tony?"
"Not sure. The last time he came, Jude and Leo were living with us. Jude and I hid in our treehouse." He looks up at the canopy of the willow tree. "We watched Tony beat the fuck out of Leo. He never came back after that."
&nb
sp; "Was he a council member?"
Jacade's body stills and he speaks low. "What?"
"Was he connected to the organization somehow?"
"Fuck. I don't know."
"Maybe he's the one that brought Jude into the fold."
His eyes widen and flash with anger. "I'll have to ask Jude about that. You're a smart one, my love."
"I have my moments." I smile at him.
He stares back at the putrefying trailer. "Anyway, I brought you here to show you why I joined the council. There was no future for me in that trailer."
"Did you have other family members you could've lived with?"
"Nope. Just my mom, Leo, Jude, and me. Jude got out of this shithole and left me behind. Who could blame him? At eighteen, Bernard offered me the same chance to become something… grander, and I took it, like Jude did."
"Do you ever regret making the deal with Uncle Bernie?"
He gazes at the crescent moon against the dark sky. The immense willow swings and thrashes in the wind. Maybe I've asked too much.
"Yes and no. I made my decision for the right reasons. To save an eighteen-year-old girl from jail time and to give myself a chance to be worthy of her." He turns to stare into my eyes. "I regret taking the easy way out and giving you up to gain what I have."
"And do you think you're worthy now?"
He looks down and shakes his head. "I don't know. Sometimes I think I'm invincible. Then I remember the pain I've caused you, and I feel more unworthy than when I was eighteen."
"Jacade…"
"When Viktor had you alone—called you an orphan whore—I wasn't there. That was my fault. I never should've dragging your pure heart into this."
"You can't be there all the time," I say.
He pins me with his intense gaze. "You would never have been alone in a bathroom with Viktor if I hadn't touched you in the elevator that day."
"I had ties to Viktor before our elevator encounter. Uncle Bernie changed the course of my future when he took me in. You've all worked so hard to keep me away, but I was born into this life."
He looks up at the stars over our heads and takes in a deep breath. Did he hear me?
"Where did he touch you?" A muscle in his jaw ticks.
"Please don't ask me that." I can't tell him.
"Tell me."