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Authors: K.S. Adkins

8 Mile & Rion (9 page)

BOOK: 8 Mile & Rion
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The day passed rather quickly and at five thirty I called Rio. I didn’t want to, but I had to. I didn’t know anything about the city or about fancy restaurants. Although she doesn’t strike me as fancy, the word club implies more than shredded jeans, beat up sweatshirt and combat boots.

“What?”

“I need a favor,” I tell him. “Meeting Rion for dinner at the Rattlesnake Club and got nothing nice with me.”

“She ask you out?”

“Yeah,” I mumble. “I gotta be there by six thirty so you gonna loan me some shit or what?”

“Where you at now?”

“Just leaving my last collection,” I say giving him cross streets. “How long will it take you?”

“Relax bro,” he laughs, “She’s the easiest chick you’ll ever meet. You could show in a towel with a woody and she ain’t gonna care. She’ll just be glad to eat and talk with you. That girl ain’t big on caring what other people think. She sees shit in people no one else does. But I’m warning you, she loves to talk. That might be the only indicator she’s actually female.”

Listening to his pep talk helped a bit. These were all things that I knew, but I wanted to be sure it wasn’t just because I wanted her to be those things. Rio spoke of her in truth, a truth I accepted for no other reason than it felt right. My past didn’t give me the means of figuring this out on my own and he wasn’t saying it to blow smoke. Rion was as real as they came, well so far she was anyway.

Standing next to the car and leaning on the back, a woman, likely a hooker approaches not caring that I’m on the phone. I’ve never seen a hooker in person. We didn’t have hookers where I came from. We had whores, but only because they liked to fuck for free. This one keeps trying to touch me while I’m trying to talk to Rio and it’s pissing me off. I wanted to hear more about Rion, but I couldn’t concentrate with her yapping at me and don’t even get me started on her stench.

“Fuck off,” I growl at her but she just smiles and keeps razzing me. “Hurry up man,” I tell him. “I got some bitch annoying the shit out of me.”

“Ah,” he laughs. “So you met some of the local talent, be there in ten.”

Hanging up with him, I try to locate her and as soon as she sees me looking she tries touching me again. After a few minutes I’d had enough of this smelly whore getting in my space. When she tried one last time, I pushed her away but she was so blown out she landed flat on her ass.

Once she found her feet she took off running and I finally took a deep breath. Fuck, now I’d need another shower. But apparently that was going to have to wait because when Rio finally showed, so did the cops.

‘And if real life was like the movies, I should have lived happily ever after.’

~Piper Laurie

He’ll show. I’ve told myself this dozens of times since getting here early. I’ve rearranged the plates, silverware and made sure I had the best view so I could see him when he walked in. When I threw the offer out, there was a fire in his eyes. He quickly squashed it but I saw it, he was interested too.

He’ll show.

Picking up my knife, I try to be stealthy when I check my hair and teeth. Taking a small sip of wine I glance over at my phone and press the button. It’s ten to seven. I said seven so he’s not late. Maybe he’s one of those on the nose types. He was a Marine, duh. Of course he’s always on time. How do guys do this? Asking someone out is hell on the nerves. I’ve never done the actual asking before and really this time I didn’t either. I issued a challenge and hoped he accepted it.

Taking another sip, my phone pings and I pick it up right away. It’s not him texting me, it’s Tank. Dammit, I knew he’d worry. Assuring him everything is fine and promising to tell him if it wasn’t, I shut my screen down and start to get nervous.

My glass is half empty. It’s taking everything I’ve got not to down it and order another. He’s not from here so maybe he got turned around? Maybe he can’t find a parking spot. Looking at my phone again I see it’s now seven fifteen. Okay, so maybe he’s not coming.

When the server comes back, I tell myself one more glass. Give the guy a chance. Trying to relax I take in the scene, watch the people and before you know it, it’s eight twenty and I’m buzzed. I can handle vodka, even a few beers, but wine kicks my ass every time. Wanting to wait but knowing I need to let all things Loyal go, I silently curse myself for pushing too hard. I’ve just never met anyone like him. He’s so guarded, chivalrous though he tries to hide it and extremely humble. It doesn’t hurt that he’s huge and jacked either. Though he’s gruff and abrasive, he’s gentle with me when he relaxes. He wasn’t a happy person but I wanted to be the one that gave him a reason to smile, I knew I wanted more. I’m hooked on him and I can’t curb it. But it really didn’t matter because, I’m also stood up.

The reality of it all sucked. When it came to placing a bet, I never lost.

Until now.

Taking the hint as I promised I would, I quietly paid my bill foregoing dinner because rejection stole my appetite. Even walking down the steps was an effort. I can’t explain why I was so heartbroken, but I was. I really thought he felt something too. Picking up on social cues was never really my thing. Taking no for an answer, even less so. But I thought… you know what? It doesn’t matter what I thought.

I thought wrong.

He made it clear we weren’t friends, that we were, in fact temporary. When he kissed me right before I started yelling I thought…then it hit me, he kissed me to shut me up.

Picking up my pace I wanted to run to the road, hail a cab and get the fuck out of here. Like a fool, I took a cab here hoping we could drive back together and continue our date. Just as I reach the last set of steps I hear my phone. Swiping it open, I quickly lost that final shred of hope when I hear Rio’s voice.

“We got a problem,” he says. “Loyal got arrested after his last collection.”

“What?” I ask breathless. “Arrested? What for?”

“Solicitation and assault,” he says, growling it out. “He didn’t do it, Junior. I was on the phone with him while the talent was fucking with him. She wouldn’t stop so he pushed her away. She fell and called the cops saying he propositioned her, then beat her when she said no.”

“Find out when his hearing is and who’s hearing it,” I tell him, jogging to the street.

“Already did. Tomorrow morning eight a.m. Anderson is hearing it.” he says. “He wanted to be here, Junior. I was bringing him clothes.”

“He was?” I whisper. “You were?”

“Yeah,” he confirms. “I was.”

“My car?”

“Impounded.”

“I’ll use the other one,” I tell him. “Thanks Rio.”

After three shots of vodka and two Hail Mary’s, I went to bed but didn’t sleep. I couldn’t sleep knowing he was down at County alone. But mostly it’s because he wasn’t in here watching over me while he thought I slept.

He didn’t stand me up was the only comforting thought I had. When tears fill my eyes I knew that I missed his presence terribly. Then when the tears dried, determination took over. I knew I’d be getting him out tomorrow morning followed by a long ass talk.

But before any of that happens, I had to pull out a suit I never thought I’d wear again. I hate suits by the way; they make my ass look flat.

 

‘America is the land of the second chance - and when the gates of the prison open, the path ahead should lead to a better life.’

~George W. Bush

I’ve been in some questionable situations in my life, but this one trumps any tour, op or shit Jill ever pulled. Sitting here in this cell, none of those things even register. No doubt Rion thinks I was a no-show and because of it thinks I don’t want her. That’s what got me feeling like a caged lion. When I was being hauled off in cuffs Rio told me he’d make a call. To who, I don’t know. I didn’t exactly have time to ask.

I wasn’t registered as a driver in Michigan nor the owner of her car. I’m being held for solicitation and then assault of a god damn hooker. I didn’t use my phone call because I was counting on Rio and couldn’t afford an attorney anyway. I’m utterly ashamed of myself and I haven’t even done anything wrong.

I’m ashamed because, I let Rion down. I didn’t have to put my hands on the woman but swear to god I just moved her away. Then with the theatrics of a seasoned actress, she hit the ground. Now I’m being escorted to my hearing where they’ll probably take one look at me and throw me to the fucking wolves. Roughing up a hooker, give me a fucking break. When they walk me into the court room the judge looks at me like I was not only guilty but Satan himself.

Not saying a word I stand before the judge swearing to tell the whole truth and a bunch of other shit. Meanwhile that whore is over there moaning like I hit her with a ball bat eighteen times. Christ, I’ve had better days.

“Your honor,” I hear and my eyes squeeze closed in total shame. Fuck, she’s here. I can’t stand the thought of her seeing me low like this.

“Ms. Reynolds,” he says pleasantly shocked to see her. That would make two of us. At least now I know who Rio called.

When she comes to my side she speaks into my ear, “Not a word.” Nodding I keep my head down but manage to watch her approach the bench. I also hear “Oh shit,” when the whore sees her too.

Two or three minutes go by and she and the judge talk like they’ve known each other for years. When he nods at her she turns back toward me but then addresses the whore. “Sugar,” she says with menace, “where’s your attorney?”

“Don’t got one,” she says staring at her feet.

“Where’s Bones? Let me guess, hanging you out to dry again?”

“You know how it is;” she whispers, linking her hands together. “Bones does what he wants.”

The judge wastes no time handing down his sentencing. “Dismissed,” was all he said followed by, “you’re free to go, Mr. Hart.”

“Dis---?” Sugar tries to say but then Rion is there in her face.

“Don’t fuck with me, Sugar. You want stay a little longer? I can make the dream a reality.”

“No,” she says, looking away.

“One of these days you’re going to really piss me off. This is the last time I take it easy on you. Don’t cross me or mine again.”

“I didn’t know he was yours, Junior.”

Leaning forward and pulling Sugar toward her by her slutty shirt she growls, “Now you do.”

My heart sped up at that, my hands started to sweat too. She was sticking up for me, claiming me. Even if it was to a hooker, it was the point. Then, taking my hand she leads me from the courtroom back to the lobby so I can go retrieve my meager belongings. I don’t speak and neither does she. I don’t dare say shit because she looks seriously pissed and keeps adjusting her suit. Once that’s done I meet her back in the lobby and she kept it simple.

“Here’s the address to impound. Go get my car and meet me at the apartment.”

Not waiting for my answer, she turns and walks away.

 

‘I'm tough, ambitious, and I know exactly what I want.’

~Madonna

Fucking Sugar.

Once that shit show was over, I came home, took my hair down and poured myself a drink. I rarely drink anymore but this nightmare qualifies. Now that he’s safe I want to smack him upside the head for getting himself arrested. Granted, Sugar is known for stunts like this, but he’s four times her size. He could have walked away or got in my car. But no, he pushed her and Sugar being Sugar saw an opportunity and took it.

BOOK: 8 Mile & Rion
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