8 Mile & Rion (4 page)

The plus side here is he’s incredibly warm, with a scent that begs me to settle in to him and stay for a while. Even when he was snarling and growling at me last night, he didn’t scare me much. Well, he did at first, but right after that he went out of his way to make me feel safe which was at odds with his theatrical entrance. It was the after stuff that convinced me he wasn’t as harsh as he pretended to be. Don’t get me wrong, I know he wasn’t a happy guy but he is an honorable guy, I can just tell. So when his huge tree trunk of a leg covers both of mine and he mumbles ‘Jill’ I wince in disappointment. Of course, he thinks I’m someone else. Why shouldn’t he? A virile man like this one would be taken. Even if he was kind of a dick in general, I bet he treats
her
with respect. He may not be easy on the eyes, but he screams the “cave man, protect woman, me bad ass, you dead” vibe and at that moment, I was envious of Jill.

Knowing I couldn’t stay here sniffing him all morning, although the thought did hold merit, I try to remove myself again. This time he tightened his grip to the point that I squeal out in pain, then he jack knifes up taking me with him. Trying not to cry in his presence, he seems to shake himself of the pre-wake fog, looks down at his hand gripping me like a vice, then pushes me away like I’m contagious. When my ass hits the floor with a thump, he backs away until he hits the wall yet it appears it still wasn’t far enough for him.

Meh. I’ve had worse reactions.

“I hurt you,” he growls looking sick with himself. Told you, honorable.

“I’m okay,” I whisper hoping the tears won’t fall because even though I know he didn’t mean to do it, it’s still going to leave a mark and for some stupid reason I bruise easily.

“Don’t come near me when I’m asleep ever again,” he mumbles, walking out of the room and slamming the door to the bathroom. Getting up myself I decided to give the big guy a wide berth and let him work out his issues alone. I don’t know why I attached myself to him but I did and I had no right to. Just because he smelled like home didn’t mean he’d laid out the welcome mat for me. Staring at the wall he’d been holding up, I’ll admit this behavior was out of character for me. I enjoyed men, most of the time. However, I didn’t make it a habit to crash out on strangers chests either. Hitting the ‘on’ button for my Keurig, wanting to forget the weird wake up call, I check my email and my calendar then when I see my answering machine blinking, I hit play. Yes, I was one of those weirdo’s that had an answering machine. They were reliable and for some reason I loved having something everyone else threw away.

Sipping my coffee, I have the privilege of hearing Peter’s message with an audience.

Dumped via answering machine, oh how perfect. Resting my head on my hand I had to admit I wasn’t surprised by it, knew it was a matter of time, even. In fact, when I offered Mr. mean and bitchy my place, I was heading to Ann Arbor to dump Peter in person, like a grown up.

“I was gonna erase that,” he says, leaning against the refrigerator looking uncomfortably sexy. “None of my business, though.”

“So you heard,” I mumble. “That’s not humiliating.”

“Sounds like a bitch.”

“Pretty much,” I say smiling into my cup at feeling the same way. “Not my problem anymore, though. Plus he saved me the money in gas, the dick.”

“Fixed the lock I broke.”

“Thanks,” I tell him. “Since I’ve been dumped electronically, I’m home this weekend and that makes you a lucky guy. Since you’re stuck with me unless you’ve made other plans, I need a name to go with the scowl.”

“Scowl?”

“Yeah it’s what you do when you look at me.”

“Name’s Loyal.”

“Loyal what?”

“Is my first name,” he says rolling his eyes.

“What’s your last name Loyal?”

“Hart.”

“Loyal Hart,” I say testing it out and found that I really liked it. It was unique, like the person. Walking over and grabbing him a cup to have coffee with me I say, “I’m Rion Reynolds but my friends call me Junior.”

“I’m not your friend,” he says totally ignoring the cup I’m holding out for him.

“If we aren’t friends then what are we?”

“Temporary,” was all he said as he grabbed his bag and left me standing in my kitchen looking like a fool twice in one morning.

Speaking to the ceiling, I try calling on my patience. “What have I gotten myself into this time, Senior?” When I don’t get an answer, I look at the door he just walked through wondering why the place felt smaller all of a sudden and if I was offering a second chance, would he even be willing to take it? God, hot and cold much? He breaks into my office, acquaints my face to my desk, fixes my lock, helps me through my headache, bruises my arm then snuffs me.

And here I thought I had problems…

‘You don't know what people are really like until they're under a lot of stress.’

~Tim Allen

Not having a car is problematic. I have a truck back in Missouri but when all the shit went down, grabbing it was the least of my concerns. Now I find myself on foot and I’m pissed off about it. Walking a half mile to a party store, I try getting cash out but my account was empty. Of fucking course it was. It’s not enough that over the years she bled me dry, she had to kick me while I was down too.

All these years of serving my country for God and man, I’ve got jack to show for it. Now I’m stuck in hell with a gorgeous woman who’s too fucking nice for her own god damn good and I put my hands on her in thanks. Watching her listen to that message was painful. Shouldn’t be, I don’t know her, but I didn’t like that someone did her wrong. She didn’t deserve that. The female was dealing with enough shit as it was, now my bullshit and that asshole. Not letting it affect her, she made me a cup of coffee and that simple act bothered me so much, I left her standing there looking stupid.

She’ll need to get over it because I have no time for a woman wearing a false face. Because she was, they all do. I’ve seen it play out like a movie on repeat with the guys in my unit. They fall for the chick, give her everything while they’re away trying to do good, because they also feel like shit for not being there. Only to come home to a cheating whore who blames you for everything, then leaves you with nothing. Rion is no different than any other chick. They’re all lying whores. She just started off nice.

I don’t want to be stuck at her place any longer than necessary. Grabbing a paper, I knew I needed a job. Getting my own coffee from the gas station then heading back, I’m disappointed she wasn’t there but got the hell over it. Sitting down on the couch I open the paper and begin to look for work. About ten minutes in, I crumble it and throw it across the room. No car, no job.

Fuck.

I hear her door open and close across the hall, which tempts me to go and talk to her, but I don’t. I’m not apologizing for what I said. She needs to know that outside of crashing here for a few days, I don’t want to know her and I especially don’t want to like her. Looking at my hands I realize they’re shaking again. That is if they ever stopped shaking in the first place. Fuck, but I could have seriously hurt her. I may not want to like her, but I did, in fact hurt her and if I do anything, it’s to make sure that it doesn’t happen again. When I hear yelling, I jump up, throw the door open prepared to protect her when I hear her voice though, I stop.

“What was I supposed to do, Rio?” she asks.

“Walk away,” he says in a booming voice. “You have enough problems, Junior, taking in strays was Senior’s thing. You can’t afford to do this, not to mention he’s a fucking stranger. Since you were a kid you did shit like this. Dogs, cats, that guy over on Porter that stole your bike as a thank you and now a squatter? The fuck is the matter with you?”

“Do you or do you not like working here?”

“What?”

“You heard me,” she says, then he’s silent for a second before lowering his voice to her. “This place is my life, you know that Junior. I can’t worry about you? I get it, you’re stressed but think for a second! Your old man was huge into charity cases and look where that got him, he put you in debt.”

“First,” she says, while I listen with my ear to the door, “he is not a charity case. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Second, he took a chance on you and I was raised to do the same. The man across the hall needs my help whether he wants it or not. If he doesn’t, fine, but I can say that I tried. But he needs a break, Rio and I’m offering it to him. If anyone gets that, it should be
you
.”

“You’re making a mistake,” he says. “That man beat the shit out of two of your newest employees.”

“True,” she says in agreement. “But they were also cops once and should have fucking known better than to let their guard down. Lesson learned, now move on.”

“This is a huge fucking mistake, write that down so I can remind you later. I gotta go collect, Junior,” he says, so I move away from the door to go back across the hall. “He’s a stranger, he hurts you, I kill
him,
remember that.”

From behind the safety of her apartment door now, I listen as he exits stomping down the hall. When it’s clear, I make my way over to her then knock on the door.

“It’s open,” she calls out and even before I enter, I note that she sounds exhausted.

Seeing her today, behind that desk was a kick straight in the balls. How does she keep getting better looking? I do not fucking get it. If I thought she was gorgeous yesterday I had to have been looking at her with blinders on. Today she all but fucking glows. No way can I try and get me some of that shine. I won’t when I know I’ll only shroud her in darkness.

“Got a minute?”

“Got two,” she says, gesturing for me to sit, but I don’t. “What’s up?”

“I’ll be gone the second I have a job. I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me here. You need me gone sooner, say so. You ain’t got to tell me twice,” I tell her bluntly, but then I see her pinching her nose. “Head hurt again?”

“What?” she asks looking shocked. “No, I’m fine.”

“You’re a liar, then?”

“Did you need something, Loyal?” Hearing her say my name did funny things to me, like asking her to repeat it. I didn’t like it one bit. “What’s wrong with you that you get these headaches?”

“That’s easy, I need to collect. I can’t do that with one enforcer. Three quit and the other two are indisposed thanks to you. Now I’ll have to collect myself, because again,
I’m broke
. If I’m collecting, then I’m not taking bets. See where this is going?”

“You got no business out there getting money from people. No place for a woman, especially you.”

“Especially me? Care to explain that?”

“No,” I tell her crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t.”

“I started taking bets in elementary school. I did it in high school, through college and even at work. That’s probably frowned upon, but whatever. I made more money betting than I did at the job anyway. Betting is my life, Loyal. Save the ‘you have a vagina so you’re not my equal’ speech for someone else. Beep… The vagina you’re trying to reach is no longer in service. Get it? It was like we were on the phone. Okay, I thought it was hilarious.”

“We ain’t equals and making books ain’t a job. Least not for you. You said your old man raised you to place bets? Can’t say that’s a good old man.” That may have been the wrong thing to say. Without blinking, she reaches under her desk, produces that 9mm and aims it right at me with a look of pure fury. It didn’t go unnoticed by me that while my hands won’t stop shaking hers weren’t shaking at all.

“Get out,” she growls, never lowering her arm, even while her eyes pinch in pain. “Get your shit and get the fuck out. Now.”

Backing away, I turn and leave without a word. What was there to say? Her life was not my business. I knew that, but I opened my mouth anyway. Closing her apartment door, I grabbed my bag to leave as she ordered when she burst through the door looking for vengeance.

She was scary beautiful when she was pissed. It was a shame I had to leave like this, I wouldn’t mind seeing her like this more often. But I had to wonder if I provoked her any further would she shoot me? Part of me wanted her to do it because the second she let it fly, she’d feel like shit about it then she’d take care of me.

No lie, the thought held appeal.