SHAY:

For the next two days, I was in a permanent bad mood. Greg kept trying to talk to me, and Kylie kept trying to analyze ‘B’.

Yup, I was back to not using his damn name.

Ever.

I was still fuming to the point where Tabasco sauce from Lousisaina had nothing on me. My face said it all and my body language stayed in fight mode.

Pissed was an understatement.

“Let it go,” Kylie kept saying. “I know you, you're concentrating about how to pay his ass back. Let it go.”

“It's gone,” I replied a little too quickly.

It wasn't and it wouldn't.

That man would pay. I mean, the fucking nerve to insult me. To my face! In front of the guy I used to fuck!

Oh, his ass would pay.

“You're not letting it go. Should I get the bail bond money ready?”

Normally, I would laugh but she just might need to start saving.

“He's going to pay, Kylie,” I admitted. “His ass is going to pay.”

“Girl, I know you don't want to hear this, but I think he is paying already. Razor was at ...”

As she was talking, I happened to look out the cloudy window and saw my nemesis. That son of a bitch was walking down my street in broad daylight.

“I got to go. Speak of the goddamn devil and he shall come.” I started hanging up the office phone when I heard, “Shay, don't do anything crazy.”

Too goddamn late.

I looked out the window of the second floor, and the man whose name began with a B was strolling down the street like he owned the town. This was my street, my town and he didn't own shit.

My feet raced down the stairs as I yelled to Charlie that I was going on a smoke break.

It was three o’clock on a Thursday afternoon and the few stragglers around were not paying any attention to me as I raced down the street after him.

When I got closer, I yelled, “Bronx, you son of a bitch.”

He stopped and slowly turned around to face me, which was great because I was approximately five feet away when I lunged at him.

Well, I thought I did, but when I opened my eyes the front of my body was pressed against a brick wall as a scorching heat sizzled my back.

“Let me go, you son of a bitch,” I screamed.

The heat rose up my back and reached my face when I felt the rough three-day-old beard against my cheek with his lips to my ear.

“Told you, you keep laying your hands on me, I would tie you up and spank your ass. You want that?”

“Get your fucking hands off of me!” I screamed.

He exhaled, then Bronx said with his lips still at my ear. “Shay, I was wrong, and I'm sorry about the other day. I shouldn't have taken that out on you.”

Whoa!

Now, that was not something I expected from him.

At all.

I actually didn't know what to say, but when my mouth said, “Why?” I let it hang out there.

Bronx exhaled again but this time, I could feel his chest rise and fall against my back.

“Shay, you broke my heart, and I was hurt. Plain and simple.”

I could feel his hot breath on my face as his words hit their target.

My broken heart.

As I processed and attempted to gather my thoughts so I could respond, Bronx did just like he used to do in his boxing days. Delivered the blow and was off.

I broke his heart.

What in the fuck?

******

“WAIT, HE SAID WHAT?” Kylie asked.

“You heard me right.” My chest felt like it was on fire as I raced to figure out what to wear.

That's not why my chest hurt, but if we were late for dinner, my parents would kill both of us.

“Well, that's what I was trying to tell you earlier. I think he is suffering too. Razor said he was outside his condo most of the night because he was tearing everything apart after you guys got into it at Peppers. You guys should talk.”

“Kylie. Love you like my own sister, but I swear to God, don’t say I need to talk to him again.” I exhaled. “We talked and he made it clear how he felt.”

“No, Shay. Don't you dare turn this around. What he said was you broke his heart.”

“Nooo,” I corrected. “What he said before that is I was good at fucking people, kicking them out of my bed and never talking to them again.” I was done with this conversation. “Look, are you on your way? My clothes are dirty and I can't find shit to wear.”

Silence met me over the phone.

“Kylie?” I called.

“I'm here.”

“Did you hear my question?”

“Yeah, I heard you change the subject and yes, I'm fifteen minutes out from your parents, so hurry the hell up.”

The line went dead.

Such a bitch.

******

DINNER WAS JUST AS expected, except for my parent’s reaction to Kylie’s clothes. This woman walked in my childhood house with a yellow, flare sundress, a white sweater, and white sandals with straps that went to her ankles. The dress came to her knees, and her blond hair was twisted up in the front and hung low in the back.

“Well, good night,” my mom howled.

“Ah, my man Razor is domesticating you.” My dad hit the table. “I'm going to have to buy him a drink.”

Kylie and I laughed so hard that tears were rolling down our faces.

My dad stood and pulled her in for a hug. “Girl, you look good.”

My mom started wiping her eyes, then looked to the both of us. “Oh God. My babies are growing up.”

My eyes rolled.

“Mom, we are in our thirties.”

“Oh, hush,” she sniffled and pulled Kylie in for an embrace. “I can have my moment.”

Kylie mumbled against her shoulder, “It's just a dress.”

I hugged my mom and we sat down for dinner.

My parents were not strict, but they were fair. My dad was an OB/GYN, and everybody went to him except Kylie and me. He was a big burly man, grew up in Lancaster County and loved the state of Pennsylvania. My mom was a paralegal, who worked out of Harrisburg, but had to help out with an investigation for a case at the hospital. She kept getting derailed by a medical student at the time, which turned out to be my dad. They had a head to head moment or as they called it ‘a heated discussion’ and the rest was history. Enemies became friends, fell in love and had their beautiful daughter, Sharon Russell, according to my parents.

When dinner was over, the house phone rang, causing my mom to flee to the kitchen. She still used the house phone as the primary source of communication. My mom’s flip phone only came out when she ‘travelled’. Once she returned, she looked at me and asked, “Have you heard from Dessy?”

“No, not since last month. Why, what's up?”

“That was your Aunt Rachel.” She sat down. “Apparently, Dessy got hooked up with the wrong guy, and now she’s missing or on the run with him.”

“Damned shame,” my dad muttered.

“I’ll say. Rachel doesn’t know what to do with herself. The police are saying they can’t go looking for her until after forty-eight hours, but this is just crazy.”

“I’ll see if I can get a hold of her. She was telling me about some place she sometimes goes near Millersville.” I was thinking out loud.

Kylie elbowed me. “I can ask Razor to get Guardian help?”

She was nudging me to see if that was cool.

“Not yet,” my dad interjected. “Dessy has done things like this before, and I’d rather make sure it’s legit before we call in the cavalry.”

“Yeah, I agree,” I chimed in.

Dessy was known for stirring the pot. She was in her late twenties and a little too old for playing games, but somehow she still managed to hook up with the wrong guys, wrong jobs, and even the wrong friends. And all of those things led to shit like this. I wasn’t sure what she needed to do to change her life around, but I wished when she left Harrisburg, she’d start fresh.

“Okay, just let me know and I’ll ask.” Kylie nodded.

“Will do,” I said.

Kylie went home to Razor and I went to my humble abode, even on a Friday night. I really liked my place.  It suited me perfectly, especially since I didn’t live with my parents. How Lori did that was beyond me. Living with my parents, Patricia and Paul Russell, after the age of twenty-one would have been a nightmare. Hell, living with them after the age of eighteen was a test of my patience. They weren’t strict, but they were parents. Hence my security system, commenting on what I wore and even my friends.

Absolutely too much.

After catching up on the Walking Dead, I passed out around two in the morning and only thirty minutes later, my house phone started to ring non-stop. I almost never answered that phone, but I needed it for my security system and cable company.

“Yeah,” I said as I picked up.

“Shay?” a whisper came across the phone.

“Yeah.” I was in full bitch-mode.

“It’s me, Dessy. I’m in some trouble and need your help.”

“Girl, where are you? Your mom called my mom tonight. She’s worried.” I knifed up on the couch, no longer feeling sluggish.

“It’s a long story, but I had to go. Fuck, I should have left a long time ago. The Burg is no place for me.” She sighed. “I just need to get the fuck outta here.”

“Yeah, Dessy.” I agreed. “What are you going to do?”

“Can I stay with you a bit?” she asked, then rushed to say, “I promise to get a job, pull my weight and stay outta trouble. I swear on everything, Shay. You won’t have to worry about me. I can’t deal with this shit anymore.”

Holy shit.

I sighed. “Dessy, I know we’re family, but I need you to understand something. If you bring trouble to my house, we will have a problem.”

“I swear, I won’t tell a soul Shay. I’ve deleted all my accounts and shit. Even changed my number. I’m done.” She sounded on the verge of tears.

“Dessy, let me be clear. Family or not, I will put your ass out,” I reiterated.

“Shay, believe me. I know,” she breathed. “You won’t have any problems from me.”

“O-kay,” I said in a warning tone. “I’ll let my parents know so your parents will know you're safe, but that’s it.”

“Cool. Okay.” She exhaled loudly.

“Where are you now?”

“Outside your door,” Dessy murmured.

“What?” I asked. “How did you get here?”

“Hitchhiked.”

More murmuring.

This girl had more kahunas than me.

What the fuck did I get myself into?