Twenty-six
Jonah
“I think I might puke.” Raven rubs her stomach, a grimace etched into her gorgeous face. She’s made herself sick worrying about meeting my mom. I couldn’t even get her to eat breakfast.
I wonder if any of her nerves this morning are leftover from her breakdown last night. I’d never seen a person go from rat-shit mad to completely unglued. When I overheard her laughing in the bathroom, I realized she’d reached her breaking point. I knew I needed to bring her back—to pull her from her hysterics and place her gently back into her skin.
Her skin.
My dick twitches at the memory of her slowly sliding off that dress, each sliver of delicate flesh, beckoning for my touch—the way her body responded immediately to the slightest brush of my fingers, opening to my unspoken request. Erotic flashes of her legs wrapped around my body flood my mind. Heat radiates from the red marks on my back left by her shoes. Watching the reflection of our bodies tangled together is forever branded into my memory.
A groan bubbles up from my throat, and Raven turns her attention toward me with narrowed eyes, throwing me from my sexy daydream. Her eyes get big at the sound of a mumbled voice over the airport’s loudspeaker.
“What’d he say? Was that it? Did they just announce her flight? I think that’s her flight,” she says, her eyes dart around the baggage claim carousel where we’ve been waiting for the last fifteen minutes.
Raven bounces on her toes like a kid who has to pee. My lips pull up. “Maybe you shouldn’t have had that fourth cup of coffee this morning.”
“She’s not going to like me. She probably wants you with some sweet, homey girl who, you know, bakes or loves scrapbooking, not a car mechanic who can’t even microwave popcorn.” She looks around like she’s mapping out an escape.
“You kick ass with a microwave, baby. Don’t sell yourself short.”
She glares at me, but her mouth ticks with the shadow of a smile.
“Baby, she’s going to love you. Trust me. Now stop jumping around like a fucking pogo-stick and come here.”
I throw my arm over her shoulder and she leans into me. Her muscles relax as my fingers trace along her skin.
“Excuse me, ‘Assassin’?”
A tall, awkward boy in the throes of puberty approaches us.
“Yeah.”
He shuffles his feet and avoids my eyes. He’s taller than Raven, but lanky. His messy brown hair hangs over his black-rimmed glasses. Printed in bold letters, his bright yellow shirt reads Stephen King is my Homeboy. I stifle a laugh.
“I thought it was you.” He flips a pen in his hand. “I’m a big fan. I’ve seen all your fights.” His voice cracks. “That take down against ‘Pit Bull’ Perez in oh-nine was the best I’d ever seen. I know you’re going to beat Del Toro tomorrow.
Raven gasps, and her grip tightens on the back of my shirt.
“I can’t wait to see the look on Del Toro’s face when you hold up that belt.”
You and me both, kid. Pride in my ability as a fighter, and anger for my inability to prove it, battle for dominance in my head.
“Thanks, man. I appreciate your support.” This kid’s got the height and the know-how. From the looks of his worn jeans, ratty shoes, and . . . everything else, I’d guess he gets his fair share of assholes at school fucking with him. That’s all any good fighter needs. Fuel. “You know your stuff. Any interest in fighting for the UFL?”
“Humph, I wish.” He shrugs and runs the back of his hand across his forehead, making his glasses lopsided. “My mom says I’m too weak for sports.” He scrunches his nose to straighten the frames on his face.
“What are you? About a buck fifty?”
“Just about.”
“You start training, pack on a little muscle. You’d be a perfect welterweight.”
His smile is so big that it looks as if it may break his face. “You really think so?”
“Think so? I know so.”
“Wow. Thanks, ‘Assassin.’” He stares at me, but his glazed eyes tell me he’s in his head. Probably picturing himself as a fighter five years down the road. He blinks. “Oh! Can I get your autograph?”
He hands me a black sharpie marker and turns around, motioning for me to sign his t-shirt.
“Sure, what’s your name?”
“Killian.”
“No shit?” Great name for a fighter.
“Yeah.” The backs of his ears turn bright red. “It’s Irish.”
I write a quick message on the shoulder of his shirt.
Killer Killian,
No one dictates your future but you.
The Assassin
I pop on the cap and hand Killian his pen.
“Good luck tomorrow night.” He stands a little taller, his voice more confident.
“You start training, you hear me?”
He smiles, nods, then turns and walks away.
Raven’s head burrows deeper into my chest. I instinctively pull her closer. Her arms wrap around my waist and she’s no longer bouncing and jittery. “That was sweet. You’re great with your fans.”
I kiss her head. “Yeah, well, they’ve been really good to me.”
But will they ever forgive me for letting them down?
“He seemed pretty confident that you’d win the fight tomorrow.” Her voice is almost a whisper as her arms tighten around my waist.
I school my voice and try to be as convincing as I can. “Look, I don’t want you to worry about this fight. Everything will go as planned. I’ll get another shot at the title in a year, maybe two. It’s just one fight. Okay?” The truth is I’m disappointed I won’t be destroying Del Toro in front of a live audience tomorrow. But in this situation, the prize for losing outweighs the heavyweight title.
I search the room again for my mom. We fall into silence for a few minutes until I spot a familiar smile in the crowd.
“There she is.” I lift my chin in her direction.
“Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh.” It seems Raven’s calm demeanor was nothing more than an intermission. She’s back to bouncing.
“Joey, my baby!”
My mom rushes to us, dropping her bags and throwing her arms around my waist. At a generous five foot five, she’s been hugging me around the waist since I was sixteen. It’s been a few months since I saw her last, but she looks the same: Dark hair without a hint of gray, styled to perfection. Her fashionable clothes, pristine makeup, and designer bag making her seem younger than her fifty-three years. Yep, hasn’t changed a bit.
“Mom. This is my girl, Raven. Raven, this is my mom.”
Pulling back, she takes a side step and grabs both of Raven’s hands. “It’s so nice to meet you, Raven. You’re just as beautiful as Joey described.”
“Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Slade.”
“Please, call me Katherine.”
“Thank you, ma’am . . . um, Katherine.”
With Raven’s hands still in her grasp, my mom looks at me. “You did good, son. She’s beautiful and polite.”
“Yeah, she is.” I shake my head. “I still can’t believe you thought I was gay.”
Raven stares at me aghast while my mom shakes her head and smiles.
Dropping her hands, my mom slips her arm into the crook at Raven’s elbow. “Come on, dear. Let me tell you about the time when my Joey was four and he ran around the front yard naked pretending to be a superhero called Super Weenie Man.”
“Shit, Ma.”
Raven giggles.
“Watch that mouth, Joey. You’re in the presence of ladies.”
Grabbing her bags, I walk behind two of the three women I love the most in the world.
***
“Jonah, wait up!”
I’m heading into the training center, after dropping my mom and Raven off at my house, when Blake’s voice causes an about face. I have a quick training session and a short meeting I need to wrap up so I can get back to them for dinner.
“What’s up, Blake?”
“Dude, we got problems.”
We’re standing on the sidewalk outside the training center’s doors, and Blake looks around like he’s checking for snipers.
“Ah, shit. What now?”
“Okay, I was at Zeus’s last night and I ended up hooking up with this new girl, Sherry, or Terry . . . Mary?” His eyes go skyward as he scratches his cheek and shakes his head. “Whatever. She mentioned that a guy—”
“Zeus’s? I thought you tagged Camille last night?”
His body freezes. “Camille! I can’t believe you unleashed that crazy . . .” He closes his eyes and rubs his temples as if to organize his thoughts. His eyes open and he glares at me. “We’re gonna talk about that, but first the stripper.”
I nod, unable to manage the smile that is wreaking havoc on my face. It’s not often Blake has issues with girls.
“So, the stripper,” he continues, “told me a guy named Dominick had offered her a job as an escort. I guess she thought that’d impress me.” He rolls his eyes. “Anyway, she told me a few of the girls accepted his offer and—”
“You gonna get to the point where you tell me what the fuck this has to do with me?”
“Dude, listen. And stop interrupting. Shit.” He folds his arms across his chest, hangs his head, and blows out a frustrated breath. “I asked her who accepted his offer. She said she wasn’t sure, but that more than a few were interested.”
“So? I don’t give a shit what Dominick does. As long as he leaves Raven out of it.”
“The new girl told me she overheard a convo in the dressing room. Dominick’s hiring for a special job. One that takes place the night of the fight. At The Mandalay Bay Arena. You think that shit’s a coincidence?”
“Maybe he needs some fresh girls for all the high-rollers that’ll be hitting up the fight. Dominick has to know better than to fuck with me on fight night. I’m going to be making him a rich man.” Or, a richer man.
“I’ve got a really bad feeling about this,” Blake mumbles.
There’s nothing I can say. This whole situation sucks. The only thought that brings me peace is that, by Sunday, Raven will be all mine and we can move on with our lives. I rub my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose to soothe the throbbing headache this conversation brought on.
“Remind me when I decide to settle down to find a girl without baggage. Preferably one with no family.” He holds up his hand and starts ticking off fingers with each stipulation. “No kids, ex-husbands, psycho dads, fucking skeletons in the closet. None of that shit.”
“It’s gonna take a special girl to put up with your ass, Blake. You got no room to be picky.”
“I’m serious, man.” He points at the ground. “I’d rather stay single my entire life, banging anyone who can keep up, than take on some chick with issues. You can tattoo that on my ass if you don’t believe me.”
The serious mask on his face tightens into a scowl. “Oh, and thanks a lot for pushing that crazy bitch Camille on me last night. I got her in the elevator, just about to do her, and you know what she said?”
I shrug. I’m still pissed at that chick for upsetting Raven, but I have to give her credit for freaking Blake out.
“She said if I wanted to get up in there, I had to prove myself.” His voice pitches high. “She said I had to submit her to the ground before she’d let me fuck her. I’m looking to get off, and she wants jiu-jitsu foreplay. Who does that shit?”
Unable to hold it in a second longer, laughter bursts from my mouth.
“It’s not funny, man. It’s whacked. I had blue balls for two hours before Kerri, or whatever the fuck her name was, at the strip club got me off.”
“I can’t believe you couldn’t get a submission on a girl. Maybe they can open up a spot for you on their team. Teach you a thing or two.”
Blake’s look of disgust only makes me laugh harder.
“Oh, real nice. You’re a dick, you know that?” He stomps off and through the doors.
~*~
Raven
“So, Raven, tell me about your family. Does your mom live here in town?”
Water spews from my mouth. I choke and gasp for air.
“Oh, goodness, honey, are you okay?” Katherine hands me a dishtowel and pats me on the back.
She’s been busy making dinner and filling me in on Jonah’s milestones growing up. The subject change took me by surprise.
“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you. Just went down the wrong pipe.”
“You scared me.”
You think that scared you? Ask me again about my mom.
I’m not happy about opening the closet doors to my soul and revealing my dark secrets to the one person in the world I want to like me. But, I can’t lie to Jonah’s mom either. She’s going to find out eventually, and what will she think then? If I plan on being a part of Jonah’s life, I need to be honest, upfront. What’s that saying? The truth will set you free. More like the truth will keep you single.
She’s cutting vegetables, oblivious to the fact that I’m about to drop a bomb directly on to her sweet head. Maybe she’ll forget if I change the subject.
“So, you were telling me about your parents?”
Too late.
I’ll talk around it. That will give her enough to be satisfied, and I won’t have to tell her the ugly truth.
“My mom lives in town, yes, and so does my . . . um . . . my dad.” Saying the word makes me want to spit to clean out the dirty.
“Are they still married?” Her questions are so casual and every day. Nothing more than a little small talk with the girl who’s dating her son. Boy, is she in for a surprise.
Just get it over with! It’ll be easier that way.
I bite my lip, working up my nerve. “Uh, no, they were never, um, married.”
This sucks.
“Oh, that’s too bad. What do they do? For work?” Her eyes are fixed on the task before her, chopping and dumping into a bowl.
“My mom is in sales.” Please, let that be enough. My stomach churns. This already feels like a lie.
“What does she sell?
My shoulders slump in defeat. Might as well get it over with. I check the clock on the microwave. Jonah should be home soon. I wish he were here now.
“Herself. My mom is a call girl.”
Her chopping ceases and she turns toward me, the question burning in her eyes. “Call center girl?”
I scrub my face with my hand. “Call girl.”
Katherine’s knife drops on the counter with a clang. Her eyes are huge and her mouth moves, but no sound comes out.
I’m not finished yet. “Her pimp . . . well, he’s my . . . my uh . . . he got her pregnant.”
She adds head shaking to the list of silent responses.
“I don’t . . . or, um, never had a relationship with either of them.” I exhale a long breath.
There. I did it.
My teeth rake over my lower lip. I count the tiles on the floor. Silent seconds tick. I prepare for the speech about my being trash and no good for her son. I straighten my spine, ready for her attack on my character. Dragging my eyes to meet hers, I lurch in shock.
Her eyes are the exact shade of Jonah’s. And just like Jonah, filled with compassion. Not judgment. I relax a fraction under their gaze.
“That’s an incredible story.” Her voice is gentle and calms my nerves. “You must have been through a lot growing up. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you.” She picks up my hand and holds it in hers. “You know what you are, Raven?”
I shake my head no, fearing that my voice will break the consoling cocoon her words provide. I’m desperate to know.
What am I?
“You’re like that single wild flower that grows from the crack in the pavement: miraculous growth with no water source or fertile soil. A person walking by would step around that flower to avoid crushing it. It’s not like the field of wild flowers you tromp through carelessly, crushing them under your feet, knowing that the next day will bring a hundred more.”
She pauses to place her hand on my cheek. “You’ve managed a life through your obstacles. It may be a lonely life, but a life nonetheless. Surviving is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s something to be proud of.”
She sees me as worthy. Not a weight in Jonah’s life, but special. A miracle.
I want to express what her words mean to me, but can’t organize my emotions fast enough. Tears pool in my eyes. I blink, and they overflow as her speech runs on repeat in my head, leeching out the poison left behind in my soul.
She brings a kitchen towel to my face and wipes my tears. Her kind smile is more than I can handle and I sob.
“Oh, honey.” She pulls me into her arms. I’m completely lost in her embrace. She holds me tight, speaking words into my hair about strength and release.
My cheek presses into her shoulder, soaking her shirt with my tears. I startle when a pair of strong arms pull me away from her. So deep in my sorrow, I didn’t hear him come in. The familiar smell of citrus and spice relax my muscles, and I bury myself into Jonah’s chest.
“Mom. What the fuck happened?” Anger laces his voice.
I can’t see Katherine’s face, but her whispered, “It’s okay, Joey” has him relaxing against me. He takes a deep breath and holds me until I calm.
“Baby?” He kisses my head and rubs my back.
I lean away from Jonah, but he keeps his arms tightly around my waist. I wipe my face, feeling exposed and embarrassed. “Sorry. It’s stupid—”
“No, Raven, don’t do that. Don’t belittle your strength with embarrassment. You have nothing to be ashamed of.” Katherine’s eyes are wet with tears.
I nod and simply say the only thing I can, “Thank you, Katherine.”
Staring at Jonah’s neck, I’m unable to lift my gaze, fearing what I might see in his eyes.
“Hey. Look at me.”
I brave a glance.
He’s smiling tenderly, bringing forth both dimples. “You okay?”
I nod.
“Right.” He kisses my lips, then the tip of my nose, and finally my forehead.
“My son is lucky to have you, Raven. I’m very proud of him, and I’m equally proud of you.”
Warmth floods my chest, flowing into my cheeks and pulling on my lips. I look from Katherine to Jonah.
“You girls have fun today?” He doesn’t take his eyes from mine. His voice is soft and I appreciate the change to a happier subject.
We hang out in the kitchen while Katherine puts the finishing touches on dinner. Jonah steals pieces of food off the counter and she slaps his hand. For the first time, I see Jonah as a boy while he playfully teases his mom. I laugh as she reprimands him for drinking milk straight from the carton. She fills him in on his sister and her husband. He laughs at the stories about his nephews getting into trouble.
I’m nothing more than a spectator to this beautiful display of family. I watch in silence as envy piggybacks my happiness.
After a delicious meal, I excuse myself to clean the kitchen so Jonah and his mom can have some time alone. Drying the last dish and putting it away, I head straight to Jonah’s garage for some quiet time with the Impala.
With my hair pulled back, I plug the iPod into the dock and allow the music to wash through my body, taking with it the multitude of conflicted emotions tumbling in my chest.
Some of the music from Jonah’s iPod is familiar, but one song catches my attention. I read the name on the screen as “Halo” by Beyonce. It seems Beyonce knows a thing or two about my situation, as her words become my heart’s anthem. I put the song on repeat and turn back to the car to bury myself in work.
Lost in the combination of my work and the music, I jump at the sound of the door opening. How long have I been in here?
“I knew I’d find you here.” He wraps me in a hug. His body is warm and comforting.
“I wanted to give you and your mom some time alone. I thought I’d come out here until she went to bed.”
He sits on the hood of the Impala, propping his heels on the bumper and pulling me between his legs.
“My mom is in love with you.” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “She flat out told me that if I didn’t marry you she’d disown me. I think she likes you more than she likes me.”
My cheeks warm. “She’s incredible, Jonah.”
“I’m glad you think so. You know, I was kinda hoping that someday she’d be your mother-in-law.”
My eyes flash to his and a slow smile pulls at my lips. Holy crud. Is he asking what I think he’s asking?
“Whaddya say? You feel like droppin’ Morretti for good?”