Rone
Rone couldn’t count the number of times he’d pulled up in front of Jay’s house. Even the curb, with its crumbling corner and the weeds growing up through the cracks, were familiar. He put his truck in gear and killed the ignition. The sound of his breaths, even and measured, filled up the cab space.
After the fight, he’d taken a couple days off work to heal. Heather wanted to take time off from her own job, but he insisted she go. He didn’t want her to have to look after his sorry ass. He knew full well that the fact he looked like a punching bag and that it was her brother who had handed out the beating, didn’t sit well with her. She’d wanted to march right over to Jay’s house and demand that he apologize, but he made sure she cooled her jets. It wasn’t her battle any longer.
No, it was just him and Jay. He should have come in the first place and spared Heather any involvement. She might have had to see the aftermath, but at least she wouldn’t have been standing right there when the fight went down.
He didn’t need a steadying breath as he climbed out of his truck and marched up to the front door. He had a damn key for the place, but he might as well throw that down the storm drain off to the left. Jay had probably changed the locks anyway. It seemed like something he would do.
Though Rone didn’t see Jay’s truck parked in front, he raised his hand and knocked. He waited. Nothing happened. The door didn’t open. There wasn’t a sound from inside. Rone wondered if Jay had seen him coming and he was just ignoring him. His truck could be parked in the back. Just to be sure, he rang the bell a couple times.
He was pretty sure, after a few minutes of hanging out on the doorstep, that Jay wasn’t actually home. It was a Wednesday night and Jay didn’t normally go out, but who knew? He felt out of tune with everything that was going on with the guy and that was long before the whole Heather thing came between them. Jay was just so damn disconnected. It was like he put absolutely no feeling into anything at all. He was content to walk through life like a damn zombie. Or more correctly, he was just into fucking and fighting his way through.
Rone had a feeling he knew where his best friend, or more realistically, ex-best friend, was. Thoughts like that made him feel like he was five years old and he and Jay had one of their fights. At least that was normally sorted out after school. They used to bloody each other all the time. Usually it ended at that. Whatever was bothering them was solved the instant someone drew blood. A good pounding on each other usually worked out whatever was between them.
A frustrated sigh escaped Rone’s throat as he stalked back to his truck. He hoisted himself in and winced when his ass hit the seat. His ribs, though not broken, still smarted every time he moved. Walking was alright, but anything more than that ushered him into a world of pain.
His truck fired up with a growl and he was off, driving towards the bar that Jay loved to hang out at. It had never been his thing, but he’d gone along with it for Jay’s sake. That’s what he thought friends did for each other.
Ironically enough, the fight had the exact opposite effect Jay hoped for. He wanted Rone to stay away from Heather, but instead Heather had been over at his house constantly since the fight. She’d brought over some clothes, even her toothbrush. She’d stayed every night since then and though they hadn’t done anything but lay tangled up in his bed, the intimacy they shared was deeper than it ever had been. She left for work from his house and came home. He cooked for them and offered her rides, which she turned down. It was almost like they were a damn couple already. After so many years of being around each other, being together actually felt far more natural than being apart.
The parking lot of the bar that Jay frequented was almost deserted. There were two cars parked in the many spaces in the asphalt lot. Jay’s truck stood out like a sore thumb.
Rone muttered an expletive under his breath as he parked his truck next to Jay’s. He slid out, hoping like hell that Jay would decide not to cause a scene. The last thing he wanted was to start some fight in the middle of a bar.
The minute Rone strolled inside, Jay’s head cranked around. He was sitting in the usual booth, nursing a pint, totally alone. With his long hair snarled around his shoulders, a thick growth of stubble dotting his jaw and black smudges under his eyes, he looked like a train wreck.
The black vinyl padding on the booth groaned as Rone sunk into the seat opposite of Jay. Jay looked up, eyes bleary. Once he registered who was there, he snarled. He looked like a damn venomous snake about to strike.
“Whoa there.” Rone put up his hands. “I’m here unarmed, man. I just want to talk.”
“What you want is another ass kicking. Clearly.”
“No. We seriously need to talk. We’ve both cooled down now. We can be adults and sort this out, can’t we?”
“No. There isn’t anything to sort out. You fucked my sister. That’s the lowest of low blows, Rone. I don’t want to see your face or hear your name ever again. Now fuck off out of here before I get in the mood to beat you into a pulp again.”
Rone rolled his eyes. “This time if you try, I’m not going to sit there and take it. I’m going to fight back. I let you have at me the first time because, well- maybe I deserved it. Heather was there too. I didn’t want her to see us tearing each other apart. Try it again and I swear you’re going to walk away worse for it.”
Jay rolled up the sleeves of his red and black plaid shirt. “We’ll see, then, who takes the worst beating.”
He went to stand, but Rone beat him to it. He stood, shoved the table into Jay’s ribs and slammed his large hand onto his friend’s shoulder. He pushed him down into the booth at the same time the wind rushed out of Jay’s lungs.
“Sit the fuck down and think about what you’re saying. You’re drunk. Trashed. I can see. You think you’re really in any kind of condition to go head to head with me? I might still have the bruises from least time, but I guarantee I’m healed up enough to give you an ass kicking that you won’t forget any time soon.” Rone kept Jay pinned in place with the table for a few long minutes until he was sure he wasn’t going to try and do anything foolish.
Finally Jay’s shoulders slumped and he glanced down at his half full pint, which miraculously, hadn’t spilled when Rone knocked the table over a foot.
“You quit or what?” Jay’s eyes returned to Rone’s face. They shot sparks, though by the way they tried to focus, Jay really was far too hammered to do much damage at all.
“No.” Rone sat back down. He left the table where it was. Jay shoved it back to where it should be. He picked up his pint and rained the rest of it before slamming the glass back down on the table. “I’m not afraid of you, Jay. I didn’t come into work because I looked like hell. I had a few sick days that I used. I’m not going to quit and I’m not going to stop seeing Heather.”
“The fuck you will.”
“No, I really am not. We’re adults. We’ve spent ten years and at least half that time, in wanting to be with each other. I’m not letting her go now that I finally have her. I love her. She feels the same way. You can either be happy for us or you can hate us, but it’s going to happen, no matter how you feel. You have no right to keep us apart.”
Jay sighed. “You come from a broken home. You- I know what happened to you that summer…”
“Yes, I know what you felt fit to tell her. That wasn’t your shit to tell anyone, Jay. That was information you were trusted with, as my brother. You think I wanted that shit to happen to me? I’ve spent years in therapy trying to get over the way I was raised. The truth is though, and we both know it, is that I’m not nearly as fucked up as you are.”
Jay’s eyes widened. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Rone shrugged. “Exactly what I said. I actually wanted to sort my shit out. I’ve tried hard to be a better person than I was. I might come from a broken home, but it never broke me. I still have the ability to love. I always have. I love your sister and I’m going to do what it takes to fight for her. I’m not ever going to give up. Not unless she tells me she wants me to and means it. I might have come from nothing, but you are the one who is broken.”
“Why do you keep saying that?” Jay slurred. His eyes narrowed dangerously and Rone thought he was going to have to shove the table and pin Jay again.
“You bounce from woman to woman. You never let anyone close or anyone stick. Heather knows about my past now. She knows far more than you told her. She isn’t going anywhere. She accepts me for who I am. I suppose I should thank you for bringing it up. I had no idea how.”
Across the table, Jay’s face reddened, but surprisingly it didn’t seem to be from anger. He actually looked embarrassed. He squirmed in the booth and sent a sidelong glance at his empty pint glass, as though he wished it was full and he had something to distract himself with.
“Yeah.” His eyes finally swept up to Rone’s face. It wasn’t the reaction Rone expected, nor were Jay’s words. “I’m sorry for what I said. No matter what you’d done, you didn’t deserve for that to come out. I know that was a secret. It wasn’t my place to say what I did. I know we swore an oath of brotherhood to each other, and I wouldn’t have wanted to betray my worst enemy the way I betrayed you.”
“So… it’s okay that I’m seeing your sister.”
“It sure as hell isn’t.”
“But you’re going to let it slide? Heather doesn’t want to see us sacrifice our friendship over this. She’s been so worried. She thinks she hurt you and that’s eating her up inside. If you don’t want to see her get truly hurt, you should at least make peace with her. I do care if you want to call it quits and if you want to spend the rest of your life hating me. I don’t want that, but what I really care about is that Heather not get hurt. I swore to her that I would never hurt her and I want to keep my word. That’s why I’m here. It’s not just for the good times we had or the past or everything that we’ve done together. It’s not even for that damn oath that we made to be brothers. It’s for her. You want to hand out another beating? Ten? Twenty? A hundred? I’ll take them. You want to hate me? That’s fine. You want to never speak to me again or see my face? I can make that happen. Just please... don’t punish her. She doesn’t deserve that.”
Jay hung his head. His shoulders slumped when he sighed. “Heather always was a good sister. After that one time, she never tattled on me. She never ratted me out. She wasn’t uncool. She was always smart and nice. She wasn’t whiny or bratty. She never came into my room or broke my shit or did anything that would have made me mad. She was a pretty good sister, but better than that, she was always a friend. I’ve felt bad, all these years, that mom gives her such a hard time. I want to stand up for her and fix things between them, but I don’t really know how.”
“Time. Isn’t that supposed to fix everything?”
“Has time fixed your mother?”
“Nope. I’ve made my peace with that though so maybe I was the one who got fixed. My mom is a lost soul. The drugs and the alcohol and chasing the next high or the next guy who gives her that same feeling- that’s had control of her for a long time. If she’s not willing to get help, there isn’t much I can do. I’ve offered. She declined. If she did come round though, you can bet I would be willing to do what I could to help her get clean.”
Jay blinked. “Why? Why would you do that for her after everything? Some of those fuckers she used to date would get all screwed up or liquored up and beat the shit out of you or worse.”
“I know. Believe me, I haven’t forgotten. I’m not saying I’d be able to forgive her. She never protected me like a parent should, but because of her, I spent a lot of time at your house. Your family was my family. I’ve seen you as a brother for a long time. I always thought that was a blessing, that you were all there for me. I just- I couldn’t abandon her if she needed help. I would at least do that for her, even if I didn’t want to have a relationship. It’s hard to imagine it at this point.”
Jay picked up his empty pint glass and set it down hard on the table, a not so subtle signal to the waitress hovering around behind the bar that he’d like a refill. Rone was about to tell him he’d had enough, but he let it go. Jay could take care of himself.
“Just be sure you take a cab,” Rone said under his breath.
“Of course. I’m not that much of an asshole.”
“Just checking.”
“Fuck, Rone,” Jay sighed disgustedly. “You’re a better man that I am. I’ve known it for a long time. You had all the odds against you. I had everything given to me. At least, my mom kept me safe and worked hard to give me every advantage. We always had enough. We were always safe. I had my education paid for. I have a good job. I can get any woman I want. And still- all of it means nothing. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m fucked up.”
“You could choose not to be.” Rone reached out and clapped Jay on the shoulder as he stood up. “Believe me, therapy isn’t for pussies. It really helped me.”
“Rone?”
He stopped, standing right beside Jay, who was still sitting. “I don’t want you to be with Heather. I truly don’t, but as long as you are, treat her like a princess. If I hear that you broke her heart, I’ll break your damn jaw next time.”
Rone grinned. “Thanks man.” He walked away from the booth, away from the blonde waitress who came over to refill Jay’s pint, away from the pool tables and the scent of stale beer, low tuned TV’s and faded hopes. When he made it out to the parking lot, he took a deep breath of fresh air before he got in his truck.
His hand hovered above the ignition for just a minute before he put the key in and turned the truck over. He let it idle for even longer as he sat and stared out the windshield at absolutely nothing at all. Despite the fact that his ribs were aching like hell and his face still looked like he’d put his head through a garbage disposal, he felt pretty damn good. Life wasn’t perfect, but he was pretty damn sure that it was about as good as it could get at the moment. Jay might be angry with him for years, but he’d given his permission because he loved Heather and he wanted to do what was right of her and no matter how much of an asshole the guy could be, he was Rone’s brother.
Rone put his truck in gear and slowly left the parking lot and the bar behind. His smile turned into a grin a few blocks later. He was a big believer in time and what they said. It really did heal most things and everything it didn’t, weren’t really worth worrying about.