Chapter 19
Mary Jane
Discovering that a ladder has twenty steps going up,
a moron asked if there were just as many going down.
–Philogelos (The Laughter Lover)
The doctor mumbled something to Noah. I could barely hold on to each word. They’d drugged me pretty good, but at least I could move.
I think I’m moving. Am I?
I couldn’t look down or truly keep my eyes open for too long. My entire body was numb. A euphoric feeling moved inside of me. I tried to lift my arm or turn my head. Nothing happened and I felt like laughing.
Yeah. I’m not moving. But what the hell did they give me? This is some good stuff.
I forced myself to keep my eyes open. Fuji’s big face came into view. He sat in the chair next to me. Noah stood by the door with the doctor. He had a fresh suit on, but his hair appeared disheveled.
“Your friend over there,” The doctor pointed to Fuji, “He explained that she was running in a hardware store and somehow slipped on a knife. That doesn’t explain the wound pattern or how she would’ve—”
Noah growled, “Is that a question?”
“Well, if she did not slip and fall on the knife, then it would mean that,” the doctor stirred a little, “It would mean that someone stabbed her. Which would mean that a crime was committed. I would have to report this.”
“Trust me. She slipped and fell. Let’s hope that she’s okay. The floors in this hospital are pretty slippery too. I would hate for you to slip and fall on a knife.”
The doctor’s expression changed from concerned to filled with horror. “That wouldn’t be a good thing.”
“No.” Noah stuffed his hands into his pockets. “So let’s get on with it. Is this a fucking Law and Order episode or are you going to tell me how she’s doing?”
The doctor cleared his throat and scribbled something on the pad in front of him. “I stitched her up. You friend is lucky she didn’t. . .slip onto the knife harder. None of her vital organs were hit. She should survive the wounds with no problem.”
“How long will it take her to get back on her feet?” Noah asked.
“Most are minor, so around ten days for initial healing. If everything is fine, then six weeks to full recovery. The skin will close up fast. It’s the tissues inside that need time to heal. She can’t do any lifting for several weeks.”
“Don’t worry. She’ll remain in bed the full six weeks,” Noah declared.
I absolutely will not be in bed for six weeks. I have school! I have a life. I have a mom who will be calling me soon, if I don’t hurry up and call her. And no one wants her snooping around.
The doctor continued, “I will need to have her follow up—”
Noah interrupted, “She’ll have a personal nurse and doctor starting tomorrow.”
My voice scratched a little as I whispered, “I. . .will?”
Fuji rubbed my hand. “Shh. Get your rest.”
I dragged my eyes open. “But—”
“Shh.”
And then my eyes closed and I went back to sleep. I wished for a good dream, but instead I floated in a drug-induced haze. Odd conversations happened around me and I couldn’t tell if it was my imagination or real life.
“Fuji.” Noah sounded tired. “Go to Crusher’s room, make sure he’s being checked on.”
“I don’t want to leave MJ.”
Silence was the only response.
Fuji sighed or maybe it was a groan of annoyance, but movement came from where he’d been sitting, as if he stood up. The big man spoke, “What about Crusher’s dwarves?”
Did he say dwarves?
“Get them. No one wants him to wake up in bed without them,” Noah said.
“I got them.”
Shuffling and foot pounding sounded next.
“And Fuji,” Noah said.
Fuji replied, “Yes, Boss.”
“Thank you for saving Mary Jane, but let’s make something very clear.” Noah’s voice held a sharpened edge. “She’s—”
“I love her, boss, but not like that.”
“Okay.”
“But if you ever let MJ get that close to danger again. . .I will kill you, Noah.”
A few seconds passed and I strained to open my eyes, but couldn’t and I drifted back into sleep. The door slammed off in the distance. I tumbled in and out of consciousness. The only constant voice was Noah’s. He whispered a lot to people. I had no idea when he slept. Most of the time he held my hand and barked out orders to whoever came by.
Another voice sounded more than the others. It came out in a rhythmic tone. Like the guy had wanted to be a rapper or something, but never pursued his dreams. “Yo, Noah. What else can we do? There is a black cloud of smoke hovering over the whole city. Every brothel that I could find is abandoned, crumbling and burning to the ground.”
“Good work, 305, but is there any word on Butterfly?”
“Not yet.”
“Then keep the fires going.”
“But the hoes are pissed.”
“Don’t say hoes around my lady.” Noah squeezed my hand. With the other one, he combed his fingers through my hair.
“Sorry, the lovely ladies of the night are upset,” 305 said. “And no one has gotten properly fucked in a few days.”
“Well,” Noah said. “If anybody has something to say about not having sex, please let them know about my grievance procedure.”
Cool. Noah has a grievance procedure? I knew he was a decent boss. His people have a voice!
“Trust me,” 305 said. “I don’t need to remind anybody of that. The whole street is talking.”
“And what are they saying?” Noah asked.
“That everybody better be on point.”
“Good. And how are my guests?”
“The Bordello twins have offered me everything from money to their sisters, hoping I will free them.”
“They don’t like my basement?”
“No, Boss.”
Uh. . .basement? The twins are in his basement?
“Hmmm.” Noah slipped his finger down the center of my palm. “And how’s Choppa?”
“He’s not finding the cross very comfortable. He’s fallen away from it a few times, so I’ve had to nail his wrists and ankles twice.”
Umm. . .cross? Like. . .like. . .Noah crucified him? No. That wouldn’t. . .no.
Noah continued to play with my hair. “So, he’s being ungrateful?”
“Yes, boss.”
Noah began to stroking my hand. “It’s so hard to please people these days. When he dies, make sure you cut off his head and put it in the freezer. On the right, not the left. Fuji always forgets that, and I end up losing another chef because they’ve dumped a head into a roasting pan to defrost, thinking it was a wrapped roast or something.”
Umm. . .dear god this must be a dream. . .because. . .yes, this is a dream.
“Okay, boss.”
“You’re doing good,” Noah said. “Just fine. However, the focus needs to be on finding Butterfly. I don’t want Mary Jane leaving here until I have a location on that bitch.”
“Okay.”
“How’s the boy doing?”
“Mo?” 305 asked.
“Yeah.”
“He’s a creepy little fucker. When everybody else is looking away from the torture, that motherfucker is staring and grinning. Sometimes he’s fucking giggling. He’s always sneaking around too, popping out of closets and shit. I almost shot his ass yesterday.”
“Ah! A boy after my own heart. Keep a close eye on him. He had the unlucky timing of coming around me while things went out of control. There’s not a lot of people I can trust and I don’t trust him just yet. Anything else, 305?”
“I got a small problem with Dirty Dick.”
Wow. The names in this organization are bugged out.
Noah’s voice lowered. “What’s up with Dirty Dick?”
Besides the fact that his dick is apparently pretty dirty? I mean seriously, what type of guy allows himself to be called that? Ewww.
“Dirty Dick is slicing cakes in the kitchen. Everyone says he’s cutting too much.”
Noah has a bakery too?
“Handle it anyway you want.” Noah continued to stroke my hair. “I don’t have time to deal with the drug game right now.”
Oh. Okay. He doesn’t own a bakery. This is something about drugs. Awesome. This shit scares me. This better be a bad dream.
I slipped back into slumber, wondering how much of that was really what had been said and how much came from my imagination. Clearly, Noah didn’t really keep a guy nailed to a cross. And, there was no way he would keep the twins in the basement for that long. Or did he? How cruel could he be and how much could I stomach? How bad did his life get?
Barely a week with him and I’d already been stabbed. I was still trying to swallow all of that. It hadn’t been his fault. The bitch was crazy, but who knew she’d be insane enough to attack me. Did she love him so much that she couldn’t even deal with another woman around him?
Days continued and I remained in the bed barely able to talk. Too drugged up and in a daze. Noah remained by my side. He’d brought in a huge TV and had it on most of the time, when I could open my eyes. The whole time he filled my room with old stand up flicks from great comics—Robin Williams to Richard Pryor, Whoopi Goldberg to George Carlin. So awesome. It was hard to smile, although I wanted to. I had no idea why I couldn’t talk. Maybe it was the drugs drowning me in this lazy state. Even harder to laugh, although I did several times.
“Don’t laugh,” Noah whispered. “You might mess up your stiches.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Don’t you roll your eyes at me.”
I did it again. “I’m. . .fine.”
“I know.” He muted the screen and looked at me. “We should talk. Do you feel up to it?”
“Drugs. . .”
He twisted his face in confusion. “You want drugs?”
“No. . .drugs got me. . .”
“Out of it?”
I nodded my head. “But. . .I-I can talk.”
“Okay.”
I tried to smile. “D-drugs.”
He chuckled. “Good drugs?”
“G-good.”
“Do you like the comedy?”
“Y-yes.”
“I get points for that?”
I gave him a weak thumb's up and closed my eyes.
“Even though you’re injured and in this hospital, you’re as beautiful as ever.” He stroked my hair, placing his fingers at my scalp and slipping them through my curls. A tingling sensation spread across me and I drowned in pleasure. Sometimes, it was the little things that made me feel so good.
“I’m so sorry, Mary Jane.” His voice cracked a little.
I was scared to open my eyes. I couldn’t see the sadness in his gaze. He’d told me to not go down into the restaurant and I did it anyway. Instead of helping, I’d gotten in the way.
“It’s dangerous around me, baby,” he whispered. “Although this was a rough week, there’s more times like this, than there is peace. Squeeze my hand if you understand me.”
I did, not sure where he was going with this conversation.
“Now, people know what I will do if they bother you. I’ve burned down most of the city over you and I swear to God that Butterfly will be six feet deep before the end of the month.”
I squeezed his hand again and this time I opened my eyes. Rage decorated his face.
“If I was a better man, I would let you go,” he said. “If I was smart, I would walk away from you right now and only make sure there were guards watching you while I hunt Butterfly. If I was anything else than what I am, I would leave you alone, let you have the house, five kids, dog, and husband. That’s what you deserve.”
“D-drugs,” I mumbled.
“And drugs?”
“Yes. . .I would need drugs, if I’m going to have five kids. . .dog. . .and I don’t know. . .if the h-husband would be potty-trained.”
Noah’s face didn’t crack a smile. “I should leave you alone, but I won’t.”
I blinked.
“Remember what you were saying earlier in the limo about needing a way out, if you ever didn’t want to be with me?”
I nodded, scared to hear the next words come out of his mouth.
He pierced me with his gaze. “You don’t get to leave me, Mary Jane. There’s no escape. No way out. No path or detour. When you were stabbed, lying in my arms, and bleeding all over me, I decided that right there. You don’t get to go away.”
I gulped in my fear and whispered, “D-drugs.”
“Sorry, baby.” He landed a sweet kiss on my lips. “Not even drugs will help you escape.”
What did I get myself into?