Ty
I couldn't believe that Candy wanted to stay. Every other girl I'd ever met, even the ones who really liked me, were usually pretty eager to get away from Justin. Maybe she just felt obligated or whatever, but it still shocked me. I mean it really shocked me, and maybe in a good way. It gave me a little warm feeling when I thought my heart had kinda died. It was nice to know I was still capable of emotion.
We spent a while just watching TV. Candy was obviously still tired from last night and to be honest, so was I. Justin, however, was always happy to watch reruns of House MD. House was his idol. I think Justin was dreaming of becoming just like the snarky character, just... you know, with cerebral palsy instead of a bum leg. No big deal. I worried about the kid a lot, honestly, because I knew he was capable of more than people supposed. I knew things would work out for him, eventually, I just didn't know when or how.
Especially not since his damn arm wouldn't heal. He hit it again on a door frame while Candy was there, and the pain was worse than I'd ever seen it. Poor kid was trying to be strong, but his cheeks turned red and tears rolled down his face. Despite his best efforts, he kept groaning because he couldn't keep the damn thing still. We had tried binding it to his chest a while back, but his spasms only strained against the bonds. After he calmed down a bit, he retreated to his room, since he was in so much pain and it was undignified for a twenty-three-year-old man to cry, but Candy and I could hear him weeping from the kitchen. The sound made me so angry, not at Justin, but at the world as a whole, at the fucked-up medical system, at the so-called God who was allowing all this shit happen to my baby brother. I held my head in both hands, grumbling inarticulately.
"Is... is there anything I can do?" Candy asked.
"If there was anything anyone could do, we woulda done it already," I snapped. "He needs an operation. They can set his arm surgically so that it'll heal faster, but that shit costs a lotta money and the insurance won't cover it, no matter how many times the doctor calls them."
"That's horrible," Candy whispered. "Oh, Ty, I'm so sorry—"
"Don't be. I'm sorry enough for the three of us." I clenched my fist against my forehead and gritted my teeth, wishing there was someone around to stab or punch. Anything to take my anger out on. Suddenly, I felt her tiny hand on my shoulder. I shivered, fearing that the dam would break. She was so sweet and gentle and I was so tired of being strong, and for a second, I thought I would just lose it, and cry like a baby on her shoulder, but... no. The dam held. I sighed, pulling my defenses back together. "Thanks, Candy."
"Sure, Ty. No problem."
She stuck around for the whole afternoon. I felt like I was in middle school again or something. We played games, for Christ sake. I was a twenty-eight-year-old gang boss with a knife in my pocket and a world of hate in my heart, and here I was on a mundane, cloudy Saturday afternoon, playing Risk with this beautiful girl. It was so weird. We didn't even talk too much. It was kinda nice. She asked a few questions about me and my life, but when I didn't answer too thoroughly, she took the hint that I didn't wanna talk about myself and so, she stopped. She didn't seem to get upset or offended nor did she make any passive-aggressive remarks. She just smiled and said, "Okay," and finished setting up her armies on the board. And we just played Risk. She talked a little about herself, but not too much. I think she was as happy as I was to just... be.
By the time Ma came back, I was more relaxed than I had been in months. Ma didn't notice, though, she was giddy as a teenage girl as she whisked away into her bedroom and changed into her brand-new dress. I hardly even noticed her, honestly, because I was so focused on Candy and our game.
"Ta-dah!" Ma cried, appearing in the kitchen doorway. I turned around to see her wearing a burgundy-colored dress. It was sleeveless, but the neck went all the way up, and it had some kind of glittery, bead-y design on the front.
"Very nice," Candy said, grinning, "you look wonderful, Mrs. Franklin."
"Call me Judy, I'm having my... what's it called, renaissance? What's the opposite of a mid-life crisis? I feel young again, I feel wonderful."
"Ya look terrific, Ma."
"Thank you, honey." Ma came over and kissed me on the head, and it felt kinda weird for Candy to be seeing all this. "I even bought high heels to go with it!"
"Not Salvation Army?" I grumbled. "You're supposed to have new stuff."
"No, Dress Barn," she said with such satisfaction that it almost made me smile.
"Good."
"Ah, well, you kids enjoy your game, I've got to go finish my hair. Albert will be here shortly."
"I have time to take you home now," I offered to Candy, "Mom's date isn't until six."
"Unless... you wanted to finish the game?" she said with a sheepish little grin. "But if you want me out of your hair, I'm totally fine with leaving—"
"No, that's... I'd like to finish," I said, fiddling with one of my little plastic guys. What the fuck was happening? This gorgeous chick wanted to hang out with me and my disabled brother and play Risk and watch TV? It was so... I don't know, so normal, so nice. But at the same time, it made me feel a little nervous. As if it was too good to last.
As it would turn out, it was.
***
A couple hours after Ma left again, we were sharing a pizza and watching a crappy horror movie marathon. Candy, by now, had begun to understand Justin well enough that she caught it when he cracked a joke, and the two of them spent most of the movie yukking it up like Mystery Science Theater. It was kinda... sweet, I guess. Candy was helping him eat, and I was wishing that this moment would last forever when suddenly, there was a knock at the door that was far too loud.
Startled, I leaped to my feet. I had the knife in my jacket, but something told me I might actually need my gun. I didn't want to scare the others, though, so I didn't bother grabbing it from my room. I opened the door and was immediately punched in the face, stars exploding before my eyes as blood spurted from my nose and pain blinded me. I staggered backward, but instinctively recovered and bolted outside, slamming the door behind me as Candy and Justin both cried out in alarm. I straightened, holding my nose, eyes watering in pain.
"What the fuck!?" I cried. The guy who had hit me was six foot tall, probably four hundred pounds, bald, and wearing brass knuckles. Not someone you want to fuck with.
Unless you're me.
"You owe us money," the big man growled. "Ten grand, to be exact."
"Interesting that punches in the nose count as legal tender these days," I snapped. "Look, I had a deal fall through. I can't pay you just yet. And what the fuck are you doing at my house?" Nobody was supposed to know where anybody lived. It was an unofficial code of the streets - don't ask, don't tell. Stay fucking anonymous and protect your family. Actually, the fact that they were here meant that they were threatening my family.
Reflexively, my hand slipped into my jacket and whipped out my knife.
"You motherfuckers stay away from here." I brandished the knife wide and took a step toward him. "You wanna do business, you get me at the Den, understand?"
The big guy showed me his teeth. "And if you don't pay up, maybe we come in there and rough up your retarded little brother and— arrrgh!"
I leaped forward and slashed at him, slicing open the front of his shirt and leaving a nice, long gash on his flabby chest. He stared down at himself in horror, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened.
"I will fuck you up and ruin your life," I growled. "I've got an army of guys behind me to finish the job too, so I ain't working alone. You're playing with fire, motherfucker. You can ask anyone else in this town and they'll tell you that you'll get your goddamn money when I have it."
"You have two weeks, or someone in that house is gonna get hurt," the man grunted, holding his tattered shirt over the bleeding gash on his chest.
"You have two seconds to get off my property before my knife tastes some more of your inbred blood," I retorted, flashing the blade at him.
The guy’s eyes widened momentarily in fear before he scowled at me and turned on his heels, walking off. I could tell he was trying not to run, but he was walking so fast it looked like he had shit his pants. Maybe he had shit his pants, I don't know.
I wiped off my knife with the tail of my shirt. It was a black tee so Candy and Justin wouldn't be able to see the stains. I felt horrible having the two halves of my life come so close together. It made me feel threatened. And you don't wanna make a Wolf feel threatened. I took out my phone and sent Charlie a text:
Wildcats at my place just now. Send guys.
Charlie would take care of the rest. We had to send a message to the Wildcats that we weren't to be fucked with. "Send guys" meant "send guys to the Wildcats' hangout and have them do some serious vandalism, and if anyone's there, rough 'em up." We hadn't had to do it in over a year, but it looked like the turf war between us was gonna heat up again. God dammit. Just when I thought things were calming down a bit.
The front door opened behind me, and there was Candy, with her big eyes and frail shoulders, swallowed by my old gray sweats. The way she looked at me made it hard for me to breathe.
"Ty? What... Ty, you're bleeding!" she cried, running to me in her bare feet.
"Fuckin'... it's cold out, Candy, get inside," I said, escorting her back to the house. "I'm fine."
"No you’re not," she said, clinging to my arm. She steadied my face with her fingertips on my cheek. God, I hadn't been touched this gently in years. This bitch was gonna wear me down if I wasn't careful. I'd go from Big Bad Wolf to a cuddly puppy in her arms, and I couldn't allow that to happen. I turned my face away from her touch.
"C'mon, relax, wasn't the movie—"
"Fuck the movie," she said, grabbing my hand and marching toward the bathroom. "I'm gonna clean you up."
She made me sit on the toilet while she ran the tap, getting the water nice and warm before dabbing at my face with a washcloth. I looked up at her, wishing she'd stop being so gentle, wishing she'd stop making me feel so... good. She made me feel kind of... important. Human. Not at all wolf-like.
"Ty, what happened? What did those guys want?"
"Just some... guys from the bar," I said, avoiding eye contact with her while she tenderly wiped the blood off my face, lips, and neck. "No big deal. I work in a rough part of town, you know? Shit happens."
"Shit doesn't happen," she countered quietly. "Not like that, anyway. Look, Ty, I'm not gonna butt into your business. I barely know you. But you're a good, sweet guy—"
"No, I'm not—"
"— and you've got a family to take care of." Candy bit her lip, wringing the bloody pink water out of the washcloth. "You've gotta take care of yourself for their sake. Imagine what would happen to Justin and your mother if they had to fend for themselves."
"Ugh." It was all I could say because I knew she was right. And I tried not to think too hard about that kind of thing, but the way she put it made me imagine how hard it would be on both of them if anything happened to me. I sighed and hung my head.
"You take good care of your family," she said, sensing that she'd hit a nerve. "It's pretty adorable, actually—"
"It ain't adorable, it's just what I have to do," I grumbled.
"Sure." She smiled and used a soft, dry towel to pat the water from my skin. "Not a whole lot I can do for your nose, I guess, but at least you're clean now."
I nodded and offered her a begrudging, "Thanks."
"You're welcome, Ty."