Momma tucked us away, figuring she could protect us back there.
In her weakest moment, she told me everything about her life, her mother, how she was raised, and what she had been through.
Hailey. Holy fucking conundrum, Batman! This chick’s life has been a whole different level of hell than Momma’s. No physical abuse—well, not anything like Momma’s, anyway.
To feel like you were owned and somehow owed the rest of your life to some piece of shit who reminded you every day that he possessed you, that shit right there strips your pride, your confidence, and any fucking hope that a human being could have. And, regardless of what Momma and us boys endured, we at least had hope. Hope is the single strongest feeling you can have. Hope doesn’t go away. It may hide, like right now, but it comes back with a vengeance.
Hailey said she has none, and I couldn’t tell her she was wrong; I could only listen. She was wrong, though. She has hope—hope for her daughter. And, if she could only see that, she would be well on her way to healing, to overcoming the shit storm her life is.
In the dark of night, her body trembles, and she starts making these little noises, almost silent sobs, as she lies against my chest. I pull her tighter, and they go away.
God, it feels good to know I can do that for her.
I wish someone could have done that for Momma.
She was right, though: Monte is a snake. I played against him in one of the underground tourneys around Vegas, kicked his ass, and walked away with enough money to buy this place. For a week, I watched my back, because he and his goons were everywhere. I didn’t change shit in how I went about my day, but right then and there, I decided I wouldn’t play in that circuit again.
As much as I love the thrill of the game, I love my face and my possessions more, and I didn’t want either to get fucked up. Let’s face it; I’m not Jackie fucking Chan, but going toe to toe, I could wipe the floor with anyone I want. Hell, the old man whupped the shit out of me, and I let him. Why? Because it pissed him off that I was stronger than he was, and it taught me to fear no man. Pain is nothing.
But I’m not fucking stupid, either.
If my brothers were here, I could tear shit up and know Monte and his goons wouldn’t have a chance. However, holding her still trembling body, I know damn well logic and reason would be compromised by the worry and fear that he would take away her hope, in the form of that cute-as-hell little chick who is sleeping in the spare bedroom.
When I have my lightbulb moment, finally figuring it out, I laugh, and she stirs, but after a few seconds she settles back into her slumber.
I wake when the sun starts to peek in the window. As I move out from under her, she opens her eyes.
“You should go slide in bed with the little one, get some more sleep.”
“Are you leaving?” She sits up and stretches.
“No, just need to do a few things.”
“Okay.” She gets up and stretches again, lifting the shirt so I am seeing little lacy bottoms.
“Hey, Slick”—she snaps her fingers—“eyes up here.”
“Busted.” I smirk.
“Yeah, well, thank you for last night, for yesterday, for helping us out.”
“My pleasure. Now go get in bed.” The way that comes out mirrors the nasty little thoughts traveling around in my head. I shrug and she rolls her eyes. “Sorry, babe. You just look so damn tasty right now. You need to go before I stop being such a damn gentleman and—”
“Morrison,” she stops me. “I really do appreciate it.”
“I know. Now go.”
The funny thing about appreciation is that it doesn’t get you laid.
I jump in the shower and look down at my dick. “Been a long time since the two of us have been intimate; years, actually. But here’s the drill”—I wrap my hand around myself—“that girl out there, the one who has you standing at attention and peeking out of my pants, begging to get inside of her…Well, she’s had it rough. Now simmer down. It’s not the kind of ‘rough’ you like. She sees you and me as a job.
“Now I know,” I say, stroking faster, “she didn’t act like that before, but with knowledge comes responsibility. So you and I are gonna get to know each other as well as we did at sixteen years old, ’cause the next time I’m up in that, and you’re seeing platinum up close and personal, Betty Badass out there is gonna have begged for it. She’s gonna know you and I are not a job, a payment, or an obligation, but a gift.” I close my eyes and think of that fine, fine ass I am going all crazy over and pump myself harder, faster. “I promise you this,” I grunt out. “There is no way in hell I’m letting go of platinum.”
—
“What do you mean, Detroit?”
I push her hand back at her. “Look at the tickets. We’re heading out in a couple hours, just for a little while, long enough for this to blow over.”