Mr. Novak laughed. I wanted to laugh, but my sense of humor was lost in the moment.
“Rex, this is the guy who sent those cops after me,” I said.
Rex pulled on his jeans.
“He don’t look so tough. I bet you could probably beat him up,” Rex said.
Mr. Novak stopped laughing.
“You think this bitch could even lay a hand on me?” he said.
“No. I’m saying she’d knock you out,” Rex replied.
Rex’s arm was bleeding pretty badly, but he didn’t seem to care. He just grabbed his shirt from the other night, ripped it up, and tied it around the wound.
“I’ve had enough of this,” said Mr. Novak. “Get rid of them.”
The thugs took their aim only to be smashed upside the head with clubs and tire irons; the rest of the motorcycle club was here.
“Thanks, boys. I was wondering when you’d finally show up,” Rex said, pulling on his vest.
Rex stomped his way over toward Mr. Novak. They were both hulking men. Rex was more barrel chested, but Mr. Novak was a little taller with more chiseled muscles.
“I hear you tried to have my girl killed,” Rex said.
“Loose ends need tying up,” he said.
They stood toe to toe, neither of them wanting to back down or show any sign of weakness. I knew Rex; he didn’t have an ounce of weakness in him, and he didn’t bow down to anyone.
“You wanna know what the worst thing is?” Rex asked, but he wasn’t looking for an answer. “Waking up to a gunshot wound.”
Rex reached out and grabbed the gun from Mr. Novak. The two wrestled with it for a brief moment, but Rex was clearly stronger. I wanted to cheer on Rex and see him wipe the smile from Mr. Novak’s face for good.
“What should I do with this guy, Celia? It’s my wedding present to you,” he offered.
I thought about it for a second. I wanted him to do nothing what he did to the cops the other night. I wanted to find my friend Jimmy and dig a grave right next to him to plant Mr. Novak in. I wanted to have Rex squeeze him until all of his bones snapped.
Most of all, I just wanted to feel safe. And I did feel safe as long as Rex was nearby.
I walked up to Mr. Novak.
“What is your life worth to you?” I asked.
“Everything,” he replied.
I laughed.
“Yeah? And how much is everything?” I asked.
He pulled a small black book from his chest pocket.
“This has all my bank codes and passwords. It’s worth almost ten million if you let me go,” he said.
I snatched the book from his hand and started thumbing through it. It was just a bunch of numbers and passwords, but it looked real enough.
“So I get to leave,” Mr. Novak said.
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll let you go.”
He let out a sigh of relief.
“To prison,” I added.
Rex was a good man, and I knew what he wanted to do.
“Only downside is you didn’t bargain for what you’ll look like when you get there,” I said.
Rex knew what I meant. He threw a punch that would’ve splintered a tree square into Mr. Novak’s stomach. The man fell to the ground with the wind knocked out of him.
But, in desperation, he threw a quick jab, trying his best to strike Rex. Rex easily blocked the blow and delivered a kick to Mr. Novak’s chest. Running on pure adrenaline, Mr. Novak tackled Rex to the ground. He threw punch after punch as hard as he could, but the punches didn’t seem to faze Rex in the slightest.
Rex just stood up and picked the man up by the collar, only to deliver a blow square to the side of Mr. Novak’s face. It was brutal to watch. They two of them kept at it for a while.
Before long, Mr. Novak was bloodied and beaten. His strength had been bested easily by the only person who knew how to make me happy. I was seeing, again, the reason why I had always been so close to him in my youth.
Good people were hard to find, so sometimes you found a bad one who knew just what you need.
I tucked the book into my pocket and made my way toward the road. Rex seemed to be enjoying himself with his punching bag. After about five minutes of Mr. Novak taking a beating, I saw one of the club members come out with a length of rope tied around his torso.
The group dragged him back to the motorcycles and tied the other end of the rope to the bike.
I gave Rex a kiss on the cheek as he rode off down the street with Mr. Novak in tow.
Unfortunately, the ride didn’t last as long as I would had hoped.
9.
“Celia Murphy?” chimed the voice of the officer.
I stood up and walked over to the holding cell bars.
“You’re free to go,” he said.
I walked out to the lobby of the police station. A good portion of the club was there waiting, but not Rex.
“Celia Murphy,” said the old woman behind the desk, “your marriage license is in order. Here’s your certificate.”
I laughed at how droll she made the whole proceeding sound. If Rex were here to see this, he’d probably laugh about it too. I was his now and forever.
“Will Rex be out soon?” I asked.