“Come inside.” It isn’t a question. So I follow her into the apartment after she untangles herself from my body.
The place is homey and furnished nicely. There are abstract paintings on the walls and photos of Jordy on the mantel. There is also a photo of a young ballerina who I’m assuming is Tiger with a lady who looks at her with love. Could this be Avery?
Tiger walks into the kitchen and pours herself a cup of coffee. Once her mug is full, she walks over to the freezer and pulls out a bottle of vodka. Instead of pouring it into her coffee, she unscrews the lid and takes a swig from the bottle.
I take a seat at the kitchen table and wait for her to speak.
“I don’t know what to do with him anymore,” she says, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. “I’ve tried my best. I really have. He just hates me.” She takes another drink.
“Can I ask you something?”
She nods.
“Do you think your son acts this way because he doesn’t have a dad?” There is no judgment in my tone. I am honestly interested in what she has to say.
“It’s been tough on him. It’s been tough on us both,” she shares, nervously peeling the label from the bottle. “Jordy doesn’t know much about his dad. Although he’s stopped asking about him.”
“Will you ever tell him the whole story?”
When she shakes her head, I can’t hide my surprise.
“That won’t accomplish anything. I…loved his father. So much.”
Her saying those words does something to my insides. I feel like she fucking punched me in the gut.
“Life was different for me when he was around. Our love affair may have been behind closed doors, but no one has ever made me feel how he did.”
I suddenly wish I kept my damn mouth shut.
“He was my hero. My Prince Charming. I don’t want Jordy thinking badly of him because he got scared.”
“Scared? He bailed on you when you were pregnant. That’s called being a coward,” I correct, wanting to find this asshole and beat him senseless.
“I don’t want someone who will give me half his heart.” Drawing the bottle to her lips, she concludes, “I want it all,” before her slender throat swallows down the vodka she throws back.
The sight, her words, leave me unsettled.
Even though I’d rather be having any other conversation than this one, I can’t stop thinking about what my actions will do to Kong’s kids. Will they turn into troubled youths too? Soon, they will be growing up without a dad, thanks to me.
Needing to change the subject, I ask, “Why does he think you’re a hooker?”
Tiger shakes her head. “I don’t know. There is no way he could find out. His school is pretty much run by nuns, so none of them have stumbled into my work. I work in Cleveland because it’s far away enough that no one I know would come to a strip club in Detroit. Except for Derrick. You don’t think?” she says as an afterthought.
“Has anyone at ballet treated you differently?”
She ponders my question, before replying, “No.”
“Then it’s not him.”
“Then who?” she questions, resting her hip against the counter as she continues to nurse the bottle of vodka.
Thinking of where I was before I came here, I sigh, wishing I didn’t have to tell her when she’s already feeling like shit. “I went to see Andre.”
She chokes on her mouthful of vodka, thumping her chest to help it go down. “What?” she wheezes, eyes watering.
“I went to his house, not your work, so calm down.”
“What part of ‘please don’t’ don’t you get?” she exclaims with a sigh.
“Please and don’t are words I’m unfamiliar with,” I reply, leaning back in my seat.
She widens her eyes. “Oh, god. What did you do?”
“Nothing. Much,” I add with a casual shrug. “I just asked him why he attacked you. He told me what I already knew. Carlos was behind it. He wanted you running scared. And it worked.”
“This makes no sense.” She shakes her head in confusion.
“He said Carlos is just the messenger and that someone else wants you. Does that make any sense to you?”
“No,” she replies, screwing up her nose. “Who is this someone else?”
“No clue. Andre didn’t say.”
She sighs, appearing to mull over what I just revealed. I decide to give her more food for thought.
“Which is why I broke his ankles.”
Her sigh turns into a wheeze as she sucks in a big breath of air. “What do you mean? That’s some slang I don’t know about, right?”
I firmly shake my head and bluntly reply, “Nope. It means I broke both his ankles with my baseball bat.”
“Oh, dear god.” Her hand trembles as she draws the bottle to her lips.
I don’t know what the big deal is. “He’s lucky that’s the only thing I broke.”
“Bull, you can’t go around breaking people’s ankles.”
“Why not?” I question, genuinely curious. “He had no issues almost killing you.”
She opens, but soon closes her mouth. “This is so messed up. I don’t know what’s going on anymore.”
Fucked if I know, so I shrug.
“Why did you break Andre’s ankles?” she asks in a small voice.
“Because he deserved it,” I counter without thought.
“You are going to get into so much trouble if you don’t stop coming to my rescue. Your parole officer made that clear.” She licks her lips, before adding, “But thank you. No one has ever broken someone’s ankles for me before.”
Is that what I did? Did I do this for her?
My hatred for that cockhead Andre is personal. But I couldn’t give a fuck about myself. However, when I found out he was the one who hurt Tiger, he became public enemy number one and hurting him was inevitable.
Breaking his bones was just punishment for putting his hands on Tiger.
Heat creeps up my neck, and I don’t like it. “I’d better split. Lotus asked me to come in early.”
“Oh, of course,” she says, but seems disappointed I’m leaving.
Standing quickly, I go to turn, but she reaches out and grips my arm. Peering down at her fingers, I don’t flinch. I’m getting used to her touching me. More reason to leave.
“Why did you come here? Not that I’m unhappy you came, but was there a reason?” I can see the hope in her eyes. She’s optimistic this is more than it should be…and it is.
But I can’t deal with this right now.
“You need to stay away from that club,” I reply, dodging her question. Her disappointment feeds me. “But it’s your call. You know the risks.”
My nonchalant attitude is far from what I’m feeling inside. If she goes into work, I will be forced to stalk her from the shadows.
She lets me go, stubbornly pulling back her shoulders. “Thanks for letting me know, but you’re right, it is my call, so I better get ready. I don’t want to be late. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go drag my son back home.”
Goddamn her. Why doesn’t she listen? What will it take for her to submit? I don’t know what this is between us. I just know that whenever she disobeys me, she provokes the evil within.