“That’s what people do, Charlie. They care. I know this may come as a shock to you, but there are good, kind people that will gladly be in your life. Life is so much more than that.” I point to her neck. “Just know you have friends, Charlie. Friends who will do anything for you.” I hope that didn’t come off as sexual, which wasn’t my intent. What I meant was that if she ever needed me, I'd be there to beat her husband’s brains in with my baseball bat.
Who in their right mind would gather that offer from the word ‘anything?’
“Thanks, but I can handle the situation myself,” she says, lifting the strap of her purse to her shoulder when it slips down her arm.
Yeah, that’s what they all say.
“Don’t wait until it’s too late,” I bend down and whisper, then snag a small jar of pickles from the shelf. “I hope to see you at the jobsite. Take care, Charlie.” I begin to walk away and pause mid-step when she says something to my back.
“I know it’s you outside of my neighbor’s house. You need to stop. You have no idea what you’re getting involved in.”
I roll my shoulders, the soothing weight of my bat pressing against the middle of my back. I remember every single swing I’ve ever taken and every man I’ve had to kill with it. I casually spin on my boots and close the distance between us. I bring my lips to her ear, inhaling a coconut scent that smells good but that doesn’t suit her. I bet he controls that too. “I’ve been involved in worse, and I’ve killed men for so much less than what that bastard is doing to you. I sit outside at night, and I wait to hear you scream so I can finally kill that sorry excuse of a man. Don’t think for one second you’re saving me from damnation, Cupcake. My soul was damned a long fucking time ago, so I get to sin how I want, when I want.”
My phone rings and I put some space between us so I can answer it. It’s One. “I have to take this. Have a good day, Cupcake.” I walk away, hating that I’m leaving her alone and vulnerable. She needs protection. There’s something about that woman that drives me to want to be the strongest protector she’s ever seen so she can feel safe.
I want to be her security, the place she runs to when she’s scared.
“Got something for me, One?” I drop the black shopping basket near a cash register and stroll out of the automatic double doors. What I need isn’t as important as getting Charlie what she deserves. I mount my bike and take one last look inside the grocery store before putting on my aviators to block out the sun.
“Princess does. You’re going to want to get home. Now.”
“Be there in ten.” I hang up and before I leave, I double-check to make sure the GPS I put on the truck while I was outside of her house the other night is working. The green dot blinks and I glance around to find the work truck sitting between a pathetic excuse for a car and an even more pitiful excuse for a motorcycle. I never understood mopeds. Never will. They don’t make sense to me.
Okay, so maybe I didn’t need anything from the market. Maybe I got an alert on my phone telling me Charlie was driving and I wanted to see where she was going…
It might be stalking if I didn’t have good intentions.
Yeah, that’s what every stalker says.
The last two weeks of waiting around for Charlie to show up for work and waiting until I had all of my answers before I marched over to her house and stole her away took a lot of patience. The only thing that stopped me from completely losing my shit was her dad. He talked to her every day which let me know she was okay.
The air doesn’t smell as sweet, and my heart has grown in size aching for Charlie. She has no idea how much I want to wrap her up. She’s a fucking gift and how her husband doesn’t see that is something I’ll never understand.
Charlie deserves Christmas every day, the feeling of love, joy, and presents. The constant feeling of happiness to the point her cheeks hurt. And mark my words, I’ll give her that if it’s the last thing I do.
The grumbling of my bike slows down as I near the clubhouse. Fletcher’s construction has made a ton of headway in the last two weeks. Mercy paid them a little extra to work longer hours and the inside of the bar/shelter/ I don’t know what the fuck to call it, is done. They are building the extension that will eventually be part of the clubhouse now.
It is taking longer to clear out the land to prepare it for construction, so until the clubhouse is built, I’m still sleeping restlessly in the cockroach-invested motel.
I park the bike under a large palm tree to gain as much shade as I can when I see Mercy outside, pacing back and forth talking on the phone. He kicks the gravel and a cloud of dust explodes in front of him. I can’t tell what he is saying, but it seems the conversation isn’t going well.
A bug lands on my arm, where the skin is red from the sun, and I slap my palm over it to squish it.
Ha, fucker.
I hop off my bike and flick the dead bug off my arm, my boots scuffing against the ground as the front entrance gets closer. The closer I get to Mercy, the more I see he is hurt instead of angry.
“Tongue, come on. I missed her birthday because I was giving her space. I miss her. I want to get to know her. You don’t know what this is like. You don’t know how it feels to know I’ve missed out on so much. I want to be a good dad.” Mercy doesn’t try to hide when he sees me, but he does step out of the way so I can go inside. “No, I don’t see how me being away from her is going to help her at this point when you being there doesn’t seem to help her either. Fuck you!” he shouts before hanging up the phone. “Fuck!” Mercy throws his phone against the side of the house and the cheap plastic doesn’t stand a chance. The screen shatters and the back pops off and flies over my head.
I have to duck to make sure it doesn’t hit me in the face.
“I hate that I don’t hate him!” he yells again and slaps his fist against the side of the building. “He has her best interest at heart, but I do too.” He hits his fist against his chest. “I fucking care about Daphne. She’s my daughter. I don’t care if she doesn’t remember me, she can know me now. Now is all that matters. I just want a chance.” Mercy’s shoulders slump and he rubs his temples. It seems the fight leaves him, but not because he has given up. He’s tired.
I couldn’t imagine not being a part of my daughter’s life. It would crush me if I had a little girl to call my own. Mercy has missed out on so much and he has done everything Daphne has wanted, everything Tongue has wanted, and he is running out of patience.
He’s a better man than me. I wouldn’t have listened to Tongue for a second.
“You need something? Anything I can help with?” He bends down and picks up the pieces of his phone. “Damn it. This is the fourth one in three weeks.”
“Maybe it’s time to start buying in bulk,” I joke as I pick up the piece that almost hit my head. “And no, I don’t need anything, Prez. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with you before I see Princess and One.”
“I’ll be fine,” he sighs. “I always am.”
“It’ll get better, Mercy.”
“I hope so. I’m going to the store to get another phone. I won’t be back for a while.” He dumps the remains of his phone into the dumpster that’s being used for the construction and gets on his bike. That thing is sweet. It’s obvious Mercy has taken care of her over the years.