“But, as awful as it was, they took me in. I had nowhere to go. I’d never had to fend for myself, in the sense of living independently. I was homeless, then I was in the gang, and then I was in the Marines. The gang had a few different places where we could crash, and Rev and I just bounced around. We never had a home, per se, like our own place, but we always had somewhere with a roof and a bed, or, at least, blankets on the floor. I got out of the Corps and I had no fuckin’ clue where to go, what to do. Rev and I had a disagreement about that, and we went our separate ways for awhile. Thank fuck we did, because it means Rev never saw me as an addict.” I shake my head and shrug again. “They took me in. But there was a cost to it, I guess. So like I said, mixed. I am glad I came, though.”
She relaxes a bit as we go through a less bumpy stretch. “You feel any kind of closure?”
I nod. “Yeah. I do, actually. Seeing Eddie, telling him I forgive him, seeing Uncle Joey and…I dunno. I guess I feel so grateful I got out, I survived, got clean, and got a new lease on life, at the risk of sounding cliché. They’re stuck in place, stuck in time. I wish I could help them, but I know I can’t.”
Annika gives me sharp, piercing look. “More to the point, do you forgive yourself?”
I nod, then bob my head to the side. “Yeah. Well…working on it. I think forgiving Eddie is a big step in the right direction. I feel lighter. I was harboring a lot of anger and resentment and blame for him, and now I just feel…sad, I guess. He’s sick. It’s a disease, addiction is. And it’s just clear he’s dying from that disease, and seeing him like he was just now…yeah. I’m not angry at him anymore. I’m just sad for him, and for Joey. There’s hope for Rico, maybe. I dunno.”
“I’m sorry you went through that, Chance.”
I glance at her, and she smiles at me, softly, sweetly. “Led me to you, so…”
Her brow furrows. “So…? What?”
“I’m just glad we met. I feel like…when I’m around you, I guess I feel like…” I swallow hard, pull hard to get the words past my teeth. “Like I can be my best self. That there’s possibilities. Not just…alive. Not just one day to the next, working, hanging out with the guys, wash-rinse-repeat.” It’s so hard to put this into words. It’s vulnerability, which is scarier to me than combat or anything else; I’ve relied on no one but me my whole life. “You make me…” I trail off, shake my head as if to clear it, “you make me wantlife, Nik.”
“But you seem to be saying that having met me almost…” she laughs, a dry, sarcastic bark. “It almost sounds like you’re saying it’s worth it. Having met me.”
“Would that be so crazy?” I ask, looking at her. “You and me, this thing with us…it’s barely begun. But…if it could be what I see Rev and Myka have, what Kane and Anj have…then yes, Annika. It would be worth it. And I’m willing to work for that, to build us up to that.”
She shakes her head. “You’re crazy, Chance.”
“Why?”
She swallows hard, blinks harder, turns her face away, covering her mouth with her palm, other arm curled across her torso protectively, shelling herself. “What if I don’t feel the same way?”
“Hey, you’re allowed to feel however you feel.” I reach out and grab her thigh. “If you don’t want this with me, that’s okay. I’ll be okay. I’d be sad. It’d…that would fuckin’ suck balls, not gonna lie. But I’d let you go if that’s what you need. I’d help you get set up somewhere. San Diego, or LA, or whatever you need. And I’d wish you well and tell you I hope your life turns out fuckin’ magical, mama.”
She looks at me, eyes hazy with unshed tears. “No, no. No. I’m not…that’s not what I mean.” She turns away again, dashing at her eyes with the back of her wrist. “I’msosick of crying, goddammit,” she mutters. With a shake of her head and a gruff clearing of her throat, she tries again, stronger. “I just…I don’t know if anything is worth what I went through. The accident, addiction, Alvin. It was pure hell. And…” she trails off, looks at me, starts again. “You mean a lot to me. I like being with you. I want more of what we have. The idea of saying I want a relationship with you scares the absolute hell out of me, Chance. I don’t know how to be a…god, girlfriend sounds so trite and childish. How to be a lover? How to love someone? Is that what this is, what we’re looking at, here? I don’t know how to love someone. I’m not sure I even love myself. Shit, I don’t know if Ilikemyself.”
“Can I say I love you, or that I’m in love with you, right here, right now?” I shrug, shake my head. “No, that’d be premature. But can I see it going there with you? Absolutely. And very quickly. And I want that. More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, I want to be with you. I like being around you. I already said it—you make me feel…just better, about myself, and about life. And I like that. A whole fuckin’ lot.”
“I feel the same way,” she whispers. “I just don’t know if I’m at a place yet where I can feel likeanythingis worth what I went through. That’s not anything against you, Chance. You’re…you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
I grin at her. “Hey, mama. I didn’t say itwasworth it. I said itcould be.” I jostle her leg. “I wouldn’t wish what I went through on my worst enemy. And I sure as fuck wouldn’t repeat it. I just mean I’m more thankful than I can say that I met you.”
She smiles at me—it’s wobbly, a little shaky. “I can agree to that.”
I slap the steering wheel. “So. The hard shit is all done. You’ve reconciled with all the people you love, Alvin’s out of the picture—and I can protect you if he decides to try something—and I’ve faced the last of my shit. Now, we have some fun.”
Annika laughs, resting her head against the headrest. “Fun. When was the last time I hadfun?” She smiles at me. “I’m ready for fun and relaxation.”
“Me too, mama. Me too.”
13Just Trust Me, Mama
Annika
Salt spray wets my face as the prow of the rented powerboat smacks into the white-capped waves and then lifted, pointing skyward, only to smack back down again. Above, the sky is mostly clear blue with a few high puffs of gray-white clouds scattered here and there; the sun shines bright and hot, and here on the open ocean there was long stiff wind blowing. My hair is bound back in a thick braid, which whipped crazily. Behind me, we have a single duffel bag containing—despite Chance’s sexually charged teasing—a new bikini for me and a pair of board shorts for him, and a couple more changes of clothing for both of us, along with some toiletries and a few odds and ends. A large white Yeti cooler contains a variety of groceries—a carton of eggs, a bag of ground coffee, shredded cheese, deli meat, bread, some green and red peppers, a package of chicken breast, a bag of rice, a head of broccoli…enough food for three days. There’s also a couple of red containers of gasoline for the boat, and few other items—a cast iron skillet, a spatula, matches, a lantern, and some other stuff I wasn’t sure of.
Chance paid for it all. When I questioned the amount of money he was spending, he admitted he had spent very little of his military salary, and was paid exorbitantly—his word, not mine—for his work at the club.
“I’m flush, mama,” he’d said. “No worries.”
I didn’t like it. Part of me worried he was keeping a tally in his head, and someday, it’d come up. He’d hold it against me. Expect it from me.
He’d smelled that from a mile away. Looked at me, eyebrow raised. “I hope you don’t think I’m keeping track. I ain’t Alvin, baby. I’m taking care of you. It’s just money, and I don’t got any reason to spend it. Till now, it’s just been sitting in my account collecting dust.”
