"What? Tell me, please. I need to know."
"Well, usually
he...
fucks
someone
up!" She laughed. "Typical ape-monkey Alpha male
bull
shit, you know. Men!"
She sighed, poured me some more tea as we sat in Conall's
suite.
I shook my head. "I don't
know if I can go through this again. Not again. But he told me...
He told me that... Well, that it was because of
you
he was out of touch the last six
months — "
"Oh, it was! Trust me,
Leora, it
was
!"
Her face went dark. She shook the thoughts away. "Anyway. But it
was probably also convenient. I mean, he had all this pain. He
blames himself, you know, for what happened with me. And then his
brother. And, of course, his sister..."
My teacup stopped midair. Alex noticed it
and realized she'd said too much.
"Shit. He hasn't told you about that, has
he?"
Fucking hell. About what!?
"I guess not," I said. "I
mean, if I count it up, we've only been together a few
days
in total. Christ,
what happens if we stay together for a few years, or
decades!?"
"You're going to have a
fucking interesting life, honey. That's all I can say! But that's
love, isn't it? It's not love if it isn't over the top, if it isn't
crazy. Then it's just, well,
convenience
."
"Convenience?"
"Yes, when two people
realize they suit each other well, like a business deal. She blows
him, he muffs her, they fuck every now and then. She cooks, maybe.
Then he looks at porn and she turns a blind eye, looks at some
herself. She dildos herself when he's too fat to perform. But
they
stand
each
other. It's
convenient
."
"God, how awful."
"It is. That's what my parents had together
— "
She stopped talking. Her
eyes paused, looking at nothing. I knew what this was about. Her
father, and what he'd done to her. Conall had told me in New York.
Well, I'd figured it out. I hadn't asked much about it then. And I
wouldn't now. What Alex needed was
distraction
, not focusing on the
negatives in her life.
"Anyway," she continued, "love which is
really just a convenience is destined to fail. That's my theory on
it. I think that's maybe the real reason why I never did anything
with Conall back then. There'd never been any spark, at least from
my side. And... I don't know. Now I think differently about it.
But, anyway, that's another story..."
Er, yeah, and his girlfriend is the one
you're telling it to!
"You mentioned his...sister?" I said. "And
something about his brother? I know he's an addict."
Alex lay back. "Oh, God. Leora, it's best I
don't say anything more... I really shouldn't have mentioned
it."
I put my tea down, stared at my phone on the
table. "Alex, I need to understand. If it's love or not doesn't
matter. I can't go through this again. I can't go through this
constantly — "
She put her hand on my wrist. "Leora, it's
his way of dealing with things. And it really is his place to tell
you, when he's ready. But, if you want, I can take you to where he
probably is now."
My eyes shot to her. How is
it that this woman knew more about my boyfriend — practically
my
lover
— than I
did? I intended to set it right. I loved Conall, loved him more
than the universe. But we needed to be on equal footing. And I
decided to set that straight. Right then and there I braced myself
up for telling him how I felt. I figured I'd probably cry like a
frickin baby while doing it, but I was gonna try my damnedest not
to!
"Yes, I'd like to know where he is.
Please."
I texted Kayla and Dani to come over to
London and spend the day with us. It was still early. Seven A.M.
I'd gotten up at the crack of dawn. Kayla was ecstatic.
Kayla: About fucking time! Was beginning 2
feel like ur BF was becoming more important than the only 1 who
REALLY loves u!
Then I told her about the clothes:
Kayla: OM-F'ing-G!!!! I LOVE your man!!!
All's forgiven!
Dani couldn't make it because she was
covering a shift for the girl who'd covered a shift for us earlier
in the week. Damn it, I was gonna owe a mother lode of shifts
soon.
Worse. I began to worry that, if I kept up
this way, I wouldn't have a job soon. But freckly Troy wouldn't do
that to me, would he?
I decided to play it safe and I called him.
I did what any girl does when they're in a pickle and need to get
something from a man. I flirted.
"Troy, sweetie," I said as
he picked up. I'd woken him up and he mumbled something. "Sweetie,
it's Leora here." Yes, I called him sweetie. "Look, honey,
I'm
so
sorry about
lately. It's just that" — I gave a coy and loud sigh — "well, I had
this friend come over. You've seen her haven't you?"
"Umpf, yes, yes, I think..."
"Oh, she thinks
you're
hot
by the
way."
"Oh, she does?"
Yip, he was awake now. "Oh, yeah! Wow, she
wouldn't stop fucking talking about you ever since she saw you! I
mean, you do have that whole dark and mysterious look going on for
you, you know? I've also noticed..."
"Oh, ha ha, um, I — I — Well — Um — "
Yip, this was going great.
"Anyway, Troy, honey, I'm
so
sorry about the days I haven't been — "
"Oh, Leora, forget it.
It's
no
problem!
Take all the time you need! Jackie needs extra shifts anyway, let
the girl work."
Jackie
, that was her name! The one who'd covered our
shifts!
"Oh, thank you
so
much,
sweetie."
"No," he cleared his throat, "no, no. It's
no problem." I could almost see him hardening up in his shorts. It
was pretty gross.
I had to close this deal
up. I
really
didn't want to lose this job! "Thanks, baby. Bye. Oh, wait, I
just wanted to ask you one thing. I've been meaning to for days
now, but, well, with all these friends and things..."
"Yes?"
"You've been going to the gym lately,
haven't you? Or swimming?"
"Oh, no, um, not recently. I did, um, lift
some boxes, heavier than usual. Did that last week, I think. Or was
it an extra crate of beer...?"
"Oh, it must be that. It
shows. OK, honey, have a
great
day. I'll let you know when my friend leaves. I'll
be less all-over-the-place after that."
"Oh, yes, um, that friend, so she really
thought I was cute, did she?"
Damn it
. He was curious now. And I was gonna owe Kayla big-time. Time
to end this call before I dug a hole I wouldn't be able to get out
of! "Um, yes, um, look, I gotta go. I'll have her call you! Bye!" I
hung up.
Alex's mouth looked like an opening to a
large cave. "What?" I said.
She raised her eyebrows. "You're good."
Traveling from Seaford to London takes a
good three hours if using public transportation. But Kayla wasn't
in Seaford. She was still in London!
"I didn't believe everything was OK with you
and Romeo yesterday," she said, "so I booked a hotel nearby. Just
in case."
My, I loved this girl. "Why can't a guy be
like you?"
"Because guys are morons."
I did the introductions but
Alex took care of the awkward part on my behalf. Lying back on the
settee in her suite, she said to Kayla, "I'm crazy, half suicidal,
and a drunk. Leora here, kind-hearted as she is, decided to take on
the gallant task of babysitting me for the day. Only, she didn't
realize how really fucked up I am. She also didn't realize what a
dark and troubled soul the love of her life is. Or, more simply,
also how
fucked up
he is. So, now, she needs
you
to babysit me. Because, well, if you don't, I'll
probably get drunk, fuck someone behind an alley, and then get
arrested.
"Is that about right, Leora?"
I put my palm to my head, smiling. "Um,
well, pretty much, I guess."
"Damn!" Kayla said to Alex. "I fucking like
you! Jeez, Leora, you only meet cool people here!"
Kayla rushed over to Alex, looped her elbow
around the other girl's, and practically yanked her off the couch.
"Come on sister, screwed up people need lots of earrings, and
eyebrow rings, and tattoos." Kayla charged Alex to the door.
Tattoos? Eyebrow
rings?
"No, Kayla..."
"Hey, you wanna go visit Romeo? Or do you
want to babysit us?"
Alex was a little shocked.
But she also looked...something else. Something I hadn't seen her
being since I'd met her. In between all the glowering and the
tension and the stress, the one thing Alex
never
looked like, was relieved. And
that's how she seemed now. Her skin even looked lighter, less
pressured. She must be, what, twenty-nine? Thirty? Over ten years
older than us. And she looked like a teenager now, propped up by
the elbow by Kayla.
"Go," I said, shooing them away with my
palm. "Go before I change my mind!"
They left.
"Oh, wait! Alex, you need to show me where
Conall is first!"
I thought Alex had made a mistake when she
took me to where Conall had supposedly been all night. "A
warehouse?" I said.
She shook her head. "He's here. Go in. If
he's not there, come back out. We'll be waiting."
Kayla shrugged. She looked as confused as
me.
"Er, um, if I don't come out I might have
been murdered. This place looks like where my dad grew up. You
don't wanna know where he grew up!"
Trash-bags lay piled up
outside the brick walls and the windows were covered with grating.
A guy in a beanie, goatee and bad-ass eyes, leaned back against a
wall, looking at us askance while he smoked a cigarillo. The dude
looked like a freaking drug dealer, or a murderer...or
both
!
"Appearances can be
deceiving," said Alex, calm as a summer's breeze.
Whatever!
"Christ," I said. Was I the
only one who saw the neighborhood we were in? I walked to the main
door, pulled it open. It squeaked and creaked and damn-near fell
off its hinges.
Definitely in need of some
oil, or some screws, or just a whole new frickin door!
Sunlight shafted through the windows up top
when I got inside the dark warehouse corridor. It smelled familiar.
Sweaty, a little stale. It smelled like...my dad's gym back home.
That dingy one where he'd taught me how to box, and how to kill a
guy with one whack to the nose (yeah, I have a cool dad!)
When I went further inside,
into the main hall, I understood the odor. It wasn't
like
a gym. It
was
a gym. A fighting
gym.
And there was Conall.
He sat on a low wall on the other side of
the boxing ring, his head down, sweat glistening from his bare
shoulders which peaked out through a sleeveless tank top, his hands
wrapped in black hand-wraps — the kind that barely protect the
knuckles for as-good-as bare-fisted fighting. His eyes were glued
to the floor. I moved forward, my feet echoing as I walked. Conall
heard them. He looked up.
The left side of his face was covered in
rivulets of blood, a deep cut gaping just above his left eye.
Conall just looked at me,
no expression,
no
reaction. I tried not to overreact. I walked slowly to him. He
sat up straighter, took a deep breath, looked to his
right.
"So, mate, taught you a lesson there,"
someone said from where Conall was looking.
"You were lucky," said Conall.
"Want to go at it again?" The man speaking
was a tall black guy, about as muscular as Conall, maybe a little
more so. Definitely taller. He had a goatee, shaved-to-the-skin
head, and calves about the size of my thigh. "Ooh, hello little
missy? Get lost, did you?"
"Hey," said Conall, slapping the man on the
abs with a thud. "She's with me."
The black man — at this
stage I just called him Shaq, because he was
huge
— looked at Conall, confused,
then at me, then back at Conall. He let out a laugh. "Hoo-hoo-hoo!
Boy, you are in
trouble
." He turned to me. "Miss, I don't know who you are, but if I
know my boy here, he's in trouble. Because that's the look
of
love
on his
face if I've ever seen it."
"Hey!" Conall stood up, smacked the man
again on the abs. "Stop it!"
The man laughed, put his water bottle down.
"Ooh-hoo, this is serious. Come on, boy. Wanna put this back in the
ring? I can cut the other eye for you." He started dancing on his
feet, swaying his fists up and around, swinging his head left and
right like Muhammad Ali.
Conall suddenly laughed. The man stopped
dancing, put his left hand on Conall's trap and massaged it. Conall
looked down, started unstrapping his hand-wraps.
"Conall, I think the
real
solution to your
anger lies in this ravishing young lady here, not in getting
another cut eye." The man looked at me, then gave a caring smile.
"You going to work today?" he asked Conall.