Chapter 5
RALEIGH
“You and I need to have a chat.”
The voice interrupted my careful scrutiny of the grocery list Murry and I had put together earlier that morning.
It wasn’t one I was likely to forget anytime soon, considering he was the asshole who’d grabbed me outside the club on Saturday night.
I wasn’t really worried about him putting his hands on me here in a very public space, not when there were at least three other people in the aisle, even if they were at the opposite end from us.
“There is absolutely nothing you and I need to talk about,” I said and started pushing my cart across the aisle to get to the seafood cooler.
“You think so?” He replied, matching pace with me. “I wonder if you’ll be saying the same thing when you’re talking to the bail bondsman about how you are going to bail your little friend out after I file assault charges against him.”
“You grabbed me first, or have you forgotten that part?”
“Prove it.”
“We took pictures of the bruises you left on my wrist.”
“You might have taken pictures of bruises, but you can’t prove that I’m the one who put them there.”
“Really. I have a witness; what do you have?” I shot back, trying to ignore him as I grabbed the shrimp, scallops, snow crab clusters, red snapper, and cod we planned to cook this week.
Expensive, maybe, if we were getting other meats too, but neither of us was fond of pork and rarely ate chicken or beef, so seafood, eggs, peanut butter, and mushrooms were our biggest protein sources, along with the cans of tuna we made our lunch sandwiches and cucumber boats with, since we weren’t a fan of lunch meat either.
We could afford to be picky as long as we stayed within budget and our G-strings stayed full.
“An old man who’s a cop,” he replied, stopping me cold.
“What the fuck do you want?”
“Figured that would get your attention.”
“You’re an asshole, so make it quick so I can get the hell away from you,” I snapped.
“Do you know what the sentence is for assault with a deadly weapon?”
“What fucking weapon?”
“The one I’m going to tell my old man he hit me with if you don’t show up at this address Friday night.”
“I work Fridays.”
“Then I guess you’d better figure a way out of it then or hope you wiggle that ass enough to pay to get him out on bail while he awaits trial,” the asshole said. “By the time I’m done telling the judge and jury what he did to me, they’ll probably slap him with a five-year sentence.”
“By the time you’re done lying, you mean.”
“Do you really want to take the chance of them believing you two over me?”
“You can forget about me showing up anywhere,” I snarled.
“You go ahead and file false charges on him, and I’ll file real charges on you, backed up by the security tape showing you smacking my ass in the club as well as multiple eyewitnesses, including the bouncer who kicked your ass to the curb.
Go ahead and try me, dickhead, and I’ll add a harassment complaint too, since I know for a fact that this store has video cameras.
In fact, I think I’ll go find the manager right now and ask him to pull the footage of you approaching me in the aisle and following me over here, so I have proof that you are the one who has repeatedly sought me out. ”
As if to make my point, I made a beeline for the manager’s office, hands gripping the cart handle so hard I knew there would be an imprint of it in my palms when I finally let go.
Fortunately, Murry and I had been shopping in this store for years, so the manager knew me and was so concerned that after he sent the footage to my phone and set it aside for law enforcement in case it was needed, he had the store’s security guard escort me to my bike when I was finished shopping, just in case the bastard was outside waiting for me.
I sent the video straight to Phoenix along with a brief rundown of what had taken place before loading our groceries in the oversized backpack I’d strapped to the sissy bars, pissed as hell by the time I made it back to the apartment.
As I carried the backpack up the steps of our apartment building, the only thoughts running through my head were about how pissed Murry was going to be when he found out, but there was no way I was keeping this from him.
We didn’t have secrets between us, well, aside from a few bits of my childhood I’d chosen to keep to myself.
He already knew enough shitty details, and I hated to see him crying over shit that had happened so long ago that there was nothing either of us could do about it.
Walk This Way blared from the smart speaker when I stepped into the apartment, the song accompanying me all the way to the kitchen, where Murry danced barefoot across the space with a trio of spices in his hand.
“Did you find everything okay?” Murry asked when he spotted me.
“Yup, along with an added piece of shit I didn’t care to run across,” I said and proceeded to tell him everything that had taken place in the store.
He insisted on seeing the footage too, muttering curses and threats beneath his breath when I showed it to him.
“Before you ask, I sent it to Phoenix before I even left the parking lot,” I explained.
“Yeah, well, that fucker better hope Phoenix finds him before I do, because if I get my hands on him, his old man is going to spend the rest of his career trying to figure out where I buried the little shit. I cannot believe he had the audacity to just roll up on you in the grocery store like that. What a douche.”
“I just hope he steers clear of us and the club from here on out,” I replied.
“Well, if he shows up at the club, he’s not getting in, you know that, and we are not walking out to the parking lot unescorted again, so no worries there, either,” Murry replied.
“What worries me is him approaching you in the store like that. Was he shopping, or do you think he followed you there?”
Shit.
I hadn’t even stopped to think about that.
“Umm, I don’t remember seeing him carrying a basket,” I muttered, “and he didn’t have a cart, so, I don’t know, he could have been there for one or two things and spotted me while I was shopping.
To be honest, I was paying more attention to the grocery list, so I don’t really know what he was doing when he spotted me.
I can’t say if he followed me to the store or not; I made, like, three other stops before I got there, so he could have spotted me somewhere and trailed after me. ”
I wouldn’t have thought it possible for his frown to grow deeper, but it did, and I knew why, too. He was forever getting on my ass about not paying attention to my surroundings, and in this case, he’d be right to give me shit over it, considering what had happened.
“We’ve talked about this, Raleigh.”
“I know, I know, but it was such a perfect day, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the new modeling job tomorrow, and there was awesome music playing everywhere I went, so I kind of just got lost vibing with everything and forgot about everything else.”
He sighed as he started adding the spices to the pot and shot me a sympathetic look when he was done.
“It’s not your fault. We shouldn’t have to be on guard from idiots and assholes.
You have every right to get lost in an amazing day.
I just hate that someone came along and spoiled it for you.
He didn’t try to put his hands on you again, did he? ”
“Naa, that was the only good thing about being out in public like that. He just ran his mouth until I hunted down the manager.”
“Good thinking; I’m glad you got the video too.”
“So am I. It was the only thing I could think to do to make him leave me alone,” I said as I started unpacking and putting away the groceries. “I’m really looking forward to tomorrow.”
“Same. Mr. Dorian’s whole setup was one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen. The whole workflow thing with every station lined up so he can move through each stage of the process was so organized. I’ve never really thought about how something went from an idea to actually existing.”
“I just want to play in the playroom,” I said as I went to put the onions, shallots, and garlic in the three-tiered basket rack beside the microwave, only to have him snag an onion from my hands.
“Whatever that is you’re making, it smells delicious.”
“Crabcakes and she-crab soup,” he replied. “They’ll be ready soon. I’d have already been done if I’d remembered to grab onions from the corner store when I popped in yesterday. I only had one, so I made the crabcakes since there is way more prep that goes into them.”
“I’m just going to set the table and sit over here drooling until they’re finished.”
“And afterwards we can watch The Fate of the Furious,” Murry declared.
“I thought we finished that one last night?”
“No, that was seven.”
“Are you sure?” I asked because I was certain that we’d made it to the final movie.
“I think so. I guess we’ll know if I’m right when the opening scene hits.”
“True enough,” I replied as I finished getting the plates, cups, and utensils on the table and opened the fridge to see if there was anything left in the pitcher.
Pineapple chunks floated in pale, homemade lemonade, so I dropped a few ice cubes in our glasses and filled them, then parked myself in my chair to wait for lunch.
I nearly fell out of it when someone pounded on the door like SWAT was about to raid the place.
What the asshole had said, about his old man being a cop, immediately came to mind, and I froze, torn between whether to answer it or pretend we weren’t home.
The knocking stopped as abruptly as it started, the aggressive sound replaced by the far softer blips that suddenly came from my phone.
The message was from Phoenix and read, Open the door, it’s me. Sorry I didn’t text before coming over; I should have warned you I was dropping by.
“It’s Phoenix,” I said as I hurried to the door.
“Let him know I made enough for three if he wants to stick around,” Murry called after me.
“Hey,” Phoenix said when I opened the door, delicious aromas wafting past me. “Damn, something smells good.”
“Murry’s cooking and said to tell you there’s plenty if you want to hang out tonight.”
“I wish I could,” he replied. “I just stopped by to let you know that James wants you to file a police report against the asshole that’s been harassing you. He said that he doesn’t care if the bastard is the son of a cop; it doesn’t give him the right to fuck with people.”
“You could have told me that over a text.”
“Could have, but I wanted to see for myself that there weren’t any new marks on you,” Phoenix admitted as he looked me over.
Yes, he was protective. No, he wasn’t our boyfriend, but he considered us family, and I knew he took it as a personal affront that someone was fucking with me.
“He never touched me, I swear,” I said, stretching out my arms so he could see that there weren’t any fresh handprints around my wrists.
He’d been rigid, standing there in the doorway, but the moment those words left my lips, his shoulders sagged and he leaned against the doorframe, looking visibly relieved.
“Are you sure you guys don’t need me to come with you tomorrow?” He asked.
It was tempting to say yes, considering what had happened today. But I was good at reading people, and after meeting Dorian, I hadn’t picked up on any red flag twinges in my gut.
“Naa, I think we’re good, but we’ll text you afterwards to fill you in on how it went so you won’t have to wait until we get to work to ask.”
“Thanks.”
“No, thank you,” I replied, hugging him.
He damn near squished the air out of me hugging me back, but I loved his hugs as well as his protective nature.
“I’d love to see this modeling thing really take off for you two so you can stop working at the club,” he said as he slowly let me go. “As much as I’ll miss having you around all the time, it will be good for you to experience something different and have the chance to get out of the industry.”
“Aren’t we kind of just exchanging one piece for another?” I asked since the question had been nagging at me a little.
“Naa, they’re night and day, man, like, seriously, two completely different worlds. What he’s got going on in that studio of his is seriously upscale. Besides, working with him, you’ll be far more covered up than dancing on tables and bars.”
“True, I guess I didn’t think of it that way, just that we were still going to be making a living off our bodies.”
“How is that any different from a ballerina or an acrobat?” he asked.
“Their bodies are their tools, the same as yours. If you danced on some fancy-ass Broadway stage instead of a strip club, you’d have people waiting around to hand you flowers instead of trying to grope your ass.
It’s all about perspective. It’s time you start looking at things differently, so you don’t go and sabotage yourself. ”
Nodding, I peered up at him and tried to smile, though I wasn’t sure I managed much of one. “I’ll try.”
“You’ll do, because I know you’re capable of it,” he replied, ruffled my hair, and headed back out to the curb where his Harley was parked.
Aside from Murry, he was one of the few people in my life who’d ever believed in me, which meant more than I’d ever be able to say.
Heading back into the kitchen, I let myself truly think about the possibilities, including the chance, however slim, that someday soon Murry and I wouldn’t have to dance for horny, handsy people ever again.
And how fucking cool would that be!
“He left?” Murry asked when I rejoined him in the kitchen.
“Yeah, he couldn’t stay; he just wanted to check on me and let me know that James wants me to file a police report, so I guess I’m getting up extra early in the morning so I can go do that before we have to be at Dorian’s studio.”
“We will be up early. I’m going with you, and afterwards, we can stop at the diner for breakfast, okay?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” I replied as he started filling our plates.
I could have tried to persuade him to sleep in and insisted I could handle it on my own, but I’d learned a long time ago that when Murry made up his mind about something, the smart thing to do was just hang on and let him lead.