Fighting For You (16 page)

“Welcome home, honey.”

Corey

“What are you doing here, Jazmin?”  I asked the half-naked woman lying on the bed that used to be mine. 

She licked her lips as she sized me up, no doubt trying to lure me into her clutches with little moves that made guys wild.  Unfortunately for her, it had no effect on me. “I missed you, Baby.”

When it was clear I wasn’t going to go any closer, she repositioned herself.  Crawling up on her knees, she placed her palms on her thighs. Her arms squished her boobs together, exposing just about everything.

“I’m not your baby or your honey, Jaz.  The last time you were here we agreed it would be your last.” My arms crossed over my chest as I stared her down, feeling nothing but annoyance for this woman. 

“I couldn’t stay away,” she whispered in a low, seductive tone.  Her eyes narrowed and her lips parted—the girl screamed sex.  I had to hand it to her, the woman knew how to play the role of manipulation like a pro.  Then again, a lifetime of practice was only bound to make someone an expert, and that was exactly what she is—a manipulating whore.

Jazmin Montoya used to have a hold on me.  For years, she was able to twist and mold me anyway she wanted to.  Even worse—I craved it.  The viscous fighting would last well into the morning and typically ended with angry sex … and that cycle was usually brought on by the same little moves she was using now.  At that time in my life, after I hit that ripe age of 21, there were only three things in my life that I loved: my sisters, Jazmin and drugs.  The drugs and Jazmin came hand in hand; it took far too long to realize both were toxic and, if I didn’t find a way to wiggle out of the hold they had on me, both would kill me. 

“Cut the fucking bullshit, Jaz!  Why the hell are you here?  Why the fuck did you make me drive out here!?”  Just being near the woman simply made my blood boil. She didn’t even have to open her mouth before I was on edge with the growing need to put my fist through something. 

I watched the countless stories she always had on hand skirt through her eyes.  Just as she seemed to select the best one to use on me, I stopped her.

“And don’t sit here pretending you want to get back together or that you came over for sex.” Watching her eyes darken with amusement at my no-nonsense bullshit was bad enough.  I saw
the challenge arise in them - Jazmin was always so sure that every man wanted her, that this was nothing more than a game to her. 

“I’m surprised you’d think I wouldn’t want to drag your sexy ass out here so I could have some more of that,” she let out a moan and rubbed her hands suggestively over her body. “Amazing sex—don’t act like you don’t remember it.”

Sure I did.  I’m a guy who loves sex, but I don’t care how it used to be because I wasn’t about to feed into her shit.  Besides, every single time with Danielle was so much better than it had ever been with Jazmin.  Because even from that first time we hooked up, I knew there was this extraordinary passion between us that I had never felt before.  The best sex I ever had with Jaz would never come close to a single time with my girl. 

“I don’t remember it, Jaz.  We were drunk and high throughout our entire relationship—if you could even call it that.”

I watched her take in what I said and then open her mouth with a ‘witty’ remark on the tip of her tongue.

“Just save it,” I warned.  It was clear she was losing the power here—and I liked it.  In the past it was Jazmin who controlled everything.  If we were happy or angry, even what we were going to do that night and everything in between was decided by her. 

In the far corner of the little room on my chair was a dark silk robe draped over it.  Without hesitation. I walked over, pulled it off the chair, and threw it at her.  Reluctantly, she sat up and slipped the robe into place while I slumped down into the chair.  I was exhausted.  Not from lack of sleep or from the long drive, just from dealing with Jazmin in general—and we hadn’t even gotten to the heart of why she was here.

“Please, I don’t have time for this shit.  Just get to it.  The last time you were here you said you just needed a place to crash for a few days and a little money to get your feet back on the ground.  I handled both, yet here you are again.”

She gave a resigned sigh.  I waited for her to proceed as she reached over to the night stand, grabbed a cigarette and an ash tray, and returned to her spot.  With her legs crossed in a pretzel style, she lit up and inhaled a long drag.  Since I’ve known her, she has always preferred to smoke in the center of the bed.  It was disgusting and I hated it, but I didn’t have the energy to fight her on that tonight, too. 

“What’s your problem lately, Corey?  The man I used to know loved to help and didn’t try and make someone feel like shit for asking.”

I didn’t bother hiding my eye roll.  The queen of manipulation apparently never rested. “I don’t have a problem.  I just want to go back to my life and stop supporting yours.”

She nodded her head while she inhaled another hit.  The music from earlier must have hit the end of its playlist since the room was so quiet I was able to hear the paper of the cigarette burn up with each drag.

“Ouch,” she responded.

There were only so many ways I could beg for her to answer my questions about what she needed.  Clearly, she still felt the need to control whatever part of the conversation she could.  So I stopped asking
and I waited.  Jazmin took drag after drag. Sometimes she sat silently, contemplating what her next move was, while other times she looked to be singing words of a song that only she could hear.

In the silence surrounding us, I couldn’t help but examine the woman I was once sickly infatuated with.  The first time we met, it was at the first party either of us had been to at this guy Bobby’s house.  I knew Bobby’s cousin from working together at this auto body shop and my friend, whose name I could no longer remember, told me Bobby’s parties were the place to be.  I went and, right away, I noticed that there was something different about the place and atmosphere.  There was tons of booze but that wasn’t all—it didn’t take long before I realized that Bobby was a dealer of heroin. 

I had never done it nor had I wanted to, but that quickly changed.  

I met Bobby and immediately we hit it off. He was a fucking riot and was a surprisingly well-read dude.  We had a few drinks and talked for a good portion of the night until he asked me to come to the basement with him.  That’s when I saw a totally different kind of party. By this point, I was good and wasted, making me more willing to try something dangerous.  That was when I met Jazmin. 

She had her legs tucked underneath her, sitting on a couch that had gone yellow from smoke damage.  I later learned that Jazmin’s friend was Bobby’s girl—one of many.  We were drawn to each other and that was the night we both tried heroin for the first time.  We spent the rest of the night talking and drinking. Later, we found an empty mattress upstairs and went at it until we couldn’t move.  That became a nightly ritual until, one night, it was made official that Jaz was considered my girl. 

Back then Jaz was sexy as hell - thick thighs and hips, great rack and this undeniably sexy way about her.  Now when I looked at her, she just looked wrong.  Her cheeks were hollowed in and her body was nothing but a stick (minus the part she paid to get enhanced).  If only she looked like this when I met her, I would have never got mixed up with her disastrous ass in the first place.

Jazmin put her second cigarette out in the ash tray in front of her, looked up at me, and was finally ready to answer. 

“After I left here I had a place lined up.  I took the money you gave me and I was gonna make shit right.  I was given a second chance and I wasn’t gonna screw it up, ya know?”

I gave a curt nod.  I’ve heard this more times than I could count from her.  It was also the way she made me feel sorry for her in the past.  I was the one who got out of that hell hole and I was the one who worked like hell to make sure I didn’t waste any more of my life.  Every day was a struggle and a fight to not return to that lifestyle, but I did it.  No one understood the personal hell I suffered through each and every day to get my life back.  To this day it, pissed me off to no end when Jazmin used that as her excuse to make me feel sorry for what she was going through.

I couldn’t just say that all to her either - it’d go in one ear and out the other.  So I let her continue her sob story uninterrupted.

“Well, I tried Corey. I really did.  But when I went back over to Bobby’s, he said he had a room for me.  I’d give him a little rent money and help with groceries and we’d be squared away.” She shook her head and looked toward the ceiling, looking for some sort of answer.  “He said he wasn’t dealing anymore, Core.”

It was the almost inaudible catch in her throat and the slight dampness behind her eyes that told me this was serious.  Jazmin’s approach was naturally terrible when telling a story, but this time I could only imagine the kind of trouble she was in. 

Bobby had been many things when we knew him.  He was the life of the party, bit of a player, hilarious, easy to get along with and a dealer that loved to share.  Until you got on his bad side.  It didn’t take long to learn how dangerous Bobby could be.  He had a lot of friends that had his back no matter what went down.  That was one of the things that made people respect him right off the bat. 

But Bobby wasn’t stupid and he wasn’t just the laid back guy he came off as.  If you owed him anything, he would follow you, threaten you, and little by little destroy parts of your life until he got what he wanted.  My issues with Bobby came from the fact that he eventually made me his right hand man and, while I was out in shady parts of town doing drug deals, he was hooking up with Jaz.  All hell broke loose, but that was the thing I needed to finally wake up after all those years. 

Before I walked away from it all, I begged and pleaded with Jaz to come with me.  I told her we could get out and get clean together.  That we were meant for more than this shitty life and losing ourselves in H, while trusting people that were not meant to be trusted.  She chose to stay and, more than once, it has almost cost Jaz her life.

My hands plunged through my hair with my built up frustration at this woman and her stupidity.

“Christ, Jaz!  What the fuck were you thinking!?  I did not give you money to go back into that fucking life again!”

She started visibly shaking as she lit up another cigarette to calm her nerves.

“I’m not you, Corey.  I can’t just say I’m done—it’s not that easy!”

I stood up and looked down on her and steam poured from my ears as I continued yelling.

“You’re damn right it isn’t easy, Jazmin!  But you are a fucking coward!  I have helped you countless times over the years. I have given you everything you’ve needed to walk away, but you always fucking go back!  I don’t know how you expect me to deal with your shit now!  This isn’t like a fucking bully at school that I could go tell to knock it off.  Bobby is bad news, Jaz! And you know that better than anyone!”

“Jesus, Corey, I know!”

I was pacing around the room before I realized what I was doing.  I was pissed that she couldn’t do what I did, but I was furious that she was including me—again!  It was bad enough when it was just my life at risk of being turned upside down but now, it wasn’t just me.  In five months, I was going to be a father and I had a woman in my life that I loved.  I would die if anything happened to either of them.  Now, by pure association to me, Dani was in danger and she had no idea. 

“What did you do, Jaz?!  What happened?”

Her eyes darted around the room before her hands began to tremble as she fumbled with the lighter to spark yet another cigarette.

“Well, at first Bobby shared some with me.  He offered it to me, really. Said I was always gonna be one of his girls and to think of his shit as mine, too.”

I nodded my head with emphasized irritation.  “Yes, and you said you don’t do any of that shit anymore, right!?”

This time Jaz rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah, exactly right.  That’s why I’m here Corey.  Because Bobby was just too nice to me.  Gave me a room, food and H—please, save me,” she mocked.

This, in no way, shape, or form, made me want to help her.

“Continue then with the story about how you once again managed to fuck it all up.”

The phrase, if looks could kill, hit me as I saw the daggers shoot from her eyes.

“Things were cool for a while, just like old times.  Then one night, he was passed the fuck out and I saw his phone go off asking for some stuff.  So, I packed it up and told the dude I was coming.  I’ve never met him before, but he was rich as hell.  I was already out of it, so I dropped it off and then hung out with him.  We drank, smoked, and fucked hard core afterwards.  I stayed there for a few days without any phone and I didn’t tell Bobby what I was doing.  By the time I sobered up from the weekend escape, I realized that the stacks of cash I was paid for the large amount of heroin I supplied him with was gone.  I know I spent some but I don’t know what happened.”

There was only one thought that came to mind as she paused to take another hit of her cigarette—she’s a dead woman.  I’ve seen Bobby do really bad shit to people who did far less. 

“What happened with Bobby?”

“I called him from a payphone to tell him I screwed up.  He told me that if I don’t give him ten thousand dollars, he’s going to kill me.  That I had better run if I didn’t have it because he wasn’t going to show me any mercy if he caught me.”