Slide (Black Addiction #1) (25 page)

“She’s going to need all the family she can get, but she’s already spooked.” I rubbed the back of my neck trying to figure out a fucking solution. “You know where Phil is? I’m not going to kill him but I want some answers.”

I was serious about not killing him. Not yet at least. But if my fist happened to slip and hit his face while we were conversing then, what could I do? Shit happens. Black eyes too. I’d make sure he’d still be breathing when I left though. I wasn’t about to break a promise.

“You on the level with me, man? Bailing you out of jail isn’t on my to-do list today, neither is paying for a funeral, because we both know that shit will land on me too.” Max narrowed his eyes, trying to get a feel for the situation. Not that I blamed him. He knew me pretty well and had never seen me that mad. He had no idea what I was capable of. Truth be known, neither did I.

“I swear, I just need to know what his intentions are. If he is even thinking about leveraging her for an advantage . . .” The words stuck in my throat as I tried to rein in my anger. “It’s just best he knows that shit isn’t an option. I also want to know why the fucking Houdini act. Wanting nothing to do with her and then reappearing in her life like a bad case of herpes. He doesn’t get to do that shit, and if he plans on having any contact with her, it’s completely on her terms. If she isn’t up for it, your brother takes any expectations to the sidelines and sits on the bench.”

Phil would be begging for death if he even thought about hurting Alison again. On that rule I wouldn’t be bending, so best he heard it sooner than later. The I-didn’t-know wasn’t going to cut it as an excuse.

“He’s crashing at some girl’s house in Brooklyn. He called me yesterday asking me to bring his shit. That’s about all I know.” Max shoved his hands in his pockets, the strain of the situation wearing on his face.

“The stones on him.” I don’t know why I was surprised, clearly the man thought of no one but himself. “He asked you to bring his shit? He should be thanking his lucky stars it’s not torched on the fucking lawn. You been over yet?” It was no secret that I was hoping that the answer was a negative. The two of us delivering the asshole’s prized collection of
jerk-off monthly
sounded like the perfect way to spend what was left of an already shitty day. Besides, if I had a witness there was less chance I’d lose my cool. See, both of us would luck out.

“No, not yet.” Max shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Rus, I’m not sure this is a good idea.” He shook his head, unconvinced.

“Well either we go together or I go by myself. Your choice but either way, I’m going.”

“Fine, but we’re taking Joey too. No way am I going to be able to handle your ass if you channel your inner Hulk again.” Max finally relented.

The compromise was fair, better to have more hands on deck and while Joey wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer he had some killer upper body strength. You never know when you were going to need reinforcements.

“Sounds like a plan. Get Joey and I’ll go start the Camaro. The sooner we sort this shit, the better.”

While I knew making the trek to Brooklyn wasn’t going to get back the woman that I loved, at least it felt like I was doing something productive. It beat the hell out of sitting on my ass and waiting for shit to happen. Now I just had to make good on my promise. The asshole needed to stay breathing.

Pulling myself together over
the last few days hadn’t been easy. The temptation to throw on a pair of yoga pants and eat my way from one end of Renee’s kitchen to the other was almost too great. But I resisted. If for no other reason than she had terrible snacks. Low fat ice cream and sugar-free chocolate? Why the hell even bother? It was like taking a toothbrush to a knife fight, pointless and ridiculously unsatisfying.

“Look at you showering without being prompted.” Renee had looked up from her second cup of coffee. “You are a machine. I’m so proud of you.”

“Hmm.” My hands wrapped the towel around my still wet hair. “I don’t know about the machine part but I’m not out for the count just yet. Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment.”

“Bullshit. You’re one of the strongest women I know.” Renee’s personal brand of motivation shone through as she handed me a cup of coffee. “Have you called him?” The
him
she asked about was unspecified but we both knew who she meant.

“I can’t,” I said, my heart aching at just the thought of him. “Not until I’m stronger.”

“You know that doesn’t make sense, right, Ali? If he cares as much as you say he does, he’s going to want to be there for you. Why won’t you let him?”

I didn’t want to have the conversation. It was the same one that swirled around in my head on an hourly basis. Did I do the right thing by leaving? Had I been overly dramatic? The truth was, I didn’t know. I was winging the whole situation and for once, I trusted myself that I was doing the right thing.

“If all our relationship is built on is him being my hero then I know we won’t last. I needed to see I can do this on my own. To work out what I want, what I need. I know it doesn’t make sense—”

She cut me off before I was able to finish. “Ali, it makes perfect sense. Hopefully he’s smart enough to wait around until you’re ready.”

“I don’t expect him too. It’s been days and I haven’t even called him. Why would he be waiting for me?”

It had been days where I hadn’t even sent so much as a text message; I wouldn’t blame him if he’d given up. He had options, ones that didn’t have so much baggage. It would make sense for him to move on. It was selfish of me to ask differently.

“Um. Because he loves you, silly? I’m sure the man is just as torn up as you are.”

“Maybe.” I didn’t dare hope.

“You’re interview isn’t until three, why are you up so early?” Renee put her empty cup in the sink as she went through her last minute out-the-door routine. The alarm on her phone buzzed as a reminder that she needed to get to work.

“I’m meeting my mom.”

Hearing the words out loud just confirmed what I already knew. If I was going to really stop running from my past, I was going to have to confront it. Let it go and realize that it didn’t define me. As much as I wanted this to be achieved remotely, I knew it wasn’t possible. The woman who birthed me unfortunately was one of the loose ends I needed to take care of. And I thought the job interview was going to be scary. Ha!

“Ooooooooo. You think that is a good idea?” Renee silenced the obnoxious beeping and tossed her phone into her bag. Her feet hadn’t moved any closer to the door.

“Nope, but I’m doing it anyway.” Or so was my new motto.

Don’t know where I’m going? Who cares, going anyway.

Don’t know if it’s going to all end up in tears? Who cares, I’ll pack tissues.

It was time, and I was done being a casualty of my life instead of a participant.

“If I haven’t said it before I’m so proud of you. Shit!” Her eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’ve got to run.” Renee’s prolonged goodbye came complete with a squeeze and a stern “call me if you need anything.” And the door closed behind her.

***

“Hi, sweetie.” My mother slid into the booth opposite me. I’d been waiting thirty minutes, not that being late was anything new for her. I guess I should be glad she showed up at all, her maternal bond nonexistent.

“Hi.” My fingers twisted nervously under the table as I watched the woman I barely knew open the menu in front of me. “I’m glad you came. I know you’re busy.” My voice did little to hide my irritation.

“Is that sass I detect in your voice?” She didn’t miss the sarcasm. “I’m not sure why you think it’s okay to speak to your mother like that.”

Right. My mother. There seemed to be some confusion as to what this term actually meant, a dictionary was something she’d obviously packed away with her nurturing side. Both of them collecting dust.

“I just thought we should talk. It’s been awhile, and with everything that has happened . . . I mean. We should talk, right?” Talking was the
least
we should be doing given the latest developments.

“Look, Alison.” The pretense of concern took little more than seconds to fracture. “If this is about your father, I really don’t know what to tell you. It’s easy for you to stand there and judge me, but I was young. I could have had an abortion but I didn’t. You should be thanking me for that.”

Wow.

And my reason for why our contact was limited to a few phone conversations a year became immediately evident. No wonder I had been a complete basket case. When someone asks you to thank them for your existence, it doesn’t set you up for great things.

Not sure why it had taken me so long to realize, but I was nothing like my mother. It wasn’t because I didn’t get knocked up straight out of high school, or because I had a college education. No, the reason was because I wasn’t a self-absorbed child living in an adult’s body. I was far from perfect, but I had more compassion and ownership over my shortcomings in my little finger than the woman in front of me had in her whole body.

I didn’t need to keep running away from my past. I had been a mile away this whole time.

My eyes were well and truly open. And for the first time ever I knew exactly what I needed to do. I didn’t need her approval. Or anyone else’s for that matter. I had survived in spite of her. In spite of all of it.

“Where are you going?” She grabbed at my arm as I stood up and tried to leave. “Why did you drag me all the way down here if you were just going to leave?”

Her annoyance had once been the badge of my shame, my desire to please her winning out over my own self-preservation. But as I watched her eyebrows knit in their usual disappointment, I didn’t feel a thing. This wasn’t up to me to fix.

“Because I thought for me to move forward, I needed resolution. I thought I needed to work this out.” I shook off her hand as my heart thumped loudly in my chest. “But I now realized that I can move forward just by walking away. Thank you, mother. Thanks for not having the abortion.”

I left her speechless as I walked away. A genuine smile slowly formed on my lips as my feet carried me further from the table and finally out the door. Rusty had once told me I’d deserved better. He was right and I owed it to both of us to make sure that’s exactly what I got.

The encounter might have left me shattered a few months ago but now I was energized. I felt stronger than I’d ever been, and ready for my second chance.

***

In some crazy act of God, I had been given another shot at the interview. And it couldn’t have come at a better time. I was going in all guns blazing, ready to wow Ashlyn and whoever else was in that room. I needed this job. Not because my bank account was currently running on vapors and I was living on my best friend’s couch, but because I was ready to succeed at something again. I was done playing it safe and I was ready to show that I still had some fight left in me. A job would be the first step of many. Steps I would be probably taking alone from here on out. Either way, I wasn’t scared.

Ashlyn welcomed me into her plush minimalist office. Her office supplies neatly aligned and color coordinated. I immediately liked her. The importance of desk order was so often overlooked, so it was good to see someone hadn’t abandoned the practice.

“So, Alison, we’re going to do this a little differently.” She sat down in her luxurious office chair behind her huge wooden desk. “I’ve read your resume thoroughly and it’s pretty impressive. But what I want to hear about is what you aren’t good at. Your weakness.” Her fingers tented in front of her as she waited for my response.

Um. What?

Wasn’t the point of an interview to sell your virtues, not advertise where you sucked? Surely this had to be a trick question, maybe it was to see if I crumbled under the pressure or would answer evasively? No one wanted to hear about all the stuff I couldn’t do, least of all me. I had a whole resume of good stuff I could do. Why couldn’t we talk about that?

“You want to know about my weakness?” I parroted the question in a stupid and obvious attempt at stalling. “I’m too organized . . .” A nervous laugh bubbled from my throat. Yep. Wasn’t fooling any one.

“You know, I sucked at interviews.” Ashlyn leaned back into her chair, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “I’d get so nervous I’d almost be sick. It’s pretty intimidating to be on and try and impress someone in just a short time.” A lock of her beautiful red hair dropped in front of her eyes.

Well wasn’t that the truth. I think my sweat glands had multiplied from the time I’d walked in the door, and all of them were doing their best to make me look like I was having a shower from the inside out.

“So tell me what you can’t do, because I’m looking for someone who can do more than just regurgitate their resume.” She waited patiently while I mentally ticked off my list of flaws and deficiencies. Ordinarily I would have asked her how much time she had, citing a pretty extensive list. But today, there was none of that as I relaxed into the chair. She wasn’t going to get a bumbling, unsure little girl. That’s not who I was anymore.

“I’m not great with relinquishing control.” The first cab off the rank flew out of my mouth with very little effort. “In fact it used to scare the hell out of me. I’m getting better at it though, Rusty . . .” The mention of his name had me stumble slightly. “Rusty, worked with me on pushing out of my comfort zone. I may not like it but I now know I can do it.”

Her brow rose at my response, her eyes curiously studying me. Perhaps she had wanted to ask more about my failed relationship, but she didn’t. It was either professional courtesy or she decided it was none of her business but thankfully she completely ignored the mention of his name and my momentary lack of focus. If it wouldn’t have been so inappropriate I would have reached across the desk and kissed her. The kindness in not asking what happened with Rusty, overwhelming me.

“Tell me how. Explain how it was a challenge and why you think you have a handle on it.” She pushed a little further, not content with single sentence answer.

“I’ve been a paralegal for a long time. Not because I wanted to, but because it was convenient. That’s how I’ve lived most of my life. I’m willing to take chances now. Try something new, even if it means uncharted territory.”

“Sounds like a positive to me. What else do you struggle with?”

With each new suggestion of things I did badly, I had an equally implemented solution to suggest. Whether it was achieved through my own personal growth or Rusty’s wax-on-wax-off method, I’d gained a heap of confidence. The weakness I’d once seen in myself had slowly melted away.

“I guess I’m not afraid anymore,” I responded as to why I was looking for a career change. “Fear doesn’t have to paralyze me. There will always be things I can’t do but that doesn’t negate what I know I can do exceptionally well. I’m organized, I’m thorough, and my attention to detail is acute. It doesn’t matter if I’m filing legal briefs or dealing with recording contracts. The skill set is the same and I’m ready to challenge myself in a new industry.”

Well look at that. I was not only no longer a doormat but I could stand tall and proud all on my own. And even though I knew I wasn’t perfect, I knew I’d work it out. It was a modern day renaissance, and I was my own Sistine Chapel celling.

Ashlyn listened intently as I spoke. With my deficiencies laid bare before me, the follow-up questions didn’t seem at all nerve-racking like they usually were. I was able to answer with no hesitation. I’d never been so relaxed in an interview and even if I didn’t get the job, I’d be hitting the next interview out of the park.

“Well, I think I’ve seen all I needed to see.” Ashlyn tapped the stack of papers in front of her on the desk before tossing them in the trash. “When can you start?”