He shook his head, his face stil held anger but it was softening.
“You ain’t fired, child, but you ain’t comin’ back either.
You’re not safe here. I’l hold your job open until you can come back and not get shot at.”
My world, already spinning out of control, tilted and I could swear I was going to fal off. There was absolutely nothing to hold on to.
So I held on to the only thing I ever had.
I squared my shoulders.
I hadn’t been in worse spots than this, it was true, but I had also always made my own way.
I’d do it again.
Somehow.
“Fine,” I snapped and walked away from Eddie, right by Smithie and through Daisy, Indy, Al y, Lee, Carl, Tod and Stevie and a dozen dancers, bouncers and waitresses.
Fuck it.
Fuck it al .
I walked into the club and behind the bar, grabbed my purse and coat, pul ed my cel out of my apron and handed the apron to the bartender.
“I’l come back for my tips,” I said to him and walked to the front door.
Eddie was standing there. I didn’t look at him.
I had no idea where to go or what to do. The only thing I knew I wasn’t going to do was cry, even though I wanted to, real y, really badly.
I hesitated when I got outside and Eddie grabbed my hand and pul ed me to his truck. We got in, took off and rode to his house in complete silence. I should have protested but I didn’t have it in me. I was struggling for control of my emotions. I had a man with a knife after me, another man was planning on raping me and another man had shot at me. I had to pick my battles.
Eddie walked me into his kitchen and I slammed my purse on the counter then stood in the middle of the room while he closed the door.
He came at me but I skirted around him, walked back to the door and threw it open.
I leaned over and took off one of my stiletto-heeled pumps and threw it in the backyard and did the same with the other one. I closed the door and turned to Eddie.
He was staring at me, residual hostility stil glittering in his eyes.
“I hate those shoes,” I told him.
I walked through the kitchen and into his bedroom and started to open and shut drawers, or more like, yanking open drawers and slamming them shut, looking for a tshirt.
Eddie came in, gently tugged me away from my assault on his innocent dresser and started to pul me in his arms.
“No!” I wrenched free, “I need to go to bed. I need a tshirt.”
I turned to the drawers. He pul ed me back and into his arms, this time less gently and with more determination.
“Don’t, Eddie. I’m hanging on by a thread here,” I told his throat. If he held me, I’d lose it, I knew it.
“Why?”
My eyes lifted and I noticed his were guarded but the hostility was gone.
“Why what?”
“Why are you hangin’ on?”
I stared at him.
“I can’t let go,” I told him, thinking it was obvious.
“Jet, everyone has to let go.”
“Not me,” I replied.
His arms tightened and I tensed and pushed away. It didn’t get me far but I concentrated on the act anyway.
“Why not you?” he asked.
I didn’t answer. He shook me.
“Why not you?” he repeated.
The tears hit the back of my throat and I gulped them down.
“Jet,” he said.
I shook my head but answered.
“I can’t because there’s no one to catch me when I fal .” His guard went down and his eyes warmed. He’d looked at me with warm eyes before but never like this, they came complete with a look so tender it made my breath catch.
“Everyone’s got their hands out waitin’ for you to take one. Cariña, you gotta learn when to take someone’s hand before you fal .”
I couldn’t help it, I couldn’t take anymore. I put my forehead to his chest, slid my arms around his middle and relaxed into him. Then, I felt the tears rol down my cheeks.
He stood there, holding me and stroking my back for awhile. I had to admit, it felt good. Super good.
We both heard the doorbel go and Eddie said quietly,
“That’l be Jimmy.” He pul ed a little away and looked down on me, “You gonna be okay?”
I wiped the tears away and nodded. He kissed my forehead and that felt good too.
We walked into the living room and Eddie let in Detective Marker. He greeted me, his eyes soft with concern. A handsome black man and a young-looking white guy, both in uniform, came in with Detective Marker.
Eddie introduced them as Sergeant Wil ie Moses and Officer Brian Bond.
“Sorry, we have to ask you a few questions, while it’s fresh. It won’t take long.” Detective Marker explained.
I sat down on the couch and answered questions. Eddie stood by the couch for awhile, then I saw him motion with his chin to Wil ie, the black officer, and they both disappeared into the kitchen.
I kept answering questions but glanced into the kitchen every once in awhile.
Eddie and Wil ie were out of sight but once Eddie paced into the doorway, his cel to his ear, his other hand at his hip, then he went out of sight again.
“I think we’re done,” Detective Marker said. “You stil got my card from last time?”
I nodded and so did he.
“Cal me if you remember anything or something else happens,” I nodded again, “Chavez! I’m done,” Detective Marker cal ed.
Eddie and Wil ie came in; I stood and Eddie saw them out the door. I watched out the window as Detective Marker drove off and Eddie, Wil ie and Brian stood on the sidewalk next to the squad car. Eddie was talking, Wil ie and Brian listening. Wil ie looked up to the house and said something to Eddie and Eddie looked too. I stayed at the window and kept watching. He disengaged from them with a low wave. I remained where I was as he came back in.
His eyes locked on mine after he closed and secured the door.
“Let’s find you a t-shirt,” he said quietly.
I didn’t move.
“What was that al about?” I jerked my head to the window. I had my arms crossed and I was trying not to look as exhausted as I felt.
Eddie came up to me, flung an arm around my neck and took me into the bedroom. He let me go, opened a drawer and handed me a white t-shirt.
I took it and stared at him.
“What was that about?” I repeated.
He turned square to me but didn’t touch me.
“You’ve been branded.”
I blinked.
That didn’t sound good.
“Pardon?” I asked.