HARD KNOX(5)

And my mother’s dying words to me…

“Hey, are we almost done here?”

I turned and looked at Porter. His nice shirt was neatly tucked into his nice pants. His black shoes shined like they’d just come off the shelf at the shoe store where he paid more for them than the cost of my first car. His hair was too perfect, along with his jaw, eyes, ears, teeth, and everything else about him.

“Seriously?” I asked. I choked up. “Do you know what today means to me?”

He sat on another gravestone, like a rude prick.

He put his hands up and nodded. Then he grabbed his phone and started to click away.

I faced the gravestone again.

It really was kind of dumb, right? Nobody was here. My mother was gone. Maybe she was in heaven, but I didn’t buy into all that religion stuff. I was staring at a rock. A piece of stone that was cut with her name in it.

The tears flooded my eyes again and I pinched the bridge of my nose.

Porter didn’t like when I cried.

I swallowed it all down and started to walk away.

“Yo,” Porter yelled. “Are we done now?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”

We walked back to his fancy car and I sat in the passenger seat. He climbed into the driver’s seat and dropped his phone. “Hey, babe, come on. I know all that shit is sad and all. It’s not cool. You look better when you don’t cry. That’s all. Hey, we need to talk about Danny and shit. Okay?”

“What now?” I asked.

Each time I stared at Porter my mind asked, What the f*ck are you doing?

The answer was simple.

I was surviving.

Porter made that capable. He said he was part of a family owned car dealership but I knew that was a front for something else. The entire town and city seemed to run on crooked businesses. But Porter had some money, a car, and didn’t mind me. It wasn’t exactly love or lust, but rather acceptance. At least for me.

What did he get out of it?

Someone to come home to, no matter what.

I had stepped right into the footprints of my mother.

“He needs someone to cover at the club tonight,” Porter said. “It’s going to be packed. Some band is playing or some shit. Two of his girls never showed last night and still haven’t shown. Another two are sick or pregnant or something. I don’t know. He’s a mess down there. Jackie and Acey claim that the bartender is cleaning them out little by little.”

“So what do I do?” I asked. “I’m not a detective.”

I should have known better than to talk like that. But the emotion was raw inside me.

Porter grabbed my jaw and I felt like it was going to snap off my face.

“Don’t f*cking give me attitude, woman,” he growled. “Do you need another lesson?”

“No,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

Porter took his hand away. “That’s what I f*cking thought. I’m not one of your dumb cunt friends. Now listen to me carefully. I need you to work the club tonight. End of discussion. Look half decent and sell some drinks and food. Keep an eye on Eddie, the bartender. You see anything funny you tell me. Don’t tell Danny. This is an internal thing. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” I said.

I had plenty of waitress experience since it was the only thing I was qualified for in life. My dreams of pursuing a law degree or becoming a doctor were tossed out the window as soon as I moved into town. I had been under orders from my mother to stay away from my neighbor - Knoxville. Telling that to a teenager girl was stupid. It only made me want him more. So I spent years finding ways to sneak around and meet him. Hold his hand. Kiss him. Let him touch me in places…

“Are you hearing me?” Porter asked.

“Sorry.”

“I’ll be back in town tomorrow. I have a thing tonight.”

“A thing,” I said.

“Car auction.”

I nodded.

That was always his excuse.

When Porter went to a car auction he never came back with cars and he always had a change of clothes on. I couldn’t figure out if he was murdering people or cheating on me. Maybe both.

Maybe I didn’t care.

No, that was a lie. I cared. I cared a lot.

I hated what he did all the time.

“Just don’t f*ck this thing on me,” Porter said. “I’d hate for you to be sick again.”

Sick.

I swallowed hard.

I didn’t want to be sick.

Hiding in a room, trying to let things heal up, scrambling for gallons of makeup to make things look normal if someone knocked on my apartment door.

And to think, this all started because I was dumb enough to buy into Porter’s nice eyes and smooth words. I got him dinner and drinks, he tipped me huge, and then he waited for me outside. He was the only thing that took my mind off what I couldn’t have. Now he wouldn’t let me go. I couldn’t escape him unless it was through death.

“Shit, woman, you look on edge bad,” he said. “You want a good pill or something?”

“No,” I said. “I have to be straight for tonight.”

“Good thinking. See, you’re not that dumb. Now come here.”

Porter grabbed me and pulled me to him. He started to kiss me, slobbering his tongue in my mouth and to my neck. He grabbed my right hand and stuck it between his legs.