Deuces Wild

“Don’t worry, babe. It’s gonna be all right.” I take her hand in mine and we climb the stairs. She uses a key to let us in the front door.

“It’s at the end. Apartment 14,” she tells me.

Apartment 14 has a dirty welcome mat with the first three letters worn away so it only says “come.”

“That’s Ricky’s doing,” Mallory says. “He’s got the sense of humor of a ten-year-old.”

“Sounds like an insult to ten-year-olds,” I quip. “You got the key to the apartment, too?”

She fits it into the door and shoves it open. It’s quiet, which surprises me. I thought someone would be up. It’s Saturday and nearly ten a.m.

“They might still be in bed,” Mallory whispers. She points to a closed door off to the side. I release her hand. Seeing this place makes me wish I’d found my girl sooner.

“Stay here. No need for you to see old Ricky’s sausage.” Although he seems like the type to pull his shorts on immediately after sex.

Mallory grimaces at the thought. “Yeah, okay.”

I start for the door, but she grabs my hand. “Please, don’t do anything that gets you into trouble.” She pleads with her eyes.

“I won’t,” I reassure her, giving her another hard kiss. After she releases me, I cross the room and then with one swift move, kick in the door. Sure enough, the two were sleeping. Mallory’s mom shoots out of bed, clutching the sheets to her chest and leaving Ricky with his boxer-clad ass exposed.

There’s a glass of half drunk amber liquid on the nightstand. I grab it and throw it in the man’s face. He jerks up with a sputter.

“What the fuck?” he roars.

“Who are you?” Mallory’s mom squeaks.

“You’re Ricky, right?” I just want to make sure I’m going to beat the right man.

“Yeah, who are you, punk?” He starts to get up but I lay him out with a right hook.

“Oh my God,” cries the mom. “Did Pat send you? I swear we were going to pay for those drugs. We just got a little behind.”

“Shut up, bitch,” growls Ricky, holding his jaw with his right hand. “Look, if you are from Pat, we’ve already made a deal.”

“Not from Pat, but it’s nice to hear you admit you’re a dirty criminal. Come on in, honey. The asshole is getting dressed.” I swipe a shirt off the floor and toss it to him. “You, old lady, your daughter is here. She’s got something to say. After she says it, I’m going to finish teaching Ricky a lesson on what happens when he disrespects my girl and then I’ll leave you five hundred. That’s the last of the contact we’re all going to have. Got it?”

“Mallory? Mallory is here?” Her mom flies across the room. I step in her path before she can reach my girl.

“Uh-uh. No more manipulations out of you. Mallory is doing the talking and you’re going to listen.” I snap my fingers in Ricky’s direction. “I told you to put that shirt on. Don’t make me ask again.”

“Or what?” he sneers.

I leave the mom and walk over to the bed and slam the glass into the side of his face. He lets out another shout of pain and tries to tackle me. I step aside and he falls flat on his face. Mallory’s mom starts screaming while Ricky struggles to his feet. He charges again. Instead of stepping aside, I punch him in the jaw again. This time when he goes down, he doesn’t get up again. I throw the T-shirt on top of his exposed back.

“I thought you weren’t going to bury him,” Mallory says from the door.

I rub my knuckles with one hand. “I don’t see any dirt here. You got anything to say to your mom?”

Mallory gives me a stiff nod and turns to the older woman, who’s standing in the middle of the room with a sheet barely covering her body and her jaw gaping wide.

“I’m sorry I took Ricky’s wallet. Here it is with all the money intact. He was trying to get me into bed with him and I was worried he wouldn’t take no for an answer so I took his wallet and ran away.”

“What are you talking about? Ricky would never—”

“You either believe your daughter or you shut the hell up,” I snap. I know she told her mom before about Ricky and she brushed her off. Mallory’s mom was keeping Ricky around for the drugs. It isn’t him that she is necessarily picking over her own daughter but the addiction.

“What? How dare you—”

“Okay, you don’t have to have the money back.” I take Mallory’s hand and pretend to leave.

“Wait. Wait.”

We turn back. Mallory’s mom licks her lips.

“How much did you say was in the wallet?”

“How much do you want it to be?” I ask. “It can be more if you make sure Ricky forgets Mallory ever exists. Otherwise, I’ll be coming back to take your home, your job, and anything else you need to survive. I’ll put you out on the street so that you’ll have to beg on your knees to be fed.”