She Was A Perfect Rose Complete With Thorns

A desert storm.

How many Slim, fit, six foot tall ex Marine, tatted babes were there out there. I was already intrigued. The Black miniskirt, and calf high spike heeled boots were influential I admit. She was nearly eye to eye with me. She was also very easy on the eyes.

I couldn't countermand Anthony and told her I was sorry. She did not argue or cause a scene she merely pulled a sharp about face and left. After a moment I told Anthony I wanted quick smoke and stepped out.

She was sitting by the payphone. With a black duffle bag. I lit a cigarette standing by the door. She looked at me , then approached me to very politely ask if she could bum a smoke. Of course I said yes.

It was the first week of January, and cold. We chatted until Anthony gave his Five minutes warning. I tossed her my half empty pack and headed in for the lock up.

I had already gotten my Bottle of Old Weller and Michael Collins single malt. For my Three days off.

I usually worked Four twelves a week. Then had Sunday thru Tuesday off. The three slowest days at Gypsy. Saturday was my Friday.

I had planned to kill a bottle of Irish whiskey with a buddy, and jam on Sunday. Those plans changed

I grabbed a pint of Vodka, and a couple packs of smokes, Anthony rang it up with a smile.

We finished closing out and locked up. She was still sitting by the payphone. Anthony wished me luck with a laugh and headed to his car. I walked down the sidewalk towards Stormy, she stood up and approached me. I smiled and held out the brown paper bag. “ I thought you could use this.” She took it, I turned aside headed for my truck.

As I mentioned it was February, now just after midnight and cold. Add in, she was alone, on Central. I pulled my truck over next to the pay phone and asked her if she needed a ride.

She studied me, my truck, took a shot of vodka and said yes. She tossed her duffle into the bed and climbed in. I had already cranked the heat up. We sat there a moment. “ I am not a hooker just so you know.” She declared while staring straight ahead. Taking sips of the vodka. “ Cool, neither am I, though I am weird.” I replied plugging a Savatage CD into the player.

She digested that for a moment, looking at the dog tags hanging from the rear view mirror before answering, “ Army weird I can handle. “ “ Hooah!” We both exclaimed.

About noon, She called. I found myself back over with her .

There was Mexican food, Vodka, and moonshine. So much for my planned jam session. At some point my phone died. I didn't notice until I remembered to call, some 6 hours late and let the guys know I was not gonna make it.

Sunday afternoon turned into Monday morning which turned into Tuesday, which led to Tuesday evening. At one point we had an intoxicated debate about Rangers vs Marines. Which led to a drunken pushup contest.

To be honest, she was a decade and a half younger than me, and would have likely won. At around fifty pushups I realized this and upped the ante. I managed ten airborne claps before she missed. She face planted. Face first onto the tile floor.

Of course I kissed the booboo to make it better. This led to retiring to the sofa, and more, intimate conversation. I was thoroughly enthusiastic with the direction of the conversation until a knock at the door.

The knock grew louder, more insistent. She got up and looked thru the peephole. Then did a complete spin in place before looking again. There was yelling in Spanish.

She walked back to me, swarmed back into my lap and set about distracting me. The knocking became more intense. I asked, “ hey darlin, is this a problem? I won't mind resolving it.” The voice was clearly male and agitated.

She grew nervous. Decidedly so.

I will give her credit. She had not lied to me. I also had not asked if she had a boyfriend

She told me that he was her Boyfriend. Not ex, current. She actually asked me to climb out the window in the back of the apartment. “ Seriously?!!!”

My response was to stand up. She tumbled from my lap onto the coffee table. I stepped over her, snatching up my jacket as I unlocked and opened the door.

He was somewhat surprised. I am Six foot five, two hundred pounds. He was about five foot seven, at least two hundred soft pounds. He looked past me, to see her, wearing only her bra and panties sprawled on the coffee table. This all occurred in seconds. I looked dead into his eyes as I forced my way past him. “Next.” Was all I said.

He looked from me to her and was confused. She appeared behind him struggling to drag him into the apartment. She was looking at me, “Don't, don't hurt him…“ she kept saying to him.

I pretended to ignore her, got in my truck and left. I looked in the rear view mirror driving away. He was in the parking lot waving his arms and yelling. As for me, I was highly pissed off. At who, I couldn't have said in the moment. I went home.

A few weeks passed. I tried not thinking about her. It wasn't working out so well. I couldn't get her out of my head.

Her fire, her storm, her touch, her taste. Waking up with her in my arms. Then, the little one, smiling at me, climbing me. Calling me his friend. Still, I refused to call her. I refused to reply to her texts. For some reason, I didn't block her.

Valentines day, I was at work. I had volunteered to work, giving a coworker the night off. I didn't have to close so I got off at 10:00p.m, and had the next two days off.

She walked in as I was ringing out. I had already clocked out, was buying a pack of smokes when She walked in. She was a wreck.

Lip swollen, bleeding, Black eye, completely disheveled.

She froze seeing me. We stared at each other. Normally I would have had the night off. Both Anthony and Luther , knew of our recent past. Both uttered the same thing, “Oh Fuck.”

I asked what happened. Took her into the bathroom and did a quick first aid assessment. I was dabbing her face with the gauze from a first aid kit, she filled me in.

I will spare the details. I asked how I could help. The dick head that had done this to her had sent her to the store, for smokes and booze. He also had her kid. He had forced her to move in with him. I did not respond rationally to the situation.

“No, I will take you guys wherever you want, you are not staying there.”

“ He’s got V, ( the three year old) and everything I’ve got left, I have to.”

I said “No. No you don't, I got this. Let's go now.” I led her out to my truck. We left. At the entrance to the apt complex, she begged me to let her out and said she would sneak V out to me. It took some convincing, but against my better judgement I watched her walk across the parking lot.

I sat in my truck by the entrance, where I could see the ground floor apt. The door stood open, He was waiting. She walked in, there was yelling then She was in the Doorway with V in her arms.

The Dick head was trying to force her back into the apartment, slapping her around. I stopped thinking. She was huddled against the red brick wall beside the door sheltering V in her arms. Pendejo was raining blows on her. People were watching and doing nothing.

I stopped my truck right beside where she huddled against the brick wall sheltering V. I Was out, around, and slamming him against the wall before I thought about it. He tried to draw a gun from his waist band, I had already drawn my knife.

Yeah I know, knife, gun fight blah blah blah.

I was pissed, things had gotten sort of red and misty. I left my 10mm, in the truck. This was personal. Sweety pie had been with me since highschool. She had seen me through some interesting times.

He forgot about his pistol. I guess my ten inch fighting knife had his undivided attention.

I Held sweety pie firmly against his throat, pressing hard enough to draw blood, I was looking down directly into his eyes.

I reached down left handed and retrieved his gun. He pissed himself.

I , in command tones, instructed her to put V in my truck, and wait with him there. I didn't give her the opportunity to question. She paused, “ please, don't kill him. Don't make this bad for you.” Then got into the passenger seat of my truck.

“Como Se llamma vatto.” I demanded.

He looked everywhere except at me.

“Betto.” He answered,

“You speak English, ?”

“Si, uh, Yes.”

“Good, stay put don't move, understand?”

“Yes. “

I took one step back out of his reach, sheathing my knife, checking the pistol, making sure safety was off and a round chambered.

He watched me wide eyed.

We had an audience gathered watching. Most were regulars at the liquor store, they knew me. None of them would look at me. All the neighbors there obviously had known what was up and neither had said or done anything to help her.

I pointed the pistol straight at his stomach.

‘ Fuck with me, I will gut shoot you and knee cap you understand? You will die slow.” He nodded.

I explained his task at hand.

An older Mexican woman volunteered to help. Stormy told her where her things were in the apartment. I explained that any one fucked around, betto would find out first.

He told the lady to hurry and not fuck around. There were four trips in and out of the apartment. story's belongings were dumped into the bed of my truck.

After that, Betto whined about me “taking his girlfriend.”

I laughed in his face, “ No bitch, I ain't taking her. You are giving her to me. She is Mine now. “

He didn't say anything.

I kept the Beretta and backed up to my truck. Got in and drove away. No one followed. I pulled into a Walgreens at Eubank and Central for bandages and first aid stuff for her. Before I went in to the store I asked her, “ Where do you want to go? “ “ With you.” She said, V chirped up “ Go with Donn!” I got out and headed in the Walgreens. Picked up first aid stuff. Apple juice, a candy bar, a half pint of vodka, and, coz they were right by the registers, a rose.

Got back out, handed V his juice and candy. “ You know You don't have to. I will take you two anywhere you want to go.”

I handed her the bag. Before she looked into it, she repeated, “ I want to go with you. We want to go with you.”

I wasn't really sure what to do. I went home to my studio apartment. Tucked V and his mommy into my bed.

I grabbed a pillow and laid it on my couch. , I stepped out the door, to smoke a cigarette, and think. It was after midnight, valentines day was over. I went back in, She was stretched out on the sofa, she said nothing, as did I. I didn't sleep well. I could feel her looking at me all night. When ever I looked over, she would hide her face. And She had stolen my dog. Not that I can blame him.

And so, I stumbled into a relationship.

Probably not the brightest move on my part. Still, given the same circumstances, and knowing how it would end. I would make the same choice again. It was a wild ride. And the two of them were worth the costs.

Love is always a good thing.

She is gone now.

I didn't find out the trouble she had gotten into until it was far too late.

They found her body, in a park in the North East Heights.

I, thought it hurt when we split up.

That was nothing compared to the news.

It's been a year and a half since she left this world.

It still hurts.

The anger is worse.

Not angry at her at all.

They still haven't charged anyone.

Most likely never will.

I wrote the following,

Things that I now wish had said and done.

Grief and rage fantasy in prose.

“You were lightning Jersey born, hit me hard just like a storm, I found myself all tangled up in you.

Sweet Irish Whiskey on our lips, your legs so long I couldn't breathe, the only thoughts I had were, you

Then you kissed me sweet and had to leave…

Time goes by and you I see,

Bruised and crying running to me…

Now You tell me that his love is true

Every time I talk with you

Then tell me why you're crying here with me?

I wipe your burning tears away

Listening to what you say

While you try to to hide the bruises I pretend that I don't see.

You run here to my arms

Every time he does you harm

Then as soon as it heals you leave.

Remember when I had him there he pissed himself he was so scared

And You begged me to let him live and breathe

I told you then, that he could live Just as long as you said he did,

And I left him there on his hands and knees.

Now here you are again, you're running scared again,

There's fresh blood among your tears.

This time I'm done with him,

No matter how you beg or plead.

I would rather you were mad at me, never again speak to me,

Than to see them dig your grave.

And so I said bye to you,

Though I’m in love with you,

Though I will never taste your lips again,

I'm gonna end this now, no matter what you say.

This time When you run back to him, it will be to his fresh grave,

And I will be the one that's gone away.

At least I won't ever see your grave.”

Things I wish had been done. What ifs, can leave scars of their own.