I stare at him as he works on the sleek black cycle. The tail of the scorpion that rests on his upper arm escapes from the sleeve of the tight t-shirt as it struggles over his hard, pronounced bicep. The tiny mole disappears into his mouth with a purse of his full lips. He’s long and devoid of fat except for the round curve of his stomach, the beginnings of a beer belly though he quit drinking months ago. He wraps his hand around a screw on the bike’s handlebars. It looks so small in his large hands.
Chodyn lumbers over. He’s fat, though Marcus will never admit this, the dog is fat. He’s a funny looking creature. 145 lbs of fat slathered muscle jiggle with each heavy step. His silvery tan coat sparkles as he crashes down beside me on the cold concrete floor of the shop. He forces his large snout into my palm and nibbles at my hand. Marcellus, my much smaller companion, bounds around the corner from the showroom. He leaps onto the larger dog’s back and growls playfully. The pit bull mastiff mix snorts and drools on Marcellus. They tumble into a scooter, almost knocking it to the ground.
Marcus is looking at me. Not grinning, not smiling, just staring at me as I stare at the dogs. Watching as I push my unruly black hair from my eyes. A sad smile crosses my face as I look into his bright brown eyes. Marcus walks over and separates the dueling animals, snatching his friend by the scruff of the neck.
“You know? There’s only two things in my life that I could always rely on…Alcohol and my dog. And now that alcohol is out of the picture, I’m left with my dog.” His voice is rich and deep filled with only the slightest drawl to tell of his Southern Louisiana roots. “And my dog would never betray me.”
I don’t know if this is a dig at my infidelity, or his own, but I know a dig when I hear one.
I clear my throat and study a grease spill beneath my heels. Marcellus trots up to me jumping, begging for attention. I lean down to pick him up. The tan and black dog proceeds to remove my make up with his tongue wagging his tail with ever lick. In that moment, I get what he is saying. Dogs are innocent, childlike, and they love unconditionally.
“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I’m here. Even when you’re gone on another one of your sexual escapades, I’m still here. I’ve never intentionally done anything to hurt you. I’ve always been there for you…I think it’s pretty apparent that no matter…” My throat begins to close and my eye twitches threatening to spill tears. Marcellus leaps from my arms, tumbling ungracefully onto the grease spot. His coat is now covered with oil and kitty litter. I laugh to keep myself from crying. “No matter what you put me through I am here for
you…I am here with you. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you.”
His grips my chin between his rough hands and pulls my head up so that I meet his stare. He’s silent momentarily. The corners of his eyes tug on the corners of his lips and a small, tortured smile crosses his face. He places his large thumb over my mouth as he leans down to kiss my forehead.
“I know that. I never said you did. I’ve never thought for a minute that you would.” He turns his back on me, swiping a towel and a water bottle from the counter. He spritzes the water onto my dog, rubbing the towel across the drying litter. Marcellus tries to bite him and the towel as it musses the fur. Without looking at me, he continues. “I’ve made mistakes. I cheated on you. Every chance I got, I slept with her. You didn’t deserve it…Hell, you deserved revenge. But I know that you’re too good for that kind of petty shit. When you told me you had sex with that other man in our bed…You were lying because you wanted to hurt me.” He’s still not looking at me.
A single tear slips from the corner of my right eye. I catch it in the tip of my artificial nail. I look at it; grey from my supposedly waterproof mascara, it catches the light from the shop, and glitters on top of the white acrylic. I wipe it on my leg leaving a thin black streak on my otherwise spotless khakis. I got my painful revenge. I beat myself up over it for months. I had convinced myself that no matter what he did to me, there was a reason for his insanity. But for him to sit here and tell me that he didn’t believe that I slept with that man…It stung worse than the actual act. “So you’re telling me that you are so self-important that you don’t think I am capable of the same actions as you? You’re really going to sit there and call me a liar?” My face is hot and my lips quivers. My knuckles have turned white from digging my nails into the palm of my balled fist. I imagine slapping him. I can almost feel the slight burn as my hand meets his face. I can’t hit him. Instead, I spit. I spit, disturbing the brake dust that has settled on the smooth concrete.
He jerks his head up and glares at me. “Watch your temper.”
“Fuck you, Marcus.” I shock myself, but the damage is done and the words continue to spill from my lips. Regret will hit me later, but in this moment, I don’t give a damn. A shocked look covers his face. “Four years of this BULLSHIT and I’m tired.”
He starts to speak, but I’m not done yet. “Four years of your lies and you manipulation and your self-important attitude and you know what? I’m done. Now. This stops right now. Cam wasn’t the only one. How about you ask Lou? Yep, Lou. Ask him about the fun we had when you were at work. Go ahead. Call him.” I pick up his phone from the wooden shelf and chunk it across the room. Though it was in one piece when I threw it, it’s now in several. The keypad is under one bike and the battery rests in the kitty litter oil mixture.
“What the hell?” Marcus jumps up and begins collecting the pieces of his precious electronic black book. The look in his eyes is frightening. I’ve seen this look before and with this look, things always end badly for me. Not this time. “Don’t even think about laying a hand on me.” The wrench in my hand is heavy and awkward. I’ve never once said anything back to this man. Never once have I raised a hand in my defense. I’m lost and shocked at my own actions. I look down at the wrench. When I do, he grabs my wrists, shaking the lead tool from my grip. The dogs are barking now. Marcellus bites the ankle of his boot. With a swift kick, my tiny friend whimpers and flies across the room. I slam the tip of my pointy toed stiletto into his shin. He releases my wrists. Blood flows freely down the back of my throat and over my lips as the bones of my nose shatter under the weight of his large fist. I scream and begin to choke. Marcus’ best friend growls, furious that someone is harming his master. Chodyn throws all 145 pounds at me pushing me backwards onto a bike. I feel my back snap over the kickstand of the machine. Marcus yells something as he reaches for Chodyn’s collar, but it’s too late. The dog closes his massive jaws around my neck. Teeth tear into my flesh and I lose consciousness.
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