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It seemed as if the root of all my problems was Kane. If not for him, I might still have Kathleen in my life. If not for him, I wouldn’t be spending so much of my waking life looking over my shoulder to make sure the stupidity and bad judgement of my past wasn’t sneaking up on me again. If not for him, I wouldn’t be making myself crazy or working my muscles until they were burning with fatigue and I was in danger of pulling them and leaving myself unable to walk.
The sounds I was making as I lifted and lowered my legs in one hard, furious rep after another actually reminded me of the kinds of sounds I might have made in bed with Kathleen. The difference was that with her it was fun, and the noises I was making right now, with beads of sweat flying from my face, were more like noises of punishment.
Perhaps I was trying to punish myself in a way. Perhaps I was inflicting this pain on myself not to stay in shape, but as a punishment for things I’d done and couldn’t change, for the idiot that I’d been when I was younger, and the kind of company I used to keep.
At some point, after I didn’t know how many reps, I reached that point Ben had coached me about so many times: the point of failure, where the muscles in my legs burned so badly that I just couldn’t go on. I stopped and sat hunched over on the bench of the leg machine, panting hard, wiping my forehead, my T-shirt wet with perspiration. I thought the failure from the fatigue that I’d given my muscles was a fitting thing, the symbol of the failure that I had once been in life, putting too much stock in a friendship with a lowlife.
By that time, Ben had walked his newbie client through a workout on some other upper-body machines and the newbie decided to hit the showers. That left Ben to cast a watchful eye out over the gym for other members who might need some help. That definitely meant me — but not for a workout.
I hauled myself up from where I was sitting, with my thigh muscles and calves complaining bitterly at me, and half-walked and half-staggered over to where Ben stood. The eyes of my trainer and friend quietly said,What did I tell you?as he watched me approaching.
“Don’t tell me,” said Ben. “It’s about your ‘old friend’ who’s coming back to town, right?”
Puffing, nodding my head, I replied, “Yeah.Him.I only wish there were some way he could fall into the Erie Canal and never get back out before he gets here. Damn it all.”
“He really was bad news,” Ben said.
“I’m not saying I’m blameless for how my life used to be,” I admitted, soberly. “Nobody told me to be friends with a loser, and nobody told me to let him screw me up so badly. I could have woken up to the kind of guy he was thefirsttime he got me into trouble.
“But, guys like Kane Marcus have a way about them. They have no business being as slick and charismatic as they are. It’s only when you’re ready to put them behind you that you really see them for what they are. They have to take you right up to where you’re either going to go over the edge with them, or pull yourself back in the nick of time, and that’s when you finally recognize them for their real selves — and how they were making you just like them.”
“But, youdidpull yourself back,” he reminded me. “Youdidn’tgo over the edge with him, right?”
“No, I didn’t,” I said. “But, Kane is going to come back here, and he’s still going to be the way he always was, and he’s going to expect me to be the way I was with him, and I’m going to have to make him see somehow that it’s not happening.”
Ben gave me a friendly slap on the shoulder with the back of his hand. “You’ve got this. You’vegotthis. Listen, anyone who can pull himself out of the gutter where this guy was dragging you and make the kind of life you’ve made for yourself? This guy isn’t getting anything over on you. Elijah, man, you’re too good for himandtoo smart for him.”
“I know what you’re saying, and I appreciate it,” I told him. “What I need most now is to protect myself from the kind of thing that Kane can do to my life. Because he probably knows how I’ve got myself set up now, and he’s sure to work every angle and pull any kind of leverage he thinks he can get away with. And, I’m the lever he’ll want to pull. I need to protect myself from that.”
Nodding in understanding, Ben said, “You can do it. Any help I can give you, I’ve got you. You know that, right? I’ve got you.”
He offered me his fist to bump. “I know, man. Seriously, I know that,” I said. As I glanced across the gym where guys were repping away on this machine and that, my eyes fell on a particular place that looked very inviting just now. “You know what? Those punching bags are about as wide as Kane’s body, and I can just picture his face on them. Know what I’m saying?”
He chuckled and gave me a little squeeze on my shoulder. “I knowjustwhat you’re saying, buddy. You go to it. Give ‘em hell, and think about what kind of hell you’ll give Kane if he tries anything shady with you. Give the old bags a punch or two for me while you’re at it.”
“I’ll do that,” I said, swapping a smile with him. And with my legs complaining just a little less, I made my way over to where the punching bags awaited my pleasure.
There was a rack of gloves near the bags, and I picked a pair in my size and slipped them on. I went up to the nearest bag, imagined that the hanging sack of leather was Kane’s midsection, and I mentally put his face and head at the top of it. I gritted my teeth at it and rumbled, “Why thehelldoyouhave to come backnow?”
And with the first of many hard swings, I went for his stomach and let my stand-in for Kane Marcus have it.
CHAPTER6
Corinne. Saturday
The trunk of my car closed with a decisive thump that sounded as firm as the way I’d made up my mind about what I was doing. My course was set. My new life adventure was about to begin.
My first challenge would be to get on the road without melting into tears. It was one I was already failing. After closing my trunk, I wiped my eyes. No matter how much I may be looking forward to a new adventure, walking away from what I had was hard. I turned around and looked at the house where I grew up, and played back a little movie of memories in my head about the times I’d had there when Mom was still with us, when the family was still intact. I could only guess that my father and sister, standing nearby, were playing something very much like it for themselves.
The way Daddy started to choke up wasn’t helping matters. We had talked about this — how I shouldn’t feel guilty about the choice that I’d made, how it didn’t mean I was abandoning him and leaving him alone with the last of his grief for Mom. We had talked about how I needed to find my own way and live my own life, and how this would always be home and he would always welcome me back, no matter what.
Daddy had told me that it didn’t really mean letting go of each other. He compared it to taking a step back with hands and arms and hearts always open. We’d been sitting at the kitchen table when we had that talk, and I’d dissolved into tears over it. He took me in his arms and shed a few tears of his own, just the way he was going now. He was not one of those men who were ashamed to cry. As the father of two daughters, he had learned the value of tears long ago.
Leanna was standing next to him, her eyes wet and her lips quivering. Like a little girl, I ran into Daddy’s arms. He wrapped me up in them, and we just softly sobbed that way for a moment.
“I love you, Daddy,” I wept at him. “I’ll be fine. I’ll call you all the time.”
“You just call when you need to,” he said, squeezing me tightly. “Make your life, little girl. Make it what you want it to be, and don’t be dwelling on your old man all the time. I’m not going anywhere. It’syouwho’s going places.” He rocked me in his arms. “I only wish your mother could know the places you’re going to go in life.”