Playing With Fire (22 page)

“In prison, I didn't care about much. But I had two girls I had to think about, and I figured how they saw me was just as important as how I saw myself. I loved my daughters, and I knew they loved me, but that I would never have their respect. That I had to earn and I couldn't earn it drinking. I made my mistakes. We all do. People who love us learn how to forgive us. Taryn will learn how to forgive you.”

Romeo swallowed the last of the eggs, choking down dry toast and a short glass of orange juice behind it. “I don't know what got into me, Malcolm. I was just so angry.”

Malcolm shrugged. “The alcohol is what got into you. It'll mess a man up every time. You found your daddy, then he leaves you. You didn't agree with the way your mother handled her life and yours, and you didn't know how to cope. You had every right to be angry. What you did not have the right to do was take it out on the people who love you. But you let the booze tell you how to handle things. You stopped thinking for yourself. That was your mistake. Now you'll get over it and so will we.”

“I guess,” Romeo responded, looking at Malcolm with acute uncertainty.

“Grab your coat,” Malcolm said, tapping his palm against the counter as he rose to his feet. “We've got to make time.”

Romeo looked at him, confusion etched on his face.

“I'm taking you to one of my AA meetings. I think you need it.”

Romeo looked him in the eye, his stare piercing. “Look, Malcolm, I don't think—” he started.

Malcolm returned the gaze with one of his own, holding up his hand to interrupt Romeo's thoughts. “Twelve steps, Romeo. But you have to be willing to take the first one, and that's admitting you have a problem. Alcoholics Anonymous is a necessary step for a man who can't remember throwing his fist at a woman who loves him. Don't you think?”

Following behind the man, Romeo hung his head, badly wishing he could take just one last sip of strength to get him through whatever lay ahead of him.

Eight weeks and twice as many meetings had kept Romeo from picking up a bottle. The temptation still lingered against the back of his throat, an irritating itch a shot of scotch could have easily scratched, but Romeo sipped water instead. When the desire became overwhelming he turned to Malcolm, who had volunteered to sponsor him. Malcolm's blunt reminders that he had to take it one day at a time helped ease Romeo's anxiety. In this program of abstinence, he knew he had to take it minute by minute, one craving for a drink at a time. Strangely, he found this easier to do at the club, when there were other people around him, than when he was home, alone.

As Romeo lined the new shipment of alcohol against the wooden shelves, he noted to the minute the anniversary of his last drink. He'd fallen into a comfortable routine of work, work, and more work, adding an occasional night of sleep in between. Malcolm kept a watchful eye over him, being as supportive as Romeo would allow him to be. At first, Odetta and Sharon had walked on eggshells around him, afraid to set him back on his destructive path, and it had only been in the last few days that he could feel that old level of comfort returning between them. Taryn had not returned his calls. He sighed deeply as he placed the last bottle in its place.

He didn't want to miss Taryn anymore. He didn't want to deal with the uncertainty, the unspoken hurt that lay between them. He'd messed up, badly, and he knew that eventually he would have to at least face the truth of what he'd done before he could attempt to make amends for it. Taryn deserved that from him and more.

Aleta entered the room as he stood staring out into space, his gaze lifted upward in silent prayer. She watched him, studying the features that were so much like his father's features, and the hurt of missing Piano Man shot through her, sharp and raw. Closing her eyes tightly, she took a deep breath, inhaling oxygen as if there would be none left if she didn't. Romeo turned to stare in her direction, the two meeting each other's gaze with mournful eyes, and barely a stretch of a smile.

“Hey, Aunt Aleta,” Romeo said, extending his arms toward her as he stepped in her direction.

“How are you, darling?” Aleta asked, returning the warmth of his hug as he wrapped his arms around her.

“I'm doing okay. Taking it a step at a time.”

“I'm glad to hear that. And I'm glad to see that you're doing better. You had us all worried there.”

“I still owe you an apology,” Romeo said as he pulled a chair up for her to sit on. “I really am so sorry for how I behaved. I just wasn't myself. I was so lost and just couldn't figure out how to find me.”

Aleta smiled. “I can understand that. It was a lot thrown at you at once. Besides, your daddy could get just as mean when he'd been drinking too. You got it honest.”

Romeo's eyes darted from side to side as he took in that statement. “He told me once that I was an alcoholic. I didn't pay him much attention though. I guess knowing that about himself helped him to see it in me.”

Aleta wrapped her hands around his. “So, how is everything else? How's that young lady of yours holding up? I haven't seen Taryn around at all.”

Romeo's eyes dropped down to the floor. He shrugged his shoulders. “She still won't speak to me. I haven't been able to make her understand that I wasn't myself.”

“That's not what you need to make her understand,” Aleta said, chuckling softly. “Romeo, she knows you weren't yourself. What she doesn't know is what's in your heart now and what steps you plan to take to insure you never behave that way again. She thought she could count on you and you failed her. You broke her trust and now you're going to have to work to build that back up.”

“How do I do that when she won't even talk to me? I've left a dozen messages for her and she's not bothered to call me back once.”

“Why should she? You threw her out. You broke her heart. Why should she make it easy on you by calling you back? She doesn't owe you a thing. Nothing. Bottom line, if you want her, then you're going to have to go after her. You're going to have to fight a hard fight to get her back and it is not going to be about whether or not she's willing to pick up the phone to call you, but just how much you're willing to do for her.”

Romeo clasped his hands in front of him, throwing his head back against his shoulders. He looked up toward the ceiling, then back at Aleta. “I get it, Aunt Aleta. I guess I was just afraid that if I put myself out there and she rejected me . . .” His voice stalled, the prospect of his words knocking the breath from him.

Aleta rubbed her hands against his. “It took your daddy most of his life to stop running from things that he thought would be too hard for him to deal with. I think he figured out in the end that had he dealt with the tough stuff head on, from the get-go, then things could have been very different for all of you. Learn from his blunders, Romeo. Don't make the same mistakes he did. You have far too much to lose if you do.” The woman rose to her feet.

“Call me if you need me,” she said, heading toward the door. “You know I'm here for you.”

“Thanks, Aunt Aleta. I love you.”

Aleta smiled, turning about in the doorway. “I love you too, baby boy. Now, go. Straighten out your mess.”

Nodding his head, Romeo lifted a hand and waved good-bye.

 

 

It had taken five well-timed telephone calls to the right people to access the information that had Romeo waiting patiently for the arrival of British Airways' last flight out of London. With the plane already twenty minutes overdue, Romeo paced the floors in anticipation of Taryn's arrival. Anxiety coursed throughout his bloodstream, feeding his system with exaggerated energy. Above his head, the illuminated flight board announced that British Airways flight number 276 had landed. His anxiety increased at the prospect of finally reconnecting with Taryn.

Within minutes of the plane's arrival, passengers streamed down the ramp way into the airport waiting areas. Families greeted kin excitedly, the ring of exuberant voices wafting through the air. As Taryn stepped out into the open area of bodies and black metal chairs, Romeo felt his heartbeat increase as he drank in her appearance. He held up the placard that had been resting at his side, the woman's name printed in bold, black writing. He smiled shyly.

Taryn stopped short, meeting his wistful gaze with her own curious stare. Her expression was less than pleased as she took in the fullness of him, reacquainting herself with his fine features. Resuming her stroll, she brushed past him, not bothering to utter a word as she made her way to the luggage claim area. Romeo winced, inhaled deeply, then turned to race behind her.

“Taryn, please.”

“Go away.”

“Baby, I've got to talk to you. I'm so sorry for what happened.”

Taryn glanced at him from the corner of her eye, barely gracing his body with a full gaze. “Why are you here?” she hissed, still strolling in the direction of the arrival area.

“You needed a ride home and I needed to apologize. I figured I could kill two birds with one stone.”

“You were wrong.”

“Taryn, don't do this. Please.”

Taryn turned toward him in anger, her eyes racing from his freshly cut head to the tips of his leather shoes. “Don't do what? Don't tell you where you can go? Don't tell you what I think about you? And what if I do? Then what? Will you take a swing at me? Will you try to beat me? Will you call me a whore? Sorry, but we've been there, done that, and worn the T-shirt, so don't you dare tell me what I can or cannot do.”

Romeo's head dropped down against his chest and swayed slowly from side to side. He struggled with the rise of water over his eyes. “I was wrong. I know that. But I would never do anything to hurt you, Taryn. I love you.”

Taryn raised her hand, pointing a finger in his direction, pain spilling out with the words rushing past her lips. “No. Don't you dare say that. You did hurt me. If you had loved me you would never have done what you did.”

Romeo reached out to clasp Taryn around the shoulders, pulling her tightly against him. Her tears washed down over his chest, the onslaught of moisture spilling openly over her cheeks. “I'm so sorry, baby. God knows I would hurt myself before I'd ever think about hurting you. I love you, Taryn. I messed up, big time, and I know it. I know that I have a problem and I've been working on it. But I can't do it without you, Taryn. I need you. You're the only thing good in my life that I have left. It will kill me if I lose you. I love you, Taryn. I love you so much.”

Around them, a small crowd was pretending not to watch the commotion between them. Others stared openly, some whispering words of encouragement or taunting heckles. Romeo held her close within his arms as she clutched at the front of his shirt, her face pressed into his chest.

He dropped his head to whisper against her lips. “Please, baby. I'm begging, girl. Let me make it up to you. Let me try. I have never loved anyone the way I love you. Please, Taryn, please love me back.” He kissed her softly, lifting her chin in the cup of his hand to press his mouth against hers. “I love you, Taryn,” he repeated.

Taryn inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of him. She shook herself out of his arms, fighting to regain her composure. Turning to the rotating belt lined with leather and canvas luggage, she reached for her bag and pulled it off the conveyor. “Does this mean the car service isn't coming for me?” she asked, turning back to look up into his face.

Romeo nodded sheepishly. “I'm it,” he replied.

Taryn stood there still staring at him, neither one of them saying another word. Around them people were still stealing glances in their direction. Pushing her bag into his hands, the woman nodded her consent, then turned to follow him out of the airport toward the parking garage.

As they made their way to his car, Romeo could tell by her body language that he may have won a small battle, but the war had just begun. Taryn was not going to be moved so easily. Her lean figure was cautious, tension gripping her limbs. Her expression was painted with confusion and annoyance, her eyes purposely avoiding his as he placed her luggage into the trunk of his vehicle and then moved to open the passenger side door.

As she moved to get inside, Romeo stepped in toward her. His hand shook ever so slightly as he pressed his palm to the side of her face, gently stroking the soft flesh. When she lifted her gaze to meet his, the stare she gave him was challenging at best, but with the nearness of her invading his senses, Romeo felt more committed than ever to take himself to task.

He smiled, allowing the warmth of it to wash easily over her. And then he spoke. “I will do whatever it takes to prove myself to you, Taryn. I don't care how long it takes or what I have to do, but I plan to fight for us, for you. You're in my heart and I love you with everything in me.”

He paused as he let his words settle around them both, the comfort of his proclamation wrapping around her shoulders like a much needed blanket. Taryn's stare was still locked with his, but she'd not responded at all. Romeo lowered his lips to hers and kissed her again. The gesture was slow and easy and his mouth skated gently against hers. Taryn moved as if to kiss him back, then broke the connection, stepping back out of his reach. She shook her head, waving it from side to side. Sliding into her seat, she finally responded. “Take me home, Romeo.”

He chuckled under his breath as he glided to the driver's side of the car and got inside. His broad smile was like an exclamation point punctuating his emotions.

“I mean it,” Taryn repeated. “Take me home. Now.”

Romeo slipped his key into the ignition and started the car. “No. Not yet,” he said, determination coating his words. “Not until we talk.” He pulled the car out of the parking space and headed for the airport exit.

“We really don't have anything to talk about,” the woman said, her voice rising ever so slightly.

Romeo shrugged. “I beg to differ. I have a lot to talk about. You can just listen if that's what you want.”

Taryn glared, cutting an eye in his direction. “What I want is to go home.”

Romeo sighed. “You will. Soon. But right now I need you to trust me. Please.”

A pregnant paused filled the space between them, swelling new and full with anticipation. “So, where are we going?” she finally asked, breaking the silence.

Romeo smiled again. “To find my absolution,” he said softly.

Taryn rolled her eyes skyward, but she said nothing, settling back against the leather seat as he made his way toward the highway and the center of town. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he reached to turn on the CD player, pushing gently against a CD that protruded out of the slot. The rich voice of blues songstress Gaye Adegbalola suddenly filled the space. It was her CD, one Romeo had gifted to her months earlier. They'd played it over and over again, memorizing the words and singing along as they'd traveled from place to place. Taryn had never once thought of taking it with her, feeling that it fit the space they shared as much as she had fit into Romeo's space and he into hers. She tossed him another quick look, noting how his head bobbed in time with the music.

When Gaye began her rendition of “
You've Really Got a Hold on Me
,” Taryn reached her palm out without thinking about it and pressed it against Romeo's arm. She squeezed the flesh lightly, then shifted her hand back into her lap and her gaze out the passenger window. The warmth of the gesture flooded Romeo's spirit and he could feel the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He heaved a deep sigh, the duo still not saying anything to each other.