Page 76 of Ryker

This woman awakes a side of me that hasn’t been touched in a long time…

I’m so fucking exhausted. Between patching up Dmitri’s injuries, being up all night with my mom while she puked, and then getting a random call from one of my clients saying they wanted to meet up at four in the morning, my damn eyes are blurry.

Everything hurts. My head. My heart. My legs and back.

Pulling out my cell, I check to make sure I don’t have any new messages. I should catch the bus back home, but I slowly walk towards the butterfly conservatory instead. It doesn’t open until nine am, but sometimes I’m able to sneak in early and have the place to myself.

Ryker: You working today?

Knox: Yeah. Already here. U good?

Ryker: Be there in five. Let me in.

Knox: k

Massaging the back of my neck does little to ease the pressure. By the time I reach the employees only entrance of the conservatory, Knox is already waiting with the door open. His brown staff shirt isn’t even tucked in.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” I pat his cheek and slip by him to head inside. “How long do I have?”

“’Bout forty minutes.”

I can’t stay that long.

The heavy door slams shut, plunging us into darkness. Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I navigate through the lockers, tables, and greenhouse area for new plants, and push open a set of beige doors that dump me into the conservatory. Humid, warm air hits my face, and though the morning light streams in from the glass ceiling, it’s still a little dark in here.

Or maybe it’s my mood.

Fuck, I wish I was in my hoodie and jeans right now. I’m sick of wearing suits. Sick of sewing buttons back on my shirts and reinforcing my pockets. I make a lot of money, but none of it goes to shit for me. Every dime is for my mom and her medical bills, our rent, electricity, and groceries. The rest is for her pills, which I’ve begun to rely too heavily on Natalie to get for me.

My ass drops onto a bench and the last of the air leaves my lungs with a heavy sigh. It’s so quiet in here. So calm and peaceful. Bright flowers and large green leaves surround me. If I try hard enough, I can almost trick my mind into thinking I’m in a faraway jungle where no one can touch me, and my life isn’t real. But that’s not happening today. The soreness in my ass and roll of twenties in my pocket verifies that I’m a whore.

Little plaques with information about different butterfly species are scattered around. There’s a painting of a yellow brick road on the concrete floor, paving the way through the building. I’ve wandered that path a million times. It never takes me anywhere except right back to where I started.

Knox sets out bits of fruits on small pedestals, but he doesn’t look at me or talk.

I love that about him. He always knows when to speak and when to leave me the hell alone. Dmitri’s the same. The three of us have been through some shit, and we’re still praying we make it out to the other side of our personal hells. Vault has already. His survival gives the rest of us hope.

Unlike my mom.

She’s so much worse now. How has she hung on this long? Why?

Tears prick my eyes as dark thoughts crowd me. I’m torn apart. One piece of me wants to spend as much time with her as possible, so I feel guilty sitting in my sanctuary right now. Another piece of me wishes I could do more for her. Another piece of me hates what I’ve already done for her. And there’s even a part of me that wishes she would die so this could be over.

I double over and hold my empty stomach. What kind of son am I to think shit like that?

I’m a fucking bastard. A piece of shit.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I force my emotions back into their boxes and scrub my face. Jesus Christ, I think I’m going to puke. I’d walk out into oncoming traffic if I didn’t have to go home to take care of my mom. But without me, she has no one, so suicide can’t happen.

Yet.

Will I want to die after she does?

I can’t imagine my life without her. Fuck, I can’t imagine my life at all. Is being a sex worker all I’m good for? Fucking isn’t a skill I can put on a resume. After being laid off from my construction job last month, the struggle to find something new has really put shit in perspective for me. I can’t make our bills flipping burgers or stocking shelves. I can’t go back to school to get my diploma. What’s a GED going to get me, anyway? It’s not like college will be an option for me. I need fast, big money, not minimum wage and long hours away from my dying mother.

I’m so fucking stuck. I’m so fucking exhausted. I’m so fucking defeated.

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