Page 40 of Kings Don't Break
“Shut the fuck up, Kori.”
She looks over at me in surprise, her hands tightly gripping the blanket.
“Do you hear yourself? Is that what he taught you? What you learned over time? To justify what he’s doing?”
“I made a mistake?—”
“Stop.”
I take several steps over to where she is on the sofa ’til I’m close enough to crouch by her side for a direct look into her teary eyes.
“Listen to me, Kori,” I say slowly, in a tone that’s forcibly calm. The same one I used last night. The rage for him and the situation simply bubbles under the surface. “Nothing you could ever do or say would justify what he’s done. Nothing. You making a mistake—if you even want to call it that—doesn’t give him a right to hurt you. Neither does stress and neither does any other fucking excuse I’m sure he’s used. He’s a piece of shit that doesn’t deserve to look at you, let alone be your damn husband. He’s gotten you so down, you’ve started to think of it as justified. You’ve started to think it’s earned. I’m sure he’s real pleased with himself. Because it means you’ll never leave.”
She shakes her head, a few tears sliding free down her left cheek. “He’s going to come, and he’ll apologize. He’s probably already out looking for me.”
“He’ll kill you. You know that, right? One night, it’s going to go too far, and he’s gonna lose control. He’ll fucking kill you. Is that what you want? Then who’s going to take care of your mama? She’ll be all alone.”
That seems to get through to her. At least on some level.
Korine sits in tense silence, her cry working through her. She’s closed her eye, the one that’s not completely swollen, and her hurt comes out in the form of the silent tears and quake of her body. She leans closer, and I put my arms around her to accept her latest silent ask—she wants, needs, to be held.
It’s not easy. If this has been going on for years, then I’m sure even now her perception’s all fucked up. He’s reprogrammed her to believe he loves her even if he cheats on her. Even if he makes her black and blue.
Her tears wet my neck and shoulder and dampen my shirt. I stroke the back of her head and try to be the rock I’d been for Korine way back when.
It brings flashbacks of old times, like sophomore year in high school, when her first boyfriend had broken her heart. She’d been more upset than I’d ever seen her. I was a dumb boy that didn’t understand girls, but I knew one thing. My best friend was in tears, and it was up to me to make her feel better—so I snuck into her room and held her. We watched movies and ate junk food. I told her Jordan was a fucking loser and she deserved better. She’d smiled at me, so damn pretty, becoming a woman day by day, that a ripple of nerves hit my stomach. It wasn’t long before I realized Korine was mine. The territorial feelings I had for this girl, my girl, weren’t just friendship.
They were something else altogether…
“Where in the world am I?” Sunny’s bemused voice jerks me out of my flashback.
Korine and I separate with our heads turning toward my bedroom door. It hangs open. Sunny’s wandered out in the baggy t-shirt and sweats I provided her last night. Her round face is a question mark as she blinks over at us.
I get up, determined to keep these two women not only safe, but comfortable. “Sunny, you and Kori are visiting me for a few days. How’d you sleep? You hungry? I was thinking eggs and bacon for breakfast.”
“That sounds wonderful. And, err, who… who are you again?” Sunny asks, her tone bemused.
Korine plays along to acclimate her mother. Her tears are wiped away and she gets off the sofa to join us near the entry to the kitchen. “Mama, we’re going to be with Blake for a while. You remember Blake Cash, don’t you? We lived next door to his family for years. You used to love him coming by for dinner.”
Recognition dawns in her eyes. “Blake! My golden boy. Of course. How are you? Oh my lord, still as handsome as always, aren’t you? And you’ve gotten so tall! I bet you’ve got girls slanging them panties right at you.”
“Mama,” Korine moans.
I put on a playful smile. The same one I use to charm women, young and old alike. Sunny’s right, and I tease her about it. She gives off a mischievous laugh that in turn makes Korine laugh.
Good. I’ve got these two in better spirits.
“You ladies sit down and relax. Chef Cash’s got you.”
Korine eases Sunny into a chair and then devotes the next few minutes to her medicine. Sunny’s blood sugar level is taken, and Korine gently injects her with the necessary dose of insulin.
The older woman strokes her daughter’s chin and says, “Thanks, baby. You always look after me.”
I’m focused on making their breakfast. The kitchen fills up with the smoky scent of bacon and the sound of it sizzling on my skillet. More than once, Korine insists on helping me. I shake my head and send her away with a point of my spatula.
“I already told you. Sit down. Get comfortable.”
But it seems like Korine’s got no concept of doing nothing. Especially if the situation involves kitchen work.
