Page 17 of Macon

Raydene: Steve I need to see you tomorrow. ASAP.

Now that we’re back in Chicago and in my apartment, I can lose the mask, and I snap, “I want out. I don’t want to be in this fucked up, non-existing relationship anymore.”

“Fuck you,” he grumbles, hungover and probably coming down from all the drugs he’d been on.

I stand my ground, folding my arms across my chest. “I texted your uncle and am going to meet him today.”

This gets Dexter’s attention because I never talk to his uncle. The deal was for me to have little to no contact with him, but Dexter was always in communication.

“What the fuck did you just say?” he says, moving toward me.

“I’m meeting your uncle and getting out. This is your thing, not mine. I’m done being your rag doll. It was okay when we were together, but we haven’t been for a very long time. I’m out,” I say, throwing my hand in the air.

He charges me, grabbing my arms forcefully and shoving me up against the door. “Bitch, you have no idea what you’re saying. You can’t get out. We protect you both.”

Rage flares inside me, and I fire back, “I’ve done what I said I would do and then some. I’ve gone along with all your fucked up shit. I’ve played along with you, acting like you know how to DJ. I’ve let you control where and when I DJ, but I’m done. I can’t do it anymore. What you’re doing now has nothing to do with me.”

“What will you do if you don’t have our protection anymore? You can’t leave me.” He laughs. Releasing my arms, shoving me.

Hitting the wall behind me, I laugh.

“Your protection? It’s both of our families who’ve done the protecting. You haven’t done anything but humiliate me. Plus…” I motion a finger between the two of us. “We did this for Cindy and Molly, not anyone else. We signed up for this fucking shit, and I did my part. I’m done.”

“You can’t leave me. I won’t let you,” he says over his shoulder as he strolls into the kitchen.

Frustrated, I grab my phone to call his uncle but notice I have a missed text message. I look to see if it’s his uncle texting me back, but it’s Mac.

My heart drops. I wanted to stay with him. He was giving me a way out, but I couldn’t. Not yet anyway. Seeing them protect their women made me feel like I could leave Dexter and have the protection I needed.

MAC: So, you know your boy? You know he is trafficking women, drugs, and guns.

MAC: You know he’s working with the Russians, two big dealers in Chicago, two of our rival clubs in NY, and Ronny?

MAC: Yes, I said Ronny. I hope you didn’t know. If you did, I guess this is goodbye. If not, text me. I can help.

Ronny? Oh my God.

Dexter walks back into the living room with a beer in his hand.

I look up, frantic.

“What have you gotten yourself into? Does Steve even know what you’re doing? Are these his orders, or are you just doing your own thing?” I ask.

“I know what I’m doing. I’m connected to them all now. I run the show,” he rambles like a crazed man.

“What the fuck? You are dealing with Ronny and the Russians! You can’t control them! What if they put two and two together?” I practically scream.

Shock crosses his face for an instant, but he recovers quickly, snapping, “Who fucking told you? How do you know? What do you mean put two and two…”

“Me, you dumb fuck! Are they going to want me?” I scream.

He throws his hand out toward me. “Fuck no. It has nothing to do with you.”

I look at the text, reread it, and ask, “Are you still involved with JJ and King? I thought that shit was over! What the fuck, Dex?”

“They contacted me. I’m not letting it go. I’ve got them. We’re making deals,” Dex says it like it’s not a big deal.

Shocked, I say, “Oh. My. God. It is true. Why in the world would you be working with Ronny? Are you trying to take him down? What I saw last night with that Russian woman…” I pause, taking a deep breath. I don’t want him to think I’m jealous. “I think you’re getting in over your head. Why would Steve send you in knowing what’s happened in the past? Why?” I demand.

---