Page 109 of Past Due

“You will go to prison for the rest of your life if you don’t have a good lawyer!”

“I’m not rolling. I’m not snitching. I’ll do my bid.”

“Be reasonable,” I urged. “This won’t be like the other times you went to prison! You’re disabled now! Prison will be unbearable if you’re stuck in a wheelchair.”

“Then maybe I won’t go to prison.”

His words silenced me and hung heavy between us. He wasn’t talking about making a deal. He wasn’t talking about trying to escape. He was talking about death, about committing suicide.

“What the fuck do I have to live for now?” He dejectedly gestured to his stumps.

“Me,” I said, on the verge of tears. “You have me to live for, and someday my kids—your grandkids.”

“The worst thing you could do is have children with that man.”

“Why are you being so nasty? Do you want me to leave? Is that what this is? You want to push me away?”

“Yes, I want you to leave. I want you to walk out that door and forget about me. You let me rot in prison or swing on the end of a bedsheet.”

“I can’t do that,” I said, crying. “You’re my dad. You’re my family. I’m not walking away from you.”

“I’m not asking, Marley. I’m telling you. Get the fuck out! Now!”

I clenched my teeth against the pain of his meanness. “I’ll go, but I’m hiring a lawyer for you.”

“Save your money. Spend it on a divorce lawyer. The sooner you end this mistake, the better.”

Saddened, I shook my head. “I never thought I’d see the day that you and Eric Santos agreed on anything.”

“And I never thought I’d see the day that my daughter threw her life away for a piece of shit like Besian Beciraj,” he cruelly retorted.

Heartbroken, I finally nodded in acceptance. “Okay.” Gulping down my grief and pain, I tenderly kissed his cheek. “Goodbye, Daddy.”

He said nothing and turned away, coldly and callously dismissing me. I left the hospital room without looking back, walked right by Sharice who eyed me with pity and headed straight for Besian who stood only a few feet away from the door. His face told me he had heard every word, and I hated that. I hated that he had another mean voice in his head telling him that he was worthless and bad.

Besian held out his hand, and I took it, clinging to him, to my husband. He drew me close and slid his arm around my shoulders. “Come,” he said gently. “Let’s go.”

As we left the hospital, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Spider knew so much more than he was saying. Never in my life had he ever treated me like that. Never. Not once.

“He lied,” Besian said as he opened the passenger side door for me.

“About?” I asked, frowning.

“He doesn’t want you to walk away and forget him.” Besian swept his fingers along my cheek and tucked loose strands of hair behind my ear. “He loves you so much he said those horrible things to drive you away from him. To keep you safe,” he explained. “To protect you.”

“There are nicer ways of doing that,” I muttered, still upset. “He was so mean.”

“I know.” Besian embraced me and kissed my temple. “But he loves you, Marley.”

“I’m sorry you had to hear those horrible things he said about you.”

He laughed darkly. “That’s hardly the worst thing anyone has said about me.”

“Still, it wasn’t nice.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Gently, he tilted my head back and searched my eyes. “That wasn’t true what he said about my dancers. Yes, I have slept with some of them, but that was my past. You are my present. You’re my future. You’re my wife. You’re my family, and I will always be loyal to you.” His solemn expression turned playful as he teased, “I’m not crazy enough to risk a broken bottle to the neck.”

“Oh my God!” I swatted him twice. “That’s not funny!”

He laughed and pulled me in close. "I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s not funny.”

It was a tiny bit funny, but I wasn’t going to encourage him. Still, the moment of much needed levity worked. I relaxed in his arms and allowed the stress and hurt of my meeting with Spider to fade away into nothing.

Yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about something Spider had said. What if he was right? What if I wasn’t enough for Besian?

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