GRIND (The Silver Nitrate Series Book 1) (37 page)

Much to his surprise, the woman burst out laughing and said she’d never, in her entire career, had anyone’s significant other approach her about unfair business practices, and definitely not in the creative manner that he had. She also noted that she was certain Silver would be appalled if she knew he’d come up there, and he didn’t dispute that. As they shook hands, she promised to look into the matter and see what strings she could pull. To him, that was a deal…

Zenith returned to the here and now. The sound of chewing and swallowing seemed loud in his ears as he stood there, knee deep in king-sized deliberations, and the occasional dry rub of a napkin balled up in one’s hand would break the monotony of it all.

“This is good,” he uttered around a mouthful of food.

“It is, isn’t it? I hadn’t been there in a while.” She turned to him. “Was the bike too bad off?” she asked after a hard swallow.

“Nah, it was easy. My homie can take over the rest.”

“Thank you, Zenith. I was in over my head. It’s not like my car, which I can understand somewhat better. I’m good with cars, actually. That thing,” she said, picking up a fry, “I don’t even know what happened.”

“Shit, you did better than a lot of people would have. It’s cool; you don’t have to thank me. That’s what I’m here for.” He chugged a few gulps of beer to wash the saltiness of the fried potatoes away. “And you don’t have to do everything by yourself. Start asking me for help if you need it.”

“Okay,” she agreed with a smile. He knew the bike was sentimental to her, he knew it tied to David since the man had given it to her so very long ago. It was as if she could somehow say she was sorry to the man if the bike lived on, survived, made it through. And though some may not have comprehended such a thing, even been threatened by such a gesture, he wasn’t. He understood the notion just fine. He decided he was going to help her all that he could, because he respected her process nonetheless.

“So, how did your first meeting go?”

She shrugged, plucked another fry from her plate, and popped it into her mouth.

“It was okay, I guess…”

“Just okay? Maybe it takes some getting used to.” He squirted more ketchup from the bottle on the parchment paper lying across his plate, coated a French fry with the sauce, and ate.

“Maybe, who knows? I’m going again next week, though. Maybe you should come with me?” She looked at him expectantly as if what she stated was a novel idea. Something bulky, cumbersome, downright ugly and filled with suspicion accosted him at that very moment. The beast within his mind snarled like some demonic creature on a leash, ready to break the damn thing and run free to fuck up with the world. In a flash, he went from content and relaxed, to pissed the hell off.

“What for?” he simply stated, keeping his composure…so far.

She gently set her sandwich down.

“Because you lost your parents, and maybe—”

“Maybe nothing… maybe nothin’, okay?” He quickly wiped his fingers with a napkin. “You know what?” he said, pointing at her. “I’m tired of you bringing this up. Why can’t you just leave it alone?” He frowned, feeling the first pang of a headache coming on.

“What’s wrong with you? Why are you getting so mad?” Attitude snuck into her tone, yet her voice remained fairly calm.

“Seriously?” He couldn’t believe his damn ears. “You’re smart, you know the hell why.” He turned back to his food and stared at it.

“No, I don’t, or I wouldn’t have asked. You are accusing me of something. I don’t know what you’re talking about and I’d like to get this settled so I can finish my damn food. So,
again
, why are you mad?”

“Because this is about you, the grief meetings, and now you’re trying to make it a part of me, too. I wasn’t the one holding back because I lost my parents, okay. I wasn’t the one acting fucked up towards you because of that. Don’t try to rope me into this shit. That’s just typical of you, you know that?”

“What do you mean, ‘typical’?” She put her hand on her hip and leaned slightly forward.

“I mean exactly what I said, Silver. Your ass can never just focus on you, and the help
you
need. You want to do everything by yourself unless it is something like this, something that would make you deal with this shit. I’m not sharing in this.” He emphatically shook his head. “I got my own shit, but my situation with my parents is not something you need to try to manipulate me with. We both know what you just tried to do; you’re busted, so just drop it.”

“What in the hell is wrong with you, Zenith? You have gone
completely
out in left field!” Her voice grew louder, but still, not a complete yell, much to his surprise. However, the woman’s eyes drew cold and dark. “First of all,” she snapped, pointing in his face to mirror his earlier act. “I didn’t just want you to come because you lost your parents, alright? That was part of it, but not nearly the entire picture. I wanted you to come as a support system for
me
. So yeah, it was about you, and me, but not in the way you accused. I called myself, trying to help our relationship, but I thank you for your vote of confidence in me. Nice to see where I stand with you.”

He lowered his gaze, suddenly feeling a bit foolish.

“Secondly, every time I try to talk to you about what happened with your parents, you clam up. Regardless, I didn’t bring them up just now,
you
did, and you are the one that asked me about the group sessions, not the other way around. So how can you accuse me of trying to rope you into some shit?”

“I did ask you but—”

“And since you
did
bring it up, yeah, you could probably benefit from it, too. You won’t talk to me about it, and I don’t like it…and I don’t have to like it! You act like you can never be questioned, Zenith… like whatever you say about something you don’t want to talk about, I should just be like, ‘Alrighty then.’ No, it doesn’t work like that. We’re supposed to be in a relationship. I’ve been upfront with your ass from day one, too soon by many accounts I’m sure. I told you all my crap on the very first date. You knew I was a basket case from jump!” The woman’s voice grew louder and louder as she read him the riot act.

“This is unfair and it’s some bullshit!” She threw a fry down on her plate, spun around and stormed away but he grabbed her arm and yanked her back to him.

“Silver, wait. I don’t feel guilt about my parents dying. That’s the point I’m trying to make to you that you don’t seem to understand. I don’t need to talk to anyone about it. It was over twenty years ago! My situation is totally different.”

“No, it’s not, Zenith. That’s the problem with you. You act like you can tell me all these things about what I need, but you yourself are magically exempt from it. You’re not. It’s the truth. Swallow that shit and like it.”

The woman’s face grew hard. The coolness of her demeanor gave him cause for pause. She stood there in a vat of consternation, flirting with the twisted notion of inflicting words of cruelty. Instead of taking him aback, the demon on the leash snapped free and raced for her in full speed.

“Oh, so you’re an expert now?” He threw up his hands. “You, the woman who I had to crack like a nut to even talk to me, give me the time of day, is now a professional on human psychology, loss, and family relations? You go to one goddamn meeting,” he said, raising his finger in the air, “and now, you’re the authority!”

“You know what? Leave my bike here, get yo’ shit and go home, Zenith.” Shaking free from his hold around her arm, she blustered in the direction of her bedroom and slammed the door, causing a loud bang. He chased after her, his heart seized up, his chest tight. He couldn’t have this. He was hell-bent on having the last word…and perhaps smoothing over the waters, too. Grabbing the handle, he let himself inside. There she stood, looking somewhat like a ghost against a darkened backdrop. She turned around, facing him square on. His blood ran cold, turned to ice within his veins with the way she glared at him. “Oh? You’re back? I told you to leave.”

“I’m not leaving until we finish this discussion.”

“There is no discussion and since you’ve disobeyed me—”

“Disobeyed you?! I’m not some damn dog!”

“You right, mothafucka, because dogs are loyal! First mothafuckin’ of all, Mr. Taylor, I was open to your suggestion of seeing a damn grief counselor. You didn’t word it that way, but you said I should talk to someone because it wasn’t healthy and messing things up for us. I didn’t argue with your ass about it, I didn’t tell you to fuck off, I didn’t ask you to mind your business, I didn’t tell you the shit was off limits to discuss! You were right, and right is right, no matter the source. It was affecting me personally and our relationship. Check. I got. I love you, so the
last
thing I wanted to do was shoot the damn messenger!”

“But you could have just—”

“Shut your mouth! You have me
all
the way fucked up!” she cried, verbally beating the living shit out of him in a way he didn’t think was possible. Not even for Silver…

…And now, she was yelling even louder, her screaming so piercing, her voice vibrated through his damn ribs like drums.

“Zenith, what you had said to me was on the money and you had the right to voice your opinion, regardless of whether I liked it or not. Not everything I say to you is going to be nice, watered down or gift wrapped. You should know me better than that by now but what I say to you will always be the truth and never intended to hurt you. Secondly, you try to say I have power and control issues, and maybe I do. It’s not totally out of the question. Maybe that’s why I love video games so much… creating them and playing them.” She shrugged, yet her body remained tense and her death glare just as frightening. “It makes me feel in control of a world I can disappear into and if I don’t like how the shit is playing out, I can always start over or reprogram it to my liking.

“I know what my problems are, at least the majority of them, and just because I don’t have some megaphone at the top of a mountain screaming out all of my woes and yodeling some swan song doesn’t make me disconnected in some way. I don’t run from the truth. I
am
the truth.”

She drew quiet for a second, then continued on, this time, her voice a hair calmer.

“You, on the other hand, are too damn macho to admit that you’re messed up over something, that it hurt you, and you feel some sort of way. Who cares that it was twenty years ago? It may as well have been twenty minutes ago because your refusal to talk about it, after all this time, shows you are still being kept awake by it, that it still hurts you, right
here
!” She tapped at her heart. “We keep telling each other how much we are alike, and this is another common factor we share. When you hurt, you ball it up inside. Not because you don’t care, but because you care too damn much!

“You can’t have it both ways, Zenith… not on my playground. You either play with me, and play nice, or you can get your sand bucket and go fuck up someone else’s sunny afternoon.”

“What… do you mean?” he squeaked out, almost unable to get the words to roll off his tongue. Somehow, Silver had stabbed him. He could feel the emotional blood oozing, but couldn’t find the source to stop the drip. No one had ever spoken to him like this,
ever
. He wanted to yell at her, perhaps even curse her out real good, but instead, he simply listened, his heart heavy and his own guilt, that he’d blatantly denied, growing in leaps and bounds.

“I’ll tell you exactly what I mean. You want me and the rest of this northern hemisphere to confess our sins to you.” She theatrically swung her finger around in a circular motion as if it were a tiny astronaut circling the globe. “Father Taylor, you ain’t no priest. You want to punish us with your wisdom while you get to lie back in the cut and be all holier than thou. And I’ve had it with you and that shit!” She fisted and unfisted her hand…and from the look in her eyes, she contemplated swinging.

“You’re a good man, Zenith, but I swear you have some serious issues and I don’t read magazines! I don’t want your subscription, okay? I got my own shit, as you are fully aware of, to deal with. I got a lot going on; for instance, I’m a black woman in a field that is predominantly male, white men at that. Every morning I go to work, I have to prove myself over and over again. I’m told how well I’m doing, but I’ve yet to get an opportunity to create and run my own game, and I’ve got a mountain of ideas!

“Like you, I know I’ve got some skills, I’m damn good at what I do, but people keep me in a box because of what I look like, and I’m not exactly a social butterfly, either. I don’t kiss up, yet I think I’m friendly enough. Here I am, asking for a piece of the pie that I feel I bought and paid for in the first place, but I’m askin’ for a piece of my own shit, isn’t that ironic? But ain’t nobody trying to hear me, Zenith. I get ignored, like I’m invisible, but they have no problem using me and not giving me any damn credit when it’s time to pass out new opportunities. You aren’t the only one upset about some shit, damn it! I don’t sit around whining and complaining about it, though. I’ve tried to change it, I’ve spoken to my boss, and she promises and promises but nothing ever happens.

Don’t worry about that, baby… Daddy took care of it…

But he didn’t dare confess it just yet. Not now, when she may just tear his head clean off his neck with her bare hands.

“I’m going to have to do something about this. What that could be, I don’t know…and at this very second, who cares?! … And now I’m off topic!” she snapped, as if that was his doing, too.

“You were telling me that I’m not a priest…” he offered, trying to hide a budding smirk. He hated how a part of him was slightly turned on by her ranting and raving. Her breasts kept moving around as she pointed and screamed… and he couldn’t stop staring at them.

I’m one sick motherfucker…

“You stepped to me, wanting to go out, and we discovered we had a lot in common. Feelings grew fast, and along the way, other shit grew, too. We can either address it together or separately, but it has to be tackled. If you can’t do it, or just flat out refuse to try, then you need to go.” She pointed towards the door. He swallowed and looked over his shoulder.