The Princess and the Fool Ch. 02

"If she was so good looking, why was she with him? I'm just saying." Sierra put out there. Cheyenne stole a look to the hallway leading to the bedroom. Joe chuckled yet again.

"Oh, she was gorgeous. Guys would stab their mates just to get close to her -- that was until she told them her name. See, Rosalita was a Black Widow. Every man she became attached to died horribly and usually within a few weeks. You combine her being the best person with a knife I've ever seen, her raving insanity, and her curse; no one wanted anything to do with her. Then Taylor came along."

"She's cleared out a table in a cantina and Taylor walks over to her and sits down. He doesn't say anything he just sits down with a bowl of pretzels and two beers. When some of his buddies and I saw this insanity, we began plotting ways to get him out without pissing off the nutjob. Rosalita pulls out one of her large carving knives and slams it blade first into the table. Things got very quiet because everyone wanted to see if someone could finally kill Taylor."

"Do you know who I am? Rosalita growled."

"Sure, you are Rosalita. Do you want a beer? he stated as he passed her one of his beers. She took it and drained it in two tosses."

"Why the fuck are you here? Rosalita snapped," Joe snorts, remembering that day.

"Do you know what Taylor, that dumb bastard says? 'If I go, I don't want it to happen without me having got to know you first.' That was the nicest thing anyone had ever told her, I imagine. She grabbed his hand and dragged him upstairs. She had him up half the night. She was a real screamer."

"What about the curse?" Sierra sounded truly curious.

"I'm getting there," Joe grinned. "Three days later, we are out in the bush for some God knows reason I can't remember when Taylor steps on a landmine. 'BOOM!' and Taylor goes flying out into this pond. Rosalita and I go out to get his body. Neither one of us think he's alive. Suddenly he starts swimming towards us. Rosalita pulls him onto the muddy beach and pats down his body, looking for the fatal wound. Luck bastard didn't have a mark on him. Strangest damn thing I've ever seen -- a defective mine. The only thing wrong was his knees were a bit sore."

"Rosalita jumped all over him, bawling like a baby, hugging Taylor and dancing around. She told him she loved him and would love him forever. He tells her he's loved her since he first laid eyes on her. They were never more than fifty meters apart from one another for five years; until she died. Even then, he was right at her side. As I said, that is why a troll like Taylor was with a goddess like Rosalita. He made her happy, he kept her saner, and he'd follow her into any fucked up situation she ran into, even that last time."

Cheyenne looked nervous and her hands were shaking slightly. Joe reached out and put a hand on her knee.

"Don't worry girl. When he is with you, he's with you. That should be all that matters," Joe assured Cheyenne.

"Why didn't he ever tell us this?" Sierra asked.

"What was he going to say? Hey lovers, I've killed people on four continents for money. I've seen friend tortured, buddies blown into so many bits we could never find all the pieces, or I've loved someone so much I had to quite the only job that made me feel alive to become a thug, a petty thief, a criminal. Listen, when I say he sucked as a mercenary, I don't think you understand Taylor."

"The vast majority of people in the world don't know how to fight -- if they are alone, Taylor can kill them with his hands. When I say he sucked at firearms, I mean that it took him time to aim and shoot at someone, and kill them. Taylor is never going to get over being able do that; for having done that. How is he going to explain it to two girls who've most likely never heard a gun fired in anger, much less fired at them? What can he say?" Joe asked.

"No," Joe added, "he comes home to you two and he's happy. He's deserved to feel that way for five years."

"I'm not so sure he likes me," Sierra said cautiously. Joe laughed again.

"Kid, if he didn't like you, you would know it. I believe he thinks you are hell on wheels. So, you like his girlfriend? All Taylor cares is about is that Cheyenne likes him. He's not territorial. If you make Cheyenne happy, you are fine in his book."

"You don't see a lot of men like that," Sierra admitted.

"He's not most guys," Joe answered.

"He's weird. I don't understand him," Sierra added.

"He gets that a lot. Taylor doesn't try to explain himself," Joe responded.

"Will he ever get over Rosalita?" Cheyenne asked. Joe sighed.

"Short answer: No. Long answer: Do you know why he is called Taylor Eden? It is because that is the name Rosalita gave him. Before that he was Taylor this, or Taylor that. Always Taylor, but always a new last name; it was his thing. When Rosalita took him to bed for the second time, I think he confided in her the reason he changed names like he did. I think she asked him to keep one name -- forever. She chose Eden, because when she was with him, she felt like she was in paradise. So, he is never going to forget her."

"He's also never been in a relationship that has lasted more than a week -- until you two came along. For ten years the only woman in his dreams has been Rosalita, until today. Today, Cheyenne, it was you. So, if you break his heart, I'll put you in intensive care," Joe concluded in a calm voice that was surprisingly full of menace.

"That is the same voice that Taylor talks in when he is about to do something," Cheyenne noted. Joe nodded her understanding.

"He's usually more polite," Sierra said.

"Taylor was always a charmer. Not with the ladies, but when we were talking to the cops, or getting some piece of equipment we had to have, there was Taylor being so civil and polite. It always made me wonder what growing up in his home had been like. The thing was he always tried to avoid killing if possible. He always tried to be reasonable, as long as he could fulfill the contract."

"Why was he shot today then?" Cheyenne asked.

"There was this guy we worked with in Guatemala named Ted. We were supposed to rescue some aid workers being held by some narco-terrorist. We got them out, but on the return trip, Ted decided that one of the female workers should be more 'appreciative'. When Taylor found out, he flipped."

"Did he kick the guy's ass?" Cheyenne interrupted. He had saved her ass after all.

"No, Ted was wiping the floor with him, but he forgot one cardinal rule: where there is Taylor, there is Rosalita. She cut him good, but Taylor stopped her from killing him. We turned him over to the police and he was sent to jail. Taylor was civilized that way. You didn't kill your buddies, but you didn't trample the law either. He has always been weird."

"Anyway, Ted gets out of jail, learns that Rosalita is gone, and apparently goes into the kidnapping business. It took him a while to figure out where Taylor was, most of his old friends wouldn't deal with him anymore -- not that they hate rape, but they hated him for raping a client; that is bad for business. Anyway, Ted figured out where Taylor was and kidnapped a high profile person, knowing who they would most likely turn to his boss for the rescue."

"Taylor shows up and he knows the situation is fucked, but he makes the exchange anyway. Taylor said he'd bring the girl home, so he's got to draw the situation out for the girl to get to cover. There were five of them, plus Ted. Taylor gets a drop on one of the kidnappers, holding him hostage, and tries to get out. Ted kills his own man to get at Taylor. Taylor kills one guy, shoots their ride, and Taylor gets shot in the process."

"Girl's in the driver's seat so Taylor jumps in the back. The stupid bitch doesn't slam the car in reverse and head for the freeway; no, she races up a dead end road. Bad guys pursue on foot. Stupid bitch slams car into the side of a barn and Taylor gets knocked out. Your boy wakes up, saying your name, and looking at the bitch riding him. Apparently danger gets her horny."

"He slept with her?" Cheyenne said in an angry tone.

"No, he woke up and she was having sex with him; not the same thing. Anyway, Farmer Lady showed up, takes them back to the house, he calls me for a rescue, bad guys cut the line, and they flee up to a shack on a hill. It seems the shack had gas tanks in it, so Taylor sets a trap. He lures a guy in and gets the kidnapper to shoot at him, exploding the shack."

"How did he get the guy to shoot at him?" Sierra asked.

"He jumped around until the guy saw him out the window. Taylor ain't too bright. Anyhow, shack goes boom and knocks down the other kidnappers. Farmer Lady, with shotgun runs down and kills one SOB and does a number on Ted's right hand with her second shot. Taylor runs down and stabs another guy with a kitchen knife, ending his career. Taylor and Ted meet. Taylor kills Ted."

"I thought you said Ted wiped the floor with Taylor?" Sierra pointed out.

"Good question Sweet-cheeks. Ted lost the use of his right arm -- his primary. Taylor lost the use of his left hand, so his primary hand was still good. Taylor also had a knife, and Taylor has also gotten better over the years. He's slow, but he learns."

"Do you want me to include how he was taken back down to the Farmer Lady's house and raped again?"

"He had sex twice?" Sierra and Cheyenne squawk simultaneously.

"Both women at the same so technically three times," Joe informed them, "but in his defense, he had been running around with a bullet wound in his shoulder for an hour. He'd lost a lot of blood, so I'm not sure how coherent he was. He almost forgot to bring along the money."

"What money?" Sierra asked.

"The two million dollar ransom, Brainiac; he was there to pay the ransom for the bitch, remember?"

"He had two million dollars?" Cheyenne stuttered.

"Cheyenne, what is it you think he does?" Joe questioned.

"He works as a security consultant," she said lamely. Joe nodded her head.

"Okay then. Let me say that while he is a security consultant, and he might have a pretty little card that says that, Taylor is someone who rich people pay to have problems go away. If it is borderline legal or flat out illegal, they hire his boss, who uses Taylor as his instrument."

"So people trust him with two million dollars?" Sierra asked.

"Sierra, they trust him with their lives," Joe explained. "After that, two million isn't so much."

"Could Taylor go to jail?" Cheyenne said in a small voice.

"Yes, he could. It is a risk that is part of the profession. Remember what I said though; he is good at what he does. That also requires him to keep secrets, because discretion is what he's hired for. When he comes home and says he can't talk about it, that's because he's told someone he would never talk about it. He's not trying to upset you; he's trying to protect you."

"He's awfully fucked up in the head, isn't he?" Sierra concluded.

"Basically, I have to agree with that assessment. He likes to think he's simple. He's not. He's pretty fucked up, but in a way that's manageable. But then, aren't we all a little fucked?" Joe pondered.

"I should go back and wake him now," Cheyenne told them as she stood. She waited for Joe to challenge her. Joe looked at her watch.

"He'd like that," Joe said instead. "He'd like to wake up and see you. It would mean a lot to him, but promise me -- no sex for twenty-four hours. The boy's half dead but he'll die fucking you if you ask him to."

"I think we can manage one whole day keeping our hands off of him," Sierra smiled. Cheyenne snorted and headed back.

"When do we take him back to the hospital?" Sierra asked. Joe chuckled and shook her head.

"Sierra, he didn't go to a hospital. They tend to ask questions about gunshot wounds. We know a doctor-friend who helps people like us out from time to time. She patched him up. Taylor can talk you two through changing his bandages; he's done it enough times -- Taylor's a cockroach, but he's not bulletproof. Also, no unprotected sex until the doctor says he's okay. Those women didn't appear to be whores, but herpes is forever, so take care."

"I think we can handle that," Sierra admitted. "This explains all his scars. He always said it was because he was clumsy."

"Technically that's the truth." Joe worked something out of her pocket and threw it to Sierra. "These are his antibiotic. Make sure he gets one twice a day," Joe informed her.

"You sound like you've done this a lot too," Sierra observed.

"What gave it away?" Joe joked. Sierra grinned.

Joes' other phone rang. Joe held up a hand for silence. "Yes, I'm listening. Oh, that is most unfortunate that Sumo is not an acceptable activity for a five years old; nor is asking a girl to shake her moneymaker on the playground for a piece of the action." Sierra looked at Joe with great curiosity.

"Okay, I'll have to take care of this as soon as I can break free. My husband will pick up the children today and I will deal with this when I get home," Joe said into the phone before hanging up and explained to Sierra, "Day Care: My boy; sometimes I think he wants me to kill him. He is already a business man like his Father."

Joe looks down into her hands and groans, "and they tell me these are the easy years."

"Wait, you have really kids? You weren't shitting us?" Sierra gawked. Joe shook her head.

"Lady, Taylor and I are people. We fuck and that means sometimes we have kids," Joe rolled her eyes.

"Sorry," Sierra concluded. "Until you mentioned it I never thought ... about Cheyenne and Taylor having kids. Now ... I don't know."

"What about you and Taylor?"

"What? I'm not sure from day to day if I like the guy," Sierra explained.

"If you think you can do better, go for it. You won't find a man who will treat you better or work harder to make you happy," Joe offered.

"What makes you think he would be interested in me? He has Cheyenne. Even I know that."

"He knows your name. More importantly, he speaks your name without prompting. That's a big step for Taylor. It means he cares," Joe informed her. Sierra had to think that over. She noticed that people were 'he' or 'she'. If she told Taylor someone's name then would remember it for a day or two, but then forget it. She had previously thought it was because he was simple.

"A lot of people's names he knew are dead now, aren't they?" Sierra realized.

"Yep."

"Has forgotten their names?" Sierra asked.

"I doubt it. When you are screaming for someone to duck before they get killed, you can't be caught trying to remember what they go by," Joe pointed out. "Not being the smartest guy in the world, he forced himself to remember their names so he wouldn't let them down. The price of that for a guy like Taylor is that you don't forget."

"I never thought of him that way," Sierra admitted. "He was a little off, a little dangerous, but mostly he tries to be a nice guy. I never thought about him actually killing someone, much less getting hurt. When I first met him he seemed to be in such total control."

"Was he on a job?" Joe inquired. Sierra blushed, remembering the day.

"Yes, yes he was," Sierra admitted. "The job was against me and my boyfriend back then."

"Then you were never in any real danger. Taylor doesn't do wet work and only fucks-up people who won't be reasonable. I imagine that he was quite polite and you were quite reasonable since we are sitting here today. Likewise this must have to do with Cheyenne, because if it wasn't he wouldn't have let you within five miles of her, and by that I mean the cops would be wondering who the corpse in the morgue was," Joe clarified. Sierra lowered her gaze.

"He really loves her then," she sighed, "and she loves him. I think that is my cue to leave."

"Why?" Joe scoffed. "You are his friend and in this city that is a circle of three. There aren't ten people on the planet he'd kill for, but he'd kill for you. Don't throw that away. If you think you can be happy here, give it a shot." Joe stood up.

"I have to go now. Dinner is going to be take-out as it is. If I don't feed the kids by eight, I'll never get them to bed in time," Joe grinned before heading to the door. "Give him those pills, change his dressings each day, and cut yourself some slack. I don't know what you are feeling guilty about, but get over it. You have real friends. That is more than most people have."

Sierra went back to the bedroom and saw Cheyenne sitting on the edge of the bed looking down on Taylor. She walked over and put her hand on Cheyenne's shoulder.

"He normally never lets one of us get this close to him," Cheyenne whispered.

"Huh?"

"He always wakes up when someone comes into the room," Cheyenne explained.

"Oh, I hadn't noticed," Sierra shrugged. "He hides it well. He must really be tired; all that sex."

Cheyenne looked up to see that Sierra was joking with her. Until that moment she had never considered what that man meant to her, and Cheyenne. Taylor had just been ... Taylor.

He'd nearly ruined her life. He'd scared the crap out of her. Hell, he'd raped her with Cheyenne's help. In a way she'd always held that against him. But he'd also opened his home up to her and allowed her to be close to Cheyenne when Sierra needed some sort of closure in their relationship. In a way he'd shown Sierra what kind of man he could be when he handled her boyfriend. It hadn't occurred to her that she might well have been on the receiving end of one of those beatings.

That had been Taylor's gift to her -- to never let her know how much trouble she was in. She dealt with her demons in her own way and he let her. Taylor could have put her in a hospital, or on a bus out of town, and that would have been that. He'd liked her enough to give her a second chance with Cheyenne and she'd not fucked it up. He was a strange guy.

"Let's get a bite to eat and we can settle into bed with him," Sierra suggested. She took Cheyenne by the hand and led her back to the kitchen. They ate for several minutes in silence.

"I always thought he was trying to be boring," Cheyenne surprising confessed. "I was thinking of leaving him." Sierra looked at her cautiously. "It was that he'd never talk about stuff and I thought he was just uninterested in everything. I never knew that there was another woman and she died, and that something had changed inside him to make him act this way."

"He is kind of boring," Sierra grinned weakly. "He'd have told us but he didn't want our sympathy. He needed time and we -- I -- almost didn't give it to him. Now we know that we can talk to him about the places he's been and the things he's seen. I don't think that will be boring."

"I want to know about her," Cheyenne responded. "Rosalita; it explains so much about him. I always felt like he wanted to hold me close at the same time he didn't want to let me in. I figured he was a guy with commitment issues. I didn't know I was competing with a ghost."

"I don't think that is it," Sierra groped for answers. "How many people love someone so much they want to spend their entire lives with them, only to have that person die feet from you and you can't do anything about it? That kind of pain isn't something you want to go through twice. As his friend said, he was having a dream and he called for you, not of Rosalita. The guy was fucking dying and his mind was clinging to you. How many girls can claim that?"

Cheyenne sighed and nodded. There was another minute of silence. A smile crossed her face as a certain level of understanding and commitment came to her.

"He has to pay for sleeping with those two women," Cheyenne announced.

"Oh, definitely; our boy went way out of bounds," Sierra agreed.

"Tanning beds and our sheerest whites?" Cheyenne suggested for preparing and wearing around the house while he was bedridden.