Reggie's Girl Ch. 08

Not that any of that made her any more suitable for him. They were just such a mismatch.

But somehow... it didn't seem to matter except in moments of solitary brooding like this. It certainly didn't affect how well they got along, and when they didn't, the ease with which they forgave and forgot and finally, bonded ever more deeply.

She didn't even need her regular stream of chatter with which to banish awkwardness, nor some carefully vanilla tall tales. Not when she was with him. Here was her gift of gab grown substantial, and genuine. Their interactions were getting gentler all the time if no less lively or forthright.

She was less surprised by his managing this than at her own tender and fond expressiveness. Not only did she want to be held and wooed and pampered, she wanted to do the same for him. She'd never have believed it of herself a year ago. She supposed it was her enormous respect for Reggie that made it possible.

And when they made love, she discovered that she never knew what transcendent meant. It signified departing to celestial spheres, uncharted and unpeopled save for the two of them. It meant finding themselves strangers anew and eternal lovers at the same time; staring into each other's eyes then, it was like their souls touched.

She couldn't do without him, she realized in a breathless rush. Oh, no. Not now. It was too late for that, for her.

She considered that an unselfish woman might let him slip through her fingers, set him free to find an equal of his own caliber - but Jasmine didn't care. And she would, she resolved, guarantee that he never had cause to care either.

Nothing was impossible. Look at the diverse cast of people he made a part of his life. She herself would fit right in with that motley crew like Cinderella's slipper. She'd carve out her place with a chisel and mallet if she had to!

Because she wanted this man who was better than she deserved and as long as he tolerated her, here she would stay.

Less than noble though it was, her new resolution gave her a measure of peace. She relaxed back into his inviting warmth, smiling a little. At the same time she felt a ticklish sensation at her shoulder. He was nuzzling her skin.

Jasmine lifted a hand to his springy hair. "Go back to sleep," she whispered.

He nuzzled her some more, or perhaps he was shaking his head. "That's my line," he grumbled.

"And now it's mine. Do as I say."

"What, so you can sneak out in the rain?"

"So I can reward you. Later."

She felt his slow smile against her skin. "Hmm."

She chuckled softly. "Have I gotten your attention, sir?"

Reggie shifted, bringing her in fuller contact with his erection. "What do you think?" he muttered, kissing her throat.

"Actually, I was thinking along more, um, romantic lines."

"Were you?" He sounded somewhat surprised.

"I was thinking if we're dating now, maybe we could... date?" Her answer was an intrigued silence so she went on, "I've been thinking of us, like, doing couple stuff together. I even thought we'd make an alright couple, you and I. Then I thought of that other girl you've got."

"What other girl?" he asked in a tone so bland she turned her head to him in some amazement.

"You mean you don't remember her name?" Jasmine asked in tones of arch censure. "This is really no way to treat a mistress, Reggie."

He laughed under his breath. "Trying to give me lessons on the subject, love? Calm down," he laughed again as she sputtered. "First of all, a pity fuck does not a mistress make. Second: the first thing I'd do for my favorite mistress is set her up in a nice little duplex of her own. I haven't done that with you, have I? Now, what does that tell you?"

"I'm not sure," Jasmine mused darkly. "You might be saying that I'm one mistress out of several you've got. Or you might be saying you've got several mistresses and I'm not one of them. Either way, you're saying your favorite mistress... isn't me?"

"Maybe," Reggie suggested after a short silence, "just maybe none of that matters after I gave you my favorite house. Some might even say that puts your status above mistress and then some."

She rolled over on her side and tried to see his face.

"Why'd you do that, Reg?" Jasmine asked softly. "Give up that house, write a will at all - what drove you to do that?"

"Morbid frame of mind. A death in the family, even one so long-anticipated, will do that to you." His tone was dry as dust.

"And that's all it was?" she pressed. "I just couldn't shake the feeling you were in danger in some way. You remember how it upset me, thinking that some dangerous people-"

"Stop it, Jasmine. Just stop," Reggie beseeched her with a soft groan. "Alright? On top of everything else going on at the time, of course I knew I was in trouble and stressed about it. How could I not be? Here you were, this scruffy angel, just the bravest little thing, loyal to a literal fault, and we were perfect for each other, but even when I got you in bed, all you could talk about was-"

Reggie cut himself off with a scornful laugh. "Jasmine, I spent years of my life, including two marriages, looking for the kind of love you threw aw- lavished on somebody that frankly I considered... Well. You know what I thought of him."

"As less worthy than yourself?" Jasmine supplied with gentle irony. He refrained from agreeing with her.

"I knew the value of your kind of love. I knew I couldn't buy it, of course, but even so, a gesture seemed necessary."

He rubbed his eyes with a harassed air and gave a hard sigh.

"I came up with one, alright. While I had death and funerals on the brain, and it shows. Jesus. Of course you were never gonna be delighted with what I came up with. I just made you cry, something I swear I would've foreseen if I wasn't preoccupied with thoughts of my own mortality and shit. And I would have been more convincing, too, about not being in danger."

Jasmine bit her lip as she traced her fingertips over the region of his heart. "Are you sure," she murmured after a moment, "that part of you didn't kinda, sorta want to see me cry over you?"

"I... Dang, you just keeping me honest today, huh? I... Yes! Part of me loved, needed to see you cry over me like that."

His hand came up, his knuckles searching her cheek as if for more tears. Then he took gentle hold of her chin, his thumb brushing her lower lip. When again he spoke, his voice was soft but clear.

"Fair warning, sweet Jasmine: if you stay with me, I will work against you on this front again. I've already started. You won't have another occasion for such tears again until I'm old and gray - but I'll plot and I'll connive all the decades through now till then, so that on my actual last day, I will make you cry again. No less than you did last week. I'll break your heart, my love, at least a little bit and quite intentionally. That'll be the last comfort I take from you in this life, and I'll give you none in return."

Reggie gently kissed her forehead while she lay stock-still, dazed. He chuckled suddenly as if he'd just remembered something funny.

"And by the way," he murmured, back to his old bantering tone, "you are absolutely the favorite."

It was only on her way downstairs, well past sunrise, when she realized what that assurance meant. Her spine stiffened even as a rueful smile tugged at her lips.

He thought he'd got away with calling her his favorite mistress. She was going to have to give him a hard time for that. Pun not intended.

* * *

"That's not... the worst thing in the world. Right?"

Ted looked extremely dubious but didn't contradict her. A week had passed and in that time, his haggard appearance had improved greatly. But on this blustery evening he was debating whether he'd made a mistake.

"I don't know," he mumbled, sitting back in the comfy old couch in her living room. "I told him I never wanted to see him again. I blamed him for tearing our family apart. There are a lot of things I said, Jasmine, that can not be unsaid. He must remember all that."

He gave her a confused look. "I didn't think he'd want to see me when I went to visit. I'd have been relieved if he had sent me away. I've gotten used to not having him in my life. And it was a crazy whim anyhow. But now he's asking me for another visit."

Jasmine sat cross-legged in her favorite chair, a massive rocker, a frown between her brows. "So... he wants a relationship with you?"

"He said he'd like to try. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?"

She shrugged in total bewilderment, but he was now engrossed in an argument with himself and didn't notice.

"I mean, he's been brought to justice in the most punitive legal system in the developed world. His life is ruined." He shook his head furiously. "But he's still a convicted killer. Also, it just feels funny not absolutely hating him. Like I'm betraying my mother."

"Oh... Yikes."

"Yeah, my sentiments to the letter. What if she found out I went to see him? What'll I even say I was doing there?"

Jasmine pushed her hair from her face. "What were you doing there?"

"Well, I... I wasn't trying to start a new father-son tradition, I can tell you that! Mostly I was interested in what he had to say about the-"

Ted stopped abruptly as if he'd caught himself saying something he shouldn't.

"Ted?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "What're you trying to not tell me?"

He scratched his head. "There's just been a few whispers here and there. Nothing worth mentioning."

"Then it's nothing worth hiding either. Out with it."

Ted hesitated for an indecisive second then began, "You, uh, might've heard that Reggie's being called a murderer."

Jasmine rolled her eyes with extravagant disgust. "By the same guys who did the bidding of an actual murderer? Yeah. We're gonna need a new word for this level of irony."

"It's ridiculous for sure. They're straight calling themselves the man's orphans. But melodramatic or not, there's... real feelings there."

She made a face. "How real?"

"I can't say for sure. That's why I went to see my dad. He knows the culture they inhabit better than anyone else I know, because he was actually about that life. I guess he still is."

Jasmine drew a deep breath. With the utmost reluctance, she asked, "And what did he have to say?"

"Well, it's not complicated at all. Basically, it boils down to this: when violence is strength, then the greatest expression of strength is killing."

"Okay, that was crazy intense!" she rebuked sharply. Ted gave her a half smile.

"Sorry. But it does hold up, doesn't it? Look at the body count every time the old man couldn't stand to negotiate a truce. How many of his people went to prison for murder for him? He never knew when to walk away and he didn't care how high the price. Or who paid it. And these boys are willing to pay it themselves."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Jazz, girl, I ain't tryna scare you. The old man is dead now and hopefully his influence been buried with him. All I wanted was to figure out how likely that was by asking a guy who'd know."

"Well, what he had to say wasn't very comforting, was it?"

"No, but there are a ton of factors at play. And to be honest, I don't see Reggie losing sleep over what his father's cannon fodder think of him."

Maybe not - but confidence wasn't magic, Jasmine thought irritably. Reggie might not care, and she certainly preferred to think of literally anything else, but that didn't mean there wasn't any cause for concern. Ted had apparently thought the same thing, going to the extraordinary extent of seeking his estranged father's perspective.

"They hate Reggie," Jasmine muttered, having kept her ear to the streets, "but all that bile and hyperbole isn't limited to just him. In their upside down world, Reggie's a murderer and guys like Xavier are traitors for leaving the streets behind."

It was all so overwrought, to say nothing of hypocritical. In a just world nobody would have to take these idiots seriously. Sadly, they weren't in a just world and these particular young men took themselves very seriously indeed.

The situation would bear watching. Like Ted said, there were obviously real feelings involved. Real grief - and right now they were very much in the anger stage.

"They've said they're mourning him more sincerely than Reggie ever could or would. And I guess that's true," she mused.

"On the other hand," Ted put in more brightly, "they're clearly in the minority. Most people never liked Krow but they can't get behind the way he ended up. A betrayal like that? And it didn't even pay off? As of now, there's only three people I know of defending that fiasco; the rest been pretty much shamed into silence."

But what neither Ted nor Jasmine was willing to admit was that Fabien, Tariq and Darrell were not all that dismissable. Getting laughed out of barbershops was all well and good, but their sense of righteous grievance was only exacerbated by such treatment. They were getting more thin-skinned and at least one of them had pulled a gun on someone in public for ridiculing them too hilariously.

"What does your father make of them?" Jasmine asked, knowing she need not name specific names.

Ted shrugged with forced casualness. "When he says the old man should have just started a cult and left the rest of us alone? He's referring to those three. From a certain angle, they look like religious fanatics."

It was depressingly accurate. In another time, when respectable men could burn heretics and drown witches, they would probably be important clergymen.

"So it's pretty much guaranteed that Reggie knows about all this," Ted said after a moment and she nodded. Not that it came up in conversation or was likely to. Still, the idea that she might warn Reggie about these boys seemed cute even to her.

"Frankly, I don't see 'em stepping up to Reggie. And my dad doesn't either. And Reggie's the one they're maddest at, right? That's why I didn't want to say anything to you. They'll just probably chill the fuck out and move on."

"Yeah..." Jasmine chewed her bottom lip as she mulled it over. Then she nodded and said with more conviction. "Yeah, you're right."

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than the sound of running footsteps came from outside. They both froze as the noise got louder, nearer. Jasmine jumped with a gasp when her door rattled with a violent pounding, as a fist would make.

"D? You in there?" Xavier's voice came through the panel. He sounded wild. "Dorothy!"

His fist pummeled the thin wood again. "Jasmine, if you can hear me, answer me!!"

Abruptly freed from her momentary paralysis, she surged out of her chair and stumbled to the door. "Xavier? What's going-"

"Stay inside!"

She halted at the command in confused obedience.

"Don't come to the door," Xavier shouted. "Don't open it, please. I just needed to know where you are."

"Why?" She was terrified now and didn't even know why. "Tell me what's happened."

There was a sound like a choked sob, and Xavier's voice came back much quieter and unsteadier. "It's Cricket."

The name meant nothing to her. She stared at the door, utterly bewildered. But Ted spoke up, every line in his body so tense he shook a little. "Wait, Tony Reyes? You talking about the dude with the-"

"Crutches." It was a wail. "Man... They shot him up."

"What??!!"

Jasmine didn't know the person being discussed but three things were immediately clear to her.

One, Xavier being here meant he thought she might also be a target.

Two, Xavier was scared out of his mind for his own safety, too.

Three, they couldn't keep talking through a closed door. He was having a breakdown. Leaving him on her doorstep was not an option, nor was he in a state to find his own way home.

She didn't know whether it took Reggie a long or a short time to get there. Xavier monopolized her attention to the point that time stood still for her. He alternated between rambling about Cricket's life, the manner of his death (which he had apparently witnessed, right outside his brother's store) and vacant-eyed silence.

Ted was only slightly better off; he kept making cups of coffee whether or not the offer was declined. Though he claimed to be fine, he clearly was not. And why should he be? He knew this guy Cricket, he might have been friends with him.

Poor Xavier. Every particle of his cocky bravado was obliterated. Jasmine had never before seen this kind of thing first-hand; she supposed trauma was the word for it. It was scary how it seemed to rob a person of everything that made them them.

When Reggie did arrive she was feeling a little light-headed. Her inability to be of any use or comfort to Xavier was like a wall she had kept running headlong into - and it was starting to hurt. She felt jittery, bullied nearly to tears by her own sense of failure.

Being crushed in Reggie's embrace dispelled the feeling for a while. It wasn't all clear what he said to her, it just made her feel better to hear his voice, low and crooning, and to feel his breath stir the hair at the top of her head. Besides assuring her that she was safe and thanking her for taking care of X she remembered no more of his words, but was sure he had said more.

Reggie was much better at getting through to Xavier. This seemed to be achieved through sheer force of personality. One minute the younger man sat huddled under a blanket, dry-eyed on her couch - but the minute Reggie called his name he burst into tears.

Jasmine didn't hear all that was said between them. Xavier was hysterical while Reggie answered in low, firm tones. The latter's no-nonsense manner consistently pierced through the fog they were all in. They obeyed instantly whatever he said.

No doubt he had an inborn authority and all the sternly caring instincts of a leader. But natural majesty didn't account for all of it.

Reggie also had experience in horrific situations just like this. His actual capability here and now marked him as a veteran of such traumatic events. It made her sad, but also, not ungrateful that he was able to take charge and take responsibility for all three of them, young and overwhelmed as they felt.

Reggie made a number of phone calls. After a while, someone came to get Xavier, an anxious but profusely thankful uncle of his.

Night had fallen. Reggie was looking at her as if trying to decide something.

"Jasmine, love," he began tentatively, "I need you to spend the night under a different roof, preferably with someone who can take care of you. It's been a rough night for you, too. Could your mom take you in?"

Her expression must have given away her distress at the idea because he immediately waved a hand to dismiss the thought. "Never mind. You don't even need to explain."

"Wait, what's wrong with going to your mother's?" a puzzled Ted asked.

Jasmine sighed and turned to him. "She really doesn't like surprise visits, even in the daytime. I'd have to convince her that there was absolutely nothing bad going on tonight, and frankly, I'm not sure I could do a good job."

"My mother can keep an eye on you tonight," Reggie offered with abrupt finality.

Both Jasmine and Ted turned to him round-eyed. "Your mother invited me over?!"

"Not yet, but as soon as I call her and tell her everything that's gone down here-"

"Don't do that!" Jasmine squealed. He glared at her.

"I am not leaving you here!"

"Well, why can't I just stay with you?"

"I won't be home. Cricket's in critical condition. His family's gonna need some support, and I gotta-" He looked away sharply but not before she saw a startling, violent emotion in his eyes. "Do what I tell you. I can't be worrying about you, too."