it?
Once I enter a better part of Moosic, I pull over and look at my dog. “Thanks, Warrior.” I kiss the top of his head and then fasten his seat belt as well as mine. Taking slow, deep breaths, I consider how I risked my personal safety going into that motel alley. “Really stupid move, Ronnie,” I mutter.
I also think about Jimmy’s threats.
You don’t know what hurt is until I get done with you. Me and Bobby are comin’ for you
. I’m aware that I don’t have much experience with people like Bobby Taylor and that stoned, smelly wacko, Jimmy. I’m certainly naive, having always assumed these dark, harsh worlds would never touch me.
But all it takes is one person to crack through your false sense of safety or to connect with someone you care about. No matter how lovely that person appears to be, because of her past she may be the conduit into an ugly slice of humanity that spills dangerously into your own life and that of your family.
Didn’t Will warn me that starting this investigation might take me places I wouldn’t want to go? If it only concerned me, I’d slam the door shut on all of this right now. But what about Frank? He probably knows nothing about Juliana’s questionable activities and wouldn’t believe any of this. I’m also sure he’d be totally pissed at me for butting in.
I need to be rock solid about what’s going on with Juliana before I talk to Frank. I can’t risk endangering my relationship with my brother—my one remaining brother. I just can’t handle any more loss right now.
I turn on my music, crank up the volume on Dire Straits, and head for home. Mark Knopfler’s amazing guitar solo on “Sultans of Swing” helps wash all the pain and tension from my shoulders and neck.
~~~~~
“Are you crazy?” Isabella says to me at the dojo after I meekly tell her and Will about my encounter with the creep in the alley. Class finished twenty minutes earlier, and I was relieved to find the two of them still there working through some techniques. Guess I was more shaken up than I had realized.
“But Isabella—”
“Ronnie,” Will interrupts, looking closely at my neck. “What are those marks? Is that where he choked you?”
“Wh-what?” I stammer and rush to the mirror. Sure enough, I see red hand imprints where Jimmy grabbed me around my neck.
“Are you OK?” he asks. “Does it hurt there?”
I touch the red marks carefully. “Well, it’s a little bit sore, but I think I’m fine. My breathing’s OK.”
“Look, Ronnie,” Isabella says. “If you didn’t have your black belt in Aikido, would you have gone into that alley?”
“Definitely, not—”
“From now on when facing a decision like that, pretend you don’t know
any
Aikido.” She’s emphatic. “Do
not
invite trouble.”
“I was doing some investigating,” I say. “And thought I could handle things.” My tone is humble and my posture slumped.
“Ronnie, don’t think that just because you now have a black belt you can go out into the world and channel Steven Seagal,” Will scolds. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“Like I said, I thought I could handle it myself,” I answer.
“You should have Will help you when you go into the field to investigate.” Isabella
Sensei
shakes her head in disbelief. “I would never have walked down that alley alone. Or at least take Warrior with you instead of leaving him in the car. No one would mess with that dog.”
“I hear you, but why did my Aikido completely fall apart? It was as if I’d never, ever taken a class. I froze.” This is the part that bothers me the most.
“That’s because it was real this time,” Isabella answers. “And Aikido class isn’t about training to fight in the street.”
Isabella and Will exchange glances and give me some lame excuses about having other things they need to do. Then they walk away. Ask me if I feel as though I’m ten years old and just got a scolding.
Chapter Thirteen
It’s early evening, and
Once I enter a better part of Moosic, I pull over and look at my dog. “Thanks, Warrior.” I kiss the top of his head and then fasten his seat belt as well as mine. Taking slow, deep breaths, I consider how I risked my personal safety going into that motel alley. “Really stupid move, Ronnie,” I mutter.
I also think about Jimmy’s threats.
You don’t know what hurt is until I get done with you. Me and Bobby are comin’ for you
. I’m aware that I don’t have much experience with people like Bobby Taylor and that stoned, smelly wacko, Jimmy. I’m certainly naive, having always assumed these dark, harsh worlds would never touch me.
But all it takes is one person to crack through your false sense of safety or to connect with someone you care about. No matter how lovely that person appears to be, because of her past she may be the conduit into an ugly slice of humanity that spills dangerously into your own life and that of your family.
Didn’t Will warn me that starting this investigation might take me places I wouldn’t want to go? If it only concerned me, I’d slam the door shut on all of this right now. But what about Frank? He probably knows nothing about Juliana’s questionable activities and wouldn’t believe any of this. I’m also sure he’d be totally pissed at me for butting in.
I need to be rock solid about what’s going on with Juliana before I talk to Frank. I can’t risk endangering my relationship with my brother—my one remaining brother. I just can’t handle any more loss right now.
I turn on my music, crank up the volume on Dire Straits, and head for home. Mark Knopfler’s amazing guitar solo on “Sultans of Swing” helps wash all the pain and tension from my shoulders and neck.
~~~~~
“Are you crazy?” Isabella says to me at the dojo after I meekly tell her and Will about my encounter with the creep in the alley. Class finished twenty minutes earlier, and I was relieved to find the two of them still there working through some techniques. Guess I was more shaken up than I had realized.
“But Isabella—”
“Ronnie,” Will interrupts, looking closely at my neck. “What are those marks? Is that where he choked you?”
“Wh-what?” I stammer and rush to the mirror. Sure enough, I see red hand imprints where Jimmy grabbed me around my neck.
“Are you OK?” he asks. “Does it hurt there?”
I touch the red marks carefully. “Well, it’s a little bit sore, but I think I’m fine. My breathing’s OK.”
“Look, Ronnie,” Isabella says. “If you didn’t have your black belt in Aikido, would you have gone into that alley?”
“Definitely, not—”
“From now on when facing a decision like that, pretend you don’t know
any
Aikido.” She’s emphatic. “Do
not
invite trouble.”
“I was doing some investigating,” I say. “And thought I could handle things.” My tone is humble and my posture slumped.
“Ronnie, don’t think that just because you now have a black belt you can go out into the world and channel Steven Seagal,” Will scolds. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“Like I said, I thought I could handle it myself,” I answer.
“You should have Will help you when you go into the field to investigate.” Isabella
Sensei
shakes her head in disbelief. “I would never have walked down that alley alone. Or at least take Warrior with you instead of leaving him in the car. No one would mess with that dog.”
“I hear you, but why did my Aikido completely fall apart? It was as if I’d never, ever taken a class. I froze.” This is the part that bothers me the most.
“That’s because it was real this time,” Isabella answers. “And Aikido class isn’t about training to fight in the street.”
Isabella and Will exchange glances and give me some lame excuses about having other things they need to do. Then they walk away. Ask me if I feel as though I’m ten years old and just got a scolding.
Chapter Thirteen
It’s early evening, and
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