Page 124 of Thug

“Sometimes he pays by accepting an ass whipping, sometimes it’s a broken bone or two, and sometimes it’s his life.”

“What’s your point?”

“You agree with what I said?”

“Sure. Makes sense. A man spits a loogie on my sled, I ain’t gonna put a bullet in his head. And, if a man rapes a patch’s sister, I ain’t about to let it slide with an ass whippin’.”

“Alright,” I said. “Sounds like we agree.”

“Where you headed?”

“Brother, I need to forgive you for what you did to Gray,” I said. “This has been a long, long road, and it’s high time we put this deal to bed. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” he said. “Between you being pissed off at me and my cats bein’ dead, I’ve been a wreck.”

“Well,” I said. “For me to forgive you, one thing that had to transpire was that you had to pay for what you did. I’ve reached a point that I think you’ve paid enough.”

He nodded. “This has eaten me up, Brother. I’ve paid dearly.”

I faced him and folded my arms over my chest. “How you react to this is going to have a lot to do with me being able to believe that you’ve accepted responsibility for your actions.”

Confusion washed over him. “React to what?”

“Gray kidnapped your cats. It was payback for what you did to her. She wanted—”

He leaped from his seat. “Are they okay?”

“They’re fine. She wanted you to suffer just as much—”

“Where are they?”

“Can I finish?”

Filled with nervous energy, he paced the floor. “Go ahead.”

“She wanted you to suffer just as much as she did. It was her way of accepting what you did to her. Having been through an awful situation in my childhood, I can attest to how traumatic experiences can affect someone for the rest of their life. She’ll more than likely be dealing with memories of that fucked up mess for a long, long time.”

“So, what do I do?” He asked. “Pay you, or pay her?”

“What?”

“The fifty grand?” he asked. “I can have that shit dug up in ten minutes.”

I laughed. “She doesn’t want your money, Brother. She just wanted to get a little revenge.”

He shook his head. “I’d say she got it.”

“I’d agree,” I said. “There’s only one problem. It’s not much, but it’s a problem.”

“What is it?” A worried look came over him. “One of ‘em get hurt? Which one?”

“They’re fine,” I said. “But she’s got really attached to ‘em both. She feels like we’ve become a family. Tell you the truth, I think those cats have been therapeutic for her. I think they’ve helped her recover from that situation. Without ‘em, I doubt she’d have come out of it the way she did.”

“What’s the problem?” he asked.

“I’m afraid when they’re gone that she’ll fall apart.” I said. “I’m thinking she might need some visitation rights.”

“Man, I feel bad about what happened to her.” He pressed his palms against his temples and rubbed his big bald head. “You need to know that. Hell, couple of weeks ago, I did a little soul searching. When I did, I made a list of all the chicks I’d dicked over.” He lowered his hands. “She was at the top of the list. Fucker was sixty-some women long by the time I was done, and I’m sure I forgot as many as I remembered. I wish I could take it back. You know, turn back the clock, or whatever. All I can do is apologize, but I know that ain’t enough.”