“Do you not understand the concept of one shot?” he asks.
This is the part where I’m supposed to defend myself. Tell himthat Tyler started it. Go into the same long-ass monologue I would have goneinto in the principal’s office when I was a kid. But all I can think of is howmuch I’ve disappointed him. I don’t know why that even matters. I guess becausethere are few guys who would have hired me after they found out from one of myprevious employers that I was a troublemaker. But hell, no one ever checks myreferences for work like this, so I wasn’t thinking he’d call anyone. As apackaging associate, you either can or can’t do the job. It doesn’t matter whatsort of trouble you might have gotten into in the past. The fact that Reesetook some time out of his day in the hiring process makes me respect him more.
A shame this is the last day I’ll be working with him.
“Are you just going to sit there and stare at me?” he asks. Hishand still noticeably shakes on the desktop, and as I gaze at it a little toolong, he pulls it back and slides it under the table, never taking his eyes offmine.
“Mr. Kline, I’m sorry for pushing you,” I say. I’m surprised bythe sincerity in my own words. Typically, I’d be a dick. Maybe offer somefacetious apology to piss him off even more, but I didn’t mean to show everyguy in the warehouse his fake leg. I didn’t mean to expose his vulnerability. Iwouldn’t want that for myself or anyone else.
Although that must be one of only a few vulnerabilities a guywho’s built like a pro-wrestler has to worry about.
Reese presses his tongue against his cheek. His gaze trails off,as if he’s lost in deep thought about something. I can’t imagine what. He justneeds to tell me I’m fired and to grab my things out of my locker. Get the hellout of here. I can pack my bags in the room I’m renting and get the fuck out oftown in no time. Move on like I always do.
Those blue eyes are on me again. “I’ve seen how Tyler’s beentreating you all week. Yeah, he’s been a bit of a dick. He’s gonna be that waybecause I technically brought you in to handle some things that he couldn’t. Hewas shitty, but I don’t need you making things worse during a tricky situation.That’s what I’m here for. The guys give you crap, you come to me. My job is totake care of that.”
Wait. Is he seriously letting me off the hook?
I’m so thrown by his words I can’t even think straight. But assoon as I regain my composure, I say, “I don’t need anyone protecting me fromschoolyard bullies. I can take care of myself.”
“If they’re going to act like schoolyard bullies, then I’lldiscipline them like schoolyard bullies. That’s my job, not yours.”
The feeling of having an ally eases my tension.
“I catch you throwing punches or making a scene again,” he adds,“I’ll have your job, got it?”
I nod. “Yes, sir.”
“It’s Reese. Notsir,” he says through his teeth.
I’m too stunned to say anything else. This can’t be happening.Reese is the only boss I’ve ever had who would have tolerated that kind ofbehavior, especially when it resulted in such a humiliating incident.
“Now, get out of here and finish out your shift, okay?”
2
Reese
I’m still shaking from when Jay knocked me down.
I was on my way to the loading dock when I saw him and Tylergetting into it. I figured I’d just grab him. Get his attention. But then heturned on me, and the moment his fist made contact with my face, I was transportedback into the heat of battle. It was a good thing he knocked me down, becauseif I hadn’t had that time standing up to regain my bearings, I’m not sure whatI would have done to him. With my adrenaline high and my body convinced I wasfacing an enemy, I could have laid a few blows to his head. Maybe severelyinjured him.
I haven’t had an episode like that in a long time. I still havethe usual ones. I’ll never be totally fine, but I don’t normally lose it. I mightfeel the impulse…Every muscle in my body might urge me to spring to life andkick some ass as every thought in my brain echoes the sentiment, demanding Iact, but I’ve learned how to soothe those thoughts—at least enough that I’m notafraid of going apeshit on an employee.
Today was close.
Too close.
I’ve already been on edge recently. I’m hanging onto my sanityby a thread, and if I’d done something to Jay—hurt him in any way—I never wouldhave forgiven myself. Not just because I’d lose my job and potentially have todeal with a lawsuit, but because it would mean that all this work—every groupsession, every therapy appointment, every month I spent working to find theright cocktail of pills—would have meant shit. I’ve worked too hard to get tothis point. Too hard to live a somewhat normal life, even when the thoughts andemotions feel like they’re too much to handle. Even when they overtake me tothe point where I’m not sure I’ll make it through the day.
I fought in the field, and now I fight in my mind. It’s a battleI’ll never win, and experiences like what just happened in the warehouse remindme of that.
When Jay leaves my office to return to his shift, I rise from mychair, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I’m waiting for this to pass. Formy nerves to settle. But they’re still overexcited.
Raging. Screaming at me to run for my life. Reminding me that ifI’m not shooting, then I might wind up shot.
A weight presses down on my chest, making it difficult for me tobreathe. Heat fills my cheeks, and the way my thoughts swirl, it seems like ifI don’t calm down soon, I might throw up.
I pace around the room, using every mental exercise I canconjure up to soothe myself, but I’m trapped in this spell. The best thing todo in moments like these is to surrender, so I lock my door and curl into aball in the corner of the room. I need a few minutes. Need to remember that asmuch as it feels like these thoughts will destroy me, it’ll pass like it alwaysdoes.
