He stares up at the ceiling again.
“You don’t have to sugarcoat it,” I assure him. “Aside fromthe being in jail part, my life has definitely had its sharp turns.” I spread my arms wide. “Like landing in a biker-owned strip club with the outlaw himself.”
He barks out a laugh. “You got a funny fuckin’ way of putting shit.”
“Well, it’s true, so c’mon, spill, I guarantee I won’t be surprised, and if I am, I’ll act like I’m not.”
“Nah, I’m sure you don’t wanna hear the fucked-up story of my life.”
“Quite the opposite.” Which totally surprises me. When I ducked into The Tropics last night, the only thing on my mind was hiding out and maybe getting a low-level job to earn quick cash. Then, in less than twelve hours, I’m on the edge of my seat, raptly waiting for Diesel’s life story.
He cocks his head. “You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Three years ago, I was married to a stripper at a big club in Nashville.” He opens the dishwasher and starts stacking the dishes. “I thought we were happy, but the first time I caught her cheating with her personal trainer, she claimed he was just showing her some new exercises. I didn’t believe her, but I let it go when she quit the gym and promised it would never happen again.”
“You’re very forgiving.”
“Too forgiving, ‘cause a month later, I went to pick her up at the strip club one night, and she wasn’t outside waiting for me. So, I go in and find her in the office bent over the desk, taking the owner’s dick while sucking off one of the bouncers.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah, I kinda lost it. Ended up putting the bouncer in the hospital and gave the owner a broken arm.”
“Can’t say I blame you.” I make a pained face. “What happened with your wife?”
“She justified the whole thing, saying she did it for extra money so we could buy a house. Seemed she’d been whoring herself out for a while, and somehow she twisted it back on me, making me sound ungrateful for not appreciating her ambition.”
“Amazing. Just shows what you can get away with if you have the right cover story.” Eduardo’s been doing it for years.
“Only thing was, the owner had some mob ties in Kansas City, and they didn’t look kindly on the owner of one of their most profitable clubs getting busted up. They gave me two choices. Get the fuckouttaTennessee or get fucked upinTennessee.”
“So, really one choice.”
“At the same time, my loving wife hired a big-time lawyer with all the money she made whoring and was charging me with mental abuse and PTSD.”
“How did that work?”
“She claimed watching me beat her boss and the bouncer senseless messed with her head. I tried to remind the lawyer that she was fuckin’ her brains out while married to me, but he slapped a restraining order on me, claiming I was unbalanced, while reminding me of all my priors.” He slams the dishwasher door shut. “The only logical solution was to pick up and get the fuck out.”
“Yup, definitely a Lifetime movie.”
“Kinda put me off women.” He laughs. “I mean, I still like women, but I swore no more serious involvements.”
Good to know.
“You said you were married twice, so was this wife number one or wife number two?”
“She was number two. Number one was a sweet girl I went with in high school. We got married right after graduation. Having no money, we moved in with my family, and soon found out living in the same house with my crazy brothers wasn’t thebest idea. She ended up running off to Chicago with my younger brother, who was gonna set her up with a modeling agency, and a week later, I was served divorce papers.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think you should just give up. Either you have the worst luck, or you pick the worst women.”
“A little of both.”
“Did your brother marry her?”
“Nah, he ended up getting busted again in Chicago. Seems the modeling agency turned out to be an escort service. A year later, she was back in Tennessee, shacked up and pregnant by some other guy.”
