The Unearthing of Blackstone Page 17

  “How do you know that for certain, Ace? You said yourself, during your last visit, that you don’t know the particulars and even if it were true, that does not determine your worth.”

  “I know it for a damned fact because my parents live less than a mile away from that fucking church and it was in all the newspapers! A woman was seen leaving the scene. It had to have been her.”

  Dr. Rose was right. Ace didn’t know this for a fact, but who else could it have been? No one claimed him… What kind of mother does that?

  “My worth isn’t based on the bitch that popped me out of ’er lousy pussy and abandoned me, it’s based on my own self image and I’m not shit!” His eyes became blurry with something foreign — a well of moisture that threatened to expose him for the fraud that he was.

  Fuck!

  Dr. Rose was quiet while Ace swallowed down his hurt feelings, trying to banish them away. The tears burned in his eyes, his throat constricted. He’d never dealt with this before; the shit hurt, it hurt bad. He’d never spoken of feeling abandoned, unloved, uncared for. He never expressed the hollowness in his heart — trying to fathom how a mother could leave her baby alone in the dark, all alone, and not even look back. Dr. Rose had exposed things about him no one else had, but he’d signed up for this. How could he properly love himself or anyone else unless he addressed the problem?

  “I don’t want to be that man anymore, the man that doesn’t care…” Ace’s voice waivered as he scratched the side of his head and the tears continued to stream down. “I want a good life. I want be happy. I deserve to be happy!”

  “You do…What makes this time different?”

  “I’m older now, more mature.” He sniffed and quickly removed the wetness from his face with a tissue from the doctor’s desk. “I am seeing myself for what I really am.”

  “And what is that, Mr. Blackstone?”

  “A coward.”

  A silent pause ensued, one made of prickly steel wool that grew between them. His words hung in the air like old, ratty Christmas tinsel in July. Pretty interesting, but out of place and unwanted. The truth was ugly, but it sparkled in a wondrous sort of way.

  “Mr. Blackstone.” The doctor removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes with tight fingertips as if tired. “You do realize that you may never find out who your birth parents are. I would like for you to, but you have to accept the possibility that it may be a dead end. You have to create your own closure from this. You have to look at what you do know about yourself and build upon it. Yes, parental involvement, acknowledgement, and knowing one’s genetic history are beneficial, but if for some reason, such as in your case, that information is missing or unobtainable, your life still has meaning! You have given two people that created you the power to control your destiny. Is that fair to you, Mr. Blackstone?”

  Ace sat there quietly and thought about that question for awhile. “Life isn’t fair. But I understand what you’re digging at.”

  “When do you plan to do something about it?”

  “I am…I want that woman.”

  Dr. Rose grinned, tapped his desk with his knuckles then laughed lightly.

  “Normally, I would encourage a client to use whatever they needed, as long as it doesn’t hurt them or another, to get over a hurdle. I’m on the fence with this. For once, you are going after someone, knowing full well that a relationship could evolve and you aren’t shying away from that possibility. This shows progress. On another hand, you’re sacrificing your company’s integrity and your reputation by going forward with this and you also are leaving the situation one-sided, since she doesn’t know your original true intentions. A woman isn’t going to solve your problems. You realize that, don’t you?”

  Ace sighed and sat back, clasping his hands together. “Let me take your last statement in reverse.” He felt a bit calmer now. That angry purge had been liberating. The damn tears felt good. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d cried, but now that he had, and it was over…it was an absolute relief. “I built my company, The Blackstone Agency, by myself, with my own mind and these two hands.” He held up his fists. “I am a solo operation. It has made my tax man very irate,” he chuckled and shrugged, “but that is what it is. If someone wishes to destroy me over this, I will simply build again. I’m good at that. I’m good at walking into disaster areas, into messes, and conducting a transformation. My job requires it. Every case is a puzzle, a sort of calamity. Whether I’m doing an identity theft case, a basic company investigation, chasing a missing person, or a workman’s compensation case, it all stems from suspicion, many times based on a broken heart.

  “People are willing to pay me thousands of dollars for information they already know…but people are visual, Dr. Rose. We torture ourselves with proof. We know our mate is cheating, yet we need a photo or a video of some other bastard banging our woman, of her gobblin’ his knob, or some guy fucking her until she can’t breathe. Then, and only then, do we then say, ‘Okay, this bitch is cancelled from the payrole and I’m filing for divorce as soon as my lawyer answers his fucking phone.’ Year after year, I have to obtain footage like that…Sorry for my crudeness, but this is just how I see the world. The world is cruel, crude, rude, fucked up, and gives birth to people just like it, with the same sicknesses. I’m one of those people.” He pushed his finger into his chest. “I can tear shit up, and I can rebuild it bigger and better than it ever was. I fix shit, make it right. That’s what I do.”

  “You have a lot of confidence in yourself. You should use some of that same confidence to believe that you are bigger than your past.”

  “It has nothing to do with confidence. It has to do with facts.”

  “It is a fact that you are self made?” Dr. Rose’s brow rose and a smirk creased his face.

  “No, that’s not what I mean. I’m saying that all men and women who don’t know who the hell they are but are vocationally successful are self-made. I’ve been through hell. That’s why I’ve got a damn tattoo of flames on my chest, to remind me of that in case I get too complacent and forget. I don’t know who the hell made me, so I have to be self made, Dr. Rose.”

  “Interesting perspective.”

  “As far as the woman being able to change me or make a difference…” He shrugged. “I tend to disagree. I think a person can help lead us to a better version of ourselves. Can she or anyone save me? Nah, not at all.” Ace shook his head. “But maybe I need a tour guide for this part of my life. If I’m open to her, that means something. You said yourself, it’s a step in the right direction. Maybe I’m drawn to her not just because she’s sexy, funny and smart…but she makes me feel something I’ve never felt before. I think about her all the time. I long to talk to her on the phone. We are constantly laughing, even when the topic isn’t funny. It’s not some gushy, silly shit; it’s real. Yeah, the romance and chemistry are there, but it’s like…it’s just deeper than that. Something about her calls me to her and I have to acknowledge that I hear the demand. I have to say, ‘Hey, I hear you baby, I’m coming.’”

  He watched the doctor’s face split in a smile. He may not have agreed with Ace’s self-analysis, but he knew at least portions of it had merit.

  He zipped up his jacket, prepared to haul his ass out of there. “Thank you for granting me a platform to work out all of this mess that has been trapped inside of my brain, for giving me an outlet. I’m never still long enough to think about this sort of thing, and when I am, I don’t do it. I don’t like doing it.”

  “So, what is your plan when you go out this door?” Dr. Rose pointed behind him.

  “To keep on lying until I can tell the truth, as fucked up as that sounds. I want to tell the truth as soon as possible, but I gotta know that she’s worth it.”

  “Aren’t you worth it, Ace?”

  “No, not really. I could get up right now,” he turned and pointed to the closed door, “and call my client, tell him her coordinates, get a very nice check and go on with my life. Or, I can follow my hun
ch that this man has no business finding her, get to know her, and see if she could be someone I could be with…let inside. She may need me as much as I need her. I don’t know. She’s got some problems but no one is aware of ’em.”

  “Kind of like you.”

  “Yeah, I guess you could say that. All I know is that I’m a grown ass man and this is embarrassing. That’s why it took me so long to get help about it, you know?” Ace smirked and shook his head in disbelief. “Having nightmares all the time…waking up screaming, too. Being that angry son of a bitch that everyone hates but envies. It’s a fucked up, lonely life. I hate it. I hate being lonely yet I chose this.”

  “I’m glad you’ve taken accountability. Now, before you go, I want to talk a bit about your parents and your abandonment issues.”

  “My abandonment issues? There isn’t much to say. I was adopted because my parents didn’t want me.” He shrugged, feeling detached from any sort of emotion. “Wait…they aren’t my parents, actually. I need to stop calling them that. No, Sarah and Gregory are my parents. They raised me. They took care of me, stuck by me. They are getting up in age, and all my mom wants is to forget about the past. She told me she forgives me; she’s told me that a million times but it still haunts me. I did some rotten stuff, Dr. Rose. Things that… if I ever have kids, I don’t know what I’d do if my son or daughter did or said some shit like that.”

  “You were hurting, Ace. You were a different person then.”

  “Was I?” He laughed lightly — without mirth. “I’m not sure about that. In some ways, I’m still rotten. Look at me.” He put his hands up. “I’m lying to two people who think I am a great guy. That’s a fucked up thing to do, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, actually I do. However, I understand where it is stemming from. This is bigger than that. I encourage you to follow your own truth and extend it to others, as you stated you wish to do. If you were so rotten, Mr. Blackstone, you wouldn’t be bothered by your lack of truthfulness to the parties involved.”

  “You know what’s so messed up about this whole situation with Brooklyn?” Ace leaned back in his chair.

  “Is that her name or simply what you are calling her?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Not really. I was just curious.”

  “Her name is Brooklyn. Anyway, what’s so messed up about all of this is that if I came off as a slime-ball, I may have been able to sleep with her that same night. I’m good at reading people, just like I told you. From that one date, I found out so damn much.”

  “And what did you discover?”

  “She has a tan line on her ring finger, yet she isn’t married. She wears it to ward off unwanted attention. That is what attractive women who don’t want to be in committed relationships do. Yet, the night we went out, it was gone. That tells me she desires me on some level and doesn’t want to appear completely closed off. The woman also wears glasses for God’s sake, and is still sexy as hell. I love her glasses, actually. They suit her.”

  “Tell me more about her…what you like about her, physically.”

  “Well, last I saw her, she had on very little make-up, but she looks good without it, as well as with it. I’ve seen her all dolled up and dressed down. She’s just a naturally gorgeous woman.” His thoughts drifted off a bit as he reminisced. “…Her tits are small, too…sorry, breasts. I’m usually into big jugs, but with her, it doesn’t even matter. Anyway…” He wiped his nose. “She’s built real nice and one part of her seems very confident, as you stated, like me. This other part is dark and clandestine, mysterious. It draws me in. I like solving mysteries and she is one. I think I have a hidden attraction to bad women, Dr. Rose.” He laughed. “Not shitty, like cheating-on-me-‘bad’, but just enigmatic. Part of me is attracted to her because of this fact. And it concerns me.”

  “Why?”

  “If I solve this mystery, will I walk away from her?”

  “Well, that is part of the problem we’ve been discussing. You aren’t afraid to fall in love, you are afraid to remain in such a state. So, back to your question, I don’t know, you tell me…”

  “I don’t believe I will. She will always be a walking paradox in some regards. One thing I really like about her is, she has some Southern charm, like my mother.”

  “Your mother, hmmmm… and I take it you like that?”

  “I love that.”

  “She kept playing with her hair, tucking it behind one ear. That is a sign of attraction.”

  “I agree, it customarily is.”

  “I think she may have believed I was a prime candidate for a one night stand...before we got to know one another, of course.”

  “What would make you come to that conclusion?’

  “She kept playing with her keys… When someone is playing with their keys or watch, or their coat even, it means they are anxious to leave. These objects denote time, motion, departure. Yet despite being uneasy, she was attracted to me. This compounded the problem, at least for her. For me, it wasn’t an issue. I don’t use women for sex. That is never my intention. I mean, I enjoy sex. I enjoy intimacy, period. I want it regularly, if at all possible, but it isn’t something that rules my mind all the time.”

  “And you believe it may rule hers?”

  “No. That’s not what I’m saying. I believe that if I had taken it there, and not shown any depth as a man, she may have been fine with that. Not that she wanted to be used, but she, too, is skittish about commitments. She walked into the restaurant with a certain look in her eye. I rose to allow her to sit down, and her eyes went immediately to my crotch.”

  Dr. Rose adjusted his glasses.

  “And you’re not accustomed to women viewing men openly as sexual objects, or someone they could derive sexual gratification from?”

  “Of course I’m accustomed to that.” Ace chuckled. “It’s just that I didn’t really expect her to be so obvious. Once I noticed, I formed a hypothesis as to why. Regardless, as funny as it is, although it didn’t seem to really match her ‘classy’ demeanor, she wanted to know what I was working with.”

  “Working with? I don’t understand.”

  “Sorry, that means she was trying to make an assessment of how many inches my…my package offers. Look, this woman is an anthropologist. She looks at bones all day. She was trying to gauge my bone’s measurements and then bone me, too. Make no bones about it...it stroked the hell out of my ego.”

  Both men burst out laughing.

  “Women associate shoe size with penis size. I’ve always found that odd.”

  “You’ve switched directions a bit.” Dr. Rose gave a slight smile.

  “Yeah, I suppose I have.” Ace glanced down at his footwear. “I wear a size ten and I’m six foot two, maybe three depending on who is measuring. I have small feet for a man my height. Not that you care, but if she relied on that, she’d be mistaken. My shoe size can’t be trusted…”

  The doctor let out a slight groan and attempted to hide a sheepish grin behind his now cold mug of noodles.

  “So what happened on the date?” He stirred the limp things around.

  “She cut the date short. It was one of the best, if not the best, date I’d ever had. But…she ran. I got it back on track though. We’re going out again.”

  “Why are you going through all of this, Ace?”

  “I’ll tell you why. Let’s go back to the wedding band… Even though it is a front, a part of her wishes it were real. She wears it too much, has gotten accustomed to it. She is a sexual being, just like the rest of us on this planet. She can’t freely date or be herself, because she is in hiding. She abruptly ran away from me. That let me know she knew I was about more than sex. She felt a connection with me and, knowing herself as well as she does, she figured she needed to leave me alone or everything could come to a head.

  “She wore red and black…red is passion, black is to hide oneself. She is a dichotomy. She wore a black dress when I first met her and asked her on a date, as well as b
lood red lipstick and a red cocktail ring. She looked at me, scanned me real slow. Her eyes met mine and we looked at one another for a long ass time, like we were afraid to blink. Then, she looked at the hem of my pants, and my shoes.”

  “Ace, you’re quite an interesting man.” Dr. Rose’s eyes narrowed as he stared deeply into his eyes, seemingly taking all the information in. “The hem of your pants, though?”

  “Yeah…they were too short. Anyway, she is constantly travelling between two masters. She is being torn in two.”

  “You are very good at this, Mr. Blackstone.” Dr. Rose smiled, nodding with an expression that showed nothing short of admiration. “I am duly impressed. This is a gift. Or, maybe I’m mistaken. Did you learn these things during your training with your mentor, this heightened skill of observation?”

  “No, just from scrutiny. I like watching people. I like collecting information and piecing it together. I can tell someone a lot about themselves, just by being with them for, say, ten minutes. The fucked up part is, I’ve spent over thirty years with myself, and can hardly tell you anything about me…nothing that matters, anyway. And do you know what is even more fucked up than that, Dr. Rose?”

  “What?”

  “I’ve been happy to be my own worst mystery up until this point. I want to be solved...”

  ~***~

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “I like to complete everything I start. I told you I was takin’ you dancing, and that’s what I meant.” His head bobbed to the heavy bass infused music as he tapped his left foot and seemed to be warming up for something monumental.

  “I see that…” Brooklyn stood inside of the entranceway of the Late Club and Bar on West Belmont. She looked around the place, surprised that it was so jam packed at nine at night. It was obviously a popular haunt, and Ace blended right into the environment. Fact was, she’d felt as giddy as could be when she saw his number flash across her phone for the umpteenth time since they’d met, and her heart had flipped when he’d asked her out again, despite her rather childish display at the end of their first date; she’d run out into the street like some wounded animal chased by a ravenous predator. She would not let that happen again…