By Chance

Disclaimer: The characters are mine. Any reflection of real life events is merely coincidental.



Work had been uneventful, despite the twinges in his shoulders telling him otherwise. He fixed one engine, performed five lube jobs, had Old Bill tell him to pull his head out of his ass-which was a normal occurrence, and then one of the lifts broke and dropped the engine of an ’87 Suburban. He and some of the other guys had to pick it up, thus leading to the minor pains in his shoulders.



As he reached his front door, he closed his eyes and threw his head back in slight hope that his decision to leave this chick in his apartment didn’t cost him all his furniture.



The key turned in the lock and the door slowly pushed open. He took a breath. What was that smell? Well, obviously the furniture was still in place, the kitchen looked cleaner than he’d ever seen it. What’s that-chicken? There was actual food being cooked on his stove. The popping and fizzing hot pan appeared to contain the large batch of fried chicken Joe Vic had ever seen outside of the KFC.



He looked up when he heard the bathroom door open and the toilet flush. Her light feet padded across the floor. His first assessment had been right. She was lean with minor curves and a small chest of bosom, but now awake and staring at him, she was still stunningly gorgeous. She jumped as she saw him standing over the active pans on the stove.



“Oh! Um, hi.” She grinned nervously.



“Hi.” He said flatly. Joe Vic noticed she abandoned some of her clothes for his baggy boxers and her tight tank top which exposed her bosom.



She stood, partially rocking from foot to foot. “Um, I hope you don’t mind…” She pointed to the food on the stove. “I just…um thought that I could repay you for helping me last night.”



Joe Vic nodded silently. “Sure.”



He reached into the fridge to take a beer, tilting the bottom in her direction asking if she wanted one. “No, thank you.” She continued to bounce into the kitchen after Joe Vic moved out of the way. His big body like a boulder that kept the entrance blocked.



He tossed his jacket that read ‘Rolling Wheels’ on the back of the couch and headed for his meager table. She’d really gotten acquainted with the place fast. There was a real fork and knife and placemats like the type Mary used whenever she invited him over for dinner.



She’d gone out of her way. But, he had nearly saved her life. A plate materialized in front of him, its smelled…heavenly. The chicken was golden brown with the right amount of crunch, the macaroni and cheese appeared to be not come out of a box and the salad didn’t make him frown. The whole plate was pretty.



“I hope you like it. When I got up and checked your fridge, I couldn’t help but see that you were out of like everything.” Joe Vic grunted. He’d retreated back into his shell of caveman like mannerisms. A glass clinked on the table as ice cube shifted and ice tea was poured in.



Rue stood away from the table and headed back to the bathroom. The idea of not eating was long past the moment he sank his teeth into the chicken. It was unbelievable. A little spicy, but crunchy and hot. Rue emerged from the bathroom in the same clothes from the night before. Only slightly less dingy. He stopped with a drumstick midway to his mouth.



“Um, thanks again for your help. But, I think I need to scoot on out of here.” Joe Vic nodded silently, just noticing that Rue had a soft southern drawl in her words.



“Thanks again.” The door closed and Joe Vic stared. Where she was going he couldn’t be sure. For that matter, he shouldn’t care either as long as she didn’t get killed. He finished the meal in quiet, honestly realizing it was the best meal he’d ever had. He’d never tell Mary because he enjoyed getting the casual dinner invitation every now and then.



He finished the dinner, packed the enormous amount of leftovers into the refrigerator and sat down to catch the tail end of one of the playoff basketball games. He drank and watched, nothing more.



It was almost midnight when he decided to turn off the television and hit the sack. He was almost to his bedroom when he heard a knock. It was light and hesitant.



“Yeah?” He called from just beyond the door.



“It’s me.” The drawl said in a soft voice.



Joe Vic opened the door to see Rue leaning in the frame. She was dripping from another night’s rain. “If you don’t mind, could I stay for the night?”



Joe Vic stared down at her. His dark eyes shrinking down to slits, most people would flinch but she stood unmoved. “Sure.” He moved aside. Rue slipped right in. She headed for the couch and began to slip off her wet clothes.



He just stood watching, kind of unsure of what to do or actually say. “Yeah, you don’t have to sleep on the couch-” She turned to look at him with a disappointed look in her eye.



He rubbed the back of his neck as he realized what she thought he meant. “There’s a bedroom over down that hall.” Then he headed towards his own.”



Her mouth turned into a surprised ‘O’’. “Oh. Well, thanks . ‘Night.” Rue headed off in the other direction.



Joe Vic tossed himself down on his bed. He wasn’t sure what he was doing here. He felt like he was floundering big time. He’d never had a girl or a woman for that matter in his apartment. His reputation as loser and sometimes brawler with a bad temper had left him getting friendly with his right hand on more occasions than not. He was blacklisted with the ladies of the Slum. None of them were going to put up with his continuous cycle of destruction and drinking himself into oblivion.



“Whatever,” he said to the night.



Before the sunlight fully hit his face, the strong scent of coffee fluttered into his nostrils, forcing him wide. He rushed through his morning rituals. Instead of 100 push-ups, he only did 50 and instead of 200 crunches, he only did 100. He grabbed a pair of pants and headed for the kitchen.



“Morning,” Rue greeted. She was wearing the boxers again. “I hope this is okay. I cooked you breakfast.” Joe Vic nodded again. Silence claimed his tongue. She pointed to the table. A stack of pancakes with butter on top was waiting for him along with a glass of orange juice.



She remained in the kitchen, cooking something that popped and cracked as well. He sat down, once again floundering for words. “Thanks.”



“You’re welcome.” She replied. Another plate was placed by in front of him. A hot crispy strips of bacon called to him to eat them next.



Rue sat down in the other available chair at the table. “I’m Rue by the way.” She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Her bruises were still bright and vivid, her presumably full lips still swollen and the split in the bottom an angry red.



“I know.” Joe Vic continued to shovel food in his mouth. She looked surprised. “ –ou … tol’ me –when I …brought.. –ou…here.”



“I never got your name, Cowboy.” She said before sipping her coffee.



Joe Vic eyed her with pretend annoyance. “Joe Vic.”



She smiled. “Sounds like one of those names from down home.” He just scowled.



Rue just stared at him as she drank her coffee. Even though, she was very thin, she was also tall for a girl. About 5’10 or 5’11, but still terribly short when it came to Joe Vic’s 6’6 tall and wide frame. Her crystal eyes mapped his face, taking stock of his nearly bald head to the slashed right brow from a fight years ago.



She was probably afraid.



She should be afraid.



He wasn’t a good guy.



Joe Vic finished and pushed away from the table with a grunted thank you. He headed to the bathroom to get cleaned up for work. By the time he came back, Rue was nearly done with the dishes. He was nearly to the door when her voice floated over to him. “What would you like for dinner?”



He stopped. His silence would have spoken of the depth of some great question being asked. “Uh, whatever.” He turned the doorknob.



“Okay, Have a good day at work.” Rue’s voice floated from the kitchen. Joe Vic walked quickly to work. His insides and his head rattled. Somehow, the knots in his stomach felt uneasy.



Joe Vic came home and always found that Rue was still there. Eventually a routine formed. She’d get up in the morning, cook a breakfast big enough to fed a lumberjack or just Joe Vic. He’d head off to work, while Rue cleaned up the place, did laundry and sometimes shopped.



By the time he came back, she always had dinner done. Always some delicious southern meal, sometimes she’d throw in dessert. Afterwards, he did the dishes and she went out. He never asked where, but he knew she’d be back by midnight. So, Joe Vic stayed up.



They ran in this configuration for two months until it changed. Joe Vic sat in his second hand recliner that Rue found the month before watching some stupid reality show. He was ready to go to bed, but he knew Rue would knock soon. The idea to get her key flashed in his mind and he decided to do it the next day.



There were noises in the hallway. Always some drunken poor couple arguing with each other as they stumbled up the stairs to their apartment.



“Leave me the fuck alone.”



“Yeah, you wish you bitch! Come here.”



“Get the fuck off me!” That was Rue.



“Now, you don’t want it bitch, fuck that!”



Joe Vic swung the door open; it banged against the apartment’s wall chipping the plaster. He saw the nasty little prick on top of Rue, fist raised to hit her again since her face was slight bruised along her cheek. The jerk didn’t have time to back up as he was lifted off Rue and tossed against the wall. Joe Vic’s giant fist pinning him up.



“You bitch, call him off!” The john spat. Joe Vic’s fist tightened around the jerk’s throat. Rue back peddled into the apartment. The bathroom door slammed loudly.



“Hey man, back off alright. This has nothing to do with you…” he gasped for air as Joe Vic continued to squeeze. “-she’s a fucking freak.”



“That’s not nice.” Joe Vic gritted through his teeth. He really needed to talk to Rue about her line of work, if it was always going to cause her to get hurt. “Tough guys like you shouldn’t go around hitting girls.”



The jerk pushed his head against the wall. He tried to lurch for Joe, but couldn’t so he laughed nervously, almost insanely due to the lack of oxygen. “A girl?! That freak’s no girl, just some pathetic boy wanting turn himself into a science project.” He continued laughing and gasping. “You thought…ha ha…that she…he was…a real girl…hahah!”



Joe Vic saw read. He slammed the john against the hallway wall again effectively shutting the guy up. The guy’s head began to roll dizzily from side to side. Joe Vic moved deeper into the guy’s personal space until they were inches apart. “You bother her again, and I’ll rip you balls off. You ever try to hurt her again and so help me, I’ll fucking find you and make you into a girl. Got me.” He growled. The jerk nodded unequivocally. Joe Vic dropped him into a heap of sputtering cough asshole.



The guy back down the hall, all the while stumbling and rubbing his throat coughing. Once he was out of sight, Joe Vic stared at the darkness of the apartment.



A hand ghosted over his bald head and down his neck as he thought about the situation. Rue wasn’t…Rue wasn’t a girl. He entered the apartment, shutting the door softly. He didn’t know how he should feel, so he grabbed a beer.



He and Rue never talked, so he couldn’t get mad for her not telling him. Frankly, it wasn’t any of his business what she or he did to their body. He finished his beer and left the bottle in the kitchen.



Much of the apartment was dark so the light beneath the bathroom door. She probably thought he was going to have some sort of ‘phobe freak out. Joe Vic took a deep breath. The knock on the door was hesitant, so he knocked lightly again. He thought Rue might have gone out window until he heard a muffled, “Please don’t kick me out.”



“Rue, I’m not kicking you out…I just want to see if you’re okay.” He waited by the door. It didn’t open immediately so he turned to head off to his bedroom. When the lock eased out of its place, Joe Vic stopped. Rue stood in the doorway, her head hanging low. “I’ve go nowhere else to go…please don’t kick-,” Joe Vic tilted her chin up.



“I already told you I wouldn’t.” His big hand traveled up slowly to Rue’s face. A meaty thumb wiped away the tracks of her mascara stained tears. A slight smile did come to his lips. “I must say this though…” Rue’s eyes filled with worry. “I think you should pick another line of work. I keep saving you from assholes. What am I, your personal asshole police?” He joked.



Rue laughed and a new batch of tears sprang forth. Joe Vic nervously stepped closer to her body, which felt like all girl, to wrap his big arms around her. She cried into his chest and clung to his neck. Mumbled ‘I’m sorry’s’ could be deciphered every so often.



He just held her, wondering if he should say ‘him’ or ‘her’; definitely not ‘it’.



She wasn’t his girl. She-he was his boy.



TBC/?



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