Chapter 22
A FAVOR
It was evident that George had something on his mind. Johner couldn’t remember him ever closing the door to his office, but he closed it today, shutting the two of them inside.
George appeared to be at a loss for words. "Ah,---Johner, I---well, the truth is, I want a favor. A personal favor."
"George, I’ll be very happy to do anything I can for you, personal or otherwise; I hope you know that. What do you need?"
"I don’t like to ask this, Johner, but I need for you to intimidate Clifford Dexter; that’s Heather’s father. There’s trouble in that house, and I can’t stand by and let him beat those women. Someone has to put the fear of God into him." George looked down at his hands on his desk. "There was a time I would have taken care of this myself, but---not any more. I’m too old, Johner." He looked up, reluctantly meeting Johner’s eyes. "I need your help."
"I’m glad that you asked me, George. Just let me know what you want; I’ll do as much or as little as you say. Want me to break his arm? Or just make him hurt some? Or maybe you just want me to scare hell out of him?"
"He’s a hard nosed bastard, you may have to do him some physical damage. Johner, I can hire someone, but I just don’t feel good about doing that. These women are scared enough, I don’t want to send someone in there who’s going to scare them worse."
"No, no, George, don’t hire someone. I’m fine with it; I did something like this for a living for years. The women know me, they won’t be scared of me. I won’t do anything in front of them."
"Thank you, Johner." George shook his head. "I’ve always known Dexter was a drunk, but not that he hit her. If she’d come to me before, we could have taken care of this years ago." He frowned. "She’s got family; that’s what we’re here for. Damn it, why didn’t she come to me sooner?"
"Well, we’ll take care of it now. I’ll let you know what happens. Is he out of jail?"
"He gets out tomorrow, and he’s already threatened to beat hell out of Marie. She hasn’t told Heather; didn’t want her to worry. But I think they’re both at risk; he’s beaten both of them before."
"Maybe I’d better be there to meet him when he gets out. Can you tell the women not to meet him? I’ll bring him home." Johner thought for a minute. "I’m going to tell him that I work for you. We don’t want him to think that Marie hired me. Is that OK?"
"That’s fine."
"He could come after you."
"I’m not afraid of him. I can still defend myself if I need to. He’s an amateur, and I haven’t forgotten everything I knew. Johner, I’m in your debt."
"No. I owe you, George. For a lot of things." The two men shook hands.
********
Sarah was not happy with the arrangement. "Johner, I can’t believe you’re going to do this. This kind of thing is the very thing you’re trying to forget!"
Johner nodded. "You’re right, it’s not something I look forward to; but George needs my help." He shrugged. "I’d never turn him down on anything he asked; this is something I can do to show him how grateful I am for his kindness to me. He’s a good man, Connor. He accepted me on faith, on your say-so, and he’s never questioned my honesty or my loyalty, or failed to support us, whatever happened."
"That’s true; I just hate to see you doing something that you’re going to feel bad about, and I know you will." She put her hand up to his face, and touched it lightly. "Babe, I’m sorry you’ve been put in this position, but I can see why you’re going to do it."
"Thanks, Connor. That helps; you always understand. I love you."
*******
When Johner came home from his unpleasant errand he looked grim.
"How did it go?" Sarah looked up at him searchingly.
"Not very well. He is a hard-nosed bastard, like George said." Johner’s head was down. "I had to hurt him."
"Oh babe, I’m sorry."
"And I’m not sure I did scare him off. He’s not a coward. A mean son of a bitch, but not a coward. That’s the worst combination."
Sarah put her arms up, and Johner came into her embrace gratefully. His head went down to rest against her neck, and he held her to him with tenderness, murmuring his love and his gratitude. "My babe, I love you---thanks for being here for me, I love you so much---so much!"
In a minute he looked up at her. "It’s probably not over, Connor. He’s mad, and he’s not afraid. I’m wondering if they’re all right---if I should I have stayed around there. I just wanted to get home so bad."
"Do you want to go back?"
She saw decision in his eyes. "Yes. I shouldn’t have left." He kissed her quickly and turned for the door, his hand reaching for his keys.
*****
Sarah waited for four hours.
After the first half hour she wished she had gone with him, but there was
nothing to do now but wait.
It was well after two in the morning when Johner get back.
"You’ve been gone a long time. Is everyone all right?"
"No, everyone isn’t. Clifford Dexter is in the hospital. Marie was treated and released in the emergency room. I don’t want to talk now, please, Connor. I want to get in the shower. And then I want to go to bed. OK?" He wasn’t looking at her. "Please, just go to bed. I’ll be there when I’ve showered."
"OK, Johner. I’ll be here when you want to talk about it." She put her hand on his shoulder. He didn’t look up, and he didn’t return her caress.
Sarah waited for an hour; when he didn’t come to bed she got up and went looking for him. She found him in the kitchen, sitting at the table, drinking coffee.
"OK, let’s talk about it, Johner. You’ve got to sleep sometime; it looks to me like you’re not going to until you get it out." She got a cup, sat down opposite him, and poured coffee. As she sipped, she watched him over the rim of the cup. His face was expressionless; with Johner that was not a good sign.
"What happened?"
He didn’t answer right away.
Then---"I broke his jaw." 
"I guess you must have hit him pretty hard."
"Too hard, Connor. And too many times." He got up suddenly and with three long strides was out of the room.
Sarah sat for a minute looking at the empty doorway, then got up and followed him into the living room. He was sitting in the dark, barely visible to her in the trickle of light from the kitchen.
She sat down beside him on the sofa and turned to face him. "Johner, I see that something bad has happened to you. Listen to me now. There is nothing that is so bad that I won’t understand, nothing that will make the least difference in my love for you. You can tell me anything, Johner. Tell me."
When he began to talk his voice was a monotone. "Nothing has changed. Nothing. I am the same. Whatever made me think there could be a change?" As he continued his voice began to have some expression. "It’s a joke. I am what I am. The bottom of the barrel. Slime. Street slime." He laughed softly, bitterly.
"What happened? Tell me."
"I nearly killed him, Connor. I would have if Marie hadn’t stopped me. Connor---" he paused, his head went down into his hands; his voice was harsh. "I enjoyed it! I got off on it! It was just the same---Christ, it was just the same! I’ve been lying to myself, and to you. I’m the same---animal---I’ve always been!"
Sarah knelt beside him, and put her arms around him. "Not true, not true! Johner, you have to trust me on this. You are a different man! Wouldn’t I know? Do you think I could live with you and not know?"
He was stiff in her arms, holding himself away from her. "Don’t, Connor. I can’t touch you."
Sarah reached up to turn on the light. She put her hand under his chin, and turned his face up to hers. "Look at me! And listen! OK---maybe you haven’t changed. Maybe you’re still that crude, cruel man in some part of you. Maybe you always will be. But Johner, it makes no difference to me. I love you. I love what you are, whatever you are. And I want you. I want your arms around me. So be---whatever you are! I want you anyway. You’re my man, Johner. That’s it, that’s the last word." She smiled at him, her mouth a little tremulous. "Please, love me. Don’t pull away from me; I love you so."
His arms came around her then, he held her to him and rocked her back and forth. "God, I love you---but Connor, I don’t deserve you! How can you want me? I’m---muck, the dregs, the bottom layer!"
"Stop that! What you are is my man. You’re mine, I’m yours. That’s all there is."
He spoke softly, to himself really.
"That’s all there is? I wish that were true. I wish I could
believe that."