Unbound fidelity and the measure of dedication erasing doubt.
Sitting there in the glass booth my future, fears, triumphs, and dreams of a family gleamed and called to me with a with a golden beckoning shout. I barely had enough money to buy groceries this week so getting the rings was just a fantasy.
I had to find a way.
My girl Lizbeth hinted last week he needed things between us to, “Go somewhere,” implying marriage. He wasn’t going to just waste time on a relationship without, “Serious commitment.”
The way he gave me the underlying imperative and his attitude made me think he may need to be committed. But, I wasn’t about to get the straightjacket out yet.
My feelings for Lizbeth were strong but I don’t know if love was in my heart.
Definitely not in love.
Constraints of owning a business weigh heavy on a couple.
I own Guerilla Moves, a gym catering directly to the LGBTQ community. I advertise and promote at the fantastic nightclubs around Boystown in Chicago. My favorite haunt, Hydrate Nightclub Chicago!, sent me tons of gym members.
Boystown is a somewhat safe place we can be who we are.
At Guerilla Moves we train individuals who are serious about their fitness.
We do innovative dance classes and CrossFit programs getting our people toned and fit.
The latest hit was a 45-minute Bollywood-inspired dance-fitness class getting everyone involved jazzed with the whacky moves and exhausting intensity.
We like to stay at the forefront of the fitness crazes and excite our gym attendees.
Best jewelry around.
My favorite spot to shop for fabulous rings and bracelets was and always has been Inkling because they carry the oddest, coolest, unique pieces you can’t find anywhere else. The store is right at 2917 1/2 N Broadway which is close to our gym.
Inkling is great because they also have unusual tchotchkes and cards found nowhere else but here in Chicago.
Today, I’m just window shopping and mesmerized by the fantastic rings displayed to walkers-by and my utter brokenness. The rent for our gym space just jumped by nearly double and renovations are killing our margins. Our finances are in the red and I don’t have enough money left over at end of the day to buy tissues to sop up the self-pity I’m drowning in.
Not one to stay down though, I Frank Gillespie will work out of the hole.
I want those rings for Lizbeth and me. It’s our time to tie the knot. We’ll find love and we’re the best together.
An economy of desire and broke partner is difficult to sustain.
Walking home from work is a nightly ritual. Lizbeth and I find it a wonderful time to talk and we made it a rule to never speak about the business for our stroll.
Our apartment is about a mile and a half from the gym and the jaunt is perfect relaxed cardio before settling in for the evening.
I noticed this night is different than other nights. Lizbeth is avoiding me. He taught the last Bollywood dance class and told me he was staying at the gym to do purchase orders for new equipment.
He hated doing purchase orders and usually left that for me. I was going to talk with him about the rings I saw at Inkling earlier in the day. Though I found it odd and disconcerting, I said fine and began to walk home alone.
I felt especially alone and isolated.
The rings at Inkling call to me like a siren and I stop to look at them proudly showcased in the Artfully Crafted Goods shop. Maybe these rings with a proposal will smooth out things between us and give a little spark to our love life.
All I heard is “Hey Quee…” and I felt my head explode. Instant stars everywhere, then blackness. My night suddenly took an unexpected turn.
There was no compass guiding the sense of my body being moved and no clock to give me a reference of time.
Lost in a dream imagination I lept into a shockingly vivid picture.
Suddenly I was in the basement of our gym. Lizbeth and his lover, a man I saw him flirting with at Hydrate while laughing and drinking his favorite gin, were having furious sex. The heat between them was dirty and sensual.
Lizbeth glanced mockingly at me between undulations with his conquest and grinned in a devilish smirk. How could this be happening right in front of me?
What the hell!?
The scene continued for what seemed like forever but for some reason, though I was there I was mute. I couldn’t yell, “Stop!” or anything else, only watch with disgust and arousal as my man enjoyed himself with a bar-pickup.
They climaxed over and over. It was confusing and threatening. My skin crawled.
All at once my skull felt like it was being peeled like a potato yet I felt like joining in for a threesome. Conflicting reasoning in a cacophony of turbulent revulsion and lust washed over me.
Suddenly cold and stinging flashed against my neck.
Shock and relief.
Lizbeth caressed my head and held an ice pack against my neck. He spoke softly to me.
“Babe you’re okay.”
I responded only with a trusting but puzzled cloudy gaze. To my astonishment, we were in the basement of our gym but Lizbeth wasn’t having any relations with any man.
Slowly sitting up the sight before me was at once alarming but filled me with rage and a sense of redemption. There lay a semiconscious man, hands bound behind his back and legs hogtied to his hands. He was naked.
Subconsciously, recognition was immediate however it took Lizbeth a minute to clear up any question I had.
A mistake to believe superiority.
“I came after you a few minutes after you left the gym,” Lizbeth explained.
“You were looking in the window of Inkling. This black Prius rolls up and the asshole on the floor gets out with a bat, yells at you, and smashes you in at the top of your back.”
Lizbeth’s retelling of the scene staggered me into silent wonder. “I sprinted to you and kicked idiot in his knee then beat him until he didn’t move. The Prius took off.”
Without waiting for a response Lizbeth dropped to one knee, pulled out a small grey box and presented me with the two rings from Inkling I had been admiring so much lately.
“I saw you staring at the rings the other day. You didn’t see me but I knew what you were thinking. I’ve been saving up on the side so…” He gave me one of the beautiful brass rings. “Maybe we should think about planning…”
A tear clouded my eyes.
Before I could say yes the middle-aged skinhead lying on our basement floor struggled at the ties roping him in a bundle. He screamed but only for a few seconds before Lizbeth hopped calmly to his feet and stuffed an old smelly sock into Mike Gotts’ mouth.
“I’ve been waiting for him to come to.” Lizbeth seemed to have everything under control. “I looked at his license, good to know who you have tied up in your basement.”
I felt ashamed and elated at the same time. Lizbeth’s strengths and actions were thrilling, exciting, and scary.
“I think it’s time to teach this bigot a lesson. Frank, what do you say we go medieval on this piece of shit?” It was more of a statement than a question.
“Sounds good to me.” I had no qualms about retaliating and honestly felt suddenly energetic.
Engagement and Restoration.
Our wedding was spectacular. We rented Hydrate Nightclub, Chicago! for the after party. Having recovered financially a year after our incident we could afford just about anything. Guerilla Moves became the hot spot to train, our gym is a bigger hit than ever.
Lizbeth and Frank became united that unusual disturbing night and we are an unstoppable pair.
As for Mike Gotts, we had our way with him and released him naked about
3 am on the Westside of Chicago on West Monroe St. We never heard from Mike again.
Today is an awesome day to be Frank and Lizbeth Gillespie.