10
10
BEST-WORST
O ur first fight, and it was about that mundanest of things: money. Not very original.
Before that little hiccup, that briefly jolted us back down to earth, we were like two aliens transplanted from another planet. And we came starving: for food, for freedom, for fun . . . and sex. We could not get enough. I mean really. Could. Not. Get . Enough . . . of each other. And once we started, we couldn’t stop. It’s like we invented it.
When we weren’t fucking, we were touching. If we weren’t touching, we were eating, or talking, or walking, jogging, swimming, or even driving someplace she’d never been. I wanted to share so many of her “firsts” I’d missed out on (because of that dude I should’ve kept on going with). Forgive me Jesus! (I started on her religion.) I would find myself staring at her like I did when I was a boy sprouting into puberty—in a new and exciting way.
She was a dream. This girl I’d been dreaming of since The Academy unearthed her from the plains of New Mexico. A flashback to that empty Jeep seat. I remembered picturing her there, like she was now, riding shotgun with a baseball cap, hair flapping out the window, an easy-breezy smile erupting every time she caught sight of me.
Heaven. Though I knew from her frequent visits to St. Mary’s she worried she was going to Hell. That’s where I found her this afternoon, upon my return from the call of duty. We ran back to the house, which was sparkling clean like she’d spent all day scrubbing every surface down with a toothbrush, to grab our “love sheets.” A more apt expression, I’d yet to hear. So onward we went to find a washer and dryer—I wasn’t in the mood to share Kate with the Henrys just yet.
Instead of a laundromat, I pulled up to an apartment complex where I’d done some business (and some other stuff I was done with forever). They’d changed the code, a ridiculous security measure they did every month. And since no one was there to let us in, I used those Academy skills (and the rake pick and tension wrench I had hanging round the back of my Jeep) to pick a medium-duty, punch-button lock on a gate. That let us right in. And we sauntered along the sidewalk with our laundry baskets and earth friendly soap, with her teasing me that “My Academy was showing.”
I was still laughing my ass off as we entered into a very cozy laundry room, complete with TV and Wifi, and found ourselves alone. So I dumped my basket and grabbed my accomplice and kissed her neck, a weak spot on her I shamelessly exploited. She leaned into me and let out a long sigh, peering up at me with eyes already hooded with desire.
“Not here,” she said so unconvincingly I had to laugh again.
She poked her tongue out at me and started stuffing a washer with our bedding, while I did the same with our jeans.
“Oh, God Pete. Our sheets.” She made a face. “I almost feel guilty washing them in a communal washer . . . they’re so dirty.”
“Relax,” I said. “They’re only rated R dirty. We’ll save the bleach when we ratchet up to X.” I waggled my eyebrows at her and watched her face turn a new shade of pink. I laughed out loud again.
After a while of sitting there watching her watch TV while our clothes got all mixed up and cleaned, she turned to me with a certain look I was getting used to again.
“Pete,” she said casually, “what did you mean earlier today when you said I shouldn’t get too attached to Ty Jennings?”
I let out a hard sigh and played with her soft hair for a second while she stared at me. “It means I had to burn that alias getting you out. So I have to get a new one.”
Her face crumpled a little. “I’m really sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. That was the best use of some dead presidents and that dude’s identity I’ve ever used. He even got to serve a higher purpose while being six feet under. I’m sure that earned him some brownie points with God.”
“You’re using a dead guy’s identity?”
I decided to humor my way out of this one. Girls couldn’t be counted on to be pragmatic about certain things. “I was using a dead guy’s identity. Don’t worry, St. Peter will still recognize him at the gate, even without his ID.” I followed up with a grin.
She just studied me for a second. “What did you mean about best use of dead presidents?”
Uh-oh. I tried to flirt my way out of this one. I reached over and grabbed the bill of her cap, pulling her to me. “Do you know how damn cute you look in my cap?”
She shook her head and narrowed her eyes at me. The small smile playing on her lips gave me hope that she’d drop it. “Answer me,” she demanded.
No such luck. I gave her my “special” smile and leaned over to exploit that weak spot, nuzzling her neck until that lovely smile curved her mouth. She exhaled and closed her eyes.
“Peeeeete! Stop it!” She snapped her head back down from where she’d unconsciously tipped it back to allow me greater access. “Just tell me. You made me tell you everything.” She hit me with the Bambi eyes.
I hated when she did that, finding her almost irresistible. I flashed back to when she looked at me like that in her wagon-wheel bed. And I almost couldn’t resist making it with an underage, innocent girl. I wished I would’ve fled with her then. Then we wouldn’t be in this mess I’d gotten us into . . . or at least been out of it by now. Could we ever flee from our problems? I breathed in through my nose, smelling trouble.
I tried changing the subject. “Not everything, ” I countered, fingering the tiny crescent in the hollow of her throat. I’d first noticed it when I removed that gold cross her psychotic ex-husband had soldered around her neck. I was going to replace it with something more holy than a gold dog collar. And I was going to have her church annul that abomination that soldered her to him. Then she’d be free of him forever.
“Pete,” she pleaded with her eyes, and I blinked mine to resist her. She confiscated my wandering hand and squeezed it. “Just level with me. I hate being left in the dark.”
I inhaled and exhaled in a long stream and straightened out my legs. “I had to exchange a little money in Mexico to procure that private plane ride home . . . nothin’ but the best for you, babe.” I tried teasing again. “Swear to God, that tin can almost went down half a dozen times midflight. Thought I might have to strap you to my back and parachute us outta there.”
This only elicited a sad little smile. “Pete.” She stopped there.
How heavy my name sounded. I would’ve preferred Ty. So flippy. Ty was a guy with no problems—of course he was six feet under.
Her eyes slanted down at the corners. “Did you have to spend an awful lot?”
Oh Lord. She looked like she was on the verge of producing tears. I thought we were done with that. “Nah,” I dismissed, flipping her wrist to kiss it. “Don’t worry about it . . . worth every penny.”
She shook her head and started to say something when both washers stopped. She looked at them and then at me. And then something just clicked. “Pete, did we come here instead of a laundromat to save money ?”
I rose to my feet and got busy moving clothes around. She got up to help. “What? No!” I denied. “I don’t even know where one is, to tell you the truth. And I didn’t want to spend from now until eternity listening to Ducky Bob’s same old corny jokes. I knew about this place. It was closer. More private. End of story.” I finished shoving in the jeans and dared a glance at her. She hadn’t moved from her washer. “You’d better move those sheets, girl, or else we’ll be spending the night here.” I pushed my tongue to the corner of my mouth and gave her the eyes. “And I’m ready to get home to re-dirty these sheets.
“Pete.” She stepped closer to me, an earnest but determined look on her face. “Look at me when you answer this: Are you completely broke?”
I sighed and raked some hair. “Fine, Kate. Yes, I’m almost completely out of money.” She looked whatever a cross between upset and in love was. “Don’t worry about it,” I dropped. “I’m not.”
She shook her head at me. “I’ve heard that before . . . and look how that turned out.”
She was referring to when I told her I wasn’t worried about getting in trouble with The Academy. “Apples and oranges, Kate. And seriously, give me a week, two tops, and we’ll be sailin’ back on easy street again.”
She snorted. “Easy street. What’s that?”
“It’s the street we’re living on now.”
She smiled at that, something new sparking in her eyes. “Well, I’m gonna help pave the way.”
That’s what I was afraid she was going to say. “You are helping. You’re keeping our love nest clean and me a happy man.”
“That’s not enough,” she scoffed. “You’ve done so much for me, and I feel like I’ve done nothin’ in return.”
I gave her an incredulous look. “I beg to differ, Kate. But fine. Have it your way. We’ll barter—my financial support for your sexual favors.”
I made to grab ass with her when something skivvied across her face I didn’t like. Whoops.
“Pete,” she said, a slight tremor in her voice. “I’m gonna look for a job. Tomorrow.”
Aw, damn. “Kate, honey. You can’t. You have to fly under the radar for a while longer, just until I can get things all squared away. Besides, you deserve a nice, long break. And I like the idea I can give that to you.”
“And I like the idea that I’m contributin’.”
“I already told you, you are contributing.”
“No, I’m not. I’m a dadgum drain .” She set a hand on her hip.
“You’re the opposite of a drain, Kate. Aren’t you listening to me?” I felt myself start to grow hot, but not in a good way. I forgot how stubborn she could be.
“Aren’t you listenin’ to me, ” she countered hotly, seemingly getting as fired up as me. “I want to help out, financially . It’s the least I can do.”
“You don’t need to do anything but lay low and have some dadgum fun for once in your life!” I decided I liked her word enough to keep it.
“Oh, my God, Pete!” She threw up her hands, exasperated. “You’re broke . . . because of me. I can’t just sit around and have fun while you do all the work!”
“It’s not the end of the world, Kate. Nobody’s dying,” I stated, and she winced. Double whoops. I tried again. “Look,” I walked over and wrapped my arms around her, “it’s no big deal. I’ll make it all back, no problem. I already made one fifty today, and I have something set up for Thursday.”
“That’s two days away!” she whined. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I think that’s plenty to tide us over, but if we run out, we can always live on love.” I punctuated by nipping her neck.
“Peeeete!” She made a growling noise in her throat that was half agitation half pleasure.
“Kaaaate!” I growled back at her. “You worry too much. I’ve been on hiatus for the last couple of months. And then we went on a two-week vacation. So we’re a little low on cash. Big deal.” I turned her around and gripped her shoulders. “We have almost no rent. Very little bills.”
Her eyes slanted down. “What if they kick us out?”
“Not gonna happen. We’re tight. And the Henrys are good peeps. I’ve done a lotta work for Bob. Helped him remodel our apartment. Got the Jeep running. Cleaned out gutters. Painted his whole house Navajo white—an oxymoron if I’ve ever heard one,” I said around a grin.
That got her smiling a little. She dropped her head onto my shoulder, breathing me in. I began working the worry knots out of her shoulders.
“All I gotta do is some handy work for the old guy every-once-in-a-while and go fishing when he feels the urge to get away from the Mrs. Maybe eat a Sunday dinner when they barbeque up some ribs. Play a little dominos.” I pulled her back to stare into her eyes. “We’re fine, Kate. More than fine. This is how ninety percent of college students live their lives—paycheck to paycheck. We’re finally living a normal life now. Isn’t that what you always wanted?”
She finally allowed an unsure nod.
I breathed out some relief. “Then will you drop this?”
“For now,” she agreed.
I knew enough about her to know that was the best I was going to get.
When we got home, Kate insisted on making the bed, so I hit the shower. I came out to find her brushing her teeth, deep in thought. That was a bad sign. I’d been hoping she’d be fine with staying home watching Netflix and waiting for me. She obviously needed more to keep her occupied than making me a home-cooked meal. I thought of just the thing.
“You know, Katie-Kat.” I’d noticed that when I used her nickname, I liked so much, she made that face I didn’t like. “Ruthie loves to garden, but she’s getting pretty old to do all the heavy lifting by herself. I thought maybe you could help her with some of her more ambitious projects.” I wrapped the towel she handed me around my waist.
She spit in the sink. I picked up my blue toothbrush, and she replaced hers on the counter. Hers was one of those uber-advanced numbers from The Academy that we didn’t have a charger for. She was already out of charge and had been using it manually for the last week.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doin’.” She kissed my shoulder and headed out.
A minute later I came out to find her putting our laundry away. I sighed. Another bad sign. I was counting on that chore going on tomorrow’s docket. “Okay, Kate. You got me. I’m trying to keep you busy, so you won’t keep worrying about nothing.”
“I’m not really worried anymore,” she announced, plunking down on the couch and clicking on the TV.
Somehow, this should’ve relieved me more. “Great. I’m—”
“Because I thought of a good way to help us out and still fly under the radar.”
Oh shit . “I thought you said you were going to drop it.”
“I did. And then I got to thinkin’.”
“Always a bad sign,” I quipped.
“Ha-ha very funny,” she replied.
I sat down next to her and cupped my hands over my head, waiting for the bomb.
“I can just clean houses.”
Cue the crickets.
“I mean . . . everybody hires illegals for that type of thing, right?” Pause for no forthcoming answer. “So they won’t need identification.”
More Crickets.
“And they don’t get no more illegal than me, am I right? A kidnapped girl who’s been kidnapped.” A desperate call for a laugh was attached to that clever.
She got a single humorless snort out of me. “Nope. They don’t come more illegal than you,” I agreed.
A ray of hope bloomed on her face. “I bet I could make . . .”—her eyes cut up and to the left, like she was trying to figure out a complicated math equation—“like a hundred bucks per house,” she came up with.
I snorted again. She was so clueless about money. And she would spend all day slaving away for a measly hundred bucks. This was Palo Alto for crying out loud; she could make triple that. Not that I would tell her that.
“So . . . whatdoyathink?” She tilted her head to the side cutely.
“I think that’s a terrible idea,” I stated baldly, stopping just shy of searing her with my eyes. I saw hurt moisten her eyes and turned to gaze out the window at a dark, looming shadow. I hated to be so harsh with her but . . .
She swallowed and tried admirably not to act hurt by my harsh face and tone. “Name one reason why.”
“Because I’m not going to have you cleaning someone else’s toilets for a living, that’s why!”
“That’s silly,” she huffed. “I clean our toilet. I used to clean ours back home. I don’t think I’m too good to clean toilets. It’s honest work.” She waved her hand around. “Well . . . except for that whole not payin’ taxes thing.”
“ I think you’re too good to clean toilets.”
“Pete”—she took my hand and began massaging it—“I need to help you. I think it’s a good idea for now. I bet Bob and Ruthie would give me a recommendation. I can start knockin’ on doors tomorrow.”
“Kate!” I blasted at her, yanking my hand away. “Will ya just freakin’ cool your heels for a while? Huh? Please! ”
She leaned away from me as though repelled by my anger. She worked her jaw but didn’t say anything. She turned around, busying herself by folding her damp towel.
I let out a long sigh and grabbed her from behind. “I’m sorry. But you don’t get it. A pretty young girl knocking on doors to clean houses is attracting the wrong kind of attention. Do you understand that? What if someone calls the cops for soliciting?”
“Highly unlikely,” she scoffed. “And I would be able to read their intentions. I don’t think that’s the real reason why not. You’re still an elitest deep down.” She made a stab at turning this around by stabbing me in the chest with her finger. “Your Academy is showing again.”
I rewarded her with a painful smile.
“And it wouldn’t have to be forever,” she said. “But . . . needs must.”
I took her hand. “Kate”—I peered deeply into her earnest eyes—“you have to trust me . . . it’s not a good idea. For so many reasons, and this is the exact reason I didn’t tell you sooner. I’m sorry, you’ll just have to excuse my ‘elitism,’” I quoted, “where it comes to you. If for no other reason than I can’t stand the thought of you cleaning other people’s houses.” I dropped her hand to bring mine together to do the Mikey face. “Pretty please. With a cherry on top. Let this cleaning thing go. Everything will work itself out. I promise. You have to trust me.” I hit her with my best puppy dog eyes.
Her face melted. She nodded. I smiled.
“Good girl.” I grabbed her hand again and switched channels with the other.
“I just wanna do somethin’ to help,” she whined.
“I know. And I love you for it.” Pause to push pause on TV. I pulled her into my lap. “If you really wanna do something to help . . . you can get started on those sexual favors.” I pushed my hands under her T-shirt.
She smiled up at me. “That’s right. You made one fifty today. That sounds like enough to earn you a . . .”—pause to blush—“blow job.”
I barked out a laugh. “Did that pretty mouth of yours just say blowjob? ”
She nodded, turning pink all over. “So . . . how ‘bout it?” She got on her knees, reaching for me.
“Don’t have to ask me twice,” I said with the kind of grin that would follow that.
Next time, she would have to ask me three times.
It was the worst blowjob I’ve ever had. And the best. The worst because it was just so . . . bad . I was almost in shock. She was usually so good at everything. And those lips of hers were misleading. A lot of teeth happened in that three to four minutes of un-fun-ness. I almost had to fake an orgasm at one point just to make it stop. And a lot of enthusiastic trying went into that. How could I say anything? She came up smiling triumphantly, like she’d just performed open-heart surgery to save my life.
“How was it?” she asked, her eyes all lit up.
“Wow” was what I said.
She grinned at me, snuggling up under my arm. “ Really good?”
“Really, really good,” I replied.
I didn’t expect for her to pop back up when I said that, or else I would’ve closed my eyes for sure. A frown turned down that mouth that just tortured me.
“It wasn’t good?” She said this in the kind of voice a little girl uses when she’s dropped her ice cream on the sidewalk. She sat up, staring at me.
“It was .” I stared at her ear and pushed some hair behind it. I leaned over to kiss her, but she pushed me back.
“It was what?”
“It was . . . the best,” I tried again, focusing on the truth. Here’s why: Because during that painful demonstration of how much she cared for me, I realized something—she was untrained. No way she performed that kind of abuse on her lunatic ex-husband, or else he would’ve sent her to skills lab the next day. So that meant . . . I was her first. A natural grin erupted on my face.
She looked at me for a hard second, unsure. “Are you sure you’re not just sayin’ that?”
“Sure, I’m sure.” I pulled her back to me and spun her around, so that she was pinned beneath me. I relieved her of my T-shirt and started kissing her breasts, slowly working my way south. That finally shut her up. Why didn’t I think of this before?
Later on in bed, she turned to me. “Pete,” she whispered, and I popped my eyes back open. “Next time it’ll be better.”
I smiled. “I don’t see how that’s possible.”
She smiled back. “Oh. Just wait . . . you’ll see.” And then she rolled back over.
I laughed and scooted up next to her, throwing my arm around her and tucking her into me. Then lay in the dark, breathing in her honey-vanilla scent and marveling that Ranger had left her both unsullied and untrained. Could only mean one thing—her psychotic ex was actually some kind of in love with her.
I’d better work fast . . . he was a tenacious son-of-a-bitch. And his ex was, too.