8. Trina
EIGHT
TRINA
Crash hesitates for half a moment before he crushes his body against mine. Our lips lock and we both inhale at the same time. The scorching heat through his cotton shirt consumes me. We push against each other hungrily. He has to bend down to keep kissing me— I was the one who pulled him by the collar, which I’m still twisting in my hand.
His lips align with mine, demanding more. Sucking on my lower lip while he…while he… Oh!
He gropes me, squeezing my butt in time with his kisses. Shaping it with his big hands. Making it soft, making it firm, making it shake, just touching it, worshipping it. So many things in a kiss that I never expected. I want it all.
I let go of his shirt and wrap my arms around his neck, not wanting this to end. He shoves me against the car with another bear-like growl, his touch and kiss becoming rougher.
This is unreal. I love him. I love Crash. This makes no sense at all. He said those horrible things to me and it only made this sinful feeling burn hotter. One hand cups my breast and I realize there’s no limit to this pleasure. Everything he does to me is incredible.
“Trina,” he grunts, both hands squeezing my titties over the hoodie. My nipples are stiff and sensitive. He seems to know that. He knows exactly what to do. He presses me against the car, wedging me against his hard thigh. Like he wants something more…He wants it all.
I think about the porn movie I saw in the motel.
“Trina — ah, hell…”
No!
Don’t stop. Don’t end it.
But it has to end.
“Wait,” I whisper.
With a growl he pushes me against the Challenger, and starts shoving his hand up under the hoodie. His palms cup and squeeze my tits over the bra. Then they start fighting with the bra. Like he wants to rip it off.
The tinkling bell of the diner door wakes me up. People are coming out of Applebee’s.
“Crash!” I gasp. “Wait! Stop.”
He stops immediately and pushes away from me. “Fuck,” he hisses. “Nah, nah. Enough. Enough.”
I don’t know what to say.
His chest heaves as he stares down at me in what can only be shock and horror. I don’t know who he’s talking to— me, or himself— when he says, “No. No. ”
I feel like a dazed moth that just pounded itself against a burning lamp. I can’t think about anything but the urge to throw myself on him again.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I still don’t know what to say. I am ashamed of myself. Crash will never look at me the same again. I’ve stained my virtue eternally.
I am a slut. A hypocrite.
Because the truth is, I wish he didn’t stop. I still want him to kiss me. To touch me. I don’t want to feel this way— I want to feel like I’m spinning through earth and heaven with his arms around me.
“Trin, it’s not real.” He’s breathing even harder than me. His fists open and close as if he wants to touch me again.
Or hit something.
“Babygirl, it’s not real.”
“What do you mean?” I can barely breathe.
“These feelings. It’s natural— you just got out of lockup. You want to go wild, experiment— but this is wrong. Fuck, what do you take me for?!”
“I know it was sinful — ”
“To hell with that!” He roars.
I bite my lip.
“Look,” he says in a more controlled voice. His arms come up, like he wants to put them around me again. But then they fall. He’s better at controlling himself than I am. “It’s just principle. It’s not that I don’t want— that I haven’t thought about it.” He curses. “I’m trying to do the right thing here, Trin, Jesus.”
“I’m sorry for slapping you.”
“It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry for…for throwing myself at you. I didn’t mean to be so— so— forward with myself. It was wrong.”
He shakes his head. “Trina, Trina…You’re innocent.”
You like that, don’t you? Slut. Bring those fucking tits over here…
I’m not. Not anymore.
I stare at his lips as they say, “Let’s just pretend it never happened.”
Humiliation stings.
“What if I don’t care?” I blurt.
“You’re confused,” he says harshly. “It’s understandable. They never let you do shit. They never told you shit. You ain’t experienced; you’re a babe in the woods. I ain’t the type to take advantage, even for one pretty as you. Besides, we’ve had some to drink. It’s all fucked up, understand?”
I’m not that drunk.
“Don’t trust how you feel,” he says.
“You don’t know how I feel,” I mumble. But he’s painfully right.
And painfully wrong.
I’ve never felt this way about anybody. It’s not just the whole messed up situation. He thinks this is like Stockholm Syndrome or something. But I know it’s not just that. It’s his sense of humor, the way we can talk about anything, the way he doesn’t judge me— too much— for being the way I am. He likes to be around me, I know he does. And I feel the same. How can I just let go of that?
“You wanted it too,” I accuse suddenly. “Didn’t you?”
His eyes narrow. “Get in the vehicle.”
The pain of rejection is like a slap in the face.
“Maybe that’s the reason she’s on drugs,” I say wildly. “Your wife. Because you’re not giving it to her like a man! Maybe— maybe you’re a homosexual.”
Crash’s eyes burn with fury. “Hold that venom, or I swear to God you can walk your ass to Los Angeles,” he says in a voice that shuts me up right away. He opens my door and I get in.
We don’t speak for the whole drive back.
Back at the motel Crash lets me take the bed and sleeps on the floor with nothing, not even a pillow.
“Your back will hurt,” I tell him.
“It’s fine.”
Actually, it’s very awkward. I huddle under the blankets. Visions flash behind my eyes of our heated kiss, but his hurtful words play over and over in my mind.
Walk your ass to Los Angeles. Hold that venom.
Too innocent. He meant to say, too immature.
I deserved that. My behavior was unacceptable. I forced him to kiss me, not the other way around. I said terrible things to him.
It’s late— almost midnight. I have no idea what will happen tomorrow. He needs to go back to Virginia, but where does that leave me? We never came to an agreement about that.
If little Trina has no money and no ID, how many cocks does she have to suck to get out of Oklahoma ?
Crash’s phone rings; he gets up and goes into the bathroom. I hear him talking quietly with somebody, then he comes back out and goes back to the floor.
My stomach turns over.
I climb out of bed and bolt to the bathroom. I lock the door and turn on the tap so Crash doesn’t hear me puking into the toilet. After, I feel a lot better. I brush my teeth and step out, nearly running into the wall-sized man sharing the room with me.
“You alright?” He asks gently.
“I’m never drinking again,” I tell him.
“Good,” he says. He runs a towel under hot water and wipes down my face and neck.
“Thanks.”
“Sure.”
We go back to the room. I can only see him in silhouette through the light in the window. Something occurred to me as I was throwing up, and I want to run it by him.
“I’ve been thinking,” I tell him.
“Dear God.”
“Very funny. Can you turn on the light?”
He clicks on the lamp and I go to my secret spot where I keep my purse. I slowly reveal my treasures, diamonds and gold. Crash makes a low whistle.
“I was going to pawn these for some money,” I tell him. “You can take what you want right now, or bring me to the pawn shop to get cash tomorrow. I think I saw one when we drove in.”
“Trina.”
“They’re real. Like the watch. I can buy a bus ticket to California, and you can take some money for yourself, in exchange for what you’ve done for me.”
“You were walking around with all this the whole time? Why not just cash?”
“It was the only thing I could take from the house,” I reply. “I don’t even have a bank account.”
He carefully pulls out the diamond necklace. It’s a rose in 22kt gold.
Crash rests the pendant against my throat, watching the diamond sparkle against my skin. His touch is warm. Like always.
“Who was that on the phone?” I ask.
“My sister,” he answers, voice rough. “She’s got Ruby away from Jess. That’ll give me time to do what I’m supposed to do out here.”
“Which is what?”
I’m hoping since I was honest with him about the jewelry he’ll be honest with me about why he came to Oklahoma.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “And keep your jewels.”
Something illegal…I hope it’s not murder, or stealing… Once again it hits me I really don’t know much about Crash at all. What if I’m getting tied up in something nefarious? What if I went to jail because of him?
“Don’t worry,” he says, reading my thoughts. “It’s nothing you’d get involved with.”
“Okay.” That doesn’t make me feel better, but I also know Crash wouldn’t let me get hurt.
“I’ve been thinking, too, Trina. You’ll stay here a couple days while I go handle…stuff. Try to get in touch with your grandmother. I should be back in five days.”
Five days.
A lot can happen in five days.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“I can’t tell you that.”
“But you’ll come back, right?” I bite my lip, realizing how pathetic I sound. I need to find a way ahead, with or without Crash.
“Nevermind. I’m not your responsibility— I will figure it out,” I say quickly.
“I swear I’m coming right back. Don’t ride off into the sunset just yet.”
“Well, don’t get hurt.”
“I won’t.” He leans back on the bed. “But if I’m not back in five days, you should get a move on without me. I’ll make sure you can. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’m worn as a wet saddle,” he grunts. “How do you feel?”
“Better ‘cause I threw up,” I say honestly.
“Can you dig those paws into my back a little?”
“A massage? Okay.”
He turns on his stomach and I run my hands under his shirt. His skin is smooth, his muscles full and hard…perfect. Until I get to his shoulders. I stop.
“Shrapnel,” he says.
I move my fingers over a deeper wound. “What about that?”
“Fight.”
“And that?”
“Belt.”
“ Belt ?”
“I had a real interesting childhood. Go lower…to the left…Yeah…Sweet Jesus.”
His hair is so soft. I remember I’m supposed to be massaging his back, not running my hands through his curls. But he doesn’t say anything when I do. Until he says gruffly, “I’m sorry for earlier.”
“It’s alright. I started it.”
“I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”
“I was more out of pocket,” I admit, then ask, “What do you mean by ‘interesting’?”
“Dad was a cheater. Gave my mother issues,” he replies, voice muffled by the mattress. “All that TV stuff.”
“I know how you feel.”
“Bastards,” he grunts. “Glad you got away from ‘em, Trina.
I’m sitting on his back…actually, I’m sitting on his butt.
Which is very firm.
I remember the man from the porn movie had a butt like that. I try to put the thought out of my head, but it lingers, especially with me basically straddling Crash. My private parts are resting directly on top of him.
“Do you think it was a sin, what we did earlier?” I ask.
“Nothing done from a pure heart can be a sin,” he says quietly.
“What about your marriage? I don’t want to violate that.”
“Hell, that was probably a sin to begin with. Christ, Trin. Take it up with the Man upstairs, I don’t know a damned thing and I’m going to hell anyway.”
“You’re not.”
“I am,” he says with resigned assurance.
I climb off his back. He’s so much bigger than me it’s like he’s another species. But giant as he is, I feel so safe with him, and he makes my body feel right. I feel like a woman. Not a scared little girl trying to hide.
I hear his deep breathing, feel his body so close to me on this mattress. I know I should just be quiet, lie here, and go back to sleep.
“Can I sleep here?” Crash asks. “The floor is jacking up my back.”
“Okay,” I say.
Yes. Yes.
“We’ll leave room for Jesus,” he says, throwing a pillow between us. I fight the urge to kick it to the floor.
Go to sleep. Leave him alone.
“Do you miss it?” I ask.
“Miss what?”
“Doing what a man does.”
“You and these questions. Of course I miss it.”
“Why are you celibate? What’s the reason?”
He doesn’t answer for a long time, making me think he’s gone to sleep. Then suddenly he says, “I was attracted to Zacky’s wife. Jess. My wife.”
“Is that a…bad thing? She’s your wife.” I hate her.
“I was attracted to her while she was married to Zacky,” he says slowly.
“Oh.”
“I knew it was wrong, of course. She was my type. Blonde, pretty…big tits. Kind of an airhead.”
“Hmph.”
“Yeah, I know. I was an idiot.”
“Did you have an affair ?” I have to force the words out. If he did, I can’t look at him the same again.
To my relief he says, “No. We never got physical, ever. But from the moment I first saw her…I would picture her, every time I was alone…I would…ah.” His voice gets rougher and full of self- hatred. “I’d fantasize about her. She’d call me up sometimes. I think she knew. Women know these things. She’d flirt with me, a little. Bitch about Zacky. When he died, and I agreed to marry her, take care of Ruby…it weren’t just from the goodness of my heart. It was lust, some of it. Pure and simple.”
“So what happened?”
“For one thing she was an addict, and then she turned out to be a terrible mother to Ruby which was a huge turnoff. I might have seen it sooner if I wasn’t blinded by lust.” He pauses. “I coveted Zacky. He had a rich family, two parents, army decorated. I never wished him harm, but maybe my jealousy…maybe that cursed him somehow. I don’t know.”
I shut my eyes and wait for him to fall asleep. I hold back my last question with all my strength. Between my legs feels warm and juicy. I remember him squeezing on my titties. Blonde, pretty…big tits.
He likes that. And I bet mine are bigger than hers.
God help me. Save me. I’m drowning in sin.
My hand creeps lower. I move so, so slowly. I run my fingers under the waistband of the sweatpants. Yes , says my body.
Under my panties.
Yes. Lower. Lower.
“Crash?” I whisper.
“Mm.”
“Good night.”
“Good night, darlin’.”