20. The elephant in the room
Chapter 20
The elephant in the room
LETTIE
K ri keeps trying to calm me down. Ain’t she cute? Let’s give her an A for effort. Maybe I should have Janet Cash from Climax make one of those custom buttons she gives to her students. One that says: I did my best . I’ll pin it right on Kri’s chest.
Sheesh . Calm down?
Clearly, she’s new around here. That dog won’t hunt for me.
When she stepped out of the room earlier to call her boyfriend, I tried to follow her. Unfortunately, she sicced Black Widow on me. Must have had some silent communication or perhaps telepathy. Next thing I know, Marley is standing in my path and talking about asparagus. Yes, asparagus. The green vegetable that makes your pee smell funny. Bless her heart.
Her quirkiness is endearing but also very, very strange. Coming from the gal with conspiracy theories running through her head about llamas and square dancing, that’s really saying something.
Marley was cockblocking me from eavesdropping on Kri’s call. I guess maybe that would be... stalk blocking me. Get it? ‘Cause asparagus comes in stalks.
Ugh . Even my internal jokes are high-strung and trying too hard to appear normal—the personification of my mental state. Bless my heart.
Anyhoo . By the time Marley let me pass, Kri returned to the room, acting like everything was fine and dandy.
I don’t buy it. Not even if it were on sale. I’ve been around enough liars lately to know when I’m being sold snake oil.
And don’t you dare laugh at me. That wasn’t a joke. Although, I do see the humor in the concept of me catching onto deceit before being smacked upside the head with it.
Sure, it took me twenty-some-odd years to find the power switch for my bullshit detector. Nonetheless, it’s fired up and running just fine now. And the indicator lights on that sumbitch are flashing more than a DJ booth at an all-night rave.
Kri attempted to reassure me there was no reason to worry since the nightmare house was empty, according to Shep. It would seem the traffickers haven’t returned after Redleg busted in the other night to save me and the other girls.
Then what the fuck is he doing there?
Either she doesn’t want to tell me, or she flat out doesn’t know. I suspect the former. Which means Kri is no longer on the list of people I trust.
For the record, said list is as short as an ant’s penis. It’s also written in pencil on soggy paper about to tear down the middle.
Just for clarity, I was referring to the insect and not your family member. And now that I had that fun-filled thought, I’m wondering why your aunt would have a penis. Is it a strap-on? Is she a hermaphrodite? Is she transitioning? I need answers. Not saying I’ll judge her, no matter the responses. I just don’t need extra wonderings teeter-tottering inside my cracked-out head.
Brother of a butterless burnt biscuit.
Please tell me squirrels aren’t nocturnal because I need to put my brain to bed.
Stella cozies up beside me on the couch and runs her fingers through my hair gingerly. “Want me to draw a bath for you, Lettie bear?”
Perhaps she sensed my mental spiraling. Bless her for the distraction.
Canting my head at her, I let my eyelids slant into crescents—the shape, not the amazing dinner roll. “ Draw me a bath? Like with pen and paper? I thought you were banned from the art community after Kristin Poteet outed you for your paltry attempt at modern art with the whole tomato fiasco.”
She wobbles her head back and forth like she has a rubber neck. “Good to see your terrible humor is intact.” With a teasing harrumph, she folds her arms over her chest and pouts. “Not my fault that they don’t recognize genius when they see it.”
Stella put a partially shriveled tomato in a glass case and labeled it with a placard reading: Raisin. Mixed Medium.
The memory makes me chuckle, which then leads to a hiss of pain from my smarting rib cage. The meds Kri gave me earlier haven’t kicked in yet.
Grabbing my phone, I check the time to get an idea of how long until they start working. Right as I swipe the screen, a text comes in.
“It’s him,” I announce. A giddy wave of excitement dances through me, making my heels bounce and shoulders shimmy.
Freya and Marley whip their heads to face me, brows raised expectantly. Stella peers over my shoulder to read along while Kri paces behind me.
As soon as the words on the screen have permeated, I begin frantically tapping out my reply.
Freya jumps up. “ Well ?”
Stella answers for me, which is good because I’m not done typing. “He’s fine. One more stop to make, then they’ll be home.”
“Thank you,” I mutter to Stella, then hit send. “He also asked how I was.”
With her looking over my shoulder, I’m suddenly grateful that I didn’t save him in my new phone as Dominant Tomer , which I considered. Instead, I changed him to My Babe with a pink heart beside it.
No matter his legal name, he’ll still be my babe. And the holder of my heart.
Me:
I saw your little blip on Kri’s phone on the Redleg tracking thing. Why did you go to that house? What did you do? Are you okay?
Before he has a chance to read the text, let alone reply, I’m already typing the next one. And the one after that.
Me:
Kri told me you were going to see Tasha. Was she at that house again? Is that why you went there? Also, is she okay?
Me:
I love you. Please be careful. I’m fine, btw.
My Babe??:
. . .
Me:
What’s the other stop you’re making?
My Babe??:
. . .
Me:
Don’t forget Waffle House.
Stella playfully swats me on the shoulder with the back of her hand. “Man alive! Give him a chance to read one message before rapid-firing ten more at him.”
For whatever reason—probably because of who I am and how my brain works—I picture him dressed like Captain America with a shield, deflecting my text messages and sending them into the rafters.
His reply is exactly as I’d expect, considering the sender.
My Babe??:
I’ll explain when I get home. Everything is fine, so please don’t worry. We’re getting your food now. Glad you’re okay.
Me:
??heart emoji
Dragging my eyes off the screen, I maturely stick my tongue out at Stella and respond to her jab about my text tactics. “He’s used to it by now.”
Freya chimes in as she sits on the couch on my other side, creating a best friend sandwich with me as the filling. “Trust me, Stella. There is nothing Lettie could do to make that man bounce.” She lifts her wine, hovering the glass in front of her lips. “Forget drunk in love. He’s stoned for our girl. You should see the twitterpated look on his face when she sings at the club.”
My cheek twitches as a smile spreads.
Although his actions speak louder than words, I’d still like to hear him say he loves me.
Just not now.
It wouldn’t be for the right reasons. And since my bullshit detector is operational, I’d know it. The damn three-word phrase would be forever tainted if he said it while we’re going through all this shit.
Humming, Stella leans forward and grabs her drink from the coffee table.
Shit fire and save the matches . I know that sound.
Stella has three distinct hums.
The first is a hum of satisfaction, employed when something has gone her way. It’s melodic and flowy. Often heard when playing board games ‘cause she’s a damn cheater.
The second is a hum of confusion. It has a squeaky quality, and she busts it out when I’ve said something stupid and left her befuddled.
This is the third hum. Doubting skepticism.
Given the topic is Jam-err-Tomer, it’s a safe assumption she’s not buying Freya’s glowing endorsement.
It’d be smart to pretend everything is hunky dory.
Regretfully, I rarely do the intelligent thing. Why ruin my streak?
Feels safer to ration my dwindling supply of avoidance for dealings with Tomer. He needs it more than Stella does.
I set down my phone and face my friend. “You good, Stella?” There’s no venom in my tone. It isn’t my style to be huffy at someone for having an opinion.
“Of course I am,” she replies unconvincingly, flashing a tight smile.
My newly functional bullshit meter blasts a warning signal loud enough to rattle the windows.
For a second, I waver, teetering between two paths.
Do I let it go or face it?
Undoubtedly, if I remain quiet, her concerns will pass in a matter of minutes. After all, she’s in Florida to support me, not create trouble. If I tell her to button it up, she’d do it faster than a knife fight in a phone booth.
The thing is, though, I don’t want to push this aside the way I have a dozen other things this week.
I need a single moment to feel strong.
Just one.
Stella is my safe space. Always has been.
No matter what I end up saying to her, she’ll be able to handle it. In turn, she can handle me without breaking either of us in the process.
As much as I’d love to say that a confrontation with my boyfriend wouldn’t leave us shattered, I can’t. We’re both barely hanging on. Passing our rapidly depleting cup of strength back and forth, spilling the contents a little bit with each hand-off. One more time and the cup could end up empty.
The same can’t be said about Stella.
Not only is she a badass, she isn’t nearly as traumatized as Tomer has been this week. She didn’t see me semi-catatonic. Didn’t carry me out of hell, half naked and barely able to stand. Hasn’t had to rub salve on my burns or wonder cream on my welts. She didn’t have to arrange for me to have an in-home STI screening because I’m too scared to go to the hospital. She hasn’t had to be my constant shadow, day and night.
Stella is strong enough for whatever this discussion will entail. And I need a single moment to feel strong too. To not cower.
And to be the old Lettie.
I lower my chin, looking at her from under my brow. “Stella, out with it.”
She hems and haws for a couple of seconds, nibbling her lip and avoiding my gaze. “Nothin’s wrong.”
I catch Marley’s attention. “Would you mind giving us a moment, please?” I look over my shoulder at Kri and nod, indicating the same.
Kri tips her head toward the door while glancing at her coworker. “We’ll be right outside.”
Freya stiffens. “Should I step out too?”
“Nope. You should stay.”
She’s probably biting her tongue the same way Stella has been.
Slack-jawed, Stella watches the guards stride from the room. “Lettie, I done told ya, there ain’t nothin’ to talk about.”
Liar.
The sudden re-emergence of her Southern twang is proof of her heated emotions.
I let another huge wave of oxygen fill my lungs to fortify my confidence. “Just giving us a little privacy so that you can say whatever it is you’re holding back about my boyfriend.”
“Seriously, Lettie. It ain’t a big deal. Squash it.” She looks past me at Freya, nodding and widening her eyes as if encouraging her to join in.
Right away, my dear roomie piles on. “Lettie, let’s just enjoy the evening. We’re here to cheer you up. If you’re bored with cards, we could play something else. Got any dice? Dominoes?”
I tap her lower thigh. “I appreciate that, Freya.” Turning to Stella, I flash my most brilliant smile, bat my lashes, and inject cheeriness into my tone. “You’ve been holding your tongue all night. And I’d rather you not chip a filling from all that unsavory teeth grinding.”
Stella glances toward the front door where Marley and Kri have exited, then shoots her eyes toward the ceiling, holding them there for the count of five.
Here we go.
Once she realizes I’m not backing down, she lets her unaffected mask fade. “I don’t want to alarm anyone, but there’s a giant fucking purple elephant in the room, and apparently, our plan is to ignore it. For the record, that approach is fine by me.” She puts her palms out in front of her. “I do not need to have this discussion now. I’m here for you, Lettie. I’m a million percent fine with sweepin’ it under the rug for a day, a week, a year, or forever.”
I lean forward. “But?”
Holding my eyes, she grumbles, “You stubborn fool. I’m telling you to let this one go.”
My gaze doesn’t falter. Not even a blink.
Reeking of frustration, she flails both hands to the sides. “Fine. You want to know what I’m thinking, then here it is. What the fuck? Seriously, what in the actual fried fuck? A week ago, you were pitchin’ a duck fit because he wouldn’t talk about his job or friends. You didn’t even know where he worked. Correct?” She doesn’t wait for my response, just rushes on. “And now, he’s cosplaying as The Punisher . We’ve got four freaking armed bodyguards here while he’s running around hell’s half acre with his hot friend like Batman and Robin , doing what? Hunting human traffickers? How does he go from IT geek to Liam Neeson overnight? For that matter, how the hell did he rescue you from that place? Am I the only one who thinks this makes less sense than a tattoo parlor at a convent?”
Tucking my lips inside my mouth, I shift my gaze to Freya. She nods at me, then lowers her eyes to her lap, basically telegraphing: Yeah, what she said .
Now that Stella’s gotten all that off her chest, she softly adds, “And again, you do not need to respond to my ramblings. Not now or ever. I only word vomited all that ‘cause you weren’t gonna drop it until I did. Now you know what I was thinkin’. Hope you’re happy.” She dips her chin like it’s punctuation. “I’m your best friend no matter what. I’m here for you. I’m not leaving, and I’ll support you with every beat of my black heart. End of story.”
I unclasp my hands and place one on Freya’s thigh and the other on Stella’s, my gaze ping-ponging between them. “I hear you, Stella. Nothing you said is incorrect. Yes, it’s bizarre. No, this ain’t normal. Yes, I have plenty of questions yet to be addressed with him.”
My eyelids flutter shut as I search for the words to explain what I don’t even understand myself. “Apparently, he was hiding details about his profession because he was fearful that I would...” The words trail off since I don’t know what he was afraid of, so I divert my focus to what I do know to be true. “He works for a security company with other former military special ops people. They have some type of relationship with the police. He knew the detectives who came here quite well.” I wave toward the door. “Perhaps that’s why he kept it confidential. I don’t know yet. In light of all that happened to me, we decided to set it aside for the time being.”
“You mean he decided,” Stella incorrectly surmises.
I raise my pointer finger in objection. “ No . He was ready to tell me everything, but I stopped him. And when we spoke about it, it was obvious that hiding everything has been hurting him. Although I don’t know all the reasoning, I believe he had good intentions.”
Pausing, I rub my palms along my thighs, enjoying the buttery soft feel of my leggings. “With all that I’ve gone through, I’m not emotionally able to deal with relationship revelations. I need him. He’s been here for me with every breath. Every heartbeat. For now , I’m okay knowing that his job is not what I thought it was. But it doesn’t change how he feels about me. That’s what matters most. Sure, he might be more dangerous than I thought, but he’s not a bad guy. If he didn’t have those mystery skills, I’d probably be...” My throat thickens, and the words get stuck, but I push them out. “I’d be stuck in that house still. Fifteen other girls would be too. So if he happens to be running around like Batman or Hellboy or whoever you said, then so be it. He wants to help the cops catch the bad guys. It seems he has the skills to do it. I’m not gonna stop him.”
Stella scoots closer and wraps her arm around me. “Shit, baby. This is why I didn’t want to talk about it. Now you’re upset. I was out of line. It isn’t my place to question your relationship with him. I’m so sorry, Lettie bear.”
Freya runs her hand over my forearm and clasps my hand in a silent show of support.
“No, it’s fine.” I sniffle. “Honestly, I’m glad you asked because now the stupid elephant can get the hell out. I don’t know about you, but I don’t wanna share my waffles with it.”
On my right, Freya offers a charity chuckle at my sub-par joke. Stella just groans since she’s never one to let me off the hook. Not even with my current train wreck status.
I nudge her shoulder with mine. “I love you both. Thanks for being here to support me through this.”
“Absolutely, Lettie.” Freya squeezes my hand once more before releasing it. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad he’s a badass. He saved you. It’s just like you said... imagine if he’d just been Joe Computer Geek and not Liam Hemsworth.”
“Neeson,” Stella corrects.
“Whatever. One of the Liams,” Freya huffs and sticks out her tongue at Stella.
“Keep sticking that thing out, and Ima do something with it,” my bestie warns, a flirty glint in her eye.
A giggle dances up my chest and out my mouth.
I knew it.
Stella releases her hold on me to throw back the rest of her wine. “It’s always the quiet ones.”
“Truth,” Freya tosses.
“Huh?” I look from one to the other, my head on a swivel. “What’s always the quiet ones?”
Stella’s lip quirks. “The quieter the man, the more secrets. And the kinkier.”
Freya raises her glass. “There it is. I know that’s right, girl.”
I cross my arms and huff. “Oh for heaven’s sake. Stop it. He’s not that kinky.”
Stella makes a half-ass attempt to hold back her snort. “Sure, Lettie. Whatever you say, snookums.”
Glancing at Freya, I ask, “Do you agree with her?”
She doesn’t have time to answer before Stella jumps back in. “Lettie, didn’t you tell me he was willing to wear a strap-on so he could fuck your ass and your vagina at the same time? That’s pretty kinky.”
“I told you that in confidence,” I whisper-shriek, my cheeks instantly warming.
With her mouth hovering over her wineglass, Freya’s giggle turns into a hiccup. “Oh please, Lettie. That doesn’t surprise me one bit. He’s a dungeon master at Bask, for fuck’s sake. Plus, you aren’t exactly quiet when he comes over. Of course I think he’s kinky. But you are too. So it’s kind of perfect.”
My shyness is quickly replaced with something resembling... pride ? No, that can’t be right.
“You think I’m kinky?” I ask her.
She sets down her glass to count off on her fingers. “Shall we review a list of the things you’ve shared with me over the last few months?”
I start to say no, but she’s already launching into her list.
“Hair pulling and hand necklaces. Blindfolds and cum shots.”
Stella chimes in, “Mutual masturbation.”
Freya nods animatedly. “You like to watch and be watched. You’re a rope bottom.”
Back to Stella. “You love spanking, paddling, toys, and bondage.”
A big chuckle out of Freya turns into another hiccup. She should lay off the sauce. “You let him record you having sex and banged him while you watched it back. You?—”
Stella flings her hand between us like she’s a traffic cop. “She did what ?” Her jaw falls to her chest so dramatically that I worry she’s going to need to see a doctor to return it to its rightful state.
Oh yeah. I never told her about Netflix and Chill night.
Tomer and I had some damn good sex knowing it was being recorded. Mmm . And how he fingered me when we watched it back.
Dang . I’m getting worked up again.
“Lettie!” Stella grabs my arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t get a chance because it happened right before... well, it was a week ago.”
The follow-up questions fill Stella’s mouth until she’s about to burst. Luckily, I’m saved by the front door opening and the smell of greasy food filling the air.
“We’re back,” Tomer announces, holding up two large bags.
“Yay!” I squeal in delight, clapping and bounding from the couch.
He’s safe. He’s back. And he brought food. The trifecta of excellence.
Kri’s boyfriend is behind Tomer, carrying a few bags of his own. Kri and Marley stick their heads in the doorway, brows raised in question.
I wave them inside since girl talk is over. “I’m so relieved you made it home safely, babe.” I glance at Freya and Stella. “Girls, it’s late-night pig out time.”
As I approach, I scan both men from head to toe. Neither looks any worse for the wear.
It doesn’t dawn on me until I’m about two steps away from them that I’m not startled or fearful of the other man’s presence in the house. Not one bit.
Hmm.
Perhaps it’s because of how hungry I am. Or maybe it’s knowing I have my friends with me. Whatever the cause of my burgeoning confidence doesn’t matter. It’s nice to almost feel normal.
My handsome man greets me with a chaste kiss. “You good, sugar?”
“Yep.” Wearing a genuine smile emanating from deep inside me, I grasp at a bag.
He holds them out of my reach. “Ah-ah-ah. I got it.”
As he brushes past me, I’m hit with a whiff of... campfire smoke.
Led by my nose, I trail behind him, sniffing as I go.
Yep. That’s smoke. What the hell?
While staying close to Tomer, I discreetly try to get a whiff of Shep. I don’t smell anything coming from him other than greasy hash browns.
Curiosity settles into my bones, but I quash it for now. Food first. Twenty questions later.
They’re called priorities. Look them up.
Everyone gathers in the kitchen as the guys pop open takeout containers. I attempt to grab a stack of plates but my man—let’s call him Smoky Bear—jumps in front of me, beating me to the cupboard.
“I got it, sweetness. Why don’t you grab some silverware instead?”
A tiny prick of irritation sours my mood until I realize he isn’t doing it because I’m incapable or to baby me. He’s merely saving me the pain from my bruised ribs. Reaching is not so fun for me these days.
Instead of being ticked that he’s coddling me, my cheeks are getting chapped that he’s better at taking care of me than I am. How does he do that? Am I truly that inept?
I blink off my unsavory thoughts when Stella sidles up beside me. Her expression is warmhearted as she extends one arm, inviting me in for a side hug. Once she realized that full hugs sort of hurt me, she stopped going for those which I appreciate and hate simultaneously.
She whispers, “You really love him, don’t you?”
Opening the silverware drawer, I crinkle my nose at her. “Duh. Did you think I was pullin’ your leg about that?”
She chuckles quietly while helping me grab an assortment of cutlery. “No, Lettie. It’s not that.” Her chest rises with a deep inhale as her gaze bounces between him and me. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a bitch, but?—”
Seizing the joke opportunity as only a best friend can, I interject, “Some traits just shine through no matter how hard you try to hide them, doll face.”
Baring her teeth at me, she hisses like a rabid goth raccoon. Considering her gobs of dark eye makeup have run today from our on-again, off-again waterworks, it’s a fitting description.
“Anyhow, as I was sayin’ before you decided to impugn my upstanding character,” she darkens her glare at me in jest, “before today, I knew that you believed you loved him. But I didn’t know if it was a crush or puppy love. I may have only seen you two together for a few hours, but I think it’s real. And despite the horrific circumstances, I’m glad to finally meet him. It’s nice to see you in love. I think he loves you too.”
“Thank you,” I respond without a lick of teasing in my tone. “That means a lot.” My voice clogs with those pesky emotions.
I glance at my man, who’s pouring me a glass of sweet tea and setting it at the table in my usual spot. The one right beside him. On his left. Closest to his heart.
In a hush, “When are we pestering him to find out what they did tonight?”
A groan gets caught in my throat. “Soon, but maybe not now. Or is now a good time? Should I wait until everyone leaves? I don’t know the answer here. Decisions are like... really hard.”
Stella folds her lower lip down and presses her teeth together in a comical cringe. “Pretty sure my advice doesn’t hold water in a situation like this. Relationships. Not my jam. If you want help deciding what to sing for the Peach Pie Festival, I’m your gal. I also know twenty-six euphemisms for pussy. And thirty-two for penis. Interrogating your boyfriend about his little vigilante mission is a bit out of my wheelhouse.”
She grabs a clean cup from the dish drainer and starts toward the table where everybody is congregating. After one step, she drops back and quietly adds, “Whatever you decide, perhaps start with why he smells like lighter fluid.”
Shit . Guess I wasn’t wrong about the fire theory.
Don’t judge me for the decision I’m about to make. K? Thanks.
“Stella Jean, I’ll ask him later. Let’s just enjoy the pig-out.”
I’ll pretend it was an innocent bonfire while I eat gobs of greasy, cheesy food.
And yet, my thoughts immediately careen off course.
Don’t they burn bodies to destroy evidence?
Not sure which figurative they I’m referring to. You know... people who kill for various reasons. Some are probably honest reasons. Right? And if so, then getting rid of evidence seems like a good thing. Let’s hope they collected the teeth. Otherwise, it’s all for nothing because that shit always has a way of becoming evidence. According to Hollywood.
Jeez . I’ve done taken the express train to mental chaos. Toot toot .