20
20
DO AS I SAY, NOT AS I DO
“I ’m sorry!” I wailed as Pete buckled me in without a word.
As soon as he shut my door, I yanked the cash stuffed in my back pockets and stashed it under my seat. As soon as he got in, he slammed his door so hard my window rattled. He followed that up by slamming his hand on the steering wheel.
“ Jesus, Kate! Do you have a death wish?”
“No! I was just tryin’ to get you a new ID.”
He threw his head back and covered his face with his hands. Deep breathed in a couple of times. Swiped his hand over his mouth. He turned and seared me with a hard stare. “Did he touch you?”
I shook my head.
“Say it out loud, Kate. Sometimes you nod through things you don’t want to talk about.”
“No, um held my hand a little and put his arm around my shoulder. B-b-but that was only when his friends were around,” I squeaked out. “He, um, mostly just wanted to take my picture.”
He glared at me so hard I thought I would shrivel from it. “Do you have any idea how goddamned lucky you are? For so many reasons.” Pause for me to nod my head. “Because if he would’ve touched a hair on your head . . .” Pause to modulate his voice. “I would’ve had to have gone up there and beat his ass . . . and who knows if you could’ve stopped me before I put him out, or somebody called the cops.”
I might’ve been stupid all night, but I was smart enough to know to remain mute about the hair-yanking mini assault I was the beneficiary of half an hour ago.
“I said I was sorry, Pete. I just did the same thing you did for me.”
“No, you didn’t!” he roared, throwing the gear into drive and gunning off down the street. “You snuck off to a party, late at night, with a stranger, after lying to me about your whereabouts.”
I slumped down in my seat.
“Look at you!” he snarled.
I snapped back up. Then wished I hadn’t because, apparently, I just displayed exhibits A and Bs.
“You’re all made up to attract attention. Painted face, painted on jeans. And your tits are practically slicing through the fabric of that fucking navy top your lunatic ex-husband bought for you.” I bowed my head under the weight of his vicious words, but Pete didn’t let up. “And you’re drunk!”
Gah! He was yelling at me like my lunatic husband did. “I am not drunk!”
“Then why did you throw up, party girl?”
“I . . .” Shouldn’t have told him that.
“Am drunk,” he finished for me.
“I am not drunk!” I fired back. “I think he drugged me.”
Screeeeeeeeech! Pete slammed on the breaks, thereby skidding us a good fifty-heart-pounding feet on a major street. I would’ve flown forward except for the hard hand thrown across exhibit Bs. Then my head snapped back from the propulsion of being thrown back the other way as he threw the Jeep in reverse. He backed up going about fifty and then swerved back around, so we were facing the opposite direction. Like my head wasn’t already spinning enough.
“Pete!” I breathed out. “Whatareyoudoin’?” Like I didn’t know.
“I’m going back there and beating his ass!”
Dear God. Could not have that. “Pete! Stop! Maybe he didn’t? I was feelin’ kinda sick at my stomach earlier anyway.”
“Guilt tends to do that to a person,” he bit out.
“Besides . . . I was gonna do it to him too. He just got around to it first because I kinda chickened out.”
He glared at me so long I almost thought I should take the wheel. Finally, he shook his head at me and faced forward again, driving a little faster than necessary for someone who needed to not get stopped by the cops.
“Pete! I’m beggin’ you! Please turn the Jeep around!”
“So now I know why you threw up.” He flicked his eyes over at me. “Now why were you crying?”
I averted my eyes out the window, focusing on the lights from closed restaurants and shopping centers blurring neon as we whizzed by.
Pete’s sharp voice cut through the silence. “When you called me and sobbed out a brief version of where you were and what you’d been up to, you failed to tell me why you were so upset.”
“I-just, yunno . . .”
“No, I don’t know, Kate. And I don’t know how far you were prepared to go to get what you think I need.”
“I—”
“Another difference between what I did and what you did was that a girl’s IDs are usually kept in her purse . But a guy’s are usually kept in a wallet. In a pocket. So again, I ask you—how far were you willing to go to get what you thought I needed? Huh?” He hand-banged the steering wheel again.
I nearly peed my tight white pants.
“Because you only said he didn’t touch you,” Pete resumed hotly, “except for some hand-holding. What about you, spy girl? Maybe I should ask if you touched him ?” His hands gripped the wheel so hard his knuckle bones popped out.
I shook my head. “N-n-nothing. I swear, Pete! It was an epic failure. You’re right. I didn’t think that far in advance. I thought . . . I thought the guy would get really drunk and I guess . . . maybe pass out or somethin’? While he was sleepin’ I thought I’d just sneak it out of his jeans and make my escape. But it didn’t really work out that way,” I finished lamely.
Pete unclenched his jaw to say, “It usually doesn’t.” Some time passed while he drove, but I noticed he slowed down some. “So why were you crying?”
“Just, yunno . . . I think b-b-because I failed and I lied to you.” I started sniffling again. “And I felt so-so guilty!” And my mark wouldn’t take me home. And he stole my phone. And I got assaulted trying to leave. And I found some porno pics. And I stole some dirty money. And I beat up a bad guy. And I don’t even feel bad about it.
He shook his head at me boo-hooing in my seat.
“Pete, I’m so very sorry I deceived you. I learned my lesson. Please just take me home. I just wanna pretend like this whole night never happened.”
He searched my face a second, then expelled some hard air. He finally flipped a U-turn at the next light, even though there was a sign right there saying not to do it. I wouldn’t say he was exactly using good judgment tonight either, although I didn’t say so.
Pete remained tight-lipped the rest of the ride home. I didn’t wait for him to come get me from the passenger side, needing some distance from his white-hot anger. He didn’t come and get me anyway, and didn’t wait for me at the banister before stomping up the stairs. I followed and paused at the landing to allow him to let me in with his key. The kind of slam followed this exchange that you would expect from someone with that kind of face.
“Where’s your backpack?” he asked, rounding on me once again.
“I left it at the party,” I replied in my little-girl voice.
He shook his head at me.
I covered my face with my hands. “I know. I know. I’m the worst spy ever!”
Pete had no comeback for that, throwing his keys and cell on the island and stalking into the kitchen. He wrenched open the fridge and plucked a beer. I held up the wall, watching him pop the cap and take a long, angry swig. Unable to take it anymore, I made my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Afterwards, I took a long, hot shower to wash all the ickies off. When I came out, I had a wad of cashmere bundled in my hands. I couldn’t launder it with the rest of our clothes, and more importantly, I didn’t want to leave a reminder on the floor. I didn’t get hit with a very warm welcome—more of a cold shoulder you could say. Pete perched on one of the stools facing the other way with a new bottle of beer. I knew this because he was spinning the first one on the island.
Suddenly, he spun around to face me, and his face darkened when he saw what was wadded up in my hands. I had the urge to hide it behind my back but didn’t, and he didn’t say anything. He just got up and dumped the rest of his beer down the sink. I heard the chink of bottle against bottle as he chunked them into the recycling bin. Then, a moment later, angry brushing coming from the bathroom.
I remembered this kind of icy behavior from him in Clovis, after I’d asked him to leave me alone. It caused upheaval in my stomach and heart-sickness then; it caused upheaval in my stomach and heart-sickness now.
Usually, I just pulled on one of Pete’s tees and climbed in bed, but tonight I was hiding out in the closet, wondering what could pass for pajamas. Like Eve, when she had to go face Adam after what she’d done, I was in the mood to cover myself. I finally pulled on a pair of sweats, molding on the floor, and one of my workout tank-tops.
When I emerged from my hideout, Pete was on the couch, staring morosely at the TV. I was so glad he was still up because I couldn’t bear the thought of going to bed with him when he was this mad at me. My stomach lurched when he didn’t glance up as I approached. I sat next to him, remembering how just this afternoon we were in this same position, only now instead of being frosty, you could actually measure his anger quotient in megawatts.
“Pete . . . I—”
“I really don’t want to hear it, Kate.” He clicked off the TV, stood up, and stalked to bed, leaving me on the couch next to the hole he burned into the upholstery. For some odd reason, he left the lights on, even though it was past one thirty in the morning. Unfinished business?
I got up, in desperate mode. “Pete, please. I’m so sorry. Okay?”
“That’s what you said today when you informed me you forgot to mention you had to babysit tonight.” Silent pause to let everything that was obvious and didn’t need to be said to sink in. “ I’m sorry, Kate—sorry’s not enough to cover for putting yourself in unnecessary danger to get someone’s driver’s license. Not to mention the degree in which you went to dupe me.” He yanked off his shirt and threw it at me.
I caught it to me, then went to him and threw myself at his mercy by throwing my arms around him. He was a burning man in my arms. “Pete, I’m sorry I duped you but I knew you wouldn’t let me go. And I wanted to get that ID for you. And I can handle myself now; I’m a trained fighter, just like you.”
He snorted and singed some of my eyebrows off before breaking loose from my death grip.
“Pete . . . I was just tryin’ to help you.”
“By lying and putting yourself in jeopardy. Goddammit!” He slammed the wall, rattling the vintage surfer pic hanging above the bed. What if something would’ve happened? I didn’t even know where you were because you deceived me!” He said this like I was the lowest down person ever.
“ You deceived me with Brunette-Number-Two!” I shot back. “I saw the way she looked at you. The intimate way y’all were with one another. Was she one of your former flings?”
“Don’t turn this around on me. She couldn’t have hurt me. We were in broad daylight, out in the open, not cozied up alone in her apartment after a night of drinking and drugs, and handholding, and God only knows what else!” He gestured furiously, forehead vein still prominently popping.
“We already went over this. And I said I was sorry. And I am. And I really can take care of myself,” I reasserted.
Pete gave me a look that managed to be both scathing and condescending. “So, you can take care of yourself now?”
“Yes, I can.” I finally straightened my stooped shoulders.
“You’re so well-trained you can take on a guy.”
Heavy one nod from me. “Yup.”
Pete snorted and looked up at the ceiling as though for guidance. Somehow that little move of his always got under my skin.
“I totally can.”
“You totally can,” he mocked, stalking a single step forward.
“I took down that guy tonight, as a matter of fact.” I folded my hands and then quickly unfolded them at the sight of Pete’s face coming undone.
“Whatdidyousay?”
Whoops. “You heard me,” I squeaked.
“ More deceit, Kate?” He looked at me like he was just seeing me for the first time, and didn’t like what he saw. “What else are you deceiving me about?”
“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d overreact and go over there and beat up a guy I’d already taken care of.”
Pete left his post by the bed to come my way. It might’ve been the only time since I met him that I didn’t want him to come. His face was the color of fury. My stomach plummeted even as I lifted my chin a fraction higher.
“So you can ‘take care of guys’ now?’” he angry quoted.
I had trouble swallowing. “Uh-huh.” I meant for that to sound more definite.
“You know you just got lucky tonight, right?” He waited for me to confirm and when I didn’t, he advanced a couple of more menacing steps. “Things could have easily gone the other way. I’m guessing that’s why you were crying.”
I shook my head in denial, but we both knew it was the truth. “I was able to subdue him.”
“Like I said before . . . you were lucky.”
“Well, like I said before . . . I can take care of myself.”
The vein in his forehead began throbbing—a bad sign we were going the wrong way. “I could subdue you in two seconds flat,” he stated flatly. “A guy half my size with no training could subdue you in about twenty—maybe less, depending on how pissed off you made him. And I gotta tell you something about yourself that you don’t know, Kate: You can piss the hell out of a guy to the point he wants to bend you over his knee and spank you.”
Some boiling over emotions erupted in the form of an outraged gasp. Tears threatened, which always succeeded in making me even madder. “You just try it,” I choked out.
Pete stepped forward over some imaginary line drawn between us. It took all I had in me not to back up. I stared into his flinty eyes, smoldering with fury. He was trying to be intimidating. I swallowed down a double dose of fear and hurt.
“I-I could probably even take you down, too . . . if I had to,” I challenged.
“Do it.”
“What?”
“Take me down.”
“I—” Didn’t think he’d call me out on my bull.
“Whatsuhmatter, Kate?” He stepped even closer, so that we were chest to chest, but I only felt the wall of anger between us.
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” I mumbled out.
He bumped me back with his chest.
“Pe—ow!” Pete had taken the hand I’d just used to push him back and twisted it behind my back. In the next second, my face was smashed against rough denim, and there was a knee planted on my back.
“Hey! That’s not fair! I wasn’t ready!” This was all muffled, on account of my face being smooshed into our comforter. I wasn’t feeling too comfortable at the moment and struggled uselessly.
Pete barked a humorless laugh. “Is that what you’re going to say to your attacker? Excuse me a minute while I dig the mace out of my purse before you begin?”
I quit struggling because it wasn’t working. “I don’t need mace. I’m the weapon,” I mumbled into the duvet.
“Ohhhh . . . that’s right. Guess it would be more along the lines of wait a second while I get myself into ready position, ” he mocked in a falsetto voice.
I remained mute until he removed his knee from my back. Then I whirled around and shoved at his chest with all my might. He didn’t budge a single inch, a sick, condescending smile lifting his lips.
“Get off me!”
“Make me.”
“I don’t wanna hurt, you Pete.”
“Sure you do, or else you wouldn’t have lied to me and run off tonight to drink and flirt with another guy. Was it even for me? Or were you just in the mood to cut loose and party?”
“It was for you!” I bellowed, thrashing against him. He was so dadgum heavy I could barely breath. “Now get off!”
“Make me.”
I tried pushing him again, but it was like I was one of those hapless mechanics who get stuck beneath a truck that’s collapsed on them or something. Anyhow, Pete was just as unaccommodating and unfeeling as a hunk of metal.
Rage started roiling around my system now. “GET OFF!”
I started punching at him then, no longer caring whether or not I hurt him. He let me get in a few hits on his arms and back, while staring down as impassively at me as if I were merely a masseuse working him over. Finally, he held my arms down too. That bunny-in-the-jaws-of-a-wolf feeling overcame me. From Pete . Something moved around in my chest that felt close to despair. Hurt stung my throat, and hot tears stung my eyes.
“You made your point, Pete,” I whispered. “Please get off me.” I wriggled around some more while he stared me down. “Please.” More hard staring. “Get off!” I managed to slip an arm out and hit him in the side. He countered by confiscating both my hands and pinning them above my head. He continued with his dead-eyed stare. I closed my eyes against him.
“Tell me again how you can take care of yourself,” he uttered in a low, menacing voice I could barely recognize as his.
I struggled against him again, but he simply gripped my wrists a little tighter. “Tell me!” He didn’t let up until I clicked my eyes open, but I refused to speak a word to him. Since I couldn’t do anything else, I glared back at him.
“ Weapon ,” he sneered. “You’re helpless. Completely at my mercy.” He demonstrated this by removing one of his hands, keeping both my wrists captive one-handed. “I could do anything I wanted to you—beat you if you started screaming . . . smother you with a pillow.” He began unlooping his belt, and a sob broke loose from my throat. I closed my eyes against him and the mental and physical picture he was painting. He violently whipped his belt free from his jeans, and I flinched from the crack. The tears I had been valiantly withholding began dispersing .
He took his free hand and ran it down my face to wipe some hot drops away. I shook my head, but he only continued to my lips, rubbing a thumb to part them before roving down to my neck, where he paused to grip my throat with his hand. “Or simply choke you till you stopped fighting,” he breathed in my ear.
I started crying then, but he only let up enough to lean off me to loop his belt around my wrists. He pulled the strap so that the buckle was tight against my skin. I gasped but refused to cry out. And I didn’t protest as he tethered the belt to the bedpost faster than a champion cowboy roping a steer. After which, he cupped my breast, slowly circling around my nipple with his thumb. Another sob broke loose, but I refused to even look at him.
“I could do anything I wanted to you right now, and there would be no way for you to stop me,” he hissed next to my ear.
I started hyperventilating a little, so Pete finally got off me. I tried to roll over to sob into the duvet, but he arm-blocked me. He balled his hand into a fist and brought it right next to his deadly serious face.
“One of my fists”—he moved his fist to my exposed stomach—“right here. Would take you down. You wouldn’t be able to breathe or move while I did with you what I wanted. One punch would buy me enough time to get up and go get some handcuffs, or flex cuffs, or rope to tie you up.”
“St-st-stop! Pete. Please! ” I begged, averting my face to the wall.
“Do you think a sicko will stop just because you beg?” He grasped my chin, forcing me to look at him. He paused to allowed the strangled noises to escape my throat before resuming. “Or, I simply could’ve taken the lazy way out, like your photographer friend tonight, and slipped a drug into your pink, foo-foo drink. Then when you were out, I could’ve taken you anywhere I wanted and done anything to you I wanted. And you wouldn’t have even known it . . . until you woke up— if you woke up.” He snatched up his phone and snapped a pic to commemorate my humiliating defeat.
This was my final undoing. I began sobbing hysterically. High-pitched, sharp intakes of breath squeaked in between weird jerking motions from my chest. Pete’s iceberg face started to melt. Or maybe it just appeared that way because of the tears blurring my vision. He finally heaved a sigh and reached for me, but I kicked him away. This time he allowed me to and went around to untether the belt from the bed and my wrists from the belt. I immediately scrabbled off the bed, rubbing my wrists while hiccupping out sobs. I had to get away from him, so lurched away to the only room with a lock on it—the bathroom.
“Kate!” Pete came after me, proving his point once again, because I wasn’t able to get the lock done before he crashed through the door. And even if I did, he could’ve just picked the dang thing faster than I could’ve shoved open the window. I buried my face in my hands to block him out. After a few minutes of letting me cry it out, he finally spoke: “I’m sorry I was so harsh with you. It’s just . . . I wanted to prove my point.”
I thought about kicking him in the balls to prove mine, but all the fight was drained out of me. Must’ve went the way of the tears. I had nothing to say to him. He sighed and reached for me, forcing a hug. I let him. Didn’t he already prove he could subdue me anyway? And anyhow, I sorely needed some dadgum comfort after the night I’d had. I allowed him to hug-walk me back to bed, where he threw back the covers and tucked me in. Then he went into the kitchen for some water and a wet cloth. He returned and studied me silently while I choked down some much-needed hydration. He handed me the cold, wet dishtowel to lay over my eyes. I remembered my husband doing this for me the last time I cried this bad.
Over him.
And then another sob broke out, and I started crying again. For what reason, I couldn’t imagine.
Pete looked more worried than angry now. He pulled me into him, but I felt like I couldn’t breathe so batted him away and rolled away. He sighed again. “I’m sorry, Kate. I didn’t mean for you to get this upset. I see that I took it too far. It’s just—you can be so goddamned stubborn. And if something—”
“I-I-I d-d-did it f-for y-y-you!” I shrilled.
He blew out some air in a drawn-out stream, stirring my hair and some feelings in my chest. “I know you did. And I love you for it. But just like before, you crazy girl, you can’t put yourself in jeopardy. Not even for me. Because I am quite certain I would never survive it if something ever happened to you.”
He rolled me back over to face him. His face came undone at all the damage he’d done. He pulled me into a rocking hug. “I’m really sorry my point was so sharp. I never want to hurt you—I’m only trying to keep you safe.” He kissed my salty tears, moving to my mouth in a sweet, I-love-you kiss.
It was hard to want to kiss back the person who just put you through hell. He broke off to stare at my tear-stained face. Gave me a soulful kind of smile. Wiped some more tears away with his hand and then got into bed and pulled me to his chest. I fell asleep with him stroking his hand from the top of my head down my side and over my butt and back around in a long, unending motion that felt like the shape of the infinity sign.
The long, cold night was finally over, and in the warmer light of day, we turned to each other with forgiving faces.
“Promise you’ll never deceive me again,” he said.
I looked into his shining eyes and made a solemn vow. We sealed it with a kiss and made up with some intense make-up sex. Then, when he was in the shower whistling, I snuck back down to the Jeep and removed the wad of cash from under the seat. I wrapped it in a couple of plastic bags and buried in the garden next to Ruthie’s Ambrosia, which I knew from her botany book meant: love requited.