Chapter 25
CRUTCH
I have a new purpose in life. A new reason for living.
Bringing Lulu to orgasm. Making her scream. That’s my new purpose. And I could do it all day, every day, from here to eternity.
Lulu’s loud when she orgasms. Really loud. I thought the little moan she gives when she’s ready to be kissed was hot. Hearing her cries when she comes all over my face or my fingers is a completely different story.
I’m addicted. I’m an addict.
I can’t keep my mouth off her. I can’t keep my fingers out of her. The days have been a blur of normal life, rushing through the motions, counting down the minutes until she shows up at the garage or at the homestead.
I don’t know how I don’t have lock jaw. I also don’t know how she can even walk.
“Ry, are you listening to me?”
I glance up, watching Lulu draw her straw through the whip cream of her frozen coffee drink.
Laughing, I remove the ballcap from my head and run my fingers through my hair. “No. No, I’m not listening.”
She narrows her eyes. “And just why not?”
I lean close. Anticipating a secret, she does the exact same thing. “Because I’m daydreaming of throwing you across this table and ripping the panties from your body. With my teeth.”
She doesn’t shy away. That’s not My Lulu. But she does blush. “Well, I definitely don’t see how that would complete your psychology homework.”
“No, but it sure as hell would be a lot more fun.”
Tossing her straw wrapper at me, she turns back to her own chemistry homework.
Another cold front has come through. This one harsh, making the homestead too cold for us to hang out at, even with blankets and a roaring fire. That’s why this Saturday finds us at the coffee shop. At the same table we sat at last time. The same cashier was working as last time too. Lulu quickly reminded me her name was Peyton. She was also quick to roll her eyes when Peyton offered to fix me the same house coffee as last time because I obviously made an impression on her.
It tastes good this time too. Maybe I could be one of those douchebags who buys fancy coffee every day. When I have money, and when I’m somebody, that is.
We spend hours huddled around the small table, working, talking, laughing. Refilling our drinks when they get low. Lulu always jumps up before me, feeling bad that I paid for the first round. We’re in the middle of a very serious conversation about our favorite colors—Lulu is very passionate about green—when we’re interrupted.
“I usually only see you talking this much when you’re trying to give me a headache.”
She jumps up from the table and wraps her arms around the man. She’s not stiff. She’s not standing like a statue. She’s acting like Lulu and not like Ella.
She’s completely and totally comfortable around… a police detective. Detective Marcum. I know him from Carrie’s case, obviously. He came over to the body shop when he was questioning everyone at the gas station. He asked if I knew anything. Of course, I told him no. Because I don’t. I don’t know what happened to Carrie.
But I also knew him from before then.
Years ago, he was the detective working on a case of fraudulent checks and property theft. Yep. Dear old Dad broke into a house and stole some checks and electronics. Not just anyone’s house. It was his boss at the time. He fired Dad for missing too much work and Dad thought he would get even. I remember Marcum coming to my grandparents’ house to ask us questions.
He knows my immediate family tree. A tree that sucks the life nutrients out of the soil around it. You don’t need weed killer, you just need my father, mother, and brother in the vicinity.
Their familiar whispers sprout a tinge of jealousy. But not for long. Lulu swings to me. “Marcum, this is Ryland Crutchfield.” She looks back at him, smiling, whispering. “My boyfriend.”
He’s caught completely off guard. His eyes grow round and his mouth opens in surprise. “And when were you planning on telling me this, Ella?”
She raises her eyebrows. “Now, Marcum. I’m telling you now.”
I rise from the table, offering my hand. Marcum shakes and furrows his brow, trying to recall how he knows me. “Crutchfield. Oh. Are you related—”
I interrupt him. “Yes, sir. Unfortunately, that’s me. Whoever you’re thinking of—my father, my mother, my brother. They’ve all been in jail.”
He nods, slowly, analyzing my face. Trying to see how much of their shit has rubbed off on me. Normally, I don’t get nervous. But he makes me nervous. Without looking I hold my fingers out to my side, begging for a connection with Lulu. I don’t have to wait long. Her fingers quickly wrap around mine, and we discreetly hold hands behind our legs as we stand.
Not discreetly enough. Marcum sees. Well, I guess I should expect that. They don’t give detective badges to just anyone.
“You know, son, if we were all judged by the actions of our families, there wouldn’t be any good people in this world.”
He called me son. Just like Harlan. Just like my grandpa.
“Ella, can I talk with you in private for a minute?”
She holds her head high and squares her shoulders. “Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of him.”
Marcum’s eyes flicker back and forth between the two us. He snorts on a chuckle. “Tuck your tail feathers back in place. I was just gonna tell you something about the case.”
Her shoulders slag back into a comfortable place. “You should’ve led with that.”
He ignores her comment, used to it. Grabbing a chair from the table behind us, he motions for us all to sit down. “We received two anonymous tips over the past two weeks. One sighting in a small town near Phoenix. The other in Nashville. Locals already checked on the Phoenix one. It was nothing. We haven’t been able to discredit the Nashville one yet. Someone said they saw Carrie working at a flower shop downtown. Flower shop has been closed for the past few days, some kind of renovation, and the owner has been out of town. It’s supposed to open back up this coming week. I’ll let you know what they find out.”
Lulu shakes her head. “Not her. Carrie wouldn’t work with flowers. Pollen makes her eyes water. She hates it when her eyeliner runs.”
Marcum nods. “Plus…”
Lulu stares into his eyes. “Plus, she would never leave me, willingly. Alone. With them .”
“Speaking of, I called them earlier this week to tell them about the leads. They never called me back.”
She shrugs. “Didn’t you see Dad’s interview in the newspaper about doing the gallbladder removal for the president of the university? And Mom had some kind of tennis club function. So, you see, their priorities are found much higher on the social ladder than worrying about their missing daughter.”
He clears his throat, taking a drink of his coffee. “Well, I called Ray and told him. I didn’t wanna distract you from the trip presentation. He said you’re supposed to go over to his house for dinner tonight. He said he would tell you then. You can just tell him we ran into each other.”
Dinner tonight? Why didn’t she tell me? I thought we had the whole day and night together. And what trip presentation? Apparently, Lulu isn’t telling me shit.
“Thanks, Marcum.” She flicks her eyes over to me. “I hadn’t told him about the family dinner yet. Now you’ve given him time to try and back out.”
Laughing, Marcum slaps me on the shoulder, taking me by surprise. “Take it from me, son, if going to a dinner will make Ella happy, then do it. She knows how to aggravate the hell out of you if you don’t give her what she wants.”
So, he does know Lulu. Not just Ella.
“I have to go get Nancy. She’s in the hair and makeup store. The kids have a date night tonight so we get to watch Nate.” His smile jumps to ten miles wide.
Lulu tells him to send her regards to the woman named Nancy, and he walks out the door, bundling up against the cold.
She picks up her pencil and immediately goes back to doing her homework.
“Are you kidding me?” I pluck the pencil from her hand and hold it hostage in front of me. “What dinner? What trip? And who is Nancy?”
“Nancy is his wife. His son and daughter-in-law must be having a night out so they are getting to watch their grandson. He was born the same day Carrie went missing.”
“You haven’t told Marcum about the drugs?”
“Of course, I haven’t. You told me not to. So, I didn’t.”
I nod. She’s so amazing.
“Now, what’s this about a family dinner? And what trip?”
***
This is the family Lulu and Carrie should’ve been born into.
Hell, this is the family I should’ve been born into.
Ray and Teresa are the quintessential parents—kind, loving, funny, concerned. Their modest home is comfortable and well-taken care of. Their daughter, Raylee, is home visiting from Florida State University. Their son, Holt, stayed for dinner but then went out with friends. I guess he’s some superstar football player. You wouldn’t know it from meeting him—he’s a pretty chill young guy—but it’s hard to ignore the trophies and framed newspaper articles spread across the living room. He’s a big guy too. Leaner than me, though, and not quite as tall, just about an inch shorter.
More importantly, Lulu is completely comfortable. Completely herself.
Today’s been a great day. No interruptions from people who make Lulu prickle, who make her stand at attention like a clothes hanger is attached to her back, pulling her upright.
Raylee boxes up the board game we all just finished playing as Lulu snuggles next to me on the couch, unabashedly laying her hand across my thigh. I can’t believe I just had a family game night.
Me.
The kid who used to turn his mom on her side so she wouldn’t choke on her own vomit during the night. The kid who saved all the pennies in his piggy bank for when his dad would need bail money. The kid who refused to tell his older brother when he was getting bullied at school for being poor because he was afraid that his brother would kill someone. Literally.
“Crutch, are you sure I can’t get you any dessert?” Teresa lingers at her chair, awaiting my answer before sitting down.
“No, ma’am. I’m absolutely stuffed. I haven’t had homemade lasagna in years. My grandma used to make it.”
She smiles, switching topics. “I remember seeing you. At one of the searches for Carrie. When we were looking in the woods, near where her car was abandoned.”
I nod, squeezing Lulu’s fingers. If she doesn’t stop rubbing my leg, I’m gonna embarrass myself with a huge boner.
Raylee plops down on the opposite end of the couch. “I don’t remember seeing you. And I would’ve definitely remembered seeing you.” Her eyebrows waggle underneath her bangs.
“Raylee!” Teresa chastises.
She tosses her hands in the air. “What? Are we seriously supposed to pretend he isn’t one of the hottest guys to ever walk the face of the planet? He should be happy. It’s a compliment.”
Damn good thing I don’t blush.
Lulu doesn’t roll her eyes; she just laughs.
Ray walks into the room, two fresh beers in his hand. “And I suppose I’m one of those guys too. Right, sweetie?”
Raylee snorts. “Yes, Father.”
Leaning across the coffee table, Ray dangles a beer in front of me. “Ella said you are twenty-one?”
“Yes, sir.” I eagerly grab the beer from his fingers. It’s a craft beer. Expensive.
Lulu sighs. “I wish I could’ve been more involved with the searches.”
“The public relations stuff was important too, Ella. It was the beginning. Getting Carrie’s information out there was vital. Your parents needed you by their side.” Teresa’s just trying to placate Lulu’s frustration. I think we all know her parents could’ve handled the spotlight just fine, all by themselves. But they needed Lulu there to fully portray the perfect, nuclear southern American family.
“How did you know Carrie, Crutch?”
I freeze. Taking a large gulp of beer, I stall for time. What am I supposed to say?
Lulu answers for me. “The body shop he works at is across the parking lot from that one gas station on the other side of the county. When Marcum and Leary went out there to question the employees, they walked across and talked to Ryland and Harlan.”
“Well, that’s really good of you, son. Every warm body helps.”
He called me son. Just like Harlan. Just like my grandpa. And now just like Marcum.
Raylee kicks Lulu with her feet. “How did your trip presentation go?”
I completely forgot about the trip thing that Marcum mentioned. I was too consumed with thoughts of meeting Lulu’s family.
“It went really well. The vote was seven yes and three no.”
“That’s great. Congratulations.”
I clear my throat and nudge Lulu’s side.
She giggles, taking my breath away. She glances around at her family. “I haven’t told him anything about it.”
They all nod, knowing a secret I don’t know. And I don’t like it.
“Back when Carrie was a senior in high school, she tried to convince them to do something really special for the senior trip at the end of the year. She wanted them to do something civic related. Do something for charity, for the greater good. Not just the same old trip for getting drunk and partying. Student council voted her down.
“I thought trying the same thing would be something nice to do. For Carrie.
“So, our senior trip will be a two-week trip to Puerto Rico. The first week, we will be partnering with a charity organization to buy and distribute water filters to those in need of clean drinking water. The last hurricane still has the infrastructure messed up. We’ll also help with a school and park remodel. The second week, we’ll do the normal senior trip thing. We’ll stay at an all-inclusive resort on the coast. Get some sun. Play in the water. Let those who party, party.”
I discreetly rub the side of her hip with my thumb. “You did that? You convinced a bunch of self-centered, rich kids to give back? To spend part of their senior trip doing charity work? That’s amazing. You’re amazing.”
She shrugs off my compliment, reaching for her glass of water on the coffee table. “It’s no big deal. Most of them are just doing it to pad their future resumé.”
“Well, I’m proud of you. Regardless of everyone else’s intentions, I know what your intentions are.”
She leans against me, staring into my eyes. Her brown eyes shimmer like honey in the sun. She winks at me, teasing me. She loves to tease me. “By the way, guess I should mention that I’ll be taking a two-week trip in May?”
I’m just excited that she thinks she’ll still want to be with me come May.
Color me surprised, but trying to keep this thing with Lulu as ‘temporary’ isn’t working out too well for me. I’m like the poor, pitiful dog from the pound, instantly attached to the pretty lady who took me home.
Woof.