Chapter 5
Christine
I was a simple girl who preferred simple things.
Did I have an evil streak running through me?
You bet I did. I’d learned it was necessary while dealing with my parents, who were real pieces of work.
However, I was the cautious one, a woman who never took any chances. I rarely tempted fate and preferred living my life simply, without complications.
I had my little house in a cheap, albeit decent part of town. While a rental, I’d been lucky to find such a gem on short notice and for a price I could afford. In the months of living in Tampa, I’d finally begun to feel as if I was able to live my life the way I wanted.
Away from my treacherous family.
While my parents’ house was a little over three hours away in driving distance, it was just far enough my mother wouldn’t suddenly drop in on me. Besides, I’d yet to provide my address even after six months.
With a chuckle on my lips and a lemonade in my hand, I headed out the front door.
I also lived on a cul-de-sac with only six other homes located on my street, which was also nice except the freeway was way too close, bringing constant traffic noise.
But I’d learned to ignore it, enjoying the peace that being away from a crowded apartment allowed.
With my little short shorts and tank top on, my hair up in a bun and wearing a sunhat and dark glasses, I was ready to tackle the heat of the afternoon. Besides, I’d freeze my butt off later when I went to the rink. At least it was something to look forward to.
My music selection made, a little Spanish salsa music, I was already in a much better mood.
I sat down on the front step, studying the flowers I’d stopped off at Lowe’s to purchase on the way home.
Flowers were my treat, both the scents and vivid colors allowing a smile no matter what kind of mood I was in.
Today, I’d needed a pick me up. Not because of school or even because my father had called not once but twice.
As usual, he hadn’t left a message because he expected me to be Johnny on the spot returning his call. I refused. Whatever he wanted, he could either text or leave me a message like normal people did.
As if my father was normal.
He’d deemed himself a hunter these last few months, acting as if he’d taken on the hand of God in deciding what kind of creatures were allowed to walk the earth.
Why was I even thinking about him? He’d driven me crazy my entire life, pushing me in directions I didn’t want to go. So the quiet little girl who up until a couple of years ago had never pushed back was pushing hard now.
I was finished with being a pawn in anyone’s game.
The lemonade was refreshing and I was thankful for the beautiful wispy clouds and blue sky. While it was humid as usual, I could almost detect an ocean breeze. Even after growing up in a house on a private beach, I still loved the ocean.
After a few more sips and placing the covered bottle on the porch, I grabbed my bag of garden utensils and the flat of flowers and headed to the little area I’d already painstakingly carved out next to the driveway.
With a gorgeous bush as the backdrop, all that was needed were a few purple and fuchsia flowers.
I had my hanging baskets and a couple of other pots full of flowers and this would finally allow the little house to seem more like home.
Even if it desperately needed a paint job.
Maybe I could convince my landlord at some point.
And maybe pigs would learn to fly too.
Chuckling, I set out to plant every container, filling the area full of the bright petals. For a long time, I hadn’t been able to smell or touch any foliage. Too dangerous. Maybe that’s why I’d spent too much money at the local big box hardware store.
I had dirt all over me, but I didn’t care.
When I was finished, I struggled with the huge bag of mulch, getting more mulch on me than I did on the flower bed, but finally, I managed to maneuver the heavy bag. After patting everything into place, I broke into a smile.
Time to get everything watered.
After soaking the pretty flowers, I gathered a whiff of fresh mulch and was a happy little camper.
I tossed the tools on the front porch and dragged the hose closer.
Before I went inside, I’d give the other flowers some water as well.
In celebration, I grabbed my lemonade, doing a little dance. Things were finally coming together.
With the light breeze, I was more content than I’d been in a long time. Or at least I would be if I didn’t have a phone call hanging over my head.
No, I wasn’t going to think about that right now. I had other things to do including skating, something I looked forward to more than anything in the world. My freedom.
As I watered the flowers in the pots, I allowed myself to enjoy the music.
Sadly, my heart continued to thump.
I tried humming to get my mind off everything, but soon, my own voice was drowned out by a rumble.
Was that thunder?
Glancing at the sky, I shielded my eyes. No, there were no dark clouds. What the hell was the sound?
I turned toward the street, realizing seconds later the sound was coming from a vehicle. A very loud, obnoxious vehicle. Not only a loud engine, but an even louder radio playing what sounded to me like eighties hair bands.
Seconds later, a car careened around the corner going a little too fast, the thump-thumping of the deep bass matching the wild beat of the engine’s rumble. The flash of black indicated a sports car, but it was tough to tell with the sun beaming down so brightly.
While the driver slowed, something happened. Was he reaching for his cell phone?
“Don’t you dare do it.”
A bad feeling rushed into my system.
Goddamn, I hated when I was right.
Which was most of the time.
With a sudden hard jerk to the left, the driver narrowly avoided hitting two mailboxes.
A jerk to the right and I also heard the squeal of brakes a couple of seconds before a flashing blur of gold hit me in the face and I watched in horror, a moment of cinematic slow motion kicking in when the front tires jumped the curb and rolled right over my new flowers and the beautiful flowering shrub, barely avoiding hitting my car before coming to a stop in the middle of the street.
While accidents certainly occurred, it would appear from what I’d seen that the idiot in the driver’s seat had been distracted by a phone call and had lost control, crushing the only smile of the day in the process.
Man, I was pissed.
Livid.
I was the level of enraged that meant the person on the receiving end of my fury would soon wish they’d never come to this area of town. From what I could tell, there was a man driving, only I couldn’t see his face any better than he could see mine.
He also wore dark shades and a baseball hat, obviously not noticing I was standing in the middle of the yard when he threw open the driver’s door. As he stood, I was surprised how tall he was. I was standing on a slight knoll, but he still appeared much taller. At least six and a half feet.
“Damn it. Motherfucking son of a bitch. Shit. Damn. Fuck.”
The hearty string of curse words was accentuated by a husky voice, a deep baritone that if I wasn’t in such a bad mood would certainly provide some sense of arousal.
If I was that kind of girl.
I wasn’t.
In fact, I was more annoyed than I’d been in very long time. But to my credit, I kept my mouth shut, waiting and watching as the flower killer moved toward the front of his car, crouching down to inspect if there was any damage.
I managed to keep my cool, curious as to how long it would take until he noticed me. He was still cursing, albeit now under his breath, furious that there was mulch imbedded around his headlights.
While I wasn’t one to judge people all the time since I’d had enough of that while serving my time living with my parents, that’s exactly what I was doing right now.
Dissecting everything about him. From his faded jeans that fit way too snugly on his sculpted butt to the interesting tee shirt he was wearing, a garment that was at least a size too small, but provided me with a beautiful pictorial of his pectorals and muscular arms.
When he finally stood, he jerked off the baseball hat, running his fingers through his hair then shoving it back on.
What I found amusing was his selection of vehicle. If my dates were right, he was driving a nineteen seventy-eight Trans Am. The Smokey and the Bandit edition complete with the gold bird. I almost allowed a hint of amusement to flow alongside my anger.
Only men who were interested in proving their manhood dared drive such vehicles.
He grumbled once more and at that moment, my anger bristled all over again. And why? He was standing smack on one of my freshly planted flowers.
I could tell he finally figured out the crime he’d just committed hadn’t gone unnoticed. That’s why when he straightened all the way to his full height, every muscle in his body stiffened. Very slowly he tipped his head over his shoulder.
Meanwhile, I plastered a smile on my face, remaining right where I was with the hose still in my hand, beads of water trickling from the nozzle.
When he finally had the nerve to turn around, I kept the sweet smile, dropping my head in an exaggerated way since I was still wearing my sunglasses.
He followed my trail, finally noticing that he’d crushed my beautiful flowers.
“Oops.”
The single word didn’t bode well with me. Normally, a person might apologize profusely or even move off the spot as if stepping on flowing lava.
Not this guy.
Oh, no.
He stood staring at me, unmoving to the point the moment was unnerving.
So I did what anyone would do in this set of circumstances. Instead of flying off the handle or screaming at him, I did something even better.
I turned on the water full blast, aiming the stream directly at his chest.
While he sucked in his breath, even throwing out his arms, he didn’t budge. Not even an inch.