Chapter 16
Dammit Lauren, you gotta snap out of this shit, she thought, tucked once again within the weight of blankets on Santi’s bed. Julian had come by to tell her that the council meeting had been rescheduled to next week due to the death of the city controller.
She would’ve forced herself to attend despite her lack of motivation; she’d already organized all the information she was going to present this evening. After learning there wasn’t going to be a meeting, she went to the kitchen and began baking to distract herself from what took place in her home.
Santiago had called when she was baking. He was about to leave the department and had ordered her to get out of his kitchen and do what he told her to do when he left her there, which was to rest. “I’ll bring you some shrew-approved food for dinner, if you follow orders,” he’d said.
“Screw your orders, Stillwater. I will fuck you up if you walk in here with food and try to stop me from eating,” she’d threatened, as she fought back a smile.
“And what even is a shrew?” she’d asked knowing full well what a shrew was; but she was starting to feel more like herself, and when she was herself, she liked messing with him.
“I need to know so I can determine if I’m actually shrew-like based on their eating patterns. ”
He laughed, sounding less tired. “Woman, I have never not seen you eat anything put in front of you. But for future reference, a shrew is a wild animal that can only be tamed by a strong steady hand; if not, they will use their cute, perfectly formed mouth to rip into anything they deem a threat.”
“Sounds appropriately bloodthirsty. I’ll be your shrew, Santi, but you better make sure you move in ways that I don’t deem a threat.”
“Some shrews,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken.
His voiced dipping into a lower octave. “The more violent and reckless ones, talk about fucking people up as a part of their mating ritual. Those shrews fuck around and end up on the fun end of a dick. Be careful that you don’t become one of those types of shrews Ms. Green.
Now,” he said, his tone becoming insufferably highhanded again.
“Get in bed, lick your wounds, and do whatever you need to do to relax before I walk into my house.”
“You’re talking real slick there, Stillwater, but I think I have something that will humble you.”
She’d hung up the phone, but she’d returned to his bed as ordered.
Why had she felt aroused talking to Santiago-freaking-Stillwater?
Her body…it wanted her to do nasty things to it in his bed. She wouldn’t follow through with the urge, but she had a strange feeling that he’d have gladly given her permission.
The last time she was intimate with a man, Derrick had—
His image passed through her mind, and she instantly felt like throwing something and throwing up. It was infuriating the way she’d think about him, about home, and temporarily lose grip of her emotions. But not uncontrollably so anymore.
Her phone dinged and she reached across the bed and looked at the screen to see a cartoon image of a shrew sitting on a hill of devoured crawly creatures, its stomach bloated from overindulgence, its razor-sharp teeth with insect bits hanging between them.
She threw back her head laughing.
“This man is an idiot!” she said, burrowing deeper beneath the blankets before sending him a picture of William Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew followed by “A real shrew will never be satiated or tamed.”
Snuggling deeper into the bed of a worthy enemy, she closed her eyes and sighed. It was easy to feel content in the bed of a man she would’ve happily impaled just days before; yet feeling no love, only disgust, for the man she would have willingly committed her life to.
Maybe this was just rebound. Maybe Santiago would be her transitional object bridging the space between who she was and who she could be.
Her body relaxed even more, not even concerned about the half a dozen things she could do in this moment.
Doing nothing is also a choice; sometimes the best choice, she remembered her junior year college therapist telling her. Back when she believed her superpower was doing all the things and doing them better and more effectively than anybody.
But there’s always work to do, she’d said to her therapist.
And you don’t have to be the one to do it, the older woman had said with finality.
Maybe that’s why Derrick cheated.
Maybe she was too much, did too much.
But why would Lahn sleep with him? Why had her parents stood with Lahn over her? Why had they not said anything, knowing—
Stop! Because unless you are willing to pick up the phone and call them, all you’re doing is asking questions that you won’t get actual answers to.
Hugging Santiago’s pillow to her, she breathed deep and exhaled, then did it again and again, until she woke up.
The orange-red glow of the setting sun had transitioned to complete darkness, and Santiago still wasn’t home.
Checking her phone, she resisted the urge to check on him and ask if everything was okay; that wasn’t a level of intimacy they had.
She walked through the house to the back porch and settled in the rocking chair. Despite the trauma from this morning, the natural sounds around her, the shadowed water with its advancing and retreating waves, she wasn’t afraid, not even when she looked toward her house.
Stars crowded the velvety night reminding her that the universe was infinite, beyond the reach of the sun and the earth.
She told the universe she was strong enough to expand and grow beyond the betrayal of Derrick and her family.
Hell, she was already doing it, she thought as she stood, preparing to go inside and scavenge food other than the cakes she’d made.
When her phone vibrated, she reached for it preparing to attack Santi for making her starve; but it wasn’t Santi. Derrick’s name and face were displayed on her screen.
The bottom didn’t drop out of her stomach, but she didn’t answer.
Of course he would call right after she told the universe she was strong enough to grow beyond the betrayal.
And she was strong enough. She was also strong enough to hold onto her peace now that she’d chosen it.
Tomorrow would be a perfectly fine time to begin peeling the scabs of dead skin from her heart.
Tonight, she’d continue to rest and do nothing.
“Sheriff!”
“Stillwater stand down,” Roan shouted.
Garland Porter dug his fingers into Santiago’s forearm, deeper than skin, gouging his flesh. Santiago tightened his hold, elbow constricting around Garland’s airways. Stealing the air from the evil motherfucker’s lungs and soul.
Let him choke.
Like a rabid animal.
Garland thrashed his three-hundred-pound body around wildly trying to loosen Santiago’s hold, instead Santiago rotated his shoulder insuring no air would pass through to Garland’s lungs. At least not while he was conscious.
“Don’t kill him please!”
The plea might as well have come from the future it sounded so far away. Santiago held on until the other man’s dead weight strained the muscles in his arms and shoulders.
“It’s done League, he’s neutralized. You can let him go.”
Opening his arms wide and stepping back, Santiago let Garland fall to the ground like the sack of shit he was.
“Cuff him,” he ordered Jessie, who rolled the larger man onto his stomach using his foot.
Walking across the parking lot of Freedom Middle School, Santiago kneeled beside the prone body of fourteen-year-old Tyler Blake.
“How long before EMT arrives?” he asked.
“Less than five,” Jessie called out.
“Is he gonna die?” Tyler’s twelve-year-old sister, Yesenia, asked beside him.
“He’ll be alright,” Santiago said, wishing the child would wake up. “Young men like your brother, they have the spirit of warriors. He might be down now, but he won’t be easily defeated.” He looked at her. “You wanna tell me what happened here?”
“Me and Ty were riding bikes in the playground when them Porter kids walked past. They said they wanted to ride our bikes, but it was getting dark, so we said no, we were about to go home. Daddy told us a long time ago we were responsible for the care of our stuff, and Cory, Mel, and Sarah don’t treat their own stuff with respect.
Most important, we didn’t let them ride our bikes because we don’t like them.
Cory and Mel said we probably stole the bikes, so they weren’t ours and they could ride them.
The two brothers tried to jump Ty and he beat their asses…
I mean butts. Sarah called their daddy once she saw her brothers were losing and next thing we know he’s running onto the playground and started beating on Ty.
Ms. Mildred came out and tried to help me and Ty, but Mr. Porter punched her and started kicking Ty. ”
“I have never heard so many niggers and som’bitches from one person’s mouth in all my days of living in Shrouded Lake,” Ms. Maitland said behind Santiago.
She’d been a young teacher when he was in middle school here, now she was in her early sixties and the only black principal in all of Olympus County. Her bottom lip was busted, and her right eye would likely be swollen shut tomorrow.
“Put your bikes in the back of my cruiser, Yesenia. Call your parents and tell them we’ll meet them at Grace Baptist Hospital.”
She rolled both bikes to his vehicle. “Call ya daddy now,” he heard her say as she walked past the Porter kids.
“Maybe your intervention will stop Butch and Lou from retaliating,” Jessie said.
Santiago dragged a weary hand over his face. “Lord, we don’t need one more thing.”
“It’s like the winds of change have been scorching through this town for the last few weeks,” Ms. Maitland said. “Arriving on the heels of your new neighbor, or should I say…love interest?”
Seems like a busted lip wasn’t going to stop her from laughing at him.
“You better get to the hospital and get that arm attended to,” Roan suggested.