No Law Against Love 2

by Zoë Archer

  I took his hand. “Listen to me, Jake. Gambling destroyed my family and killed my dad. If you win one bet, you lose three more. Promise me you’ll stop,” I begged him.

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “If you don’t, I can’t be with you.”

  His eyes pleaded with me to take my words back, but I couldn’t.

  “I’ll help you, Jake. Only, you’ve got to swear you’ll stop.”

  He grabbed me by my shoulders and covered my mouth with his before he whispered, “I swear.”

  I helped Jake raise the money to pay his bookie and he kept his word to stop betting. Had he not, leaving him would have been the most difficult thing I’d ever done.

  ~~~

  Jake and I were fast asleep when the annoying ringing of his phone awakened us. After a night of love making, I’d welcomed sleep. Groggily, I raised my head to see Jake answer.

  “Do you know what time it is?” he growled into the receiver. “So, what? Five a.m. is no time to call anyone. Jerry’s always sick. What if I don’t want to come in? Okay! I heard you the first time. I’ll be there.” He slammed the receiver down hard enough to break it.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, rubbing his back.

  “Go back to sleep, MaryAnn.” He rose from the bed. Just seeing his wickedly beautiful body began to stir my juices.

  “Where are you going at this hour?”

  “To take a shower. Jerry called in sick. I’ve gotta take his damn shift again.”

  This was the third time this month. We’d made plans to go to a barbecue today at his brother’s house. I’d been looking forward to going. Jake turned back. “I’m sorry about the barbecue.”

  “Not your fault.”

  “I’ll bring home a nice London broil,” he replied, probably hoping to appease me.

  I rolled over and closed my eyes. I never heard him leave.

  ~~~

  When I came out of the shower, I noticed the red light on the answering machine blinking.

  Thinking I’d missed Jake’s call, I played back the message.

  “Bronson! No more stalling. I want my money today!” the raspy voice of a heavy smoker snarled. “I’m sending Iggy to the store. If you don’t have it, I don’t have to tell ya what’s gonna happen…” This message was followed by a choking laugh before the connection was finally broken.

  “Damn you, Jake!” I said aloud. “You promised to stop gambling.”

  Then it hit me. I had to warn him. I grabbed the phone and called the store. It was busy.

  I tried his cell number and nearly lost it when it went directly into his voice mail. There was no time to waste. I threw on some sweats and drove to the store, praying I’d get there before this Iggy person. As angry as I was with Jake for breaking his promise and betting again, I couldn’t bear to see him hurt by some loan shark’s enforcer. I’ll never forget how my father looked. I envisioned Iggy to be a gorilla of a man who loved his Louisville slugger more than his own mother.

  As I drove, every passing second felt like a hand at my throat tightening its grip, making each breath more and more difficult. By the time I parked the car and rushed into the store, I was breathless.

  I startled Jake and the elderly woman he was waiting on. They both looked at me as if I were some lunatic. She paid for her meat and left there as quickly as her arthritic legs could carry her, not waiting for her change.

  “What’s wrong, MaryAnn? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Jake said, eyebrows still raised in surprise.

  Forcing myself to breathe, I spoke in gasps. “Iggy’s on his way here to collect money.”

  The color drained from Jake’s face. “Iggy? How do you know?”

  “Your loan shark called the apartment. You’ve been betting again. How could—”

  The slamming of a car door interrupted me. Jake came around the counter and grabbed my hand. With me in tow, he headed for the walk-in freezer. Just as the heavy door closed behind us, we heard the bells over the front door tinkle. I prayed it was only a customer.

  Jake held a finger to his lips. I watched as he grabbed a broom standing by the door and wedged it into the handle. Then he pushed me farther into the room. The overwhelming smell nearly made me retch as I knocked into disgusting animal carcasses hanging from meat hooks. I could swear the pigs stared at me with their lifeless beady eyes. The sawdust on the floor stuck to the soles of my sneakers. It felt like the Arctic in here and I began to shiver from the cold. Jake put his arm around me. I was miserable, but I knew the alternative was worse.

  Suddenly we heard pounding on the door as loud as thunder. Jake drew me closer.

  “Bronson! I know you’re in there. Come out now and I won’t break every bone.”

  “Nice guy,” I whispered.

  The lack of color on Jake’s face wasn’t just from the cold. Nor was the worry in his eyes. He was as frightened as I.

  The pounding grew louder and more intense. Iggy was probably getting frustrated. As he banged on the door and tugged at the latch, he made threats and screamed obscenities. “You’re a dead man, Bronson! You hear me? A dead man!”

  Now I truly feared for Jake’s life. What if Iggy was able to get the door of the freezer open? He didn’t sound like the kind of guy who’d listen to reason. An involuntary shiver shook my body.

  “I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered.

  “Why’d you do it? You promised.”

  “It was a sure thing. Honest. I swear it.”

  “Nothing but death and taxes—and Iggy—are sure things.”

  “But I needed the money.”

  “What was so important?” I asked, not bothering to hide my anger.

  “I…I wanted to buy something,” he replied, looking away.

  “Nothing could be so important you’d put your life in danger.”

  “It was to me. I wanted to buy you a ring.”

  I looked at him. Tears began to fill my eyes. I felt speechless. “Oh. Jake.” I stopped, unable to speak. He gently touched my face and kissed the top of my head. With tears streaming down my face, I looked up at him. My anger had abated. He’d done it because of me—because he loved me. I loved him, too. And now I feared I’d lose him because of some creature named Iggy.

  He wiped the tears from my face and gave me a smile before he covered my mouth with his. It was a gentle kiss. We kissed again, but this one became more passionate. Soon the beating of our hearts drowned out Iggy. We sank to the floor, oblivious to the sawdust covering it. Our passion had become bewitching, allowing us to forget our present surroundings and the danger we were in. All we saw was each other. The articles of clothing separating our newly heated bodies from one another were quickly discarded as we made frantic love amongst the hanging carcasses in the freezer.

  We were way too busy defrosting the freezer to notice the pounding had stopped. Only when the door of the freezer was removed from its squeaky hinges, did it get our attention. Suddenly, we looked up and found ourselves surrounded by Jake’s boss, Anton Smith, two gawking policemen and three smirking firemen. I grabbed my jacket in a feeble attempt to cover up. To say I was mortified would be an understatement.

  “What the hell are you two doing? The shop is trashed,” Smith said, glaring at us with such anger, I quickly froze again. “I’m holding you responsible, Jake.”

  “I’ll make good,” Jake said.

  “The hell you will. Why are you in here in the first place?” Smith asked.

  “I’m afraid we’re all going to have to take this downtown,” one of the policemen said, interrupting.

  “What for?” Smith asked. “I’m only pressing charges against that lunatic you have out there.”

  “I’m afraid this is an entirely different issue,” the cop answered.

  “What issue?” Smith and Jake asked, nearly in unison.

  “I believe they’ve broken the law, penal code 1148. It concerns fornicating in a freezer.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Jake said
.

  “I assure you, sir, I am not joking. Now if you and the lady will get dressed…”

  “Would you please give us some privacy?” I asked.

  The other cop, who had remained quiet until now, said, “What’s there left to see?”

  I think Jake’s clenched fists and murderous look helped the other men see things differently. After they walked out, we dressed quickly.

  “I don’t believe this!”

  “And I suppose you think I do?” he replied curtly.

  “It’s no use for us to argue. We’re in this together.”

  “I’m sorry, hon. Things haven’t been going quite right today.”

  “You’ve noticed,” I replied, brushing as much sawdust off of me as possible. It was starting to get itchy in places I never thought possible.

  “Let’s go, you two!” a voice called in to us.

  “No matter what, MaryAnn, you’ve got to believe how sorry I am about all this.” He gestured with his arms.

  Remembering the reason why he needed the money in the first place, I softened my tone and gently touched the side of his face. “I know.”

  He took my hand and we walked out together. No matter what happened next, we’d face it as a team.

  ~~~

  We were hauled in front of a judge. The name plate sitting on his huge wooden desk read Thomas A. Poole. The man looked as if he’d been roused from his bed. Thin as a rail, sagging skin the color of sandpaper, the bags under his nearly colorless eyes were more like buckets. His hair, white as freshly fallen snow, stood on ends in places, looking as if it were cut by a buzz saw. He had a scowl on his face and a bulbous nose that reminded me of a well-used road map. A set of hanging jowls completed the picture, likening him to a bloodhound. Something told me we were in for it. I prepared for the worst.

  Poole waved a long, arthritic-looking, bony finger at the both of us. “Shame on you! You’ve broken the law. What do you have to say for yourselves?”

  “It’s my fault, Your Honor—” Jake began, but Poole shut him down.

  “Who gave you permission to speak?”

  “But, Your Honor—” Jake protested.

  “It was a rhetorical question, young man. You are to speak only when I tell you to.”

  Oh, boy, I thought. We’ve got ourselves a real winner.

  “You are accused of fornicating while standing inside a store’s meat freezer. What say ye?”

  Neither of us uttered a sound.

  The Judge’s face began to redden. “I asked you a question,” he spat.

  “Does that mean you want us to speak?” Jake asked.

  “Are you deaf or just plain stupid?” Poole replied.

  “We’re not guilty, Your Honor,” I said.

  As Poole’s face now took on a purplish hue, I felt the eyes of the two policemen, who’d escorted us into court, bore into me. Jake looked at me, eyebrows raised. I put a finger to my lips. I wanted him to trust me. I knew where I was going with this.

  “What did you just say, young lady?” Poole fixed his rheumy eyes on me.

  I swallowed hard, then repeated what I’d just said.

  Poole looked so angry I thought the large, throbbing, blue blood vessel on the side of his wizened head would explode. Instead he banged his gavel a few times. “Are you daft, as well? You were caught with your knickers down and you stand there telling me you’re innocent? I should throw the book at the both of you.”

  “Your Honor, sir, according to what you said of the penal code, a couple is banned from having sex while standing. Jake and I…we…weren’t standing. We were lying on the floor.”

  “Officer Stewart, how did you find them?” Poole asked.

  “On the floor, Your Honor,” he answered, his voice nearly a whisper.

  “Speak up!” Poole demanded.

  He repeated his statement. Visible beads of sweat had formed along his high forehead. The Judge looked like he considered boiling him in oil. Instead Poole made a sound that sounded like a low growl.

  “As far as I’m concerned, you two are guilty as sin. Intercourse is intercourse in my book whether you’re standing or not. However, in our bleeding, liberal-livered society, some ambulance chasing moron of a lawyer will get you off. Get out of my court.” He slammed the gavel down as hard as he could.

  Jake hugged me and together we high-tailed it out of there. All we heard as we fled was Poole ordering the two policemen to remain. I had a feeling they both were in big trouble.

  “Baby, you were magnificent!” Jake said, kissing me.

  “We’re not out of the frying pan, yet,” I said seeing Anton Smith walking toward us.

  “Huh, what do you mean?”

  Before I had a chance to answer, Smith stood before us.

  “Look, before you fire me, I intend to work, even overtime, in order to repay you for the damage,” Jake said.

  Instead of ragging on Jake, the man broke into a huge smile and clapped him on the back.

  Now I was certain the entire world had gone mad.

  “You’re not angry?” Jake asked, obviously as bewildered as I was.

  “Of course not,” Smith replied.

  “I don’t understand,” Jake replied, clearly wondering about his sudden change of heart.

  “Thanks to your little run in with your loan shark, I can now renovate. The insurance company has agreed to pay for everything. You’re off the hook, man.”

  Now if only Jake could get squared away with the loan shark. A ray of hope entered my thoughts. If only Iggy were promised a deal and ratted out his boss… Whatever, it didn’t matter. Jake wasn’t alone in this. We’d find some way to raise the money together. Afterward, I’d delete the loan shark’s number from Jake’s cell phone—permanently.

  We walked out of the courthouse arm-in-arm, a great deal happier than when we first entered.

  “Hungry?” Jake asked.

  “Starved.”

  “I know just the thing.” He pulled me toward the hotdog stand. “Tell the man what you’d like.”

  I ordered two dogs with everything on them. Jake got the same. We sat together on a bench biting into oozing hot dogs, getting more mustard and chili on our faces than in our mouths. To tell the truth, I was having the time of my life. After they were completely devoured and we’d made an attempt to clean ourselves up, Jake reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jewelry box. He handed it to me. “Open it.”

  My hands trembled. Inside I found a beautiful diamond ring.

  “Will you marry me?”

  “You know I will,” I replied as he slipped the ring on my finger.

  “I guess it was just one of those sure things,” he said, grinning.

  Then he took me in his arms and we kissed. We were interrupted by a cranky voice.

  “You two are incorrigible. I should have slapped both your asses in jail when I had the chance.” Standing before us—shaking his head—was the judge we’d just left!

  I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t resist. I reached my arm out to the nearby vendor and then handed a hotdog to the judge. “Have one on us, Your Honor. We’re celebrating our engagement.”

  Sputtering, he looked down at the hotdog, then back at us. His eyes suddenly narrowed. “Engaged, huh?”

  We nodded.

  “Good, then keep your activities behind your bedroom door. If you ever wind up in my court again, I’ll throw you in jail regardless of whatever position you were in.”

  To our surprise, he winked at us, then walked away—seemingly enjoying every bite of his celebratory hotdog.

  ~~~

  Newcastle, Wyoming • Couples are banned from having sex while standing inside a walk-in meat freezer

  Street Manners

  Patty Howell

  “Hey, hot biker babe. Meet me…” Lisa Butler paid no attention to the guy hanging out the passenger side window. His voice trailed off as the car sped away. She’d heard crude comments many times while biking…much worse than this particular i
nvitation.

  She squeezed the brake handle and coasted to a stop at the intersection. Feet on the ground, she pulled the small white towel from her waistband and wiped her face, simultaneously retrieving the water bottle from its holder and downing a huge gulp. The entire exposed area of her skin glistened.

  “Lordy, it’s hot,” she voiced into the air.

  New York summers easily rivaled those on her parents’ farm in north central Florida.

  Thankfully, here on Long Island, a cool breeze blew in from either the Atlantic or the Sound. Despite making for bad hair days, the winds brought welcome relief from the otherwise stagnant heat.

  She glanced left, right, hopped her butt back on the seat, then pedaled across the intersection and up the steep hill. On the curve at the top she noticed a police cruiser stopped on the shoulder. A uniformed lawman stood beside a red SUV parked in front of the official vehicle. When she pulled parallel, she glimpsed sideways. The officer, whose hand leaned atop the vehicle just above the driver’s window, glanced at her, nodded and smiled. As she ventured on, she caught movement—the arm of the driver had pointed in her direction.

  Halfway down the hill, she sensed the presence of a vehicle behind her and moved closer to the edge of the road, barely staying on the pavement. With a quick peek under her left arm, she noticed the police cruiser following. What the heck? Why doesn’t he go around me?

  The answer came quick enough—the overhead lights came on and the siren wailed, nearly causing her to fall. She straightened upright on the bike, applied brakes, yanked the bike up short, and came close to skidding off the road before stopping. Dismounting, she glared at the cop who’d parked on the narrow shoulder in front of her.

  Strobes ablaze, the sheriff vacated his vehicle and strolled toward her like he had all the time in the world. Lisa’s heart was now slamming into her chest—and not from exhilaration or overexertion. Why is a cop pulling me over at six-thirty on a Saturday morning?

  “Yes, officer?” She glowered. Even though she hadn’t done anything wrong, her entire body tensed.

  “Excuse me…uh…m-miss,” the officer began. Obviously having some difficulty speaking as evidenced by his stammering, she watched him pull his eyes from running up and down her body back to the pad in his hand—but it appeared it was taxing him to the nth. “Uh…do you have any identification on you?”