by Jordan Bell
I rolled my eyes at the air vent.
“You’re hilarious.”
Josh lowered himself into a crouch and, without asking, took my hands in his. His skin felt dry and warm against mine and I hadn’t even realized how cold I was until his touch eased some life into my numb fingers. I tried not to watch as he turned them palm up and then retrieved a key from his pocket.
I scoffed. “You do not carry around your own handcuff keys.”
He grinned, briefly easing his thinly stretched displeasure. “I asked your arresting officer if I could remove them for him. I didn’t think he would let me, but he said something strange. He said, ‘wow, she really has a thing for guys into restraints.’ And then he handed it over.”
“Weird,” I mumbled and watched him insert the key into one wrist and twist until the latch released and the metal unhinged. I wasn’t surprised that Thomas had told everyone the titillating but ultimately underwhelming truth about our date. It explained the officers’ amusement when they decided to abandon me in this room still handcuffed to myself even though I was no longer under arrest once it became clear I was not actually a prostitute.
I should have been more embarrassed about his tattling on me, but I was too exhausted to care. So they thought I liked being tied up. Considering they’d thought I was a prostitute to begin with, a little kinky seemed pretty classy in comparison.
Josh freed my hand slowly, deliberately, a sort of careful ritual I couldn’t tear my eyes away from. His thumb slid across the skin at the inside of my wrist where the metal had pressed for the last hour.
I could have pulled my hand away, but I didn’t. I let him set me loose even though every brief contact our skin made obliterated tiny pieces of me. I never thought I’d touch him again, ever, and here he was at my very worst moment, touching me. The humiliation was almost more than I could take.
The vent kicked on and growled a burst of cool, dirty air into the room. My wet skin broke out into goose bumps and sent shivers racing up my arms. I swallowed, squeezed my eyes shut, and when I opened them again he was looking at me. Dots of light seeped into dark eyes, through the shadows smudged beneath them. He looked tired. He looked older than he had been when I’d curled in his arms last. We existed years and miles apart, even if I could feel his touch it seemed more like a memory than a real thing. Any second he’d vanish.
Josh returned his attention to my hands. With the second wrist he spent a gorgeous stretch of time running his thumb across the joint between metal and bone. The steel heated in his hands, turned deliberately this way and that, and for a billion seconds we didn’t make a sound but for the tinkling of metal against metal like glass. When he finally slid the key in and turned, I felt the lock give way in my spine. I inhaled sharply and he froze and we held onto the moment for as long as we dared.
Everything in my chest ached.
“You’re going to tell me how you ended up in a stolen car,” he said finally, his voice almost even but for a very slight vibration I heard only because I knew his voice so very well. Where I felt this moment caressing up my spine, he felt it everywhere.
Despite the way my heart throbbed with him this close, I couldn’t control the antagonistic cruelty in my voice. As much as I wanted to crawl into his arms and be comforted by the strength of him, I also wanted to hit him. Over and over again. I wanted to destroy him with my bare hands.
I smirked and lifted my shoulders just enough to impersonate a shrug. “He really, really wanted to go on a date with me?”
He scowled.
“This isn’t funny.”
“And none of your business.”
“I received a frantic phone call from Julie at midnight because your date got you arrested. I’m making it my business.”
“Technically, I wasn’t arrested.” I dropped my head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling again. There was no way this was going to end well. “The handcuffs may have been a punishment for getting mouthy with the officers once it became clear I was not, in fact, a prostitute. But I was never actually arrested.”
He snorted softly, anger flaring for a brief bright moment before he tamped it back down. I could feel the tension in his shoulders, his every ounce of self-control keeping his anger in check. It shouldn’t have, but I took a vicious, selfish pleasure in his anger. It meant he cared even when he didn’t want to.
Josh stared at the handcuffs in his hands. They chinked against each other, cold and isolating. Just like us.
“And why,” he murmured, “exactly, did they want to arrest you for prostitution?”
“Apparently my date has an addiction to high end escorts which he likes to pick up in his boss’s very expensive sports cars. When his boss decided to put an end to the habit, he reported his car stolen. As it turned out, however, my date had recently grown tired of shelling out the money for kinky escorts and went looking for a cheaper, legal version.” I motioned to myself with a game show host flourish. “Perhaps not as exciting as a $400 an hour submissive anal sex expert, but absolutely worth the price of a steak and two glasses of mid-range wine.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed the lump of raw emotion.
“Submissive,” he said, though he said it with the same tone of voice one might say tomato salad or large coffee. “You were playing at being his submissive. How did you meet this man, Kat?”
I squeezed my hands until my nails dug into my palms and felt like they’d break through skin. Playing, like what he wanted was somehow more grown-up and serious than what I wanted.
I didn’t answer him and instead stared at the ceiling with violent disinterest.
His nostrils flared. “Katrina.”
Katrina. Guess I’m in trouble now.
Josh looked up at me like he wanted to shake me. He looked at me the way Brian looked at me and I hated him for it. I did not answer him. I never, ever needed to answer to him again. He’d chosen someone else and thrown it in my face with careless cruelty and he’d just have to live with the consequences of that choice.
“Answer my goddamn questions, Kat,” Josh growled. “I’m not playing games with you.”
His displeasure sparked something inside of me, like I’d done this to him on purpose, and suddenly laughter, bright and obnoxious, exploded in my chest. I clasped my hands over my mouth but I couldn’t stuff it back in. It felt carbonated, made me giddy and stupid and light headed. My laughter echoed off the blank walls.
Josh stared at me like I’d lost my mind.
“Adorable. You’re not playing games with me? Like I’m fucking twelve.” I planted my hands on either side of my hips on the bench and stared at him. Stared right into him. “I’m over you. Get out.”
Josh shot to his feet. “You don’t want to be treated like a child, Kat? Then don’t act like one. You want me to treat you like you’re all grown-up? Do something to deserve it.”
“I strive to be a condescending asshole like you, Josh, but I just can’t seem to live up to the legend.”
The way he looked at me at that moment, like he didn’t recognize me, like I was something so beneath him, it made me want to start screaming at the top of my lungs and never stop. He shook his head slowly. He didn’t care how much I hated him.
“You just can’t seem to shut your mouth, can you?” Josh started pacing, unable to look at me for more than a few seconds before turning and stalking away. “You’ve got to have the last, sarcastic word. Whatever it takes to make yourself sound clever and above it all so no one thinks you give a shit about anything.”
I waved him off. “Oh, spare me.”
He spun around and pointed at the door as if he’d like to put his fist through it. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Adults don’t get themselves arrested for prostitution, Kat! They don’t get into a car with a stranger who wants to get off hurting them! They don’t end up in a police station in the middle of the fucking night!”
“Wow.” I swallowed. “Congratulations. Brian would be so proud of you right now. You�
�re finally just like him, the brother he always wanted. Well you’re not my brother. Or my father. Or anyone, Josh. And I just can’t seem to care what you think of me.”
Josh faltered, the fight draining out of him like an exhale. He stared, briefly, lost and distraught, then fled to the far side of the room with his whole body stretched like a rubber band about to break. He pressed his empty hand against his mouth, then ran it back through his hair.
I didn’t know there could be something worse than losing Josh forever, but it turned out having him speak to me the way Brian did pretty much killed me. It wiped out everything he’d ever said to me before this moment and made my memories of him fraudulent.
It meant everything we’d done together was a mistake. Every touch. Every look. Every moan. A small part of me had clung to the hope that it had meant something, even if it was an impossible something.
I was so, so stupid.
His words made my heart collapse, turn to ash, and blow away. But I didn’t want him to know I couldn’t feel it beating anymore, so I bit the inside of my cheek. I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.
“I hate you,” I told the dirty air vent. “I really hate you. Go home, Josh. Go back to your girlfriend. I bet she’s worried by now. You shouldn’t leave her for other women in the middle of the night.”
I regretted those words almost immediately. I didn’t even know for sure if they were true. Maybe not always. Maybe just for a minute. Maybe just a little. I should never have brought Michelle into that room with us. I knew it made me sound like a spiteful, heartbroken little girl.
Which I was. I really was.
A tremor went through his body and for a moment he seemed smaller than he’d been when he came in, like I’d just carved out a piece of him and set it on fire. He dropped his hand to his side and stood there staring at the smudged wall, not breathing or blinking.
“Fine.” He exhaled, not looking at me, barely breathing, turning to stone right before my eyes. “Hate me. But you’re still being held in a police station until someone retrieves you. So let’s go.”
“Screw that. Put the handcuffs back on me. I’ll stay in the drunk tank until morning.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Call me that again,” I warned, “and I’ll give them something to arrest me for.”
“Kat.” He looked like he might begin yelling again, but instead he just shook his head. “I shouldn’t have come.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“No,” he murmured. “You didn’t.”
He didn’t wait for me to say anything else meant to cut him to pieces. Josh crossed the room without so much as a glance down at me, yanked the door open, and walked out.
We both knew that once upon a time I would have called him first. I would have called him in tears begging him to save me and he’d have come running and anything that got in his way would have met a fiery end. Later when I was safe and sound, that’s when he’d lecture and yell and make me promise never to scare him again.
But I hadn’t called him. Not this time. Things were different. This was what it felt like to stand at the end of a story and look over the edge.
I waited on my bench for another second as his steps receded, slower than they’d first come. I hadn’t called him, but he’d come running anyway.
Regret squeezed my heart and I beggedprayedbargained for him to turn around and come back. I knew he wouldn’t, but my ridiculous, childish heart wouldn’t let go of the small hope that he might.
After enough silence proved he was done, I stood and followed him out.
ELEVEN
Everything changed with a phone call.
Something’s happened to her. Josh, she needs help. Julie’s voice shook and in the background I could hear Tyler telling her to breathe.
Everything’s going to be fine, he told her, Josh will go get her.
I’d been fighting with Brian’s complicated accounting system, all of the books spread out across the bar top, but none of it made sense. His numbers seemed to defy all laws of mathematics even though they worked out right in the end. All I wanted to know was why our deliveries were all messed up. When I answered at midnight, I hadn’t expected Julie’s frightened voice on the other end.
I’d run. I didn’t see red lights or stop signs or other cars. I’d never been so worried about anyone in my life but the whole time I’d known this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been so fucking afraid of loving her.
No, let’s be honest. I was afraid of breaking her.
Something’s happened to her. Josh, she needs help.
Then, when I’d found her safe and sound, that worry had turned to anger. Writhing, white hot anger. Not just at her for being stupid and putting herself right in harm’s way as if she were really that naive. As if she didn’t know better. But she wasn’t any of those things. She grew up in South River and South River had no shortage of assholes, most of which loved to drink at South River Bar. She knew how to take care of herself. She should never have willingly walked right into danger like that.
No, I was more angry with myself than with Katrina. I’d done this to her. Her recklessness, her passion, her desperation – that was all me because I couldn’t let go of my careful control and lose myself in her. I’d thought if I barred her entrance into my world, she’d just go back to her life where the only drama she faced was mostly self-inflicted and encouraged by her troupe of girlfriends. That was how I’d thought I’d wanted Kat, blissful and carefree and careless in the best possible ways. I had not, under any circumstances, wanted to push her into a situation where she had to go looking for passion in strangers.
But of course that’s exactly what she’d done and I should have known that’s how she’d react to being left out there alone.
That thought brought back a wave of anger and jealousy as I stalked out into the street. My replacement had hurt her. Maybe not physically, but there was damage there. I’d seen it in her puffy face, in her empty eyes. She’d wanted to trust someone as much as she trusted me, and he’d betrayed that. I knew that betrayal was as much my fault as it was his.
And that stubborn, bratty girl was still in there refusing to leave with me out of some childish spite. I should have dragged her out kicking and screaming if I had to. But if she wanted to hide in there with all the drunks and gang bangers so be it. That was her choice. She’d done this to herself. Maybe I’d pushed her away but she made the choice to get into that man’s car. She’d face the consequences on her own and then maybe this would never happen again.
Of course, no matter how rational that sounded, I couldn’t make myself get into my car and go home. I just stood there staring at the keys in my hand, letting the rain soak into my coat. It was still warm for November, but the weather would soon make a dramatic change to cold and snowy. Tonight the rain was just barely liquid, a degree or two away from turning to ice. But despite its chill, I couldn’t leave.
Those eyes…they’d murdered me. Once upon a time, I’d seen them light up with untempered excitement at the smallest pleasure. When I made popcorn and added lemon and cayenne to the buttery hot mess, she’d announced that was the only way she’d ever eat popcorn again. When she put on costume cat ears and declared today the Other Halloween. When she crowned herself with a paper crown and demanded I double the cherries in her drinks or parish under her short but mighty reign. These were what made her overflow with joy, this homespun wonderland. I’d loved that she could be enraptured by the smallest things. She’d made me feel that way, sometimes. I’d have given anything to see the world through her eyes just once.
But that ridiculousness also made our age difference that much more apparent. She made me feel young one moment and far too old the next.
And tonight those eyes had been filled with such intense self-loathing that it had made me sick inside. Kneeling in front of her I’d wanted to bury myself in the folds of her skirt and beg her forgiveness. Beg her to let me love her. Beg f
or… shit. That would have been the first time I’d ever begged for anything from anyone. And she’d brought me to my knees with one heartbreaking look.
My phone buzzed. It shook me loose and I leaned into the side of my SUV to check the message, half expecting it to be Kat.
I need to see you.
Then-
It’s not what you think. I need to see you tonight.
Michelle. Unbelievable. After I’d asked her to leave Halloween morning, she’d left swearing and hating me for picking someone like Kat over someone like her. She turned into a lioness, warning me that I’d find myself friendless in the community if I stopped seeing her. She threatened Kat’s reputation, which had stripped away my guilt and respect and left us yelling at each other in the hallway. She swore I’d never hear from her again and when I discovered that Kat couldn’t fulfill my needs, no matter how much I begged, she’d never come back to me. I promised her that would never happen.
At no point did it occur to me to contradict her assumption that Kat and I had any future together.
To her credit, she’d done exactly what she’d promised. She hadn’t contacted me until now. It’s not what you think. My first thought was that it was some kind of dramatic booty call. So if it wasn’t that, then what could we have to talk about?
Before I had a chance to answer her, the station doors whooshed open. I turned towards the sound of someone splashing down the steps towards me. Despite myself, despite everything that had happened, I grinned and turned to collect her.
TWELVE
The rain hadn’t let up during my brief, overdramatic incarceration.
Cops and criminals filled the main station room, loud and jostling. There were real prostitutes waiting for processing next to people who seemed dedicated to fulfilling criminal stereotypes. Hoodies, piercings, bleary-eyed addicts and fishnet stockings. Rotund bellies next to tattooed badasses. It was like being on the set of a crime show, except for the very real smells. And vomit.