After Hours: (InterMix)

by Cara McKenna

  But the sex was fucking insane.

  I shook my head. What a dumb thing to even be debating. For all I knew, Kelly had absolutely no interest in me, outside of some fuck-buddy arrangement. Which was possible. Probable.

  Did fuck buddies drive two hours roundtrip to tow their lays’ cars? Seemed a bit beyond the call of duty—

  Then I heard a noise that pulled me straight out of my internal argument and dropped my heart into my gut. The distant thump of car-stereo bass. And a glance confirmed my worst fears—a shiny red truck turning the corner, with Marco’s stupid meaty forearm flopped out the driver’s side window.

  So Kelly had grilled me a steak, laid me soundly, rescued me from my automotive woes. That left exactly one box to check off his manly to-do list before he had the set.

  “Fuck me,” I whispered. Let the dogfight begin.

  Kelly glanced up at the noise.

  “Don’t talk to that guy,” I told him, and rushed up the lawn and into the house, screen door slapping at my back.

  “Amber!”

  She was untwisting one of Jack’s socks on the couch. “What?”

  “Marco’s here. And you better get him to turn around and leave. Kelly knows he’s the reason I showed up at work with a black eye and I doubt he’s going to be subtle about it.”

  She sighed, clearly more annoyed by my barking than the situation. “Shit.”

  “Don’t swear.”

  “I asked him to come, but not this early.”

  I blinked at her, but could I really act so shocked? The beer had told me everything I’d needed to know. “Dear God, why?”

  “I dunno. He’s been sweet lately. He said he wants to reconcile.”

  “Honey.” I stared at her squarely. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t,” Jack echoed, eyes on the TV.

  “I don’t know what I want. But he’s so much nicer when he’s trying to win me back.”

  “That’s charming. And so sustainable, when it means you have to have been fighting, first.”

  Amber made a puppet of her hand, miming blah blah blah blah.

  Through the window, I watched as Marco exited his truck across the street and slammed the door.

  “The fact that he thinks you’re a possession that can be won—”

  She swept past me with Jack in her arms. “Give it a rest, Erin. Jesus.”

  “Jeezes!”

  I brought up the rear in the confrontation parade, marching down the patchy lawn. Marco spotted us as he was striding toward the front door, and gave a stiff wave. He could play nice all he wanted, but no way was I forgetting that the last time I saw him, we’d both driven away bleeding.

  He cast Kelly and the vehicular activities a glance over his shoulder, looking shifty as he faced forward. Kelly’s cold eyes went to Marco’s back, then my face. There was no question in that stare. He already knew the answer. Yup, that’s the guy.

  Amber was wise enough to greet Marco with her skinny arms still full of Jack, not welcoming a hug.

  “Hey,” he said to her, then tossed another wave in my direction.

  “Hey.” Amber leaned forward stiffly so he could peck her cheek. Clearly, she liked this cold-shoulder-versus-penitent-boyfriend shtick. Fucking foreplay.

  “How’s my boy?” Marco touched Jack’s hair, the hair I’d so lovingly shampooed, and I fought off an urge to slap his hand away.

  “He’s been pretty good today. Right?” Amber cooed at Jack. “You’ve been real good for your auntie Erin?”

  Jack excitedly began recounting the incident with the monster ant, but Marco wasn’t listening.

  “Cool. So . . .” He glanced behind him, to the action blocking the driveway.

  “My car won’t start,” I said.

  “Why’d you let her call a mechanic?” Marco asked Amber. “I coulda took a look at it.”

  “It’s fine.” Never in a zillion years would I put myself in a position to have to say thank-you to Marco. I’d sooner paper cut my eye. Maybe the same eye I bruised, getting pushed into the car he was now so graciously offering to fix.

  “That’s not a mechanic,” Amber said, in a voice I didn’t trust one bit. Even in reconciliation mode, she couldn’t resist taking a shot. She was winding up, and the pitch wouldn’t be far behind.

  “If he ain’t a mechanic, who is he?”

  “That’s Kelly,” she said, way too sweetly, with her head cocked just so.

  I watched Marco frown, Amber’s curve ball whizzing past his thick, predictable skull.

  “He’s my coworker,” I interjected. And no, Amber’s not fucking him.

  But I am.

  “Oh. Okay. You gonna invite me in or what? Work was fucking exhausting.”

  “You’ve got to quit using that word in front—”

  Marco plowed right over my nagging. “I need a fucking beer.”

  “Yeah, fine.” Amber sighed, and turned to lead Marco into the house. I sighed, too, silently, with relief.

  I wandered back down the driveway to Kelly. He’d installed a wishbone-shaped thing to his truck’s hitch, and was crouching with a jack now, lining the prongs up with the front of my car.

  “You work quick. Everything—”

  “That’s him, huh?” Kelly didn’t look up from his chore, just hoisted my car another inch with each crank on the jack’s lever. When I didn’t answer, he jerked his chin up and stared me dead in the face. “That’s him? The one who gave you a black eye?”

  I shook my head. “Don’t.”

  “You can’t stop me.”

  “Kelly, please. Don’t. It’s not your business.”

  His eyebrow twitched, telling me he did in fact think it was his business, but then he went back to the task at hand.

  I leaned against his truck. “I’m asking you as a favor, please don’t make a thing of it.”

  He finished with the jack and brushed past me to dump it in his bed, pulling out a mess of wires. “Why don’t you tell that guy to come outside, so I can have a word with him?”

  My arms locked across my chest reflexively. “I’m not doing that.”

  And Kelly said nothing for the next ten minutes while he ran cords between the two vehicles and tested my blinkers and brake lights. It was eating me up, not knowing what he was going to do.

  “We’re just about set here.” He wiped his hands on a clean rag, then tossed it in the bed. “Lemme just take care of that other issue, then I’ll get you home.” He headed for the house.

  “Kelly, don’t. Seriously—don’t.” I grabbed his forearm, but he twisted loose with a practiced flick of his wrist.

  “Kelly. Please.”

  He just kept striding, pulled the door open and held it long enough for me to precede him inside.

  Jack was playing on the floor, and Amber and Marco were sitting on the couch with beers, watching something noisy on the television. Marco had shitty hearing from working on road crews, and I hated how he blasted everything and said, “Huh?” all the time. I hated lots of things about him.

  “How’s the car coming along?” Amber asked. Marco kept his eyes on the screen. It was embarrassingly obvious how little he relished being only the second-biggest man in a given room.

  “Car’s just about ready,” Kelly said. “But I need a word with your man here. Outside.”

  Marco’s head jerked up. “Word about what?”

  “Word about that black eye you gave my friend the other week.”

  Marco got to his feet and set his beer on the coffee table with a thunk. “She—”

  “You raise your voice in front of that kid and we’ll be having more than just the one word,” Kelly said, deadly calm.

  Foam had erupted from the beer bottle and Amber scrambled to pull picture
books and magazines out of its spreading tide.

  Kelly had turned his back on us, heading for the door. Marco shot me a killing look. I could’ve told him I had nothing to do with this duel, but fuck him for leering at me that way. Let him think I’d sicced this bruiser on his sorry ass.

  He left us, exiting thirty seconds behind Kelly.

  “Oh shit,” Amber said softly.

  “Ship,” Jack agreed, and held up a toy boat to show us.

  I rubbed my face and took a deep breath. Outside, Marco’s voice flared with words I couldn’t make out. “Just keep Jack inside. I’ll be back.” I pulled out my phone as I shoved through the door, ready to call the cops if it got ugly.

  It had already gotten ugly. The men were nearly chest-to-chest in the dusky light, Marco seething and shouting, Kelly impassive.

  “And exactly what fucking business is it of yours?” Marco demanded.

  I couldn’t make out Kelly’s reply.

  A deep shiver went through me as I imagined what must be happening in his head, smelling Marco’s beer breath, feeling his warm spittle. Was he back in high school, scrapping with his drunk stepdad?

  “I didn’t give her no black eye. She fell. She keyed my truck and spat at me.”

  I caught a snatch of Kelly’s stoic reply, something about, “Self-defense? Against a hundred-pound girl?”

  “Who in the fuck told you this was your business?!”

  Holy hell. Was this my nephew’s future? Getting cussed out by his drunk father, same as Kelly had? I turned, finding Amber watching from the window, Jack in her arms. I glowered and waved at her to get the fuck away, get her son’s eyes off this train wreck. She tossed her hair and disappeared toward the kitchen.

  “Just like their momma,” Marco was saying, right up in Kelly’s face. “She is a goddamn. Crazy. Psycho. Cun—”

  And he never got that hard T out. It was swallowed by a grunt, his arm folded up behind his back, chest slammed to the ground, then Kelly was on him, one knee on the lawn and the other jammed hard into the small of Marco’s back. The side of Marco’s face was mashed into the grass. His teeth were gritted and his eyes clamped shut, snot already slipping down his lip.

  I just stood there, a wide-eyed, slack-jawed statue. The world went eerily still and quiet. So quiet I could make out Marco’s whimpers and every last one of Kelly’s slow, steely words.

  “I ever hear about you laying a hand on either of those girls, I will break every bone in every finger you possess.” He tensed, and I could tell how hard he was driving that knee into Marco’s back by the way Kelly’s leg shook.

  “Fuhhhck.”

  “And if I ever hear a word about you laying a hand on that boy, I will put you in a wheelchair. Do you understand me, Son?” He gave Marco’s arm a twist.

  “Fuhhhhhh.”

  “What was that?”

  “Yeah. Yeah yeah yeah.” Marco was trying to nod, rubbing his own face in the dirt.

  “I thought so. And if I ever catch you coming ’round where I live, looking to continue this discussion, I will neuter you like a fucking puppy. You got that, you drunk-ass, white trash waste of come?” Another twist.

  “Yuh.”

  Kelly released Marco’s wrist. The effort of standing drove his knee into Marco’s back one more time, and the lawn muffled the resulting wail.

  “Let’s go,” Kelly said, without even looking in my direction.

  I ran inside for my stuff. When I dashed back out, Marco was just making it to his feet. We made eye contact, but he didn’t say a word.

  For no reason whatsoever I said, “Bye,” and jogged down the driveway and around Kelly’s truck. He started the engine as I slammed the door, and we didn’t speak a word for the entire drive to Larkhaven.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kelly pulled into the drop-off area in front of my building, too encumbered by my car to park.

  I��d been seething the entire ride, jacked up on anger and fear, and a sort of reckless, combustible sexual adrenaline from glimpsing that side of Kelly.

  But it was so un-fucking-fair that he could do that. That he could get the better of Marco, make some difference in my problems, just because he was strong and male and pushy. Just march in against my explicit wishes and muscle through the mess I’d been living with for almost three years with his big, stupid arms.

  And I couldn’t do shit, because Marco couldn’t give a damn what anybody thought unless they were tougher than him. I could scream.

  Kelly put the truck in neutral and turned to me.

  I addressed the dashboard, my breath so short it hurt to talk. “How much. Do I owe you?”

  “I’ll tell you after I fix it.”

  “Fine.” I unbuckled my seatbelt.

  My head was shaking. I wasn’t even telling it to. I stared Kelly straight in his pale, calm eyes, my own burning with anger. “You have some fucking nerve, butting into my family’s business.”

  “You asked me to come there.”

  “For a lift.”

  “And what, I’m supposed to just let it go, knowing the guy who messed you around is inside, thinking there’s no consequences? How’s that not my business?”

  “I told you a hundred times, I didn’t want your help with that.”

  He twisted in his seat and laid an arm across the back of mine. “You need my help with that.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Yeah, you do. You can’t fix your issues with that shitbag, just like you can’t fix your car. But I can. So fucking let me, why don’t you? Quit thinking you have to be the strong one all the time.”

  “Don’t you dare analyze me.”

  “Quit telling yourself you don’t need anybody.”

  “I don’t need anybody.” People needed me. My sister, my grandma, the residents on the ward.

  “Yeah,” Kelly said. “You fucking do.”

  “You really wanna talk about people and their control issues, Kel? Because we can talk about that.”

  He huffed a quiet laugh from his nose, blinking up at the cab’s ceiling. I wanted to hit him, he looked so patronizing.

  “Thanks for the lift,” I spat, shoving the door open. “See you at work.”

  “You’re wel—”

  I slammed the door on his reply. My hand shook so hard I could barely fish my keys from my purse. I stomped toward the entrance, punching the walkway with every step.

  When I got up to my room, all I wanted was a beer and an early night. But first things first, I had to make sure Amber was okay. Marco had finally gotten bested by a bigger bully than himself, and on his own playground, no less. Who knew if he’d be left humbled or livid by the turn of events.

  I sat on my bed and dialed, hunched over, rubbing my forehead.

  Amber answered after half a ring. “Hi,” she huffed.

  “Hey. I just wanted to make sure everything’s cool over there after—”

  “Excuse me? How about an apology?”

  My head snapped up. “For what?”

  “For sending that Kelly guy after Marco, roughing him up like some thug when he didn’t do anything.”

  “I didn’t ask him to do that! And Marco did do something—he shoved me into a car, if you haven’t forgotten.”

  “Don’t you try that, talking all judgmental, like you didn’t start that fight. Like you’re not fucking a married man. Which is so much worse than—”

  “What? No I’m not!”

  “Well you want to, I can tell.”

  “No, I mean he’s not married. He just wears a ring bec— It doesn’t matter why. It’s a long story.”

  Silence, for a blessed moment. Then, “It is so out of line, you letting him get all up in Marco’s face, when he’s been working so hard to be better f
or me and Jack. Like he doesn’t have enough shit he’s trying to work through. Like it’s even anybody’s business but ours.” When the two of them got fighting, it was the entire neighborhood’s business, whether anyone wanted to hear it or not. Marco broadcast himself on thumping speakers, be it a domestic dispute or the awful, thrashy rap-rock music blaring from his truck.

  “I’ll have you know I didn’t let him get in Marco’s face. I begged him not to. But he knew how I got my black eye.”

  “You just can’t resist butting in, can you?”

  “I wasn’t trying— Jesus, fucking forget it. I didn’t ask him to do that. But it’s all stuff I’d have happily said to Marco, if I had a dick and weighed twenty pounds more than him and stood a chance at getting heard. And no, I can’t not butt-in. Not if it’s about you and Jack.”

  “Get your own life, Erin.” Mean words, but they came out lame and petulant, and I could tell the fire had gone out of her, too.

  “You guys are my life. Get used to it.”

  Some noises in the background, Marco’s voice, unintelligible words in a bored tone, which gave me permission to relax about Amber’s safety. Hell, they were probably united against me and Kelly now, all boo-hoo bonding over the night’s drama.

  Amber’s muffled reply came through. “I don’t know. Check the freezer.” A pause, then, “Erin, I have to go.”

  “Am I still watching Jack on Monday?”

  An angry sigh, and she hung up on me.

  I tossed my phone on the bed, grabbed a pillow and screamed into it.

  Better.

  A bit better, though I wouldn’t have minded a benzo jab. I hated these stupid, fiery Mom-feelings. How nice it’d be to just get knocked out, wake up confused but docile. A beer would have to do. I pulled a can out of my little fridge and cracked it open, found my laptop and checked the day’s news headlines, needing a diversion. After that I scrubbed my face and brushed my teeth, relieved by the routines and the normality. My surge of Mom-angst subsided as it always did—just in time for the damage to register and leave me humbled.

  As the rage lifted, I had to concede my anger toward Kelly. I was pissed off at Marco for being a tyrant, and I’d transferred that hate onto Kelly, for using that same physical intimidation to accomplish what I couldn’t.