by Ellen, Tracy
Finally, I had enough. I tripped her and pushed her down onto the slushy asphalt. She landed on her ass and lay there, stunned. She was gaping up at me in confused stupefaction like I was an escapee from Shakopee Women’s Prison.
Cousin Candy, The Immaculate, had been tie-dyed from head to foot with muck and make-up. She looked like a scary clown.
I tore off Crookie’s hat and smacked her with it, “You damn, crazy whore.”
Tossing Luke’s sunglasses aside, I stood over her. My damp hair was all over the place and I pushed it back off my face with a forearm.
“ANABEL!” Candy’s voice was incredulous with disbelief. Her bulging, smeared eyes looked ready to pop out of her head. She must not have heard me mention the gun over her own screeching cries. “Why are you doing this? What is wrong with you?” Candy screamed up at me.
I laughed shortly. “Wrong with me? That’s rich.” I brought up a fist, so tempted to start bashing in her face that I could practically taste it.
Candy read the fury in me and scrambled away until she could go no further because her back was flush against the mountain of snow.
“You better leave me alone!” Candy spat in warning, but her quavering voice gave her away. Like all pathological sociopaths, lift the rock and you’ll find a coward when confronted head on. She did her dirty deeds behind the scenes or under the cover of a crowd. Her parents have always protected Candy from any repercussions of her malicious stunts. If my suspicions were correct about her long ago pet puppy, the sick bitch has even gotten away with murder.
Her face took on a crafty look resembling a cornered rat and she threatened, “Wait until NanaBel hears about this, you fucking maniac. She’s going to stroke!”
That did it.
I dove on her. Replaying in my head were all the times I wanted to get revenge on her for doing something horrific to me throughout the years. I had refrained out of my love and respect for my grandmother, or because I’d been forcibly removed from Candy’s vicinity. Today we were the only two around. Instinctively, I was sure Luke would keep a lookout. This time, nobody was going to stop me from kicking her ass.
I landed with a flying forearm smash on her chest, knocking her back down onto the pavement. That’s all it took to be straddling her. Around tight fistfuls of her hair, my hands gripped either side of her head. She gasped for air while bucking and ineffectually kicking her legs. She scratched at my arms and hands with her claws. Her kicks couldn’t reach me, my coat did a good job of protecting my arms, and I was too furious to feel any pain if she scored a scratch on my hands.
I smacked her head smartly on the slushy pavement. It was enough to stun her. “Listen to me carefully, Candy McKenzie.” I smacked her head again. “Are you listening?”
When Candy didn’t answer fast enough to suit me, I bounced her head a third time and shouted, “Are you?”
“Yes, yes, I’m listening…quit hitting me…and pulling my hair. That hurts!” She whimpered piteously, but staring up at me malevolently with eyes ringed in thick circles of black.
“Here’s how life is going to be from now on, Candy.” I got in her face so there would be no mistaking my sincerity. “You will never enter my store or my apartment again.” I shook her head for emphasis. “You are no longer a part of my family.” I pulled her hair so hard, she cried out in real pain. “You will NEVER tell NanaBel anything or bother her in any way. You will make up excuses anytime MY grandmother wonders why you don’t come to some family function at MY home.” I banged her head off the ice. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, yes!” Candy screamed back, drumming her pumps like pistons against the wet cement. Her hands were on my wrists trying to alleviate the painful hold I had on her stiff hair. “I won’t tell! I won’t say a word!”
“If we run into each other, you will cross to the other side of the street and not speak or look at me.” I yanked hard and pulled out strands of hair by the roots, ignoring Candy’s crying screams to stop. “And you won’t EVER mess with anyone or anything I care about again,” I grabbed her ear and twisted it painfully without remorse while promising, “or I will hunt you down and make you wish you’d never been born.”
Our faces were inches apart. “You know my swear to Gods are gospel, don’t you?”
Her eyes were wide. “Yes!” Tears were flowing copiously down her face and intermingling with the snot from her nose, but she was nodding convulsively in agreement at every word coming out of my mouth. Candy really hated getting her face wet and her hair pulled.
“You fucked with my gun and you fucked with my boyfriend.” I saw her eyes flare briefly in confusion before the expression went flat and she nodded even faster. “You will never fuck with me again or I swear to God, I will fuck you up permanently.”
I sat up and regarded the sniveling mess of a woman lying under me. I felt nothing but the sickest despair. If I had anything in my stomach, I’d probably barf. Candy should be a great friend and someone I love. Instead, this woman was my bitterest enemy. I wouldn’t be stupid and ever forget this fact. She would always be a poised knife at my back.
I stood, picking up Crookie’s hat as I rose. She didn’t move. Understanding I was leaving, Candy got some control over her emotions. She wiped her nose and glared up at me with fearful hatred. As long as she remembered the fear first, I was okay with the hatred.
I smacked the hat hard against my leg to clean off the sludge and Candy flinched at the sound.
“If you think for one moment about coming after me some dark night, or paying someone with Daddy’s money to do your dirty work, you’d better think twice.” Candy stared at me sullenly. I smiled widely and it was nasty. “Hear me on this, you’d better pray to whatever god a conniving bitch like you believes in that I stay real healthy and happy. Anything happens to me, and you are going to be in a world of permanent pain the likes of which no amount of cash will ever be able to fix. I swear to God to you one last time, you will feel this pain.” I nodded in satisfaction at her comprehension of my warning and my promise.
Candy hissed, “And you call me a sociopath.” She impatiently threw back straggling, wet hair out of her face and jeered, “What are you, Anabel? Huh, what are you?”
Ignoring her taunts, I spoke matter-of-factly. “I know you consider yourself smarter than everyone, Candy, and some sort of superior being. So be smart. Stay far away from me and mine. This is your only warning. You seriously do not want to find out what I am.”
I don’t know if it was the factual sincerity in my tone or the look in my eyes, but Candy nodded once in brief acknowledgement before lowering her eyes.
Believing me was a very wise choice for Candy to make because everything I said was the truth. In my store during the snowstorm last Monday, I spent hours letting my mind ruminate over the problem of Candy McKenzie and how I wanted to handle her. I spent fifteen minutes yesterday putting my decisions into action, and another five minutes arranging the cash to pay for it. She would truly regret messing with me if she chose to be stupid.
Picking up Luke’s sunglasses, I tiptoed on frozen feet across the slushy parking lot to the passenger side of the truck. Looking up from the ground and my dark thoughts, I came to a halt. Luke was leaning against the hood of the truck with his arms crossed. He must have seen quite a show, maybe even heard some of our shouts and screaming words. I couldn’t read his shuttered expression.
I tucked the sunglasses into Luke’s jacket pocket. Without a word, Luke opened the truck door and lifted me up inside.
Thanking him quietly, I put both of my cold hands up to my mouth and blew on them to warm them up. I was shivering with the after effects of adrenaline. Now that it was over, I was bummed that Luke had been around to witness me involved with mayhem for the fourth, or was it the fifth, time in as many days. Shakily, I wound my wild hair up under Crookie’s hat again--just for something to do.
Luke leaned in the open passenger door and our eyes were level. His were concerned as he checked me o
ver efficiently for signs of injuries, or maybe it was for signs of insanity. We both turned our heads at the sound of Candy’s car peeling out of the parking lot behind us.
I sighed loudly. Mainly in relief at having delivered the message to Candy to stay out of my life, but also with despondency that I was fast turning into a woman who could no longer be described as a girly-girl. Even I could admit I was kicking way too much ass lately to be considered ultra-feminine. I felt a tear welling in my left eye.
‘Oh, butch up, Junior! It’s not like you can’t go put on a lacy dress and a hair bow and suck on a lollipop.’ The strident voice of the mean mommy was bracingly welcome for a change and I determinedly shook off my depressing thoughts.
“Hey, Princess,” Luke murmured, putting a finger under my chin and lifting my head up. His magical thumb carefully wiped away the single tear rolling down my cheek and he kissed me softly, our lips clinging. I felt a wild urge to cling my whole body to his. It would be a relief to feel safe and protected by a man for once, and let him do all the worrying and beating up that seemed to be necessary in my life lately. If any man could do it, it was Luke. But then, I’d be just another clinging, dependent woman in his life wearing dresses because she was told to, and not because she loves to.
Pulling back, he said, “I promise your cousin is no longer welcome at my farm. You didn’t need to beat the shit out of her to convince me.”
I dissolved into a soggy heap of surprised giggles and Luke’s dimple flashed.
“Seriously, Anabel, was that,” he motioned over to the looming snow mound, “about her being at my house and you thinking I was with her the other night?”
I stared at Luke in slack-jawed wonder at his arrogance. Then I caught the gleam in his eye and I swiped at his arm while his deep laughter filled the truck.
“The pro wrestling move was outstanding!” He gasped out, leaning against the door with one arm holding him up as he continued to laugh. “I never figured you for a WWF girl.”
“Thank you.” I responded primly. “I’m not a fan, but NanaBel loves wrestling.” Making a face, I admitted, “It must have been osmosis because I had no idea I even knew a move like that!”
This set Luke off again, but he sobered up after a few seconds. “You’ve got to be frozen. Here, give me your feet.”
When I complied, he stripped off the wet socks. He rubbed each foot vigorously while I sat silently and watched his face as he concentrated on his ministrations. After he buckled me in, Luke looked up and the scowl line was between his black brows. His green eyes were no longer dancing.
“What?” I asked, anxiously.
“Aren’t you going to tell me why Cousin Candy did need such an impressive pounding?”
I smiled nervously. Sometimes, I forgot who knows what about everything that has happened over the last few days. I do know Luke and I still haven’t had ‘the talk” he’s been threatening me with since Saturday night. I was pretty sure he didn’t know about Mike McClain, or the stolen gun.
Dredging up my past love life history was not something I do. I preferred to keep my life compartmentalized. I like each area staying neatly in its assigned place. Mike McClain was one area and Luke Drake was another. I could think of no logical reason why they should overlap.
I could agree that beating up a family member in a public parking lot does beg some explanation. Otherwise, Luke couldn’t be blamed for thinking I truly was a wackadoodle. Lately, I find myself craving Luke’s good opinion and approval. This realization brought me up cold and made my gut seize up in painful clench. I knew what this meant and the implications stirred up dread.
By the cool gaze Luke was directing my way, I saw that Mr. Secretive thought I was taking too long to answer.
“Sure. Umm, do you want to get food first and I’ll tell you…”
“No, right now works for me.” Luke stated firmly, closing my door a little harder than I thought necessary. He got in behind the wheel and started blasting the heat to thaw out my icy tootsies. Slinging an arm across the steering wheel, Luke waited with a raised brow.
Gratefully, I thanked him and squared my shoulders. I wasn’t used to explaining my actions or the motives behind them, but this was Luke and I liked him.
‘Okay, okay, I like him a lot!’ I confessed before the voices could really start complaining. They still started rumbling ominously, so I added in teeth-clenched annoyance, ‘Jesus, alright already! I am wildly, sexually infatuated with him due to an inexplicable chemical reaction. There! Are you all satisfied with that prostration?’ That worked to quiet them down and I scoffed at what a royal pain they all were sometimes.
Luke was studying me with amused fascination.
I threw out my hands and started talking.
I told him a condensed version of growing up with Candy. I told him how she stole my gun last week. I told him what I have told nobody else and what has me worried. I told him that I have no idea what Candy really did with my gun when in her possession, but that several bullets were missing. I told him that after she returned it, I fired this gun on Saturday night. I don’t know yet if any ballistic tests were ever completed on a police record, since Chief Jack has been hiding like a baby from me. I told him Candy was no longer considered my family. I told him there was another reason, but that story wasn’t mine entirely to tell. I told him that he’d understand this issue since he had explained it to me so well only an hour before in regards to honoring Svettie’s privacy.
When I was done telling him, Luke was still studying me with fascination, but the amusement was long gone.
How could I tell him about Mike and Candy? Mike was no longer The Betrayer. Yet, we had broken-up all those years ago because of Candy, which was common knowledge. Candy didn’t know Mike planned on pursuing vengeance through the legal system. Telling Anna, Crookie, and Reg on Sunday night about Candy drugging Mike was one thing. They know me, they know Mike, and they all have my back. Jazy and Mac don’t know any of the details, but they do know Mike and I were friends again. Telling anyone else, even Luke, was either making Mike look like a cheating asshole or telling his private business. Poor Mike was opening the door to getting a whole lot of crap when he sued Candy for date rape, especially from men. I wasn’t going to be a party to hanging him out for public ridicule.
Luke seemed preoccupied and didn’t ask me any questions. He drove over to McDonald’s drive-thru saying only, “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”
I slumped back in my seat and muttered, “Order me a hash brown, please. I doubt potato farmers can do anything too deviant and I don’t give a damn about pesticides right now. I’ll worry about them tomorrow.”
Luke grinned. “Okay, Scarlett O’Scara.”
I could only laugh at his reference. ‘Was there nothing this man didn’t know?’
Chapter VI
“That’s What I Like About You” by The Kinks
Wednesday, 11/21/2012
7:55 AM
“Hey, Luke, can I ask you a personal question?” I hungrily watched his strong throat work when he devoured my potato cake in two bites. The greasy smell was maddening, but my convictions were stronger than I thought.
“Shoot, Princess.”
“What’s your opinion on cheating?”
“I’m a pastor’s son. Cheater’s never prosper.” He grinned roguishly, pulling the truck up in front of my building. “You mean between men and women?” When I nodded, he went on, “My parents are devoted. My mother would literally cut Dad’s balls off if he even thought of cheating.” He laughed, “The only time I have ever seen my dad really lose it was when some punk lawyer my mom worked with got wasted and was seriously putting the moves on her at a picnic. Dad put him down with a couple of punches and had him carried out of the party. Then he got a beer. Then he carried my mom out of the party and I rode home later with a neighbor.”
I smiled in genuine amusement. “That’s a wonderfully violent story of faithfulness. What about you?”
&
nbsp; After a pause, Luke shrugged one negligent shoulder and responded, “I’ve never told a woman I’d be faithful, so it’s never been an issue.”
Sitting up straight, I felt some of the dread clenching up my stomach ease at his words. “Really, never? Is it fair to say you’re the commitment-phobe type?” I asked eagerly.
Luke’s face was wary. “I’m saying that I haven’t ever told a woman I’d be faithful.”
I nodded in pleased satisfaction at his answer, my dark cloud of dread positively dissolving at Luke’s statement. The confirmation he wasn’t going to pursue me as his girlfriend when I’m so vulnerable due to being insanely infatuated with him is an indescribable relief. Worrying a guy may take me wrong and think I want a relationship makes me shy away from being totally myself. I’m not out to hurt any man’s feelings, or their tender ego. Rejection sucks, no two ways about it, so I stay away rather than cause those feelings when I know I don’t want a man for keeps. Luke being Batman and invulnerable makes him my perfect date.
Laughing lightheartedly, I teased, “You’ll probably fall really hard when you do. I bet you’ll go do something completely out in left field over that woman. Control freaks like us do crazy things when they finally let go, or so I’m told.” I leaned towards him and whispered confidingly, “I’m petrified I’ll get a man’s name tattooed on my ass. If I ever do that, I am doomed for life and will start shopping for that pair of claw foot tubs.” I shuddered. “I hate needles!”
He laughed, his eyes glinting. “Once again, I am petrified right now that I know what you are talking about. A tattoo is your commitment Waterloo, huh? Out of curiosity, what do you say mine would be?”