Wreck Me

by J. L. Mac

  “Let’s get out the water is getting cold.” I uncoil myself from around him and grip the side of the tub to get out.

  “Oh fuck! Shit, shit, shit,” I cry as I realize the mistake I have made.

  “What’s wrong?” I want to cry. I was so dumb. I got into the tub with my mother’s watch on and the second hand is not ticking. I don’t cry much, but tears pool in my eyes and my chin quivers.

  “Jo, what’s wrong?” Damon’s voice is stern and it snaps me out of my pitiful daze. I look at him and tears stream down my face. Fuck I won’t forgive myself for this. It’s all I have of Maman’s. She was so proud of it. Papa gave her this watch for their one year anniversary. She told me he worked a second job for months to save for it. She wore it with pride and he knew his hard work was worth it. Now it doesn’t work and I don’t know if it can be fixed. Even if it can be fixed I can’t afford to pay for repairs right now.

  “My watch,” I say weakly through tears. He reaches out and takes my wrist in his. He examines the watch for a moment then I know it must be broken because his face goes blank. Fuck my life. He releases the delicate clasp and examines the watch closer. He flips it over. Sometimes I forget about the inscription on the underside of the watch. It says “Collette, my heart resides with you forevermore.” It’s in French and even though my French is rusty I can still read it and speak it decently. Damon looks at me and pity fills his eyes. I know the look. I hate that look but somehow coming from him doesn’t quite feel like pity. It feels like understanding and I let it go. My mother’s ruined watch is my only concern at the moment.

  “What does it say?” he asks on a whisper.

  “Collette, my heart resides with you forevermore,” I say weakly while tears continue slipping down my cheeks. He nods and looks to me.

  “What did you say your last name was again I will have this fixed. They will need to know the name of the owner.”

  “Geroux. My full name is Josephine Lisette Geroux.”

  “I’m going to make this right. I promise you, Josephine.” I don’t bother correcting him about my name. I am completely entranced by the sincerity and emotion written across his features. He reaches behind me and enfolds me in a plush towel. He slings one around his waist and leads me back to his bedroom. I glance at the clock on his nightstand and it reads 12:26 am. How in the hell have I been with him for over six hours already? He peels back the comforter on his sinfully comfortable bed and says nothing as he lifts me beneath my arms to place me on the mattress. I don’t protest. I have no fight tonight. I feel beaten down by the day I have endured. Damon slips into the bed beside me and tugs me too him. I lay my head on his shoulder and cry. I allow myself a measure of self-pity for my shitty day. Sixteen years have passed since I lost my world. I have fought and been strong every day since then. That’s exactly five thousand eight hundred forty days of fighting and being strong. I know because I have counted the days since the accident. It’s another habit I can’t kick. So, today, day five thousand eight hundred forty, I will feel sorry for myself and let Damon feel sorry for me too.

  “I’m going to make it better.” I sniffle and swipe the tears from my cheeks.

  “I promise I am not a big whine bag. It’s just…it’s all I have left.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’ve been gone for sixteen years today. My mom’s watch is all I have of them and I ruined it like an adolescent idiot. I knew it wasn’t waterproof. My mom always took it off when she did the dishes. I remember that.” Damon rolls me to my back and scoots down the bed to kneel between my legs. I lay naked before him in tears and he doesn’t seem to be bothered. He picks up one foot and kisses my instep. I shiver as a zap of electricity races through me. He kisses my ankle and another zap goes racing through my nerve endings. He begins dropping a trail a tender kisses up my legs. He stops at the scar on my shin.

  “How did you get this?” he asks as he stares at the ugly reminder of the accident.

  “I have the asshole who killed my parents to thank for that. I was in the backseat when we were hit head on. I had a compound fracture of my leg.” He inhales deeply and looks at me. Anger flashes in his eyes for a moment and it seems so out of place. He has no reason to be angry. I am the one with the fucked up scar and the dead parents. He raises my leg and presses his lips to my scar, then rests his forehead against the ugly reminder.

  “I know you don’t want to hear it but I have to say it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His sincere apology causes a new round of tears to fill my eyes and spill over. He comes back to my side and envelopes me in his solid arms. I lie naked and physically as well as emotionally spent in his grip. I don’t give him shit for the apology. I can’t. His words were the definition of genuine and I can’t be upset with him for it.

  “I should probably go home soon.”

  “No. Stay with me tonight.”

  “I have never sta-”

  “Doesn’t matter. Stay with me.”

  “Okay.” I feel his chest deflate and I am positive that he is content with my answer. My sobbing ebbs away and I drift off to sleep in Damon’s bed completely unsure of what the fuck I have gotten myself into.

  It’s so loud. My ears ring and the background noise is muffled. Damn, I’m aching all over. I can hear sirens. Wait. Sirens? What’s happened? Fuck. My heart beats wildly in my chest and my breathing is erratic. I’m panicking and I have no idea what’s going on. I need to check my body. I look down and see blood. It’s everywhere. It’s all over me. My hands are stained crimson and I run my hands over my body to see where I am wounded. But nothing. I am not wounded. It’s not my blood. I look around, but everything is blurry. Where am I? I rub my eyes and my vision clears enough to see two figures in the distance. Maman and Papa. It’s them! Maman! Papa! I scream for them, but I don’t think they hear me because they haven’t stopped. Maman! Papa! Please! Don’t leave me again! Please! Don’t go! They won’t stop. They keep walking away and I am reduced to nothing. I fall to my knees and plead. “Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. Please stay. Come back!” My shoulders slump forward in defeat as I watch their figures disappear in the distance like a taunting mirage. I lurch back and forth with painfully intense sobs that rip through me leaving a quaking wounded soul in its wake.

  “Come back to me. Please. Please. Please.” I startle and jolt awake when I feel strong arms tangle around me.

  “Fuck, Jo! You scared the shit out of me. You had a nightmare. You’re okay now. It’s not real.” I shake in his embrace and work on calming my breathing and pulse. He has no clue just how real my dream was. I wish I could agree with him and say that it’s not real, but it is. My parents are still dead and I am as alone as a person can be. I have no family or friends. Only Sutton’s old ass and now Damon and I am not even sure what the hell I agreed to with him. He turns me to face him and wipes sweat from my brow with his thumb.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  “You’re okay, Jo. Go back to sleep.” He turns me back to my other side and pulls my back to his chest again. He tucks me under his arm in a protective manner and it’s a magic cure. In this position with him I feel safe. My eyelids are heavy and I give into slumber.

  I wake up to my phone chiming. “Shut up.” I groan and cover my head with my pillow. The phone silences and begins ringing all over again. I leap from the bed and instantly remember where I am. The luxurious carpet beneath my bare feet is my first reminder. Shit, I’m naked. I snatch up my annoying cell phone first. “Hello?” I snap down the line.

  “Jo, I need you in early today. I have some things I need you to get done right away.”

  “What could you possibly need done right away?”

  “We are liquidating. It’s done.”

  “No! You can’t give up yet. We can figure it out!”

  “I can’t afford it. We have to crate up inventory and start selling it off. Store’s done. I’ll see you shortly.” Sutton hangs up on me
before I can utter another word. I crawl back into the empty bed and cradle my head in my hands. Where is Damon? I can’t think about Damon right now, I have bigger issues at hand. Fuck. This is really happening. It’s over. The store is really going to close. What am I going to do? No one is hiring right now. I’d be lucky to get a job flipping burgers or cleaning toilets. There’s another book store close to my place, but it’s a giant chain store and they would never hire me. I don’t kiss ass, make coffee, or act bubbly like some cheerleader. I damn sure don’t believe in that saying that ‘the customer is always right.’ That’s a steaming pile of horse shit and I refuse to deal with it. If some jerk off wants to argue with me about something that I know he is wrong about I am going to tell him. If some ladies kid is clowning in the store and knocks something over causing damage, guess what? Mommy of the year is going to pay for it. I get that it is good business etiquette to kiss ass when necessary, but I just can’t. It isn’t in me. No one will hire someone like me. I’m too rough around the edges. I don’t have a college education. I have a lousy GED and that’s it. I am so royally screwed. I snap out of my thoughts when I feel eyes on me. My eyes zero in on Damon standing in the doorway of the bedroom staring at me.

  “What’s wrong?” I grab the sheet and quickly wrap it around myself.

  “I have to go. My boss called. He needs me in early. I guess we’re liquidating inventory. The store is closing.” I scan the room for my clothing and spot them on the floor. Damon remains standing in the doorway in black pajama pants that draw my eyes to all the right places on him. His chest is bare. His hair is a beautiful sloppy mess of dark brown locks. He looks perfect and the memory of that amazing cock buried within me sends a shiver down my spine. He walks towards me and climbs in the bed. He pulls me down to my back and wraps his arms around me before hauling me to his chest. I think he likes me in this position. I huff in exasperation. I really don’t have time for cuddling bullshit. Sutton needs my help to end the only good thing in my life. Wonderful. Just fucking grand. I hate this. I can’t stand the idea of it being sold and turned into some cookie cutter yogurt shop or tanning salon.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “I can’t. I have to get over there.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Dammit, fine. We have been struggling for some time. I knew it was coming, I was just holding out a little hope that things would turn around you know? I have some great ideas that might help our profit margin. Or lack thereof. Well, anyway, Sutton has to sell the inventory and close down. He can’t afford to stay in business open any longer.” Tears sting the backs of my eyes and the lump in my throat builds. What the hell is wrong with me? I never cry this much. I glance to Damon and he appears to be digesting what I have said.

  “So you’re unemployed now?”

  “Gee thanks asshole. Don’t lessen the blow on my account.” He chuckles and nods.

  “Okay, you’re right that was rude. It’s the business part of me. Don’t worry about it, Josephine. It will all work out.”

  “Hmph!” He would say that shit to me right now. It’s just like all those damn volunteers use to say. “Don’t worry. Things are going to work out.” I don’t need or want to be fed some line of bullshit. It doesn’t make me feel any better and it damn sure doesn’t change the bottom line. It only pisses me off. Things never just work out on their own. If things work out for me it will be because I did what I had to do to change my life. That’s the bottom line. There is no genie in a lamp, no lucky penny found, no magical wishing wells. All that shit is a fairy tale that I won’t buy into. The store closing is a problem, but I will just have to find a way to manage. I have done it before, I will do it again. I will be okay. I peel myself from his arms and carry about dressing myself minus one pair of destroyed panties.

  “I really have to get to the store.” Damon looks less than happy about me leaving. That’s the last thing I need right now.

  “Promise you’ll call me once you get out of there.” He is a bossy ass in and out of bed. But, I have to admit that it’s hot. There is something sexy about his commanding style. Maybe it’s because it’s new to me. That’s it. I like it because this is my first experience with a man like this. I don’t feel so uncomfortable with my strange feelings toward him now. It’s new and exciting is all. I will get over it in a day or two and his bossy attitude will be annoying and short lived. This works. I’ll play along with him, for now.

  “I would call, but I don’t think I have your number.” A sly grin spreads across those soft lips of his and it spells out mischief.

  I grab my cell phone and scroll through my extremely short list of contacts and there it is. It’s the only “D” in my list of contacts. He has given me his cell number, office number and email. Wow. I nod my head up and down as I observe the info he has input into my phone.

  “Okay. I guess I do have your number.” I glance at him and half smile. “I’ll call you when I’m free.”

  “Howard has your keys at the security desk.” I have clothed myself and I am prepared to endure my walk of shame when I feel his arm hook around my waist and pull me to him. He turns me by my shoulders to face him.

  “Call me,” he murmurs. His lips press against mine and my knees instantly go weak for him. Oh these lips feel incredible pressed to mine. I will definitely want more of Damon. I don’t feel so skeptical about agreeing to see him anymore. I am really liking what he does to me. I can’t walk away after just one night. Not just yet.

  I walk through the door and hear the familiar dinging of the old silver bell above the door. I walk three steps into the store and see nothing but packing crates and tissue paper. The sight of it all drives it home that we are closing and it makes me angry with everything. “Son-of-a-bitch!” I spin around on my heels, sweep three fat hard backs from the closest shelf and stack them on the floor in front of the door. I step up on them and snatch the familiar silver bell down with force. The thin leather strap it hangs from snaps and I dust off the bell before shoving it into my bag. I’m pissed. Sutton may have the power to close up shop, but dammit I am taking this fucking bell!

  “I called you an hour and a half ago. ASAP means as soon as possible. Where have you been?”

  “Thank you for clearing that up for me Captain Obvious. I was banging this guy I may or may not know.” I answer honestly in the most flat, indifferent tone I can conjure up. Fucking nosey ass Sutton really knows how to pluck each and every one of my nerves. He scoffs and navigates his thin frame between two tall stacks of boxes.

  “I have a buyer for about two-thirds of our inventory so we need it boxed, labeled and ready for delivery by the end of today.”

  “Great,” I draw out feigning excitement. He is undoubtedly going to go lounge in his office where he will likely snooze for most of the day while I bust my ass to get this gargantuan amount of books packed up. The bastard could at the very least get the labels done while I do the lifting and packing. But, that’s Sutton for you. Grumpy. Lazy. Asshole. We tolerate each other but most days he makes me feel like some pesky annoyance and I do my best to make him feel ancient. We are two birds of a feather really. We work well together. Truth is I guess I am just as pissy and grumpy as he is. It has got to be why he won’t hire anyone else. I don’t think anyone could work for him anyway. If he hired help for me they would quit the first day. Once they got a dose of both of us the poor sucker would high tale it to the nearest therapist. I can be just as rough as Sutton I guess. I don’t even realize when I am doing it. Sutton will come to me, and remind me of how much of a raging bitch I was to a customer, and honest to God I don’t mean to. It’s a natural kind of royal bitchiness I suppose. I don’t mean it, and sometimes I feel bad about it. I try to tone it down, but I am just one of those generally unhappy people. If you’re looking for lollipops and rainbows while you shop for the latest best seller, you best not come to me. I won’t chat you up and tell you how cute your kid is. I won’t smile and flirt. I won’t stroke your ego about the jew
elry you are wearing or the shirt you have on. I will help you find what you need. I will recommend books and hell I even talk about what I liked about one book over another but all that other shit is just not my thing. I remember when I waltzed into the store to ask for a job. Sutton’s shiny bald head was barely visible from behind the counter and I waited for him to get up. He popped up from behind the counter and damn near had a fucking stroke. I guess he probably thought I was going to rob him or something. I looked like your typical homeless kid even though I did my best to clean up before I came to the store.

  “Geez, cool it chief. I’m not going to bite.” Sutton’s brow’s rocketed up his face at mock speed. I guess I surprised him with my mouth. It happens a lot.

  “And who the hell are you?”

  “Miss USA and you?”

  “Captain America. Can I help you?” I couldn’t help but giggle under my breath.

  “Fitting name. I want a job,” I state very matter of fact. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks at me like I have sprouted a second head right in front of his eyes.

  “And why in the hell would I hire a bum?”

  “I can tell you why. I love books. Probably more than you. I have likely read every book in here at this very moment. I can tell you authors names along with their works off the top of my head. I live in a book most days and dream of them most nights. I’m honest. I know how to work my ass off and I wouldn’t bail on you. Clearly I am in no position to throw away a steady job. Not hiring me would be a loss on your part Captain.”

  “Favorite author?”

  “J.D. Salinger.”

  “Catcher Rye huh?”

  “You got it.”

  “Fine. Your hired. But you have to clean yourself up more. I don’t want to smell you and neither do the customers. My granddaughter has left for college and she has old clothes in my attic. I can bring you some decent pants and shirts. Just this once though. Once you get your first pay check I’ll expect you to look presentable, girl.”