Loosen Up

by Robin Leaf

That little minx. The door was locked the whole time.

  Twenty Two

  “With a Little Help From My Friends” – Joe Cocker

  I floated back to my apartment, high on the killer orgasm I just received, thinking about what I would do in retribution. It has been my experience that the quiet ones are always a little freaky. Allison was right: this would take some planning.

  I stepped through my doorway, almost tripping over a box in my foyer. I picked it up and threw it on my couch, angry at it for trying to kill me. My plan included a shower and dinner, not dying due to whatever delivery Nate made.

  Twenty minutes later, I had my hair wrapped up in one of those twisting turban thingies (yes, I often succumbed to late-night infomercial buying with a side habit of frequenting eBay), my body wrapped in my tattered robe, and a leftover bowl of miso ramen on my lap. I stared at the offending box, wondering what I received. I hadn’t ordered anything in months, so that was out. Further inspection of the parcel showed no label or any indication of where it originated.

  Curiosity got the better of me, so I put my bowl on my coffee table and opened the narrow box. A piece of paper floated to the floor. I noticed it was a handwritten note; the handwriting looked familiar.

  This is to replace whatever might already be on your mantle. Loving you always, Jase.

  What a cheeky monkey. I knew he worried whether or not I actually put the fake version of his perfect cock on my mantle, but this place didn’t even have a fireplace. Plus, that model was nestled in its box in the back of my closet like one of those special keepsakes that people treasured but didn’t necessarily want on display. I wanted no one to see what I never got to see up close in person anyway. No, it was safely tucked away.

  I tried to pull the item out of the box. It seemed to be made of wood, and it was caught. I jimmied, jiggled, cursed… I even got my foot involved, pushing with it while pulling on the wood. All I did was jam it further.

  Fifteen minutes of my life was spent trying to coax that damn thing out of the box. Pride kept me from calling in the troops to help, even if I knew that any one of my bodyguarding neighbors would be here in a heartbeat if I sent up the distress signal. I was a determined woman, a woman possessed.

  Finally, I grabbed one of my kitchen knives to cut the box open. It was short but serrated much like a saw, so I knew it would get the job done. It worked, slowly dividing that damn thick cardboard in half, right up until it didn’t. It got hung up on something in the box. Frustration took over as I pulled harder with one good yank. I felt myself topple and reached out to stop my fall against the coffee table. The sharp pain in my thigh indicated that I had fucked up royally. I looked down to see the wooden handle of the small knife sticking out of my thigh.

  The. Fucking. Handle. Was. Sticking. Out. Of. My. Thigh.

  I knew better than to pull the knife out, so I weighed my options. My phone was on the bar next to the kitchen. Crawling was my only choice because standing with a fucking knife in my leg was not in my wheelhouse of stupid human tricks. Dragging my gimpy leg, each inch I moved felt like the knife wedged deeper into my thigh.

  Somehow, I instinctively knew where my phone was, grabbed it before total utter panic could settle in, and dialed.

  “Darla…”

  Once I heard his voice, the panic was free to move about my body. “Noah! I need… Help!” Spoken like a true damsel in distress.

  It all went back and forth from hazy to dark after that.

  I heard what sounded like a battering ram against the door and a herd of some large animals stampeding into my hallway.

  “Darla!” Noah called.

  I raised my hand. “Over here.”

  Three burly boys appeared in my vision, all with guns drawn, hovering over me, assessing the situation.

  “What the…” Fionn whispered.

  “Wow, Darla. Nice boobs. And there’s a knife sticking out of your thigh.” Bryan, the PhD.

  I looked down, and sure enough, my breasts were on display. I closed my robe. “The knife has been brought to my attention, B.”

  “And, there goes Fionn.”

  What sounded like a 200 pound wet towel landed on the floor behind me. I craned my neck to see Fionn lying in a mound next to the couch.

  “He’s always been a bit of a pussy when he sees blood.” Bryan walked over to his brother. “Hey, wake up,” he called to him while slapping him in various places.

  “Guys… knife… in my leg. Really hurts.”

  “It’s barely bleeding, Darla. And it’s on the outside of the thigh, so you’ll be fine.” He focused back on the heap that was his brother. “Yo, dumb arse. I need your help getting Darla to the car.”

  “I need to get dressed first,” I whined as Noah bent down to assess the wound.

  “I can help with that,” Bryan announced, wagging his eyebrows and attempting to knock Noah out of the way.

  “Go tend to your brother,” Noah grunted, pushing Bryan toward Fionn. He took off his belt and wrapped it around the top of my thigh. “Darla, you’ll be fine like you are.”

  “At least get me some underwear and a shirt,” I begged, attempting to reposition my robe so I wouldn’t flash Bryan any more than I already had.

  “No need to cover up, Darby,” Bryan snickered. “I already saw your boobs.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” Noah smiled at me, lifting me to set me on the couch, while Bryan disappeared into my room for a second. When he reappeared, he handed Noah my clothes and returned to his brother, now groaning on the floor. Noah handed me the shirt to put on while he knelt down before me to maneuver the underwear around my ankles, smirking as he pulled them up to my knees. “Well, this is different than the last time,” he whispered and held his hand out to help me stand.

  Bryan chuckled, but I wasn’t sure if he heard Noah or was laughing at his brother’s expense.

  “Now’s not a good time, Noah.”

  I gasped at the jostling from simultaneously trying to balance on my good leg while he tried to carefully manipulate the underwear around the handle, tapping the end of the knife. “Mother fucker!” I screeched through the stars floating in my eyes.

  Carefully, he scooped me up into his arms. “Sorry about that.”

  “What happened?” Fionn asked, zeroing in on the knife.

  Bryan caught him before he could faint again, turning Fionn’s face away from me. “Come on, Fionny, you gotta drive,” Bryan snickered.

  “Leave him, Bryan. You’re driving. Come open the door. Fionn, stay and get that box open for her, and clean up a little.”

  We made it to the hospital in ten of the longest minutes of my life. Every bump and turn felt like the knife was driven further into my leg. I was certain it was wedged in my bone.

  Everything blurred together after that.

  I remember arriving to the hospital, telling the hospital staff how I injured myself, getting an IV, but not much made sense.

  Doctors, nurses, and Noah floated through my consciousness, and I think conversations with all three took place.

  “There you are, Sweets,” my nurse, whose name tag said Rebecca, stated. “You’ve been asleep for a little bit. How’s your pain?”

  I blinked to try to focus. “I’m not sure yet.” I put my hand on my leg and felt a bandage. “The knife is gone.”

  “Yes, it was removed a couple of hours ago.”

  “Was it in my bone?”

  “Ha! No, Sweets. It was nowhere near your bone. The damage was minimal. You’ll be fine in a couple of weeks.”

  “It feels all sparkly,” I giggled.

  “The doctor numbed it up pretty good, so it doesn’t surprise me that it’s just now wearing off. It’ll probably tingle for a while. Once it wears off fully and we test your walking, you will probably be discharged.”

  “Good, but why does my head feel all floaty?”

  “That’s probably from the pain meds.” She snickered. “They seem to really affect you.”

  I closed m
y eyes. “Please tell me I didn’t say anything stupid.”

  “Oh, not stupid, but if anyone ever wants to know secrets, they only have to give you a touch of morphine.”

  “Mother of Zeus,” I groaned, “what did I tell you?”

  “You cried about a guy named Dex, so we asked your friends to come in. Then you said that Noah has a really big… well, you know. And how he is talented with his tongue. You even demonstrated.” She rolled her own tongue and smiled.

  “Oh, Beckie,” I groaned, “please don’t tell anyone what I said.”

  She laughed. “I won’t. Neither will the doctor, his intern, or the student nurse.” She patted my arm. “But I can’t guarantee your friends will stay quiet.”

  “Fuck,” I whispered. “Who?”

  “Noah, a blonde woman, the other guy who brought you in, and your co-star. Yeah, I tried to get you to stop talking by distracting you with questions about your show, but you were relentless.”

  I had potentially released the secret I swore I would take to my grave. Plus, Allison knew I had sex with Noah. I wondered what else I had divulged.

  “Beckie,” I whispered desperately. “Please tell me I didn’t say anything about Jase.”

  “Jase? I don’t remember a Jase being mentioned.”

  “No,” Noah said from the doorway. “You didn’t mention Jase.” He moved to the side of my bed. “And I explained the situation to,” he looked at Beckie, “Dakota.”

  “I’ll just give you two some privacy,” Beckie said as she ducked out of the room.

  “What did you tell Allison?”

  “That we had sex once before you became Charlene’s client.” He grabbed my hand. “I told her I was the one who ruined you for all other men.” He winked.

  “You did not!”

  “You’re right. I didn’t. But I was tempted.”

  I looked up at him. “Did she seem upset?”

  “No. But she did have to leave. She has to be on the set of that action movie early to coordinate the fight scene.” His smile fell. “However, Jase is freaked. I had to talk him out of flying here to see you with his own eyes. He would have risked…” he looked away. “He would have put a lot in jeopardy if I hadn’t talked him down. I promised him you would call as soon as you are able.”

  I nodded. “Okay, but I don’t want to be under the influence when I talk to him.”

  “Is it okay if I come in?” Dakota asked from the doorway.

  “Yes,” I smiled, “hi.”

  “Darby, Dakota and I decided that he ought to take you home to keep up with the pretense of your involvement. Bryan and I will follow behind as a precaution.”

  “Jeez, Noah, you act like I’m some sought-after Alister. No one cares enough about me to justify my bodyguards following. You and B go on home.”

  “You know, I would love to take your suggestion, but unfortunately, I don’t answer to you.” He winked and turned to leave.

  Dakota watched Noah walk away before sitting on the bed next to me. The look on his face could only be described as sheepishly curious.

  “Ugh,” I grunted and rolled my eyes, “just go ahead and ask.”

  “Did he really make you come five times in one night?”

  I felt my cheeks flame and threw the sheet over my head. “Fuck, Dakota, tell me I did not admit that to everyone in the room.”

  “You did. And he looked pretty proud of himself when you blabbed it.” He pulled the sheet off my head. “And obviously you and Allison hooked up.”

  “Well, you told me to hang out with her.”

  He smiled. “I’m glad.”

  “Why are you here and not with Brant and Anita?”

  “It would look bad if I wasn’t here with you, even if no one has gotten wind of it. My grandmother would have my head if she found out my girlfriend had an accident, and I wasn’t here to take care of her.”

  “Grandmother, huh? I’m guessing she’s scary?”

  “God, yes. That little Georgia woman is less than five feet tall and probably weighs a hundred pounds soaking wet.” As he speaks, I hear his southern accent plain as day. “She carries one of those flimsy Bibles, the ones with the red edging on the pages, and holds it to her chest like it’s her lifeline. If we were bad, she say we had the devil in us.” He changed his voice to imitate his grandmother. “‘You need an infusion of Jesus,’ followed by a whack with the Good Book.”

  “Oh my goddess, that’s hysterical. But I bet you weren’t bad, ever.”

  He smirked. “I just got really good at not getting caught.” He sobered. “That woman truly is a saint. She took me and my three crazy brothers in and raised us when our momma died.”

  “Your Nana sounds like a good woman.”

  He sighed. “I miss her.”

  “You should call her.”

  “It’s way too late. She would find a way to whack me through the phone if I called her now.”

  I sighed, thinking of the phone call I needed to make.

  “Kota, please don’t let me forget to call Jase when I get home. I don’t want to do it here.”

  He kissed my forehead. “Anything for you, Darby.”

  Twenty Three

  “Telephone Line” – Electric Light Orchestra

  I woke up the next day in my bed, my leg stiff and throbbing but otherwise usable. I had dreams of some short, black, grey-haired grandmotherly type chasing me with a Bible.

  I smelled coffee, which was weird since I didn’t own a coffee maker.

  I stood and took a few careful steps. It was uncomfortable but not painful, fortunately. Making my way to the kitchen, I heard singing.

  “Top of the midday to ye, Darby Lou,” Fionn announced. “I made coffee.”

  “So I smell,” I grumbled. Most of the people in this country insist their mornings include an infusion of that vile, bitter crap. I found myself hating it. If he brewed me a good strong tea, and I would have been all over it. Black sludge was not my thing. “Fionny, you know I adore you, but in what universe have you ever known me to drink coffee? Where’d you get the coffee maker?”

  He shrugged. “I had it delivered.”

  I shuffled my way to the couch. “You didn’t have to stay with me. I’m fine.”

  He clucked his tongue. “Ye know that wouldn’t fly with the boss. He wanted to make sure you were watched over last night. After yer boyfriend left, I drew the short straw.” He grinned.

  That boyish, Irish charm worked. I smiled.

  “As you can see, I’m fine. Go do your real job. I’m sure there are plenty of dudes and damsels that are more worthy and actually in need of your protection today.”

  He rounded the couch and thrust my phone in my face. “Call.”

  Oh, shit. I didn’t call Jase when I got home. I don’t even remember getting home, so I must have fallen asleep in the car.

  I snatched the phone and dialed. I don’t think it even rang.

  “Darla…” he breathed out raggedly.

  “I’m fine.”

  The sound of his sigh filled the silence.

  “And apparently, pain meds are not exactly my friends,” I added.

  “I heard.” I could hear his smile through his pained voice.

  “So, I thought my leg needed a hole in it.”

  He chuckled. “Clearly, you were wrong.”

  “Yeah, well, sometimes I do dumb shit, like try to open finicky boxes with kitchen knives and lose my balance.”

  “Please tell me this is not my gift’s fault.” I could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose.

  “I wish I could.” I shifted my legs around to rest on the couch. “Come to think of it, I never saw what was in that evil box of death.”

  “I can guarantee it was only the box that was evil.” He sighed. “I am so glad to hear you are okay, Darla Maize.”

  “Still with the middle name.”

  “Always.”

  “I…” I cleared my throat to stop myself from getting overly emotional. “I m
iss you. Do you have any plans to come visit soon?”

  “Sadly, no. I might be there for Christmas, but I will have to see.”

  “Business must be good if it has you so busy.”

  He sighed again. “Yes, well. I need to go. I have a… meeting.”

  Something in his voice made me suddenly fearful. “Jase, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Darla. I miss you, too, and I’ll call you soon. Let me know what you think of the gift.”

  The line went dead.

  As I stared at my phone wondering what just happened, Fionn tapped my shoulder. I looked up to see him gesture behind me.

  Holy mother of pearl.

  I stood and hobbled over to the wall where Fionn had obviously hung a rough wooden sign painted with bright colors that contained a hand-painted quote:

  It matters not who you love,

  where you love, why you love,

  when you love or how you love.

  It matters only that

  you love.

  – John Lennon

  “Fionn, do you think he made this?”

  “I don’t know, but I think I remember seeing initials on the back. Let me look.”

  He took it down and flipped the sign around. My eyes felt like they deceived me.

  J. P. H. 2008

  There it was, his initials and the year, in the same painted style as the most perfect quote he could have possibly chosen on the front.

  Well, I’ll be damned.

  I had to cry at the beauty of it.

  Fionn awkwardly moved closer, not sure what to do, finally opting to put his arm around me.

  “Don’t worry,” I sniffed and rested my head on his shoulder. “They’re mostly happy tears.” Wiping my face, I added. “But please, if you have figured out why love is so complicated, could you tell me? That’d be awesome.”

  His arm squeezed me to him. “I… uh… well, I’m not sure…”

  “Don’t worry, Fionny, it was a rhetorical question. See, I believe this is Jase’s way of telling me to open my heart.”

  As he turned me toward him, he tried to suppress his smile. “Wow, Lass. I’m flattered, but it’s against company policy to date clients.”

  “Ha! You wish, you big dork.” I looked back toward the painting, and my eyes filled up again. “He’s making it hard.” The tears spilled down my cheeks. “Shit, I just need a bath.”