Protector

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Protector Page 4

by Kate Stone


  Between licks, I asked if she had a condom. Without having to remove herself from my face, Lilly reached over to her nightstand and pulled one out and then put it on for me. As soon as she straightened back up, I lowered her hips to my pelvis and slowly pushed into her. Lilly and I both moaned as I pulled her hips all the way down. Moving her hips in an ellipse, I could feel myself building to orgasm, but I tried to shove the thought away, focusing on her.

  Lilly hovered over my face, pressing her lips to mine as her body flattened against me. Her skin on mine sent waves of pleasure coursing through me. As I bounced my hips into the motions, I could feel Lilly’s body stiffening. She made fists in the sheets next to my head and groaned into my lips. It sent me ascending to climax, my movements rapid, my shaft deep inside her. Lilly bit my lip and rolled us over so I was on top, wrapping her legs around my ribs. Keeping hold of her hips, I thrust into her rapidly as we kissed. Holding onto my shoulders, I could feel the force of her own release, and I came with her; continuing to pump slowly until we both came down from the high.

  Then, we collapsed. There was nothing but heavy breathing and a peppering of kisses. Something stirred in my chest, but I couldn’t place what it was when my head was swimming from hormones. It was something warm and fuzzy, and very real. After I had discarded the condom, I crawled back into bed and held her close to me. Neither of us were breathing normally yet, but there were smiles plastered over our sweaty faces.

  “I think I worked up an appetite. Let’s just lay here a while first,” I suggested, kissing her cheek. She agreed with silence, cuddling into my side. I relaxed into the all-encompassing feeling of contentment.

  Chapter Five – Lilly

  I stirred from my dreams to find warm limbs draped over my own. Prying my eyes open, I peered behind me to find a sleeping Wade, his hair freed from its usual bun and spilled over the pillow, the raven locks shimmering in the first light of day coming in through the window. Flashes from the night before played across the forefront of my mind, causing a blush and smile to spread across my face in rapid succession.

  Even though I felt as though I could have laid there for hours in the calmness of the morning, watching him sleep while also dozing in and out myself, it was my first day at my new job. Begrudgingly, I rolled onto my other side to look at my clock. I groaned, knowing I had to get up to start my morning routine so I didn’t have to rush around like a madwoman. Slowly peeling away from Wade, I tiptoed my way to the bathroom. When I stepped into the steamy shower, I almost screamed when I felt hands on my waist. Realizing it was only a sleepy-eyed Wade put all my fears to rest.

  We were in the shower for longer than we should have been, but nothing sexual took place. He held me and rested his head on the top of mine as I washed my body, occasionally peppering kisses on the top of my head. It wasn’t until I slipped from the shower to finish getting ready that he washed himself off. I dressed in my simplest and most professional skirt and blouse before heading downstairs to make some coffee.

  “How about I bring you some lunch today?” Wade offered as he sat at the kitchen table, pulling on his boots.

  “That’d be nice,” I smiled. “Are you working today?”

  “I have that meeting with my brother but other than that, I don’t think so.”

  “Well, maybe we can hang out tonight too. Watch a movie or something.”

  He peered up at me, something about his expression reminded me of a wildcat lurking in the shadows before it leapt for its prey. Standing up, he towered over me, “You mean to say you’re not sick of me yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  Hunching over, he brushed the hair from my face and kissed me. I loved the way his beard felt against my skin. Wade pulled back and nodded. “That sounds good. Let me get your number, so I can let you know if something happens and I’ll be late.” Handing me over his out-of-date cellphone, I punched my name and phone number into the contacts list. Moments after I handed it back to him, I heard my phone chirp. “You have my number too. I do take food requests, but if I don’t hear from you then I’ll surprise you.”

  We headed outside, Wade giving me one last kiss before he hopped into his truck. Before I could reach my car, I realized I forgot my coffee on the counter. Going back into the kitchen, something caught my eye from the window. Turning, I saw a German Shepherd digging at the tree Wade had just planted. Rushing outside, I cried, “Hey!” as I clapped my hands, doing my best to scare the dog away.

  The dog retreated to the hedges that separated mine and Tyler’s yard. Bending down to pack the soil back in, my brow furrowed at the sight of plastic sticking out of the ground. What in the world? I didn’t know as much as Wade about landscaping, of course, but I didn’t see the point in wrapping the roots in plastic. Was that what he did? Tugging at it, the packed soil gave way and out came a dense, softball sized package. It looked like just a ball of heavy plastic wrap, but as I peeled back the layers, a musty, potent smell hit me.

  “What the hell…?” I whispered to myself.

  As it realized the package was marijuana, a voice sounded over my shoulder, “I told you that guy was trouble.”

  I screamed and scrambled to my feet, the package dropping to the ground. Tyler stood just a few yards away, wearing a bathrobe with coffee mug in hand. My eyes couldn’t have been wider as I stared at him, refusing to look down at the drugs in my yard, wishing it didn’t exist.

  Tyler ambled forward, scooping the package off the ground. “Listen, you seem to be a standup gal with a good head on her shoulders. I know this wasn’t your doing. Don’t worry, I won’t go after that McIntyre punk either. This is your free pass, though. I’ll dispose of this. Going forward, think about who you’re inviting into this neighborhood. I know that in the city things are different, faster paced and a little rough around the edges. We are small town folk, you know? Kids play in the street after school and most of the people on this street go to the same church on Sundays. We don’t need Buster digging up drugs and running off with it.”

  I was so embarrassed I froze in place. My head filled with pressure, feeling as though it could pop. “I’m sorry, Tyler,” left my lips but the sound was so weak and disoriented that it didn’t feel like it came from me. Not much of what he was saying was sinking in or even registering. My only thought was that my next-door neighbor, the cop, just stumbled onto me pulling marijuana from my grass.

  “It’s fine, Lilly. Just trust me, all right? I didn’t want to fill your head with ideas. Part of me wanted you to find out for yourself so you didn’t think I was just trash talking. Hopefully this is proof enough. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. This stuff can lose you your job, you know.” Tossing it once in the air and catching it, Tyler gave me one last glance before heading back into his yard.

  I wanted to throw up, but I had no time to process all that just transpired. Locking my door, I headed for my car. Part of me wished the drive was longer, but it was only ten minutes. How in the hell was I supposed to shake all that in ten minutes and compose myself to act normal and eager?

  The answer: I couldn’t. I put on a fake smile and got through my orientation training without breaking down. There wasn’t a whole lot they needed to show me since I had interned in college at a CPS division. For the first year on the job my cases would be supervised and I would have an assigned mentor in the department who would approve all my case files and ride along with me to house calls.

  Once I was at my desk, every other thought was haunted by Wade and the marijuana buried in my yard. Every moment felt like an eternity as I waited for the lunch hour, prepared to confront him to get my answers so I could enjoy the rest of my day. However, just an hour before my lunch break, my phone got a text—it was Wade, cancelling the lunch plans. My brooding deepened.

  In the second half of the day, I rode along with a senior coworker, Debbie, to a house call. I was to stand back and just observe her process, another part of my formal training. My eyes scanned the p
icturesque home, the walls covered in professional photographs of their children, the floor appropriately littered with toys while everything else seemed to be in order. According to the report, however, the neighbor had heard children crying in the middle of the night. The nearest neighbor was over two hundred yards away. While everything looked normal on the surface, it didn’t mean everything was okay behind closed doors.

  Their son and daughter sat properly on the overstuffed couch with their hands folded in their laps. They had a hard time raising their eyes to meet Debbie’s and hadn’t once glanced in my direction. The dad, dressed in his Sunday best, perched on the edge of a recliner and leaned forward as he rambled to Debbie about how absurd it was of their neighbors to make a call on them and how he had never liked the neighborhood.

  The more time went on, the more it became clear to me that something was off in the dynamic of the family. While I wasn’t sure the dad had reached the point of hitting the kids or his timid wife, it was coming. Unfortunately for the family, there was no explicit reason for us to do anything but schedule a check on them in six weeks. As we rode back to the office, my mind reeled with all the possible outcomes of those six weeks. Would we come back and find bruises on the son that the dad would explain away as the result of children’s rough housing? Would the mother be away “visiting family” to conceal a black eye?

  I swallowed hard. This was what I had spent six years in college for. I had read a lot of case files for projects and had shadowed a social worker for an internship. I knew what to expect and I knew it was a hard job. Yet, as Debbie explained the follow-up process to me while driving us back, all I could think of was how maybe things did work better with Wade’s clubs version of vigilante justice. Maybe if the government didn’t frown upon citizens taking action, then little kids like the two I just met wouldn’t have to live every day in fear in the one place they should feel safe.

  The rest of the day I was in a daze, troubled by the thought of the Watchdogs and wondering if they were good for the community. If they could handle situations of abusers without being arrested themselves, then the town was safer. Were they drug dealers, though? I had no firm position on drugs but knew they were illegal and for my own sake, being a government employee, I couldn’t be associated with any sort of drug!

  I didn’t think my head was ever going to stop spinning. Thankfully, the end of the day came quicker than I thought it would. I hurried home, eager to satisfy my need to kick off my sensible wedges and lay down in bed. If the only way to turn my mind off was to sleep, then I would stay asleep until work the next day. As I approached my house, I saw that I would have no such luck. Standing on my porch in his landscape attire and jean vest was Wade.

  When I put my car in park, I laid my head on the steering wheel for a moment, allowing myself to groan. “No, no, no…”

  There was a tap at the window and I peered up to see Wade just on the other side of the glass with his winsome grin greeting me. It soon faded as he analyzed my face; I wasn’t sure if he could sense the dread or the betrayal, but I knew he could at least see that I was unhappy. Pushing open the car door in a rapid motion so he would have to back away, I hurried toward the house. “What’s the matter? Long day?”

  “You could say that,” I murmured. Wade caught up to me and began to step inside the house. Putting a hand on his chest to stop him, I realized I couldn’t look him in the eye. “I need time alone.”

  There were a few moments of silence while I stared down at his boot which was still firmly planted inside of the house. “You don’t have to talk about it, but I’m worried. I haven’t seen you like this—”

  “Maybe because you’ve known me three days,” I snapped. I heard the bitterness in my voice.

  His boots moved closer to me and I backed away, crossing my arms over my chest. “Tell me what’s going on,” Wade’s voice was serious, but calm and even.

  Biting my lip, I stared at a far wall while I tried to decide what to do. Was there a point in trying to hide it? All day long I wanted to confront him and to get answers, but now that it was my chance I was folding? Sucking in a deep breath, I finally raised my eyes to his, “A dog dug a massive package of marijuana out from under that tree you planted yesterday.”

  His head jerked back in shock, his brows furrowing. “You think I buried drugs in your yard? Lilly—”

  “How else would it have gotten there, Wade? I didn’t sneak out in the dead of night to put it there.” He closed the door and vigorously rubbed a hand over his mouth and beard. “So what, are the Watchdogs drug dealers too? When were you planning on telling me that part? What happened to you wanting me to make my own informed decision whether I hang around you? I have a government job, Wade. I can’t be caught with that stuff!”

  “I can promise you—no, I swear to you—I did not put drugs in your yard, Lilly. I have no reason to do that. Why in the hell would I do that?”

  “You’ve told me more than once how you guys are at war with local law enforcement, so I’m guessing you put it there to hide it and come back later. Maybe they are hot on the Watchdogs’ trail.”

  Something touched a nerve, a real rage ignited in his eyes. The once tropical pools then looked more like the blue of a flame. He tried to compose himself, walking over to the kitchen table and sitting down. I followed but I stood back with my arms still crossed. Wade kicked a chair out and motioned for me to sit. “Come on, let’s calm down and I’ll tell you anything, okay?”

  I hesitated but then sat down, seeing no harm in doing so. Once again, I thought back to my dad and how he would be infuriated if he knew I was hanging around Wade, let alone allowing him in my house after I discovered the drugs.

  Leaning forward, Wade rested an elbow on the table and wiped his mouth nervously again. For a moment it seemed like he was waiting for me to ask a question, but I remained silent. Eventually, he sat up straight and wrung his hands together. Looking me in the eye with so much intensity it made me squirm, he began, “Yeah, we’re involved in marijuana sales. The landscaping business isn’t profitable enough for us to survive, half of the county hates us so we don’t have enough clients. We have elderly members of the club that have medical expenses we have to pay for on top of just living day to day life.”

  “So you resort to selling drugs? Why not get day jobs?”

  “All of us have criminal records, and generally speaking the cops inflate the charges so we aren’t employable. It’s their way of trying to drive us out of town or make us give up. Besides that, the community still needs us. The people who support us depend on us to handle the problems that arise which the cops won’t touch. This is rural America, Lilly. While a lot of it can be wholesome, there’s also isolation. Isolation leads people to drinking and hard drugs, and they take out their frustrations on people smaller than them. I don’t know if it makes it better or not, but we act as a middleman between dealers in the city and the supplier. We have the time and resources to travel to pick it up. The only people in county we sell to are people who use it medicinally and a few middle-aged folks who use it to unwind. We also keep anything stronger out of the county, and we take that job very seriously.”

  “The glaucoma medicine…” I muttered, our time at the diner suddenly becoming crystal clear to me.

  He nodded. “We don’t push it on teenagers. I think the youngest person we sell to is in their early thirties. We don’t want to be a negative impact on the community, we want to help them, you know? Like I said, the group was founded on standing up for the underdogs by any means necessary. Our noses aren’t clean but they aren’t that dirty, either. I can promise you, Lilly, I did not bury that in your yard.”

  “Then who did?”

  “Well… whose dog was it that dug it up?”

  I gave him a look and scoffed. “There’s no way that Tyler did it, Wade. He’s a cop.”

  Wade nodded, “Yeah, a cop that has busted my boys more than once when making deliveries and might have he
ld onto some of it after the fact.”

  “He could lose his badge for something like that. You really think a cop would do that?”

  He rested a hand on my knee. “You don’t know how things work here yet, darlin’. This is exactly something they would do.”

  I shot to my feet, “Why would he put drugs in my yard just to get his dog to dig it up while he watches?”

  “To get you to turn on me. He doesn’t want me in his perfect little neighborhood, and he certainly doesn’t want the Watchdogs sniffing around his house.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Wade stood then, “Have you seen his wife yet?”

  “I don’t think he’s married.”

  “Oh, he is. His wife’s name is Kylie. We all went to school together. They’ve been married for about two years. Things seemed okay but for the past year, Kylie has hardly come out of their house.”

  “How do you know all this if you’re never in this neighborhood?”

  “Small towns talk.” He paced to the kitchen window and pointed through the trees to Tyler’s house. “I’m telling you, he’s married and he’s a lowdown monster. No one has been able to bust him because he hides behind that badge. Boys in blue don’t rat on boys in blue, either.”

  “So you’re telling me that the most likely narrative is my neighbor, a cop, held onto drugs that are illegal in this state and could cost him his badge, in hopes of one day being able to scare a potential neighbor from associating with you guys?”

  “They busted two of our guys just last night, Lilly,” he barked. “He probably saw an opportunity and took it.”

  My head was throbbing by that point, and I could no longer think straight. Wade was trying to sell me on a narrative that was so foreign to what I was used to. It sounded outlandish, and made it seem like he was the one that was lying. Putting my head in my hands, I took deep breaths in attempt to collect myself.

 

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