by Paula Cox
“I’m in a car and it is pouring rain. Mom! I’ll tell you all about it later, okay? Right now, I want to know what to do about it. About four weeks. Uh huh. Uh huh.” He looked at me. “Are you allergic to peanut butter?”
I shook my head no.
“No. That’s it? Okay. Thanks, Mom.” He punched a button and tucked the phone away. “You have any peanut butter at your house?”
“No, I don’t think so. Is that supposed to help with the morning sickness?”
“It’s worth a try. Mom said it worked for her. We’ll stop and get some on the way home. Smooth or extra-crunchy?”
The ridiculousness of the conversation got to me and I grinned. “Smooth.”
***
“Wait here,” he said as he wormed his way out of the car and into the rain.
I watched him splash through the puddles and into the market, returning a few minutes later with a bag. He opened the door and, after placing the bag behind the seat, stuffed himself into the car again.
“Lovely weather you have here,” he said mildly as he wrung the water from his hair again. “Love the car, too. I think I will get one when I get home. It’s so easy to get in and out of. Especially with the top up.”
I tried not to, I really did, but I burst into giggles.
“You think it’s funny?” he growled playfully then flicked water into my face from his fingers.
“Stop! You’re getting me wet!”
“Oh, damn! Did I? I’m so sorry.” He then twisted his head violently side to side, slinging water everywhere, like a dog shaking himself dry.
I shrieked and put up my hands to ward off the flying water as I tried to make like a turtle and pull my head into my shoulders. “Stop!” I squealed.
“There. That’s better,” he said as he started the car then grinned at me.
“For who?” I cried and then giggled again.
***
“Here,” I said as I tossed him a towel.
“Thanks.” He took the towel and dried his hair then patted it over the rest of his body, soaking some of the water from his clothes. I thought about offering him the use of my shower, and dryer, but I had to leave for work soon and I didn’t want to give him any ideas.
I pulled the peanut butter, bread, and apples from the bag. “So this is supposed to work?”
“All we can do is try it. It’s loaded with protein.” He pulled a wicked looking knife from a holder on his belt and quickly cut an apple into quarters.
“Second drawer,” I advised when he started opening drawers, obviously looking for a spoon.
He pulled out a spoon, opened the peanut butter and dipped some onto an apple quarter before handing it to me. “Give that a try.”
The moment the smell of the peanut butter hit me I could feel my stomach roll over. I tried to hand it back. “I can’t.”
He refused to take the offered piece. “Alex, you have to eat something.”
I held my breath and bit off the end of the apple. My stomach rebelled but I chewed it up and forced it down. I waited a moment to see if it would stay, and after a few dozen breathes I could feel the sickness beginning to fade. I scooped another dollop of peanut butter onto the rest of the piece and ate that, too. By the time I had consumed the entire apple, I was feeling better.
“Want another?” he asked as he pulled another apple from the bag.
“One more, I think.” The peanut butter-coated apple was the best tasting thing I had eaten in a long time.
The moment he had the first quarter sliced he handed it to me, I smeared it with peanut butter and wolfed it down. “What about you?” I asked around a mouthful of apple.
“I’ll get something later.”
When I returned from getting dressed, he handed me the grocery sack that had contained the bread, peanut butter, and apples. I looked into it and could see the last two apples, already quartered, and a sandwich, cut into bite-size squares.
“Remember what the doctor said. Eat often, anytime you feel like it. This should hold you for tonight. I will get more apples for tomorrow.”
His presumption annoyed me. “There won’t be a tomorrow.”
“We’ll see,” he said calmly.
“No. We won’t see, Cain.”
He looked at me a moment then sighed. “What’s the problem, Alex? Why won’t you accept my help? Help me to understand.”
“Because, Cain, I can’t trust you. It’s simple as that. You won’t tell me what you do, while at the same time you don’t seem open to change. The last thing I need is a drug smuggler, or whatever it is you do, in my life. Life is going to be hard enough without that.”
“Alex, I’ve told you over and over, I’m not involved in drugs. The Hounds are not involved in drugs. Drugs are a bad business and we want no part of that.”
“Yes you have. And yet, you won’t tell me what you do. How do I know you’re not lying to me?”
“You’ll just have to trust me, okay?”
“How, Cain? How can I trust you?” I cried, setting the bag on the counter and holding my hands out to him beseechingly. “You obviously don’t trust me since you won’t tell me anything about what you do. ‘I’m in the import business.’ Well, guess what? Drug dealers could say the same thing. If I accept you into my life, into our lives, how do I know that someday you won’t stop coming home because you have been killed or arrested? How do I know that one day the cops won’t show up and take my child from me because I’m suddenly an unfit mother because I’m involved with you? How do I know that some thug isn’t going to kick open my door and gun us all down because of what you do? How do I know—”
“I won’t let any of that happen!”
“And how will you prevent it, Cain? Kill them first?”
“We don’t kill people, Alex! It’s not how we operate. Alex, you are going to have to trust me on this.”
“And there is the crux of the problem, Cain. I can’t trust you, because you don’t trust me.”
“I trust you, Alex!”
“You do? Then tell me what you do.”
I could see him think it over. “I can’t. I gave my word. I can’t break it.”
I gave him a ‘there you go’ hand gesture.
“Alex, I give you my word. None of your fears are likely to come true. I can’t promise you that I won’t die. I could get killed riding away from your house tonight after being hit by a car. You could die on the way to work tonight. Any of us could die at any moment. There are no guarantees in life. But you are blowing the risks it all out of proportion.”
“Am I?” I asked quietly. “Did you know I was raised by my grandparents?”
“No.”
“Yeah. My dad was a Dallas police officer. He was killed in a car crash – him and my mother. I can still remember them. Officially, it was an accident. But my grandparents think it was something else. I was about seven when Granny and Grandpa had driven up to see me and to spending a few days with us. Grandpa told me Dad said was investigating some kind of smuggling ring. He didn’t tell them what, but a few days before he died, he told my grandparents that he had a big break in the case he was working on. I can remember him and Mom dancing around the house because he was so excited about it, though, at the time, I didn’t know what the big fuss was. Anyway, they were going out for Mom’s birthday, just the two of them, when a wheel came off their car. The car hit the center wall and flipped over, then they were hit by a semi. Dad died at the scene, Mom later in the hospital. I still have the newspaper clippings that my grandparents saved.”
“I’m sorry, Alex, I really am. But that just proves my point. Anyone could die anytime.”
“No. Don’t you see? They were killed because of what he knew, or what he was going to do. I don’t know. Don’t you find it suspicious that right after he gets a big break in his case that a wheel comes off? When was the last time you heard of a wheel coming off a car?”
“But you don’t know it was related to his job. The police don’t give
up on one of their own like that. It was probably just a terrible accident.”
I shook my head. “No. I can’t take that chance. I’m sorry, Cain, but I just can’t. You need to go. And don’t come back.”
“Alex…”
“Just go, okay? Please?”
I watch his face go hard and then soften as he accepted my demand. “Fine. I’ll go. But I can’t let this drop, Alex. I understand your fears, but you are worrying for no reason. You really are. We have to reach some kind of agreement on this. I can’t let you drag my kid into the kind of life I had. I just can’t.”
“You have no say in the matter.”
“We’ll see,” he said softly as he picked up the bag and handed it to me again before he turned and walked out my front door. Hopefully forever.
Chapter 7
“Jill! Can you cover for me a minute? I need a break.”
“Sure, Alex. You okay? You don’t look so good.”
“Stomach is a little upset, that’s all. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”
“Okay. Let me make a round then I will be right back.”
Jill, my relief bartender, moved off to do a quick check on her tables. The night had started out pretty good, but the longer my shift lasted, the harder it had been to stay focused. I had to tone down my routine, sticking with the stuff I could do in my sleep, simple flips and catches, for fear of dropping the bottles.
“Thanks. I’ll be back as quick as I can,” I gasped as Jill stepped behind the bar. I hurried to the back and dug in my locker, pulling out the plastic bag. I debated on apples or the sandwich for a moment, not feeling like eating either, but hoping that eating something would settle my stomach again. I opened the Ziploc bag and pulled out a couple of the apple slices. I felt my stomach heave over, but I stuffed the apple into my mouth and resolutely chewed and swallowed.
I damn near lost my battle with my stomach, running to the bathroom and standing over the toilet, swallowing convulsively, before the apple decided to stay down and I began to feel better. Finally, sure I wasn’t going to puke, I left the bathroom and ate the rest of the apple. Blowing out a great cleansing breath, I pulled the plastic bag out of the locker and, after folding it into as small of a package as I could, I took it with me back into the bar.
“Alex? Are you okay? You’re pale as a ghost and sweating!” Jill exclaimed as I relieved her.
“Better now,” I said softly as I tucked the bag away out of sight behind the bar.
“Are you sure you don’t need to go home? We’re a little slow tonight. We can manage.”
“No, no. I’m okay now. Thanks for covering me.”
Jill grinned at me. “No problem. It’s a nice break from all the grabby hands.”
I spent the rest of the night nibbling on the apple or the sandwich squares when I wasn’t busy with a client. Once I was over the hump and was eating something every now and again, I felt a lot better.
During my down time, munching on another piece of apple, I thought about all that Cain had said, especially about what it was like for him growing up. I didn’t want that for my child, but as I told him, I didn’t want to trade one problem for another either. I wiped my hands on my bar towel after I popped the last of the apple into my mouth.
The problem with Cain was that he was so damned charming – dropping me off at the door, standing in the rain so I didn’t get any wetter than necessary, finding out what might help me with my sudden onset of morning sickness. I could have asked Granny what to do, and probably still would, but he didn’t wait around for someone else to do it. It would be a lot easier to hate him if he were a complete asshole. But he wasn’t. He really did seem to be concerned for my well being.
But that was now. How about in a month? Two months? Nine months, when it really started getting hard? Would he be there then? I didn’t know. He could say he would, but talk was cheap.
I wouldn’t admit it, but it still bothered me a little that he left me after he got me pregnant. I knew he didn’t know, and I also knew it was just supposed to be a one night stand, sex with no strings attached, but it still hurt when I woke up alone in the room.
I wondered if what he said was true, that my biggest problem was my pride. Nobody had ever fucked me then just walked out on me like that. Maybe a little bit of it was my pride, but that didn’t change the fact that he was still a load of trouble. Maybe the Hounds didn’t sell drugs, but it was damn certain whatever they did, it was just as illegal.
I shook myself clear of my thoughts as Megan swayed up with an order. As I filled her order I made up my mind. Cain may have been hot as a two-dollar pistol, and sweet as a pecan pie, but he was still trouble. He had caused me enough trouble already, and I didn’t need any more. No… I was doing the right thing by keeping him as far away from me as possible. I would make it work somehow. Besides, there was a lot more help available now than there was twenty-five or thirty years ago when his mother got pregnant. I could make this work without him. I had to.
***
“Cain! What are you doing here?” I demanded as I stepped out of The Claw after my shift ended and discovered him propped on my car. I was tired and I didn’t need this right now. I just wanted to go home.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay to drive home.”
“As you can see, I’m fine.” I looked around but I didn’t see his bike anywhere. “How did you get here?”
“Took a cab, in case I needed to drive you home.”
I rolled my eyes. That was just about the lamest excuse I had ever heard. “I’m fine, and I can take of myself; thank you very much.”
He smiled at me then stood up and pulled the phone out of his vest.
“Who are you calling?”
“A cab.”
I stared him a moment, then began to feel like a class A shit. “Don’t do that. I’ll drop you off. But don’t this anymore, okay? It’s annoying and just a little bit creepy.”
“Okay.”
He held his hand out, and it took me a moment to figure out what he was doing, but then I tossed him my keys. He unlocked the passenger door and held it open for me. With a sigh I slid into the seat and he closed the door behind me. He adjusted the driver’s seat all the way back then eased into the car.
“I figured you were tired so I thought I would drive,” he said as he stuck the keys into the ignition and started the car.
Damn him! I leaned my head against the back of the seat and closed my eyes. I was tired, but not so tired that I couldn’t have driven home.
“How was work?”
“I’m not talking to you,” I murmured without opening my eyes. I was being a bitch, but he was pissing me off. The guy simply wouldn’t take no for an answer.
We rode along for a while before I opened my eyes. “Where are we going?” I asked as familiar sights passed.
“I’m taking you home.”
“The hell you are! I was supposed to drop you off at your hotel!”
“I’m just taking you home. I’ll catch a cab from there.”
“You lying sack of shit! You said we were going to your hotel!”
“I won’t even come inside, okay? We’re almost there.” He flipped on the wipers as it began to drizzle again.
“You’re such a dick!”
“No I’m not! I just wanted to make sure you were okay after getting sick today. I guess you ate the food, since you didn’t bring it out, and you’re feisty enough. Now I know and I won’t have to worry.”
“You lied to me!”
“Did not. I never said I was driving to my hotel. Just let me take you home and then I’ll leave, okay? Look, here’s your street,” he said as he turned.
He drove the car into the garage, crowding the driver’s side so I could get out without getting wet, then backed out and put the car in where it belonged so he could get out. As soon as he shut the car door he stepped out of the garage and pulled his phone out again.
He was out of the rain, protected by the
eve of the house, but once again I felt like a total shit. He was being so nice to me. He tucked the phone away.
“The cab will be here in about twenty minutes.” He looked at me and smiled, but made no move to step into the garage. “I’ll just wait on the porch. Sleep well, Alex.”
I shut the garage door, but I couldn’t stand it. I put my purse down on the kitchen cabinet, marched over to the front door, and jerked it open. “Come in before you catch your death of pneumonia. But you have to leave when the cab gets here.”