by C. C. Wood
A dark red flush swept up his neck and face. I knew my point had been made.
That’s why his next words shocked me.
“Until five weeks ago, I hadn’t had sex with anyone in six months. I just finished an extremely stressful undercover op in conjunction with the DEA and I needed to blow off some steam. Those women are friends of mine. When they’re single, and I’m single, we hook up if both of us are interested. We keep it platonic any other time.”
I managed to fight back the sneer that wanted to spread across my face. I didn’t understand the idea of having sex just for sex’s sake. Maybe it was my strict religious upbringing, but I didn’t get the whole ‘let’s scratch an itch’ thing.
Despite my attempts to keep my thoughts to myself, Troy saw my aversion to his sexual activities.
“Surely you’re not that uptight?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I understand that there are people who are comfortable with that kind of arrangement, and I would never bash someone for deciding to carry on a strictly ‘friends with benefits’ relationship. Still, it’s not for me. I’m not built that way.”
I didn’t add that the only woman I knew who actually attempted to be friends with benefits was now married to the ‘friend’. That didn’t do a lot to dissuade a woman from thinking that one day the man they were screwing would wake up with the idea that they couldn’t live without her. I had been that woman without realizing it. My last ex considered me his fuck buddy, and I never caught on until he flat-out refused to introduce me to his parents because he didn’t want his mom getting ideas. However, it hadn’t been my fault I didn’t realize it. My ex treated me pretty well. When I told him I felt like we weren’t close, that he kept parts of himself from me, he had laughed in my face and explained that we weren’t ‘like that’.
Troy nodded. “I understand.”
I sighed. “I’m glad you understand and agree. I think it’s best if we forget about what happened last night.”
“Now, I don’t agree with that,” he stated.
I choked on the water I was sipping. “What? Why not?” I asked between coughs.
“Because sex is not the only thing I want from you.”
I gaped at him. “What exactly do you want from me?”
Troy finished off his beer and set it down on the kitchen table with a snap that made me twitch. God, I was on pins and needles around him.
“I haven’t decided yet, but I know that I wouldn’t be satisfied with just fucking you. I’ve never met another woman like you, and I want to know more.”
He picked up his fork and took a huge bite of beef lo mein.
It took me a second to find my voice, but when I did, I wasn’t feeling friendly. What in the hell? Did he think he could decide he was interested in getting to know me, and I would just accept that and go along? Judging from the calm way he was digging into his food, I guessed that was exactly what he thought.
“Did you think for a moment that I don’t want to get to know you?” I asked archly.
Troy just looked at me and continued to eat. Okay, so maybe I couldn’t hide the fact that I was attracted to him. Still, I resented how easily he seemed to think I could be won. I wanted a man who was willing to work to win me.
He said he didn’t play games. I told him I didn’t want to play games. Well, I changed my mind. I might not be able to resist him completely, but I wouldn’t make it easy for him. The name of my game was Hard to Get, and I wanted to see just how many hoops Troy would jump through to get what he wanted.
When he looked back up at me, I merely smiled. Game on, Troyboy.
Two days later I was beginning to question my sanity.
The night that Troy stayed for Chinese food, he insisted on getting my phone number. I tried to resist, but he threatened to call the landlord and get it that way. Now that I knew he was a cop, I knew Davis would give him my number, so I relented. He also wanted to stay and hang out. Those were his exact words. I didn’t trust him completely so I managed to get rid of him after we ate.
One point for me. One point for Troy. We were tied.
Unfortunately, Troy won the next point. The next morning the insurance adjuster showed up to check out the damage to my car and take photos. He came over while I was outside with her. After the adjuster finished up and gave me the information about how to get a rental car, she left.
“Have you eaten breakfast yet?” Troy asked.
I shook my head.
“Why don’t we go eat together? I can follow you to the body shop when you drop off your car and take you to the rental car agency after we eat.”
Since it was Monday and all my friends and family were busy working, I agreed. I could have called an agency that delivered their rentals, but there was no telling how long I would have to wait. I didn’t like the idea of being without transportation.
That was how Troy managed to get my ass planted in the passenger seat of his 1969 Chevelle. His surprise when I went gaga over his vehicle must have been similar to my own when he recognized Wagner blasting out of my stereo. Then his expression turned satisfied, as though he had discovered something valuable.
He took me to Waffle House. I never would have admitted this to him, but it was one of my favorite places to have breakfast. I liked it more than IHOP or any other greasy spoon in the area. I was surprised to learn over breakfast that his mother had been a music teacher, hence his knowledge of opera and classical music. The same satisfied expression settled onto his face when I told him about my work as an accompanist and piano teacher. It dawned on me that he got that look whenever I did something he liked. He’d said the night before he wanted to know more about me. Well, he was learning. Probably too much.
After a surprisingly enjoyable meal, Troy drove me to the rental car agency to pick up a vehicle. I had to laugh when they brought around a Hyundai the same model as mine, only about six years newer.
I did manage to get rid of Troy after I picked up my rental. I told him I had some shopping to do. Really, I didn’t need to go shopping, unless you counted the burning desire to buy things in order to prevent oneself from making a stupid decision as a need.
As soon as I saw the Chevelle’s taillights, I headed to Northpark for some serious retail therapy. I bought two underwear sets, one in black lace, the other in hot pink satin. Even though I had every intention of making Troy work his ass off for me, that didn’t mean I couldn’t plan a nice reward should he prove worthy. I also went to several of my favorite stores and scoured the clearance racks for some cute clothes.
After a few hours, the urge to prove myself a liar and jump Troy’s bones dissipated, so I grabbed a latte at a coffee place in the mall and headed home. How that man managed to get under my skin with little more than a ride in a cool car and breakfast at a cheap restaurant, I didn’t know, but I needed to stay strong.
I drove home with a smile on my face, sipping my pumpkin spice latte. I pulled under my carport and hauled my loot inside. Something didn’t seem right when I entered the kitchen, but I wasn’t sure what it was.
I looked around carefully as I entered the living room. I noticed my book wasn’t on the coffee table any more, but on the small table by the hall. The throw pillows were also arranged precisely and symmetrically, something I never did.
I felt a chill go up my spine. I set my bags down in the middle of the living room floor and crept down the hall. I peeked into the guest room but it was empty. I even checked the closet and under the bed. Nothing.
I checked in the hall bath, looking behind the shower curtain. The tub was empty.
That just left my bedroom.
I continued down the hall and slowly stuck my head around the corner to my room. I froze. My once gorgeous bedroom, with peacock feathers in a huge vase and a black-on-black zebra patterned satin comforter, looked as though it had been invaded by psychotic howler monkeys.
Clothes, shoes, make-up, and my sheets were shredded and strewn across the floor. My sexy dark red chai
se lounge, once angled in one corner of the room, was turned on its side, the cushions split open with several jagged slashes.
I stood in the doorway, aghast at the destruction. My eyes shot to the bathroom door, and I made my way across the messy floor as silently as possible. The bathroom was even worse than the bedroom, with powders and creams smeared across the counter top and floor, and all my body wash and shampoo dumped into the tub on top of several of my most expensive pairs of shoes.
It was clear that whoever had destroyed my room and bathroom was long gone. They had also ruined what appeared to be ninety percent of my wardrobe and a great deal of cosmetics, some of which were very expensive.
I felt tears well up in my eyes. Whoever had done this didn’t just dislike me, they had to loathe my very existence. I went back into the bedroom and saw that one of the panes on the French doors had been broken out. That was probably how they had gotten in.
I wondered why the devastation was limited to my room. I was still standing in the center of my bedroom when I saw Troy’s face appear on the other side of the doors on my deck. I jumped and stifled a shriek when he popped up out of nowhere. When he saw the state of my room and the tears rolling down my face, he reacted instantly.
Troy pushed open the doors and came directly to me, wrapping me in his arms.
“What happened? Are you hurt?” he asked.
I tried to suck in a deep breath, but my throat was so tight that the air got stuck. I hiccupped several times and managed to get the words past the constriction around my vocal chords.
“S-someone broke in and trashed my room. They were g-g-gone by the time I got home.” I stuttered over the words, trying to hold back the sobs until I got the words out.
“They probably heard me come home and left,” he said. “I got here about fifteen minutes ago, and I haven’t heard anything.”
With the walls being as thin as they were, I knew he was probably right.
He pulled back and put his hands on my shoulders. “Amy, this shit is escalating, and it’s happening fast. Is there anyone you can think of who might have a grudge against you?”
The officer from last night had asked me the same thing, and I honestly couldn’t think of anyone who might hate me this much. Sure there were people who didn’t like me, but none that should have a reason to hurt me this badly.
I shook my head. “I don’t have enemies! I’m just an accompanist and piano teacher. The worst anyone has ever done to me is send me bitchy texts.”
Troy hugged me again. “Shh. Try to calm down, okay? I know this is stressful. I just want you to think about it, and maybe something will come to mind. It could even be something you thought wasn’t a big deal. You never know what will set people off.” He paused. “What about the dickwad from yesterday? Do you think he would do something like this?” he asked.
“Grayson?” I thought about it for a second. “I don’t think so. Sure he was pissed that I didn’t want to sleep with him, but this started before he proved himself to be such a complete a-hole.”
He started to speak again, but I heard my phone go off in my purse, which was in the living room with my shopping bags. I pulled out of Troy’s arms and walked down the hall to my bag. I didn’t make it before the voice mail picked up, but my phone dinged to show I had a message.
I looked at the screen and frowned when I saw a message from a blocked caller. That same chill I felt earlier snaked down my spine all the way to my ankles. Shit. I had a bad feeling about this.
Hitting the play button on the message, I turned the phone to speaker so Troy could hear also.
The message began and all I could hear was breathing. After a moment, a harsh but feminine voice whispered, “How’d you like my present, whore? You should never have taken what was mine.” Then a quiet click as the caller hung up.
Holy shit. I turned wide eyes to Troy.
He looked pissed. And serious. Actually, he looked seriously pissed off. “Do you recognize the voice?” he snapped.
I shook my head.
“And the number was blocked?”
I nodded.
“Do you know what she meant by you should never have taken what was mine?” he barked, pulling his own cell phone out of his pocket.
I shook my head again. I probably looked like a bobble head, but I had no idea what was going on or why it was happening. I also didn’t know what to say, not that I could speak anyway. I listened in numb silence as Troy called dispatch and reported the break in. I made yet another call to my insurance company. Thank God my mother harangued me into getting renter’s insurance. There had to be at least five thousand dollars’ worth of damages to my furniture, clothing, and toiletries. I was also grateful for my impromptu shopping trip that afternoon. At least I had some clothing and a couple of new sets of underwear to use until I went through the mess to see what could be salvaged.
My insurance agent, the same one I used for my auto insurance, was shocked at the latest turn of events. She said she would be over in an hour, which would give me time to make yet another statement to the police. God, this was getting old.
It was dinner time before the police and insurance adjuster were gone. Troy had nailed a piece of plywood over the empty pane in the French door in my bedroom. I heard him walking the insurance agent out, but I didn’t have the energy to follow. I just stood in the center of my bedroom and tried to figure out where to start.
The sound of the front door closing jolted me out of my stupor, and I picked my way across the floor to the closet. I turned on the closet light and stared inside. Thank God whoever broke in hadn’t had time to destroy my entire wardrobe. I loved clothes and had quite a few, so my walk in closet was pretty full. I kept them organized by seasons; spring and summer on one side, fall and winter on the other. Whoever had broken in had started with the spring and summer clothes and barely touched the fall and winter side.
So I had clothes to last me the next few months. I could save until the spring styles came out and then replace a great deal of my wardrobe. I laughed humorlessly when I realized I now had an excuse to go on a shopping spree.
When I exited the closet, I almost ran headlong into Troy, who was standing just outside the closet door, watching me. I noticed he had a box of heavy duty trash bags in his hand. I wasn’t sure where he got them, but I was glad that he thought of it. Even though I was stressed to the max, I wanted to get started on at least some of the cleanup.
He eyed me intently. “Are you gonna be okay?”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “Thanks for helping with all this mess.”
Troy shrugged but didn’t reply. I guessed he was thinking the same thing I was, that he’d rather not have this shit happening to help with.
I gestured to the box of trash bags in his hand. “Thanks for bringing those. I’d like to get started on the cleanup.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. I half hoped he planned to stay and help me but I didn’t know how to ask without seeming like I expected him to do just that.
Troy saved me from blundering into that awkward conversation. “If it were my house, I know I would want to get the worst of it cleared out tonight. I think it will help you feel more in control.” He paused, tearing open the box. “So where do we start?”
I sighed, pleased that he was going to stay. Maybe that wasn’t exactly in my hard-to-get game plan, but I could definitely use the help.
“First, do you mind bagging up all the stuffing from the mattress and chaise? I’ll go through the clothes and shoes and see what I can salvage.”
Troy gave me a sharp nod. “No problem. I also ordered a couple of pizzas. They should be here soon.”
I almost told him I wasn’t hungry but realized that I actually was. In my prowling for the best deals in an effort to put Troy out of my mind, I had forgotten to eat lunch.
“Sounds great,” I said, taking one of the trash bags. I didn’t mention that I probably wouldn’t be able to eat a bite.
It took forty-five minutes for
the pizza to come and, in that time, Troy finished bagging up all the stuffing from the chaise and the broken cosmetics cases scattered across the floor. He also helped me go through about half the mess of clothing on the floor.
I quickly realized that the bastard who had broken in had slashed every single piece of clothing that he dumped on the floor. If it wasn’t hanging in the closet, it was destroyed. I also ascertained that all the shoes in the tub were a complete loss. They were coated with shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and baby oil.
When the delivery guy rang the bell, Troy made me stay in the bedroom. He said it was for my protection. I didn’t understand at first. Then it hit me that he was worried whoever was ringing the bell was here to finish what they started in my bedroom, only this time they wanted to slash the shit out of me.
I heard the murmur of two male voices and the front door shut. Then Troy’s voice, “Food’s here. Come on out.”
I went into the kitchen to find Troy putting pizza on two plates.
“What do you want to drink?” I asked.
“Got any beer?”
I reached into the fridge and grabbed him a beer. I left it on the counter for him. Then I went to my pantry and pulled out a bottle of red wine. I was strongly tempted to drink straight from the bottle, but I managed to resist. Instead I went to a cabinet and found Big Mama. Big Mama had been a gift from Cat and she was a wineglass large enough to hold an entire bottle of wine.
When I asked Cat where in the hell she found such an insane, but thoughtful, gift, she replied she saw one in a television show and thought I would like it. Which I did, especially after a particularly hard day. I popped the cork and poured the entire bottle of red into Big Mama.
Troy watched me do all this and he was grinning at me when I finished my task and went to the table.