“Hold me, Ron,” she whispered. “Please. Just hold me tight.”
Talk about déjà vu all over again…
It was one of those moments when you suddenly start to slide and realize you should have slowed up about a hundred yards back. I felt the soft swell of her breasts pushing against my chest, but somehow didn’t feel totally comfortable in my new role of Shade, the seducer of innocents. Her mouth came to mine again, and this time she opened her lips. I hesitated, still holding her, then kissed her cheek. “Laurie, we’re moving kind of fast on this,” I said. My words must have hit her like a runaway deer smacking into a fence. I felt her muscles tense.
“You…don’t want me?”
“No, no, that’s not it at all. You’re a beautiful girl,” I said. “A man would be crazy not to want you. I’m no exception. But things are sort of complicated.”
She pushed away from me, grabbing one of the paper towels and wiping at her nose again, her gaze fixed on the floor. I put my hand on her shoulder and felt her shudder slightly.
“You mean because of you and Paula?” she asked through the sniffles.
“Hey, we’ve got history, kid,” I said. “Up until a few days ago, I still thought of you as that little girl in pigtails.”
“I’m not a little girl anymore.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed. Believe me, I’ve noticed.” I took a deep breath. I still had to call tomorrow to get the results of my blood test. “I’m just not sure it’s the right thing to do right now.”
“Yeah, I guess not.” She drew herself up straight. “Could you take me back to the hotel now, please?”
“You’re welcome to stay here,” I gestured toward the couch. “If you’d rather not be alone. We could finish watching the movie.”
“I’ve already seen it,” she said. “It’s been on TV.”
“Hey, it’s Casablanca,” I said. “You can never see it too many times. I get something new out of it every time I watch it. I could narrate it for you. I’ll even make you some popcorn.”
She showed me a lips-only smile.
I reached over and brushed my fingers gently over her cheek. “You’ve been through a lot today, and you’re emotionally vulnerable right now. Especially to night. And if anything happened between us now, at this moment, I’d be worried that you’d wake up tomorrow morning and regret it.” Eerily, over her shoulder Bogey was giving his “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of your life,” speech to Ingrid.
“Oh, Ron,” she said, lurching forward and pressing against me again. “You’re such a special person. So considerate of other people. How did my cousin ever let you get away?”
How did she let me get away? I wondered what twisted version of the story of me and Paula she’d been fed. Ask your uncle, I thought about saying. Instead, I just held her there, feeling her warmth and softness transferring to me, and knowing that if I’d played my hand a little differently, we would have been leaving a trail of our clothes to the bedroom. And I also knew that I could probably still manipulate her in there. But the question remained: If I did, would I be able to look at myself in the mirror in the morning?
The next morning my shoes crunched through some freshly fallen snow as the sky in the east showed a pinkish glow starting to break through the thick velvety blackness. I raced along, hoping not to hear a telltale whistle of any approaching trains. When my alarm had gone off at six, it was all I could do to slip out from under the covers and shuffle around getting my winter running clothes on. Laurie had continued to slumber on the couch, looking warm and comfortable under a thick comforter. Little Rags had wormed his way into the space between the curve of her legs and the back of the sofa. The lucky little bastard. I turned north and headed into the wind, ducking my head to shield my eyes from the onslaught. As I battled the stinging needles of ice, I mulled over the ups and downs of my current situation. I didn’t regret that I’d resisted the extreme temptation to make love to Laurie. She was a client, and in a particularly vulnerable state, like I’d told her. And there was still the matter of her cousin’s “legacy.” How could I tell her about that? Even though I kept telling myself that the test would come back negative, there was still that lingering worry that it wouldn’t.
Although I didn’t really place much credence in his abstinence theory, at least Chappie wouldn’t be pissed off at me. But he was probably still mad about my missing that workout last night. And chances were that he’d never know how nobly I’d handled myself last night anyway.
Why weren’t things ever easy for me, I wondered, as the icy wind tore at the exposed skin around my eyes. I lowered my head and continued onward. I wondered if that applied to this case too. If I kept looking under rocks, more sordid stuff about Paula would probably come out. My guess was that asshole Peeps knew more than he was telling. I’d have to wait to see what George uncovered about him. Maybe that would shed some light on things.
I reached the end of my third mile and began the long sweep back toward my house. It was getting lighter out now, and as I shifted direction, the wind was blowing mostly at my back and I was able to put my head up. The dark, heavy clouds to the north looked ominous, and the snowflakes were getting more substantial. An oncoming car cruised slowly by me on the snow-encrusted street, and the driver held up his hand with his index finger pointing toward his temple. He whirled his finger in a circle as he passed, staring and grinning at me.
Yeah, I thought, I was probably pretty close to certifiable, putting myself through this. But in another week I’d know if it was worth it.
The snow had slowed me down considerably and it was almost seven thirty when I trudged up the steps of my back porch. The odor of freshly brewed coffee greeted me. Laurie sat at the table sipping from a cup. She had on her same clothes from last night, plus one of my sweatshirts. Even without makeup, her face looked fresh and pretty. And young. Real young.
“Hi,” she said with a smile. “I woke up and figured you’d be out running. You want me to fix you some breakfast?”
“Sure,” I said, heading for the bathroom. “But I’ll need to grab a quick shower first. Everything you need should be in there.” I pointed toward the refrigerator.
“Okay,” she said. “Scrambled, right?”
“Right,” I said. “You’ve got a good memory.” I stripped off my running clothes and shoved the wet mass into the hamper instead of just hanging them on the line down in the basement for another few runs. Then I hopped in the shower and lathered up, letting the hot water run over my back to ease the kinks. I finished about ten minutes later. The smell of the bacon and eggs was inviting. I drew the towel around my waist and walked quickly into the bedroom. If Laurie saw me, she didn’t say anything. The phone rang while I was slipping into my jeans and a sweatshirt. I glanced at the caller ID. It was Chappie.
“You up?” he said.
“Just finished my run,” I said.
“Oh, really?” he said in an exaggerated tone. “That’s strange since you been disregardin’ everything else I been tellin’ you to do.”
I didn’t try to argue with him. After a moment’s silence, he said, “So you gonna grace us with your presence for a workout today, or what?”
“Just tell me when you want me there,” I said.
“Nine o’clock,” he said quickly. “Sharp. I got some sparrin’ partners lined up and don’t want to pay ’em for sitting around doin’ nothing. Again,” he added.
“I’ll be there with bells on.”
“Just get your white ass in here for a workout or the only bells you’ll be hearing be the ones in your head,” he said and hung up.
I grinned. Good old Chappie. He always went the extra mile trying to goad me into the best shape before a fight. But it had been such a long road to get this title shot, and I didn’t want to let him down most of all. From the sound of his voice, though, I knew that this morning’s workout was going to be a ballbuster.
When I went back into the kitchen Laurie h
ad already put my eggs, bacon, and juice on the table. She popped two slices of wheat bread out of the toaster and asked if I wanted butter on them.
“Yeah,” I said, sitting down. She set a fresh cup of coffee in front of me and began buttering the toast.
“So what’s our plan for today?” she asked.
“First I’m going to enjoy this great breakfast you’ve made for me,” I said. “You did fabulous. Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
I sampled some of the eggs, and then nodded my head in appreciation. She smiled and sat down across from me, biting into a slice of toast.
“I absolutely have to get a workout in this morning,” I said. “That was Chappie on the phone. He’s still ticked off about last night. Then I’ll get a hold of George and see if he’s found out anything on the stuff I left with him. But—” I paused.
Laurie looked questioningly at me.
“I probably should tell you that if I keep on digging, more unpleasant stuff might come out. And it may not be real pretty.”
The hazel eyes darted away from me momentarily. “Yeah, I know. I’m prepared for that. Well, at least I think I am.”
I nodded.
“And…” She tossed her hair back and caught it with her fingers. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to accompany you to the gym. I could use a good workout.”
“You work out?” I asked. It came out sounding more skeptical than I’d intended.
“Yes, I work out,” she said with a mixture of embarrassment and mild hostility. “I go to the gym at school all the time. Just because I smoke doesn’t mean I don’t work out.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“That’s okay. My kind of working out isn’t anywhere near your class. But I thought I did see some aerobics and weights there, right?”
“Sure.” Good sublimation, I added mentally.
“Great,” she said. “Ahhh, and also, if you wouldn’t mind, I was thinking that I’d just go check out of that hotel after we’re finished eating. That is, if the offer of your couch is still open.”
“Sure,” I said, thinking about the old saying that living with temptation could make you stronger. Or could it?
“Thanks,” she said. “It’s so expensive. And this way I’ll have more money to pay you with, right?”
I smiled as I shoveled in some more scrambled eggs. “Plus we can watch Casablanca a couple more times,” I said. “Remember what I told you: the more you see it, the better it gets.”
“I’m beginning to see what you mean,” Laurie said, looking at me over the rim of her coffee cup. But there was something in her eyes that I found unsettling.
CHAPTER 17
It took us longer than I’d planned to get to the gym. First I had to take George’s truck over to the gas station and top it off. I wanted to be ready for his standard “Is it on empty again?” inquiry when I talked to him later. With Laurie following me in The Beater, we drove to George’s house and dropped the truck off. His wife wasn’t there, so I just parked it in front and kept the keys. Then we went to the Holiday Inn to get Laurie’s car. Unfortunately, the combination of the cold and the inactivity had taken its toll, and the damn thing wouldn’t turn over. I rummaged through my trunk and found jumper cables. We sat huddled in The Beater while her battery charged up and the misty snow that I’d run through earlier started to solidify into heavy white flakes. When we finally got her car started, there was a layer of one or two inches on the hood and roof.
After parking her car in my garage to warm up awhile, we headed for the gym without further delay. I would have preferred a bit longer to rest my legs, but I knew that Chappie would have my head if I showed up too late. As it turned out, I missed the mark by only twenty minutes or so, and he didn’t seem pissed at all. At least not until he spotted Laurie. One look at her and he gave me what I’ve come to know as the long, cold stare.
“So glad you could make it,” he said.
“Sorry. The weather, you know. Been waiting long?”
“Shit no,” he said. “I told ’em not to get here till after ten, figuring you wouldn’t be rolling in till then anyway, since I told you nine, and you always do what I says.”
“Say, you remember Laurie, don’t you?” I put my arm around her shoulder and ushered her forward. She smiled and nodded shyly.
“How you doin’,” Chappie said.
“Laurie wants to get a workout in too,” I said.
“Glad somebody’s interested in workin’ out,” Chappie said. “Maybe some of that will rub off on some other people. People who have important fights coming up in less than a week.”
“I’ll get her set up,” I said.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “And I’ll go check on the Mad Russian.”
“Alley’s here? How’s he doing?”
“He’s one crazy white boy,” Chappie said. “Wants to fight again this weekend. I told him it be too soon. Got to let that cut heal. But he was insisting till I told him that your fight’s comin’ up then. Don’t know what’s with that boy.” He shook his head. “Enjoy your workout, Miss.”
I showed Laurie where the women’s locker room was, gave her one of the locks we kept in the office, and found Brice, who was working the weight room. He looked pretty impressive in his tank top and sweats.
“Darlene here?” I asked him.
“Huhun,” he said, straining out his last few curls with a pair of fifty-five-pound dumbbells. The muscles seemed ready to jump out of his skin.
“I brought a good friend of mine here,” I said. “Can you take her around and show her how to operate the machines and stuff?”
“Sure, Ron,” he said, setting down the dumbbells. “Ahhhh, is she yours?”
I frowned. Mine. Brice could be an idiot in the way he looked at women sometimes. “Let’s just say that she and I are very good friends.”
“Okay, I get the picture,” he said, holding his hands palms outward. “I’ll look, but won’t touch.”
I nodded a smile and headed for the locker room. It wasn’t that I was jealous of the possibility of them hitting it off or anything. Well, maybe I was a little, but I just didn’t want Brice messing around with Laurie. It wasn’t right for either of them. She was such a sweet kid, and he had a bodybuilding contest coming up. That meant that he’d probably be increasing the dosage of his usual series of injections and he’d be prone to some unpredictable behavior.
I didn’t mind Brice messing with all the steroid and growth hormone stuff that he did, as long as it didn’t affect me or Chappie. Once, when the euphoria of the chemicals had gotten the better of him, he’d let a couple of his bodybuilding buddies talk him into getting in the ring with me. He suddenly found out what speed and timing were all about and that taking punishment from a quick series of jarring combinations was a whole lot different than dishing it out. Or thinking that you were invincible because you could bench press 400 pounds. His chin wasn’t what he’d imagined it to be, either, and he’d quickly ended up on the mat, with a healthy respect for me ever since.
I dressed quickly in my usual sparring outfit: sweats, cup, and T-shirt. After slipping on my foot-protectors and shin guards, I wrapped some tape around them. Out on the floor Laurie was looking petite and sexy in spandex tights and a form-fitting sweatshirt as Brice showed her how to use various machines. She smiled as I walked by.
At the doorway of the boxing room, I heard the steady rhythm of a speed bag being pounded. Alley stood in front of one of the three speed bags, working away with an intent expression on his face. I tossed my bag of gear down beside him and began taping my hands. When the timer bell sounded, he stopped and grinned at me.
“Ron, hi.” He looked exhausted.
“How’s the cut?” I asked. He canted his head to let me inspect it. A track of black stitches wound jaggedly over his left eyebrow.
“Is okay,” he said. “I want fight Friday, but Chappie say, no can do. You fight then.” He punctuated the sent
ence with one of his broad, guileless smiles.
“You should let this heal more,” I said, pointing to the cut. “Don’t fight too soon.”
He shrugged, his mouth pulling into a taut line.
“You want to hold the pads for me?” I asked.
“Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head and grinning again. “I have to sleep. School to night, then work.”
“Busy man.” I slapped him on the shoulder. “You get some rest now.”
He nodded and gathered up his stuff. As I watched him drag himself toward the doorway, I wondered if I was going to look that tired after I finished this morning’s workout. Brice stuck his head inside and called to me.
“Some guy called here for you. Wanted you to call him back as soon as possible.”
“Who?”
“Never mind who it was,” Chappie said, stepping into the room. “You got a workout to do.” Then, turning to Brice, “What you mean tellin’ him something like that to distract him beforehand? You be gettin’ his head all messed up. Lord knows it be messed up enough already.” He turned to me and grabbed the tape. “Let me do that.”
As he wrapped my hands with rote skill, he began his standard lecture about how women before a bout are a fighter’s worst enemy. Once again, he proceeded to tell me the familiar story about the unscrupulous promoter who set him up with a prostitute once on the eve of an important match. Although I could probably have recited it by heart, I just let him tell it, figuring I had it coming for missing last night’s workout. Like listening to the priest going through the litany to grant you absolution.
When he’d finished I said, “Chappie, I’m not sleeping with her.”
“Un-huh,” he said dubiously. “I can tell that by the way you two been stealing lovey-dovey glances at each other.”
I sighed heavily.
“What you want me to do?”
“What do I want you to do?” he snapped. “That’s easy. Just keep away from her till after the fight.”
Windy City Knights Page 15