As the Liquor Flows

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As the Liquor Flows Page 12

by Angela Christina Archer


  “Well, then why don’t you tell—”

  “Shhh.” His hand waved in front of my face and his shoulders braced.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Shhh!”

  I bit my lip. Frozen in the silence, my heart thumped.

  “Don’t get out until I return, all right?”

  Before I could respond, Max slipped out of the truck and trotted to the slightly opened door, glancing over one shoulder and then the other several times every few seconds.

  Man, woman, old, young, in the darkness of the night, I could only see a silhouette of the person he spoke to, and after a few moments, he returned, motioning me to climb out of the truck.

  “I’m going to unload. I need you to go down to the street and watch out for anyone coming. Stay in the shadows so you aren’t seen.”

  “And what should I do if I see someone headed this way?”

  “Hightail it back to the truck,” he laughed.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Hey, you wanted this job. It’s time to get it done.” He smiled an annoying smirk and gently pressed on the small of my back, giving me a slight push in the direction toward the street. “Remember to stay in the shadows.”

  “You wanted this job.” I mocked as I continued down the alleyway, muttering under my breath. “That’s when I believed it would come with a little training.”

  I tucked my hands in my pockets. The hollow sounds of the night closed in upon me with a darkness that not even the lampposts along the city streets could fight. An eerie mist from the storm brewing in the distance clouded my vision. It chilled the air and whispered through my fears.

  I hid amongst the shadows along the sidewalk with my back pressed against the brick building. The cold stone tugged on the material of my jacket, straining the stitches with a rasped sound as I glanced from left to right searching for headlights.

  Please let no one come. Please. Please. Please let no one come.

  Loud cracks of lumber crashing together ricocheted behind me as Max and another man unloaded the wooden crates from the truck.

  Minutes ticked by. My shoes pinched my feet as the cold air had tightened the leather. I adjusted my weight and a rock crunched under my toes. Its jagged edge poked through the sole. I kicked the tiny pebble and watched the nugget roll several inches.

  Meow.

  A cat trotted across the street. Its jet black, long fur had matted into several hairballs on its back. A sense of destitute echoed through the tone of its voice as the poor animal brushed against both of my legs and butted me with its head. In desperate need of a bath and food, the skeleton frame lingered around my feet and begged for attention.

  Meow.

  “You poor thing.” I bent down and ran my fingers through the matted fur.

  The sound of brakes squeaked behind me and I froze.

  No. Please. No.

  My eyes traced my shadow. In bending down to pet the stray cat, I had exposed myself in the light of a nearby lamppost.

  No. Please. No.

  I held my breath for a moment, petrified with the thought of moving, and yet, I had to. I had to move. I had to straighten up. I had to see if the driver was a cop. And I had to get back to the truck.

  I straightened and slowly turned toward the sound. The outline of an automobile sat motionless on the corner of the two cross streets a block from me.

  Please, drive away. Please, drive away.

  I pressed my body up against the building. My heart raced. I closed my eyes for a second to calm the bubbling panic in my chest, and as I opened them, the vehicle slithered out onto the street and crawled toward me.

  Please. No. Please.

  Closer and closer the hunk of steel crept along as inch by inch the tires glided down the darkened street. Whether I fled or stood my ground, the driver would see me in a matter of mere moments.

  Lights suddenly flipped on and the free rolling siren blared.

  I fled toward the alleyway as the cop stomped on the gas pedal. His police car sped forward, nearly hitting me as he blocked my only escape.

  My hands slammed against the hood, the hot metal burned my palms. I tried to flee again, but tripped, stumbling to the ground while my knee smacked into the bumper. Pain shot up my leg.

  The cop flung the driver door open. As he leapt out, he grabbed my arm and swung me around. His force slammed me into the police car.

  “Not tonight, lady. You’re not getting away from me.”

  “Yes, she is.” Max stepped out of the shadows and drew his pistol. With a loud crack, he struck the cop in the head with the butt of the gun handle.

  The cop collapsed, his body lay in heap on the ground as blood dripped down his face.

  “He . . . he saw me. He saw me.” My voice trembled through my stutters.

  “We need to get out of here now.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  A few more sirens echoed in the distance. The blaring sound stole my breath.

  “He radioed for backup.”

  Max yanked the truck’s door open. I hoisted my body onto the seat as he bounded in after me. Within seconds, the engine fired up and he stomped on the gas pedal. The truck obeyed, accelerating forward with jolt and a loud rumble.

  Max turned the steering wheel and the tires slid sideways, rocking the cab of the truck. The poor lumbering heap of metal and rubber was far too inept to speed around the corner that he forced it to take.

  I clutched the seat. My arm muscles flexed and my knuckles turned white. The truck gave another lurch as the wheels straightened out. Down street after street, the engine roared, faster and louder as we weaved our way through town.

  Siren sounds bounced from building to building around us as headlights flashed in the mirrors. A few of the once dark windows, lit up in different shades of yellow as people awoke from the noise and probably rushed to catch a glimpse of the commotion outside.

  Finally, Max sped into the parking area of the warehouse. His foot slammed onto the brakes and I braced myself as the truck skidded to a stop in a group of similar trucks in front of the building. Empty crates slid across the back of the truck and smacked into the side.

  “Duck down.” He pushed me down against the seat and laid over me. With his body pressed into mine, his shoulders engulfed my frame.

  Sirens blared outside in the darkness. Seconds felt like hours as we waited, until finally, they faded in the distance, leaving an eerie silence in between Max’s heavy breaths. His weight upon me shifted as he raised his head, and then finally, his whole body from on top of mine.

  “I think they are gone. Are you hurt?”

  “No.” Unable to meet his gaze, my eyes burned into the dashboard. “I’m so sorry, I messed up.”

  “You didn’t mess up. You did fine.”

  “No, I messed up. I didn’t stay in the shadows as you instructed. I bent down to pet a stupid cat and . . .” I slapped my hand against my forehead and shook my head. “How could I have been so stupid?”

  He wrapped both arms around me and drew me into his strong chest. Safe and secure, the world around me vanished in his warmth. I wanted to stay there forever. I wanted him to hold on and never let go.

  Sadly, the reality crushed my desire as tension in his arms eased until he finally released me.

  “There’s no sense in hashing out the mistakes. It’s over and done. I didn’t expect tonight to go perfectly smooth. Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” I tucked my hair behind my ears. “I won’t make the same mistake again. I promise.”

  “I’m sure you won’t.”

  The truck door swung open.

  Max jerked his gun from the holster.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, it’s just me.” Bones held up his hands as he backed away from the truck.

  “And just what were you thinking, opening the door like that?”

  “Almost got caught, huh? You never take a dame on a racket. Dames don’t belong in this business.”<
br />
  The amusement in Bones’ eyes twisted in my gut. A rebuttal sat on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t say a word. With the whole situation my fault, I couldn’t argue with him.

  “Yeah, well, I never asked for your opinion, now, did I?”

  Max racked the gun and pointed it at Bones, tapping him in the nose with the worn barrel.

  The blood drained from the young man’s face and his skin turned pale white. He raised his arms in surrender and fled from Max’s wrath.

  Max holstered the gun and slid from the seat, rubbing his temples with his fingers. His body not quite faced the door, and yet, he blocked me as I scooted toward the edge, leaving my feet dangling off the side.

  Guilt hung in my deflated shoulders.

  “He’s just an idiot. Pay no attention to him.”

  “It’s not like I could argue. I mean, he’s right.”

  “We made the delivery. That’s all that matters in this business.”

  “Max, I just want to apologize for tonight.”

  He raised his hand and gently touched his fingertips to my lips. His body shifted closer to me, facing me so that my knees pressed into him. My stomach fluttered.

  “You don’t have anything to apologize for. Tonight wasn’t your fault. Tonight wasn’t anyone’s fault. It’s a risky business for us and things like this, well, they just happen.”

  “Especially in my family, apparently,” I mocked.

  Laughter burst from his mouth. “Yes, I suppose I should have taken such into consideration before sending you out there as I did.”

  “I hope that cop is okay.”

  “He’ll probably need a few stitches and will have a good size headache in the morning, but he should be fine. I didn’t hit him hard enough to kill him.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course,” he winked.

  “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “No you shouldn’t. We should get you back to the mansion, though. It’s cold, I’m hungry, tired, and it’s not safe to be out here like this.”

  “I don’t want to go back there.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes.”

  He shrugged his shoulders and motioned for me to get out of the truck. “Well, I guess there’s no sense in taking you back just to wake up the staff to feed you. I’ll take you back to my apartment instead. Then drive you to the house in the morning.”

  “All right.”

  As my feet hit the pavement, my knees buckled under my weight, and I nearly collapsed onto the ground. Max caught me. His arms squeezed tight, holding me as I regained my balance.

  “Sorry, I just lost my footing.”

  Standing in his arms, our eyes locked. The seriousness in the deep chocolate hue knocked the breath from my lungs. I leaned away from him, expecting him to release me.

  He didn’t.

  With a bold step forward, he backed me up and pressed me into the side of the truck, exhaling a deep breath as his fingers slid up my neck then traced my jaw line.

  I held my breath. All thought vanished.

  His lips pressed against mine with a passion that built within seconds, and overwhelmed me.

  THIRTEEN

  I TIPTOED FROM the powder room and into the master bedroom of Max’s apartment. Daylight cascaded through the sheer white curtains of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

  Not but a few hours had passed since the run-in with the cops, and the anxious tickle through my raw nerves still stung with every loud sound, every movement that wasn’t mine, and every shadow that darkened the wall.

  I sat upon the bed and drew my knees up close to my chest, tucking my hair behind my ears as I glanced around the room.

  The faint recollection of Max’s strong arms carrying me to bed whispered through my mind. His smooth gate had rocked me. Nice, comfortable, secure, my body had relaxed into his with a seamless fit as though his frame was an extension of my own.

  As gently as he scooped me up, he laid me down upon a soft bed. My head rested upon a fluffy pillow as he covered me with warm blankets.

  His deep voice had told me to ‘just get some sleep’, while his fingertips grazed against my forehead and brushed my hair from my face.

  The perfect ending to the night, after our less than perfect kiss.

  WHACK!

  I slapped my hand across my forehead, massaging my temples. His kiss so wonderful, and yet, so unexpected I hadn’t reacted as I desired.

  I hadn’t reacted at all.

  Instead, I simply stared off into the sea of delivery trucks sitting around us, causing him to pause and retreat from me as though he believed he’d done something wrong.

  I’m such a fool.

  A telephone cradle shook with a thunderous rattle, ringing loudly in the hallway just outside the cracked open bedroom door. Footsteps clumped against the hardwood floor and someone lifted the headset from the cradle.

  “Yeah.” Max’s voice boomed.

  The voice on the other line blared through the speaker, mumbled and incoherent, even with the volume.

  “What? Wait . . . what happened?” He exhaled a deep sigh that rumbled through his chest in a low growl. “Are you serious? Where’s Vinny?” he paused again. “All right. Yes, yes, I’ll be right there. No, no, don’t do that, I’ll be right there.”

  He slammed the headset down onto the cradle so hard that the ringer bell rung, and then he knocked on the bedroom door.

  “Evelyn? Are you awake?”

  “Yes.”

  He slipped inside the room. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” I whispered.

  My heart fluttered at the sight of him crossing the room. I had to fix the misunderstanding from last night. I had to clue him to the fact that I, not only had wanted the kiss in that moment, but I had wanted it for quite a long time.

  “Something happened at the warehouse. We need to get down there as soon as possible.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  He ignored my question and rummaged through a blazer hanging on a coat rack in the corner. Anger and confusion plagued him, dragging him inward into his own thoughts.

  “Max?”

  “Someone decided to send Vinny a message.”

  “What kind of message?”

  “They shot up the warehouse.” His words held a hint of disbelief that twisted in my gut.

  “Shot up? As in . . .”

  “As in unloaded dozens and dozens of bullets on the place and everyone inside at the time.”

  “When?”

  “After we left this morning. Most of the employees had already arrived for work.”

  He slipped his arms through the blazer sleeves and opened one of the dresser drawers. After digging around, he finally withdrew his weathered gun, checked the bullets, and then slid the cold steel into the holster strapped around his shoulders. No longer the familiar man I’d come to know, an agitated distraction changed him.

  “Would you like some coffee before we go?”

  “No, no, I’m all right.” I slid from the bed and began to fold the sheets and blankets tight against the bed to straighten them back out.

  He strode around the bed and his hands grasped mine, a soft touch that sent my heart fluttering. “You don’t have to do that, Evelyn. We don’t have time, and besides, Flora will take care of it.”

  “Flora?”

  “My housekeeper.” He released my hands.

  “Oh.”

  “I hope you don’t mind, I moved you from the couch last night into the bedroom while I took the couch.”

  “No, I don’t mind.”

  “My couch is nice, but I just thought you’d be more comfortable in here.”

  I nodded, unable to meet his gaze as he stood next to me, staring at me. Seconds ticked by, five, ten, fifteen, what felt like an hour, was only a minute.

  “Evelyn, I wanted to apologize for kissing you last night. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

  Of al
l the emotions that Max stirred in my blood, uncomfortable wasn’t one of them, unless one counted the hopeless feeling of never satisfying a craving uncomfortable.

  “Well, I guess we should go, then.” He strode for the bedroom door. Tension flowed through his gate from his shoulders down into his thumping footsteps.

  My mind told my feet to follow, but they stood rooted in one spot, unable to move.

  Say something you fool. Say something.

  “Max?”

  He hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. Although he faced me, he wouldn’t look me in the eye.

  “You didn’t make me feel uncomfortable.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  His hand slipped from the knob and within a few strides, he stood so close to me that I felt his warmth on my own skin.

  “Am I making you uncomfortable now?”

  I shook my head.

  His fingers traced up my neck, clutching my face in the palms of his hands. “And now?”

  My body quivered. “Nothing you could do would make me uncomfortable and I’m sorry that I made you feel that way.”

  He kissed me again with the same ignited passion as hours ago in a dark parking area. His arms engulfed me with an embrace that tightened with every second.

  My fingers grasped his shirt, twisting the cotton material in between them. Like an intense wildfire, our heat spurred our every movement closer to one another. My knees weakened and my mind numbed to anything else besides him.

  Hesitantly, he finally pulled away, but pressed his forehead into mine, his panting breath hot against my skin.

  “We should get to the warehouse.”

  My own heavy breaths matched his as I nodded and closed my eyes.

  “If we didn’t have to, Evelyn, I’d say we should just stay here all day.”

  “No, no, we should go. You have a job to do.”

  His fingers intertwined with mine and he led me down the hallway toward the front door.

  Late morning sunlight blinded me as we trotted down the building steps toward the Rolls Royce parked along the side of the street. Instead of the passenger door, Max led me around to the driver door and motioned me to slide into the front seat.

  After following close behind me, his body pressed tight into mine and I leaned my head on his shoulder as the engine purred underneath us.

 

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