by Marnie Cate
I pulled into my usual gas station. I just finished filling the tank when a silver car appeared. It slowly drove past me. The windows were tinted, but I made out the silhouette of a man. The Mercedes circled around again and I knew it was Christopher. I had hurt his ego. He was going to make me pay.
I searched for anyone to help. I saw a biker leaving the convenience store with a bottle of water and a bag of chips. He was shoving his items into a backpack when I approached him.
The driver had not gotten out of the car. I knew he was watching me and plotting the perfect time to grab me.
"Hey, can you take me for a ride on your bike? I've always wanted to see what it felt like." I smiled seductively.
The guy looked me up and down. "Sure, babe. Park your car over there and I'll give you a little ride."
I reconsidered as I walked to my car, but then I saw the Mercedes. I could jump off a motorcycle, but I would not be able to escape Christopher if he captured me again. I tucked my shopping bags into the trunk, and returned to the biker. After I reached him, I saw who was stalking me.
My heart fell as I watched an old man shuffle out of the vehicle, and his wife rush to help him.
"Ready?" the biker asked.
"Yeah," I reluctantly said. You need help, I scolded myself. You have now put yourself in a bad situation.
He handed me a hot pink helmet with the words ‘O lady’ written in silver. "Let's get this lid on you and see where the coast leads us." He put his own helmet on and straddled the bike. "Climb on." He smiled at me.
I didn't know how to get away. I slid on behind him. "My name is Caitlyn. What can I call you?"
"My bros call me Bulldog, but you can call me Marcus."
Panic filled me as I realized I was doing this. He was probably in a motorcycle gang and had a girlfriend who wore tight leather. Girlfriend, I thought and immediately felt terrified. "Will your old lady mind that I am wearing her hat?"
Marcus threw his head back and laughed. "There is no one to worry about, babe. The hat was given to me as a joke. It will protect you. Lucky you chose to wear jeans and sexy boots today."
Before I could question what he meant, he revved the engine, and cried, "Hang on."
I rested my hands carefully on his waist. When he jerked foreword, I held tighter. I was on the back of a dangerous vehicle, pressed close to a complete stranger, and I felt surprisingly alive as we rode North. The ride was exhilarating. I was completely confident in my rash decision until he turned off Coast Highway and onto a side street, into a residential area.
I considered jumping off the back of the bike. The risk of getting injured and not being able to fight off an attack stopped me. Who was I kidding? He was solid muscle. Nothing could save me.
A garage opened, and he drove into it. He turned off the machine and got off.
"I need to feed my dogs. Come in and have a drink. It won't take long," he explained.
"I don't drink."
"Water, babe. You will get fucked up if you don't hydrate," He reached over and unhooked the helmet.
I pulled it off and he reached out to me. I jerked away.
"Easy, girl. Your hair is sticking up." He gently smoothed my hair down.
Inside his home, we were greeted by four Chihuahuas of mixed breeds. The small animals yipped at me. He scooped them up, affectionately kissed them, and doled out treats.
"Yeah. Yeah. I'm home to feed you. You act like you are starving," he gently scolded them.
He dished out their food and then turned back to me. "Sorry for the detour. I need to keep my girls happy."
"You live alone?"
He laughed. "Those four are enough."
He reached into the fridge and handed me a bottle from the fridge and offered it to me. An image of Christopher forcing me to drink the same brand washed over me. "Can I just have tap water?"
"Ok." He raised his eyebrows at me and opened a cabinet with dozens of cups. "Lady's choice."
We sat at the table drinking our water. "So, do you go around picking up strangers often?"
"No." I started to lie about my reason for asking today. "I thought my ex…" I cringed at the word ex, "was following me. It turned out to be an old couple."
"So, you used me?"
"No, I…"
He let out a hearty laugh. “It's ok. I like being used by hot chicks.” He got up and refilled my glass of water from the sink. When I finished it, I asked where the bathroom was.
"Second door on the right." He pointed down a hallway.
I passed by a master bedroom that was nicely furnished and as clean as the rest of the house. He didn't trick you in to the bedroom, I thought, forcing myself to stop having negative thoughts.
Just past a guest bedroom on the right, I found the bathroom. When I returned to the kitchen, Marcus was gone. I heard clicking in another room. I followed the sound into an office.
"Hey, sorry, I thought I would answer a few work emails while you were gone."
"What do you do?"
"Website design. Some people are so fucking stupid." He punched the return button. "Really, some shouldn’t even have computers. So, what do you do, Caitlyn?"
"I'm a junior at USD. I am an English major," I answered.
"So, this stalker ex...want me to scare the shit out of him?"
I looked at the massive man. His dirty blonde hair was neatly pulled back, and his beard was short and neatly trimmed. His arms were tattooed from hand to biceps. He was intimidating. I nodded yes.
"Ok, babe, bring me your phone and pull up that douche bag. I am going to make sure he never bothers you again." Marcus’ green eyes sparkled with impish glee.
My hands trembled as I unlocked my phone and found Christopher’s number. Why did you keep this? I scolded myself. I handed it to him and he began to call. The familiar ring of Facetime sounded. I turned to stone.
"I knew you would call," Christopher purred as the phone connected and he popped up on the screen. His voice turned to steel when he saw Marcus, instead of me. "Who are you?"
"I'm your worst fucking nightmare, preppie. If you hassle my old lady again, they're going to be looking for your remains all over California." Marcus held a hand out to me and motioned me close. When I took his hand, he pulled me onto his lap. "This is now my property."
Christopher started to protest.
Something came over me. I grabbed Marcus' face and kissed him, slowly and deeply, for the camera. Underneath his thick mustache were the softest lips. He tasted like peppermint.
He tugged lightly on my bottom lip, clearly for show. When he broke away, he smiled at me. "Come on, babe. This small-dicked asshole has nothing left for you."
Christopher turned red and began screaming. "I've been in every fucking bit of that whore. She's —"
Marcus ended the call and wrapped his arms around me. He held me as if I was a fragile doll. In his arms, I felt safe. Pushing the memories of pain deep into the crevices of my mind, I let him comfort me.
Ding, Ding, Ding. The obnoxious ringtone of my cell ringing frightened me. I jumped and reached for it. Marcus grabbed it first. He grinned and handed it to me. On the screen was a picture of Thomas in a rainbow beret and pop-up heart sunglasses.
"Hey, T," I said, my voice more breathless than I wanted.
"Where are you? I have been texting. I saw your car at the QT," Thomas said, his voice tinged with hysteria.
"Oh, I just went for a run. I needed to feel the ocean breeze," I lied.
"You should have told me. I need to get rid of some extra pounds myself," Thomas chimed in. "I was thinking –"
"Thomas, can I call you back when I get home? I'm losing my adrenaline."
"You better call me. I have big, big, big news." Thomas made sure to emphasis the urgency that I call."
"I promise. Bye."
I set the phone down and found Marcus staring at me. "Another boyfriend?"
"My gay best friend." I smiled.
"Good. I was jealous," Marcus
teased.
"You aren't really going to kill Christopher, are you?" I asked, afraid of the answer.
"Only if he messes with you." Marcus' eyes burned fiery hot and I believed he would keep his promise.
"Why do you care?"
"I have a sister. You were smart not to take my water. There are sick bastards in the world. Some do really shitty things to girls."
He rested his hand on my knee and stared at me. I felt as if he was searching my mind for the answers. "Scum that manhandle and misuse girls are not right."
Marcus took my phone and looked through it. He jotted down a number I knew was Christopher's. He slid me off of his lap and handed the phone back to me. "Let's get you home."
"I don't think I am ready to go." I set my cell on the desk and kissed him.
It didn't take long before our kisses became hot and urgent. I tugged my shirt off and began to tug at his belt buckle. Marcus groaned in admiration before he kissed my breasts and picked me up. Our frantic kisses left me burning in a way I never felt before.
When we reached his bed, he laid me down gently and removed his shirt.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked, halting the moment.
I stared at the man before me. He had to be in his late forties and his scarred, tattooed body told a story of a rough life. His appearance was rough and threatening, but I saw his true self – a kind protector.
"Yes, I want you, Marcus," I whispered.
Without another word, he pulled off my jeans and stared down at me. It was his turn to decide if the view was worth the price. When he took off the rest of his clothes and covered himself with a condom, I knew his answer.
Marcus was not the best lover or the most considerate. When he was done, he rolled off me. His snoring told me my opportunity to climax was over. I lied in shock. I had better sexual experiences with bookstore clerk. I sat up to leave the bed when he clasped my arm.
"I think we have some unfinished business," his voice husky with desire.
This time was different. He focused on my pleasure before his. When he finally entered me again, I was reeling from the sensations.
After we were both exhausted, I laid on his chest while he softly slept. When he woke, we dressed and silently returned to the garage. We had said everything necessary and I let the silence wash over me.
He dropped me off, kissed me, and touched my cheek. "Thanks for the day, babe."
"Will I see you again?" I asked.
His eyes filled with sadness. "A pretty girl like you doesn't need an old man like me. You need to find yourself a man to treat you right and give you a life. I'm going to remind that guy to stay away from you."
"Thank you." I kissed Marcus. One last tender moment. One final goodbye.
"Thanks is not necessary, babe. Promise me you won't go riding off with any more loser bikers. The next time, you might not meet a gentleman like me."
I smiled. "I won't."
As he rode away, I wondered why he had been brought into my life. Several weeks after, I considered going back to his house, but something inside me told me to say goodbye, and I did.
Perhaps he was supposed to save me from Christopher? Maybe stop me from the road to destruction I was on? Whatever he did, I had slept with my last stranger.
The Keeper?
By the time I met Peter, I wanted something real. A relationship, not just a fling.
Peter worked at the local organic grocery store. He was tall, lanky, and I fell head over heels for him. I didn't realize his college part-time job was his end game. I told myself that I could make him into a respectable businessman. He just didn't realize his potential.
After six months, I realized, if I continued with him, I would end up a single mother, and my children would have a deadbeat dad. I knew he was not the right man for me, but our power play was intoxicating. Every day, I planned to end it. Each time, I told myself, ‘one more day.’
At the start of summer vacation, I decided to skip classes over the break and enjoy my time. I promised myself that, when school started again, I would tell Peter we were done.
One evening, I was working as a server at a business event my mother had organized at a five-star hotel. Five hundred men, all eager to talk about their business connections and complain about their wives, attended. I had just passed a plate of appetizers, and returned to the kitchen for another, when I found Peter waiting.
"When do you get out of here," he asked.
"The night just began. I'll be here at least four more hours." I handed him one of the finger sandwiches and watched him devour it. "I'll come by your apartment after.”
"Can you spot me some cash and I'll pick up some beer?" He pushed himself against me.
Spot you? I thought angrily. You should be filled with polka dots for all the spotting I've done.
"Please, Cailtyn," he whispered in my ear. "You know I am good for it."
Relenting, I grabbed my purse and pulled out all the cash I had. "This will have to do." I crushed the bills into his hand.
Instead of leaving, he pulled me into the hallway towards the bathrooms and began kissing my neck.
"Stop," I said. I looked around to make sure no one saw us.
"You got me fucking hot, girl." He continued to kiss me.
I knew he wouldn't leave easily, not unless I submitted. "Not here." I pushed him back.
"Come on, just a quickie to tide me over." He unzipped his jeans and shoved my hand inside the opening.
"I have to go, Peter," I said, trying to pull away.
"Then do it quick." He clamped his hand over mine, guiding me.
I could have resisted. I could have pushed him away, but I didn't want the scene. I didn't want him to break up with me. As pathetic as it sounded, I didn't want to be alone.
"In here." I pushed him into the men's bathroom.
"You're a dirty girl, Caitlyn. I like it."
Inside the handicap stall, he lifted my skirt and tugged on my panties. "No, something fast," I hissed.
While I straightened myself out, he linked his hands behind his head and jerked his lower body. "I'm ready. Show me how much you love me," he purred.
When I gripped his erect penis, he whispered, "Go on, have a little taste of your favorite Peter."
I clamped my hand over his mouth to silence his moans as I used my other hand to make him feel good. You have sunk to another low, Caitlyn. But, Kudos, for not ending on your knees, I thought wryly.
It didn't take much work before Peter released. He had length, but no endurance. In this instance, I was grateful for his lack of stamina.
"Ok, I have to go back to work now. Go clean yourself up and I'll leave when you're gone," I whispered.
Grinning, he kissed me on the cheek. "You're the fucking hottest chick I've ever been with. Let's continue tonight. I'll make you scream for me."
I forced a smile and waited. When I knew he was gone, I rushed to the sink and washed the evidence of our disgusting act from my hands. I checked myself in the mirror. I felt pity for the girl in the reflection. She had become exactly what the boys in high school had said she was.
But, I am in control, not them, I argued. I had just dried my hands when an older man stepped out of the stalls. I could have died from embarrassment.
"Oh, I must be in the wrong room," he said, washing his hands and smiling at me.
Had he heard Peter? Did he know what I did?
"Actually, I think I was mistaken," I said, nodding at the urinal. "My apologies, sir."
I quickly ducked out and returned to my duties. The night flew by as I catered to the needs of the men from all over the world. They were in San Diego for a trade's convention. Talks of the best flooring for commercial endeavors, new equipment, and sales tactics filled the ballroom.
The Reality Check
I returned with a fresh tray of bacon wrapped shrimp when I bumped into the man from the bathroom. This time, I noticed how attractive he was. He looked to be in his fifties with hints o
f grey in his deep brown hair. His jaw was strong, and his blue-grey eyes were piercing. He had the body of a retired quarterback.
"We meet again," he said, taking one of the appetizers from my tray. "I'm Nick Fisher, and you are?"
"Cailtyn…Caitlyn Chase," I stammered.
"Would you have a drink with me, Caitlyn?" he asked.
"Um, I can't. I am still working," I said.
"I am staying in the hotel. When your shift is over, I would like to learn more about you." He smiled.
I checked the time. What did I have to lose? A night of Peter attempting to convince me to try out the latest sexual position he saw on the internet? Or, perhaps, watching my mother fall asleep on the couch to an old black and white movie?
"Ok, where should I meet you?"
"Room 404."
I raised my eyebrows.
"I assure you my intentions are not nefarious, Caitlyn. I am in the presidential suite on the 21st floor," he said, taking my hand. "We'll be able to have a nice chat and drink out on the balcony."
There was something so comforting about him. I knew better than to go out with a nice man. Didn't I find out how easy it was to be drugged and raped by a nice man? Even with this knowledge, something led me to him.
At the end of my work shift, I said goodbye to my mother, lying that I was going to spend the night with Peter. She frowned at this, but didn't comment. She would be even more disappointed if she knew I was meeting an older man alone in his hotel room.
Nick hadn’t lied. He was staying in the presidential suite and it had two balconies. The room was luxurious. I felt giddy, like a school girl. Like one of the sappy RomComs I loved to watch came to life.
"What would you like to drink, Ms. Chase?" He led me by my elbow to the bar.
"Whatever you have in a sealed bottle."
He raised his eyebrows and opened the mini bar. "Help yourself." He smiled.
I took a can of sparkling fruit-flavored mineral water and a bottle of vodka. I poured them both in a glass and took a sip. "Would you like one?" I dropped several ice cubes into my glass.
He poured the leftover sparking water into a glass and dropped a few ice cubes. He left out the vodka. "Shall we adjourn to the balcony?"