by Amanda Lance
“Cool,” she said, smiling. “Most people I know can’t even draw stick figures. Including me.”
“Really?” I grinned. “You seem pretty capable of just ’bout anything.”
Addie rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah.” She laughed. “Throw me one of those sketchbooks, I’ll prove it.”
I handed her one and laughed. Right away she relaxed, her damp hair falling in front of her face while she threw something on the paper. I knew that alone was reason enough to sketch her, so kept my mouth shut and went to sit on the bed, trying to bring that image of her to life the way I saw it. I let myself have a smoke then, but I left the door open and appreciated how she smiled when I did.
As much as I liked putting her on paper though, it was tough to get what had gone down out of my head. I was pretty sure that Ben wouldn’t hurt her unless he thought he had to; Yuri probably wouldn’t unless he had to… me and Reid though, could be two peas in a pod sometimes. More than once we’d gotten into fights together, beaten down guys in bars just for the hell of it and one time doing batting practice together on a pimp in Haiti.
I looked up at her and rubbed the back of my neck. It was a lot sorer from bad sleeping than I wanted to admit.
“Sorry ’bout those guys.” I wanted to say more, but couldn’t.
“No one should be anymore sorry than they have to be.” She stopped erasing her paper and brushed the shavings away. “Well, that’s not true. I feel pretty sorry for this smiley face right now.”
I chucked softly to myself.
“I don’t blame them for hating me. I would too, if I were them.”
Hate her? How could anybody hate her?
“It’s me they’re sore at.” I put out the smoke on the bottom of my boot. Suddenly I was real eager to set the record straight. But before I could say anything else, she spoke up again.
“Can you blame them?”
My pencil broke on the paper.
“Guess not.”
Without thinkin’ ’bout it, I took out my switchblade from my front pocket and went to work, sharpening the pencil, a natural reflex after so many years. It took a minute to realize that she was probably terrified I was gonna hurt her with it, but the idea of her slashed up skin made me so nauseous for a second I could taste lunch coming back up.
I shut my eyes and put the blade away, half expecting to see her shaking. Except that when I opened my eyes again, she was just biting her lip, still trying to work her ‘smiley face.’
“Where are you from?” she asked.
It coulda been she hadn’t seen the blade but Addie didn’t look the least bit afraid. I, on the other hand, was still feeling half-sick from thinking ’bout her all cut up. I tried to swallow it down. What the hell was wrong with me? Wasn’t like blood had ever bothered me before…
“Why do ya wanna know?”
She shrugged. “Because I’m curious.”
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
“It’s not fair that you can look up almost anything about me, but I know almost nothing about you. Besides, I’m just going to figure it out anyway. I don’t have to tell you how helpful the Internet can be.”
I had to hand it to her for having a good point. I wanted information on her and it was easy to get. And now that she knew my name, there wasn’t no question she’d be able to know just ’bout anything she wanted. After all, she was a real resourceful girl.
I sighed. “All over.”
Looking up at me, she started tapping her fingers. But I got caught up in the daydream of all the things the papers were probably saying ’bout me. With my record, and now stealing up this pretty girl, I’d probably be voted ‘bad guy of the year.’
“You’re right.”
The sound of pencil on paper stopped.
“When you go home… now that I’m a big criminal and all, they’ll be saying all kinds of stuff ’bout me.”
She shook her head and paled. “I don’t want to imagine the kinds of things they might be writing about me right now.”
That made me laugh outright. Did she really think anybody outside of Reid would have the balls to bad mouth her right now? “You’re kiddin’ me, right? You’re America’s Sweetheart right now—pretty girl, good family, genius smart. The only bad stuff their sayin’ is ’bout your dad ’cause he’s cursing out the cops.”
Addie did a funny sort of laugh and cough combination. Big Mouth flu musta been catching ’cause I sure as hell shouldn’t have said any of that. I already knew she didn’t like talking about her family, but I shouldn’t have admitted that I had looked her up—that I thought she was pretty.
“I’m not ‘genius smart.’” She waved her fingers like they were quotes. “I just graduated from high school early.”
Yeah, right. “An IQ of 136?”
“My mom rigged those.” Her eyes rolled. “I’m sure of it.”
I erased some of her eyelashes and started again. “I doubt it.”
“Hmm… I’ve never heard of ‘all over,’ is that in the Northwest?”
I grinned while she got frustrated over a new drawing. Shoulda known she wasn’t gonna let that one go.
“You always gotta be such a smartass?”
She smiled directly at me. “Only when I’ve been abducted against my will.”
While I deserved that, it still kinda hurt. I didn’t deserve to be talking with a girl like her and I knew it. We were from two different planets, and if we ran into each other we’d probably explode.
“You’re putting me to shame over there, aren’t you?”
She almost had me distracted enough to sneak a look at my sketch, but I caught what she was doing and yanked it back to me at the last second. Before turning away, Addie smiled all sly, like she was the only one who knew a punch-line to a great joke.
Suddenly it had me wondering how many other guys she gave that smile to. I couldn’t remember reading nothin’ online ’bout a boyfriend but it didn’t seem like she was the type who would have a lot going on in that department. Addie Battes was a decent person, funny and smart, and in my experience, girls who had been pawed by more than a few guys tended to lose most of that stuff.
She blew off more eraser shavings as she stood up and came over to me—making me forget just about everything but my own name for a second or two. When I did regain myself though, I turned over my sketchbook—yanking her chain was turning out to be a whole hell of a lot of fun.
I took her drawing and took a hard look, half expecting to see a mild masterpiece in my hands. Instead though, what she had drawn was a half-crooked Christmas tree all shadowed up by the eraser marks of her mistakes. ‘Fore I could stop myself I started laughing—even her circles were way out of whack.
“What?” She shrugged. “I told you I couldn’t draw!”
I turned it over and looked at the face she had tried to draw. The eyes were different from one another, and the lines of the nose so curved, the guy coulda had a broken face.
“You weren’t kiddin’!”
“Ha, ha. Now quit avoiding my question and answer me.”
“What?”
She threw her hands up, all mad. “Where are you from?”
“South Carolina, Georgia, Tennessee…”
“Were you a military kid?”
“No.”
Only a second went by before she asked me another one.
“How long were you in prison?”
I hesitated before answering. Would tellin’ the truth scare her more, or would she just sniff out the lie like a bloodhound.
“Eleven years.”
She laughed like a nervous Nellie. Damn, I knew I should fudged the truth.
“So much for learning your lesson?”
I nodded.
“What about your family?” she asked. “What do they think about what you do for a living?”
Why was she going for the crappy subjects? All the ones that gave me a headache? Maybe she was doing it on purpose just to get under my skin—just to yank on
my chain?
“Don’t got any.”
Like before though, it was clear she wasn’t gonna let that one go, neither. If she wasn’t around, I woulda slammed my head back up against the wall. I really needed to keep quiet around her.
“When I first saw you together, I thought you and Ben were brothers.”
Although that wasn’t what I expected her to say, it wasn’t wrong, either. While they were man-sized hemorrhoids sometimes, working with the fellas had made me more money than I knew what to do with and I trusted Ben from the joint alone.
“We kinda are. All of us are.”
Her giggle made my toes twitch again. Admittedly, not the body part women usually got twitchin’ in me.
“Were you always an orphan before you knew the guys?”
I knew why I wanted to know about her, but why was she so curious about me? I sat a little further away. What if her favorite movie was Kill Bill or Oldboy? There was little doubt in me that she couldn’t come after me if she really wanted to.
“Why are you askin’ so many questions?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I think maybe it’s the scientist in me… but it could also be because I’m trying to understand. I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
I laughed. “A criminal, you mean?”
“No. Well—yes… but I also mean you.”
Again, she seemed to really mean it. And when so few people seem to mean what they say, it kinda got to me. “I didn’t have an old man and my ma took off when I was real little.”
The sympathy was real clear in her face, that same kind the social workers used to have when I was little—I hated it as much in that moment as I did back then.
“Who took care of you?”
“The state sometimes…”
At least when I felt like it. I smiled at her, rotating my neck around ’til it felt better. “I’d get bored with the families they’d stick me with and run off after ’while.”
She smiled. “The ‘all over’ makes sense now.”
“See, ya are a genius, after all.”
Addie punched me in the arm, and I was too grateful to feel her fist on me that I zipped my lip.
“So do you guys kidnap people all of the time, or am I your first attempt in this racket?”
Definitely yanking my chain—trying to mess my head up somethin’ good. “This is a trial run. I figure the next one will have to actually be worth some money, not ask so many questions—”
“That isn’t funny.” Her expression was blank and her voice cold. Maybe I had taken it too cold, but like a junkie, I couldn’t make myself stop.
“Don’t worry,” I looked at her from head to toe, “you ain’t got any competition.” I chuckled all sarcastically but couldn’t make it funny in my head. Judging by her face too, she didn’t see any humor in it, either.
“Yeah, I know it ain’t funny.”
She put her arms over her chest but I laughed at her pouting. If she wanted to yell at me or lecture, I had taken the opportunity away from her. Still laughing, I pushed some of the hair out of her face. It was still wet and still all knotted up, but I still thought they were the prettiest locks I’d ever run my hands through.
Addie laughed and flung a piece of it behind her. “It’s horrendous, I know. I wish I had a hair-tie. I’d even settle for a rubber band if you have one—”
Without thinking, I took out that hair thing of hers I’d found on the ground. It was mangled by dirt and lead from my hands, but I dangled it in front of her anyway—glad now that I had forgotten all about it because of that look I got to see on her face.
I dropped it into her hand and it got real hard to breathe when she closed hers around mine. Her hands were perfect shade of pale, none of those little veins that old ladies have or scars from a hard life. And though her nails were kinda bitten down they were clean and straight, and I liked knowing that she didn’t paint ’em up with polish.
“I can’t believe you found this.”
She let go of me and returned back to her hair—probably not having a clue how she had nearly killed me.
I assumed she went to get her hairbrush when she found her t-shirt. Meanwhile, I was still trying to get my heart to calm down so I was just kinda tuning in and out.
“Oh yes! I forgot all about this!”
While she inhaled the smell from the t-shirt, I stared at her without even trying to hide it. Her face was thoughtful, going over a million looks at once in just a couple of minutes. She looked real happy to have that shirt that I couldn’t have fit a leg in. It had me wonderin’ how happy she would be to have a nice piece of jewelry, or if she even liked that stuff. Turning back to me with her hair pulled up I pretended to look at something else.
“Thanks for this, Charlie.” I was vaguely aware of her sitting on the bed again, but the sound of her saying my name kinda messed me up.
“You’re welcome.”
“What time is it?” She yawned.
I only answered when I got my voice back, but even then I kept it short and simple—not wanting her to hear my voice breaking up. Instead, I tried to concentrate on my new sketch of her: the curve of her elbow, the length of her neck…
Even though her eyes drooped, I didn’t hesitate to keep on her, even breaking the pencil again more than once from trying to put some dark in the shadows—those bruises around her neck.
At the sound of her sandals dropping, I bit my tongue. This girl was a constant concentration breaker, but I kept on—working the lines of her fingers and how the hair rested just on her shoulder.
I got to touch that shoulder when she was just drifting off and the sketch was finished. Just watching her doze was making me tired, and I knew it wasn’t right being there overnight, so I needed to book it before she fell asleep completely.
“Addie? Hey, Addie?”
Her eyes darted from my face to my sketchbook and I was afraid she was gonna ask to see what I’d done, so I spoke up before she could.
“I’m gonna take off.”
She stretched but didn’t smile. “Okay?”
I looked over my shoulder back at Polo’s cabin. Maybe I shoulda at least shown her where I would be if she needed me. “I’ll be across the hall over there. Make sure you lock the door and don’t go nowhere.”
Closing her eyes again, she nodded a little bit, but was fading fast. “Yeah, got it.”
I only watched her for a second more. Then turned the lamp out and took one more moment to cover her up with the blanket on my way out.
Chapter 9
The next morning I went straight back to her, not having slept the night before, anyhow. My craving to bother her was stronger than usual and since she was the reason I hadn’t slept at all, I figured I might as well give in.
The lock was easier than I remembered. I bit my lip hard enough ’til I tasted blood and reminded myself to change it later. If I could get through it so easy, then half the guys on the ship probably could, too.
She was still buried under the blanket where I left her though, and it made me sigh. While I was pretty sure she was still asleep, she rolled over at the sound, curled up into herself, and faced the wall. I promised myself I’d be more quiet.
Grabbing up my sketchbook and pencil, I started drawing her right away, having a hard time not laughing every time she snored a little. After a few minutes though, the crick in my neck started acting up from gazing down at her. I moved from side to side, but I felt like if I didn’t do something else right quick I might damn well go paralyzed.
I hesitated a little bit since she was taking up less than half the bed anyway, I was hoping she wouldn’t mind me sitting on the edge there. It was pretty brass of me, I admit it. But I eased myself on there and was careful again not to touch her in anyway—even through the blankets. Strange how even as I did it seemed like she started snorin’ more, making it harder and harder for me to focus on my picture.
I pulled my leg up on the bed, taking care so that my boot didn�
�t dirty up nothin’. Whatever she was dreaming ’bout had her rubbing at her face every couple of minutes, like when a dog has an itch, and I snickered into my elbow. Between that and her snore, I could hardly get nothing done anyway, so I started tapping on her forehead with the eraser end of the pencil.
Her brows edged together while she slept. Even sleeping she could look adorable and mad.
Rolling over, she pulled the blanket further over her head but I just tapped harder.
I let myself laugh when she swore—whether she was still asleep or not I couldn’t really tell. But I kept on tapping for another few seconds while her head turned and one eye popped open. I saw how gleamed up she was right away, but there was nothin’ that coulda prepared me for what she did next.
She jumped up like a spring, I could tell she was trying to topple me over, but she was way off and I had to catch her before she fell over and cracked her head open or something. This time I didn’t wait to rub my thumbs against the back of her elbows or breathe in the smell of her hair. The whole time she was wiggling against me, but it wasn’t like she was really mad or nothing anymore.
“That is a very rude way to wake someone up!” She laughed.
I let go of her arms and pushed her back up. “I had to,” I explained. “Your snorin’ was ruining my thinkin’.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I do not snore!”
I laughed harder at how offended she looked. “Yeah—yeah, you do.”
“Take that back!” Even without shoes, she kicked me pretty hard.
Twirling the pencil in my hand, I went back to sketching her—though really I was only pretending to. Joking around with her was a lot fun, more fun than I coulda given it credit for. Strange though, ’cause while women were good for a lotta things, I’d only ever known them for being fun for one thing.
“You big jerk!”
Just then, arms spiraling from the blanket, she threw herself against me. It was easy to guess that she was going for the sketch, but my leg slipped and I fell to the floor like a bag of concrete. And in that second that I saw her face dangling over the bed, laughing at my misstep, I didn’t hesitate to pull that mess of blanket she had tangled around her.