Love and Gravity
Page 3
Twelve minutes later the car jerked to a hard stop. Margot raised her head and looked out the window. She saw the ocean in the subtle grey morning light. She could smell the salt in the air. They were near the shipping yard. There were no people on the streets that Margot could see. Jack opened the driver’s door.
“Come with me, and stay close behind,” he said, taking his gun out of his jacket pocket.
Margot got out of the car and followed him across the street. There was a building that seemed to be abandoned. It was covered in graffiti and had some broken windows on the bottom floor. She could vaguely see the words Bretton & Sons in faded white paint above the main door. She followed Jack around to the side of the building where a dented green steel door with a sign that read “Office” on it. The door was left slightly ajar.
“Damn,” Jack said, seeing the door open. He quietly pushed the door open with his gun. Inside the room it was dark and mostly empty, with just a bit of light coming in through a single corner window. There were empty wine bottles on the floor alongside a few strewn about blankets. There was more graffiti along the walls. Jack walked inside and as Margot followed him she saw the sprawling body of a girl on a pile of blankets in the corner. Jack walked up to the body and Margot followed him tentatively. As she got closer she could see the girl’s face. Her eyes were open, her lips were parted, and she had a gunshot in the center of her forehead. There was a large dark bloodstain on the blanket beneath the girl’s head.
“Oh my god,” Margot cried, raising her hand to her mouth.
“Let’s go. We need to get out of here.”
Jack wrapped his arms around Margot and turned her towards the door, ushering her outside and back to the car. He stopped by the door and picked up a cotton shirt from the floor. He tore a strip off of it and asked Margot to tie it firmly on his arm above the bullet wound. Margot did as she was told, but felt guilty all over again as she saw him wince with pain when she pulled the shirt tight.
When they got back in the truck Jack started it up again and they headed towards the highway on-ramp. He took out his phone and dialed.
“Hey Frankie, it’s Jack. I’ve got something for you. I need you to meet me so I can hand over a file and a witness. How soon can you meet me?”
Margot could hear a thin voice on the other end of the phone responding, but she couldn’t make out what it was saying.
“That’s the soonest,” Jack asked? “Alright, well if anything changes let me know. We’re heading your way in the meantime. I’ll be in touch. Thanks Frankie.”
Jack hung up the phone.
“Damn,” he said, so quietly Margot could barely hear him.
“Frank can’t meet us for two days. He’s hung up on a trial until then. In the meantime we need to stay hidden and try to get as far out of Gravity as we can. Pop has pull all around, but it’s not as strong outside the city. For now, we should keep heading north and get some miles between us and them.”
“Okay,” Margot managed weakly. She felt so tired underneath her fear. Her feet hurt from wearing heels and from running barefoot to the cafe. She thought about the girl she saw in the flop. That dead girl was so young. They’d been shot at that night, probably by the same gun that killed the girl. It could just as well have been Margot if Jack wasn’t there. Now she was looking out the window of the stolen truck, watching the sun rise above the treetops lining the highway out of the city. She felt empty and sad.
From the driver’s seat Jack looked over to see a shrunken, wilted flower beside him in the passenger’s seat. Margot was sitting in a ball on the tiny seat, hugging her knees to her elbows. There was a dark line of mascara streaming down her cheek and the heels of her stocking were torn open. She looked pitiful.
The protective instinct in Jack swelled with determination. He couldn’t explain why it was so, but he was willing to die before letting Pop get to Margot. Pop wasn’t going to get this one from him, not this time.
He powered the tiny truck ahead, bracing himself for a long day on the road. He planned their next moves as he drove, silently cursing the two day wait to meet Frankie. Jack saw the sun rising behind Margot, lighting her tousled blonde hair into a fiery golden mass. He recalled the dream her frantic call had raised him from and gripped the wheel tighter as the truck barreled ahead down the road. “Not this time,” he thought to himself. Not this time.
Chapter 4 -
Sleep overtook Margot like a heavy ocean wave. It was a thick, dreamless sleep that was finally interrupted hours later when Jack stopped the truck at the gas station.
After he filled the tank, Jack went into the tiny store to get some food, water, and aspirin for his arm. It really wasn’t a bad wound considering, but the throbbing was becoming intense. The bleeding had stopped a while before.
Margot went to the ladies room to clean herself up a bit. When she looked in the mirror she could hardly recognize herself. She straightened out her hair, removing the clip from it. She washed the makeup from her face with paper towels and straightened her dress. She was annoyed at her dress for being so short and form fitting. She would have to leave her stockings and garter belt on until she could find something different to wear.
She thought about it for a moment and took some eyeliner out of her purse. She spent a couple minutes giving herself cat’s eyes with the eyeliner. She felt better with her eyes like that. She felt composed and capable.
When she left the bathroom Jack was back in the truck waiting for her. She started to walk towards the door of the store and saw a rack with bandanas on it. She saw a blue one and picked it up, running it through her fingers thoughtfully. She realized then that she would never see her ratty old apartment again. Her clothes, her dishes, her furniture. It was all lost to her. Then she realized the most painful thing. Her paintings!
An incredible sadness filled her as she realized that those horrible people were going to determine the fate of her beloved paintings. They would rifle through them, maybe burn them or throw them out like trash. The same people who did those awful things to those beautiful, sad, young girls were going to have her paintings. Margot felt a numbness creeping out of her heart and spreading into her limbs and mind.
She needed to buy the bandana. She needed something familiar. She took it to the counter and paid for it, putting it up around her head before she left the store. She realized she must look ridiculous in her black cocktail dress and torn stockings with a blue bandana on her head but she could hardly bring herself to care. She walked out to the truck and got in the passenger’s seat.
Jack was nibbling out of a bag of peanuts when she climbed in and when he turned to look at her she saw his eyes glimmer with surprise seeing the bandana. He looked lost for words for a moment.
“Peanut” he asked, pushing the bag out towards her?
“No, I’m fine thanks,” said Margot, who at the moment couldn’t imagine eating ever again.
She smiled politely, and it made her look vulnerable to Jack. He couldn’t explain why, but he liked the bandana on her. When he saw her at the bar, she’d had an intimidating beauty about her. She’d looked womanly beyond her years in that tiny dress that hugged her curves, with her hair and makeup fashioned so expertly and delicately. But underneath the bandana, with her makeup largely removed she looked warm and exposed. The eyeliner she’d left on struck Jack as playful.
He tried to reconcile this current vision of her to fit the drug possession charge she’d been jailed for years ago. It didn’t really make sense. Before he met her, when he’d known her only on paper, he’d had a very different idea of what she must be like. From the moment he saw her in the bar though, she had surprised him. He found her intriguing.
“So I think we should keep driving for a while before getting a room for the evening. We can get something to eat and get some sleep and take some showers. We can get a change of clothes on the way, too.”
“That sound good,” Margot said. “Mind if I put on the radio?”
�
��Go ahead,” Jack replied as he drove the truck out of the station and back onto the highway.
Margot turned on the FM radio in the truck, scanning until she found one playing soul music. Otis Redding’s sweet, musky voice drew itself achingly from the speakers. It was a song Margot adored, “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long”. She rolled down her window and let her arm hang out of it, letting the warm summer air roll off her fingertips. As the song played, she looked out the window and saw a sign on the side of the road that said “Now leaving Gravity City”.
Just two more days. She would never see this place again. She probably wouldn’t even be Margot Kidman soon. She noticed how immense it seemed to imagine a whole new life. It was a feeling familiar to her from her childhood spent following her father from Army post to Army post.
“I’m ready for this,” she thought to herself. She breathed deeply and felt herself sink further into her seat. Jack was going to keep her safe for now, and then she’d be off on a whole new adventure of her own.
“What about it Lenny, what’s going on?”
Pop was annoyed. Lenny had shot up a cafe very publicly and still failed to take eliminate the targets. Even with the cops in his pocket, Pop would still have to answer for the cafe. Discretion was a part of their deal. Lenny knew one of the marks was wounded, but couldn’t say which one or how badly. It was shoddy work. At least he’d finally managed to shut that street walking trash up. Pop’s patience was thin though. This was the second time Lenny had to mop up after himself in a week’s time.
“We got a lead from the cops. The truck they stole was reported missing to the local precinct and we got the tags. We got a flag from a friendly trooper on the highway up north. I was going to take one of the boys and go on a little road trip.”
“I want some souvenirs Lenny. I want proof. And take someone good with you. This is a real cluster fuck and if I go down you better believe you’re coming down with me.”
Pop spit contemptuously. He wasn’t going to take anyone’s word for it now. Lenny had too much to prove and Pop knew better than to trust a man who had something to prove.
“You got it,” Lenny said. Twenty minutes later he and another one of Pop’s boys were flying down the road towards the last sighting of the stolen truck.
Chapter 5 -
Hours after stopping at the gas station, Jack and Margot stopped at a hotel called The White Unicorn. It was a middle-of-nowhere dive that cost fifty bucks a night for a single room. Jack told the hotel receptionist that they were a newlywed couple named Sam and Gwen Kowalski and that they’d had their luggage and IDs stolen on the way back from their honeymoon. The receptionist said it was unusual for them to rent a room without proof of ID, but since they were newlyweds he didn't want to make things more difficult on them. Jack thanked him and put his arm around Margot.
"You just can't imagine how much my wife and I appreciate this," he said.
They were about 250 miles outside of Gravity now, but still far from the state lines. Margot was anxious about stopping, even without giving their real names, but she was too tired to continue. She felt dirty and hungry and the thought of a warm shower and a bed had never sounded so fantastic to her.
They had stopped an hour earlier at a shopping mart to find some clean clothes. Jack had gotten a striped blue collared shirt to replace his torn, bloody suit jacket. He also got a small bottle of whiskey and some bandages for his arm. Margot bought a thin, grey long sleeve shirt, and black leggings. She also got a pair of light tan knitted knee-high socks a more comfortable cotton bra to wear. They had both gone in for some toothbrushes and toothpaste.
When they finally walked into the hotel room, the fire alarm was dangling from the ceiling, cheeping out some half-hearted beeps. Jack set their bags from the shopping mart down near the door and walked over to take the battery out.
“Well, it’s not the Ritz,” he said.
“No, it’s not. But as long as the shower works I’ll take it,” Margot replied.
The thought of Margot taking a shower came to Jack unbidden and sent his mind racing through a series of possible events. He began to flush. He stopped messing with the alarm and set the battery on the corner table.
"Let's stay away from the windows this time, eh?" Jack said, closing the blinds as he managed a weak smile. He walked over to the bed and grabbed a menu off the side table for a local pizza place. "Why don't you go ahead and take a shower and I'll order us some pizza."
"That sounds perfect, thanks," Margot replied.
She grabbed her bags and took them into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. She leaned against the door, taking a few deep breaths and centering herself. She could hear Jack on the phone in the other room, ordering the pizza.
Finally, this long awaited shower had arrived. She began by unzipping her dress and taking the straps down off her shoulders. She let the dress slide from her body into a pile around her feet, then stepped out of her heels, feeling a thousand pounds lighter immediately. She took the bandana off and shook her head side to side, tousling her hair. She ran her fingers through it, scratching her scalp with her fingernails slightly, sending a small shiver down her spine and giving herself goose bumps.
She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror in her thin black lace bra that lifted her ample breasts capably and let the warm pink of her nipples show through. Her nipples were firm and protruding in the chilly, tiled bathroom. Her hips protruded above a black lace garter belt, with the straps still attached to her fraying stockings.
Her pale skin looked luminescent in the cheap fluorescent lighting. She unhooked her bra and let it fall from her. Her breasts had small red marks underneath them from the underwire and Margot massaged them gently with her palms. Her skin felt itchy and numb from wearing the constraining bra for so long and her palms felt wonderful and invigorating. She slid her fingers underneath her garter belt, bending over and sliding it down her thighs, hooking her stockings in her hands and pulling them down as well. She pulled her stockings off, and was finally naked.
She looked in the mirror again. She thought of Jack being so close to her while she was naked like this, separated only by a thin wall. She wondered what he would say if she simply walked out naked into the other room. She felt seductive and vulnerable to him at the same time. All this terror and violence, all this disorienting uncertainty and invigorating newness was making her feel reckless.
Her eyes were wide and alert, animal-like. Her eyeliner remained drawn on perfectly beneath her wild, haphazard hair. Her nipples were still hard from the cold and as she thought of revealing herself to Jack they became even more erect, contrasting exquisitely with the soft round teardrops of her breasts. Her firm stomach segued magnificently into the fullness of her hips. Her pubic hair was trimmed and shaved into a thin strip leading down to her clitoris.
She looked for a moment longer, trying to match the person she saw in the mirror to a name other than Margot. She wondered if she’d be allowed to choose her own name. The lack of certainty and control over her own destiny was frustrating and all too familiar. She sighed, tired of thought, and turned towards the shower, twirling the knob over to hot, drawing a sputtering rainfall from the showerhead.
When she stepped into the shower the heat from the water struck her body wonderfully, her pale skin quickly turning a vibrant rose color beneath the steam. Margot opened the small bottle of shampoo from the shelf inside the shower and let the water run over her head. She felt the beads of water diving beneath the thickness of her golden strands, running along her scalp, cupping her head in their warmth before falling down her forehead to run off her nose and lips and chin.
Once her hair was fully wet, Margot squeezed some of the shimmering pink shampoo from the tube into a puddle on her palm. It smelled flowery, like lilacs. She rubbed her hands together and watched a thick bubbling foam emerge. She ran her hands through her hair and massaged her scalp, encouraging the foamy shampoo to cover every follicle. She let the water from th
e showerhead hit her face while she did this, closing her eyes tightly, occasionally pulling her head out for a quick burst of breath. She could feel the satiny foam streaming down her face and body, over her chest and stomach, down her back and in between her buttocks before rinsing her hair out.
Then she took the small white disk of soap out of its paper wrapping on the shower shelf. She rubbed it between her hands, put down the bar and rubbed the soap suds on her hands all over her face, neck, and arms. She soaped her breasts, rubbing underneath them and around and over them. She rubbed down her stomach, over the tiny dip of her belly button, until she felt the coarseness of her pubic hair. She put both palms on her inner thigh and moved them up into her crotch. She used two fingers and rubbed between all the intricate folds of her labia. She felt a warm, tingling surge of electricity flow down to meet her hands as she rubbed the space directly above her clit.
She lingered there longer than the rest of her body before realizing what she was starting to do and thinking again of how close Jack was. She hadn’t even locked the bathroom door. She imagined him walking in, seeing her like this, all soapy and aroused, imagined he could somehow know what she was doing from his position in the other room.
She was tired of thinking and being afraid. She just wanted to be a physical being for a while, outside the realm of consequences and work and fear and boredom. She wanted to explore her physicality.
She began rubbing her clit more intentionally and to feel increasingly swollen and tender. She imagined Jack walking in and finding her playing with herself. He would be turned on by it, feel compelled to join her in the shower, and kiss her passionately. She began pulsing with her arousal and it was hypnotic. She felt full and sexy and powerful. She had to focus to stifle the small moans that were struggling to escape from her throat.