Redemption

by Sam J. D. Hunt

  “None taken.”

  “Well listen, if your brother fucks anything like you apparently do, I might just need to slip him my number.”

  Andy pulled out his phone. “Are you on any of the swipe apps?”

  “What the fuck does that even mean?”

  “Dating apps, duh,” they said in unison.

  “I don’t do that shit,” Jake offered up to no one.

  “I didn’t even know that existed. You meet people on the phone? And do what?”

  “Hook up,” Andy blurted out.

  The dark haired chick smacked him playfully. “Date! You date. And then you hook up.”

  “I’m just sad that you need an app for that, Andy. Sad, really.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Are you all staying to hear Tommy play later?”

  “No,” I said as my two buddies gave her a resounding yes.

  “We haven’t met?” I asked her.

  “No, silly. But I know everything about you. I sent over that rare burger with extra cheese earlier as a joke.”

  “I’m lost.”

  “But the burger was delicious,” Jake said.

  “Tara is my best friend. I’m Maddie.”

  “Ah,” I said with the nod of my head.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t recognize me!”

  “We’ve never met.”

  “I can’t believe she didn’t describe me! Silly girl. Anyway, did you hear about my succulent? I’m sure she told you what I named it?”

  “Um, no. Why don’t you go call her? She’s probably bored there alone with the baby.” I was desperate to get rid of her.

  “She’s not bored! Grace just had a blow-out diaper, and then she wouldn’t burp.”

  “So Maddie, what did you think about Grace’s birth weight?”

  “Don’t get me started on that!” And then, to our horror, she pulled a chair up to our table. “Truly six pounds, eight ounces isn’t terrible, but I think these pregnant mothers giving up all this stuff is just making for weaklings. When I have kids, I’m not going to coddle those fetuses.”

  “You just used the word fetuses really loud in a bar,” Jake said, swallowing his laughter.

  “Well yes.” Then she smacked me again, because she was one of those people who can’t talk to you without punctuating with body contact.

  “By the way, I’m sure she told you all about my eggs…”

  Tara

  “She’s so fucking slippery!”

  I had to laugh the next night after dinner while watching this giant man try to bathe a tiny baby in the plastic tub in his kitchen sink.

  “Are you using the baby wash I sent?”

  I walked over to help him rinse Grace’s hair.

  “No, it had like weird ingredients and shit. I special ordered this instead.”

  “You live in a hundred-dollar trailer, have furniture from 1972, but pay forty bucks for organic, vegan, blessed by gold-plated monks baby soap?”

  “Of course I do,” he said, reaching for the bottle. “That other stuff doesn’t matter. Her skin matters.”

  With a big dollop of the over-priced product, he once again attempted to move her flailing, pudgy legs aside to wash underneath her. “What do you use on your own skin, Tara?”

  I tried to think of what was currently in my shower. “I think I ran out the other day and grabbed the dish soap.”

  He turned to me, biting his lip. “That’s just irresponsible. And wrong.”

  “I get busy. And distracted. And…chaotic.”

  “Unacceptable,” he said. He turned back to the baby, once again trying to hold on to her slippery, wet skin. “I’m coming over tomorrow to get you organized.”

  “No, you can’t!” The thought of him anywhere near my condo made me panic.

  “Oh, I’m so gonna. We’re about to spark some fucking joy in your abode, baby doll.”

  Desperate to change the subject, I wrapped my arms around his waist. “Honestly, the easiest way is just to take her into the tub with you.”

  “Holy shit no!” He reached for the plastic drain.

  “It’s not creepy, Shawn, honestly. She’s a baby.”

  “No, I don’t mean that. I mean getting in to a bathtub.”

  “What? I’d take baths all the time if my tub were…”

  “If it were what?”

  “Uh, clean.”

  I cringed at the thought of my gorgeous Jacuzzi tub, the one that was currently holding baskets of un-put-away laundry. The same tub that had some sort of pink film growing from the last time I used it for its intended purpose.

  “I’m scrubbing your tub, you messy thing. But no, I’m not into sitting in water containing filth.”

  “Shawn, your bathtub is spotless. Seriously, I’d eat dinner off of it.”

  “Of course it is. But no, no still water for me. Never.”

  “After Grace goes down, we’re getting in. Together. Naked. Surrounded by suds.”

  “Naked, yes, suds, maybe, in the tub with water, no.”

  “I’ll let you shave me,” I said in the most seductive voice possible. “Everywhere.”

  “Yeah, then we’d be sitting in our own freaking filth surrounded by used hair bits. Seriously, Tara, what the fuck goes on in that beautiful head of yours?”

  “Okay, then, what will it take to make it happen?”

  “Not soaking in fucking Dawn dish detergent, for one thing.” He pursed his lips at me.

  “Done. We’ll use your thousand dollar man-wash, curated in the Himalayas by virgins and swam over one bottle at a time by Michael Phelps himself.”

  “Funny,” he said, wrapping Grace in her hooded towel.

  “Name your price then.”

  “We use my products, yes. We keep the faucet running, I get to indulge in my foot fetish, and…”

  “And?”

  “I get to put it in that place you haven’t let me yet.”

  “You’ve put it there.”

  “No, not my tongue. The other thing.”

  I nodded, the excitement of yet another new thing coursing through me. “You drive a hard bargain.”

  “Oh it’ll be hard, but I’m never a bargain.”

  It seemed to take forever that night for Grace to finally go to sleep.

  But a little past ten, she was worn out. Thug snored underneath her crib as we turned on the baby monitor.

  “Does he always sleep there?” I asked, looking at the elderly gentle giant of a dog.

  “Yeah, since the day she arrived. He used to guard me like that, but he knows that Grace is far more important.”

  “You’re both important.” I pointed toward the door. “Now, tub time for the sexy baby daddy.”

  “We’re keeping the faucet running,” he said as we walked toward the one bathroom.

  “Nope, wastes water.”

  “I’m showering after,” he argued.

  “Oh, we can do all sorts of things in the shower after. But first, we’re going to get really dirty.”

  “So wait, you had dirty anal tub sex?” Maddie asked way too loud in the crowded restaurant the next morning.

  “Stop it!” I hissed at her.

  I looked around at the diners near us in the popular brunch place. It was Sunday, and on Sunday we always did brunch. I honestly didn’t want to leave Sam’s Town, or his bed, or his tub, but I also didn’t want to be that kind of friend.

  “Well?”

  “The tub was clean.”

  She filled our champagne flutes from the carafe that contained unlimited mimosas for ten bucks. “And the sex?”

  “Filthy!” I said with a giant grin.

  “I must admit that I’m quite jealous that my innocent friend is having way better sex than this horny vixen.”

  “Didn’t you go to speed dating last night?”

  “Yeah, but it turned into speed fucking.”

  I shushed her once again as the two proper ladies next to us sneered.

  “So this guy comes t
he second his gherkin-sized dick is in – just jizzes like a teen with his first hard-on.” Her tone wasn’t any lower, and the women next to us weren’t any less judgmental.

  “So he was excited. You should take that as a compliment, Maddie.”

  “I want headboard thumping, cervix banging intercourse – not compliments.”

  “Well,” I said, leaning in close. “The first time he, you know, put his you know what on my you know what, I was done in like minutes.”

  She pointed her croissant at me. “Wait. I don’t know what. Use grown-up terms, please.”

  I went down to a near whisper. “The first time he put his mouth on my vagina—”

  “Oh my god, stop! Go back to the thing one in the thing two or whatever. I just felt like I was in health class.”

  One of the overly dressed women looked over at us, her sneer going from one side of her facelift to the other. “She’s talking about cunnilingus.”

  “Yeah, thanks, I’m pretty sure that dried me up so much actual sand just trickled from my cunt.”

  Yes, Maddie said the last word as loud as she possibly could.

  I cringed. “Could we possibly save see-you-next-Tuesday for after five?”

  “It’s five o’clock somewhere. And it’s just a word. Cunt, cunt, cunt.”

  “Stop! Hard limit, please, enough with the c-word over eggs!”

  She took a bite from her croissant. “Fine. But speaking of eggs…”

  “Why do I have a feeling you’re not going to be talking about food?”

  “I’m having mine frozen.”

  “Wait, what? Since when have you ever wanted children? You can’t even keep a succulent alive.”

  “Damn things hate me, I can’t help that. But a baby would love me.”

  “Um, well, I guess there’s no harm in the egg freezing. In the future when you find the right person, you’ll be ready.”

  “Nope, I’m just going to get a sperm donor.”

  “I don’t think that’s a great idea for you in the near future.”

  “It would be cute. I could dress it up, take it out to shows, you know, all of that.”

  “Very bad idea.”

  “I was hoping you’d ask your murderer.”

  “Ask him what? And don’t call him that.” The ladies were staring again, naturally.

  “His kid is cute. That pic on Facebook with the big eyes and everything? Gorgeous.”

  “Wait, no, you want my boyfriend to be your sperm donor?”

  “Oh he’s your boyfriend now? Damn, because it would be way cheaper and a lot more fun if we did it the no-middleman way.”

  “You’re not having sex with my boyfriend!”

  “You never did share well, Tara.”

  “Not penises, no.”

  “How about your dad, then? That cowboy is hotter than a tourist’s skin caught in the Vdara pool death ray.”

  “I’m pretty sure that having a child with my father is forbidden under some sort of best friend clause?”

  “I’ll check. But anyway, let me tell you about this other guy I met. He has the world’s largest…”

  No, it wasn’t anything that you would want to be large, and I was pretty unable to finish my over-priced brunch after she gave the whole restaurant the sordid details.

  I went back to my condo to change before heading to Shawn’s. At the gate, I searched everywhere for my gate card. It was nowhere, and even worse, I couldn’t remember the code.

  Finally, after four tries, I found a neighbor who actually agreed to buzz me in.

  “Hank’s up to shit,” I said out loud as I rolled up to my parking space. And there he was at my front door.

  In a cold sweat, I walked up to him.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “We came to organize your life.”

  I leaned down to Grace, who was content in the carrier strapped across her daddy’s broad chest.

  “Hey my darling,” I said to her in my talk-to-a-baby voice. Cool on the outside, yes, but I was a mess on the inside.

  And the one time I wished he wouldn’t, he leaned down to kiss me.

  I nervously glanced up at the camera in the corner, praying it wasn’t bugged.

  “Well this is a surprise. How did you get in the gate?”

  “I borrowed the card from you car.”

  “You stole my gate card?”

  “Borrowed. I couldn’t surprise you otherwise, now could I?”

  “I’m not really one for surprises,” I said, opening the front door and gesturing them inside.

  “Hey, I get you’re embarrassed about mess. That’s why we’re here – to get you living your best life.”

  “My best life,” I repeated, shoving a massive pile of mail into a random drawer.

  “You have to go through that, Tara. Not just sweep it under the rug.”

  My eyes met his, his meaning clear. “This isn’t about my clutter, is it, Shawn?”

  He unstrapped Grace and laid her on the couch, surrounding her with pillows. She was starting to roll.

  “It’s about the fact that we’ve been together for weeks now in a way I’ve never been. I’ve felt things I’ve never felt – shared more with you than most people will ever know. But yet, I didn’t even know where you live.”

  “Clearly you do.”

  “I can find out anything, Tara. I’m a thug remember? Just a white trash Sam’s Town trailer dweller to you, I bet. Certainly not classy enough to be here in the million dollar ‘burbs with you.”

  “That’s bullshit,” I said, shocking him with a rare swear word.

  “Then why have we never been invited here? Why do I only see you at my place, in secret?”

  “I told you.”

  “Yeah, you told me. You’re so afraid of this supposed ex that we can’t go even go out to dinner on this side of town. Are you sure he’s an ex, Tara?”

  His steely eyes settled on my ring finger.

  “It’s not like that,” I said quietly. Anger turned to fear. I didn’t want to lose this man, but yet, Hank had made my life a living hell for years.

  “What is it like?”

  “I hate him! I’ve divorced him twice.”

  “That means you married him twice.”

  “Because I had to.”

  “Had to,” he repeated.

  He lifted Grace from her nest on my couch and strapped her back into the carrier.

  “Please don’t go.” I reached for him, but he pulled back.

  His face softened for a moment. “I can protect you from him, if that’s truly the issue. Trust me.”

  “I don’t need protecting. Dangerous men protecting me is what got me into this hell in the first place.”

  “I can help with your brother. I know people. Powerful people.”

  “Oh, so Saints and Sinners are going to just bust my little bro out of the Clark County Jail?”

  He shook his head and picked up the diaper bag. I was losing him, and I wasn’t sure if I ever really had him in the first place.

  “Let me know when you’re free, okay?”

  “Yeah, well, let me know when you can actually tell me you…”

  He froze, waiting.

  “Care,” I finally said. But we both know that wasn’t the word I’d left hanging.

  Twelve

  I Like My Edge Fully On

  Mack

  “I did it, Shawn. I did it,” she said on my doorstep that night.

  It was one of those rare late summer nights when it was raining in Vegas. So rare that it just seemed surreal, like those old film noir movies I used to watch in prison.

  “You did what? Organized the mountain of papers?”

  “I ended it with that monster.”

  My eyes searched hers, confused. “I thought it was ended.”

  “No, I mean his control of me. I can’t live my life under some blackmail threat against my brother.”

  “No, you can’t.”

  “I threw the ring at him! E
ven better, he’s screwing around with the Chief’s wife – and I have proof.”

  Her eyes danced with joy, with freedom. And the best part was that she was back to me. That afternoon, I’d thought we were through forever and it had hurt. Hurt worse than I ever knew was possible.

  “Wow, that’s great! I knew you were strong enough to get rid of that asshole.”

  “I know! I should have done it years ago. Finally Hank Larsen is in my past.”

  And then the world starting spinning.

  “Hank Larsen? The Metro PD detective?”

  She nodded, a giant smile on her face. Hers was real, but mine was a plastered on fake. “I never wanted you to know his name because I thought you’d go after him and he’s dangerous.”

  “Well, you’re safe now,” I said, trying to sound believable.

  “I can’t live my life looking over my shoulder.”

  “No, no one should.” I took a deep breath and reached for her, pulling her into my arms.

  Her beautiful head nuzzled into my shoulder, and I couldn’t bear to tell her the trouble we were in.

  I glanced around the parking lot. There was no way a demon like Hank Larsen was going to let her go, and certainly not to me.

  Once we were inside, I pulled on my heavy boots and went next door to Jake’s. I’d made up some lame excuse about why I needed to run out.

  “Watch over them, just for an hour or two.” I told Jake. “From here, without Tara knowing.”

  “Are the Russian pimps hassling you over the baby mama?”

  “Right now, they’re the least of my worries. The ex-husband cop she was afraid of? Larsen.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah, shit. Do you know how to use this?”

  He nodded. “But hurry. I may have done time, but a gangster I am not.”

  I gave him a friendly tap on the shoulder, another first for me. “Thanks, Bro. I owe ya.”

  “Oh no, no, no! That will not do.”

  Mo sat next to me at the smoky casino bar. At that moment, I desperately wanted a cigarette. Instead, I ordered another water, also wishing I still drank.

  I waited a minute for the bartender to move out of earshot. “I know. It’s dire, right?”