by Harley Fox
“I don’t have time to explain,” I say, and I take a step toward Samantha. Her body tenses visibly but she doesn’t move back. Good, I think. That’s good. “I need you to cube this car for me and sell us another. We’re headed up north and need not to be seen.”
Her brow furrows as she looks at the black car behind me.
“Cube it? But Lance, this is your car. Why, you’ve had this since-”
“I know how long I’ve had it,” I say, cutting her off. “It doesn’t matter. I just need you to get rid of it for me and sell me another.”
And now a pained look comes over Samantha’s face and my stomach drops.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t have anything to sell you. Not right now, at least. I can cube your car, sure thing, but that’s about all I can do.”
I set my jaw and try not to yell out in rage. Giving Katie a glance — who’s been watching this entire exchange without a word — I step closer to Samantha and say, “Look. If you’re still mad at me, then I’m sorry. Okay? I’m sorry about leaving, but I had to go, you know that. I never said I’d stay here forever.”
Samantha looks at me, and inside her eyes I see that hurt — the last thing I saw the day that I left her. But there’s something else too — a spark. That thing that connected us together all those years ago.
“I appreciate that Lance,” she tells me, “but like I said, I don’t have any cars to sell you. I wish I did, but I don’t.”
I breathe a sigh and look around, out at the desolate yard, and the buildings that surround us. There’s nothing out there but factories.
“Tell you what though,” she says. “There’s a motel not far from here. You two can stay there and I can let you know when my next car comes in. Shouldn’t be more’n a couple of days.”
I look back at her and give it a moment of thought, then nod.
“That’ll have to do, I guess. Thanks, Sam.”
A cute look crosses her face.
“You’re welcome,” she says. Reaching out, she takes a hold of my free hand. “You know Lance … it’s strange, seeing you come down here out of the blue. But you haven’t been far from my thoughts. Especially when I’m alone, falling asleep at night.” Her eyes meet mine and a stirring moves through me, that old feeling that brought me to her in the first place. But there’s something else there too. I can feel Katie watching us and my stomach gives a drop. “D’you wanna maybe … come upstairs and relive old times? That is, if your friend doesn’t mind waiting of course.”
My cock stirs in my pants and muddles my brain, making me question who’s really calling the shots here. But I look over and see Katie looking away from us now and that drop in my stomach again pulls my cock back in. Dropping my gaze from Samantha’s, I gently take my hand out of hers and say, “Sorry, Sam. I can’t do that anymore.”
Samantha nods as she lowers her hand, and then glances over at Katie before raising an eyebrow at me.
“Is it because of her?” she asks, and I don’t say anything. A smile comes over her lips. “Well, fuck me. I never would have pegged you for one to be settling down.”
“I’m not settling,” I say in a rumble. “I just can’t right now. That’s all.”
Even so, she gives me a look before turning to go into her office.
“Whatever you say, stud muffin. Now come on in, I’ll get you set up and call you a cab.”
As Samantha walks away, I call Katie’s name and beckon her to follow us into the office. The building is a two-story metal cube with a loft built up into the top — where Samantha stays most nights of the week. I step inside and breathe in the hot, stuffy air. Even with the air conditioner running full-speed, it’s only marginally cooler in here than outside.
“You two make yourselves comfortable,” Samantha says as she goes behind the desk. I hear Katie step in behind me. “There’s coffee in the pot, if you want it.”
I drop my duffel bag to the floor with a thud and Samantha sits down, picking up the phone and dialing in a number. I see Katie walk over to the coffee pot and I step up beside her.
“Hey,” I say to her in a low voice. “Did you hear what’s going on?”
Katie nods as she grabs a Styrofoam cup, keeping her eyes down as she does.
“The important parts,” she says.
“Good,” I say. “We can hide out at that motel and wait until Samantha can get us a car.”
“Fine,” Katie says, and I furrow my brow at her as she pours black coffee into her cup and sets the pot back. I can tell something’s wrong, so as she’s reaching to grab a lid I put a hand on her arm and she stops. Katie finally looks up at me and I can see that her eyes are full of accusation.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her.
“Nothing,” she says, pulling her arm away and grabbing a lid off the counter. “It’s just that I wasn’t sure if you two wanted me to hang around while you fucked or not.”
I open my mouth, staring down at Katie as she stares right back up at me. It’s a struggle to keep my voice low.
“Apparently you didn’t hear me say that I’m not going to sleep with her,” I snarl, and Katie’s eyes narrow. “But what does that matter to you anyways, huh? I’m not even your patient anymore. Remember?”
“Client,” she spits back. “And you’re right. You’re not.”
Katie picks up her coffee and leaves the office with it before I can say anything else. I feel a part of me wanting to follow her, to convince her that she was wrong, but I hold myself back. Turning away from the table, I walk to the desk where Samantha is just finishing up her conversation.
“Okay, thank you,” she says, hanging up the phone and looking up at me. “The cab’s on their way.”
“Great,” I reply. “How much do I owe you for the cubing?”
But Samantha shakes her head. “It’s on the house.”
I shake my head.
“No, Sam. Let me pay you.”
“Nah. You can call it a parting gift,” she says. “Although, technically you were the one who parted with me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” she says. “Now go on, he said it would only be a few minutes.”
“Thanks, Sam. I really appreciate it,” I say. Digging my car keys out of my pocket, I toss them to her where she catches them one-handed.
“No problem,” she says, pocketing the keys.
I pick up my duffel bag and sling it over my shoulder again, then I turn and head for the door.
“Lance?” she says when I’m halfway outside. I pull back and look to see her giving me a strange smile from behind the desk. “You know … I should have said this before, but … I never got a chance to thank you for what you did.”
I drop my eyes and give a nod.
“It had to be done,” I say. “And I’m just glad I was there to do it.”
And with that I push out the door and step into the brilliant sunshine again.
Katie is a few yards off, her back to me as she sips at her coffee. I walk up to her, my feet crunching on the dry dirt.
“The cab’s coming,” I say to her as I pass by. “Come on.”
I head towards the entrance and a few seconds later hear Katie crunching her way after me. When I pass by the fence and step to the side of the road, Katie steps up beside me. She doesn’t say anything, but I feel the tension between us, thick and uncomfortable.
“Samantha and I knew each other a long time ago,” I say to her in the silence. “She practically grew up on this yard and I used to visit her when I was a teenager.”
Katie doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t take another sip of her coffee. I go on.
“It was just her and her dad living here. He was a drunk and he used to beat her, and sometimes he would go further than that. Touch her when she was sleeping, or make her do things she didn’t want to. It wasn’t until he was finally out of the picture that I shacked up with Samantha, and we spent half a year living here, working hard on this shop till s
he could run the place on her own. That was over a decade ago. I haven’t seen her since.”
Katie takes another sip of her coffee.
“Did you two love each other?” she asks, and I think about it for a moment.
“I think she loved me,” I say. “I’m not sure how I felt towards her.”
Katie nods.
“So you slept with her because you were using her, and you needed a place to stay.” Off in the distance the cab appears, heading up the road towards us.
“Almost,” I say, watching the cab as it approaches. “I had run away from home by that time, so yes, I needed a place to stay. And Sam let me be with her.”
“And what about her father? What happened to him?”
The cab slows down as it pulls up beside us. I watch it come to a stop.
“I killed him for her,” I say, and then I open the back door and slide in, bringing the duffel bag in behind me.
I look out to see Katie down the last of her coffee and then she gets in after me, closing the back door of the car.
“Where to?” asks the cabbie.
“The nearest motel,” I say, and he starts up the meter as the car rolls out onto the road. I see that Katie’s still got the empty coffee cup in her hands.
“Did you really-” she begins, but I cut her off with a “Shh,” indicating the cabbie up front.
“Yes,” I say in a low voice. “I did.”
She hesitates a moment.
“Were you paid?”
I shake my head.
“No. That one was for free.” I look at the cup in her hands. “Why are you still holding that? Why didn’t you get rid of it?”
Katie looks down at it and her cheeks blush a little.
“I didn’t want to litter,” she says, and I can’t help but smile.
The motel isn’t that far away, and I can read the large white sign before we reach it. Espera Inn — ironic, considering this place is practically on the southern border of the city. When the cabbie pulls into the parking lot, I take out some money from my pocket and hand him a ten. I tell him to keep the change and we get out, me slinging my bag over my shoulder. The cabbie turns around and leaves for the city again.
Katie and I walk to the front office and step in through the door. As I walk up to the desk, Katie veers off and throws out the Styrofoam cup in a garbage can. Behind the desk is a large man, balding, and with his elbow on the desk, his head resting in his hand.
“Excuse me,” I say, and his eyelids flutter as he comes back to life. “I’d like a room,” I tell him and he blinks at me before looking at Katie with a half-asleep expression.
“Single, or a double?” he asks when he looks back at me.
“Single,” I say, and I look over to give Katie a glance just as she starts to open her mouth. She closes it again.
“Name?”
“Walter and Shannon Lundgreen,” I say, and the man puts it into his system.
“And how long do you need the room?”
“A few days,” I tell him, and he puts that in too.
He tells me the price and I take the cash out of my pocket, paying him. Then he gives me the key and bids us farewell as Katie and I leave the office together.
“Why did you get us a single room?” Katie asks as we walk toward the stairs. “I am not sleeping in the same bed as you.”
“For the sake of appearances, you and I are going to be married while we’re staying here. Okay?” I say. “And since it’s not the 1950s, that means that we as a married couple are going to share the same bed.”
“You’re sleeping on the floor,” she says, and I stop at the foot of the stairs, looking at her with a smile on my face.
“I’m sleeping on the bed,” I say. “And you can too, if you’d like. It doesn’t make a difference to me one way or the other. Although I must warn you: I like to sleep in the nude, so just a heads up on that.”
Katie opens her mouth but I start up the stairs, walking away from her, still smiling.
“Let me make one thing clear, Lance,” Katie says as she hurries to catch up with me. “We are not having sex. Okay? Do you hear me?”
“That’s what you said in your office,” I reply. “And look what happened there.”
“You took advantage of me!” she says as we reach the top of the stairs. “You … you seduced me!”
“If I seduced you then it wasn’t hard work,” I say, walking along the doors, looking for our room. “In fact, I dare say you enjoyed it.”
“I … didn’t … that’s besides the point,” she says as we stop in front of our door. My smile widens and I look at her to find her blushing again.
“Look,” I say, leaning down. “We’re going to be here until Sam can get us another car. Nobody knows we’re here. Everything that happens is entirely off the books. So what harm would it be for us to enjoy ourselves a little?”
And even though Katie opens her mouth to answer, she doesn’t say anything. Still smiling, I straighten back up and put the key in the lock, opening the motel room door and stepping inside.
Katie
As I watch Lance walk into the motel room, I struggle to quell the heat on my cheeks … and down between my legs. His words echo in my ears, and I shake my head, trying to forget them. Trying to forget him.
But luckily, or unluckily, all thought leaves my brain as I step after him into the room and am hit by a wall of damp, lung-debilitating heat.
“Whoa,” I say, struggling to breathe. “It’s like a sauna in here.”
Lance doesn’t say anything, but he takes a few steps forward, past the door to the bathroom on the right, dropping his duffel bag on the floor next to the bed. The far wall contains a single window, the only one in the room besides the one by the front door, and inside that window sits an air conditioner that doesn’t seem to be on. Lance walks up to it, twists a few knobs, and bangs on the top of it with his fist.
“It’s broken,” he declares.
“Well,” I say, my blouse already sticking to my body. “Can we get a new room?”
But Lance shakes his head.
“I don’t want to give that guy at the front any reason to remember us any more than he does. No switching rooms.”
“Well, what about getting it fixed …”
My words die off as I watch Lance wrap his large arms around the machine and carefully lift it up and out of the window. I stare at him, gawking. I remember one summer trying to put an air conditioner in my window. It took all of me, Amanda, and Doug just to get it off the ground. Lance carries it like it’s no problem, swinging it around and setting it down gently on the floor.
“There,” he says when he stands back up. “Air.”
“That won’t make the guy remember us?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Pulling the air conditioner out of the wall?”
“I’ll put it back when we leave,” he says, taking a step towards me. “But right now I’m hungry, and I want something to eat.” He get closer and then stops in front of me and I feel my heartbeat pick up in my chest. Part of me feels like he’s going to make some comment about eating me out, in which case I have exactly the right retort to say back to him. But instead of that he says, “We passed by a burger place on the way here. What do you want?”
I blink, stunned at the kindness, especially considering how much of a jerk he’s been being.
“Um, a cheeseburger would be great,” I say, and Lance nods.
“Fries?”
“Sure.”
“Coke?”
“Yes.”
He nods again, and then walks past me to the door and leaves, shutting it behind him.
I stare at the closed door for a second, and then I turn, taking another moment to look around at this prison I’ve gotten myself — well, Lance has gotten me — into.
This motel room certainly didn’t come out of the Ritz, that’s for sure. I feel like nobody’s been here for a while, and the lack of air conditioning has made the wallpaper seem sticky and gumm
y. There’s a double bed up against the wall on the right, and across from it sits a TV on top of a table. Against the wall beside the window is a round table with two plastic chairs around it.
Oh yeah, this is going to be a great place to spend a few days.
My eyes travel down to Lance’s duffel bag, where he left it on the floor right beside the bed.
Ugh, typical man. Just leaving his things lying around where anybody could trip and hurt themselves.
I walk over and bend down, grabbing onto the straps and giving it a heave. But when I try to lift it I only succeed in nudging it a bit on the floor, hardly moving it at all.
“What the hell?” I say out loud. What’s in this thing?
My eyes glance to the door, where it’s still closed, and then I squat down and unzip the bag, pulling the sides open to reveal what’s inside.
An audible gasp leaves my mouth. Besides that freak event today in my office, I’ve never seen a real gun close up before. This bag, however, looks like it has at least a dozen! There aren’t just handguns here, either. As I scan over the mess of black metal I see longer ones too — a machine gun? Rifle? Or maybe a shotgun?
I honestly don’t know. I feel my heart hammering inside my chest, and after a few moments of staring, I reach down with a shaking hand and touch them.
Dull metal scrapes together as I move the guns about. The things feel cold and solid against my fingers. I find one of the handguns and pick it up, wrapping my hand around the handle. It’s heavier than it looks, and the barrel is at least eight inches long. I turn it over, admiring it. It feels nice in my grip. I slide my finger in over the trigger, putting my other hand underneath, lifting it up and aiming it at the wall.
KATIE! I scream at myself. What are you doing?!
I shiver runs over me and I blink, as though seeing the thing in my hand for the first time. Pulling my hand out of it and treating it as though it were a poisonous snake, I drop it back down into the bag and get ready to close it. But even so, I don’t pull the sides together. Not yet.
I look over the machines inside again, staring at them, enamored. Inside my belly there’s a strange stirring that I know isn’t coming from hunger. I reach inside again to touch the barrels and handles, and then I see other things, folded up at the bottom and just poking out.