The Lady is a Thief

by Aimee Nicole Walker

  “It wasn’t like that,” she said, pleading with her voice and eyes for me to understand something that would never make sense to me. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Please, Elijah,” Jack said from the doorway. “She’s on complete bed rest because of a high-risk pregnancy. It’s too soon, and our son won’t survive if Brandy goes into labor now. She can’t take this kind of stress, brother.”

  “Don’t you call me that, Jack. You’re fucking dead to me,” I snarled. His cautionary words had the effect he wanted though, because no matter how much I hated them, I would never want to cause harm to their unborn son.

  “Take it out on me, br… Elijah. I deserve it; I can take it. Please leave her alone.”

  “Outside now,” I commanded.

  Jack followed me, head held high, and took his ass-whooping on his front lawn without trying to defend himself or even deflect my blows. It was a good start, but it did nothing to slake the bloodlust pumping through my veins. The sky opened and pelted me with rain, but even that couldn’t diminish the fires raging through me. I left Jack lying nearly unconscious on his front lawn in the pouring rain and drove to the nearest bar to find trouble. I found it fast. I took on three of them who were as angry about life as I was and willing to fight back.

  I woke up in the hospital a few days later thinking I’d been in some sort of accident and Brandy’s betrayal with Jack was nothing more than a bad dream. One look into my mother’s eyes told me otherwise. Anger rose swift and hard inside me. “Get out.” She should’ve told me instead of letting me find out like that. Tears streamed down my face as I recalled seeing Brandy’s pregnant stomach because she was supposed to cradle my babies beneath her heart, not my… Jack’s.

  “Son,” my father, Jack Sr., said in his thunderous voice. I didn’t know he was even in the room. “Don’t take this out on your mother.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked between racking sobs.

  “We didn’t know how.” My mom reached for my hands, but I jerked away from her.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  “Do not talk to your mother like that,” my father snarled. The gunnery sergeant was as gritty and badass as they came, except when it came to my mama. “What happened to you is terrible, but we can’t undo it. We just need to find a way to move forward. Adapt and improvise.”

  “How easily would you have adapted and improvised if mom fucked Uncle Stan while you were in Vietnam?”

  My father’s growl snarled in his throat, and he balled his fist in preparation to fight me. It was obvious just hearing the words brought out a murderous rage in my father’s heart. “You can’t even stand hearing the words, so you try to imagine seeing it with your own eyes, Jack.” He stopped being my father in that moment. “You can shove ‘adapt and improvise’ up your ass, Jack, and both of you can get the fuck out of here.”

  “No, Elijah,” my mom said tearfully then turned to my father. “Stop being such a hard-ass. What they did to Elijah is inconceivable.”

  “Jack is our son too, Brenda. Are we supposed to cast him aside over Brandy’s infidelity?”

  “Did she drug him before she fucked him?” I asked sourly. Don’t get me wrong, I was furious over Brandy’s betrayal, but it wasn’t hers alone. It took two to fuck me over. His precious namesake owned half of the blame too, but he didn’t want to hear that. Jack could do no wrong in his eyes, not even getting my wife pregnant while I fought a war. I had begged my whole life for the man’s attention, even joined the military to follow in his footsteps hoping it would make him proud. It was a hateful reality to know that he’d choose a lying, philandering asshole for a kid over me. “Don’t give him a pass because he’s your firstborn and namesake.” I left off favorite, even though it applied as well.

  “I’d think someone in as much pain as you’re surely in would be a little smarter,” he sneered at me. “You don’t get to suck us into a war between brothers over a piece of faithless ass.”

  “I also don’t have to give a shit about a parent who can’t spare an ounce of compassion for his son who just had his motherfucking world turned upside down! Get out!” My blood pressure soared, making the pain in my head throb worse, and sounding the alarms for the nurses. “I don’t need you! I don’t need anyone! Get out!”

  My mom cried harder with every word I shouted, but I couldn’t stop myself. Right then I felt she was as complicit as the others in my betrayal because of her silence. “Please forgive me,” she whispered as the nurses shoved past her and administered mind-and pain-numbing medications that helped me slide into a blissful, dark hole.

  Something yanked me from my turbulent sleep; I came out swinging and snarling as piercing pain seized my heart. I rubbed my hand over my chest, but it did nothing to alleviate the agony that those memories elicited in me. I eventually repaired my fractured relationship with my mom, but in the past ten years, I hadn’t stepped foot in their house, or talked to my father, Jack, or his wife. I knew that Jack and Brandy had a few kids together, but I’d never met them.

  I heard Maegan’s metal gate slowly creak open from beneath my window, putting me on high alert. I eased out from beneath the covers and softly walked to the window.

  “I wonder if she’s home?” a teenage boy asked hopefully.

  “You’re just hoping to get a glimpse of her tits,” a sullen teenage girl replied. I imagined her eyes were rolling up in the back of her head.

  The entire thing would’ve been funny if I’d been in the right mood. I yanked my curtain open and peered down at the two kids as they entered Maegan’s gate and headed across her yard. Sure enough, they left the gate hanging wide open.

  Fury lit my ass up, and I jerked the window open. “Hey, assholes! Close her fucking gate! You left it open the other night and Lulu got out. Luckily she didn’t get hit by a motherfucking car.”

  “Oh no!” the girl said, covering her mouth. Her eyes widened when she saw my bare chest, and her face turned pink for reasons other than embarrassment.

  The boy wasn’t nearly as impressed. He puffed up like a fucking rooster and challenged me with a look before he opened his mouth. “Who the hell are you? The gate police?”

  I grabbed my wallet off the dresser and flipped it open for him to see my Blissville Police Department badge. “Gate Detective,” I clarified, “but I’ll answer to Detective Markham also.” I closed my wallet and pointed at the punk. “Stop creeping around here trying to get a glimpse of Ms. Miracle’s tits! That’s fucking pervy and the first step to becoming a serial killer.” Okay, that was probably overkill because any straight dude with a pulse would want a peep at Maegan’s tits.

  The girl’s giggle was muffled by her gloves, but we both still heard it. Her male companion didn’t find anything funny about the exchange and stomped back out of Maegan’s yard.

  “We’re sorry, Detective Markham,” the girl said.

  I nodded. “Don’t cut through her yard anymore. It’s rude.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, closing the gate and scrambling after her friend. She caught up to him two houses down, and I smiled when they started to argue and gesture toward my window.

  I closed the window and curtains then returned to my bed. A smile spread across my face over the incident until I realized the real reason for my ire wasn’t that the boy wanted to see Maegan’s tits, it was because I didn’t want anyone else besides me seeing them. Ever.

  Fuck! Nothing good would come from this.

  “THIS IS SO GROSS,” MILO said shuddering. “I can’t believe Thom Renzo didn’t think to put bulbs in the sockets so that we could at least have better light than just our flashlights.”

  “Think of it as a grand adventure,” Memphis said excitedly.

  Sweeping my flashlight from left to right, I stepped forward into the cellar. “You can go back upstairs if you’re bothered by dirt and dust, Milo. Memphis and I will be at this awhile.” There were boxes stacked on top of boxes in every direction. I had learned long ago that the pack rat
gene wasn’t isolated to a specific income class. I had a feeling that the Renzo estate was going to be the jackpot, but it would require both grit and patience. One of those traits came more natural to me than the other.

  Patience was especially hard to come by after the week I had. It started off with Thom Renzo putting me off for a week after he’d already given me the green light. He waited until Milo, Memphis, and I were on our way to his parents’ home the previous Friday before he canceled our appointment through the real estate agent. I was immediately suspicious because Becker said that he wouldn’t confirm another date when I could come out. It sounded shady to me, but I tried to look on the bright side instead of thinking that the squirrelly fucker gave someone else first crack at the good stuff.

  Friday night at home wasn’t a depressing option though when I lived next to an extraordinarily sexy man who rocked my world in ways I never dreamed possible. After the way we connected, I was sure he would be just as eager to have me again as I was him. Elijah had told me that he was off duty until Monday and I figured there was no better way for him to pass a cold winter weekend than getting naked and burying his dick inside me. Hell, I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face as I dropped Milo and Memphis off at their homes because I was certain of the way I’d spend the night. I pictured a strong, powerful body between my legs, or beneath me, hot kisses that stretched into hours, and more orgasms than I could count.

  Except, his house was dark and his truck was gone when I pulled into my driveway. I didn’t let that deter me. I took a shower and made sure all of me was smooth and soft everywhere before I slid into my Wonder Woman pajamas. I didn’t want to be too obvious that I was attempting to seduce him, so I went without a bra since he seemed to like that the first time, and situated my silk pj pants low on my hips so he could get a peek at the belly button ring I slid into place. I thought the little flash of silver would capture his attention and make him want to put his mouth on my stomach before he kissed a path lower.

  I settled in my recliner beneath his blanket that I had failed to return to him and waited for the rumble of his ginormous truck. Hours ticked by, giving me too much time to think. Had I dreamt him? I pushed my pajama bottoms down enough to see the love bite he left on my mound above my clit. Nope, he was real. Just looking at it turned me on, but I refrained from making myself come. I knew that whatever he gave me would be a hundred times better than anything I did solo.

  The rumble never came Friday night, nor did it come during anytime on Saturday. Elijah didn’t return home until late Sunday evening. Of course, I didn’t sit my sappy ass in that chair with his blanket the entire weekend. I wasn’t that girl anymore dammit! I was mature, and I had a busy life. I didn’t sit around and pine after a man. No, I did fun things and… Who am I trying to fool? I worked long hours Saturday and Sunday so that I wouldn’t pine after Elijah’s dick. When I wasn’t working, I was wrapped in that stupid fucking blanket with Lulu while I beat myself up for being so damn stupid. Again.

  It was just sex, Maegan. Earth-shattering, life-affirming, saw-fireworks-behind-my-eyelids sex, but still sex. Don’t confuse that with real affection just because he made you come.

  That might’ve been true, but that didn’t squelch the arousal that crested inside me when I smelled him on my sheets and pillowcase. Nor did it stop me from pretending it was his hands or lips teasing my nipples and clit or his dick inside me instead of a vibrator when my lust from knowing he was nearby made it too hard to sleep Sunday night.

  Monday dawned bright and sunny, even though it was nip-hardening cold. The thought occurred to me that I should walk my ass over to Elijah’s house and offer him a free Danish and coffee as a welcome to the Blissville PD, but I heard him leaving while I was in the shower. Sure, I was disappointed but convinced I’d have the chance to talk to him that evening.

  I wasn’t wrong. Elijah was taking his trash can to the curb for Tuesday trash pickup when I pulled into my driveway. I got out of my SUV with a big smile on my face, but it melted when I saw the hesitation in his eyes during his tepid greeting. A sinking feeling took root in my stomach that Elijah had deliberately avoided me all weekend, and he couldn’t have been more obvious that my attention wasn’t welcome.

  I was proud of the way I handled myself though. I didn’t flip him off or give him a reason he could use to justify his abrupt change in attitude toward me. I offered him a small smile and wished him a nice evening, even though I wanted to kick over his trash can. Once inside, I allowed myself to feel the disappointment; in fact, I embraced the sting of rejection and used it as fuel. I marched up to my room, stripped my bed and tossed it all in the washing machine. I should’ve washed the blanket I borrowed from him too, but I wasn’t quite ready to wash his scent off everything just yet. I planned to return it to Elijah after enough time passed that I didn’t look like I was using it as an excuse to see him.

  I wasn’t that girl. When it was over; it was over. I wouldn’t beg him for attention nor would I leave my window open a crack to give him a taste of what he was missing. I nailed that window shut, knowing it was best to move on and find a guy who knew what he wanted and wasn’t emotionally closed off. If that never happened, at least I had my friends, family, a career I loved, and my precious Lulu.

  I stuck to my guns all week long and only masturbated to the memories of him twice, but I saw that as progress. My heart and mind were certain that I no longer wanted anything to do with Elijah Markham, but my body mourned his absence in our life. My clit pulsed every time I heard the rumble of his truck, but she wasn’t running the show.

  “I can handle dirt and dust,” Milo said, pulling me back to reality. “It’s the thought of finding a dead body that bothers me.

  “Milo, there’s nothing to be afraid of down—” A big, hairy spider dropped from the ceiling on its web right in front of my face. I screamed loud enough to wake the dead body if there was one, then followed it with “OH MY FUCKING GOD!” when the spider swung toward me instead of scampering to get away. I felt it crawl across my forehead and into my hair. “GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT!” I dropped my flashlight and did the crazy, spider-in-the-hair dance while thrashing my head around and shaking the strands furiously so the bastard would fall out.

  “Hold still and I’ll help you,” Memphis said seriously. He tried to keep up with my constant turns to the left and right. I felt his hands on my head, but I just knew if I stopped moving the spider would crawl inside my ear and lay eggs that would eventually hatch and burrow inside my brain. Left, right, left again. I turned, pivoted, and circled around like I was doing the spider samba.

  Memphis stepped forward and reached for my head again, but I turned and bumped him with my elbows, knocking his flashlight out of his hands too. Then I stumbled into the rest of the web, where I was certain the spider’s family was waiting to pounce on me. I screamed and waved my arms around trying to get free while Memphis bobbed and weaved to avoid my fists and elbows.

  “You’re okay, Maegan,” Memphis said soothingly. “Just calm down.”

  What did my twin brother do? He doubled over laughing at the spectacle I made, and in doing so, aimed his flashlight down toward the dirt-packed floor of the storage cellar. All three flashlight beams were aimed in different directions on the ground and not in the air where I was desperately trying to untangle myself from the killer, brain-eating spiders.

  Milo’s laughter died as quickly as it started. “Oh, fuck!”

  “Oh my God! Are there more of them? How many? I can’t see anything!”

  “We have bigger problems than that one tiny spider, Maegan.”

  I wanted to argue that it was a huge, brain-devouring spider, but the seriousness of Milo’s tone stopped me in my tracks. I looked in the direction I last saw him and followed his beam of light. “Is that blood?”

  “Yes,” Milo said. “A lot of it. And there’s a trail leading back behind those boxes.”

  “Is someone down here with us?” Memphis asked, sou
nding like the lead guy on his favorite ghost hunting show.

  “Let’s go back upstairs and call nine-one-one,” I said. I was no expert, but it wasn’t likely that whoever lost that much blood was still alive to tell about it.

  The three of us got upstairs as quickly as we could and waited for the police to arrive in my SUV. Unfortunately for me, the first of the BPD’s finest to arrive on the scene was the last one that I wanted to see.

  A few of the officers came to my SUV and informed us that Detective Markham wanted to separate us for individual interviews. Why couldn’t he tell us that? We were put in three separate squad cars, but at least they left the engines running to keep us warm. I appreciated the gesture, but shock, fear, and isolation caused my body to shake so hard my teeth rattled. I watched as more officers showed up, followed by the crime scene guys, and our county coroner. That’s when I realized the situation was as bad as I had feared.

  I wanted to see Elijah and hear him tell me that I was going to be okay. Instead, he didn’t look in my direction after his initial shock that I was at his crime scene. He just went about his investigation, which included talking to Milo and Memphis then sending them home in the back of their squad cars. I knew that neither of them chose to leave me by myself at the crime scene. Why isolate me? It was like Elijah was angry at me or something, but he would have to care about me for that to happen.

  I felt my blood drain when the coroner loaded the black bag into the back of his van and drove off. There was only a scattering of officers and crime scene personnel on the scene by the time that Elijah could no longer delay talking to me. He approached the squad car with long, confident strides and pulled the rear passenger door open briskly. I expected him to ask me to step out of the car like he had Memphis and Milo, but instead, he climbed in beside me and shut the door.