Zandor

by M. J. Fields

  I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Alrighty then. I was just going to ask if you were alright.”

  She pulled her knees up to her chest and put her feet on my seat, and no it didn’t piss me off, annoyed me a little but it was alright…I guess. Her head was buried in her knees when I stopped at the stop sign.

  “Bekah, where to?”

  “This was a really bad idea. I can’t do this, I can’t be here.”

  “Whatever you want I got you so just…”

  “A left and then four stop signs take a right. First big old white house on the left.”

  She was a fucking mess so I reached over and grabbed her hand. You know friends do that shit.

  She laughed, that annoyed, angry laugh but held on real tight.

  She pointed to the big old white house and I pulled in the driveway, “Stay to the right or the Coronel will be pissed when he gets home.

  I did as she asked and she hopped out and stretched.

  I grabbed the bags out of the back and looked over at her staring at the house. She was just about in tears so I walked up, dropped the bags and gave her a hug.

  “This was a real bad idea, you’re going to wonder what kind of girl you employed. What you were thinking driving me all this way. You’re going to…”

  “Come on now look at me.” I lifted her chin. “I did it with a vacuum cleaner.”

  That made her smile and I wiped away the tears.

  “We’re friends, Bekah. In my book the only thing stronger than friendship is family. I got your back girl.” She jumped when the Jeep pulled in and wiped her face before stepping back. “Don’t stress this, I’m gonna help you through it.”

  My blood was boiling. I wanted to beat the shit out of the man making my Kitten feel this way. My whole body felt tense, I could even feel the hair on the back of my neck raise a bit. I wanted to hurt him like he had hurt my sweet little Kitten. Did I just say MY? Yeah I did—twice. I am so fucked.

  “You’re early. His voice boomed as soon as his feet hit the driveway.” He eyed me up and down and then did the same to her.

  I felt myself step closer to her and she looked up at me nervously and then back at him.

  “We made good time.” She smiled and took an uncomfortable step toward him.

  After the quickest most awkward hug I had ever witnessed she was back by my side. I grabbed her hand with one of mine and she looked at me again.

  “You going to introduce me to your…friend, Rebekah?”

  “Oh sorry, Zandor Steel, this is my father, Lance George.”

  I stuck my other hand out and he raised his eyebrow and looked at my forearm, my ink, “Nice to meet you sir. You have a beautiful place here.”

  “Provided for by the country I defend every day.” He gave me a firm handshake and I gave it right back.

  “It’s an honorable thing to do sir.” I nodded.

  “Yes and what is it that you do?” His superior tone irked me and then he eyed my ink again.

  “Dad…”

  “No, Bekah, it’s cool. I’m an artist.”

  “Tattoo artist?” his condescending voice most definitely rubbed me the wrong fucking way.

  “Yes, a tattoo artist.”

  “I see.” He raised his eyebrow at her and she looked toward the house.

  “What can I do to help?” was her attempt at changing the direction of this conversation.

  ~

  Walking in the house, I was reminded of growing up on bases all over the world. Of course we never had a house this big nor had it felt this cold.

  “We eat at fourteen hundred hours. The turkey is in the oven, the sides still need preparing.” His tone was authoritative and seemed to snap her to attention.

  I gave out a subconscious huff that brought four eyes directly to me.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “No sir, I was just taking it all in.”

  “You think this is a joke?”

  “Dad!”

  “No, Bekah, it’s not a problem.” I looked back at him. “My father served this country too, so did my brother. I was raised on Navy bases. So again, I was just taking it in.”

  “Navy?”

  “Yes, sir.” I was overdoing the sir shit on purpose, fucker!

  The man reminded me of my niece’s paternal Grandfather Lee. Who was also my father’s commanding officer, and the reason Jase wasn’t at the hospital when his girlfriend died giving birth to his daughter. Lee was the reason my parents sold everything they could to pay for legal services trying to get custody or at least visitation so that Little Bell could know her father, and all of us, her family. I hated that fucker. This douche called his daughter a slut, she was jumpy as hell around him, and the fucking twinkle in her eye was completely gone, bastard!

  “Why don’t you take your things to your room, Rebekah.” He glanced down at her bags.

  She looked at me and I smiled and she let out a little breath.

  “You remember where it is, don’t you?”

  “Yes Dad, I was here for Easter remember?” she rolled her eyes. “Be right back.”

  “You need some help?”

  “She’s plenty capable, go Rebekah.”

  She grabbed her bags and disappeared to the back of the house.

  “Your full name?” He stood arms crossed with a scowl on his face.

  “Zandor Steel and yours?”

  “Listen, you tattooed punk-ass city boy. I have a fucking arsenal at my disposal and if you for one minute think you’re going to follow my daughter up those stairs and spread her apart under my roof you’ve got another thing coming.”

  His disdain couldn’t have been more clear to me. I heard her coming down the stairs and I forced myself to take a step back. What happened next sickened me. The way he looked at her was no different than the way he looked at me. The contempt he showed for his own daughter made me fight with every fiber of my being from ripping him apart.

  “Show me the kitchen, Bekah, I’d like to help.” I stepped in front of him so she couldn’t see the way he looked at her. Like it mattered, she already knew.

  ~

  Fortunately he was called away, apparently one of his soldiers was drunk and causing a problem at the base pool hall. He left with stern instructions to get things started.

  Bekah immediately opened the pantry and grabbed a sack of potatoes and a peeler from the drawer.

  “Got another one?”

  She looked up at me and tried to smile.

  She handed me hers and looked at the ground. “Sorry, this was really nice of you but it’s…”

  “Colonel Sanders is a douche, Bekah. I’m not judging you because of that.”

  “It’s gonna get worse.” She dumped the bag of potatoes into the sink.

  “I’m a big boy.” I stood next to her and nudged her.

  She smiled and turned on the water to rinse the potatoes.

  ~

  Dinner went very well—the hell it did!

  Apparently her mother took off with another man when Rebekah had graduated from high school. Bekah had a brother, Chris, who also left a year before. No mention of why, but his face puckered like an asshole even worse when he spoke about him. The fucker didn’t even ask how he was, Bekah just said he was doing good and that she still talked to him every day.

  “He’s the reason you moved to New Jersey.”

  It wasn’t a question it was just stated with that puckered asshole look on his face that I so desperately wanted to smack off of that smug bastard.

  When dinner was finished he stood, and pushed out his chair. “I need to make a couple calls. You can get this.” He pointed to the table.

  “It was nice meeting you, Zandor, I assume you have a room in town.” He was clearly irked by me and then looked at her with annoyance. “You’ll be staying here, I don’t want you out – causing problems or bringing me further embarrassment.”

  “Dad…”

  “I don’t want to hear it.” The fuck
er left the room.

  Colonel Mustard was almost murdered… in the dining room…with my fist!

  She began cleaning up and I started to help.

  “You don’t have too.”

  “I do, or Momma would find out and kick my ass.” I took the platter from her hands and bent trying to capture her eyes…nothing.

  Silence sucked and it was silent the entire time we cleaned up and washed dishes.

  It was hard as hell to look at this girl who I had watched walk into the shop a couple weeks ago appearing to own herself. Her eyes twinkled, her smile alluring and vibrant. Now her eyes were abashed and her smile completely annihilated by that mother fucker.

  Slut Like You

  Bekah

  By the time we had finished cleaning up Dad had made me go from shamed and humiliated, to vengeful and vindictive. My saving grace came in a six-foot tall stunning man. I saw the way he looked at my father, he was seething but held it together. When Dad looked away, Zandor Steel tried to make me smile. It made me want to flip the hell out on my father. I hated how he treated me, but I was used to it. Zandor wasn’t deserving of it. Right now Dad was asleep in his chair and I knew he would be until morning. He never slept in his room.

  “We should probably exchange numbers.” He smiled as we walked toward the door.

  “Zandor look, I’m really sorry about all this. It was very nice of you to go out of your way to…”

  “Not a problem, don’t mention it.”

  I will not cry, I’m not a baby, I’m a grown adult. I…

  “How long’s he out for?” he nodded toward my father.

  “He’ll sleep all night. Lucky for him because I am going to go off…or smother him with a pillow.”

  I smiled and I felt a tear fall. I went to wipe it and he beat me to it.

  “Grab your coat, come have a drink with me. I’ll send you back in a cab before he even knows you’re gone.”

  “I shouldn’t.”

  He had my coat in his hands holding it up. “But you will, let’s go.”

  I don’t know what came over me, maybe the fight or flight instinct kicked in and a flight sounded like my best option. I grabbed my jacket and walked through the door Zandor was holding open for me.

  Neither of us said a thing while we drove off base and down the road. The radio was playing and we were probably both still processing what had just happened. The song Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men was filling my head, my thoughts, and my memories.

  He pulled into a bar I once frequented. I really hoped I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew or more importantly one of the many man boys I had sex with. I was lost in thought when the SUV door opened.

  “Come on, I think we both need a drink.” He held the door open and waited for me.

  We walked in and looked around anxiously. I spotted someone who looked familiar but I couldn’t be sure. Back then I was drunk every time I had been with someone.

  “Bekah.” He grabbed my hand.

  I looked up at him. “What?”

  He smiled. “I asked where you wanted to sit.”

  “Oh, sorry. Really doesn’t matter. The bar’s fine.”

  He smiled. “You’re out of the house. You’re with your friend. Loosen up.”

  The blonde bartender in her late thirties with way too much red lipstick was waiting for him, like really waiting for him to put out whatever fire she had going on in her panties. She looked like she wanted to pounce as she eye fucked him when he removed his hoody.

  His shirt raised slightly, exposing his v, and she bit her lip. Couldn’t blame her, it was a sight to behold. He looked at me and shoved his sleeves up and looked back at the bar.

  He smiled at her. “How are you doing tonight?”

  “Much better now darling, what can I give to you—I mean get for you?”

  Seriously? If I’m a slut what does this make her?

  He looked at me and winked. “Kitten what would you like to drink?”

  He was in full-on player mode. I’d seen it at the shop. The way he looked at women and smiled, that smile, that made them melt.

  “A beer, in a can.” Yeah, I was going all country girl tonight.

  He laughed, “The lady would like a beer, in the can.”

  “Which kind?”

  “Which kind of what?” He smirked.

  He was enjoying this, and if I am to be honest, I was too. Watching him play women like he did was comical, and made me forget for a moment about my Dad’s behavior. They were all just like I was before moving to New Jersey. The right guy gave them a little bit of attention and you might as well consider the deed done.

  “Beer darlin’.” The bar tender leaned closer to him.

  He ordered two Trappists, and she snorted and pointed to the florescent sign behind the bar. “We don’t carry that flavor.”

  “Which flavor do you suggest then?”

  “Um, something time tested.”

  I wanted to laugh but instead interrupted. “I’ll take a Corona, with a lime.”

  She didn’t look away from him. “And you?”

  “Johnny Walker, blue label.”

  “We don’t carry that.” Now she was all breathy.

  “How about a vodka martini, the dirtier the better.” He gave her a sexy smile and a wink.

  “I can certainly do that.”

  “I knew you could.” He sat back and then looked over at me. I rolled my eyes. “What?”

  “You.” I couldn’t help myself, I giggled.

  He lit up, sandy-brown eyes sparkling, pearly whites flashing and for the very first time I noticed this cute little dimple high on his left cheek.

  “Me?” he gave me a shocked, I don’t know what you’re taking about look that made me laugh out loud.

  She set the drinks down and he didn’t even look back. He threw a twenty on the bar and stood. “Let’s go over to a table.”

  I looked back apologetically toward the bartender. I was almost feeling sorry for her, but she wasn’t looking at me, she was checking out that ass. I slammed the empty, bottle, not can, in front of her.

  “Two more please, and two shots of tequila.”

  I looked back while I waited for the cougar behind the bar to peel her eyes off Zandor. He was standing next to the table looking all yummy, okay maybe I’ve had too much to drink? One beer in three minutes wasn’t too much. No he was hot, really, really hot.

  He looked slightly confused and pointed to the table. I answered his questioning look with a nod and paid the bartender. While waiting for my change, music started and I looked around. It wasn’t country and I had to smile when I saw the entire bar look toward the Juke Box at Zandor whose head was starting to keep beat to Thrift Shop by Macklemore. I did both shots and had her line up two more. She looked at me and shook her head back and forth.

  Yeah, bitch, eyes off the prize. Curse you tequila or curse me for using it as an excuse.

  I walked up and set the drinks on the table and he turned and looked at me with one eyebrow raised. His sandy eyes were turning cinnamon as he walked slowly to the beat, boy had rhythm and sex appeal, a lethal combination.

  He held his hand out to me and I shook my head no and took another shot. He smirked and nodded his head yes and grabbed the other shot and tossed it back. He took my hand and danced back onto the small dance floor and the song stopped.

  I started to turn away when the next song started playing, The Fox by Ylvis and I couldn’t help but laugh. He smiled knowing he was the cause of my change in mood. He tried but I absolutely refused to dance to that song.

  “Come on, you’ll have fun.” He raised his hands in the air and then started doing that stupid dance that was all over the Internet.

  Okay, so as stupid as it was he looked good doing it, damn good.

  He was joined very quickly by the females in the bar and he watched me the entire time they were trying to gain his attention. He teased a few with a smile, wink, or a bit of interaction on the floor but I was enjoyi
ng the show and he was enjoying himself giving it to me.

  When the song ended he said, “You gotta dance with me after that shit, Bekah.” He grabbed his glass and took a long drink. The look on his face changed. “You order a double, Kitten, trying to get me drunk?”

  “No, I think the cougar behind the bar is pretty hopeful though.”

  He threw his head back and gauffed.

  “You’re going to dance with me.”

  “There’s plenty of girls out there to dance with, I want to drink.”

  “That’ll work.” He sat next to me and took another drink. “But you’re still gonna dance with me.”

  “I think you should dance with her.” I pointed to one of the girls on the dance floor.

  “You want me to dance with her?”

  He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest and looked her up and down and then back at me. “Not my type.”

  “No?”

  He shook his head no.

  “I think you’re afraid to ask Barbie to dance. I think you feel safer with older women.”

  I knew damn well Barbie would have jumped at the chance, she was one of the first on the dance floor trying to gain his attention.

  “Well, Bekah, tell me what I could do to catch her attention.” His lips turned up slightly in the corner.

  “Well you could use one of your lines.”

  “Oh, my lines?” he chuckled.

  “Sure give me your best line.”

  “Bekah, you wanna fuck?”

  He picked up his glass and took a drink, his eyes never leaving mine.

  I had to come up with something witty soon because as soon as he said those words I felt my face begin to burn and my undies moisten.

  “Well that’s a little blunt, and what if her name isn’t Bekah?” I smiled, “She might not like that.”

  “No?”

  “No, try another.” I took a drink bracing myself for yet another one of his pussy clench worthy puns.

  He looked down at me crossing my legs and closed his eyes and smirked. “I’ll tell you all of my lines if you dance with me.”

  He opened his eyes and leaned forward taking my hand. His eyes were so intense, they captivated me. I was sure I would do whatever he told me too at this very moment. He stood up and grabbed my hand and dragged me to the dance floor. Roar by Katy Perry started playing. One of his hands gripped my hip and his other hand he held up flat and I placed mine against it.