by Bonnie Gill
Another dollar.
Another box.
No genie.
The floor looked like a game of pickup sticks gone wonky.
Abby’s teeth clenched so hard her jaw ticked. She paid dearly with money she couldn’t spare for every single box of tampons in that stupid machine.
No! It can’t be.
Somehow, she had to find him. Rage and frustration consumed her soul. She kicked the hateful machine. She kicked it again. The impact bruised her foot but she continued to kick and kick until the Plexiglas busted open, shattering in splinters all around her. She pulled out the boxes of condoms and packets of pain reliever, and tearing each one open until she’d flung all the packages contents in the air.
No genie.
She thrust her back against the wall, the defeat of her failed expedition tempting tears in her eyes and slowly slid down to the floor, tampons, condoms, and pain relievers all piled up around her.
This is not happening!
The door opened to the bathroom and a mime walked in. Abby froze. She was the mime. The slut-mime who Burt had screwed.
The mime’s mouth formed an O, and she placed her hand over it. She had the audacity to point a glove covered finger at Abby, and silent-laughed while holding her belly.
Abby saw red.
If she ever wondered what that saying meant, the meaning was now clear. The outline of everything turned a deep, bright shade of fuchsia. Her hands trembled. Her brain drummed thunder and lightning into her ears. Abby picked up a handful of the genie-less tampons and threw them at the mime.
Tampons bounced off of the mime’s chest. Mime-hussy’s blood red lips drooped down, her eyes squinted, connecting the painted stripe on her lid to her cheek. She amplified putting her hands on her hips.
“Leave before I lose it—clown-face.” Tampons fell from her lap as she stood, scattering like confetti across the tile floor, and her fists formed into small wrecking balls. Her mouth went dry as if her throat was stuffed with super maxi-pads.
The mime-hussy ran at Abby and tackled her. Air from her lungs pushed through her mouth with an “Umph.” Her legs sprawled underneath her, her hip bounced off the tile and she heaved in breath-after-breath to fill her deflated lungs.
The mime pinned Abby’s shoulder to the grimy bathroom floor and she threw a punch. Pain flared across her cheekbone.
Abby wriggled her arm free and elbowed Mime-hussy in the painted teardrop under her eye. It crunched on contact, and damn it felt good. Mime-hussy’s head snapped back with the blow. Abby scrambled to her knees and slammed her fist into the mime’s stomach. One word escaped from the Mime’s mouth. “Bitch.”
“Ah ha. You talked.” Abby pointed at her.
The mime doubled over, hands on her knees. Her lip curled when she looked at Abby.
Scrambling to her feet, Abby’s foot slipped on the mountain of tampons. She grabbed the damaged vending machine and pulled herself up.
A white forehead crashed into hers with a clunk. Abby flew backward and the back of her head hit the cement wall. Like two freight trains colliding, one in the front of her head, the other in the back, the impact brought swirling white lights through her vision. She collapsed on the floor.
Mime-hussy’s foot swung for her ribs. She rolled away on the soft cushion of feminine products cluttering the floor.
“What’s . . . your . . . problem?” Abby pulled in a deep breath in between each word, and she struggled to her feet.
The mime didn’t answer. She motioned the crazy sign by making circles with her pointer finger by her temple.
Yeah, right. Who’s the crazy one?
The bathroom door exploded open. Two well-built men in rent-a-cop uniforms stormed inside. The mime pointed at Abby and took her fist and acted like she was punching herself. Then she took her hands and wrapped them around her neck and stuck out her tongue, performing the universal sign of choking.
Abby shook her head no and thrust her open palm at her white-faced nightmare. “She started it. She attacked me.”
The mime pointed at the smashed vending machine and then pointed at Abby.
“Okay. Yeah. I’ll admit the tampon machine gave me some trouble.”
The Rent-a-Cops went into motion.
Abby’s face smacked up against the bathroom wall, her hands pulled behind her back. The Expo-police didn’t kid around. Cold steel handcuffs snapped closed around her wrists like the metal jaws of a starving shark.
She jerked to the side and wiggled her cuffed hands. She turned her head to peek at the exit. She could try to make the door.
Electronic ziz noises from their tazers sounded out behind her. “Lady if you give us any trouble we’ll zap you.”
She wriggled free and bolted with the door in sight.
“You have the right to be silent.”
Ziz. Crackle.
A blaze struck her back and stung from her head to her feet. The rent-a-cop pulled back the tazer and she collapsed.
Chapter 8
River opened the door to Pepper’s Perky Pets and walked inside. Hercules barked a deep woof and followed him into the store.
“Howdy, Sheriff. Hi-ya, Hercules.” Pepper reached in a treat jar on the counter and pulled out a homemade dog cookie. “Here you go, big boy.” Hercules crunched the snack, spewing slobbered cookie crumbs onto the floor.
“Hey, Pepper. Hercules needs some supplies.” He searched the store for Abby, his pulse tapping out a jazz beat with anticipation of seeing her.
“Abby’s not here. She had to run some errands.”
He let out a disappointed sigh.
Pepper’s phone rang a peppy ringtone. She fished her cell out of her pocket. “Excuse me.” She walked over an aisle to answer the call in private.
“Hercules, what kind of toys should we get you?” River led him over by the toys to eavesdrop on Pepper’s conversation.
“You’ve got to be kidding? Now?” Pepper paused for a bit. “Wait, where are you? I have an idea. Someone will come to get you. Hang in there.” She placed her phone back in her pocket and walked over. “Um. Abby has a slight problem. She’s been arrested.”
His heart beat hard and fast. “Arrested? For what?” What has she done?
“Well, she got in a fight. It wasn’t her fault. She doesn’t have an aggressive gene in her whole body.” Pepper swiped across her forehead. “I can’t leave. Would you be willing to pick her up?”
“Where is she?”
Amusement hinted behind her blue eyes. “She was arrested at the Expo center in the next town over, so where ever they would take them to jail.”
River handed her the list of dog supplies. “These are the things I need for Hercules. Would you gather them while I’m gone? I’ll pick them up when I drop off Abby. Come on, boy.” He held the door while the dog padded through. They got in the car and drove off to the police station.
The police station, a brick ranch that took up a quarter of the block, was four times the size of Haber Cove’s station. They probably had over a hundred policemen employed, his station had two.
A policewoman with her black hair pulled back in a bun, sat behind the bulletproof glass wall in the entry. She stopped writing in a beige folder, closed it, and looked up at him.
“Sheriff Stone from Haber Cove.” He flashed his badge. “I’m here to pick up Abby.” Damn, he didn’t even know her last name.
The woman’s mouth tweaked a smile and then turned down in a frown. “The one picked up for destruction of private property and battery?”
“Uh, yes, that would be the one.”
“You know they had to use the tazer on her?”
“No. Is she okay? What happened?” He cleared his throat and pulled on his collar. What the hell did Abby do?
“Sh
e’s fine. Abby Fitzgerald damaged a feminine product dispenser and attacked a mime.” She looked down at the file and laughed under her breath before she looked up. “Looks like the mime won and decided not to press charges.”
River raised his brows. “A mime?”
She clicked the end of her pen on the desk in a click click . . . click click rhythm. “Either that woman has a knack for bad luck or she’s psychotic.” She stopped clicking and pointed with the pen to three different lines on a document. “You need to sign here, here, and here.
He signed his name and wrote down his Haber Cove badge number.
She looked at Hercules and cocked her head to the right. “Nice dog. Right this way, Sheriff.” A buzzer sounded before the heavy steel door snapped open.
They walked down the hall past several holding cells until they reached Abby’s. A chill slid inside River’s chest. She sat on the bench with her head resting on her knees. She’d wrapped her arms around her legs and long curly hair covered her face. She looked so small sitting in the cell all alone. When she looked up, he saw a bruise on her cheek, a black eye, and her hair was frizzed. What had she gotten herself into?
“You’re freaking kidding me,” she said in a quiet voice. She ran her hands over her hair trying to smooth it down.
“I would think you’d be glad to see me. I’m the one who’s going to get you out of here.” He looked over to the policewoman and waited for her to unlock the door.
“Sheriff, do you want me to cuff her?”
“No, I think I can handle her.”
River led Abby out of the station and opened the passenger sidecar door. Gracefully, she slid into her seat and winced when her back touched. He ran around to the driver’s side and hopped in. Hercules took his time climbing into the back seat.
“Okay. What happened?” He needed to get to the bottom of this.
“She jumped me. That mime is a crazy bitch. And, those stupid expo police on steroids tazered me.” Abby looked out the window.
“That’s all you have to say in defense for yourself?”
She looked back at him. She popped her eyes wide and tilted her head. “That’s it. Can you take me to my car now?”
The stubborn woman wasn’t going to reveal any more details unless he threw her off her game. He just had to figure out how.
She applied her lip balm across her lips, mashed them together, and then licked them.
The idea hit. He leaned in. First he brushed his lips against hers before planting a kiss square on her supple mouth.
She pushed his chest, breaking the contact and scooted across her seat until she was slapped up against the door. “What the heck did you do that for?”
Not the reaction he hoped for but it’d work. “Maybe I wanted to find out what flavor you’re wearing?” He amplified licking his lips. “Mmm, cherry. My favorite.” Not a bad kiss either. Too bad it couldn’t have lasted longer.
“Do you always lip assault the criminals you pick up?”
“Only the ones wearing cherry lip balm. Now tell me about the bathroom vending machine?” He felt his jaw tighten. He needed to relax if he wanted her to confide in him. Trust him.
She let out a long defeated sigh. “I lost something in there and was trying to find it.”
“What could you possibly lose in a vending machine?”
She looked down at her hands and refused to answer.
He softened his tone. “Come on, work with me. I can help you.”
“Look, I know it all sounds crazy but I had my reasons.” She crossed her arms in front of her and leaned back in her seat. Her body language indicated she was closing the vending machine subject.
“Why would a mime jump you?”
“We have history.”
“What kind of history?” River mimicked her arm cross. He could play stubborn, too.
Her facial expression changed from anger to almost pathetic. “I found her in bed with my ex-boyfriend. Okay. Happy?”
No. He wasn’t happy at all. For some reason he had the urge to beat the living crap out of her ex. He reached over and lifted the soft curl from her face and tucked it behind her small sexy ear. “How do you know it was her? I mean, she was dressed as a mime in the Expo center right?”
Abby bit her bottom lip and her eyebrows rose when she glared back at him.
“You’re kidding. She had the make-up on when you caught them together?” He shook his head and bit the inside of his mouth to keep from laughing, but it failed. “What kind of sick . . .”
“Go ahead and laugh. Yes, my ex-boyfriend had a fetish for mimes and clowns.” She rubbed her biceps. “It’s freaking hilarious. Ha. Ha. Ha.” She fired her words out as if she were mad, but her eyes told of hurt and disappointment.
Maybe he shouldn’t have kissed her? Clearly she was still hurting from the break-up. He shifted the car into drive and headed out of the parking lot. River wasn’t buying it for a minute, and guilt prodded at him for making matters worse.
“Is that what attracted you to him? That fetish thing?” He had to ask.
“God, no. I had no idea. Just drop me off at my car please.” She wiggled in her seat and scratched her stomach. A packaged condom fell out from under her shirt. When she looked down, her cheeks flushed a bright pink.
“Aftermath from the alleged vending machine incident?” River couldn’t hold back his tease.
Abby pointed out the windshield “Watch the road. You almost hit that thing.” She threw the condom out the window.
Clever girl tried to distract him. “I am watching. I didn’t even come close. You know, I could arrest you for littering.”
She shrugged as if she didn’t care and switched subjects. “So this is your dog?”
“His name is Hercules.”
She turned her attention to the mammoth dog sitting in the back seat with drool hanging by a thread of spit from his jowls.
River wondered what on earth Abby could have lost in a vending machine. The police said there was no money missing, and in fact she’d put over fifty dollars into it. The vending company was willing to drop the charges as long as she agreed to pay for damages. He studied her sitting in his front seat. She looked to be holding up pretty well.
His stomach growled. “Listen, I know you’ve had a hard day. How about I buy us something to eat?”
“I’m not hungry.” She twirled one of her brown curls while she looked out the slobber-smeared window.
“Well I am, and you shouldn’t deny me food after I drove all the way out here to get you out of jail.”
“Be my guest.”
He pulled into a fast-food restaurant that served patrons in their car. He looked over at Abby. “Can I get you a shake or something to drink?”
“An iced tea, please.”
He pressed the button on the intercom and ordered two cheeseburgers, fries, and two teas.
A young girl with her hair in a ponytail, rollerbladed up to the car and hooked a tray on his window. “Cool dog,” she said and chomped her gum. “Is that a Mastiff?”
“Yes it is. His name is Hercules.” He handed the drink to Abby.
“Thank you.” Abby took the tea from River. Her slender fingers played with the straw, pulling it in and out of the plastic top, in and out, over and over again.
River couldn’t look away from the seductive action. Hell, he was rock hard. More than anything, he wanted to strip Abby and jump her in the back seat. He shouldn’t have kissed her.
“Are you okay?” Abby’s cheeks turned a pale pink while she rubbed lip balm on her lips.
“Oh, yeah. I’m starved.” Food was the very last thing on his mind.
Oh sweet heavens and angels and birds above, he had to think of something not sexy to get rid of the raging one eyed w
onder snake threatening to escape from his pants. Think, think. He thought of the hand drawn picture of the Gnome.
Woody stood down—for now.
Chapter 9
Abby vaulted out the door and walked around to River’s open window. “Thanks for bailing me out of jail. I guess I’ll see you later.” Much later—if she didn’t die from embarrassment right this second. She spun away from her handsome knight in police armor and scurried to her car. The whole afternoon reminded her of the twisted hideous nightmare threatening to forever haunt her existence. Being tazed sucked. Jail sucked. Being picked up from jail by River, sucked. Having a condom fall out of her shirt, really sucked. But what sucked the most, was when she told River about Burt and the mime-whore, and he laughed. She’d known humiliation before, but this?
She brought her fingers to her lips. The kiss. Wow. She didn’t see that one coming. His lips were soft but strong at the same time. Moist but not soggy. He tasted of peppermint with no hint of bad breath. The kiss was one of the best ones she’d ever had and it didn’t even include tongue. What was she thinking? He only kissed her to get her to talk. And it worked. Was she that pathetic? As if she wanted a boyfriend right now anyway.
Abby sat in her car and stared out the windshield. River’s dashing smile and his brawny superhero body kept dancing in her head. She needed to stop thinking about him. Still, he’d displayed remarkable patience picking her up from jail. Hell, if the situation was reversed she would have lost her cool.
Revealing how that evil genie cursed her was out of the question. He would have thought she was crazy.
She thought about his heated glance that encouraged her to play with her straw. The way the muscle in his cheek twitched as he held his restraint. So, she teased him a little. There was nothing wrong with that. Not after the way he had been ogling her breasts. She could practically feel his mind feeling her up. And it felt good. She’d bet his hands would bring her oodles of pleasure. But, she didn’t want it or need it right now. Having her heart broken by Burt-mime-lover squashed any interest she had in a relationship. Only right now her heart didn’t feel broken. More like smoldering. If she wasn’t careful, those embers would flare into a blaze.