by Gabi Moore
“Zack,” I said and held out my hand.
“I know,” she said and hesitated to put out her own hand.
When I touched her fingers, I found them just as clammy as mine. She tucked them quickly back under the table again. I sat, hating how warm it felt all of a sudden.
“Do you want to get some coffee?” she asked.
I smiled, and for the next few moments we called the waitress, ordered drinks, and pretended like we hadn’t already seen one another naked.
“So, what’s the outside world like? Still like you remember it?” she finally asked, a nervous smile playing on her lips.
I had to remind myself that this was the same woman who had told me about her childhood, her dreams, her pets, her work challenges, her little health niggles, and the cupcakes she wanted to make on the weekend. A real, live woman. I only knew one, small, two-dimensional part of her. But fuck, it did feel like I knew that small part really well.
“It’s OK. Two years is actually not that long…” I lied. It was long. An eternity, without a woman.
Our coffees came and she wrapped nervous fingers round her cup. All at once, she launched into a little speech. The people at the table next to ours glanced over nervously, eyeing my tattoos.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, I’ve been so nervous and everything, but I have to be honest, before we carry on, I’ve been dying – I really mean just dying – to ask you a question,” she said, looking flustered.
In a way, I was glad she wanted to ask. I stuck my finger into the knot of the tie and wriggled it a little looser, and then I held up a hand and cut her short.
“Hey, I know this has all gone a little fast. You know, I didn’t expect to get out this soon either. But there’s no rush …for anything. And I think I know what question you want to ask me.”
I tried to hide my shaking hands by gripping the coffee mug and taking a sip.
“You do?”
I wiped the foam off my lips.
“Yup. You want to know if I’d like to go for a walk with you after we’re done with this lame coffee act, and enjoy the sunshine out there,” I said, and took another sip, not breaking eye contact for a second.
She giggled and looked at me sideways.
“Oh? Is that what I wanted to know?”
“Of course. You’re feeling a little shy though, because I’m just so goddam handsome, so you’re not sure how to ask me outright. But don’t worry, I got you,” I said, and playfully bumped the side of her arm with my fist.
She blushed and broke out into silly giggles.
Thank God.
Thank God she liked that.
Don’t ask me where it all came from, but maybe I still knew how to treat a woman, if I could just dust the rust off those parts of myself.
“Well, smartass, you got me, that’s exactly what I wanted to ask you.” And suddenly, all at once, like I had tripped and fallen face first into something gooey and delicious, her warm eyes caught mine and held my gaze. Held them and trapped them like honey traps a fly, like an immense star traps a little comet and holds it close in orbit.
And so we looked at each other.
And looked.
“I bet I can also imagine what question you have for me,” she purred, lowering her voice a little.
I leaned in closer.
Oh, I had questions all right. I wanted to know why she had ever joined that site in the first place. And what she did late at night, on her own, after work. And what she wanted. And yes, I wondered what her body wanted, too. I had guessed endlessly at how she might like to be touched, and what turned her on, and wondered whether she liked it rough, or whether she painted her toenails, or the precise sounds she made when she came. I wondered what I could ever do to give her an orgasm.
“Oh? Well go ahead then, I am feeling a bit shy to say,” I said, and played a little at being coy.
She smiled broadly at this and leaned in a little closer. I hated the table between us. I would have smashed it to a million pieces with my own bare hands if it meant I could get an inch closer to her.
“Well, you’re wondering… you’re wondering why I agreed to come out here, and meet you,” she said, suddenly a little serious. “You’re wondering if I’m crazy.”
I looked at her blankly. I had been wondering exactly that. The look in her eyes intensified a little and she went on.
“I think… that you’re as nervous as I am. And Zack, I do want to ask that other question, you know the one I mean.”
She hadn’t come across as this candid in any of our long text chats or emails. I was taken aback by her bluntness. Being rusty with women is one thing, but I was all of a sudden reminded that I was never any pro to start off with. This woman, with her long, unstyled hair and powder blue eyes, this woman who was half my size and twice as sweet, well, it definitely seemed like she could hold her own.
“Then ask me,” I said.
My hands were close to hers. So close I could touch them by accident. It felt delicious to pretend I hadn’t noticed. I wondered if she had. I wondered if I could nudge them even closer.
She sighed, tossed her hair to one side and looked off to the distance and then back at me.
“Zack, are you a bad man?”
It was as though there was an electrical force field crackling between her fingertips and mine.
“That’s not quite how I imagined you’d ask that question.”
She waited patiently for me to answer.
“Are you asking what I did? Why I went to jail in the first place?” I was beginning to regret not getting all this ugly stuff out of the way sooner.
“No, no, no, I don’t care about that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’d really prefer not to know.”
“But…”
“But I want you to just tell me, right now, if you’re a bad man.”
I took a deep breath.
“That’s… that’s a very complicated question. It’s not so simple to decide if someone is all good or all bad, you know?”
“Is that your answer?” she said quickly.
I wished I could tear this godforsaken tie off and never lay eyes on it again.
“No, not really. I mean…”
“It is a simple question. Nevermind anything you’ve done in the past, or what happened, or why you were in jail. Of course I’ve wondered about it. But I realized, right now when you sat down, that I don’t care. I just care if you’re a good man, right now.”
I was shocked by her sudden intensity. Outside, she was all soft circles and arcs. But her words were sharp and came quickly and with such force that I found my hands sweating again. Putting on a shirt and tie was one thing, but I hadn’t expected the third degree like this.
“So, are you?” she asked, then leaned back in her chair a little, as though my answer might take up extra space between us.
Was I a bad man? Fuck, I didn’t know. Aren’t all men bad?
“You have a way of asking really difficult questions, you know that?” I said at last, trying to lighten the mood. She smiled naughtily at me, and sweet lord if it didn’t melt me to my core.
“So that’s your final answer,” she said and playfully traced circles round the rim of her coffee cup.
I laughed out loud.
“You don’t let up, huh? Ok, you want an answer? You really want me to answer truthfully?”
“Yes, truthfully.”
“You sure? You might not like the answer…”
She was giggling and blushing again.
“Go on, tell me already.”
“I’m not a bad man…” I started, and gave her a dark, serious look. “But I am a man.”
The smile fell a little from her lips as she looked up at me, trying to decipher my expression. It would have taken no effort to lean forward and kiss her just then, and taste those silky little lips of hers. Had this woman done nothing but give me hard-ons in inappropriate places for the last six months?
She nodded sagely and smiled, then traced her finger around the cup again. The static between us was crackling once more.
“Good answer,” she said, “and now I can see that my coffee is almost finished…”
Chapter 5 - Madeleine
Jokes on him: I probably was crazy. On a whim I had suggested we meet, and on a whim I had put on the only dress I owned that wasn’t matted with cat and dog fur, and on a whim I had flirted hard with him. I had no idea what I was doing.
But if felt good.
And as the words left my mouth I realized I believed them. I actually didn’t care what he had done in the past. I was certainly no good girl myself. What I cared about was who he was now.
I had dated all the ‘good men’ anyway, and how had that worked out for me? It wasn’t that complicated. My life was passing me by, and if I wanted to have a fun fling with a hot bad boy from prison, so be it.
It was so much nicer and sunnier outside, and as we walked and found our way to the park, I couldn’t decide whether it was the caffeine that was making me buzz …or the way he kept passing little sideways glances at me.
His jaw was sharp and hard – the kind of jaw that always looks clenched tight – and his cheekbones were the same. It was only his eyes that were soft, and I suppose he thought I didn’t notice when he snuck a peek here and there at me. I tried not to think of all the pictures I had sent him. Of some of the stuff I had written, late at night when I was feeling lonely and reckless.
As we walked through the manicured gardens, we had our same old conversations as always, only this time, he was right there. Not locked away in a cold, steel box somewhere. Not just safe little pixels on a screen. But a real, flesh and blood man. And he was …bigger than I had expected.
Before, my images of him had only taken up little squares of space on my laptop screen, and his words had fit neatly onto a phone, or into short emails. When I closed my eyes and thought of him late at night, the thought was always small and manageable, too. But now, here, in the flesh… he was overwhelming.
I chatted and told him about the animals, about the clinic. And all while the sun shone, dark, delicious thoughts crouched on the edge of my mind. He was bigger than me. Much bigger. We could easily take a turn on this innocent path and find ourselves out of earshot for just long enough for him to …whatever.
My thoughts lazily flitted up to the verge of some possibilities but then came dashing back again. We joked about nothing, laughed at this and that. But I never lost track of the way his neck muscles were moving under his shirt. Right there, on the brink of my consciousness, there was another conversation going on. One between our bodies. My mind toyed endlessly with the idea of him as my ‘bad man’ …but I had understood his answer earlier on that day. He certainly was, without doubt, a man.
When he yanked off his tie and threw it carelessly over his shoulders, I thought I’d die of a heart attack.
It had been so long since I had been with anyone. Even before Alex and I had broken up, we had spent long, bitter nights in separate rooms, my body wincing at even the idea of brushing past him in the corridor on the way to the bathroom. But now the prospect of the tanned triangle of skin that appeared at Zack’s throat was enough to send my head spinning. God, I hoped he hadn’t caught my eyes darting over to ogle him.
We reached an obvious split in the road and looked at it, and then at one another. The air chilled a little as the sun passed behind a cloud, and a shadow flushed over the entire park.
“Are you going to murder me and put me in a ditch or something?” I blurted. Oh fuck. Where did that come from? What the hell happened to playing it cool and not caring about his past? I tried to laugh it off as a joke but he shot worried eyes at me.
“That’s really creepy, Maddy, why would you say something like that?” he said, a little hurt.
Of course he wasn’t going to murder me. Jesus. I wasn’t even sure if he was, you know, into me at all, so why was I flattering myself that a hunk like him would ever bother? I hadn’t been myself lately.
Idiot. I kicked up some gravel on the path. “I just …I’m sorry, I don’t know where my manners went, please try and forget I said that,” I stammered.
The path to the left was away from the city, leading into a quiet, shaded grove. The other path wound out into the sun and looked as if it meandered out of the park and back onto the sunny main road.
“Which way should we go now?” I asked, hoping my face would stop burning soon and that he’d have mercy and stop peeling off items of his clothing right here in broad daylight.
“Why don’t you decide?” he said and looked at me.
“Again, I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what? Forget it. Which way are we going, huh?”
I looked the two options over. High, and low. The right way, the wrong way. I envisioned Annie’s concerned face and saw her wagging her finger at me.
Never go to a second location she had said. Send me a message the instant you’re done, and let me know if it goes past an hour.
Kissing this gorgeous beast would be heaven. But I wasn’t sure yet if it was worth the risk of landing dead in a ditch, no matter what he said. Sure, I was on a mission to be less of a ‘fraidy cat these days, but the darker path could wait…
“Let’s head this way,” I said, “I need to make my way back to town.”
He nodded happily and we set off to the right in silence.
“Just so you now,” he said, “I usually save my murdering and ditch activities for the third date anyway.”
I spun to look at him, but he winked and grinned mischievously back at me. I burst out laughing.
“I cannot believe you just said that!” I squealed and slapped his arm.
“What can I say? I’m old-fashioned that way. I just like to get to know my murder victims a little better, that’s all.”
The naughty sideways smile he flashed me sent electric volts down my spine and straight between my legs.
“You would murder me? After we’ve had such a nice coffee date together?” I said and pretended to pout. He smiled big and broad as the sunshine.
“Murder you? Well, easy there, we’ve only just met, I mean I haven’t even decided if I like you yet.”
The next thing I knew he had twirled me around and clasped me by the shoulders, and before I could say anything he planted firm, soft lips against mine. I froze and then went limp under his kiss. Somehow, all his raw magnetism seemed to condense to a single point somewhere on the tip of his sweet tongue, and as he leaned down and pulled me up into him, I whimpered and kissed back eagerly. His lips were slick and soft and warm.
He pulled back and I looked up at him, astonished.
“There, I just wanted to get that out of the way” he said, straightening tall. “Should we get going?”
He extended a hand and I took it, and then he guided me out of the park and back into town, where we hugged and parted ways without speaking much. Though the entire date had taken just less than an hour from start to finish, I spent all of that night tossing fevered in my bed, half resisting the dark, strange dreams quietly seeping into my mind, and half welcoming them in.
Chapter 6 - Zack
I can remember overhearing two of the prison guards talking one day, soon after I went in. They had been doing that kind of friendly griping that only people on lonely night shifts know how to do, and one had chuckled and said, “Man, we’re right here in prison with these fuckers. We’re all in one prison or another,” and I had smiled sourly and thought nothing more of it.
Until now.
The standard issue trousers and heavy-duty work shirt were at least comfortable; I’d give them that. They were dusty dark blue and made to look like an officer’s uniform, only not so flimsy or restrictive, and they felt warm against the chill night air. The 9mm Glock they had given me was in good nick but had probably never fired a shot, and it hung down heavy on my hips together with a pair of handcuffs and a flashlight, bo
th bobbing a little as I walked all the way to that end of the corridor, and all the way back again.
It didn’t look much like it to me, but it’s what my counsellor had called ‘progress’. It was the graveyard shift at a draughty domestic terminal at the airport, but it was also, like I remembered that old prison guard saying, a prison.
Hands behind my back, I paced up and down restlessly like a jaguar at the zoo, and thought of her lips.
Against the cold tiles of that terminal hall, and the darkness outside and the relentless clink clink clink of my handcuffs hanging behind me, there was one damp, hidden spot inside my mind, and that spot was the memory of her warm lips.
I had kissed her, and for the last few days I had been feeding off that same kiss, pulling it out every few minutes, examining it, seeing that is was still hot and beating and alive, then putting it away again, shocked that I owned such a memory at all.
“Jesus, what part of no don’t you understand?”
I turned to find the source of a distressed female voice, and immediately saw an angry looking woman marching across the mostly empty terminal, an equally angry looking man shadowing her.
She had been crying.
In another life, I would have called her a ‘civilian’.
The guy caught up to her, yanked her by the arm and spun her to him, then hissed a warning under his breath at her while she scowled and tried to wriggle herself free.
I walked over sharply, and the guy released his grip at the sight of me.
“Everything all right here, ma’am?” I said.
She flashed angry eyes at the guy, then at me, then at the guy again.
“Everything’s fine,” she said, mortified. “There’s no problem officer, I’m sorry,”
That’s women for you. The really damaged ones are even humiliated by their own debasement. This dickhead didn’t seem to have much shame himself, and why would he, when she was doing double?
“Ma’am, if this gentleman is harassing you…”
The both of them exchanged a fiery, loaded glance at one another and then looked back at me.