The Call

by B. A. Cubbage

  “You know where I stand on tattoos. It’s beautiful Reagan. For ink in your skin.”

  “Ah, don’t listen to her. You like my tattoos, Kathy.”

  “I tolerate yours. Don’t get snippy.” She gives Uncle Peter a look and he just smiles at her. “You kids doing anything special tonight?”

  “We’re just going out to dinner with Mickey and Kate. What has you two out our way?”

  Kathy looks at me with suspicion. “Don’t think I didn’t catch that, young man. We were in town today for supplies and thought that we’d stop by for a short visit.”

  “I’m gonna go change before I get my head knocked off or catch fire from that glare.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Ah, cut him some slack, Kathy. He lives within five miles of every single one of our other troublemakers. I don’t reckon they get much privacy around here.”

  I nod at my uncle and head upstairs. At least he gets it. Once I’m changed into some comfier clothes, I head down to the kitchen to get Reagan and me a glass of sweet tea, and then walk out to the porch where they’re all sitting and chitchatting.

  Aunt Kathy stands up and gives me a hug, but also smacks me on the back of the head. “Love you, boy. We’ll let you two be.”

  Uncle Peter winks at me. “We’ll see you two after we get back from Colorado.”

  “You two have a safe trip. Let us know when you make it home. Hey, who’s watching the horses?”

  Kathy turns around to me. “Your uncle decided to let the vet come stay at our house while we’re gone.”

  “Hey now, tell me how it’s a bad idea to have a vet stay at our house with all of the livestock that we have?”

  She smacks the back of his head too and says, “It’s bad because you are letting the hot little blonde come stay at our house. Genius wanted to put up nanny cams.”

  Reagan’s mouth falls open in amused shock. I laugh. It’s typical Uncle Peter. He shrugs his shoulders and holds open the truck door for Kathy.

  Once they’re down the driveway Reagan turns to me. “Are you going to be a dirty old man when you get to be his age too, and try to trade me in for the hot vet?”

  “I could never trade you in. I’m more worried about you leaving me when my tattoos are all wrinkly and I can’t get it up anymore.”

  She stands, laughing, and heads inside. “They make pills for that.”

  “What about the tattoos?”

  She mock ponders. “That might be a deal breaker.”

  She yelps when I smack her ass. “Smartass.”

  “You love it.”

  When she starts to walk up the stairs into our bedroom, I bite her butt. “Mmm.”

  “Mm let’s go get you a better view of that butt you love so much.”

  “Yes, let's.”

  »»•««

  Chris

  Now she’s putting more of that shit on her skin? She fucking knows I hate that she’s blemishing her skin with all of that fucking ink. Girls shouldn’t have tattoos. It looks trashy on them. Fucking ugly.

  I watch from a safe distance as they leave on their bikes—another thing I hate that she disobeys me on. They follow that dipshit Mickey and her ridiculous excuse for a best friend—Reagan needs to drop them. Stupid slut went and got herself pregnant. Ignorant bitch.

  I follow them until they pull into Jacques-Imo’s—a place known for their fried chicken and po’boys. I park two blocks down. This whole thing is just getting old. Soon, soon I will have her all to myself again. She will finally give up this ridiculous game and please me the way she is supposed to.

  Sasha pops her head up from my lap. “Where are we?”

  I push her head back down. “Don’t worry about it. Do what you’re good at, bitch.” She moans with me in her mouth. This is how it should be, but instead of Sasha’s lips around me, it should be Reagan’s. Sasha likes to act like she’s too good for most people, but I’ve found that a little aggression with her goes a long-ass way. “Faster.”

  I put my hand in her hair and pull her up and down at the speed that I need. Staring at Reagan’s bike and imagining it’s her mouth around me gets me to where I need to be. I shove Sasha’s head down and make her deep throat it as I come down her throat. Her gag only serves to please me more.

  Any man who tells you that it’s not the hottest thing ever to see a woman kneeled before them, cock in their mouth, and a little bit of that black shit you girls put on your face running down the sides of your cheeks, is a bold-face liar. Even the sanest of us men love the sight of it.

  She swirls her tongue around and up my dick as it starts to go limp, cleaning up after herself like a good little wench should. She doesn’t say a word either. Reagan could learn a thing or two from this rich, snobby bitch. Though, I would get bored fast if Reagan didn’t keep me on my toes the way she does. She just needs to learn when enough is enough.

  “I think that she may have seen you by that lake a few days ago. You need to be more careful if we’re both going to get what we want out of this in the end.”

  “I was fine, Sasha. When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.”

  “Fuck off, Christopher. I’m not your plaything that you can order about. I’m not her.”

  I turn my gaze to hers and she shrinks in her seat a little bit. “That’s right, you’re not her. Because if you were, I would be completely satisfied. What did I tell you about calling me by my full name?”

  “If you don’t like it then you should have changed it. And fuck you. Not satisfied. You just got off in my mouth. That, in my book, is more than satisfied. I’m ten times better than that—”

  She cuts off abruptly when I cut my eyes to hers again. “Don’t. I will hit you, Sasha. And I won’t feel bad about it one bit. Keep your goddamn opinions to yourself about her. You don’t see me voicing all the ways that I’m better than that marshmallow you love so fucking much.”

  “Take us back to the house. Now. I’ll not sit here and listen to you demean me and my future husband.”

  “Shut the fuck up or get out and walk.”

  She huffs but closes her mouth. She’s smart for a stupid bitch. I sit back and just stare at Reagan’s bike sitting next to the bike of the pompous asshole. I start to think about the plan the three of us have put together. It’s perfect. It will work and no one will get in my way.

  I start to ponder all the things I’m going to do to Reagan when I get her back to the house we will share until the heat dies down and she can call the dogs off. I’m most excited about whipping her back into shape. Tying her down and making her scream. I wiggle in my seat a little bit and adjust the hard-on pressing against my zipper.

  “Would you like a hand with that?”

  Sasha undoes my pants again and pulls up her skirt. I won’t stop her. “Keep your mouth shut.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Reagan

  It’s sometime in the early morning, I’m guessing between four and five, and I’m dry heaving into the toilet. I’ve been in here since about two o’clock. I hate food poisoning. I managed to shut the door behind Dozer and me so that neither he nor I would wake up Abraham.

  In between vomiting, I put some tattoo cream on my sleeve. It’s already starting to itch. it’s still sore as shit, but itches nonetheless. I hear Abraham’s alarm on his phone go off. Who puts Reveille as their alarm sound? If his alarm is going off, that means that it’s six in the morning and I’ve been at this for five hours.

  I feel like hammered shit. And I’ll bet that if I could stand long enough to make it to the mirror, I’d find that I look like it, too.

  “Reagan?” He taps on the door and I heave into the toilet once more. “Angel, are you sick?”

  Heave— “I fucking hope so”—heave— “Because if I’m not”—heave—“Then I’m in hell”—heave.

  “Sweetie.”

  “Don’t you dare come in here!” Too late, he’s in and pouring me a glass of water from the faucet.

  “Here, drink this s
o that you’re not dry heaving. I’ll go get you some crackers and antacids.”

  I down half the glass but it’s worthless, it comes right back up. He leaves the room, and I cough and sputter as more water is rejected from my stomach. I’m never eating shrimp again. Ever.

  “Here, eat a couple of these, take this, and drink some ginger ale.” He’s going to make a great dad one of these days. He’ll be a pro by the time any of our kids are hugging the toilet the way I am now.

  “I’ll call Mickey real quick and tell him that you’re not going to make it in today.” I give him a thumbs-up as I puke up half-chewed crackers. “Maybe I should call in too.”

  I shake my hand at him, indicating I don’t like that idea. Heave. Fuck. I’m going to be so fucking sore tomorrow from all of this dry heaving.

  He comes back in with a wet rag, a couple of huge fluffy blankets, and a pillow. I’m sitting against the tub with my head leaned back on the side. He sees the slight confusion on my face. “I’m making you a bed in the tub. And since it’s so big, I’ll lay with you. Unless you’d rather I grab a bucket and set you up in our bed?”

  I can’t even move my lips to talk right now. I’m just concentrating on not vomiting again. He sets about making a bed for me in the tub with the pillow on the side closest to the toilet. He makes no move to lift me into it though. “I won’t move you until you think that I can without you getting motion sick. I called Stewart and told him I’m staying home to take care of you. Don’t give me that look. I’m not leaving my sick girlfriend in this huge house to fend for herself. You wouldn’t do it to me.” I don’t even care. I just close my eyes and try to get some rest.

  »»•««

  When I open my eyes again, I’m lying in our bed. The cool wash cloth is still on my forehead, there are crackers on the nightstand, along with a glass of ginger ale and some pain meds. I don’t think he even realizes how perfect he is.

  My stomach feels better, but my head is pounding. I sit up and hang my legs over the bed. When I am pretty confident I won’t puke, I stand and head for the stairs.

  “Abraham?” I walk into the kitchen but he’s not there. A cursory check around the house and I turn up empty. Thor and Dozer are following me around the house.

  I head back up the stairs and grab my phone.

  “Good afternoon, sweet girl. I was hoping to be home before you got up. Are you feeling any better?”

  “My stomach feels a little better yeah, where are you?”

  “Damon asked me to come and meet with him and his contractor for the house. I’m on my way back now. I should be there in like five minutes. Why don’t you go lay down. I’ll bring you some beef veggie soup. I’ll even put extra celery in it.”

  My hand slaps over my mouth, I drop my phone, and I dart to the nearest bathroom. After I puke up anything that was left in my body, yet again, I lay down on the floor. Oh fuck me! I left my phone on the kitchen floor. Great. Abraham is probably driving like a maniac to get back to the house to make sure I haven’t been murdered by the lake monster.

  I must have fallen asleep because Abraham is checking the pulse on my throat. “I’m not dead. I just puked and fell asleep. Calm yourself.”

  “You’re sick, so I’ll let the smartassery slide. Let’s get you back to bed, sweet girl.” I’m lifted into his arms but immediately squirm until he puts me down so I can make it to the toilet. “Okay, that’s it. I’m calling Nurse Maggie.”

  “Don’t you dare! I will cut you, Stone.” Maggie has taken it upon herself to call in every once in a while to check up on us and make sure we’re still doing okay.

  He sighs. “Fine, but if you’re still puking in the morning, you won’t be able to stop me. I’ll have Devon go and pick her ass up.”

  “Fine.” Weakly, I stand and start to walk to our bed room. Abraham tries to lift me up. “No. please, I’ll get motion sickness again.”

  “Okay, at least take my arm.” He offers it out and I take it willingly. This sucks so bad.

  »»•««

  I’m lying in our bed facing Abraham. We’re just staring at each other. It’s ten thirty at night. He’s managed to keep everyone at bay. If Devon or Damon caught wind of me being sick, they would have called a horde of doctors in eight different fields.

  “Tell me what you thought when you met me for the first time. You already know what I thought.”

  I give a weak smile. “Honestly, not a gory detail held back?”

  “The truth. However gooey it is for you.”

  “Okay. I spotted you at the bar before I even walked through the doors. I pointed you out to Kate and she about killed herself trying to get to the doors before me.

  “I called dibs. She didn’t fight me too hard since Mickey was there. I tried to casually get your attention but every time I got close, you would take off toward another table. I thought it was me, in a bad way. I had no idea that my brothers threatened you off. Though, looking back, I feel dumb for not seeing it.

  “You were perfect in every way, shape, and form. The tattoos, the clothes, the hair, everything. You’re why I stayed till close that night. I wanted to see what you drove. When I saw your bike, I was fangirling hardcore. I tried my damnedest to get your attention after that without being too obvious.”

  “Damn. Do you realize the amount of time we wasted because of your brothers? They were my best friends though. Shit, they still are. Always will be. I didn’t want to piss them off.”

  “It’s okay, it all worked out in the end. You’ve got me now. And I know that I have you, thanks to my cobbler.”

  He smiles back at me. “You’re stuck with me now. So I hope I’m everything that you’ve asked for, or thought that I would be. I love you, sweet girl.”

  “I love you too, stud. Let’s go to sleep before my stomach decides to rebel again.”

  “As you wish.” He kisses the top of my head. “Good night, angel. Sleep tight.”

  “Good night Thirty-One. Sweet dreams.” I don’t go to his chest tonight, and he doesn’t make me. I’m already too warm. I don’t think that I would do well with more than just my body heat.

  »»•««

  Abraham

  Reagan was back to feeling well enough to go to work at the hospital this morning. Either that or she’s somehow learned how to lie. She could never lie worth a shit to me. It’s one of the reasons I thought she was so damn sexy when I first met her. She would always blush when she lied. Or smile. Either way, she sucks at lying.

  I made her take her Jeep into work at the hospital today instead of her bike. She really hates to be told what to do, but it was either that or she would have had to let me drive her in. I don’t want her feeling like shit in the middle of the day and having to ride home on a motorcycle.

  It’s almost one in the afternoon, so I’m sitting in my office eating a shrimp po'boy from Parkway Bakery & Tavern. Bill puts a napkin in front of his full mouth and starts to talk to me. “So, the Rutgers case took a twist. Did you hear?”

  “Rutgers? I don’t think I’ve even heard of the case.”

  “It’s the one about that dead girl that they found in a ditch, near Mickey’s Ink & Holes, that had been redressed.”

  The one that looked like Reagan. The one that Chris tortured and killed. “What kind of a twist?”

  “They found a second set of prints on her. They don’t match anything in our database, but it’s a full print. As soon as they get something to compare it to, they have no doubt that it will match on all points. I can’t believe you didn’t hear about this.”

  Judge Swanson speaks from my doorway, “That’s because he wasn’t supposed to know, Franks. He’s partially involved with that case.”

  Bill turns to see Joe in the doorway and shrinks in his chair a little. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Wait,” he turns to me, “you knew the victim?”

  “Something like that. Bill, could you give Joe and me a moment?” He doesn’t say a word. He just stands with his lunch in hand and slink
s out of the room.

  “What the fuck, Joe? What happened to ‘keeping me in the loop?’ ”

  Joe sits down in the chair that Bill just vacated. “Now look it, you know damn well that this is one protocol that I have to follow. There is no reason that you should know that there may or may not be two people after Reagan.” He stands, closes the door, and then he takes his seat again.

  I’m a little more than agitated. “We already knew that there was. Between the car chases, the pictures, and his ability to move around this town unseen, we knew there were multiple players in the game. Don’t hide shit from me. What if it was your wife, or your daughter?”

  “That’s different.”

  Pissed, I’m now pissed. “The hell it is. You have to tell me everything. You don’t know what could aid me in protecting her. If she gets hurt because there was something that I didn’t know and should have, it won’t just be Chris that I go after.”

  “I’m going to ignore the implied threat in there. I will tell you the things that are relevant and only what I can. The rest has to be off the damn record, son. Not in this office. They only found that out this morning. Look past your nose before you make assumptions. Why do you think I was coming by here in the first place?”

  “It’s fine, Joe. I apologize. I’m just really on edge lately. She’s my life. I can feel darkness coming. I can feel it in my bones. And I’m scared to death that I won’t be able to stop it.”

  “It will be okay, Elijah. You just have to look past your nose. Keep close to that girl.” He stands to leave, but stops in the doorway. “Trust your instincts, Stone. Normally, when we have a bad feeling, it’s for a reason.”

  Yeah, ’cause that lessens the anxiety even a little bit. He walks out of my office and closes the door behind him. I slam my fists down on the desk. “Fuck!” I want this to go away. Now.

  »»•««

  “What do you mean ‘second set of prints?’ ” Mickey is pissed.

  “I mean, that someone is helping that lowlife try and get to Reagan. I don’t know what to do here, Mickey. I’m stuck. I keep waking in the middle of the night from some form of a nightmare. And the only thing that I can remember of the nightmare is that it involves Reagan. And that, whatever happens, leaves me in a cold sweat and waking more scared than I’ve ever been in my entire life.”