by Tia Louise
I fall back on the sofa. “Not yet, but I’m used to the weekly drought. Check with me tomorrow. I’ll be climbing the walls I’m sure.”
“After being with Brian you’d think I’d be used to it. Hell, I think my hymen grew back when we were dating.”
That makes me laugh. “You’re so crazy. That doesn’t happen.”
“Now I’m completely screwed.” She crunches something in my ear. “I’ve gotten used to Patrick being in my panties every night—I don’t know what to do when he’s gone.”
“Haven’t you been doing it over the phone?”
“Mmm…” Another crunch. “That’s actually more frustrating. He tells me all this dirty stuff he wants to do to me, and he’s a million miles away! It’s awful!”
“You’re supposed to finish while you’re on the phone, dum-dum.”
“I’m still all achy and needing him.” I hear her sit up fast. “Do you have a dildo?”
Laughter bursts out of me then. “I have Derek.”
“Not all week! What are you hiding? I bet you have a stash.”
Picking up the remote, I start the kaleidoscope of channels again. “I hate to disappoint you, Miss Gold Tie, but I’m not hiding a toy collection.”
“Hmm. Neither am I. We should do some research tomorrow night when I’m there.”
“What are you eating?” I’m back to watching the faces flash past on the screen.
“Popcorn. Do you want me to run by the store before I come over? After school?”
“Yes. Get chips and salsa, guacamole, tamales…”
“Real and virgin margaritas.” She pauses for a moment. “Are you doing okay? Really? This has to be bothering you.”
I stop switching channels on a talent competition and hit mute. “I’m not sure how I feel. Derek’s so convinced I’m in danger, and I can’t change his mind. I won’t let my mind travel to what he might do—the lengths he might go to.”
“Patrick’s there. He won’t let anything happen they can’t sit on. Or get out of.”
I know she’s right, but I know something more. My mind drifts to my conversation with Patrick a week ago. “He promised me…”
Elaine keeps talking. “I gotta be honest, I don’t know how you two can keep up the long distance. I hate it.”
“No shit. I’m starting to remember how obnoxious you were before Patrick relocated.” Bending my elbow so I can prop my head on my hand, I gaze out the window at the swaying sea oats. “We’ve agreed to end it after this job, but even if that means more time for me in Princeton, I’m not giving up my place here.”
“I love your cottage. I wish it were warm enough to sunbathe all weekend. You’ve got the best spot for going topless.”
Lying back, I stretch my arms over my head. “One more month and you can attempt to get arrested on my beach all you like.”
She laughs. “I have a feeling your beach sees plenty of risky business without me. Besides, we’ve got connections. See you tomorrow.”
“Night, Lainey.”
For a few minutes after disconnecting, I lie there and flip through photos of Derek on my phone until I can’t decide if it makes me feel better or worse. I stand and go to the kitchen to heat water in the kettle. Maybe chamomile tea will help me relax.
Turning my back to the counter to wait for the whistle, I type up a text. He’s probably not in a position to reply, but I want him to know…
Miss you so much. It’s hard to sleep outside your arms.
Holding my phone, I think of his lovely face on my pillow. At least the bed still smells like him, even if I’m not clutched tight against his chest. My phone vibrates.
Miss you too. Hope to finish here soon.
Imagining our reunion provokes a little tingle. I have a special red nightie waiting for you.
You’re beautiful in red.
You’re beautiful in everything.
You’re beautiful in nothing. My favorite.
A pouty sigh escapes my lips, and I’m as frustrated as Elaine. I want him here now. Please be careful. Remember Dex and I need you.
No matter where I am, you are all I see.
My insides melt, and I kiss my phone face before typing. I love you.
Love you more. Sleep. I’ll be there soon.
I’ll try. xxx
With a deep breath, I look once more at the images on my phone trying not to feel miserable. My thumb pauses on a shot of me Derek took a while back. I’m smiling, and my hair’s blowing across my face from the side. The little gold heart at the base of my throat catches the light.
Placing my phone on the counter, I snatch up the flashlight and run out to the side porch. Shining it all around, I get down on my hands and knees and feel under the small sofa one more time. Again, I come back with nothing.
Frustrated, I sit back on my heels and look out at the dark night toward the shoreline. The doors are all locked, and I promised Derek I wouldn’t do any more night walks until he’s back. Still, I can’t help wondering if I lost it out there somewhere. Maybe a metal detector…
Just then the whistle starts loud from the kitchen. I push up from the floor, and walk slowly in the direction of the noise as my thoughts travel across the miles to where he is. He’s taking a huge risk. Everything could go wrong, and he could lose his license, his business…
Exhaling a tiny prayer to Saint Michael, I take the kettle off the fire and pour the water into my waiting mug.
Chapter 11: Opening Act
Derek
Time feels like it stretches on for hours as we wait, wondering if our target will come back or move on. I want to call Mel, but I also want the kitchen staff to forget I’m here. So I keep quiet. Until she texts me.
All the reasons I’m here come rushing back in just a few lines—to protect her, to keep her safe. We say goodnight, and just like that, everything starts to move.
Patrick shoots me a text. Switch on. We’re back in business.
I quickly put the earbuds back in just in time to hear Sloan talking to Star. Two more martinis, and she’s making progress.
“I only waited to tell you goodnight.” Her disguised voice is suggestive but tentative. “My rep never showed up, so I guess I’ll head back to my hotel now. Alone.”
A few seconds pass, and he doesn’t respond. I’m hanging on the sounds of glasses clinking and the low roar of voices. He finally speaks.
“How long are you in town?” I’m not sure, but it sounds like a nibble.
“Just a few days.” She releases a sad sigh. “I’ll head back to DC and look for a new job there, I guess.”
“What were you doing before you left?”
“I was an intern for Senator Daltry.”
Silence, more noise from the bar. Muffled talking. I can’t tell if that was them or what happened. Then they’re back.
“…wouldn’t mind a little company.” I missed the first of that, but it sounds promising. “We can discuss it tomorrow night if you’d like to have dinner with me?”
“Oh, I’d love to!” The gushy sound of her voice worries me. She doesn’t need to be too easy. “I really want to stay in the city.”
The noise is muffled again, and then the voices vanish altogether. I’m straining against the tiny white headphones. What’s going on?
Footsteps outside the door, and it pushes open. Patrick shoves inside, and I realize he put his phone in his coat and headed up here.
“She did it.” He hangs by the window, scanning the alley. “This is good. One of us can get down there fast if anything goes wrong.”
“I’ll let you take that route. I’ll use the stairs and the kitchen exit.”
He chuckles. “Thanks.”
“So what’d I miss? You apparently shoved your phone in your pocket at a critical point.”
Pulling it out again, Patrick checks the face. “Our man offered her a job ‘keeping him company’ while she’s in town. Strictly a test-run, of course.”
“I heard they’re having di
nner tomorrow night?”
“Gives us one more day to prepare.”
The next day we hit the gym again, but not too hard. Star doesn’t want to be tired, but we all feel better knowing we’ve polished her self-defense moves.
“The first night will probably just be hummers and fingering.” Her tone is as casual as if she’s tending bar. “Probably don’t need to worry too much about martial arts.”
“I like knowing you’re more prepared.” Wiping my face with the towel, I grab a bottle of water.
Her attention turns to Patrick finishing up a set of curls. “What made you take off last night?”
He exhales loudly and drops the weight, going to lean against the wall. We’re alone in the small room, so we’re being less guarded with our speech. “Did it seem like he was on guard to you? Like he kept looking around?”
She frowns. “Not really. He seemed pretty relaxed, actually, but I guess he does this all the time.”
I can tell Patrick’s not satisfied, and I know my partner pretty well.
“What did you see?” I move closer and lower my voice.
Patrick shrugs. “It was probably me being paranoid, then. I don’t do this all the time.”
“Still, what was it?”
“A few times it seemed like he was looking my way. Like he had his eye on me.”
Star has joined us in the huddle. “I don’t think he’s bisexual.”
“That’s not what I mean. More like he was… curious or something.”
“It didn’t stop him from propositioning me.”
Pressing my lips together, I think about what Patrick is saying. “Sounds like tomorrow night you should be somewhere else. Is there another place you can observe and not be seen?”
“I’ll go over early and try to find a spot.” He turns to Star. “You’ll be in the exact same place?”
“That’s the plan.”
Nodding, Patrick starts to go. “I’m headed back. Don’t worry if you don’t see me tonight. I’ll be there.”
I know he will. It’s almost three, and we all go our separate ways to reconvene at eight.
Five hours later I’m back in the cramped closet, waiting blind. It’s the worst kind of surveillance, even though I know Patrick’s out there being our eyes. I’m in the dark space wondering how long before I lose it.
I check my watch. It’s eight-thirty now. Pulling out my phone, I read back over the texts Mel and I sent back and forth today. Elaine’s spending the night, they’re having a Mexican fiesta, a few suggestive exchanges involving red thongs and sheer nighties. I smile.
I’d give anything to be there with her tonight, my unpleasant task behind us. But this problem won’t take care of itself, and I’m here to see it through to the end.
More time passes. I lean my head back against the wall and try to rest. There’s no fucking way I’m sleeping, but I’m not much for playing with apps, and looking at photos of Mel only gets me more keyed up.
Another thirty minutes pass. I think about what’s to come, and what we’ve got to get through to pin this on Sloan. Then I think about him behind bars and what Star said about wanting him out of our lives for good. We could do all this, and he could still get out on parole. Then what?
My eyes squeeze shut. Now isn’t the time to worry about that. It only distracts me from our plan, from what we have to make happen here.
Checking my watch, I’m sure they’ve had dinner at this point. It’s after nine, and it’s getting nice and dark in the alley. Just then the door pushes open and my adrenaline kicks up a notch.
“Show’s starting.” Patrick pauses to catch his breath. “Crack the window. We should be able to see them.”
I move to the small window and give it a push. Straining into the night, I locate the black door with the orange stripe across the bottom. It’s almost directly below us.
“That’s the spot. She knows where to go.”
We hang out a few minutes, and I’m about ready to ask if he came up too soon when we hear shuffling outside below us. A scuff of heels followed by the slamming of a door.
The acoustics are bad, and the sound echoes up to where we are louder than I expected—or wanted. The click of heels on pavement is clear as a bell, and shortly after, we’re bathed in a soundtrack of female moans and gasps. Shit.
“This is great,” I grumble, but Patrick shoves his elbow in my torso.
He communicates in gestures. “If we can hear them, they might hear us.”
Shaking my head, I turn away from the window, but listening is going to be unavoidable, it seems.
Pulling out my phone, I stare at the face again. Patrick stays by the window watching.
Just kissing. He texts.
I’m not really interested in the play-by-play, but I suppose we do need to keep tabs on whether the events are consensual or not.
More gasping punctuated by little moans. “Touch me,” Star whispers in an urgent tone. “Touch me.”
So far it sounds about as consensual as this setup was intended to be.
A loud moan.
Fingering. My partner texts again.
Great. Just fucking great. My eyes roam up to the ceiling, and I try to think of a million other things.
“Oh, god, yes!” Star’s voice breaks the silence. “Oh, god! Don’t stop!”
Looking at my hand, I think about how much easier it would be if I just beat him to death.
“Don’t stop… oh please… pleeease…” Her voice is high. I’m going to need a workout after this. “Ohh…”
Cries of what I can only assume are an orgasm continue to fill the small space where we’re hiding. I can’t tell if it’s real or fake, and I deny the tightness across my fly. Even Patrick drops his gaze to his shoes, but what comes next snaps us both back to attention.
“On your knees.” Sloan’s voice is sharp as he gives the order. It’s the sound we’ve been waiting for. “My turn.”
“But… I…” She pretends to be confused. Patrick and I both frown at each other… Is she taunting him so soon?
Sloan’s undeterred. “You came all over my hand, now I intend to fuck your mouth.”
The tone in his voice sparks a burn of rage in my stomach. He starts that shit on the first night, it seems. I’m ready to go down and kick his ass, but I feel Patrick’s hand grip my arm. His thumb is moving over his phone.
Mine lights up. She’s prepared for this. Let her lay the groundwork.
Adrenaline is spiking my heartbeat. All I can think of is Melissa being subjected to this fucker’s shit, but I hold it together. Shuffling noises meet our ears, and I step forward to see what’s happening.
The asshole has his back to the brick wall, and he leans back as Star’s head bobs up and down at his crotch. Shit. She’s going at it.
Stepping back to the wall again, I rub my neck and revisit the plan. It’s only the first night. We prepared for this to happen. As many times as I remind myself, this is what she signed on for, I still don’t feel any better about it.
Low groans fill the air now. A male hiss, and I’m glad I haven’t eaten. Patrick’s still watching the whole thing, his hand held out in a “Wait” motion.
Muffled sounds come from Star. A popping noise, and she gasps, laughs a little.
“Good girl,” Sloan murmurs to her. “Now all the way… All the way.”
More muffled hums. It’s quiet a few moments then loud gagging. Patrick straightens up like he’s ready to go through the window, and I touch his arm. His thumb flies over his phone face.
Holding her in a deep throat. Can’t tell if she’s okay.
Coughing, she gasps and laughs again. It’s shaky, but fuck. I don’t know what to do.
“Good?” His tone is condescending, like a coach or a teacher. I want to bash his head against the wall.
“You’re so big.” Her voice is shaky, but I hear her smile. I rub my forehead, wishing to be anywhere but here.
“Almost there…” His voice is straine
d and punctuated by the sounds of Star working him. Scuffing of shoes, low groans, then a deep “Ahhh… Drink it all. Fuck yes,” which I know is him finishing.
Patrick’s lips are tight when I glance up at him.
Star’s back to high, breathy Marilyn. “Good?”
“Very good. You can really take it, can’t you?” The note of ridicule in his voice makes me hate him even more. I didn’t think that was possible.
“I guess.” Star’s doing the best imitation of timid I’ve heard in a while, and I’m ready to nominate her for an Oscar.
“No guessing, you can. Next time we’ll see just how much you can take, and then maybe we’ll discuss my apartment downtown. I’m looking for someone new.”
“What does that mean?” She actually sounds excited, and my stomach turns.
“It means treats. And tricks.”
“Tricks?”
Sloan’s clothes are back in order, and Star leans beside him against the wall. Her black dress is smooth, and only her hair is messy from their encounter.
“You’ll see.” He touches her hair lightly. “I recently lost someone…”
Tenderness is in his voice. I don’t believe it for one fucking second, but we all strain forward anyway, hanging on what he might say next.
“Want to tell me about it?”
Her hand slides across his torso, and for a moment, I think she’s going to embrace him—then I notice her black-lace thong peeking out from his pants pocket. He seems to remember as well, and it snaps him out of whatever moment he was just having.
Sloan catches her hand with a menacing smile. “I’ll hang onto these. You can have them back tomorrow night.”
“When we meet for something more?”
“We’ll meet at the bar. Or where are you staying?”
“I’m nearby. The umm… Bridgestreet.”
I can see him thinking. “We’d better start at the bar. Here, since you came first, you only get half.”
“That wasn’t the deal.” She slants her eyes like he just told a joke. “What will I do with you?”
He hands over a white envelope. “Just so we’re clear, I intend to fuck you tomorrow night. In interesting ways.”