“There he is. Speak of the devil. Isn’t that what they say?” Victor smiled at me through his thick beard. He was a tall man with a thick, muscular frame and wide neck. I’d never seen him in blue jeans, but today he’d shed his usual suit for a more casual look. I didn’t say a word, just gave a nervous smile and nodded.
“You ready for a ride?”
“Sure. Which car are we taking?” My brain said, “Run, idiot!” but I couldn’t do that now. I’d just have to play this out.
“Any one you like. You have a good eye.”
“Let’s take the Caddy.” He tossed me his keys and I walked to the sleek, gray car and opened the door for him. Victor climbed into the back. “Why don’t you and I talk for a minute? Cinco will drive us to the corner.”
Damn. I couldn’t argue. Between Victor, Cinco and the other guy—I think his name was Rene—all I could do was to die courageously. They were all packing heat and I couldn’t even guess what else the three of them carried.
“All right.” I climbed in the back with Victor while Cinco drove and Rene rode shotgun.
“Cinco’s friend tells me that you were in jail. You were in jail and then you came to see me. I find that disturbing, Jack. Wouldn’t you find that disturbing if you were me?”
Oh. Fuck. Me. Now. “Yes, I can see why you would find that disturbing.” That wasn’t the answer I wanted to give, but I knew what was expected of me in this situation. I had to heel. Victor wanted to show himself as the alpha dog and I wasn’t going to argue with him. If he wanted me to tell him, “You’re the man,” I’d do it! Suddenly, I remembered that prayer again. I did want to live.
“I don’t like that. I don’t like disturbing things, Jack. Maybe you think I’m a punk, like one of your street friends.” He stared out the tinted windows of the Cadillac, his gray eyes focused and angry. The atmosphere became very dark, the silence deadly. I didn’t answer him—I knew he wasn’t asking me a question but thinking. Thinking about what to do with me. After a minute, his full attention was on me and he asked in a booming voice, “Haven’t I been good to you? Paying your hospital bill, treating you like a king. Haven’t I treated you with respect?”
“Yes, Victor. You’ve always treated me with respect. And I respect you.” Breathe, dude, and don’t show weakness. Victor’s hand flew up around my neck. I didn’t realize how big his hands were until one of them was wrapped around my throat.
Instinctively my hand flew up and then the car stopped. Don’t fight, just remain calm. “Now you treat me with respect! I am not one of those punks. I am Victor and this is my kingdom. You tell me what I want to know! What did you say to the cops about me! Did you squeak like a little bird?” I didn’t think this was the time to correct his metaphors. I was pretty sure he meant squeal like a bird or talk like a canary.
“Not a thing. I didn’t tell them anything about you, Victor, and they didn’t ask! They are trying to pin a drive-by on me. They think I’m selling drugs to the kids on my street. It’s not true and I didn’t do it. I do respect you!” I said in a raspy voice. His grip got tighter.
“Tell me more.” He didn’t release me completely, but allowed me enough air to breathe.
“I was seeing this girl and her father got mad. He is a lawyer. He drummed up some charges on me, none of its true Victor—I swear it, I swear!”
“I want you to go away, Fitzgerald. I can’t, how do you say, ‘make you disappear’ with all these people asking about you. You have too many eyes watching you, but I want you to go away. That I can do. I’m going to give you a job to do away from the city. It’s a very simple job and I know you will respect me in this. You will do this.”
His deadly eyes penetrated my soul. There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt that he was serious, that he would kill me if he could. I nodded and he released his grip. I rubbed my throat, happy to breathe again.
“Now let me hear you say it.”
“I’ll be happy to respect you and do this job for you. Whatever you need, I’m your guy.”
“Good, as long as you understand me. Let’s go for that drive and I’ll tell you all about the job.” The car stopped and I climbed out of the seat on shaky legs. My heart pounded in my chest so heavily, I felt like someone could see my shirt move if they’d cared to look. I silently thanked God that I was still alive as I changed seats with Cinco. The bald man smirked at me—obviously amused by the whole situation. I didn’t make eye contact. I just got in the seat and followed directions. That was the only way I was going to stay alive.
Chapter Seven — Mollie
I’d given up on talking to Jack. I took the bus by his house a couple of times, but he was never home. I thought I’d seen Elaina standing on the street, but by the time I’d walked back to the sidewalk after banging on his door, she was gone. Knocking on random doors in this neighborhood wasn’t a good idea and I wasn’t sure which one was her apartment. I wiped the hot tears trying to fall from my eyes and climbed back aboard the smelly bus. I’d left a note, though. His house was broken up, but I’d opened the screen door slightly and slid the note inside. I hoped it wouldn’t get lost or blown away. Maybe he’d call me, maybe he wouldn’t but I’d left him the number to my new cell phone and my job.
Days went by and I never heard a thing from Jack. I guessed that was my answer—he didn’t want to talk to me. How could I blame him? It was because of me and my father that he went to jail in the first place. No words could describe how embarrassed I felt about what happened to him. I checked my phone every so often, but the only people who called me were Natalie, when she wanted me to bring something home, and work. Finally, a few days after my last visit to Jack’s place, I got a call from someone else. It was Dylan. I’d all but forgotten about him. “Hey, I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time. Do we still have a date next weekend? I’m supposed to pick up the tux and I haven’t heard from you, so…”
I smiled into the phone. “Yes, we do have a date. I’m sorry I haven’t called. I’ve been working double shifts the past couple of days and…” I sounded so lame. “You know what, there’s no excuse. I’ve just been a bad friend, sorry. And here you are trying to do me a favor.”
“Not a problem, Mollie. I understand that life happens.” Silence passed between us and then he said, “I hope you like ruffles.”
I scratched my head. “Not really a big fan, why?”
“That’s a shame. I guess you won’t like the shirt I picked out for my tuxedo.”
I listened to the silence for minute. “Wait—what?”
“It’s a joke, Mollie. I’m joking.”
I smiled again, my hand on my hip. I was tired, too tired to recognize a joke when I heard one. “I’m sorry. I normally get jokes, but my brain is lagging a bit behind today.”
“That’s a shame, because I was thinking of asking you to come have a bite with me. Maybe have dinner or something.”
“Are you asking me out?” Again, I couldn’t think properly.
He laughed nervously. “Yeah, but to be fair, you asked me out first.”
I chuckled. “True. Yes, I’ll have dinner with you, but it will have to be tonight. I have to work the next two days. Long shifts. My feet hate the long ones.” I laughed wryly.
“Hey, sounds good to me.” We talked a little more about where we’d meet and then I hung up the phone.
At some point, Natalie had walked into the room. She was rubbing her nails with a file and was already in her sweat pants, ready for lounging and wine. “Did I hear you got a date?”
“You heard that? I didn’t expect that. Um, that was Dylan. The person I asked to take me to the fundraiser. I still can’t believe I did that.” I grinned at her and made a motion with my hand to show her I was cuckoo. “I guess he can’t wait to see me again. He’s taking me to dinner tonight, so I guess you’ll be cooking for one.”
“Boo hoo. I’m not crying. And yeah, you took a chance and look what happened. Who knows? You might end up really liking him. You need to get out
more and I know how to cook for one. I did it before you got here, you know.”
“Ouch!” That stung. “I know I’ve been a big inconvenience. Thanks for letting me stay here. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you, Nat.”
She tapped me with her nail file playfully. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just mean that I survived before you got here and you act like an old woman. You should get out and have fun from time to time and stop moping over…well, you know who.”
“Jack, his name is Jack. And for the record, I’m not moping over anyone.” I flopped on the couch beside her.
“Sure. Tell it to the judge.” She flipped on the television to watch her favorite judge program while she painted her perfect toenails a bright red with her expert hands. “So, what are you wearing tonight?”
I had a feeling she was about to tell me. I searched my closet while she bossed me around from the couch. I didn’t mind. She was the fashion expert—as a matter of fact, the design house that hired her just signed on for another season. Natalie was doing well, and I was happy for her. She deserved all the good things that came her way.
“Wait! Where are you guys eating?” she called from the other room.
“That place on Catherine Street—Zeta’s. Have you been there?”
“Yes, it’s nice. You’d better wear a dress, maybe that blue one. No, wait. Go to my closet and get that lavender one, the one with the sweetheart neckline.”
I stepped into Natalie’s walk-in closet. It was like being in a retail store. “Wow, really? The lavender one? Which one?”
She didn’t answer and instead she shuffled into the room with nail sponges in between her toes. “That one, it still has the tags on it.”
“No way. You haven’t even worn it yet!”
“So? Don’t spill spaghetti on it. Wear your silver strappy heels and maybe that diamond pendant necklace. Simple is best.” I hugged her neck and kissed her cheek. “Hey, watch the nails.” I ran to try the dress on. It was a little longer on me than it would be on Natalie. She was three inches taller but I looked good in it. I slipped it off over my head. I still had an hour before my date, so no need to get it wrinkled before then.
Once Natalie’s nails had dried, she went downstairs to her workroom. She spent a lot of time there now, more than I would have imagined. She had such talent and a great crew of talented folks, but she insisted on being involved in every detail.
“I know they call me a micro-manager, among other things, but it’s my name on the label, so I can do what I damn well please!” She was right, it was her label but I didn’t think she had anything to worry about. Her people were loyal and good to her.
I decided to kill some time and logged onto my bank account. I took a deep breath and stared in disbelief at my account balance. I never thought I’d see it so low, but it was slowly creeping up. Not too long ago, it had been almost zero and now I only need a few hundred more before I could get a car. Truthfully, I had great credit, thanks in part to my father, but I couldn’t afford to take on a car note and I didn’t have much for a down payment. I knew I’d get my trust eventually, but how long would it take? No time soon, according to Mr. Jernigan. Dad was holding out to the end, postponing everything he could, just to hurt me.
I thought about the last phone call from Jernigan. He’d said, “Eventually, the judge will tell him off, but there’s nothing we can do about it for now. If you’re in bad shape financially, I can plead a hardship case with the judge. It might be that your father will agree and give you some kind of allowance—against your trust, of course.”
I’d been resolute in saying no to that. “I don’t care if I have to live in a cardboard box. I don’t want to ask that man for a thing. No, I mean it. I’ve got a place to stay, I have a job. The bus stop isn’t far from my place. I’ll make it. I know you’re trying to be helpful, but that’s not how I want to do things. Okay?”
He begrudgingly agreed and let it go. I had to confess that I’d been weak in my resolve a time or two. How easy would it be to ask for a little money?
I checked my work schedule for the coming two weeks and I loved that they posted it online. Since a trip to work wasn’t just a matter of grabbing my keys, I needed to plan ahead if I wanted to get there on time. No more hopping in the car fifteen minutes before my shift. The bus ride took forty minutes each way, sometimes longer if it ran late or the weather was bad. Natalie had offered to shuttle me around, but I wasn’t having that at all. She didn’t adopt me. I wanted to show my friend that I wasn’t a wimpy woman and I could be independent—just like her.
About a half-hour before my date, I showered and quickly straightened my hair. I could never figure out why women took so long to get ready. Hair and makeup took me eight minutes tops, but today, my hair didn’t want to cooperate, so I just teased it a little in front and pulled it back into a ponytail. I’d toyed with the idea of getting it cut, but I always changed my mind.
I passed the flat iron over the ends one last time before Dylan tapped politely on the door. I looked through the tiny peephole. God, he was handsome. I’d forgotten how attracted I was to him. Not in a Romeo and Juliet kind of way. This was physical—he was all man and he made my lady parts tingle. Dylan wore a dark blue, long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up a few times with soft grey trousers. I spotted a silver, yet manly bracelet on his wrist. I took a deep breath and opened the door.
“Wow. You look amazing!” His big, beautiful smile beamed his approval of my attire.
“Thanks, so do you. You want to come in?” I stepped back and let him in. I half expected to see Natalie run up the stairs behind him. My bestie could be a little nosy at times. Bruno, the big gray cat, came out to greet him. He gave a loud meow, flopped in front of Dylan and showed us his fat belly. “That’s strange. He never comes out, even for me. He’s totally Natalie’s cat.”
He bent down and petted the cat’s velvety, gray fur. “He’s got good taste.” He grinned up at me. “I like animals. My parents had a rescue shelter when I was young and I guess the love for animals has always stuck with me. I didn’t really have cats but I had plenty of dogs.”
“That’s so interesting.” I laughed at him. “Should I leave you two alone?”
“No way. I’ll take you over a cat any day. I’m ready when you are.” He stood up and wiped away cat hair from his pants.
“Okay, let me get my purse.” I stepped into my room, checked my hair one last time and grabbed my bag on the way out. Yep, the flat iron was turned off. That’s all I needed…to burn down my friend’s apartment. I waved my fingers at Bruno and shut the door behind us. Dylan offered me his arm and we walked out into the night together. He opened the door of his truck and closed it behind me. Okay, ten points for that. Maybe chivalry isn’t dead, after all.
Dylan cranked his truck, but we didn’t move. I looked at him and wondered what he was doing. He leaned closer to me and I didn’t move away. I could smell his clean skin, his cologne. In barely a whisper he said, “I know kisses are usually saved for the end of a date, but I can’t resist. May I kiss you?”
I was so taken aback by his question and I couldn’t deny I felt attracted to him so I whispered, “Yes.”
Dylan cupped my chin with his hand and tilted my face to him. He lips brushed mine tentatively at first then they were fully on me, a deep, forceful kiss—but again, I didn’t resist him. I could tell Dylan liked being in charge, and I didn’t mind. He was a great kisser and when it was over, he hovered close to me, looking into my eyes like a hungry man. I thought he would say something else, but he didn’t. I stroked his cheek with the back of my hand and looked back into his eyes. It was nice to be desired, and to see it so obviously displayed on his face. It had been so long since I’d felt wanted like this.
Now, I surprised myself. It was my turn—I wanted to kiss Dylan. My arms snaked around his neck and I slid closer to him. Our first—well, second—kiss was long and sensual. Dylan tasted minty, clean and he felt warm. Th
e kiss became more passionate, more needy. My hands rubbed down his chest, his moved up my waist, caressing my breast carefully, and I didn’t push his hand away. I wanted him to keep going, but simultaneously, we stopped, both of us short of breath.
“Maybe we should go to dinner now.”
“I think you’re right,” I agreed.
We drove to Zeta’s without saying much. I couldn’t speak for Dylan, but my heart raced and my palms were sweaty. Strangely enough, I barely thought about Jack. At least for a moment.
Chapter Eight — Jack
My gig for Victor was almost over and I’d never been so glad. Fortunately, the Russian hadn’t given me an illegal task, just a demeaning one. His girlfriend—his favorite, anyway—went to his beach house for a few days and needed a driver for herself, her friends and her dogs—three fucking Chihuahuas who liked me about as much I liked them.
I drove them around town for shopping, clubbing and whatever else they decided to do in the back of the stretch Hummer. A few of them cast their eye at me a couple of times, but the threat of Victor’s hand on my neck kept me in line. Now that the heat was off, I could breathe easily again. Some crack head got picked up for the shooting and the charges against me had been dropped—all charges. I came back to town with a nice payday and I loved that Victor dealt in cash. Still, that wasn’t going to last for long. I missed my car, I missed racing and I still hated that I’d missed my deadline for Stockton Racing. I considered calling Sylvia and begging her for another chance, but I wasn’t sure she’d even take my call.
I’d spent a few nights at a hotel, but now I needed to go back home and deal with that shit, so I left the Regency and decided to walk it. I’d gotten quite used to walking after losing my car. It wasn’t that far and it took me past my favorite part of town. The smell of fried food and the sound of music let me know that I was close. Here I was again, back in Artist’s Row, watching the street performers and the artists working in their booths. It was inspirational and besides in my car, this was my second favorite place to be.
Fueled Obsession 3 Page 5