by A. J. Norris
“Whatcha smiling about over there? And you’re staring at me. Am I really that interesting to look at?”
Her face flushed. “Uh huh.”
Mikey chuckled. “Okay.” He pulled into the theater parking lot. Grace wasn’t sure of the title of the movie. She didn’t care as long as he sat next to her and held her hand.
Walking into the cinema, women stared at Mikey. She figured the attention was due to his handsome features. His hair flopped over one of his eyes. Thinking about his square jaw with a five o’clock shadow made her wet.
She excused herself to use the restroom after he bought the tickets. She always had to go pee once she got to the movie theater. If she didn’t empty her bladder, she would spend most of the movie wishing she had. Plus, she wanted a soda and some popcorn.
Mikey was standing in line at the concession stand when she came out. The previews started when they sat down. “I forgot what we’re seeing.”
“You picked it,” he said with a laugh.
Grace balanced the popcorn on her lap and put on her sweatshirt. Mikey steadied the large tub. After another minute of situating herself Mikey handed her the popcorn. He grabbed a handful. She ate one piece at a time.
“Do you always eat your popcorn one at a time like that?”
“Yep. I want it to last.”
“Okay, but they have free refills, you know.”
“I know, but I don’t like to miss any of the movie. What are we seeing again?”
Mikey chuckled and the lights dimmed. The film turned out to be completely uninteresting. She laid her head on his shoulder. Her eyelids sagged.
The end of the movie came to an abrupt halt. Or had she fallen asleep? Her foot bumped into the empty tub of popcorn on the floor at her feet. Grace bent down and picked it up. “Ah, did you eat all my popcorn?”
“Guilty,” Mikey confessed, “and you look adorable when you’re sleeping.”
“Sorry. I guess I was tired.”
“Well, you didn’t miss much, the movie was terrible.”
Mikey laced his fingers through hers on the way back to the car. He didn’t open the door right away. Instead, put his arms around her waist and leaned in for a kiss. Grace glanced around for potential voyeurs. “There are people.”
“I don’t care who sees,” he said against her lips and slipped his hand up the back of her neck.
“I have sleep breath,” she cautioned him.
“Also don’t care.”
His lips brushed against hers. “Mmmm,” she moaned. Her eyes closed; her hands weaved into his thick hair. He ran his hands down her back and cupped her bottom. She sucked on his lower lip and he groaned.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he whispered.
“Then don’t.” Every part of her felt weightless. Hungry for this man and what he did to her body. Her panties were soaked. She could feel her bra rub against her hard nipples.
A group of people walked by and Grace broke contact. Mikey wasn’t discouraged and hugged her closely. He nuzzled her neck. “That tickles.” Her body quivered as she giggled. “We should go.”
“But I’m having so much fun.” He took a step backward with a lopsided grin on his face.
“Get in the car,” she commanded. He hit the remote unlock button on his key fob. In seconds they were in the back seat of his SUV. Thank God for tinted windows at night. She straddled his thighs and undid his pants, revealing his hard cock. Her loose skirt made it easy for Mikey to grab her underwear. The lace tore when he pulled at the crotch. “Wait, I brought something.” She reached into her purse and found the three-pack of Trojans. He used his teeth to tear a square foil. “Here, let me do that.”
“All right, darlin’.” He eased back with his hands behind his head. His eyes stayed on her face.
“There, all done.” Grace glided down on top of him and he thrusted his hips toward her. “Ow.” Her head bumped the roof.
“Sorry…you, okay?”
“Oh God, yes,” she announced, although not to answer his question. She tilted her head and put their foreheads together. His rapid breathing matched hers. They kept the same slow rhythm, enjoying each other in the moment that neither of them wanted to end.
She slipped her hand between them and found the top of her sex. “Oh…oh…oh…never stop, oh God.” The wet heart of her pulsated around him. Her vision fuzzed in and out and her entire body tightened. She realized she was no longer doing most of the work.
Mikey gripped her ass, grinding into her, his gasps coming faster and louder. “Grace…I’m getting close…oh God…oh fuck.”
“Come for me, baby…please,” she told him.
He squeezed her fiercely and released.
She giggled. “God, you’re so sexy.” They held onto each other waiting for their breathing to return to normal.
He kissed her. “You’re amazing too, thank you. I really like being with you.”
“Me too. And thank you.” She put her hand up to her mouth. “Um, do you think anyone saw or heard us?”
“I dunno. Who cares?”
“I guess you’re right and it’s too late to worry about that now. Oops.”
They righted their clothing and got into the front seat. “Where to next?” she asked as he started the car.
“I don’t know. I was thinking more sex at your place, unless you’re too tired.” He winked at her.
“Nope. Got my power nap on in the theater.”
“Yes you did.” His laughter filled the car.
Her head flopped against the headrest. “Did I snore?”
“A little. I think the theater next to us heard.”
He cursed under his breath at the Cadillac in front of them. The traffic had been cleared but the car failed to make a left turn out of the parking lot.
Grace pushed his shoulder. “They did not.”
He chuckled. “No, but you thought about it, didn’t you?”
“Oh my God, I so don’t like you right now.”
“Yes you do.” He grinned and made a right turn out of the movie theater parking lot.
So sure of himself, is he?
She crossed her arms in defeat. He reached out for her hand, and she allowed him to take it. He surprised her and brought the hand up to his lips. Grace’s father had always told her that if a man does this, he truly respects and cares for you.
Up the road a seatbelt/DUI check had been set up. Several cop cars were parked along both sides of the road. A uniformed cop in the middle of the road waved cars on or made them pull over to the right.
“What’s this now?” Mikey said.
Grace slumped down in her seat. She recognized the cop directing the drivers. Her dad and he bowled together for years and he was a regular at her father’s poker nights at the house. Not that she played with “the boys,” except she’d been seen over there during the games.
Mikey glanced at her. “Ah, if you’re wanted by the police, I think your behavior may be deemed suspicious.”
“What do you mean?” She sat back up but looked out the opposite window.
He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m kidding.”
“I know.” Her elbow was propped up on door and she rested her cheek on the back of her hand.
Mikey reached the cop’s position and rolled down his window.
“Can you pull over for me?” The officer pointed to the side. He looked at Grace. His brow raised as recognition passed over his face.
“No problem,” Mikey told him.
“Grace?” the cop asked, ducking his head below the top of the window.
One corner of her mouth perked up. “Hi.”
“I thought that was you, Gracie.” The cop yelled over the top of the car, “Hey, Bobby! Gracie’s in this car.”
Great.
Just what she needed, another man bailing after learning her dad was a detective.
“Friends of yours?” Mikey asked, pulling into the spot he was told.
“Yeah, they used to play pok
er with my dad.” She crossed her arms over her chest, hoping he wouldn’t ask her a follow up question. Thankfully, he got the message.
Bobby walked over. “Well, let’s see, do you have your seatbelts on?”
Grace glanced heavenward. As if they were looking for seatbelt law violators.
“License and registration, please,” he told Mikey and winked at her. She half-smiled in return.
Please don’t ask about Dad.
“This will only take a minute.” Unwarranted fatherly nonsense kicked in for Bobby. “You had anything to drink tonight, son?”
Grace flopped her head on the seat.
Are you kidding me? No, she mouthed.
“We’re coming from a movie,” Mikey said.
Bobby disappeared for a couple of minutes. Mikey tapped his heel on the floor boards. “Uh, Grace, you should probably know this, so there aren’t any surprise—”
“Vision impaired driving, huh?” Bobby said with a smirk, interrupting her boyfriend.
Grace knew vision impaired meant a drunk-driving misdemeanor conviction. She remembered him telling her he shouldn’t drink on their date at Cocoa’s. The cop handed Mikey his papers and he stuffed his ID into his wallet without making eye contact.
“Be safe. Don’t drink. Bye, Grace.” The cop walked away. They were waved through.
“You were about to tell me about this when he walked up, weren’t you?”
“Yeah, sorry. I haven’t had a drink in over a year.” He stared out the windshield.
“It’s all right. Mistakes happen.” She held his hand.
They drove to her place in silence. She vowed never to speak of that moment ever again and not because of what she learned about him; she didn’t want him to know her father was a cop yet.
How many relationships had failed in the beginning because they learned this fact too early? Grace didn’t know why men freaked out, but they did. It was scary to think that maybe it was because they had something to hide. She put her angst out of her mind.
She yawned outside her apartment door and so did he. “You tired too?”
“Not really, but I should get—”
“You’re coming in, right?” she blurted out, hoping to avoid being blown off.
“You want me to?”
“You know I meant it when I said it’s all right about the drunk-driving thing.”
“I know, thank you,” he said but she knew otherwise. His embarrassment had been evident. She took both his hands. Her father had taught her that people could change if they wanted to.
His heavy-lidded eyes found her lips. Out in the hallway he bent down and picked her up and pressed her against the door. She wrapped her legs around his waist. He kissed her until they were both out of breath.
He set her down and mussed her hair. Her hands turned into thumbs while she fiddled with the lock.
“Let me help you. Please.” His eyes flared.
“All right, as long as I can help you out of your jeans.”
“Stand back.” He raised his leg mimicking kicking the door down.
“No—oh…ha. Very funny.”
The door swung open and he entered after her.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
Mikey
A woman leaned over the glass display counter at Ink Addiction. Mikey didn’t recognize her at first. She was the new waitress at Hector’s, hired after Jennifer’s murder. He shuddered. The girl had died in order for Mary to have that job. The restaurant didn't have a high turnover as far as he knew. He'd been frequenting the place for years. Mary seemed to be interested in the jewelry in the case. She squatted so she was eye-level with the front of the glass. When she abruptly stood up he knew it was because she realized they were rings and barbells made for tongues, navels, noses, lips, and any body part one could get pierced. She’d probably thought they were pretty until closer inspection. She grimaced and backed away. Mikey chuckled.
“Can I help you with something, Mary?” He sauntered down the length of the counter.
Mary blushed and looked up at him. “No. I—you know me?”
“You work at Hector’s and you almost waited on me and my girlfriend.”
“Oh, that’s right. I remember now.”
Mikey smiled. “What brings you in today?”
The chimes over the door jangled and they both turned in the direction of the sound. Cody strode in and parked himself next to her.
“Hey, man. What can I do for you today?” Mikey asked, offering his hand to shake Cody’s. An offering the other man always ignored.
“A tattoo.”
“Figured. What will it be this time? Got some new designs finished, if you'd like to take a look.” Mikey smiled, he was proud of his new creations. Lots of color.
“No. Well maybe she would,” Cody said. Mary swiveled her head toward him, her eyes widening with an expression of no-way. She shook her head.
“I don't think she's interested,” Mikey said.
“She wants one.”
While they argued amongst themselves, Mikey walked away to attend to another walk-in potential client. He glanced at the guy with his slouched knit hat and Abercrombie and Fitch clothing.
The hipster produced a folded-up design. The sketch was rough, but he could work with it. Mikey studied the drawing. “Been inked before?” he asked.
“Nope. I'm a virgin.”
I'll bet.
“What you've drawn here will have to be a lot bigger to get all the detail work to look good. Even with a finer needle.”
“She knows what she wants now,” Cody interrupted.
Mikey closed his eyes and sighed. “Be with you in minute,” he threw over his shoulder.
“As I was saying. The tattoo will have to be larger if you want it to look good. Where you want it?” Mikey disliked how he sounded different at work. His grammar wasn't great to begin with, but in his shop, it got hella worse.
“I was thinking the inside of my arm. Right here.” Hipster showed him the place.
Mikey sensed Cody's eyes boring into the back of his skull. He held up an index finger indicating he needed a minute longer.
“Cool. I'll draw it up. Have to come in tomorrow, though. Got a couple appointments later. How's four PM?”
“All right. Four. Cool.”
“See ya.”
Mikey reluctantly pivoted. Cody was holding hands with Mary, except he looked uncomfortable with the arrangement. Mikey lifted his brows in question. “Did you kids sort it out?”
“Yes. She'd like my name on the inside of her wrist,” Cody said.
Would she?
Mikey thought not.
“Same script as Jennifer,” he said. Mary glared at him. Mikey nodded, ignoring the girl’s reaction. He went to get set up.
Mikey patted the tattooing chair. Mary sat down on the edge. “First time, darlin’?” She nodded. “I'll try to be gentle. But I'll warn you, wrists are sensitive.” He snapped on black latex gloves. “Latex allergy?” He took hold of her wrist and positioned it on the padded arm.
Mary shook her head. “What does it feel like?”
“Most say it's like a bee sting.” She jerked her arm back to her body. “Look, you don't have to do this.”
“She'll do it. Right, Mary?” Cody said warningly.
“Yea, it's fine. I'll…I'll do it.”
Mikey thought about arguing. He sighed instead. He could recommend a good dermatologist later when she came back wanting it removed. He transferred the lettering onto her wrist then reminded her to stay still while he worked. Mary tensed when the buzzing began. “Try and relax. First time is the worst. I think it's just the anticipation.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
Mikey
Cody paced behind Mary while Mikey worked on her wrist. He glanced at the asshole every couple of minutes and shook his head, hoping the he would get the hint to go stand someplace else, like outside. Down the block. To Mary’s credit she didn’t cry o
r whine. Wrists were one of the more sensitive locations to get tattooed. When Mikey finished the last letter, he had never been more grateful in his entire life.
“Let me clean you off,” Mikey told Mary as he put the tattoo gun down.
“O-okay.”
After wiping Mary's wrist, he looked up. The expression on Cody's face caught his attention for a moment. What was with this guy? Cody was an odd duck for sure, and there was no law against being strange, but this whole name tattoo shit felt off. Mikey focused his attention on smearing antiseptic ointment on her wrist and covering it with Saran-wrap.
“Leave the bandage on for about four hours or so.”
“Is that it?”
“Yep. After that just let it breathe. And here.” Mikey handed her a note with aftercare instructions.
“Thanks,” she said and took the paper with a coy, one-sided smile.
Cody narrowed his gaze on him. Normally, Mikey would walk his clients to the counter to pay, but Cody shoved a fifty-dollar bill at him. The men stared at each other.
“Can I help you with something?” Mikey asked.
Cody didn't respond.
Weirdo.
Another discomforting moment passed between them, and Mikey gave up trying to make sense of it all.
“Um…let's go, okay?” Mary urged her boyfriend.
“Yea,” Cody said without ending the stare down.
Mikey furrowed his brow. The guy's eyes raked over him and he shivered; he felt like tiny spiders had crawled up his spine. Cody gripped Mary's bicep in a possessive hold. He marched them past the new gap-mouthed receptionist, Mandy, and on out of the shop.
When they were gone Mikey turned to the latest receptionist. “Okay, that was bizarre. Cody paced during the whole session. Drove me nuts.”
“Yeah, that guy is a serious douche.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
Harry
Harry hated this part of town. Although impressive when newly built, most of the houses had dilapidated, caved in roofs and broken windows covered with plastic. Some had been converted into boarding houses then later reverted back to single family dwellings after World War II. Now the streets were lined with vacant homes and lots, occupied by people too poor to move on to better neighborhoods, and Cedric.