"Thanks, so do you," I said, and I meant it. Other than a gray leather jacket, Sarah was dressed to kill in a pretty pink blouse that made my mouth water and tight white jeans that greased my weasel.
"Thanks," she grinned. "You ready?"
I put my jacket on and undid my belt to accommodate the gun. "Now, I am."
"You always carry that?"
"The gun?"
"Yeah."
"Always."
"Hmmm," she grunted and shrugged dismissively, extending her hand. "Come on."
I took her hand with a little smile and happily let her lead me down the stairs. We hit the street and I was escorted to a little blue Camero. She even opened the door for me. Smart chick. She wanted me bad.
When she sat down behind the wheel, she cast a smile in my direction. "Ready?"
"Yep."
She pulled away from the curb and sped off down the street. "How long were you in the Army, Maddie?"
"A little over six years."
"Why did you get out?"
"I realized they wouldn't let me fly forever."
"Did you have one of those cool nicknames?"
"Huh?"
"You know, like Iceman or Maverick?"
"Oh. Yeah, I did."
She waited a few seconds and then turned a look on me. "Well?"
"Well, what?"
Eyes rolled. "Well, what was your nickname?"
I grinned. "What do you think it was?"
"I dunno. Hot pants?"
"Would've been fitting, but no."
A chuckle. "Just tell me."
"Maddie."
"Maddie?"
"Yep."
"Humph. Ya hungry?"
"Yeah. Haven't had anything all day."
She shot me a wink. "Well then, we'll have to get you filled up."
Sweet Jeebus. It was at times like these that I truly wished I were easy. I'd like to be a slut. One look at Sarah and I really wanted to be a slut. I don't know where I picked it up and if I did, I'd take it back, but I'd never been able to jump right into the sack with someone I just met. I didn't want every woman, just the right one. Was Sarah the right one? Was Anabel? I sure as hell hoped one of them was because I didn't relish the idea of growing old with Stephanie. Maybe I was just a romantic at heart.
"You still with me?"
"Huh?" I asked, looking up to see her gazing at me amusedly. "Sorry, I was just thinking."
"What about?"
"Potatoes."
She snickered. "What?"
"I was thinking I had a craving for potatoes."
----------
Dinner was an entertaining and in some ways, enlightening affair. Sarah was great. She was smart, funny, and incredibly alluring. I had a moment of incredible weakness when she excused herself to go powder her nose and I got to watch her walk away in those fantastic jeans. If she had returned to the table with a carrot and asked me to eat it out of her ass, I probably would've dropped to my knees immediately and ordered her to bend over.
Fortunately, she didn't make any such request and I eventually regained my bearings. However, she dropped enough hints over the course of the evening to make it quite obvious what she wanted. That want was me and well, who could blame her? She thought I was wonderful and I couldn't help but agree.
She also wasn't the bleeding heart I was afraid she might be. She had a head on her shoulders that could be admired for more than just a pretty face. Her halfway house was only one of several successful business ventures. She'd made her money and had decided to give a little back to those less fortunate. In my view, there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.
"Do you want desert?" she asked.
My mind instantly blazed down the path that led to my groin, but I think I recovered nicely. "Sure."
"Want to have it here or at my place?"
There it was. The question I'd been dreading all evening. Oh, how I wanted to go. She turned me on in such a way that I'd probably come the second I stood from my chair. It wasn't just physical; I liked her. I liked her a lot. She obviously liked me so what was the problem? Say yes! Say yes! I was fucking hopeless. Something, something irritating and persistent, emanating from deep down inside, prompted me to open my mouth and decline.
"As much as I know I would like that, I'm afraid it's just a little too soon for me," I said apologetically.
Her disappointment was obvious, but she rallied. "That's not the answer I wanted but it's the one I pretty much expected."
"It was?"
"Yeah," she said with a little grin.
"Why?" I asked, leaning forward in my chair, extremely interested in her answer.
"Because I've hit on you all night and there were a couple of times you seemed to struggle with it."
I saw where this was headed and jumped to put a stop to it. "It's not you. Believe me. It's not you at all."
She grunted. "So if I were to take that at face value and ask you out again, you'd say yes?"
"In a heartbeat."
She leaned back in her chair and beamed a playful smile. "Let me think about that over dessert."
I giggled. "Please do."
We ordered our sweets and fell back into a friendly chatter. Each trying to learn as much we could about the other. I was really hoping that she would ask me out a second time, although I had to admit that if shoe was another foot, I myself probably wouldn't. I felt like a fool and castigated myself for turning her down. It wasn't the first time in my life I'd gotten such an offer and I've always said no. Why? For the life of me I wish I knew. It was a topic I struggled with often, and it seemed I was no closer to an answer than I'd been a decade ago.
Dessert gave way to drinks and we bantered back and forth until the alcohol was abandoned in favor of coffee. I was disappointed when the evening began to approach its conclusion. I couldn't remember the last time I had enjoyed a date so thoroughly. I wanted kiss her. I mean I really wanted to kiss her. I became so obsessed with the desire that I had trouble thinking about anything else.
However, it occurred to me in the car that she still hadn't extended an invitation to get together again. Worriedly, I looked out the window to take in my surroundings and was disenchanted to discover we were only a matter of minutes away from my place. Should I ask her or should I hang tough and see what happens? I was still debating the question when she pulled up to the curb and stopped. It was the moment of truth.
"Want me to walk you up?" she asked.
"Yes."
She got out of the car and started to walk around so I hurried out of my seat to join her. I was afraid she might open my door for me and I didn't want to play the princess. I was offered a hand and I took it.
We walked up the stairs in a companionable silence and when we reached the top she turned suddenly to face me. I hoped my nervousness wasn't showing.
"I'd like to see you again, Maddie."
A wave of relief. "I'd like to see you too. I had a great time."
"So did I."
I offered a nervous smile and she giggled. "I'd really like to kiss you."
My knees almost buckled. "You read my mind."
She closed in shyly and placed hands on my waist. I couldn't wait and leaned forward to meet her. I met lips that aroused me powerfully and was welcomed by arms that moved to encircle me tightly. I think I may have whimpered when her breasts pressed into mine and I know I gasped when the hands on my back dropped to my ass. When she captured my tongue and sucked it on it softly, I almost collapsed. Another few seconds and I wouldn't have the willpower to stop so I carefully started to back away. To my relief, and to my disappointment, she let me.
When we disengaged she kept her eyes closed and licked her lips so seductively that I had to lean back to steady myself on the door behind me.
"You taste wonderful, Maddie," she whispered.
"So, so do you."
"I'd like to do that again."
"I'd better not."
"You sure?"
"No. And that's why I b
etter not."
She chuckled. "Can I call you? Soon?"
"Yes."
"Then I will," she said with a determined nod, leaning in quickly to peck me on the cheek. "Goodnight, Maddie."
"Bye, Sarah," I rasped, unable to look away and torturing myself as I watched her walk back down the steps. She stopped in front of her car and gave me a little wave that I returned robotically.
After she drove off, it took me a few minutes to get my shit together, but when I did, I quickly fumbled for the keys in my pocket. I burst through the door and made a beeline for the bedroom. Stephanie needed me. Needed me in the worst way.
----------
That night, I dreamed about Gus. A memory I hadn't thought about in years.
The public school system was a far cry from what I was previously accustomed to. The size, diversity, and freedom easily allowing a greater opportunity to practice the ignorant cruelty that children often engage in. Not that I wasn't guilty of it myself on occasion, but like everybody, it was an eye opener when it was directed squarely at you.
I was a bit of a tomboy and had an accent when I was younger that easily singled me out of a crowd. Those two reasons alone guaranteed my exclusion from any of the popular cliques. There was also the fact that Gus and Joey didn't really buy into the whole private school idea so Sophie and I had the added bonus of being kids the other children's parents had told them to avoid. When Sophie and I weren't joined at the hip, I was mostly a loner, and to be honest, that suited me just fine.
Now, I've previously denied being a bigot, but if there's one class or culture of people that I'm truly prejudiced against, it's rednecks. Fortunately, your typical redneck tends to avoid your large metropolitan areas and for that, we can all be thankful. I personally think they realize that they wouldn't survive very long in a city, they wouldn't be tolerated and they're just smart enough to know it. Well that, and I'm sure they'd miss molesting their cousins, farm animals, and whatever else they might have a hankering for.
I could go on for hours, and in great detail, illustrating exactly why rednecks are the most useless bags of skin inhabiting the planet, but odds are, most people already know this and I'd be wasting my time. Even bikers hate them and that speaks for itself.
Jesse Wayne Harper stood out like a turd in a public swimming pool. Fourteen years old and the proud owner of an evil smile devoid of dental hygiene, he combed his hair with buttered toast and clothed himself as if he desired to be Willie Nelson's dirty laundry. Every pair of jeans he owned had a faded little circle on the back pocket created from carrying around a can of dip. He was a vicious little prick and he went out of his way to advertise it.
My run in with Jesse Wayne took place just off campus. Apparently, he had seen Sophie and I eating lunch together that afternoon. When we parted ways, I pecked her on the cheek. It was nothing out of the ordinary, we were best friends and if I hadn't have done it, she would have. Jesse Wayne took exception and intercepted me after school on the sidewalk with his pathetic little slag. I listened to his venom with an irate ear, trying my best to get through the situation without a brouhaha. I'd had my share of mishaps and I knew if Gus had to come down to the school again because I was in trouble, there'd be hell to pay.
I suspected then that I preferred girls over boys, but I'd never been confronted with the hateful and disgusting comments that Jesse appeared to be taking great pleasure in spewing forth. Surprisingly, I endured it all, snapping only when his commentary switched from me and targeted Sophie.
In a fit of temper, I lunged forward and pushed him as hard as I could, hoping he would fall down so I might escape. He was much larger than I was and my assault only managed to make him collide with his girlfriend. She fell down and before I could get away he grabbed me by the hair and hit me so hard that I too, ended up on the ground. I'd never been hit before and I was stunned. Terrified at how badly it hurt, I immediately burst into tears. When he turned to his girlfriend, I lurched to my feet and managed to push him over as he bent to help her up. He rose with a red face so I did the only thing I could. I ran. I ran for six blocks with him in pursuit. Finally, I flew into Joey's shop scared to death and gasping for air. Jesse Wayne wisely chose not to pursue me inside.
Joey wasn't there at the time so one of the guys called Gus to come and get me. He arrived not ten minutes later with a look on his face that just plain scared the hell out of me. I guess he could see that I was frightened, so he smiled and I rushed over to be engulfed in his arms. Once we got in the car, I blubbered out the whole story. Repeating everything Jesse Wayne had said and done. By the time I was finished, you could easily see dangerous black thunderclouds brewing overhead.
When we arrived at home, he directed me to a chair in the living room and disappeared into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a washcloth and a baggie of ice, taking a seat on the coffee table in front of me to gently wipe away my tears.
"Maddie, what's right for you may not be right for other people," he said softly. "If they have a problem with that, it's their problem, not yours." He reached out to tap me on the chest. "You follow your heart wherever it leads and you'll never be sorry."
It took me a while to understand what he was getting at. Gus's sensitive conversations were very few and far between.
"Wha, what if he was right?" I finally asked.
"Nothing that came out of that little bastard's mouth was right, Maddie," he growled. "But if you're asking me what I would think if you wanted a girlfriend instead of a boyfriend, I'll tell you."
It took every bit of courage I had to nod my head.
"As long as you were happy, I wouldn't give two shits one way or the other."
I grinned bashfully and he placed the icepack on my cheek.
"Now, you hold that there while I make a call, okay?"
"Okay."
He vanished and Joey arrived not long after. They spent a little while talking out on the porch and then Gus came back inside to fix us dinner. That minute of conversation on the subject of my sexuality was the only time it was ever discussed. In all the years that followed, he never gave me the slightest reason to think that he hadn't meant exactly what he said.
As for Jesse Wayne, well, he never came back to school. A few years later, I learned that the Harper family had received a visit from the goodfellas. Apparently, the gents weren't too fond of rednecks either. They advised the parents that it would be in their best interest to leave town and return to whatever shithole they crawled out of. They also left Jesse Wayne with eight broken fingers and two broken thumbs.
As far as I know. Nobody misses them.
After waking, I lounged in bed for almost an hour thinking about things. Had Gus unmasked Sabrina DiCarlo? She was the only real suspect. I couldn't see a motive anywhere else. Of course, the murder could've been perpetrated by anyone, it didn't have to point to any of the people Gus had over that night. However, my gut told me it did. Someone at the party knew something they weren't telling me. Perhaps, one of them was even the triggerman. But who and why?
The Franks? I doubted it. They were genuinely surprised by the news of Gus's death and were smart enough to realize that messing with him held repercussions. They had nothing to gain and too much to lose. I couldn't figure them for it.
Sarah? That seemed preposterous.
Joey? Gimme a break.
Anabel? That was just ludicrous.
The Binkowskis? I narrowed my eyes. They had lied to me, whether they realized it or not. I leaned toward not. They didn't know they were lying and were just telling me what they thought they knew. However, Sidney had dealt with Sabrina personally. That fact alone required that I visit him again. Then there was Tish. She was about as real as professional wrestling. She merited looking into.
Sabrina DiCarlo? She was the only person that had any semblance of a motive. Sabrina was marked for death. Everyone who knew Gus also knew he was close to the family and old man Sirico had a vendetta to finish. Would she whack Gus to pr
otect herself? A good question. A person who held the kind of power Sabrina did, could probably remove Sirico himself if it came down to it. With that in mind, why hadn't she?
I needed more information and it was time to get moving so I rolled out of bed and made tracks for the bathroom.
V
Once I was ready to start my day, the first order of business was to give Billy a call. He had already assembled the files on DiCarlo and I asked him to get what he could for me on Tish Binkowski. He agreed and we made arrangements to meet for breakfast.
When I walked into the little diner he favored, he was already seated and waiting for me in his usual booth. He shot me a grin and waved me over.
"Well, well," he said as I sat down. "Someone's all prettied up today."
I rolled my eyes. "You're imagining things."
"I don't think so. I can't remember the last time I saw you with a bow in your hair," he drawled happily.
"Give it a rest, Billy."
He leaned forward conspiratorially. "Not 'til you give me something to chew on. You got a date?"
"I tied my hair back with a bow and this leads you to believe I have a date?"
"Uh huh."
"Why?"
"Just a hunch."
I shook my head, but he wouldn't let it go. "Well? Do you have a date?"
I sighed. "Yes. If you must know."
"I must. With Anabel?"
I nodded reluctantly and he chortled, fumbling his cell phone out of a pocket excitedly.
"What are you doing?"
"I gotta call Joey."
I reached out and swiped the phone out of his hand. "Jesus, you're worse than an old bitty. Can't you at least wait until I'm gone?"
He laughed and fell back in his seat. "Oh, alright."
"Gee, thanks," I said sarcastically, getting a snicker in return.
He waved to the waitress and I ordered coffee and a bagel. When she left, he pulled a file from his briefcase and tossed it on the table.
"That's what we have on Tish Binkowski."
I nodded and picked up the folder, surprised to see an official copy. "What's this? You could get in trouble for giving this to me."
"Porter came to see me after you left yesterday."
Stories by Kiera Dellacroix Page 84