by Larsen, K.
I don’t know if I want to shake the answers from her or hold her close until she's ready to tell me herself. Her being here in bed with me, it messes with me so friggin’ badly. I’m the hard ass. The asshole. I’m the one who does horrible things to other people. I don’t find joy in it. I don't like it, but it’s my job, and I do what I’m supposed to. But with Mags, shit, with Mags it was always different. I was always different. She made me a better person, inside and out. The last year I’ve felt nothing but lost and like I’m just numbly floating through my own life. Then the moment I found her something came back. A spark. Feeling. She’s a need, like an addiction. I need her to survive and to get out and to be a worthwhile human being.
“How’d you find me?” she finally mumbles.
“The P.O. boxes. I found them all,” I inform her. “Thank you very much by the way for the wild goose chase there. I finally hired a shithead punk to hack the account online that you set them up through, and your IP address showed up in Arkansas. It still took me a while to find your exact location, not to mention that, when I got to the area, I was still looking for Cypress. It was luck really. I stopped at the bar for a drink, and saw you.”
“The cypress branch night...” she says realizing.
“Before that. I watched you for a good month after I first saw you,” I admit sheepishly. She gasps and nuzzles her face into my chest again.
“I never meant to shoot you. It wasn’t supposed to be you...” Her voice breaks and I wrap her up in my arms tightly.
“Then who, Mags?” She shakes her head no but says nothing else. What the hell isn’t she telling me? Irritation bubbles in my gut but I know it won’t help right now. I push it down until I can’t feel it anymore.
“Okay, well then where the hell is my bike?” I retort, trying to lighten the mood. She snickers into the wall of my chest.
“At my trailer.” Her voice is muffled from the way she's face-planted into me.
“What?! Seriously?” I croak at her, pulling away to see her face.
“Yup. Right out back under the tarp,” she says smartly.
“Damn. I loved that bike.” I let out on a breath.
“Why haven’t you asked?” she pipes up.
“About?”
“The money, Cane. The bike wasn’t the only thing I took,” she says seriously.
“It was never about the money to me. Ezra seems more concerned about recovering the backpack, to be honest.”
“That ratty black pile of thread?” She quirks an eyebrow.
“Yeah. Maybe just because the money was in it.” I shrug. I have no idea why the money is so important. Ezra makes hand over fist and it was chump change in his book. He wanted it all recovered. The money, the pack. And he wanted Cypress gone.
“You really don’t want to know?” she asks quizzically. I can’t help but notice all the little changes in her. Her eyes are harder. Her demeanor is armored. Her light is gone. She’s still stunning. She’s still in there - somewhere. And it's becoming more and more clear that I’m the reason it’s all changed. That because of my life, because I involved her in it, I stole all the very best parts of her. I push all the morbid thoughts from my mind and focus on her battered yet beautiful face.
“What? About the money?” I chuckle.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s a lot,” she says pointedly.
“It is. There is a lot more than that though. There’s always more money to be had.” I sigh. She stares at me hard. It makes me uncomfortable and nervous. I’m never one to fidget under pressure but Magnolia makes me someone I never thought I could be. It’s her allure.
“Okay.” She rests her head at my shoulder, tracing tiny shapes along my torso until I pull the blankets over us and she drifts off to sleep. I’m fighting sleep tonight. It feels like this is all too good to be true. Like a dream. I'm terrified to wake up in the morning and have her be gone.
Chapter 17
“I think…if it is true that there are as many minds as there are heads, then there are as many kinds of love as there are hearts.”- Leo Tolstoy
Her long black hair swished behind her as she walked across the street. I followed behind a few steps just to watch the sway of her hips and that ridiculous swish of her hair. She paused and looked over her shoulder curiously at me.
“What are you up to?” she laughed.
“Enjoying the view.” She’d snorted and kept right on walking. I ran to catch up with her. Tagging her hand I’d pulled her close to my side and kissed the spot behind her ear lightly.
“You about ready, love?” She’d looked up into my eyes and smiled that bright, easy smile that seemed reserved only for the people in her life that she loved the most. Aster, her parents and me. No one else got that ear-to-ear grin out of her. Every time it happened, even three years later, I felt like I was king of the world for drawing it out of her.
“I really wish I knew where you were taking me.” She sighed. I stopped her and turned her to face me.
“Trust me, baby?” I asked with a grin.
“Of course,” she’d replied instantly. I turned her back to my front and covered her eyes with one hand.
“Uh. Cane?” she’d spoken softly.
“Trust me.” She’d nodded slightly. I walked her up the porch steps of the building we were stopped in front of and carefully opened the door and led her inside.
“Step up,” I’d instructed.
“I really don’t want to trip,” she’d complained.
“I won’t let you.” Her sigh had been loud and irritated but I knew it’d be worth it in the end. “Another step,” I whispered in her ear. Goose bumps broke out down her arms. I loved that I still had that effect on her. Eight more steps and we were at the landing in front of the door. I dug into my pocket and pulled out the key to our new place. Careful to keep a hand on her eyes, I’d unlocked the door and led her inside the entryway.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes,” she’d breathed, lifting her fingers to the hand covering her eyes. I let her pull my hand away. She’d looked around and taken a tentative step further into the living room.
“What is this?” she turned and asked.
“Our house,” I’d stated simply.
“Our house?” she’d parroted back, head cocked to the left.
“Yeah. My girl doesn't like being away from me, so I got us this,” I’d said, splaying my arms wide gesturing to the small one bedroom apartment.
“This is ours?” she’d whispered wide-eyed, bringing her hands to her lips in shock.
“Ours. I love you, Mags. I want to live together.” She’d squealed and leapt into my arms. I caught her with ease and let her strangle me in a hug.
“I love you so hard, Cane Ash,” she’d murmured at my lips before devouring them. And even though we didn't have a stitch of furniture in the apartment, I’d taken her on the floor, christening the living room right then and there. “Forever,” I’d whispered into her ear as I came.
“Forever, Cane.” Two simple words mumbled quietly to me had made me feel like my chest exploded in my rib cage. I knew right then, there was never a question of me and Mags. We were destined to be together and I’d do anything to keep her happy and safe. Two words mended my soul, changed me forever.
I wake early, before the sun's fully up, to her soft puffs of breath on my neck and our limbs tangled and naked. My face is screaming with pain from Mags' punch, but I’m hard just at the feel of her in bed with me. The swelling in her face has gone down so much that the bruised coloring now just looks like face paint gone wrong. Tugging softly on her chin, I pull her gaze to mine. She presses her breasts upward, all sleepy-eyed, and smiles. The sensation of her soft breasts on my chest makes my nipples harden. She’s still soft under all that hard, she's still my soft girl. I playfully nip at her earlobe and feel my dick twitch at the way she responds to my touches. I kiss down her body until I’m at the apex of her thighs. Her eyes are still half-mast from sleep and pleasure. I need to taste her. I move my m
outh on her clit, my tongue licking the length of her before I suck on it again. She moans, her voice sandy-sounding, heavy with grit from not fully waking yet. Her nipples are pebbled and she starts panting, desperately needing more. Needing a release. I move up over her and glide myself into her drenched entrance to give it to her.
“If you're going to sing, I'll put you in the trunk and drive myself,” I mock-growl at her. She’s been singing along to the radio for the past two hours and my head feels like it’s going to explode. My eyes are too swollen to see well while driving so I’d given her the keys. She cackles at me and turns down the music.
“Your head killing you, too?” she chirps contentedly.
“It’d be fine if you weren’t at it,” I groan.
“Shut up. I’m not that bad!” she whines, wrinkling her nose. My eyes try to widen, but they’re too swollen from my broken nose to open much. She starts giggling.
“Yeah, OK. I am,” she admits laughing. “So what’s there to do in Lexington anyways?” she asks, focusing on the road ahead.
“Uh...maybe they have horses?” I offer.
“Horses?”
“Yeah,” I state. “What’s wrong with horses?”
“You want to go see horses...” she states rather than questions.
“Nah, not really. I just don’t know what else is there.” I chuckle. She smiles and giggles a little.
“Well we can’t exactly wander around with matching black eyes,” she jests.
“Right. Well there’s always a hotel and room service.” I try to wink but groan when it hurts and I drop my head into my hands.
“Serves you right, you know,” she laughs at me.
“How’s that?” I glower at her.
“You punched me in the face, I returned the favor. Now we’re even,” she says as if it's commonplace.
“Gee, thanks. You know, you’re not at all like you were. What happened to the Magnolia who babied me when I stubbed a toe? I like that one better,” I grumble.
“Oh, well that’s funny, I liked the Cane that didn’t attack and assault his girlfriend,” she volleys back, eyes narrowing at me.
“Touché,” I mumble feeling sick to my stomach. Her hand reaches out to my thigh and rests there, palm up. I stare at it, knowing the seemingly small gesture means a lot. I place my hand in hers and thread my fingers through her small narrow ones and smile at her.
Our drive is boring and long but when we finally pull into the hotel I feel at ease knowing that for another night we’re together and safe.
“I have to pee so badly.” She squirms, trying to unbuckle herself quickly. I reach out and poke her side causing her to squeal and squirm some more.
“Cane! NO! I’ll pee!” I grin and poke her again, wiggling my finger in her side. She bursts out laughing and crosses her legs together. The valet rounds the car waiting for us to exit, but I don’t care. I love the sound of her laugh. I jab her again making her jump.
“Ohhhh...” she moans and stops moving. Her face turns to mine and is etched with horror.
“What?” I ask. Silence. “What is it?” She moves her hands from her lap, revealing a large wet spot and smacks my shoulder hard.
“Holy shit! You peed in my car!?” I squawk. Her face pales and she draws her lips into each other.
“I told you I had to go, Cane!” she whines. The valet taps the window, making us both jump.
“Oh. My. God. We can’t let him park the car!” she squeals at me.
“You peed your pants,” I state. I have never seen Magnolia look this embarrassed before. It’s endearing really.
“Shhhh!” she whispers. She reaches into the back seat, grabs a shirt and shifts it around her middle, tying it at her waist. Then, she grabs the handle of the door and gets out. The seat is wet with pee but it looks as though she’s not going to sop it up. I jump out of the car as she hands the keys to the valet and quickly rounds the car. She tugs my arm to follow her. “Hurry,” she laughs, dragging me with her into the lobby. Neither one of us looks back to check on the valet.
*****
“The brass plate embedded in the sidewalk at the corner of Limestone and Main Street- right up there,” she points, “is a memorial marker honoring Smiley Pete. The animal was known as the town dog in Lexington. He died in 1957.” She pouts and makes her eyes wide. “How adorable is that?”
“You are a sucker.” I nudge her playfully in the shoulder as we approach the memorial. She'd found a walking tour book in the lobby, after she’d cleaned up and decided that we were going to aimlessly walk around and teach ourselves a little about the city. She’d also brought back a KY ball cap for me, supposedly to help hide my face some. I’d laughed and told her that I’d never had a KY hat before, never needed it. My joke had fallen flat but she still rewarded me with a quick round in the bedroom before we left.
Goodfella’s Pizzeria isn’t quite busy yet, being just in between lunch and dinnertime and it’s nice to have the place mostly to ourselves. She gets the Joe Pesci and I order an Al Pacino and we indulge until we’re both stuffed and groaning.
“You need to use the bathroom before we go?” I ask.
“No.”
“You sure?” I push.
“I’m fine,” she returns, cocking her head at me slightly.
“Maybe you should go try anyways. We don’t want another accident,” I scold. The couple that’s just sitting down near us looks over covertly and snickers. Her eyes widen before narrowing at me.
“You didn’t complain about me peeing all over you in bed last night,” she winks before pushing up on her tiptoes, and kisses me passionately for show before stalking past me out onto the city street. The woman at the table nearest has her jaw hanging open but her eyes averted, and the dude with her is full on laughing. Head hung and shoulders slumped, I slink out of the pizzeria.
“Very funny,” I snip at Magnolia who is waiting for me on the sidewalk, laughing her ass off.
“Sorry,” she laughs, “it was really funny though.” She tries to hold her giggle in but can't and doubles over. Once she gets herself under control she straightens and apologizes for laughing at me. I razz her a little but accept the apology. She one-upped me really so I couldn't be mad.
“Cane...” She stops abruptly and pulls me to halt with her. “Look.” She points ahead, wide-eyed. Up ahead is an Old Kentucky Chocolates store. Her eyes come to mine and silently plead for permission to go in. I know she could probably spend an hour in there sampling everything and spending all my money. She always had a soft spot for dessert.
“Alright.” I smile at her. “My girl likes sweets, so let’s go.” I grin at her. Her feet start moving before I’m finished talking and we’re moving double-time towards the store.
We spent a solid forty -five minutes inside and leave forty-dollars poorer. She is currently walking along side me with her nose in the walking guide while I tote the enormous bag of chocolate-covered potato chips, chocolate-covered Oreos, and other treats she just had to have. “Thursday Night Live - Cheapside Park from 4:30pm - 7:30pm for beverages, tasty food and of course, great music by live band Better off Dead. We should go!”
“Sure.” I really don’t care what we do next. I’m content exploring the city on our own and just being near her.
“Google it, so we know how far it is from here,” she directs.
“On what?”
“Your phone,” she quips. I pull my phone from my pocket and show her the cheap burner phone. “Oh.” She veers off the sidewalk and into a store. I wait outside for her not wanting to draw too much attention to our matching busted faces. She pushes through the glass door a few minutes later. “We’re like half a mile away!” Her entire face is lit up like it's Christmas morning and she just got the gift of her dreams. I’d always wondered if that would be the face I got when I proposed, but I never got the chance. “And, get this! An eighties cover band is playing tonight!” I chuckle at her exuberance and take her hand in mine and swing her into my
side before placing a light kiss below her ear. “I could have guessed that from the name of the band, babe.”
“Oh, yeah, probably,” she chuckles. I watch as her hair swishes behind her, leaving her scent in the air. I love the smell of her. Sweet and flowery with a hint of honeysuckle. Her hips swing back and forth and the muscles in her legs flex with each graceful step. She looks back over her shoulder at me and smiles brightly. It reaches her eyes and it makes my chest flood with warmth.
“What?” she asks playfully.
“Just enjoying the view,” I call out.
“The last time you said that you covered my eyes and asked if I trusted you...” she states, lost in memory. I grab her hand and twine our fingers together. The way she’s standing looking at me, it’s as if her body’s a gun, her mouth the trigger and I’m destined to be shot all over again. I lean in until we’re a breath apart from each other’s mouths. “Trust me?” Her nod is almost imperceptible but it’s there. Her lips push into mine. Silky, sweet and warm. Her fingers toy with the hair at the nape of my neck as she massages my lips with hers. I pull back and she mewls at me for breaking the kiss. It’s the most endearing sound I’ve ever heard leave her mouth.
“Marry me,” I say seriously.
“What?!” she chuckles.
“I’m serious, Mags. Marry me.” I back up from her just slightly. I reach into the pocket of my pants and pull out the engagement ring I bought for her over a year ago, the ring I watched her throw into the neighboring trailer’s yard and the ring I’d spent an hour trying to recover. I bring it up between us and drop to one knee. “Magnolia Ash, I have never been able to love anyone the way I love you. I will never be able to be as good as I am right now with anyone else. You’re my soul, baby, you own me.” Her eyes soften and fill with tears. “There’s so much static in the world...people vying for attention, noises, voices, they all get in the way in here.” I knock on my head. “When I see you, when I’m with you - all that noise fades away. I can breathe. I can just be.” I reach for her left hand and hold the ring to the end of her ring finger. “Say something,” I plead. She drops to her knees so we’re face to face and looks deep into my eyes, searching for something. It kills me to see her this confused and unsure. She presses her lips to mine softly before looking down where my hand still holds hers.