by K. S. Adkins
“That’s a fuck no!”
Releasing her arms, she rubs her wrists but stays quiet for a moment. Then whispering, “It was worth a shot.” she walks around me in favor of her bedroom and closes the door behind her. As for me, I sat on her deck for hours at a total loss. Then, when my eyes got heavy, I slept on her couch after cleaning up the mess she made earlier. The bitch wasn’t killing herself on my watch.
Ah Christ, who am I kidding? She wasn’t a bitch and she didn’t want to be alone any more than I did. I just needed to be where she was because her sorrow was a God damn magnet for me. Turns out it was a good thing too, because morning came and it wasn’t a good one but, I refused to let it stay a bad one.
Reliving that night is a horror that never leaves me. Some nights my dreams begin with a fond memory but they always end the same way. With me sitting at my desk, wrapping up paperwork and telling Alan I’d meet them at Maccabee’s because I had to work. We were to have dinner at seven to celebrate my parents’ anniversary. Alan worked a half day and picked Indie up from daycare to dress and feed her prior to. He did this often because I had a tendency to get too involved in my work, which always ran us late. I was so focused on my deal that I had lost track of time, again. When my phone rang, absently I answered it knowing I was going to get teased for losing hours like always. Except, that didn’t happen this time.
What happened was a trooper told me that I needed to get to Henry Ford hospital, that there had been an accident. He provided no further details, except that time was of the essence. Deal forgotten; I drove with purpose to the hospital, not understanding the magnitude of the situation. Entering through emergency, I gave my name and was immediately escorted back by two nurses, one police officer and a counselor. Of course, I didn’t know she was a counselor at the time but it didn’t take long to figure out why she was there. Literally being escorted from room to room the staff didn’t know where to take me first. My mind was so far gone, where they went I followed. At 8:04 pm my mother was pronounced dead. At 8:19 my father, at 8:42 my husband and at 8:59 my daughter.
Indie my little fighter held on the longest, like she’d been waiting for me to get there. When she was born she was placed in my arms and she died that way too, with me holding her. There was something poetic about that but for the life of me I just didn’t know what that was. All I knew was that in one hour, I lost it all to a teenage drunk driver.
Death itself is hard enough. Remembering how a loved one looked when they died was even harder because that’s how you remember them. My parents’ bodies were ravaged, being in the front seats. Alan suffered a severe head injury when his head went through the window; but my daughter… Indie didn’t have a scratch on her, she simply looked asleep. The three of them ‘looked’ like they were in an accident, she did not. For hours I held her waiting for her to wake up.
She didn’t wake up.
The counselor literally had to pry her out of my arms. To her credit, she tried reasoning with me but I refused to listen. I needed her to shut up so Indie could rest. My daughter had so much life in her she didn’t sleep as much as she should. She needed to sleep.
The second the woman touched me I lost it. Taking Indie with me, I kicked the shit out of her until two men managed to restrain me. Then the room flooded with staff and in that moment I would have killed them all had I known how. There was one doctor she was young like me. She called them off, told them to give me time and stayed with me. She said we were safe with her, and we were. But those bastards eventually came back. Why did they keep trying to take her from me? She’s my daughter God dammit, let her sleep!
“Shh,” I hear from a distance, “It’s okay.”
Refusing to acknowledge the sound, I struggle to regulate my breathing. But then the voice is there again, followed by a soft touch and despite the circumstances it eased me. “Open your eyes for me, Bet,” he urges me, “I got you.”
Slowly opening them, I feel both of his hands on either side of my face and when I can focus my eyes I can see the concern in his.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, “Was I loud?”
“No, babe,” he whispers back, “I was nearby.”
“I think you should go,” I tell him sitting up and wanting my space, “I’ll be okay now.”
“You asked me to kill you last night,” he says very matter of fact. “You ain’t okay. You and me are spending the day together, you came here for something, right? Tell me what it is and we’ll go do it.”
“I came here to make a decision,” I admit looking for blankets to eliminate the chill, “But I don’t think I’m strong enough to do it myself.”
“You ain’t gonna do that holed up in a hot room,” he says stealing the blanket back, “You came to find answers but found me instead. Gotta tell ya, it’s your lucky day. I mean really Bet, it could be worse.”
“How so?”
“You could be ugly.”
I couldn’t help it, I started to laugh. Glancing up at him I can’t help but appreciate his humor during a humorless time. This was a man that was always sure of himself. Yet I was a woman who wasn’t sure of anything, especially when it came to why I’m still here.
“That a girl,” he says kissing my forehead. Just that simple gesture turns my laughter to tears. Tenderness wasn’t an emotion that I’ve felt in six long years and I wasn’t sure how to handle it now. Who knew a stranger kissing my forehead would reduce me to a heap of tears? “Whoa now, none of that. Your girl would have been eight today, right? I don’t know shit about kids. What do you get an eight year old for her for birthday?”
“I don’t know, Rio,” I whisper, “Probably anything she wanted.”
“Let’s get our bikes, head into town and grab your girl some birthday shit.”
“What---”
“I wasn’t asking,” he says pulling me straight out of bed and standing me up. “You got ten minutes. I’d start with brushing those teeth.”
When he leaves I stand there completely uncertain. First, I couldn’t believe I was functioning. Second, I couldn’t believe I was getting dressed but mostly… I couldn’t believe I was looking forward to it. Before my time was up, I ran into the bathroom and brushed my teeth twice.
Two hours later, we had managed to hit almost every shop and I had only side-swiped one person with my bike. Now we were eating lunch at the Pink Pony, side by side. In my back pack were gifts I thought any eight year old would love, but mainly I knew mine would have. Indie may have only been a toddler but she had the eyes of someone who had been here before. My daughter was an old soul, like my mother. Thinking of what life would be like if I’d made dinner at home that night or picked Indie up as planned, always stays with me. Though I can’t change the past, I’m not convinced I have much in store for the future. That thought brings me full circle to the wolf in sheep’s clothing eating a burger like it’s his last meal.
Here we sit together yet we didn’t say much at all, he was a stranger and I was a mess. Although I was grateful for what he did for me today, I knew it was because he felt sorry for me. Since that night, anyone’s that approached me their first words were always, “I’m sorry for your loss.” Maybe they were sorry for my loss, I was just sorry I wasn’t in the car too.
Guilt assaulted me when I hadn’t considered his reasons for being here with me. I was selfish and I was dragging him down in my misery. When people say misery loves company, they mean it. You want to spread it, let others know that you’re suffering and you want to lash out that they aren’t miserable too. For some strange reason he took the edge off my annual pity party but what did I know? I tuned out humanity years ago. More than that, when it came to people I was out of touch. I no longer knew how to relate with them on a personal level, I simply didn’t want to. I allowed myself two days a year to fall apart, just two. Tomorrow I would put the walls back up and shove on until I end things but he doesn’t know that.
“Rio,” I start, “I wanted to say thank you for the last two days.”
; “It’s no---”
“Please,” I ask setting my drink down, “Let me finish.” When he nods I do. “I used to be fun, believe it or not. But life has a way of sucking the fun out of you, I guess. Normally, for these two days I drink myself pretty much unconscious. But this year I tried something different. I tried facing it. It’s obvious though, without you that wouldn’t have happened. As much as I enjoy your company, the kiss I forced on you, and the offer I had no right making, you came here for your own reasons. Please accept my apology for ruining your trip. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”
“Glad you asked,” he says smiling. As far as smiles go, his is sinister and charming all at once and I responded to it. “Need you to have dinner with me tonight, in public with you in a dress.”
“Are you hard of hearing? I was letting you off the hook. You know I’m fucked up, why would you even ask?”
“’Cause I bet you could make hearts stop in a dress.”
“Oh,” I mumble, “I uh---”
“Got visions of you in a dress,” he says staring at me, totally unaware of how off-kilter I’m feeling. “Probably don’t even need the dress since my heart stops every time you look at me.”
“Rio---”
“Fuck,” he laughs despite my resistance. “You wear a dress for me; I’d probably drop dead with a smile on my face.”
“I don’t get you. You want to go on a date with me?”
“I think you’re quicker when you drink,” he says taking my hand and kissing my inner wrist. No one has ever kissed my wrist before and I melted. “Fuck yeah, I wanna go on a date with you.”
“I don’t understand why?” I insist.
“Put the fucking dress on and find out.”
Now I’ve been asked out before. Granted, in the past I’ve always said no or played the widow card and men quickly backed off. But Rio isn’t asking me out, he’s telling me out. No one tells me to do anything and I should be furious that’s he’s doing it right now. Still the words are stuck. Why won’t my mouth work? No. It’s a simple word. Say it, Bet.
But I didn’t say it.
I nodded my agreement instead.
The woman was having a meltdown.
These walls are paper thin. I can hear her pacing, swearing and tossing shit around the room. No doubt my challenge was freaking her out. She wasn’t one to back down from a challenge and I knew that, which is why I did it. What I didn’t know was how someone who was dealt such a shit hand managed anything. Yeah, she had a day or two of losing it but fuck, who wouldn’t? Given the circumstances, I shouldn’t be playing with fire like this but I can’t help it. I’m a fucking moth to her flame. Never have I been this attracted or this in tune with a female but she’s magnetic. It’s not just lust either; it’s full on wake up in the morning attraction. She’s all the things a woman is supposed to be in my eyes.
I didn’t care about her baggage, even though she had more bags of it than she could carry. There was something happening here and it wasn’t betrayal, it was… chemistry. It’s was explosive.
Telling her out felt right. Yeah, I wanted her to feel better but I truly wanted a night with her. No way I was asking her. Asking meant she had a choice. Asking meant she could say no, I’d have to accept that, which obviously wasn’t going to happen. Bet wasn’t used to taking orders, she was used to giving them. Only with me that won’t work. Around her my body and my mind were in a constant state of all things, Bet Lennox. For the first time in my adult life I wanted to know a woman before I fucked her. My dick wasn’t in charge and I wasn’t being led around by it for a change. Now that’s some new shit that I didn’t want to look into real hard.
Of all the things I did right, what I shouldn’t have done was respond to Adrian asking me if I had her yet. I told him I was close, he told me to get her back here or he’d send someone else. That freaked me out so I assured him I was making progress. When he said she’s a just a rich whore, I ground my molars. Asking him why he wanted her so bad, he growled his answer. “That bitch has me by the balls, get her here, Rio ‘cause if I don’t get my balls back I’ll take yours.”
After he hangs up on me, I took a shot at looking her up. Adrian doesn’t make threats lightly. Although he doesn’t scare me in the least, he has a hard-on for her and I wanted to know why. I had a hard-on for her myself and I found I didn’t care for competition. I also detected a note of fear in his voice which was a first because Adrian fears nothing. Typing her name in, instantly I’m flooded with pages and pages about her. First she was the heiress, then mogul and now the widow. She only hinted at her past but reading this more closely, I can feel myself getting depressed. Take all the nasty shit that had happened to her and set it aside. Bet Lennox wasn’t just rich, she was elite. The woman had it all financially but lost it all emotionally. She was beyond rich yet slept without air conditioning. The circles she ran in called her a social recluse but a shrewd business woman. The media says she is generous but distant, they also said she used to be outgoing and a staple in the city when she had her family. Now they say she’s mean, greedy and reclusive because of it. Thing is, I ain’t known her long, but I do know they ain’t got a fucking clue about this woman.
She bought her deceased daughter birthday gifts but gave them away to kids on the street. She slept with her daughter’s blanket, wore store bought clothes and drank cheap wine out of the bottle. She was a woman trying to figure it out after an epic loss. Now Adrian wants to fuck with her too, and I needed to find a way to stop him.
Shutting my phone off, I’m startled by a knock on my door. Looking at the clock on the nightstand, she only took thirty minutes to get ready. Swallowing hard, I had to guess she was backing out because women don’t get ready that quick and that bummed me the fuck out. “Hi,” she says with a small smile. As for me, I had shit to say. There she was, in silver heels, a black strappy dress that hinted at her cleavage and wearing soft pink lip gloss. Knowing words wouldn’t work; I take her tiny face in my rough hands and kiss her softly on the mouth.
“Hi,” I moan into her mouth. “Thought you were gonna bail.”
“I wanted to,” she admits quietly. Then looking me dead in the eyes she kisses me this time and whispers, “But I wanted to see you more.”
Taking her hand, I link my fingers with hers and together we walk toward the main dining room and wait for a table. Requesting an outdoor table to see the water, we’re ushered back and shown to a table on the patio. She glances around then looks at me. “It’s just us,” she muses, “The island must not be busy on Sundays.”
“Wouldn’t matter who was here,” I tell her, “All I care about is sitting right in front of me.”
“In that case, I won’t warn you about my behavior.”
She isn’t shy or afraid of compliments and I dig that about her. Women for me were a way to pass the time, scratch an itch and let’s be honest, shoot my load. But this woman ain’t like the others. She’s real, even if she is fucked up. Hell, I’m fucked up too considering I’m getting paid to essentially abduct her but I asked her out on a date. I can’t worry about that now, right now I have this beauty all alone and I wanted two things.
I knew if I played my cards right, I’d get both.
Told you I worked for a bookie for fifteen years, if I know anything it’s my odds.
During dinner I decided that the way to a man’s heart, my heart, was the ego. Making her laugh went from a goal to a mission. When Bet truly let go she’d catch herself laughing like it was a miracle it was happening. Several times she covered her mouth or looked around like she was going to get rolled for being happy. Taking her hands in mine to keep her from hiding it, I wowed her with joke after joke until her face was beet red and she started to hiccup.
For me, it was the best night of my life, so far.
Dinner was easy and it was…fun. Rio made it a personal mission to make me laugh. Turns out, once I got going I couldn’t seem to stop. At first, the sound of my own laughter c
aught me off guard but then little by little it got easier. Not only was he genuinely hilarious, he was the most authentic person I’ve ever met. He didn’t have an agenda, at least not one known to me yet. For now, we were simply two people enjoying each other’s company and I didn’t want it to end.
I made the difficult decision to sip on my wine because I was determined to have a clear head when I asked him to fuck me. Not make love to me, but to fuck me. I hadn’t made love since I was married and I wouldn’t again. Fucking had no feelings involved. I could be as rough as I wanted, as loud as I wanted and I could make him leave afterward.
Rio didn’t want someone like me long term and I told myself I didn’t want him for more than a night. Let’s face it, I’m young, emotionally unavailable, a sure thing and he has no idea who I really am. I knew I was lying to myself but I was okay with that too. Lying to myself has gotten me this far, and I wasn’t looking to fix what was already broken. I’ve accepted my lot, mostly. When this trip was over, I would remember him as the man who brought me back when I was at my lowest and be grateful. He didn’t know I was leaving tomorrow; there was no reason to tell him. He wasn’t mine; I wasn’t his and tonight was all we were going to get.
He broke through my thoughts when he offered me his hand. Looking at it, then at him, he stands up and says, “Dance with me.”
There was no dance floor, or even any music for that matter. He didn’t seem to care and right now dancing with him was the only thing I wanted. Pulling me to him, I wrap my hands around his neck without thought. In return he wraps his hands around my waist allowing one hand to rest on my ass. Slowly we start to move, following his lead I smile at how graceful he is.
“You do this often,” I comment.
“You’re the first,” he says squeezing me tighter.
“I don’t believe you,” I accuse. “You’re too good at this.”
“What if I told you the only dancing I did with a woman was between the sheets, or up against a wall. Maybe even the bathroom if I was in a pinch.”