by Geonn Cannon
A drum thudded along in tempo with Lance's heartbeat, a screeching guitar guiding Jodie's hips as the singer's voice drifted over the chords. Jodie walked back to the couch, her legs crossing as they extended from the tails of her shirt. Lance had one hand on the arm of the couch and found her fingers contracted against the plush material. She sank back into the cushions as Jodie stood in front of her. Jodie smiled and moved her hands to the buttons of her shirt.
"Jodie," Lance managed to croak.
"Shh," Jodie said. She pushed her hair out of her face and then went back to the buttons. Her smile was confident, but there was a hint of anxiety in her eyes. She was breathing hard, a vein in her throat throbbing with her pulse. Lance knew that if she stopped the dance—not that it was within her power to do so at the moment—it would make Jodie feel rejected. She focused on Jodie's eyes as the shirt came undone and she was once again transfixed by those marvelous blue and green eyes.
The song started over and Lance realized it was on repeat. She also realized that while she was distracted by Jodie's eyes, Jodie had knelt on the couch. She straddled her hips, knees digging into the cushion on either side, and rocked her hips forward as her shirt came undone. Lance eyed the smooth skin of Jodie's belly, the line that crossed it at her navel, the tiny bow in between the cups of her black bra.
Lance's ears burned, her body struggling to breathe. Jodie gently gripped Lance's hands and guided them to her chest. She arched her back, her hips rocked forward again, and Lance pushed the shirt off Jodie's shoulders. Jodie's smile became more confident and she said, "There we go. I knew we could think of something to do before the race."
Lance couldn't even come up with a coherent reply. She moved her hand to the swell of Jodie's breast.
"Take it off, Carmen."
Lance's hand jerked back as if she'd gotten burnt. Carmen, goddamn it. She moved her hands to Jodie's hips and said, "Stop. Stop it."
"Carmen? Did I do something wrong?"
"No," Lance said. She gently deposited Jodie on the cushion next to her, ignoring the way her thighs sprawled apart. "We can't do this."
Lance stood and Jodie struggled to untangle her legs to follow her. "Carmen, wait."
Stop calling me that! Lance shouted in her head, hands shaking as she grabbed the apartment's doorknob. Jodie managed to get in front of her and push the door shut again. She had put the shirt back on, holding the two halves together with one hand. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know we haven't even kissed yet, but I thought it would be fun. I thought we were... I thought our relationship, or, no, forget it."
"Jodie," Lance said. "It's not you."
Jodie laughed, but there was a sob hanging onto the end of it. "Then...then let's go back in there." She put her hand on Lance's wrist. "I want to."
"I do, too. Trust me, Jodie. There's just a lot of stuff going on inside my head. I need a little time. I'm sorry."
Jodie nodded and looked down at her bare feet. She stepped away from the door. "Okay. Well, you should probably go ahead and leave then."
"Jodie..."
"It's fine."
Lance looked at the doorknob. She didn't want to leave. Dear God, did she not want to leave. But the idea of making love to Jodie was less appealing than the idea of letting Jodie make love to someone she didn't even know. She couldn't do that. Instead of turning the knob and making her escape, she turned and faced Jodie. "I'm falling in love with you, Jodie. And it feels like a betrayal." Not just to you, because you don't know who I really am, she thought as Elaine's visage floated in front of her. "I'm sorry. I just need some time."
"Okay."
Lance cupped Jodie's face and brushed her thumb over her bottom lip. She pushed Jodie back until her shoulders touched the wall, closed the distance, and kissed her. Jodie moaned as their parted lips met, and her hands moved to Lance's shoulders. Lance touched the tip of Jodie's tongue and eased her hands from Jodie's shoulders to her wrists. She lifted Jodie's arms over her head, crossed the wrists, and let her hand trail from wrist to elbow to shoulder like a drop of water following a branch. Her hand slipped under Jodie's top, cupping her breast through the brassiere, and felt the nipple harden against her palm.
Lance broke the kiss before it could get any more out of hand, nipped at Jodie's bottom lip, and watched her eyelids slowly open. How can someone have such gorgeous eyes? What must the world look like through eyes like that?
"Looks pretty good right now," Jodie said, and Lance realized she had spoken out loud. "Why can't you stay?"
Lance rested her forehead on Jodie's shoulder, felt Jodie's hair on her face and the warm skin of Jodie's neck against the bridge of her nose. "So many reasons. I am so sorry, Jodie, for putting you in this situation."
"Don't apologize to me." She kissed Lance's ear, and pushed her away. "If you're going to leave, then go. Stop torturing me." Both cheeks were now wet and she used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe them away.
Lance managed to extricate herself and moved to the other side of the entry hall. Jodie folded in on herself, crossing her feet at the ankles and forcing her shirt closed around her bra. She looked small, exposed, and Lance hated herself for making her look that way.
"Do you still want to come to the race?"
"Yeah. Yes, of course."
Jodie nodded. "I'll see you there."
Lance knew a dismissal when she heard one, but she was still reluctant to leave. "I'm sorry."
"Just go."
Lance opened the door and escaped into the hallway. The door closed behind her and Lance took the walk of shame to the elevator door. She pressed the button, stepped back, and looked at the numbers as they shined over the door. Right before the car arrived, Lance shoved forward and punched the wall over the call button.
She hissed, flexed her fingers, and shook her hand until the sting went away. She stepped into the elevator car and looked at the red marks on her knuckles. She could still flex her hand, so the bones were intact. She had gotten lucky. Her hand, like her relationship with Jodie, was not broken. Just badly damaged.
#
Chapter Nine
Lance sat in her car, foot up in the seat, and watched the cars on the highway. It wasn't as impressive in daylight, but the sun dancing off hundreds of windshields had a certain appeal. Her photograph of Elaine was propped against the steering wheel, and she looked into her eyes as if expecting a reprimand. There was no sharp accusation, no angry words. Elaine was, for the first time since Lance went on the run, absolutely silent. The silence had lasted for a couple of weeks now, Lance realized.
"Where are you? Huh? Are you being quiet because you're agreeing with this? You approve? Or are you turning your back on me?" She picked up the photo and blinked away her tears. "It's not fair to you. It's not fair to her. I should just disappear now while I still can."
"And what? Start up once again in a new town? This is what you were looking for, Claire. A home. A place where you could settle down and become part of the tapestry. Falling in love is a side effect of that. You didn't plan it. But it's time."
Lance realized it was Elaine's voice in her head. "It's only been two years."
"We were only together for three years. Did you think I expected you to stay alone your entire life? Do you really think it's a betrayal to move on?"
"Yes." She closed her eyes and saw Jodie's underwear painted on the inside of her eyelids. She turned away, pressed her forehead to the window, and stared down at the pavement.
"What did I always say? Claire. What did I always say?"
Lance remembered lying in bed together, fingers laced on top of Elaine's stomach. They were spooned, Lance's body covering Elaine's. Lance remembered the way Elaine trembled when she blew the hair away from her neck and kissed the soft skin underneath.
"You said I wouldn't do well on my own."
"You need someone in your life."
"What life?" Lance snapped. She slapped the steering wheel with her palm, then grabbed it with both hands. She jerked
on it with all her might, rocking back and forth in the seat in a furied attempt to rip the column from the dashboard. "This life? What fucking right do I have? What fucking right to bring Jodie into this? Just because I'm in love with her."
"And she is in love with you."
Lance stopped and slumped forward. She covered her eyes with her hands and sobbed quietly. She'd seen it coming and didn't step out of the way. She let it happen. She encouraged it. And now that everything was coming together, now that she was a step away from being in a relationship again, she wanted to run. She had to run. She couldn't betray Elaine's memory by jumping into bed with the first woman who turned her fancy.
She thought about Kelsey Quinn, and the husband who left her a widow. Kelsey moved on. She had a lover, Andrea Tyler. Somehow she managed to respect her husband's memory while moving on.
"I'm not that strong. I feel like I'd be leaving you behind."
"Claire, you'll never leave me behind. Two years after my murder, and you're still talking to me. I was your soul mate. You were mine."
"Where does that leave Jodie?"
Elaine's voice changed and became Kelsey's. "I believe in soul mates. Maybe some people have two. Maybe some people need to have two. This world we live in, I wouldn't be surprised. Let Jodie in."
Lance leaned back and wiped her eyes. "Two soul mates."
"I love you, Claire. And if letting you go, if blessing this relationship with Jodie helps ease even a fraction of the pain that losing me caused, then go to her. You've been hurting so badly, baby. It's time for you to let go of some of that."
Lance picked up Elaine's photo and tucked it under the sun visor again. "All right. But I won't let you go. Never."
"Better not." Lance could almost feel Elaine's fingers pinching her bare hip, that morning sleeping in and wrapped in sheets like mummies. She smiled and wiped her eyes. The clock said it was still before noon; still enough time to get to the racetrack and see Jodie shine.
#
The racetrack was on the far side of town, and it was just barely past noon when Lance arrived. She found a parking spot, bought a ticket, and made her way out to the seats. Two curved grandstands faced each other like parenthesis on either side of an oval-shaped track. Lance found an empty seat and scanned the edge of the track for any sign of Jodie. She was about to give up when she spotted her. Jodie was across the grounds, standing next to the car she had shown off in the garage.
She wore a bright red flameproof suit, her hair gathered back in a ponytail. She had her hands out in front of her, checking her gloves. A man in a white coveralls approached her with a sleek, black helmet. Jodie took it, bowed her head, and pushed it on. Lance smiled. The first time I saw her, she was wearing a helmet.
Jodie walked toward the car, but someone else walked out of the pit to intercept her. Lance frowned when she recognized Rebecca St. John. She could still feel the woman's hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look up at her. Jodie stopped and they spoke briefly before Jodie nodded. Rebecca stepped aside and Jodie continued to the car.
Rebecca turned to watch her go, and then turned her head slightly to look into the bleachers. For a second, Lance felt like the woman was staring straight at her. The moment was brief, and Rebecca turned around and went back into the shadows. Lance leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and watched as Jodie climbed into her car.
She didn't know what to think about her reaction to Rebecca. Part of it was the way they were introduced. But there was something more. The way Jodie acted around her made Lance nervous. Almost like a beaten child faced with an abusive parent. There were no visible bruises, Jodie never seemed afraid of Rebecca. She was just intimidated.
Cops, sisters, and trouble. Three things I never seem to have to look for.
Jodie's car began to roll, and she joined the other racers at the starting line. Lance pushed questions about Rebecca out of her mind and applauded as the announcer's voice came over the loudspeakers.
#
After the race, Lance left the bleachers and tried to go down into the paddock. A large black man in a polo shirt two sizes too small put up a hand when she reached the gate. "Sorry. No unauthorized personnel beyond this point."
"I'm a friend of Jodie Curran," Lance said. "Uh, Calico?"
"If you're name isn't on the list, you'll have to—"
"She's all right, Clarence."
Lance and the security guy both turned at the sound of the voice. Rebecca St. John was walking along a sidewalk under the bleachers, a towel and a bottle of water in her hand. She motioned for Clarence to open the gate and said, "She's with Ms. Curran. Let her through."
"Sorry," Clarence pushed the gate open and said, "Can't be too careful."
Lance stepped through and hurried to catch up with Rebecca. "Thanks."
"Jodie was afraid you wouldn't show up. I'm glad you did."
"We had a..." A what? A situation, a moment, a misunderstanding? She shook her head. "I wouldn't miss this. She was great today."
"Hundred and eighty miles an hour."
Lance whistled.
"Could be better."
Lance wasn't sure if Rebecca was being too harsh or just being a perfectionist. She decided to let it go for the moment. She followed Rebecca out into the pit area. Jodie's car was being swarmed by a group of mechanics in white coveralls. Jodie was sitting a few yards away with her back to the door, draining a plastic water bottle. Rebecca approached from behind and Lance felt like shouting out a warning. But Rebecca moved too fast. She put a hand on Jodie's shoulder and said, "Here's your towel. And look what I found wandering around outside."
Jodie turned. Her face shined with sweat, her hair lank and lifeless. Her face came to life, though, as soon as she spotted Lance. She pushed herself off the stool and said, "Carmen, you made it!"
"I wouldn't have missed it."
They embraced, Lance ignoring the ripe smell rising from Jodie's unzipped suit and, when they pulled back, Jodie gave Lance a kiss on the cheek. "I wish you could have seen me win, but you know how it goes."
"You looked pretty amazing out there to me."
Jodie smiled and reached down to pluck at her gloves. She looked at Rebecca and said, "Could we have a moment?"
"After we speak about the—"
"It'll just take a second." Jodie smiled sweetly, but there was no denying the finality in her voice. It wasn't open for debate.
Rebecca pursed her lips and Lance thought she saw the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. She raised an eyebrow and said, "Take your time, ladies."
Jodie put her hand on Lance's elbow and guided her away. She waited until Rebecca was out of earshot before she laughed. "Sorry. I couldn't resist that. Did you really enjoy the race?"
"I did. It was great." She cleared her throat. "I just wanted to apologize for what happened before the race."
"You have nothing to apologize for. I was acting like a sex-hungry teenager. The truth is, before a race, I tend to get a little..." She cleared her throat. "Over eager. Speed gets me off. And the anticipation of going upwards of two hundred miles an hour flicks a switch in me. I should have warned you. Or at least not invited you to my apartment. I took advantage of you, and I'm sorry."
Lance considered just taking the apology and moving on, but her conscience—or Elaine—wouldn't let her. "I can't let you take all the blame. We've been seeing each other for a while now. You're entitled to a little...stress relief."
"No one is entitled to it," Jodie said. "If you're not comfortable taking that step, we can wait. I understand." She put her hand on Lance's arm and squeezed. "You're worth waiting for."
Lance's heart leapt and she had to look away. When she did, she saw that Rebecca was standing at the edge of the pit watching them.
Jodie followed her gaze. "Don't worry about her. She doesn't mind I broke up with her sister."
"Yeah. Still." She forced herself to look away and said, "What are you doing after the race?"
"Depends on what
Rebecca has planned. Oh. A guy in the pit crew has tickets for tomorrow's Seahawks game. Do you want to go?"
"With him or with you?"
Jodie pressed her lips together and slugged Lance on the shoulder.
"I'd love to. I've never actually been to a basketball game." Jodie's eyes widened. "Baseball. Hockey. Soccer?"
Jodie reached out and took Lance's hand. She scraped her fingernails over Lance's palm, sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, and said, "You said we were together. We are, aren't we?"
"Yeah. It took me a while to convince myself."
"The night I found out Tania was screwing around on me, the night I ended things with her, I swore to myself—I swore up and down—that I was not going to get into a relationship. I was done with the whole damn dating thing."
"And now?"
"I'm going to stop swearing to myself."
Lance smiled. She wiped a bit of sweat from Jodie's eyebrow, bent down and kissed her lips. She felt Jodie's hands on her shoulders, but she didn't lean into them. She put her hands on Jodie's hips and gently pushed her away when the kiss was over.
Jodie smiled and raised an eyebrow. "That's for coming in fourth?"
"Yeah."
"What happens when I win?"
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."
Jodie slipped out of Lance's grasp and looked toward Rebecca. "I think I have to spend some time getting chewed out for losing. Thank you for taking the edge off whatever she has to say."
"What does she know?" Lance asked, surprised at the anger in her voice. "You're the one in the car. She just pays the bills."
Jodie shrugged. "She's the boss. I'll see you tonight?"
"Yeah. Do you want to come over to my place?"
"I've never seen your place."
Lance shrugged. "I think it's time." She gave halting directions, using landmarks rather than street names. "It's the third apartment from the stairs. There aren't any numbers on the door. I'll leave a scarf on the knob or something so you'll know it's the right place."
Jodie laughed as they approached Rebecca. "Sounds good."