Hot Pants

by Kade, Teagan

  I look at her with a questioning look on my face.

  “Excuse me?” I ask, making sure I understood what she said the first time.

  “I said ‘I love you,’” she repeats. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with you. But I have. From the day you rescued me, I just knew it. And then when you showed me you loved me, too…”

  She steps closer to me and puts her hand on my forearm, looking at me with a pleading, desperate look, her eyes glassy and wet.

  “Don’t leave, Derek. Please.”

  Her eyes pool, and this time, I have no question in my mind these tears are real.

  But I can’t look at her the same way again.

  Despite my best efforts, I‘m disgusted—with her, for pulling all this shit, and with myself, for falling for her.

  Wait a minute, I say to myself, but shrug off my self-doubt before railing into her.

  “Oh, now you say you love me?” I say, whipping my arm back violently. The way she flinches tells me she thought I was going to hit her, but I don’t care—I’m too fucking angry to care.

  “You know, the guys in the house warned me about you. They said you were a crazy bitch. But did I listen? No. I actually fell for you too, Beth. I loved you, probably the first time I’ve ever loved another woman outside of my dear sainted mother, and you… You turn out to be some crazy fucking firestarter. For what? To get some firefighter cock? To please your mother’s loser boyfriend? You’ve got issues, you know that, Beth?”

  I stomp down the hall towards the door, Beth not far behind me.

  “I thought you were different,” I say, a tinge of sadness in my voice. “Now I see you’re like all the rest. No, worse.”

  “You just said you loved me too!” she wails. “Derek, please! We can work this out! Derek! I need you to help me!”

  I look over my shoulder and take one last look at her. God, she’s beautiful, even in this fucked-up state.

  “What you need,” I say with finality, “is a fuckin’ psychiatrist and commitment to a mental ward.”

  I walk out the door, slamming it behind me, determined to never see her again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ELISABETH

  I deserve this.

  I wipe my tears and pad across the living room.

  Actually, no, I do not deserve this. I do not deserve any of this complete and utter bull crap. I do not deserve to have a mother who may or may not be using me to pay for an illness she may or may not have.

  I do not deserve to be stalked by her skeevy boyfriend, and I sure as hell don’t deserve to have my future completely ruined because of someone else’s bad choices.

  Derek cared. He really cared. He was the first guy to care in a long time, and I completely ruined it by dragging him into this mess.

  The sad part is I really like him. Derek is someone I could easily love—do love—not the fucked-up toxic shit my mother tried to pass off as love but real love… But I guess it’s too late for that now.

  No doubt he’s going to his boss right now to relay my confession. Or worse, he’s dropping in on Officer Brady. Either way, there’s a shitstorm blowing in and it’s headed right towards me.

  “It’s not fucking fair,” I sob like a child, impulsively launching a paperweight off the coffee table.

  It lands with a hard thunk but doesn’t break.

  God. I can’t even throw a tantrum right.

  I should just pack my things and head back to the old trailer park. I don’t think I was ever meant to escape my upbringing for good. This is all some sick cosmic curse.

  Lucinda can get me a job at the diner if Billy didn’t actually fire her. Maybe we can start over if I ever forgive her for this nightmare,

  Who am I kidding? I’m never forgiving her for this.

  The doorbell rings, startling me. My heart finds its way into my throat, choking me.

  Could Derek have called Officer Brady that quickly?

  I’m not in the mood. All I want right now is a gigantic glass of wine and an old Harrison Ford movie. I ignore the doorbell.

  Until it rings again.

  And again.

  I almost feel sorry for whoever is on the other side of my door. After all, there isn’t anything more dangerous than a pissed-off woman with nothing to lose.

  I open the door violently ready to unleash hell.

  “What the hell do you want?” I snap at the unfamiliar man standing on my doorstep.

  The pieces in my mind slowly click together as I take him in.

  He’s lanky and bald, clearly in his fifties. He’s wearing a baggy pair of dirty jeans and a hoodie that’s at least three sizes too big. There are deep circles under his gleaming eyes.

  He’s grinning at me. The teeth that aren’t silver are yellowed and chipped. I have never seen a more repulsive being in my life.

  I know it’s Travis. Who else could it be? But I can’t imagine my mother going to bed with this… this person.

  “Hello, darlin’,” he says.

  I can tell he’s trying to be charming. Even if he wasn’t completely disgusting, no one can charm me now I’ve been with Derek. Just thinking about him makes my heart ache.

  “Aren’t you goin’ to invite me in?” he says, voice raspy, like his vocal chords have been sanded down with 100-grit.

  “Why would I? I don’t know you,” I say.

  I’m positive this is Travis, but if I play dumb long enough, he might think he’s got the wrong house.

  “Sure, you do! Your mama’s told me all about you. You’ve inherited her stunnin’ looks, I see.”

  His eyes unabashedly rove over my body.

  I shudder in disgust.

  “You’re mistaken,” I say firmly. “I don’t know who you are. Leave, please.”

  I go to shut the door, but he blocks it with his hand, the façade dropping.

  “Stop playin’ fuckin’ games, Beth!” he snaps. The false charm is gone, replaced by a mad gleam in his eyes. “I came all this way to help you and you’re being a piss poor host.”

  “I don’t need your help,” I say, trying to stay calm. He’s strong. I can’t close the door. “I need you to leave.”

  “See, there you go again being rude. I know your mama taught you manners. Show me some of that SoCal hospitality,” he says with a grin.

  How did my mother end up with such a dirt-bag? She’s always been terrible at picking guys, but they always seem great at first. I can’t imagine this guy coming off as anything other than a creep.

  “That’s not a thing,” I say.

  I stop trying to close the door and decide to play along. I just need to keep him on the porch. There’s nothing he can do to me out here. If someone walks by, I’ll scream for help.

  “Don’t get smart,” Travis says. “I heard you on the phone with Lucinda. You’re completely fucking up the plan. I’m here to help you get it right. After that, I’ll be on my way.”

  He lifts his hands in surrender.

  I decide to push him a bit. “She told me all about you and the scam you coerced her into. She’s not even sick! You’re just a greedy jackass trying to take advantage of us,” I snap. “As a matter of fact, I’ve already called the police. They’re coming here to take my statement, any minute now.”

  Now I’m actually hoping Derek has called Officer Brady. If not, hopefully my bluff is enough to fool this sleazebag. He grins at me. My skin crawls under his gaze.

  “I bet you feel real smart right now, don’t you?” he coos. “But I know Lucinda didn’t tell you shit. I monitor all her phone calls.”

  “She sent me a letter, dumbass,” I say. “Now I know why. A letter is the best way to hide something from an illiterate asshole like you.”

  I grip the door, ready to slam it in his stupid face now he’s let go.

  “Someone really needs to teach you some manners,” he growls.

  “I’ll hire a tutor. The point is, jackass, your little plan is finished,” I say, smirking. “I know you’re full of shi
t, Mom knows you’re full of shit, and my friends at the fire department know you’re full of shit. If I were you, I’d hop back into that dingy shitbox you call a car and fuck right off into the sunset.”

  I throw the door forward, but he stops its momentum with his hand again.

  “Lucky for me I always have a plan B,” he smirks.

  He lashes out before I can move away, grabbing my arm and twisting it hard behind my back. My elbow and shoulder scream in protest as they’re jammed into an unnatural, painful position.

  “What the fuck?” I shriek.

  I thrash against him, but he’s stronger than he looks. He shoves me farther into the living room and slams the door, locking it. I lose my footing and fall onto the carpet.

  I keep down, waiting for him to get near before springing up and trying to knee him in the balls, but he’s ready, easily throwing me back to the ground.

  My arm refuses to support my weight when I try to right myself. I’m trying to scramble away when I feel a shoe come down hard on my back.

  “Fuck!” I scream as loudly as I can.

  A neighbor will hear me. Someone will hear me.

  “You should have been more hospitable,” Travis snarls.

  He yanks both my arms behind my back and binds them with some kind of rope.

  Where the hell did he get rope? I wonder.

  “You’re insane!” I screech.

  I thrash against him, but without my hands it’s not very effective. I have to get on my back.

  “You pushed me to this, bitch!” Travis yells, spit flying from his rotting mouth. “All you and your worthless mother had to do was play along. All three of us could have been sittin’ pretty on a big ol’ pile of cash. But no, you had to pull this morality bullshit, and now I’m the one getting’ screwed over.”

  “Right. Because you’re the victim here,” I retort, laughing through gritted teeth.

  “Oh, no, sweetheart. I’m the villain.”

  With that, he grins, his gnarled hand grabbing a chunk of my hair and yanking it hard. His mouth is right up against my ear.

  “Your mama’s the villain, too. And guess what? So are you. You’re the one who started all this, so don’t think for one damn second you’re any different from me. We’re the same, you and me.”

  I realize he’s right. My whole life I’ve been acting like I’m better than everyone around me. I looked down on everyone in the trailer park, even my own mother.

  But I was one of them. My mother and her boyfriend are scammers and liars. But so am I.

  “What are you going to do?” I ask, all fight draining from my voice.

  “It’s real simple, actually,” Travis says, dragging me by my wrists and propping me up against the loveseat. “I’m goin’ to do what you were supposed to do the first time.”

  “You’re going to set my house on fire?” I ask.

  Instead of answering me, Travis disappears back through the front door. I try to maneuver myself to get my bound arms in front of me.

  My plan is to chew the ropes off like they do in the action movies, but Travis comes back before I can manage it.

  He has a gasoline canister.

  I tense up, knowing immediately where this is headed.

  “I’m going to set your house on fire, with you in it.” He smiles as he says it.

  Bile rises in my throat as he begins to douse the carpet and furniture with the foul-smelling fluid.

  “Why?” is all I can scream through my panic.

  He’s crazy. Completely crazy.

  I’m going to be murdered by a crazy man, I think.

  I start to sob as I choke on the fumes from the gasoline. It’s nothing if not ironic.

  “And you call me the dumbass,” Travis says with a smirk.

  He’s actually enjoying this.

  I think I’m going to be sick, to literally vomit.

  “Double payout, baby girl!” he whoops, as if he was out mudding rather than committing a murder. “Your mama’s going to enjoy cashing in your life insurance.”

  “She’s not my beneficiary,” I murmur.

  The gasoline stings my eyes, but the thought of not being able to see what Travis is doing, too, is terrifying.

  “Don’t matter, princess,” he taunts. “She’s your next of kin. I’m getting your money and there’s not a God damn thing you can do about it.”

  He’s wrong. There’s always something I can do about it. I’ve proven that time and time again. I’m nothing if not resourceful.

  That’s what separates me from lowlifes like him. How dare he make me feel like we’re the same?

  I just have to think.

  The fumes are becoming too much. They’re scrambling my brain, making it impossible to think clearly. My arms and wrists scream with pain.

  I’m too disoriented to move them the way they need to go.

  My thoughts drift to my mother. I know she’ll go to the police when she hears what happened. Travis will not get away with this.

  Yet it’s a cold comfort.

  Derek will help her collect evidence from the smoldering remains here. Officer Brady will put everything through rushed processing.

  I’ll have justice.

  God, this is so fucking morbid, I realize.

  As if to say a final ‘fuck you,’ Travis splashes a little gasoline on my face. I gag from the taste.

  “I heard it only hurts for a moment,” he simpers. “Once all your nerve endings burn up, you’ll feel nothing.”

  “Go to hell,” I spit out.

  I’m so dizzy. Inhaling all these fumes will probably kill me before the fire does. Another cold comfort.

  I can’t see Travis anymore. My vision is too blurry. I hear the quick scratch of a match, the small whoosh of a flame igniting.

  But then I hear another sound. It sounds like splintering wood, but I can’t think of anything that would make that noise. I must be hallucinating.

  “Make one single fucking move and I will fucking end you.”

  That voice.

  I know that voice.

  “Derek,” I croak.

  And it’s right then Travis drops the match.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  DEREK

  My fingers tighten involuntarily around the windowsill. Painfully. It’s all I can do not to rip the board clean off as I watch the bastard splash gasoline directly into Beth’s face.

  I knew something looked off about the guy. I knew I was right to stick around. I had barely settled into my car when I saw him casually strolling up to Beth’s door.

  Something about him immediately set alarm bells ringing.

  For a moment, brief but persistent, I considered leaving anyway, just driving off and leaving Beth to deal with her own mess.

  Thank God I’m learning to shut down my inner bastard. Thank God for the years of fighting fires that have honed my instincts.

  It’s gotta be the boyfriend, I thought as I slipped from my car. It’s gotta be that fucking Travis idiot.

  Any gratitude towards my instincts is forgotten now, though, swallowed whole by my building rage. I’ve never felt anything quite like it—pure, unadulterated anger seems to course through my veins in an instant, hot and burning.

  As I walk towards the front door it only seems to grow, wave after wave of fury pouring into me.

  It’s not like I’ve never been mad before. I’ve been in my fair share of scuffles—come out ahead more often than not, too.

  Despite that, it’s not exactly a secret I’m more of a lover than a fighter. I typically prefer to get my bruises from more intimate pursuits.

  All of that fades the moment I set eyes on this guy. The idea of this piece of shit harming Beth has given me a whole new understanding of the term ‘blood boiling.’ My blood is fucking molten, my heart jack hammering wildly in my chest like a twenty-ton press.

  I don’t even think as I raise my foot to the solid oak of Beth’s door. No, this part’s pure instinct. Breaking through the barriers
, saving the people on the other side, this is well-worn territory. I just don’t usually want to rip someone’s head off when I get to the other side.

  The door gives way easily to my rage. It flies inward with a sound like an explosion, shards of wood fanning out wildly like shrapnel. I’m right on their heels, stepping through the entryway in one long stride.

  “Make one single fucking move, and I will fucking end you.” The words erupt from me in a growl, my teeth grating against each other in anger.

  I’ve never meant anything more in my life. In fact, a part of me hopes he will move, that he’ll force my hand, give me the excuse I need to tear him apart.

  “Derek,” Beth says, shock heavy in her voice.

  Like Travis, she turns toward me, her reddened eyes clearly trying to hone in on my location. The sight of her struggle only fuels my rage.

  The bastard holding the match beside her has the nerve to smile, a shit-eating grin that perfectly displays the level of apathy he feels towards dental health. His yellow-and-silver teeth flash at me. God, I want nothing more than to wipe the foolish smirk from his face.

  In the same moment he drops the lit match.

  “Derek!” Beth screams, her feet pulling back instinctively.

  I’m already moving as the match hits the ground, flying towards the already sparking flame.

  Frenzied, I grab for the nearest cloth, a blanket draped across the couch, and throw myself between her and the steadily growing fire. With a practiced motion, I fling my arms wide, dropping the fabric neatly atop the threat. The majority of it smothers instantly, all but the barest trail that continues to crawl toward the loveseat, towards a nearly panicked Beth.

  My boot makes quick work of it, extinguishing the threat before it can so much as scorch her shoe. It the fumes I’m more worried about, but I don’t plan on hanging around here long.

  I hear Beth’s sigh of relief, but I don’t stay still to hear what comes next. My attention is already flashing back toward Travis, the asshole whose smug grin seems to have disappeared with the fire.

  He stares dumbly at me for a moment, mouth agape in an expression of shock that would be funny under any other circumstance.

  “Motherfucker,” he finally spits, eyes flaring back to life, “I’ll kill you for that.”