by Mike Faricy
Chapter 27
Macey hadn’t driven straight home after leaving the Moonlight Dance Academy. She took a more indirect, roundabout route, thinking about everything and nothing as she drove. As a precaution, she cruised past her home twice to look things over, eventually parking in front and running to the door.
Willy was not coming back into her life. She wouldn’t let him. She would rather die. She just hoped he would stay away and leave her alone.
She bolted the door, checked all the windows, and scrolled through her caller ID. Then she laid awake in the dark between fitful snatches of sleep, thinking about Willy and the last beating he’d given her before he disappeared. She would report his contact, the restraining order violation, tomorrow. But she knew from bitter experience there really wasn’t a damn thing anyone could do except make note of it. Not a damn thing until he hurt her again.
Her digital clock read 3:37, the glowing green numerals illuminating her 9mm millimeter lying on the nightstand, within easy reach. But the loaded pistol didn’t provide her with any comfort. She felt like a little girl, afraid of what was under the bed. Daylight, if it ever arrived, would be far better. She was too frightened to think about Willy’s call. Too mad to think about Hub, except to wish he was here right now next to her.
Just before 8:00, Willy slouched down low behind the wheel of his burgundy Buick Riviera, watching from a distance as Macey pulled away from the curb. The car wasn’t the greatest ride he’d had, but he kept telling himself it blended in so no one would notice him. Now, with Macey gone, he had all the time he needed to look for her spare key. After almost two years of living with her, she couldn’t have changed that much. There would be a spare key somewhere around that front door, and once he found it, he could come back tonight.
He knew her routine well. She would come home and hop in the shower, just like she did every day after work. That’s when he would go in. Find out where she kept her gun and get it out of the way. Then, he’d wait patiently in the bedroom until she came in, drying herself. He’d wait there for her, maybe hide behind the door and leave his keyring out on her dresser. Let her see the keyring and think about it for a minute. He’d say something cool like, ‘Trick or treat, I’m back,’ or ‘Miss your daddy, Baby?’ The bitch was definitely going to need a little reeducation session to get her back in line.
He could make a copy of her spare key this morning. That way, if she ever removed the spare, acting stupid, thinking she could keep him out, it wouldn’t hold him up. It would all go a long way in convincing her she better start seeing things his way again.
It took him three minutes before he had the key in his hands. The old hiding place had been the top of the doorframe. This time, it was in one of those fake rocks, lying in her garden. Only two problems, it was the only rock in the garden, and she’d left the price tag on it. “Macey, Macey, Macey.” He chuckled. “You bad, girl.”
Macey was thinking throughout the day what a stupid jerk Hub was. They sure grew them stupid up north. On the other hand, there was a kind of unworldly innocence about him she really liked. Especially after dealing with all the schemers and fast talkers she ran across on a daily basis in her job. It was kind of nice to run into a guy who was just a guy. No big deals, no lies, no bullshit, just a nice guy. Maybe he was just what she needed, idiot that he was.
She knew one thing she didn’t need, Willy. She’d filed her report with a girlfriend over at Tampa Metro. But that was all she could do, that, and follow her girlfriend Arnella’s advice. Arnella was two hundred and eight pounds of no-nonsense black woman. She’d put five kids through college, all by herself.
“Honey, I don’t care if you’re not licensed to carry,” Arnella told her. “That no-good bastard of a man shows up, you shoot him. Shoot him till he don’t move. Then, you shoot him once more, just to make sure. Drag his worthless rear end into your house. Then, you call the police, girl. You hear what I’m tellin’ you, Macey?”
That was just what Macey intended to do. As her day dragged on, she hoped against hope that maybe Willy was scared off, all the while knowing he wouldn’t be. He was eventually going to reappear in her life. She didn’t mention Willy to anyone in the office. They would have been there for her in a heartbeat, but she couldn’t face them. Couldn’t let them know that the worst decision she had ever made, the one everyone had warned her about, was back in town.
Her day finally ended, or rather, she ended the day. She hadn’t come close to accomplishing a damn thing. She sorted files from one stack to another before sorting them back again until it was finally time to give up the pretense of work and just go home. Go home, maybe call Hub, admit she was wrong or at least sorry. Tell him she was maybe a little out of line with her reaction to his toe crushing stomp and his stupid, idiotic comment last night. Maybe they could go to a movie, something he’d like with plenty of explosions, car chases, big boobs, and mindless plot.
Willy had revised his plan, parking a few doors down from Macey’s. He nodded politely to Macey’s elderly neighbor, Mrs. Fox, as he walked past. He walked up to Macey’s door, took out his shiny new key, and let himself in, as easy as you please.
Macey had had her fill of idiots and jackasses over the past eight hours. Friday, half the idiots in the world suddenly needed their reports done, even though the paperwork had sat on some anonymous desk for the first half of the week. Now she was supposed to turn into a bionic woman and use her super fingers. Forget it!
The fact that the other half of the world’s idiots were in all the cars ahead of her on the way home should have come as no surprise. Her fifteen-minute drive home had taken thirty-five minutes. Unlocking the front door, she was too damn tired to care about anything but a shower after sorting through two credit card bills, the power bill, and a notice for street repair assessments. Yeah, it figured, even the mail seemed to be against her today.
She tossed her blouse and skirt on the bed, promising she was going to work to make things better, starting with a long, hot shower.
Willy was quietly hiding in a dark corner of her walk-in closet. He could hear her getting undressed, could sense her movement while he watched her shadow on the bedroom wall. He knew, if he just stood there quietly, Macey would eventually get in the shower. Once she came out, she would be completely helpless, and Willy’s fun could begin.
Chapter 28
Hub figured Macey was still mad. She wasn’t just mad. She was downright irrational. She’d turned her voice mail off so he couldn’t leave a message. He just wanted to leave a nice message. Maybe a better option would be to show up at her door and ask her out to dinner. There was a shrimp place they liked. Maybe some BBQ shrimp, pour down a few too many beers, get her to relax, talk, and laugh. It just might go a long way in making things right with both their worlds.
He figured she got home right around 5:00. He would be at her door at 5:30, maybe pick up some flowers along the way to help persuade her to go to dinner with him, hopefully get her to relax a little.
On the way over to Macey’s, he rehearsed a variety of apologies out loud. He’d never been too good at this, and practicing behind the wheel, it was clear time had done nothing to improve his skill level.
The only thing Hub knew about flowers was their gardens had to be weeded. His grandmother had been big on daises and mums. He weeded her garden eternally as a kid. He finally decided on daises then waited in line behind four other guys who were probably groveling tonight, too.
Ten minutes of strong, hot water steaming over her began to give Macey a new look on life. She was thinking through her dilemma. Should she call Hub, tell him about Willy? That would mean she’d have to tell Hub about that whole, sordid chapter in her life, plus tell him she worked at the County Sheriff’s office, even though she hated it.
It would mean he’d think she was a cop. Once he thought that, if he was like most guys, she’d get a kiss on the cheek, one more night with him in her bed, before he left, never to be seen again. On the other ha
nd, he was going to learn it all sooner or later anyway. Just remember not to stand in front of the door when he made the break and ran away. Well, if nothing else, the hot water felt good.
Willy sat on the bed listening to the water running, waiting patiently. He saw her gun on the nightstand and thought it would be fun to blow Macey’s mind a little bit. He emptied the clip, emptied the chamber, and returned her pistol to the nightstand. Then he laid his keyring with the Tampa Bay Buccaneers bottle opener on her dresser. Macey had always hated his keyring. Willy loved to make her get him beers. Then he’d open the bottle with that opener.
He had straightened out her attitude on that note more than once. Poured the beer over her as she crawled down the hall, kicked her rear end, and beat her with his belt. Lucky thing for her she was wearing jeans.
Macey eventually turned off the shower, watched as the last of the water dripped onto her feet and down the drain. She felt refreshed, renewed, and she was finally beginning to relax.
Maybe she should just pull her hair back, put on some jeans, and call Hub. They could meet somewhere, grab something to eat. It was nice, she thought, walking down the hallway and drying her hair. Hub seemed to like her with or without makeup. Yeah, he might be a farm boy, but she should just be happy with that. There was nothing wrong with him not being fancy, and it was more than a lot of girls end up with. Certainly a lot more than Macey had gotten in the past. Blue jeans, a T-shirt, Hub, and a cold beer sounded like just the right prescription for the beginning of a much better weekend.
She was drying her hair with the towel, enjoying the chill from her air conditioning. After the heat of the shower, it felt good, brisk, refreshing. Just relax this weekend, and take it—
There, on her dresser, was the all too familiar Tampa Bay Buccaneers keyring and the bottle opener that had almost knocked her front teeth out two years ago. She jumped for her pistol on the nightstand, just as the closet door slid open.
“How you doin’ there, sweet cheeks? You been missing your lovin’ man?” Willy laughed.
Chapter 29
Hub parked in front of Macey’s, just behind her car, hoping she had a couple of cold beers in the fridge. He rang the doorbell and thought he could hear the TV inside.
“Come on, Macey,” he said to the door. “It’s hot out here. These damn flowers are gonna die.”
Macey grabbed the pistol just as Willy stepped out of her closet, rattling hangers and kicking a red high heel out the door.
“What?” Willy asked, grinning as she waved the pistol toward him. “You wouldn’t want to hurt your main man, now, would ya? Shit girl, and all this time I thought you loved me. Now, do I have to reeducate you all over again?” When Willy said reeducate, he smiled at Macey. Not a nice smile. It was more like someone enjoying a dog biting a child.
“Willy, you get the hell out of my house. I’ve got a restraining order. I swear to God, you take one more step, and I’ll shoot. Now get out of here. Get out of my house, now!” she screamed, so terrified she began to shake.
“Aw, come on, honey. I don’t want nothing but a little understanding, a little lovin’. We all need love, baby, and I missed yours. I’ve been thinking about you all heated up for quite a while now. Remember how you liked the things I did to you? You’re gonna get me mad, baby? Gonna make me reeducate you, baby?”
He took another step toward her, and she raised the pistol, holding it in both her hands, pointing it directly at Willy. She pulled the trigger. The hollow click echoed in the room. She pulled the trigger a second time, shoving the pistol toward him as she did so. Hoping the extra effort would force the round out of the barrel and into Willy, slamming him back and away.
He smiled at the look on her face, a combination of surprise and pure terror. “Hmm-mmm, sweet cheeks. Now that didn’t seem to work the way you planned. Did it?”
“Willy, don’t, please,” Macey pleaded.
His face was void of expression. He lunged for Macey, attempting to grab her around the throat.
She swung the pistol upward, splitting his chin, knocking him back into the closet. She turned and screamed as she ran out of her bedroom.
“Damn it, you little bitch,” shouted Willy. He held his chin and watched as the blood dripped into his hand. “I’m gonna kick your ass, girl. Gonna kick your ass something good this time, baby.”
Two doors down, Mrs. Fox had just stepped back from her marigolds and watched the nice young man with the flowers ring the doorbell, again. ‘This should be interesting what with that other man already inside,’ she thought.
Hub was sweating on the doorstep. If Macey was playing games with him, not answering the doorbell, he wasn’t in the mood tonight. He could hear the TV on inside. He heard people screaming all the way out here on the doorstep. He pounded on the heavy wooden door. “Macey,” he called, pausing, getting ready to really pound this time. “Mace…”
As the door flew open, Macey tumbled into him, naked, her mouth open, eyes wide with terror.
Hub had never been the fastest on Blue Earth’s High School football team, but then, linemen didn’t need a lot of speed. He’d been an All State lineman in a state league of tough, hard farm boys. He’d added another twenty pounds and, today, a temper with a very short fuse. In a half-second he had Macey behind him and charged into Willy close to full force in just three strides.
Willy didn’t have time to stop, let alone get out of the way. He was halfway to thinking, ‘What the hell is this freight train with daisies?’ when Hub slammed into him. Willy went down and out, cold, covered with Hub’s daisies.
Things went black for Hub, too, due to his blind rage. When he became aware again, he was in Macey’s front yard. Willy was more dead than alive, and Hub wasn’t close to finished. Macey told him later that he had thrown Willy out the door. Actually, through her screen door and down the front steps. That was most likely where Willy’s arm was broken. His elbow probably shattered bouncing down the concrete steps. His collarbone broke with Hub’s initial impact. Hub broke Willy’s leg and adjusted his kneecap somewhere during the beating he administered in the front yard.
Macey placed the 911 call, suggesting an ambulance be sent too. Then took her sweet time putting on a robe before getting Hub off Willy. Hub hadn’t seemed interested in stopping, and Macey found herself actually protecting Willy, pleading with Hub not to kill him, at least not in front of a witness.
The officers took Macey’s statement. They took Hub’s statement. They took a statement from Mrs. Fox, who included her phone number in the event the officers wished to pass on any additional information or updates to her.
The officers agreed to let Macey bring Hub to the station for an interview. Willy was strapped to a gurney and placed in an ambulance. He eventually got out of surgery about 3:00 that morning and was listed in stable condition for the next forty-eight hours. He was hospitalized for four days before being transferred to the county jail.
By 10:00 that night, Hub had his swollen and bruised right hand wrapped around his second ice-cold beer. He had cleaned up his plate of BBQ shrimp and was doing a pretty fair job on Macey’s.
Macey was wrapping up her story about her abusive relationship with Willy, and Hub now knew she was with the County Sheriff’s Department. She wasn’t too hungry, guessing the last time she would see Hub would be about one minute after they got back to her place. That would give him just enough time to say thanks for letting him get involved in her screwed-up life before he jumped in his pickup and raced away.
She was quiet, brooding, and in the process of realizing she loved this farm boy whose apparent football skills didn’t transfer to the dance floor.
Hub felt like he could sit there and drink cold beer for the rest of the night. Damn, but he felt good as if he’d been out bailing hay all day and it was gonna rain tomorrow.
He sensed Macey was probably thinking too much, so once he finished the last of her shrimp, he said, “Look Macey.” He paused to drain the last of the beer ou
t of his bottle.
Here it comes, she thought, please not at this restaurant.
“It doesn’t really matter, this Willy bullshit. It’s pre-me, okay? Doesn’t really mean anything as far as I’m concerned. He’s probably not gonna bother you again, I would guess.”
He glanced around, trying to get the waitress’s attention, get another couple of beers in here before Macey got any more depressed or serious. “Ahhh, look, Macey, about tonight…”
Here it comes, she thought, and who can blame him? She inhaled deeply, bracing herself and biting her lower lip.
“Look, I got a pal who came down from Minnesota. He’s staying at my place. You mind if maybe we spend the night at your place? Just for tonight?”
She was stopped cold in her tracks. She exhaled audibly, releasing all the pressure she’d built up inside, waiting for his exit line.
“Wait a minute, Hub. I get you involved in all this, you could have gotten killed, and you want to go back and spend the night with me?”
“Well, yeah. You said you got a refrigerator full of beer, right? And I’m not sure,” he looked down at his split knuckles, “if I should drive back across town, let alone get myself undressed.”
She reached across the table and gave him a big hug. “You are absolutely wonderful. Let’s go,” she said.
In case Hub had any second thoughts, the smell of fresh coffee, a huge breakfast served in bed, and Macey’s red lingerie erased all doubts.
“You actually wear that thing?” Hub asked, running his eyes up and down her figure, like someone on a diet reading a dessert menu.
“Yeah, but usually never more than about 90 seconds. All my breakfast guests like it.” She giggled, pulling it off, kicking it aside, and slipping back under the sheets on top of him.
“All your breakfast guests?”