Romantic Renovations

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Romantic Renovations Page 7

by Blake Allwood


  “Honey, your father has never been that bad. He just gets a bad rep…”

  “Stop that right now, Mother. You and I both know what kind of person my father is. He has the rep,” I emphasized the word, “he’s been working on since he was a teenager. Now, you have put me in danger. Thanks for that!” I said before hanging up.

  For real, I did need to talk to an attorney now. My life was really in danger and my father was one hundred percent likely to try to kill me, especially if he thought my mom would inherit the properties or any money. What she had, he eventually had.

  It was still too early to do anything, so I went to the coffee shop down the road from the project house hoping to redeem myself after the momentary insanity I’d had when I tried to drink the instant crap earlier.

  I loved Seattle. Yeah, I’d grown up here and saw the seedier side of it when living on the streets, but even when I was homeless, I loved the fact that almost every block had a coffee house.

  I sat down at the table, drank my coffee and surfed social media, then read the news before getting frustrated and putting my phone down. I’d woken up in such a fucking great mood, now, I was circling a black hole in my mind. It seemed like my family knew just the right time to stick their thumb in my semi-healed wounds and twist until I was right back in my normal funk.

  I thought of my grandpa and shook my head. For fuck’s sake, the man intentionally sabotaged his own home and created multiple shadow corporations to keep his son, my dad, from finding out he had money. I figured he probably didn’t help us out when we were homeless for the same reason. Any sign that my grandpa had anything of value and my dad would’ve been on him like a shark with chum in the water.

  I sat in front of the project house for a good thirty minutes feeling sorry for myself until I saw Les’s rental car pull into the driveway. When he got out, I opened my door and stopped as I saw a familiar figure approach him. “Fucking, fuck, fuck!” I screamed out loud as I threw the door open and started running toward the two men.

  Frank was already drawing back to hit Les before I got far. In that instance, Les seemed to transform as his huge body twisted elegantly in midair, his foot catching Frank on the chin and sending him spiraling backward.

  Seeing Les move like that caused me to stop and stare in shock. Despite the fact I could feel myself beginning to shake, I rushed forward as I saw Frank pull a knife. Fuck, he was going to kill Les or seriously injure him. No, I couldn’t let him get hurt. The thought of Les being injured because of my relationship with Frank spurred me forward. I lunged at Frank just as his knife sliced through the air and straight into my forearm.

  I didn’t register the pain at first, all my focus was on protecting Les from Frank, a maniac that I felt responsible for exposing Les to but before I could react, Les quickly disarmed Frank, then knocked him back against the house.

  Blood flowed from my arm but Les didn’t move from his spot. Frank got up, looked at me in confusion then down at my arm. Was that expression fear or concern that crossed his face? I was too fucking angry to care. Seconds later, Frank ran away toward the back of the house.

  When it was clear Frank was gone, Les moved toward me and yanking his shirt over his head bandaged my arm with it. Without asking, he opened his phone, dialed 911 and asked for the cops and an ambulance.

  When I started to protest, Les shook his head putting an end to my complaint.

  As we waited, I asked, “How did you learn to move like that?”

  Les’s face didn’t change instead he said matter of fact, “years of Karate classes as a child.”

  Before I could react , both the cops and ambulance showed up. Les described what happened while the EMTs checked out then bandaged my arm. I confirmed what Les had told them and then refused to take the ambulance in. “I can drive myself for God’s sakes,” I complained, “it’s just a cut and you’ve stopped the bleeding!”

  The EMT shook her head and said, “No, you need to get stitches and an antibiotic to make sure it doesn’t get infected. No playing around. That’s a deep cut and it can do serious damage.”

  I nodded and assured them all I was going to head into the ER.

  The cops said they would track down Frank but that it wouldn’t do any good if I didn’t actually press charges against him.

  “I’ll press charges either way.” Les said and glanced over at me with a cool expression. I’m not sure why that got under my skin like it did. I had no intention of letting Frank get away with attacking us, did he just assume that I would?

  I left the cops and Les standing where they were, got into my car and drove off. Les called to me before I shut my car door, but I ignored him and drove over to the old hospital’s emergency entrance. I was lucky enough to find a parking spot in the garage and only had to walk a short way to the waiting room. Because it was still early morning, I went in pretty much straight away and the ER doc recleaned the wound and put the stitches in. She warned me to take it easy while the healing process took place. A nurse came in to clean me up and afterward I got a tetanus booster. As I was discharged, the doc gave me a strong warning about how important it was to take the antibiotics they were giving me: “If the knife was dirty, it can cause you some serious issues.”

  “Yeah I got it.” My sour attitude stained everything and everyone around me.

  I got the prescription filled and noticed the letter I’d addressed to the warden sitting in the passenger seat, so I stopped at the post office to send it off. You may be able to wreck my day, Dad, but I can return the fucking favor. I thought as I drove away.

  I went back home where just a few hours ago I’d been happy, even jovial. I took my phone out and saw I had three calls from Les, one from my producer, and one from the cops. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to any of them, so I tossed it on the countertop and went to my room, stripping as I went.

  I fell asleep almost the moment my head hit the pillow. At first, the knocking on my door felt like it was part of a dream. But it persisted until I heard the neighbors screaming for whoever it was to knock it off.

  I crawled out of bed, looked at the clock and cursed, realizing it was five in the afternoon. I peered through my peep hole, hoping to God it wasn’t my mom or Frank and luckily it wasn’t, but I wasn’t that thrilled to discover that it was Les either…

  “Why are you here, Les?” I asked after opening the door.

  “Someone needed to check on you, especially since you didn’t answer your damned phone or any of the texts I sent.”

  “I’m not in the mood to talk, get the hint.” I said and closed the door in his face.

  Les banged on my door again and the neighbor yelled he was gonna start shooting if the knocking didn’t stop. “Fuck,” I said as I threw the door open causing my injury to smart in the process.

  “Les, leave me the fuck alone. I’m tired, I’m injured,” I pointed toward my arm, “and I’m in a fucking bad mood.”

  He ignored me and came into my apartment and shut the door behind him.

  “Sure, come on in. I’m nothing but a fucking wuss anyway right, so you might as well do as you please.”

  I’d had about all of this day I could handle, and I just wanted to be asleep. Walking toward the bedroom I left Les standing inside the door.

  I tore my shorts off and made a beeline to my bedroom hoping that Les would get the hint and leave me the fuck alone.

  Luckily, I managed to fall back to sleep but I’m not sure how long I slept before I was woken by the smell of frying food. Was that hamburgers?

  I tried to ignore it, not at all interested in Mr. Les Cooper the nice guy. Unfortunately, my stomach began growling. Fuck it, I could lie here and be miserable.

  Maybe ten minutes later, when the smell was about to drive my empty stomach mad, Les came in with a plate filled with potato chips and a hamburger on the side.

  He sat the plate down next to me and scooted up onto the empty side of the bed.

  “You still mad at me?” he asked.<
br />
  I picked up a chip and stuck it in my mouth. While I chewed, I gave the man as angry a look as I could.

  “Okay, that’s a yes,” he muttered. “Wanna talk about it?”

  I stopped chewing and just stared at him.

  “That’s a no. See we’re making progress here.”

  I swallowed and said, “Les, you should leave.”

  “No, you’re my partner, and I’m not leaving my partner hanging. Besides, I had to go to hell and back just to get your address. You’d think I was some kind of serial killer with all the hoops I had to jump through to convince the network to give it to me.”

  I popped another chip in my mouth and said with my mouth full. “Remind me to sue them in the morning.”

  Les chuckled, “I think at the moment they’re concerned you are gonna sue them over this morning’s run in with Frank.”

  I pushed the plate away, my appetite completely gone and rolled over onto my good arm’s side. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

  Les got off the bed and came to my side, knelt down in front of me and said, “I’m sorry buddy. I fucked up and Frank really fucked up, but don’t let it get to you.”

  I turned away from him and stared up at the ceiling. “It’s not just this morning, it’s everything… today I got a threatening letter from my incarcerated father, who isn’t supposed to contact me for any reason, my mom gave him information she wasn’t supposed to and defended him when I confronted her, then I show up at the job site and see Frank rushing you and you doing some Kung Fu shit, then come up just in time to get slashed with the idiot’s dull ass knife which I’m at least thankful for. If it hadn’t been dull, I’d probably have had to have more than ten damned stitches. Then...and buddy, this is my favorite part, you decided you’re gonna press charges and make it out like I’m not, without even getting my opinion, you and your cop buddy were sitting there assuming I was going to play the battered boyfriend and let that son of a bitch get away with this shit again.”

  I leaned up on my elbow, looked Les in the eye and said, “Of all the shit that went down today, the part where you thought I was gonna pick up the victim card again, that was the worst. All the other fuckers had let me down time and again, but for you to do it, and when you barely know me… dude, I really wish you’d just leave.”

  Les sat back on his haunches and out of the corner of my eye I could see him regarding me.

  “I’ll go, if that’s what you want. But not before I say this: you’re right, I thought you might chicken out about pressing charges against that nutsack but it didn’t have anything to do with you being a victim or a battered boyfriend. It’s ‘cause I know how the network puts pressure on you to let things go. I assumed wrongly that you might roll over to keep the network happy.”

  I turned to face him, and when he looked me straight in the eye. I was sure he was being honest. “I don’t think it matters. I’m tired and apparently cursed.”

  “No way, dude. You can’t argue that people are treating you like a victim then start talking like one. You’re not cursed, you just have shit for parents. It happens to a lot of folks, but I can tell you this: my folks think you’re the best thing since Pope Francis became the pope. I think they like you more than me after all the praises they were heaping on you all night last night.”

  “Stop trying to make me feel better, Les. I’m trying to feel sorry for myself, and you’re really putting a crux on it.”

  Les chuckled. “Good. As your partner, kicking your ass when you need it is in the job description.”

  “I wanna talk to that agent of yours and get a new job description written up.”

  “Not until this one is done,” he chuckled. “Now eat that burger, I had to go into the store of the living dead to buy that meat.”

  I couldn’t help but smile a bit at that, somehow even when I was pissed Les managed to brighten my mood. “Our local grocery is a lot like shopping during the zombie apocalypse. Okay, I’ll give you a little leeway because you cooked me a burger, but I’m still mad at you.”

  Les smiled that adorable little boy all innocent smile and I immediately squinted my eyes. I leaned up and grabbed the burger and took a bite. I hadn’t noticed the blanket had slipped down and my hip was exposed until I saw Les’ eyes move from my hip and back up to my face.

  All the blood instantly rushed from my face down to my groin. I swallowed the burger half eaten as Les leaned in toward me.

  I put my hand up to stop him, which honest to God had to be the hardest thing I’d ever done in my life.

  “We can’t, Les.”

  He stopped right in front of my mouth, looked down at it, and licked his lips. “What if we just do a little tiny kiss? Nobody has to know.”

  I almost choked and thanked God the hamburger was swallowed. “I’ll know.” I said.

  Les pulled back, which appeared to have cost him, making me feel just a little better that I wasn’t the only one suffering here.

  He lifted off his knees, stood up, and walked toward the door. When he turned around, he had a huge smile on his face. “I will kiss those lips of yours, Bennett Jackson. It might have to be after we are no longer working together, but God help me, I’m going to taste those lips of yours or…” He frowned, showing genuine sadness. “…I may never get over the loss of it.” He walked out of my room, and down the hall. “I’m gonna clean up in here then I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’ll do it.”

  No way in hell was I gonna fall asleep anytime soon anyway.

  He hesitated for a moment then he yelled, “Suit yourself, but come lock this door. Your neighborhood is scarier than shit!”

  I chuckled. “Yes, Daddy!” I yelled out and I heard a moan come from him. Note to self, he liked being called “Daddy.”

  Fuck that, erase that note. It didn’t matter what he liked being called, this couldn’t… no, wouldn’t happen. My real father wanted to kill me, and would likely try soon enough, maybe even hire someone to do it, and my ex-best friend kept trying to kill me as well. No, I had enough drama in my life. Adding the superstar hunk to the equation was an absolute no.

  But God… that didn’t mean I couldn’t fantasize about him.

  Les

  Jesus H. Christ! I can’t be going over to his place, seeing that beautiful body of his unclothed, and not put my hands on it.

  I’d been working on convincing myself I wasn’t attracted to Bennett Jackson; in fact, I’d been mad as I could be when I heard I had to finish my contract, but the minute I laid eyes on the man, I’d been blown away with infatuation. His slight build with delicate muscles that ever so often rippled under his shirt…oh, and his skin, I was sure the soft texture would be like silk to the touch. His eyes were accentuated by long eye lashes that were as dark as if he’d used mascara on them but they were all natural, as far as I could tell there was little pretense to Bennett Jackson.

  He wasn’t effeminate exactly. He was all guy, but there were elements of him that were beautiful and so elegant that they might’ve been better appreciated on a female model.

  He was mad as a hornet tonight. I could sense it through the door, but I’d be damned if I were going to let him pout by himself. Everyone was searching for him. The cops, the network, me. No one could find him, so I’d pulled every string I could until I was able to convince our producer to give me his address.

  Here’s a shock: why would a guy that owned more homes in Seattle than Amazon live in a run-down old apartment in the middle of Creepville?

  Regardless of where he lived, he was barred up in his room and when I didn’t relent, he came out ready to kill. Luckily, when he saw me, he’d just turned around and gone back inside again. I followed him, saw that cute ass of his when he pulled off his shorts and almost lost all control right then and there. God, that ass would be a thing of my fantasies for the rest of my life. I should’ve been worried about him but the second he stripped down, all I could think of was ru
nning my tongue over that perfect little crease.

  I needed to get my head on straight, so I went into his kitchen to try to figure out what to make for him. Not a damned thing was in his kitchen. Not even a piece of stale bread or a carton of spoiled milk. Even the bachelors I used to live with in college had those things.

  What he had plenty of though was soda. “Damn man, you really are worse than my frat brothers.” I said to no one in particular.

  I went back out, leaving his door unlocked and praying he wouldn’t have someone mug or burglarize him while I was gone. In the absolute scariest grocery store I’d ever shopped at, I got some hamburger meat, buns, lettuce, pickles, mustard, ketchup, and mayo and went back to his apartment to fix him something to eat.

  I cursed my mom for being so fucking efficient and my dad for being so pushy to have me helping him whenever I had free time ‘cause a hamburger or frozen pizza was about the extent of my abilities in the kitchen.

  I did manage to find a bag of chips. They were probably expired but I didn’t dare look at the date for fear of having to toss it and I had forgotten to get anything to go with the burger.

  I dumped the chips on the plate and went in for the kill. I could tell he was awake, since the growing noises his stomach was making gave him away almost immediately. I put the plate next to him and climbed onto the bed. I knew I’d made a mistake the second I did, because I could smell the clean musky scent of him lying in his bed and I could see his body’s form under the cover and even though-as God is my witness-I tried not to look, I could see the slight outline of his cock. I knew I was headed straight to hell, but I couldn’t quite take my eyes off the mound that protruded from him there. I finally tore my eyes away and got him to take a bite. His anger had subsided with his hunger, and I managed to smooth things over by explaining I didn’t see him as a victim but as someone wanting to avoid making our network upset. I didn’t know him well, but things were becoming clear just how difficult his life had been.

  I had just managed to get my ass of a libido under control when he turned over and the blanket opened along his perfect thigh and long tapered leg. I all but swallowed my tongue as my eyes followed the contours of his exposed body all the way up to his luscious lips.

 

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