Make Me Bad

by Grey, R. S.

  It doesn’t work. She laughs and shakes her head, walking over to open the spare fridge.

  “We needed more soda.”

  Ben steps forward and takes the cases from her. “Here, I got it.”

  Then he just walks out! With the soda! Without me!

  What about pounding me on top of Andy’s bicycle?! I thought we’d do that next!

  “So you really held out there for a while, huh?” Arianna taunts as we walk back into the house side by side.

  “He’s very convincing!” I cry. “Have you seen his hands? They were touching my boobs. What did you want me to do?”

  She throws her arm over my shoulder as she leads me toward the bathroom so I can clean myself up a little. When I’m finished, we commiserate together on our way to the kitchen. Apparently, Andy hasn’t told her why they were late either, but as it turns out, we’re about to get the full story.

  “Babe, I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Andy cries as soon as he spots Arianna and me chatting in the kitchen. He sounds relieved and immediately walks up for a kiss, but she stiff-arms him.

  “Uh huh. I’ve just been here,” Arianna continues, “at your party, talking to your guests.”

  Andy presses his hands together in prayer. His brows are pleading with her to understand. “Arianna, sweet Arianna—don’t you know what I was doing?” He points to me suddenly and theatrically. “I was saving Madison from certain doom! Tell them, Ben!” he says, eyes wide, tone dramatic. “Tell them what we were doing!”

  Ben’s behind him now, holding up two drinks. I left mine in the garage so I happily accept his spare as he comes around to pass it off and tug me against him. Apparently, Ben’s into PDA. I’m all too happy to oblige. His finger hooks in my belt loop just as Andy prods him again.

  “Ben! Help me out here, man!”

  I glance up to him. “You were saving me from certain doom, huh?”

  He shakes his head. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Don’t listen to him. He’s being modest! Ben was going to confront hardened criminals to get facts about that guy who nearly shot you a few months ago, Madison!” He’s talking animatedly now, his hands flying everywhere.

  “I don’t think he was going to shoot me—”

  My interruption goes ignored as Andy continues, “Arianna, Ben dragged me out of this house and forced me to participate in this wild mission! I wanted to be here with you! I can’t stand to be away from you for a single second. You know that.”

  Oh my god. I can barely believe what I’m hearing. I want to burst out laughing, but when I glance over, Arianna’s eyes are melting pools of love. Wow. She’s buying this. They’re perfect for each other.

  I look up at Ben, tone hard and unaffected. “What really happened?”

  He sips his drink and shrugs. “I wanted to go see if anyone at Murphy’s had information about the incident. Turns out, there was no need. Your brother had already found the guy.”

  I nearly drop my drink. “What? Are you serious?”

  He tightens his grip on me. “They arrested him.”

  It’s a staggering feeling, truly. I’m thrust right back to that night, one I’ve tried hard to pretend never happened. In some ways, my life continued on as normal. I didn’t stop walking home from the library. I brushed aside my family’s concerns on the matter, but sometimes, in bed at night, I’d still find myself YouTubing self-defense moves. I bought a can of pepper spray off Amazon and connected it to my keys. I looked over my shoulder more often than I did before, always aware that the person who attacked me might have the urge to do it again.

  In some ways, I felt silly and paranoid. I didn’t want to wave the victim card and make the whole thing seem more dramatic than it was. I didn’t get hurt. He didn’t do anything to me, really. Now, I realize I was completely deluding myself. He did hurt me. Just because that trigger wasn’t pulled doesn’t mean his attack didn’t affect me. Now, I realize just how much relief comes with the knowledge that they caught him.

  I need to sit down.

  I turn for the dining room behind the kitchen and pull out a chair. Ben follows, concerned. I wave him off as I take a seat, unsure what words will come out if I speak.

  “They’ll probably have you go down to the station.”

  I nod, eyes focused on the woodgrain of the table.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Madison? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m relieved. I just don’t think I want to go down there. I don’t want to have to see him.”

  Ben sits down in the chair beside mine, leans over, and takes my hands. “He won’t hurt you again.”

  I sit quietly for a few moments, working through all the conflicting emotions starting to bubble up inside me. “Is it strange that I kind of feel bad for him?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to go down there and identify him and put him in jail. I don’t want to be the reason he’s there.”

  “He did something wrong. You’re in no way to blame.”

  To Ben, this is black and white.

  “Right, but why’d he do it? Do we know yet? Maybe he really needed money. Maybe he was—”

  “Colten arrested his brother last year. Apparently, this guy wanted to get revenge. You were an easy target.”

  “Oh…”

  I don’t have to look over to know his eyebrows are furrowed, his mouth tugged in a hard line. “You still feel guilty, don’t you? Why?”

  “It’s hard to explain.”

  He murmurs under his breath and I know I’m making him angry. It’s a hard concept to explain to someone.

  Suddenly, he stands, taking me with him. “Let’s go down to the station now. I bet Colten’s still there.”

  “What about Andy’s party?”

  When we look over, Andy and Arianna are hardcore making out against the kitchen island. Andy is moaning against her mouth. Cups are clattering to the floor behind them.

  “Baby, I’m so sorry I upset you,” he says hungrily.

  Arianna is fisting his shirt.

  Oh jeez. I cover my eyes.

  They’re about to do it right there, in the middle of the party. I really hope her brother is still in the back yard.

  Ben laughs. “Yeah, they won’t miss us. C’mon.”

  I don’t fully understand Ben’s motives as we arrive at the police station and an officer directs us back to Colten’s desk. We find my brother sitting there with a day’s worth of stubble and three cups of coffee spread out across a mountain of paperwork. He looks exhausted.

  “Madison,” he says, relieved when he glances up and sees us approaching. “I was just about to call you.”

  I nod and glance over at Ben. What are we doing here? I don’t want to see the guy. I definitely don’t want to have to speak to him or anything. I know that makes me a wimp, but I’d rather go my entire life without having to confront him.

  “I told Madison what happened,” Ben explains to Colten. “And I think she should see this guy’s criminal history.”

  My stomach drops.

  “What? Why?” I ask.

  “Because you feel guilty that he’ll be put away for this one thing he did to you, like it’s not bad enough, but what if that’s not all he’s done?”

  Colten snorts and shakes his head. “Give me a second.”

  He types something on his computer, clicks around, types some more, and then swivels his monitor so we can see it. Scrolling fast, it still takes him a while to make it through this guy’s entire criminal history. Random words jump out at me: grand larceny, second degree felony, aggravated assault and battery.

  Good lord.

  It’s hard to catch my breath.

  I really thought he wouldn’t hurt me! I really thought he had just fallen on hard times or…Jesus! I’m so naive!

  What if Ben hadn’t been there?!

  “Feel better now?” Colten asks. “This guy’s been causin
g trouble for years, Maddie. You don’t have to feel bad. Hell, we’ve had a warrant out for his arrest for the last few months, just haven’t been able to track him down. The bartender at Murphy’s tipped us off. If he hadn’t, your guy would still probably be out there.”

  I’m fired up. Any guilt I felt before has now been set to flames. The ashes have formed a war paint I’ll use beneath my eyes.

  “Where is he?” I ask, determined. “I’m going to punch him! How dare he put a gun to my head?!”

  Colten smiles. “He’s back in the holding cell.”

  I cross my arms. “Great, well you just go get him so I can give him a piece of my mind.”

  Ben and Colten exchange an amused look. “Yeah, that’s not really how it works.”

  “Well it does now. Where are your keys? I’ll do it myself.”

  Colten turns back to Ben. “You got this?”

  “Yeah. We’ll be back when you need us. Tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, that’d be great.”

  They’re talking and blabbering on, meanwhile I’m searching high and low on Colten’s desk for his keys. I shuffle papers. Where does he keep the damn things? On his holster? I’ll just take that too. Oh, look, there’s his gun—even better.

  Big hands wrap around my waist and I’m hauled up and over Ben’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

  “Hey! Wait! No!”

  “See ya, Colt.”

  “Bye, Ben.”

  “Oh, okay, I see, you two are best friends now?” I ask, dangling upside down. Ben’s beautiful butt is right in front of my face. I poke it to be sure he’s listening to me. “Hey, you, put me down.”

  He doesn’t put me down.

  He carries me right to his car and plops me down on the seat. Then he buckles me in nice and safe.

  “I hate you.”

  He bends low to give me a kiss. “I love you. Should we go back to the party now?”

  22

  Ben

  Two months later

  Today’s a big day for me.

  A day I’ve been counting down to with mixed emotions.

  A day I’m not sure Madison is aware of.

  This morning, she seemed perfectly happy. We ate first and second breakfast in my bed. I checked work emails on my laptop, propped up against pillows while she watched an episode of a PBS miniseries. She records a bunch of stuff at my house since she doesn’t have a TV at her apartment. It’s all stuff I’d never even heard of before her: Downton Abbey, Poldark. If it doesn’t take place at least a hundred years ago, she’s not into it. I watched a little of the show this morning, but mostly I watched her watching it. She smiled whenever the handsome guy walked on screen. She really has a thing for men in old-timey outfits.

  She caught me staring and held up her mug, waving it as if to say, Refill this for me, would you?

  When I refused to get out of the warm bed, she just stole mine, sipping it slowly as she leaned against my chest. When I tried to get it back, she tsked and pulled it out of my reach. So, I guess things are getting pretty comfortable with us. She’s been staying over a few nights a week, when I can persuade her. I had to start slow, compromising with just one night. That slowly morphed into two, then three. I can’t believe she ever wants to sleep in that apartment on that futon—which, by the way, is broken now. We had sex on it last weekend and one of the screws came loose. Seconds into her losing herself to a toe-curling orgasm, we both tumbled to the ground in a heap of writhing, naked limbs. I found the screw, but I lied and said I didn’t. It’s part of my master plan to get her to move in with me. On my way out that day, I also stole her coffee pot. The less amenities she has, the sooner she’ll come crawling to me, begging to move in. It’s a pretty solid plan, if you ask me.

  After her show ended this morning, we finally decided to get out of bed, but then I caught a little glimpse of her butt sticking out of her pajama shorts. Just one peek at her curves and I yanked her right back down, throwing the covers over us so there was no possible hope for her to escape.

  “We’ll be late!” she protested as I slid down her body, taking her shorts and panties off on my descent.

  Turns out, she was wrong. I can be very efficient when I need to be.

  Now, we’re up at the library in the storage room grabbing a few last-minute things for story time.

  Madison’s partially hidden behind a row of boxes, digging for a stuffed penguin she says the kids will love, when I finally announce why today is so important.

  “This is my last day volunteering here.”

  “I can’t hear you.”

  I smirk. It’s dead quiet in this room. She heard me just fine.

  “Madison…”

  She pokes her head around the edge of the box and narrows her eyes. “What?”

  “I’ve completed all my mandated hours.”

  “Oh.” She looks down at the floor. “That’s great, Ben.”

  “You sound sad.”

  Her bright green eyes jump back to me. “I do? How’s this?” She forces a smile and raises her voice a few octaves with her second try. “That’s great, Ben!”

  “Madison…you knew this was coming. You’ve been signing off on my volunteer hours every week.”

  “I know, but…” Her finger traces the edge of the box. Guilt laces her next few words. “I’ve been shaving off hours here and there as a way to keep you here longer.” I already know this. I look at the form she signs and it’s blatantly obvious. I should have finished volunteering over a month ago. “I was even thinking of telling Judge Mathers I didn’t think you had really reformed yourself. I was going to ask that another 100 hours be added to your sentence.”

  She’s crazy. I love her.

  I tilt my head, studying her. She has that damn stuffed penguin in her hand now. She’s toying with it, flapping its wings. She looks so sad, and my heart breaks a little.

  “Eli is going to take over for me, right? And he’s probably much better at this stuff than I am. Most of the time I just linger in the back of the room while you lead everything.”

  “Yeah, but Eli doesn’t make out with me in here before the toddlers show up.”

  At this, her bottom lip juts out.

  “Well, if you ask him, I bet he would,” I say, deadpan. “He seems like an understanding guy.”

  She throws her hands up in annoyance. The penguin hits the ceiling. “Okay, fine. If you must know, it just felt like this was one reason you had to spend time with me every week. I knew no matter what, you’d have to show up here on Saturdays to volunteer with me.”

  “Right, but we’re dating now. I see you nearly every day.”

  “Yeah, but we’re probably only together because I’m your hot volunteer coordinator. You get off on the fact that it’s forbidden.”

  “It is in no way forbidden for me to date you.”

  “Then if it isn’t that, it’s the hot librarian thing. Look at me! I’m sex on a stick!”

  She’s wearing a sunflower yellow dress. No makeup. Her rich brown hair is nothing short of wild.

  She’s fucking gorgeous.

  I decide to push something I’ve been tiptoeing around for weeks.

  “You’re right. It’s not enough, what we have right now. I want more.”

  Her eyes light up. “So you’ll keep volunteering here?”

  No. I need to carve out some time on Saturday mornings to get stuff done at the office, but it should work out well. I’ll work while she’s here, doing story time, then I’ll swing by to pick her up when I’m done. We’ll spend our afternoons at the park, making out, scarring the children.

  “Move in with me.” I say it solidly. It’s like I’ve just plucked up all her stuff and dumped it in my house then wiped my hands clean.

  “Move in with you,” she repeats with no inflection.

  “Yes.”

  Her eyes narrow shrewdly. “And what would that entail, exactly?”

  “Oh, a key to the place, TV privileges, half the bed—maybe a litt
le less ’cause you know I get cold at night. Some drawers in the closet, I don’t know, however many you want. You can rearrange the kitchen, too, if you don’t like how everything is set up. It definitely could use a woman’s touch.”

  She rears back like she’s offended. “So you’re saying my place is in the kitchen?”

  “This feels like a trick question.”

  She shrugs and drops the act. “You’re right. I’m stalling. Moving in is a big deal. I’ll get mail with my name on it at your house.”

  Seems trivial…

  “Sure.”

  She’s using her hands now as if trying to outline a complicated equation. “Items I purchase online will show up at your door. For me. There.”

  “Yes, that’s how the postal system works.”

  She shakes her head in disbelief. “Wild.”

  I tilt my head, amused. “Is it just about the mail? ’Cause you could just get a PO box if a change of address is freaking you out this much.”

  “I don’t know…probably 50% about the mail and 50% about how this is a really big step in our relationship.”

  “Seems completely reasonable. Do you want me to stop the mailman today and see if he can walk us through the procedure? Change of address, that sort of thing?”

  “What?!” Her eyes are huge. “Oh my god, you can’t just initiate something like that. I haven’t even said yes. No, don’t—and don’t smile at me like you think I’m funny.”

  She’s striding toward me now, finger wagging.

  “I’m not.”

  “You’re grinning. It’s ear to ear. Any bigger and your cheeks will split.”

  “I’d wipe it away if I could.”

  Truly, I can’t.

  She’s right in front of me now, hands on hips. “Try.”

  “There. Is it gone?”

  “No, and now with your dimple, I’m going to faint. I’ve got to cover it up. There.” Her hand covers my right cheek. “You’re not even remotely as handsome as you were just a second ago.”

  I stare down at her big green eyes and wonder how I managed to find such a weirdo to fall in love with. “The children are waiting for us,” I say, reminding us both.