by Louise, Tia
“Everybody needs money.”
“So last time, you gave me growth hormone when I thought I was getting supplements.”
“It wasn’t my idea.”
“But that’s what happened, right?”
He nods, and my jaw grinds. Nods don’t pick up on audio, and the camera isn’t on him. “What’s that? Are you nodding?”
“Yes. Hurry up.”
“I want to be in on it for real. Last time I didn’t know anything about what was going on…”
He doesn’t answer, but I wait. “What?” He’s impatient. I want him impatient.
“You knew that, right?”
“What?” He frowns harder.
“I didn’t know you gave me HGH last time.”
“Why would I tell you we were using you as a mule? You’d have been shitting your pants the whole way home. You’d have been busted at the first mile marker.”
“I would’ve said no.” I smile, but my voice is level. “I didn’t deal drugs.”
“Right, you were Mr. Straight-A, Captain of the football team—”
“I didn’t know anything about the drugs you planted in my car.”
“You already said that.” His voice rises. “Why do you keep repeating it?”
“It’s important to me to know you know.”
“Of course, I know.” He leans across the table. “You say you’re not a square anymore, but I’m not buying it. Taking a chance with you is a good way to get killed, and I’m not getting killed for you.”
I slide out of my seat, picking up my phone. “You know what, I think you’re right, Clyde Shaw. I don’t think I’ll fit into your drug ring after all.”
“That’s what I said, asshole. So quit wasting my time.”
“You’re Clyde Shaw.”
He stands and narrows his eyes, mocking me. “Yes, Hero-man. I’m fucking Clyde Shaw, and I run this town. Now beat it. I’d better not see your face again.”
I slip my phone into my pocket, praying to God I don’t delete this recording. I won’t get another chance.
“You won’t see me. You’ll hear from my lawyer.”
Turning, I stride to the front of the shop fast as he yells after me. Once I’m through the double glass doors, I take off jogging, cutting a quick left down an alley in case he’s chasing me, and pressing my back to the wall. I whip off my mask, breathing hard, and my fingers tremble as I search for the video recording.
It’s in my photos, a long one. I draw it up and hit the red button, and immediately it starts to play back…
I don’t have much time.
You’ve got time for me. Clyde Shaw, right?
Yes, that’s my name…
“Ha!” I shout, pumping my fist.
I fucking got it, the evidence I need to get my conviction overturned. I’ve got to get this to my lawyer. I don’t bother trying to text, I hit his number.
“Yo.” My brother is too relaxed for how I’m feeling.
“I got it.”
“Fuck, yeah, you did!” He shouts. “Send it to me!”
“How the hell do I do that?”
He quickly talks me through the steps of sending a video via text, but it bounces back red. “It says the file’s too big.”
“Shit.” Scout’s teeth are gritted. “Shit shit shit.”
My stomach is in my throat. “What?”
We’re too close for fuckups.
“Do you have access to a computer? You’re going to have to hardwire and email it.”
“How would I have access to a computer?” A bead of sweat runs down my torso, and my throat constricts. “Scout…”
“It’s good. It’s all good. The video is fine. It’s only your phone until you can send it to me. Maybe you could go to the library?”
“I don’t know where there’s a library—”
“You know what? Let’s don’t sweat it.” I hear him smiling, and my tension eases a notch. “You got it. That’s the most important thing. Now, just don’t let anything happen to your phone until you talk to your lawyer.”
Rolling my shoulders, I look up at the sky. This fucking tension is too much. “I can do that. I only use this thing to call you and Jesse.”
“You’re almost free, bro.” The ease in his voice helps me breathe. “We’ve just got to get that confession to your lawyer and clear your name.”
Hearing those words is like a rush of warm water on my insides. “I’m going to beat this.”
“Yeah, you are. Then we’re going to find Hope.”
Scrubbing my fingers on my eyelids, I exhale a loose laugh. “One step at a time.”
We disconnect, and I’m walking fast in the direction of my apartment. I’m so full of adrenaline and gratitude and anticipation, I’m never going to sleep. The sun is dropping towards the horizon, and I feel so good, so full of hope.
Hope.
Digging in my pocket, I pull out the metro card. The bus doesn’t go to her beach house, but it gets close. I’ve got to try one more time…
Hope
I park Metallicar on the street in Cannery Row.
I’ve never been to Monterey, but a little quick research last night told me this part of town is a hot spot for young families and tourists. It’s where the aquarium is located and some specialty shops.
It’s not high tourist time, but a few sets of what look like parents and kids are walking along the sidewalk towards an elevated walkway. It’s beige and has Cannery Row Company painted in huge white letters on a maroon background.
A little more research before I got on the road this morning told me the area is named after a John Steinbeck novel called Cannery Row, and I was immediately plunged into a memory of being on the road, Scout explaining to me the history of their names… John Steinbeck and Phillip Roth… John Roth…
God, that feels so long ago. The ache in my chest tells me it’s only been a month, but thinking about those few days, the sun on our faces and the wind in our hair. Did it really happen?
Resting my forehead on the steering wheel, I wonder how long it will take before I stop aching for him, before I stop wondering where he is and what he’s doing.
It’s been four long weeks since I saw him, kissed him, traced my fingers along the lines of his torso. I can still see his dark hair pushing around his temples in the wind. I can still feel the press of his lips against mine. At night, when I’m sleeping, I can still feel the weight of his body holding me down in the most delicious way.
I’ll never forget his scent of soap and sweat, the salty taste of his skin on my tongue. He took me like I always wanted to be taken, like a steak dinner after a forty-day fast, water after a three-day walk in the desert. Like he couldn’t get enough, and all he wanted was me.
Heat is in my belly, and a tear is on my cheek.
I shove it away. Snap out of it, Hope.
Fate has dropped this amazing second chance in my lap, and I can’t squander it. Few people get a second chance like this, and I have to explore the area and see if I can find a good location to open a family-friendly restaurant where patrons can let their creativity flow.
I have to get my head back in the game, and my brain back on my dream.
Four hours later, the sun is setting, and I’m walking to Metallicar only partially satisfied with my afternoon exploring.
The buildings are historically beautiful, navy and maroon board with white wooden porches and green awnings. The alleys are wide, and I can imagine tucking Pancake Paradise into one of them with a folding sign out on the main walk sending visitors my way.
Still, I’m not getting that click. Dad said I would know the change was right when I felt the peace in my heart, the feeling of satisfaction.
I felt it in the Embarcadero. San Francisco was my home, so perhaps that’s why it seemed so natural to me.
This place is strange. It’s beautiful, small with a gorgeous coast and an absolute built-in clientele. It just doesn’t feel like home.
A bit discourag
ed, I park the car outside the beach shack. The night has turned hazy and cold, pretty typical for late summer in San Francisco, and I walk inside the empty place, dropping my keys on the counter and going to the closet.
My teddy bear coat hangs on a peg, and I take it off, walking outside to try and see the stars. I’ll be lucky if I see anything tonight.
Tonight I’m on my own, and the loneliness weighs heavy on my shoulders.
I know they’re up there. I know if the fog rolls away, I’ll see them looking down on me just like Dad said. Holding my phone in my hand, I can’t call him again. I’ll only make him worry, and I have to be an adult now. I have to stand on my own two feet and face these times of loneliness.
I have to believe this too shall pass…
A drop of rain touches my cheek, and I close my eyes, allowing a tear to join it. It’s so poetic for the rain to fall at this point in my story. The darkest night, the fog, the cold rain…
I’m gearing up to feel very sorry for myself when a low creak echoes from the other side of the house. A thump on the boards, and my eyes fly open. My heart skips like a rabbit.
Shit… Someone’s here!
The bad thing about being in the beach cottage is the same as the good thing—I’m so far out here on the beach highway alone, anything could happen.
I can’t breathe. Fishing out my phone, I unlock the screen quickly and press the two buttons to call 911.
Backing slowly along the rail of the balcony, I make my way towards the wooden staircase leading down to the beach. It’s a long, winding descent, but I know it better than any burglar. I can be away from danger in thirty seconds or less.
“Hello?” A low male voice stops me in my tracks, freezing me to the spot.
“911, what’s your emergency?” A higher, female voice cuts through the swish of the waves far below, the push of the wind around my ears, the soft cry of seagulls.
“Hello?” I call back, straining my eyes in the darkness.
The voice sounded familiar, almost like…
Spotlights on the corners of the house point away from where I stand, leaving me dazzled by their light, and concealed in the darkness.
“Hope? Is that you?” The deep, rich voice is like warm caramel in my veins.
“John?” It’s a hushed whisper, a prayer. My entire body is tight.
I hear him before I see him. I hear the heavy thump of his feet on the wooden boardwalk, and his silhouette appears, outlined in the beam of the spotlight.
“You’re here!” I cry.
“Where have you been?” Relief is in his voice, almost like he can’t believe he found me on the back porch of my family’s home.
“Monterey?”
Instantly, I’m surrounded by his strong arms, sweeping me up in a hug against his hard body. I never even saw him move. Of course, my eyes are flooded with tears. My hands grasp and cling to his shirt, to his body. My mouth searches for anything, kissing his neck, his jaw, until finally our mouths collide.
He shoves my lips apart, and our tongues entwine as I exhale a noise of gratitude and deep satisfaction. Strong hands grip my ass, and my legs wrap around his waist as he lifts me.
I grasp at his cheeks. I slide my fingers into his soft hair. He’s my water in the desert, cool ice cream on a hot summer day…
Our kisses taste like the salt of my tears. I laugh and cry, holding his face as I pull his lips with mine. Our teeth clink together, and I realize we’re both smiling. We’re desperate and devouring. We’re together again at last.
“God, I’ve missed you so much.” His voice breaks in a way that thrills me to my core.
“You missed me?”
He lowers me to my feet, and my eyes have adjusted, I can see him in the hazy darkness. His lowered brow, his chiseled jaw, his perfectly defined lips parted over straight, white teeth. He’s such a work of art.
“I’ve missed you more than I’ve ever missed anything.”
Shaking my head, I blink up at him. “But you said—”
“Hello? Is this an emergency?” My phone is in my hand, and I snap out of the joy of reunion to realize I still have 911 on the line.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” I hold my hair back, and JR moves around behind me.
His hands slide around my waist, before he wraps muscled arms like steel bands around my body, pulling me against him.
My breath disappears. “It’s not an emergency,” I manage.
“Sounds like it’s not.” The lady on the line has a laugh in her voice, and I close my eyes as warm lips close against the side of my neck. “Have a good night, Miss.”
I intend to do just that. Hitting the end button, I turn in his arms to find his mouth. I’m off my feet again, only this time he’s walking, carrying me inside the house.
Once we’re through the door, he lowers me to my feet, and I take his hand, leading him down the short hall to my bedroom. I’m not wasting any time.
The room is open, with a balcony that overlooks the beach. It’s too cold to open the doors, but it creates a shushing ambiance in the air around us.
Lust and need drive us. JR’s strong hands are on my hips, moving under my thin sweater and lifting it over my head, leaving me in a white lace bra that just covers the bottom half of my breasts.
He exhales a groan. “You’re so beautiful.”
A flash of need shoots to my heated core, and my fingers circle the buttons of his shirt, quickly unfastening them, doing my best not to rip his clothes off. The fabric falls open, and I slide my palms along the planes and ridges of his lined torso.
“I was afraid I’d never see you again.” Leaning forward, I trace my lips along his skin.
He’s here.
He came to me.
My eyes close as heat rushes through my chest.
Large hands cup my cheeks, lifting my face and tilting it so he can devour my mouth. My lips part willingly, hungry for his kisses, his possessive touch.
His hands leave my cheeks and circle my back, unfastening my bra. As it falls away, a whisper of cool air hardens my nipples. His hands cover them, tweaking the tips, sending sparkling waves of energy between my thighs.
“John.” My head falls back with a moan.
He lifts me off my feet, carrying me to the bed. With a toss, I fall back, laughing at his Tarzan style. He shoves his jeans down, and I do the same, tossing them across the room as I lick my lips.
I gaze at his thick, hardened cock, and his voice is rough. “The way you look at me… It makes me want to do very bad things to you.”
Dragging my eyes up his Adonis body, I meet his smoldering eyes. “Please do very bad things to me.”
The smolder turns to blue fire, and he catches my ankle, dragging me towards him on the bed and flipping me onto my stomach.
My stomach jumps, and he slides his fingers along the line of my thong, hooking one inside the fabric and ripping it away.
“Oh!” It’s a startled cry, but I love it.
Catching me by the hips, he lifts me to my knees and leans forward, tracing his tongue up and down my pussy, melting my insides. “Oh, John… Oh, God…”
My elbows give out, and I can’t take it. The pleasure shooting through my body trembles in my thighs. I’ve missed him so much. I’m going to come so fast for him.
“You taste so good.” He kisses my bare ass cheek before standing. I hear the rip of foil and a shush of rolling, and he slides his cock along my slippery folds. “Ready?”
“Yes…” I gasp, and he fills me, driving all the way to the hilt.
Eyes squeezing shut, my hands reach forward on the bed, clawing at the fabric as I let out a low moan. He places a knee between my thighs and thrusts deeper, spreading my legs wider. He’s moving fast, pushing me higher in the bed, erasing my mind.
Hot breath is behind my ear, and I turn my face, searching for his lips. Our mouths unite, and he holds my waist, pumping and groaning, kissing and pulling, sliding his tongue against mine.
It’s hot and hungry and wild. Prickles of orgasm radiate through my pelvis, and I arch my back, meeting his movements as best I can with my own.
We’re devouring, fucking like we can’t get enough. Our sounds are groans and whimpers, broken yeses and desperate oh Gods. I arch my back, rising higher, and his hand moves from my hip to my clit. One thick digit slides up and down that hypersensitive bud, and my orgasm erupts suddenly, like I’ve touched a live wire.
“John!” I cry out.
His fingers curl on my stomach, and one, two more thrusts and he holds, groaning low as he pulses inside me, filling the condom.
We’re panting as we collapse together. Reaching out, he draws me close to his chest and buries his face in my hair, inhaling deeply. I love when he does that.
“Hope.” Satisfaction permeates his tone, warming me to my toes.
Turning to face him, my arms snake around his waist, and I scoot myself closer to him, loving the feel of our skin against skin, from our shoulders to our stomachs to our thighs. It’s incredible. I wasn’t sure I’d have it again. I have a dream… Is it coming true?
“Why did you come here?” My chin is at his chest, and I look up at his cool blue eyes.
Again, they’re so full of that emotion. I don’t know what to call it. “I’ve been looking for you since I got back.”
I’m afraid to ask why. I don’t want to give him any ideas. Still… “I thought we had to wait.”
“I missed you.” His full lips tighten, and he dips his head, taking a deep breath of my hair and kissing my head.
My stomach squeezes so tight. Inside I’m jumping up and down and doing a cheer. He missed me!
Clearing my throat, I’m very cool. “I missed you.”
“You changed your scent?” He sniffs again, and all my cool is gone.
“You don’t like it?”
“It’s not that…” He gives me another sniff. “It’s just different.”
“It’s my lucky charm.”
“What does that mean?” He shifts to the side, and I prop on my elbow beside him.
Being so close to his face, chatting, it’s something we’ve never had time to do, and it makes my stomach tingly. He’s so intense and focused.
