Crys And Gabe

by J. A. Hornbuckle

  "But someone's trying to burn her out, Buddy. It isn't safe," Benny bellowed.

  Was whatever disease he'd contracted affecting his hearing?

  Christ, he was loud.

  My last client had left fifteen minutes ago and I was stripping down my booth, marking the items for autoclave and separating bio-hazard waste from regular waste.

  I had another fifteen before my next customer and thought I'd take a break and move to the employee room at the back. At least I wouldn't be able to hear Benny bellow from back here, I thought as I looked over the mess.

  Fuck.

  Were all guys just lazy or was it just the plain, old-fashioned 'let the broad do it'? I mean, Dex was clean and all. But only about his own space.

  I tossed a lot of shit into the overflowing trash cans as I moved, wiped, cleaned and disinfected the break area.

  I hoisted three different bags of trash from the building to the dumpster, pausing each time before going inside. On a good day, the buzz of the machines grated the edges of my nerves.

  On a day like today? It was like fingernails on a chalkboard.

  I washed up, using the same package surgeons used, the prepackaged soap and sponge with the little plastic stick inside to clean under my nails.

  I hadn't been talking out of my ass when I told Gabe I was afraid of getting a disease, but more scared of spreading a disease. In my tutelage in Albuquerque, sanitation was more than forty percent of my education in piercing. Niko had taught me about percentages and for some weird reason it stuck.

  I was leaning up against the brick back of our building when Gabe poked his head outside.

  "You okay, Kitten?" he asked quietly.

  I turned my eyes to him, seeing the softness there.

  He didn't need to know how his dad's enthusiasm for Trish's pregnancy, real or not, hurt me.

  "Yeah, Gabe," I mumbled. "Just tired, I guess."

  He waited, holding the door open until I looked at him.

  I love you, he mouthed.

  Mouthed.

  Not said out loud.

  Kind of said it all, doesn't it?

  I nodded and turned away, pushing the hurt way down inside me.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  My appointments were finished and I could finally, thankfully, relieve Benny at the reception desk. According to the big book, we only had appointments until nine tonight.

  During this slow season, the time leading up to Sturgis, we closed a lot earlier than we did when the University was going strong.

  Students were our biggest business in winter.

  I was sliding the invoices, the 'second request' for payments at the top of the stack, for Dex to review and deal with, when he came to the desk.

  "You okay, Baby Girl?" he asked, his elbows on the higher ledge.

  I looked up at him and saw the sincerity in his eyes.

  Say what you want to about Dex.

  He was a dick of the first order, but when it comes to heart, there's no one better.

  "To quote Marianne," I said. "I'm getting there."

  "This shit with the grandkid?" he asked without completing his sentence.

  I could only shrug.

  "Dunno, Dex," I answered honestly. "But it isn't my war to fight."

  "Smart girl," he said with a small, tight smile.

  There were a few beats as he watched me sorting the shit that had piled up on the desk while I'd been gone. Gone, sorting out Gabe's shit.

  "You need me, you need Elle? All you gotta do is call, Baby Girl," he instructed softly.

  And his words hit me deep.

  Bad timing after a day of listening to Benny crow about his upcoming grandkid, Gabe more than kind of ignoring me, my damaged house, my insurance agent's voicemail.

  The whole fucking lot.

  I turned away towards the file cabinets that separated the shop from the booths with a mumbled, "I'll be okay."

  But, Dex, being a complete and total dickhead, made his way around the counter and gathered me into his arms.

  "It isn't over until it's over, Crystal," he mumbled against my hair.

  My face was wet and I was holding my breath, holding back my sobs and he knew it.

  "Well, isn't this cozy?" I heard a voice, a swarmy voice that I'd hated for years and years, say.

  "Hey, Carmi," Dex said, loosening his arms and moving away from me slowly.

  I dragged my thumbs under my eyes, my new lighter makeup not making a mess of my face as I cried.

  "Hey, Carmi," I repeated looking down at the big book, which is what we called the appointment book. "Here for a fill?"

  "Yeah, heard Benny can't do it, so it's with Gabe, right?" she said with a smug smile.

  "Absolutely," I agreed. "It's with Gabe and he's just now finishing up. Maybe, ten or fifteen minutes?"

  Carmi.

  Shit, when it rained, it freaking poured.

  "Have a seat and he'll let you know when he's ready," I said going back to the task of clearing the stack of mail.

  "Dex?" I said softly when he moved towards the back. He came around the reception console and put his hand on my shoulder.

  I felt my heart swell at his rapid response .

  "You're gonna wanna check the invoice folder before you leave," I advised.

  He leaned his dark head down to mine.

  "Call Elle, Baby Girl," he advised softly.

  I nodded, glancing at Carmi.

  She was flipping the pages of the notebook showing the flash and the finished tattoos that Human Hieroglyphix was famous for inking.

  I felt Dex move and tried, really hard, to swallow.

  This was shit.

  Gabe came out and greeted Carmi, but I'd already had enough and moved through the reception area, straightening and sweeping, doing what I could to make the shop look like the palace of quality it was.

  We'd taken separate cars, to throw people off our track. Although, what people, besides his dad, I couldn't guess.

  So it was easy for me to leave after a quick, quiet word with Dex.

  Call Elle, he mouthed.

  I wanted to, I really did. But how much could an English Professor really help?

  *.*.*.*.*

  "This is what my dad's been working on?" Gabe asked as Carmi undid her button down shirt to expose her bare breasts that were inked with a row of roses at the top, over her collar bones.

  His dad, working on a girl his age who had no trouble getting her tits out?

  Interesting.

  Gabe reached for a hand towel and folded it in thirds before draping it across Carmi's nipples.

  "What?" she asked, looking down at the looped fabric he'd place on her chest. "Why?"

  "Because I don't want to see you," Gabe said firmly.

  "Now, what is it exactly that you want done?" he asked in that same firm voice.

  "Uhm, the colors. Benny was gonna add the color," Carmi said, trying to catch his eye.

  He looked again at the design.

  Fuck.

  It was roses instead of poppies, but the design was very similar to what he'd designed for Crys.

  "Blue? Purple?" he asked setting up the ink caps.

  "No, red," she said stridently. "Deep, dark red."

  Oh, fuck, no.

  She was not getting Crys's colors on her chest.

  "Not sure about that," he said. "Maybe you need to wait on my dad."

  She smiled in what he thought was her version of sultry.

  "Yeah," she breathed, sliding the towel down and capturing her small, almost unformed breasts in her hands. "Maybe I should."

  Gabe stood up and whipped the curtain to his booth aside.

  "No worries," he said. "We'll call you when he's back at work. Thanks for coming by, though, Carmi."

  He could hear his boot heels striking the linoleum of the shop as he moved back into the 'Employees Only' area.

  It was clean.

  It was clean because of his girl.

  His girl that wasn'
t in her booth and not behind the desk.

  Fuck.

  They'd taken separate cars.

  *.*.*.*.*

  I was waiting for him when he came through the door.

  After a lengthy shower, I'd done all the self-soothing things and felt like I had a better grip so when he walked through the door, I was prepared.

  Leaning against the hallway wall, I waited until he'd removed his jean jacket before speaking.

  "You need to get your shit and go, Gabe," I said, my shaking arms clenched tightly around my waist.

  "What?" he said, turning to me with a smile that slowly wilted as my words hit.

  "I really appreciate you taking care of me when I was hurting," I said, my words saying one thing, my heart saying another. "But, I think I can handle it from here on out."

  He straightened and just looked at me.

  "If you could just read the list to me, I can take it from here," I said, realizing my voice was tight.

  "So, what are you saying, Crys?" he asked, his eyes moving over me.

  "That I appreciate your help but that I can handle it from here," I said, keeping my voice steady. Resolute.

  "You don't want me, anymore?" he asked softly, using his long legs to move towards me.

  "Don't need you anymore," I ventured, but my voice wasn't as firm as my eyes wandered over him. Goddamn! Did he have to look so luscious?

  "Wrong, Crys," he said, his voice strong and firm.

  "I've got a lot of shit on my plate and you got shit you've got to sort out," I tried to convince him, I had to convince him. "I think we both need to take care of things before we…"

  "Calling bullshit," he said firmly, crossing his arms and planting his feet. "Did I do something, say something, that hurt you or pissed you off?"

  I just stared at him.

  "I fucking can't fix if I don't know what's broken," he rumbled, fully into his alpha male crap. I half-expected him to cup his balls and spit.

  "I needed your support today, Gabe," I mumbled. "It was a bad day and with your dad bellowing about being a Grandpa, it fucking pissed me right the freak off! There, are you happy?"

  "Happy? Goddamn, Crys. I tried to keep him away from you all fucking day. He was on my last nerve, too. He gave me a lecture about owning up to my responsibilities. About how he and my mom had to get married and it was the best thing that ever happened to him. Christ! Like I'd marry that bitch! Fuck!"

  His voice was booming around the house.

  We were both panting and glaring at each other.

  "You're gonna fucking run again, Gabe," I ground out. "I can feel it. You've got so much goddamn stuff coming at you and you’re gonna high-tail it out of town."

  His eyes were like saucers as I spoke.

  "I don't want…" I started and realized those weren't the right words. "I will not have a man that runs from shit when it gets bad. And you, Gabe, run. All the freaking time."

  He stood there looking at me and I couldn't tell if it was from shock or if he was gonna try and deny it.

  After a few moments, he tore his eyes away, sighed and raked his hands through his hair.

  "Think about it, Crys. In all the times I ran, who was I running from? You? Carmi? Who?"

  I thought about it. All the times he'd taken off it was all because of his dad. Each time I could bring to mind, it was over something between him and his dad; always just between him and his dad.

  "You're stuck with me, Kitten," he whispered as his arms captured me, pulling me the half step into his chest. "I stopped running. In fact, the only running I've done lately is to get back to you."

  I just looked at him.

  He wasn't denying that he was scared or that there was shit he had to handle. Just denying that he wasn't gonna go away again, be on the fly, get the hell out of Dodge. And I was getting that he wasn't going to run from the shit with his dad anymore either.

  "You know what I think, Crys?" he said slowly, tightening his arms around me. "I think you're fucking scared. That you're scared, just like me, that what we have, what we've always fucking had, is real. And, if its real, then at some point or in some way, I'm going to leave you just like everybody else has."

  "You don't know shit, Mykalson," I yelled as I pushed against his arms and turned away. "Talking outta your ass, as per usual."

  "Yeah, you're the one running scared," he said, his arms holding my body close, tucking my his head over my shoulder, my back to his front. "You fucking well are, Crys."

  "But, I don't wanna be," I said. When did I start crying like some pussed-out wimp?

  He snorted as he turned me, picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.

  "Fuck, Crys," he said, and I felt his head move from side to side against my leg as he walked me, walked us, down the hall. "Stop this goddamn girlie shit and talk to me."

  I was thrown on the bed but in the reflected light shooting down the hall, I saw that he'd moved to lean against the long dresser.

  I didn't say anything, not a word.

  I had told him what I wanted, what I thought and what I was feeling. And the ass-wipe he was, he wasn't going for it.

  It was his turn to talk.

  "I'm not your fucking nursemaid and not your fucking brother," he said, his tone fed up and severe. "Talk to me, dammit."

  I didn't know where to start. And even if I could start, how would I talk around the huge lump in my throat?

  "I…," I started, my mind racing.

  "You, what?"

  "This is…" I couldn't complete what I wanted to say.

  We stared at each other, glared at each other again.

  "Fucking done talking, Crys," he mumbled, reaching to between his shoulder blades to pull his t-shirt off as he did the heel-toe dance to remove his boots.

  "You won't fucking talk to me, with me, for God's sakes," he said tersely.

  His hands moved to his jeans.

  "Then fucking listen to my body," he growled out, kicking the pile of jeans, boxers and socks aside as he made his way to me. "Listen as my body talks to you, Kitten."

  And talk, it did.

  His mouth on mine told me that he couldn't get enough of me, of being inside of me whether it was with his tongue, his fingers or his cock.

  His hands on my breasts told me that he loved both my skin and my piercings, as his thumbs flicked and caressed.

  His hardness, pressed against my lower belly, told me that he wanted me. That I satisfied him and being inside me was something he'd wanted for a very long time.

  And as he sank within me, eased himself in my wet depths, his body told me that he loved me, worshiped me, and I was absolutely what he wanted.

  I couldn't stop my tears as they continued to fall.

  I cried as his body talked to me, talked to me without pretty words, treacherous lies or confusing subterfuge.

  "I'm gonna marry you, Crys," he averred, his words timed to his thrusts. "Get, the fuck, over it."

  "I love you," I moaned, close to climaxing on him, tense as his body brought me right up to the edge of that sweet, dark cliff.

  "I know you do," he said softly. "Now fuck me, Crys. Fuck me and make me yours."

  *.*.*.*.*

  He fell asleep curled around his girl, his body satisfied but his heart still running in circles over how to make all of this right.

  Of Trish's shit going away.

  And he was completely convinced it was shit.

  If she was really pregnant, he was sure he would have been hounded by and been swallowing a fist sandwich from one of her brothers, or, even worse, all of them. And a complete and total ass whipping from her dad.

  They were all scary as shit and were fucking rabid about Trish. Which meant they had all spoiled her and helped her become the manipulative bitch she was today.

  Her winding up his dad was fucking sick. His dad hadn't even met Trish, didn't know what she was like, but he told Gabe he needed to man up. Man, the fuck, up. Geesh.

  But it was what Trish was d
oing to him and Crys was criminal.

  Making his girl doubt him?

  Just when they were starting to clear up all the shit she had in her head?

  When he'd stopped running?

  Oh, fuck no.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  I took my time waking up, reveling in the feel of having Gabe wrapped around me, holding me close.

  But, it didn't change the fact that he needed to be gone from my day-to-day life. And he may not be planning on running now with all the crap that was going on, but I had heard him promise that before.

  And he had run anyway, promises be damned.

  I got myself up and dressed. I had appointments starting early today since the tourist season was just starting to pick up.

  But I couldn't let this go. I needed my space. I needed a break from him but, more than that, I needed to get my shit together.

  "Gabe?" I said, rubbing his back. I'd gotten up early knowing it was going to take more than a few minutes to get him awake so we could talk.

  Well, so I could talk, anyway.

  He was gonna have to listen, I didn't care how awake he was since he only had to be aware enough to understand.

  Rubbing wasn't working since all it did was make him roll from his side to his stomach.

  Shit.

  I started patting his back but that was a no go as well.

  Freaking ass-wipe.

  I moved onto to patting his back, which morphed into slapping. Actually the slapping was turning out to be pretty satisfying, if you want to know the truth.

  "What the fuck?" he growled, sitting up and shoving his hair back. "God, Crys, what the fuck?"

  "I need to talk to you," I said softly.

  "Can't it wait, Kitten?" he sighed, rolling and doing his signature pillow face plant.

  "No, Gabe, it can't freaking wait," I said, letting him hear my frustration. It would've helped though if I'd worn a blindfold or closed my eyes. Gabe in the morning was too yummy for words, but I was determined. "Wake up, asshole."

  He flopped over onto his back and gave me a glare from only one eye. He lifted a hand and gave me the finger.

  It was hard, but I managed not to laugh. What I wanted to talk about couldn't be said with laughter or he wouldn't take me seriously.