by Dawn Martens
Anger rushes through me. “What? Cori isn’t like that,” I say, brushing it off. He shouldn’t say shit like that about her. She’s our employee, one I’d like to consider a friend.
“Uh, yeah she is. You’ve just been too blind to see it.” His eyes shift to the side, avoiding my icy glare.
Adam is wrong. Cori isn’t like that; she’s shy and wears clothes that in no way show off the figure I’m sure she has been hiding. I don’t believe for a minute she’s the type of girl to have a fuck buddy. Her sister, yeah, but not Cori.
“Whatever. Anyway, it’s closing time. I have a date tonight, so we’ll talk tomorrow about this case I have open,” I tell him, getting out of my chair.
“Yeah, later man,” he says, walking out of the office.
The thought of Cori with a fuck buddy has the collar of my shirt feeling tight. Loosening my tie, I try to suppress the rage coursing through my body. Hot and angry, I step into the kitchen for a water. The cool liquid sends relief down my throat. Taking a deep breath, defusing my anger, I reassure myself of my opinion—Cori isn’t a fuck buddy kind of girl. Or is she? I peek at her as she sits at her desk, modestly dressed, doing her duties with diligence. No, she certainly doesn’t get around.
She gives off the appearance of a woman who spends her weekends reading and drinking wine. It shouldn’t get under my skin—the idea of her sleeping with someone. I fuck around plenty. I shouldn’t want to call her in here to my office right now and demand she doesn’t bring a date, or make her so damn busy during the party she doesn’t have time to entertain one.
Chapter 2
Cori
Melissa and I went to the Calgary Zoo over the weekend. Most people wouldn’t think that’s something we’d do, but there’s something that majorly sucks with Friday and Saturday nights out. Clubs and bars are packed, wall to wall, and no, that’s not my thing. Being cramped in a large crowd takes me back to being that helpless child in a small room. I’ll never be that girl again. That girl couldn’t protect her sister — she couldn’t save herself.
Some nights, I dream of my mother. At times, I can remember her face clear as day, and yet, others, she is nothing but a demon face with snarling teeth trying to tear me apart. Those dreams are the worst, the ones where I can’t see her to confront her for not loving Melly and me...for leaving us in that shithole time after time.
I wake up, feeling sore all over from walking around all day yesterday, and, of course, I’m slightly burnt. I’m still feeling haunted by my childhood when Melissa knocks on my door.
“Sis, let’s go out for lunch,” she suggests with a grin.
I groan. “Melly, don’t you mean breakfast?” I just want to roll over and go back to sleep.
“No, it’s close to two in the afternoon, actually,” she informs me.
“Shit, really? I’ve never slept in this late before.” I get out of bed and grab my clothes for a shower. “Lunch sounds good. Where do you want to go?”
“Moxies!” she yells to me as I shut my bathroom door.
The hot water hitting my tender skin makes me wince in pain. Next time, I’ll listen to my little sister and put on sunscreen. You’d think she was the big sister the way she tries to look after me. Stiffly, I towel off and get dressed, still unable to shake my nightmare. They haven’t been this bad in a long time. Blake is stressing me out. I don’t know what to do about him. I think about quitting working for him, but then I wouldn’t get to see him and I don’t think I am able to give him up. I am addicted to seeing his smile every workday morning.
He has a way of making me believe those smiles are only for me.
I try to shake off my thoughts of him. He is probably out screwing one of his many dates. Not that I have room to talk. I like a good time as much as anyone does. Just the thought of Blake with someone tugs on my heart.
An hour later, we are leaving the restaurant, and Melissa decides she wants to go shopping. “Fine,” I groan. “I need new work clothes anyways.”
She playfully punches me in the arm. “You’re such a guy. What girl hates shopping?” she teases.
“I just don’t like people. They bug me, always rushing and pushing and glaring.” I shrug. People are rude.
Melly just shakes her head. She is the social butterfly between the two of us. I like people… most of the time.
I head to Garage, and Melly squeals when she finds a pair of faded and ripped blue jeans on sale. I find a few pairs of jeans for myself, and some cute tanks. We later hit up Sears, and Melly really starts complaining when I’m picking out work outfits about two sizes too big for me.
“Seriously, why do you buy this shit?”
I shrug. “I just want to look presentable for work.”
“Bullshit. You act ten times different around Blake than anyone else in the universe. I don’t get it.”
“Nothing to get. It’s a workplace, with nurses, social workers, and lawyers. I have to look good. It’s called being professional.” I kick her swiftly on the butt.
“Yeah, and you’d look just as nice from the nice outfits Suzy Shier has, too. Those would also actually fit you,” she snaps at me. “Fine, pick out this gross crap. I’m heading to get an ice cream.”
Geeze, someone is cranky today. I finish up in the store and go in search of Melly. She doesn’t seem annoyed anymore, so we head home, unload our stuff, and get ready for a night out.
After fighting to get a look at my makeup in the good lighting, we are finally ready to get out the door. The cab has been waiting for five minutes. Tonight, we are both drinking, so it’s a cab night.
We end up at Billy Bob’s around nine and are let right in. We head straight to the bar and order a few rum and sprites then slink off to find a table.
I spot the Saylor twins across the bar, and the second they see us, they make their way over. Melly pulls me away from the guy I was flirting with, mainly because the girlfriend was about to claw my eyes out. Which, of course, if I knew the dude had a girlfriend, I wouldn’t have gone there. That’s not who I am. It does make me think way less of the dude now, though. Asshole.
“Melly, Cori, babes, what are you ladies doing here tonight? Aren’t you usually at Club Shine with Randy?” Mark asks me. Both men are hot, not Blake level hot, but still hot—dimples when they smile, light brown hair. The only time I can really tell them apart is when they are together because Mark is slightly taller than Lark.
I shrug, take a sip of my drink, and wink at him. “Just needed a little break.”
He grins, and his eyes light up. “Good, my lucky night then.”
“Melissa, baby, let’s dance,” Lark says to her, pulling on her arm.
Mark takes the seat next to me, his fingers trailing up my thigh. “Let’s play a game. Never have I ever…” He trails off, sucking on my neck.
“Fuck the game. I just want to get straight to the good shit,” I tell him playfully.
“Now, that sounds like an excellent idea.” His fingers are now teasing at what would be my panty line if I were wearing any. Skillful fingers demand my attention, testing my limits.
Just when things are getting good, Melly and Lark come back to the table all over each other.
“Let’s take this party back to your place,” Lark suggests to Melly and me.
Before I can say yes, Mark is tugging on my hand and leading me out the door, with my sister and his brother following closely behind.
We get to their car, and everything becomes a blur as Mark bites on the shell of my ear, whispering what he plans to do with me once he gets my clothes off.
BLAKE
I don’t know why I do this to myself—going out with women I know I feel nothing for. I keep thinking that maybe the next will be the one I feel a spark with, yet every single time I am let down and left drinking my night away, while fucking Stacy.
The second I stepped into The Vat, I knew the night wouldn’t go well. I just wanted a few drinks. Maybe I should have just gone to the liquor store and
watched a movie at home instead. Nothing good ever comes from my coming here, and yet, here I am.
I am making my way to the bar, debating on just saying fuck it and bailing, when I hear an ear splitting squeal. “Blake!” Stacy shrieks.
Yay. Not.
I plaster on a fake smile. “Uh, hey there.”
She beams at me, her bleached white teeth and overly tanned face has me shivering in disgust. Luckily, she doesn’t see it. Now that I’m fully sober, since I haven’t ordered a beer yet, I’m slapping myself for ever sleeping with this chick and then keeping her around.
She loops her arm in mine, placing her face on my arm. Great, I’m probably going to have to take this jacket in for dry cleaning; her tan and makeup are probably smudging all over it. She pulls me along with her, getting me to sit down at the table she was just sitting at. Her friends instantly light up, all looking just as fake as Stacy does.
“I’ll be back, handsome. Getting you a drink,” Stacy says to me, leaning in close.
Her friends are like piranhas once she is gone—all jumping for a piece of me.
“So, Stacy tells us you are a real hero, protecting kids,” a plastic looking chick croons, rubbing my arm.
“That’s so fucking sexy,” her other friend says seductively, trying to wink. She is failing miserably.
“You got something in your eye?” I ask, brushing the plastic chick’s hand away. Their mouths hang open, gaping at my blunt manner.
Stacy returns, and I am almost grateful for her reappearance. At least she isn’t as desperate as her friends, but she isn’t too far off. I chug my beer and head to the bar for a second, just to escape the wolf pack of desperation.
Three beers later, I am feeling buzzed. A pretty blonde is making eyes at me from across the room. I smile, holding up my drink. I am debating on going over and introducing myself, but then another guy beats me to the punch. I turn back to the bar, enjoying my buzz.
My peace is short-lived when I smell Stacy’s perfume coming up next to me before she reaches me. “I love this song. Let’s dance!” She jerks on my hand, pulling me to the dance floor, spilling her drink on my shirt. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll make it up to you. Your shirt isn’t the only thing that’s wet.” She takes my hand, trailing our fingers down her torso. My head says no, but my dick says yes, rising to the occasion.
The last thing I remember as my temples begin to pound is her going down on her knees in front of me in the men’s room.
Chapter 3
Cori
“Cori, get up!” Melissa says, nudging me in the ribs.
“Ho be gone,” I murmur out, rolling over to smash my face into my pillow.
“Please get your face out of my tits,” Melissa says, giggling.
Shit. I get up and look around the room, realizing I was sleeping on her rack. “What the hell? How much did I drink last night?” I ask her, my head pounding. Rubbing my temples, I sigh. As I lay back down, the room spins a little and my stomach churns in response.
“A lot by my guess. That’s the only reason I can think of, since you were cuddling my tits all night,” she says, laughing. My cheeks would flame red if it were anyone else.
I glance at the clock and notice I’m gonna be late for work. “Shit, I don’t wanna go. I wanna sleep,” I groan out, wanting to snuggle against my pillow, not Melly’s tits and sleep.
“Yeah, yeah, me too. I need to get washed up. All I remember from last night is dragging you off some guy’s lap because I swear his girlfriend was gonna kill you, and then we hooked up with the Saylor twins. I don’t remember getting home. Shit,” Melly gripes.
That bitch never gets hangovers; I don’t know how the hell she does it. Always wakes up perky. I still haven’t gotten used to her morning cheerfulness, and I have lived with her all my life.
“What Saylor did I bang last night?” I ask Melly, following her to her closet, not that it really matters. I have probably fucked them both. I flop down on her purple comforter and stare up at the ceiling, wishing I could go back to sleep.
“I don’t know. They’re twins. We got one of each. I’m pretty sure we’ve done them both at some point,” she observes with a sheepish grin, getting out her clothes for work. Melissa goes to school full time to get her nursing degree, but on her non-school days, she works as many hours as she can at a small little bakery that’s hidden just behind Michael’s.
“Hey, have you talked to Chelsea lately?” I ask her, realizing that I haven’t heard from her in a while. Chelsea is a friend I met while I was in school. Both Melissa and I have been close to her for years, and she has this horrible relationship with this douche bag hockey player named Keller. She’s been with him since they were juniors, and they have this stupid ass open relationship.
“Yeah, she’s actually moving down here in a few months. Her and Keller broke up,” she states.
I snort. “Sure they are. He’ll show back up after he’s done fucking around, lick her snatch, and bam!” I smack my palms together. “They’ll be back together.”
“You have such a way with words. Too bad Blake doesn’t see this side of you,” Melly says with a laugh. “Apparently,” she snickers, using finger quotes, while standing in her bra and panties. “They had this weird as shit relationship that, when he leaves town to travel with the team, they aren’t together. Gives him and Chels an unlimited hall pass to fuck around, I guess. Except, this one girl who lives in town showed up at Chelsea’s clinic, saying she was pregnant and gushing about how her boyfriend was a big shot hockey player named Keller. Well, Chelsea lost her shit. I guess him and preggo chick have been fucking around for months when he’s in town.” Melly shrugs, buttoning her top and smoothing her hands over her skirt.
“Wow,” I say, astonished, shaking my head. Poor Chelsea. I begrudgingly get up and start getting ready for work.
Making my way to the shower, I yell at Melissa to lay me out something professional to wear. She screams back at me that she isn’t my mother, but I know, when I get out of the shower, my outfit will be laid on my bed.
I’m right. When I get back in my room, a black skirt, red shell top, and black fitted jacket are neatly pressed and waiting for me. I sigh. This stuff is too short and tight to wear, so I switch it out with my baggier clothes. I want to look professional, not slutty.
As I start out the door, Melly chides me and demands I change into the clothes she so graciously laid out for me. Begrudgingly, I change so she will shut up. I will be tugging at this skirt all damn day. I don’t dress so revealing for work, ever. Usually, I settle on longer skirts or loose pants that hide my curves. I don’t want to leave the wrong impression at the workplace.
BLAKE
My alarm goes off, and memories of last night come back to me. Shit, I hope she went home. I do not want to deal with a pissed off woman this morning. I swing my arm to hit the off button on my clock and slowly get up.
I smell coffee brewing. Shit. She’s still here.
Once I’m showered and dressed, I head to my kitchen. I see no sign of her, though when I get to the coffee machine, I notice a bacon and ketchup sandwich on the counter with a note beside it.
Hey, handsome. I made your coffee and some breakfast. Hope you enjoy it.
Last night was amazing, like always. When are you gonna commit to me, huh?
Anyways, I’m just a phone call away. Well, you know that.
Kisses
Stacy
I crumple up the note and toss it in the trash. I’m an idiot. Huge idiot. Why is it, every stupid ass time I’m drunk, I end up hooking up with that bitch, Stacy. She’s been on my ass for weeks, and instead of saying no, I get drunk and give in. Giving my head a shake, I eat the food she left me and pour the coffee in my travel mug. Stacy reminds me of the girls I dated in high school. Once I left, I swore I was going to stay away from her kind.
After high school, most of my friends went to university, with scholarships for different sports they were in. I played hockey, but it was
n’t a lifelong dream of mine to make a career out of it. I ended up getting a degree in childhood education. Growing up in foster care, I saw how homes were run. There were the odd times I was placed in a good home, but for the most part, it was terrible.
I wanted to be able to make a difference, to help kids that grew up as I did.
I get to the office and notice Cori isn’t at her desk. That’s odd, but I do see my coffee sitting on mine. I smile. I told her to stop doing that. I can get my own coffee, but she always delivers. I once tried to get her a coffee, and she started gagging. She really hates the stuff.
Adam pops his head into my office as I’m shrugging off my jacket.
“All right, let’s go to my office and get to work on this case,” Adam says, moving toward his office door. I follow him out and see Cori standing at Clara’s desk, smiling widely at her. God, she’s beautiful, and she doesn’t even know it. She looks different today. Her clothes are more fitted. It’s a nice look on her.
Taking a seat, I pull up the file on the Mercer family. “So far, all I have is that they’ve been investigated six times, each time coming up with nothing. I don’t get it. Those kids are terrified, and yet, nothing is coming out about them.”
“I know. Something is definitely not right. What’s your take on it?” Adam asks.
I lean back in my chair. “I’m thinking abuse, maybe sexual. I don’t know, but it’s something. I’m thinking we need to give Angel a call, have his club brought in on this.”
Adam nods, agreeing. “You make that call. We’ll set up a meeting and go from there. Good thing those guys are free because I doubt the government will give us any more cash to fund this investigation.”
“They pay us, and they pay us well. We’ve helped hundreds of kids so far. I highly doubt, if we asked them for more cash, they’d turn us away,” I tell him, reminding him what he already knows.
