by ANDREA SMITH
I had retreated up to my room and cried into my pillows for most of the night. I had slept late the following day avoiding Mom as much as possible. Friday night was pretty much of a repeat.
I decided to head back to Charlottesville a day earlier than planned. I told Mom I needed to study for upcoming finals.
The truth was I was sick of crying. Being around Slate reminded me of Taz. Slate could tell I had been crying. I don’t know how he knew, but he knew. He gave me a hug before I left, telling me to drive carefully and that they would see me in a few weeks.
I had wondered if Slate was going to say anything to my mother about it. I was fairly certain that he hadn’t. My mother was not the type to hear something like that and not pummel me with questions about it. Slate was cool.
I had shared it with both Jill and Darcy after I returned to school. Jill was horrified; Darcy thought it was a hoot.
“You know, Linds, you may want to consider paying a doctor to remove that thing. I am beginning to think hymens are over-rated these days. You don’t seem to be able to lose yours on a bet.”
“Ha ha, Darcy,” I said, giving her a hateful look. “Do you know how humiliated I was?”
“I can only imagine,” Jill said, putting her arm around me and giving me a squeeze. “Lay off of her, Darcy. That was entirely insensitive for Taz or Spaz-- whatever the fuck his name is to behave like that to Lindsey.”
“Hey,” Darcy replied, “she really should have said something to him. Not every dude is comfortable with the task of deflowering a virgin. It is a big responsibility, you know?”
“How do you figure?”
“A woman never forgets her first time. If it is not good, or extremely painful and proper precautions are not put into place beforehand, it can be traumatic for both parties. I’m sorry; I agree with Taz on this. She should have ‘fessed up.”
“Whatever, Darce,” Jill replied, heading out the door to meet Gabe, “I’ll bring you back some Haagen-Dazs, Lindsey.”
I could always depend on Jill for compassion and empathy; Darcy, not so much.
"Thanks for understanding, Jill," I replied, shooting Darcy a look.
“Just put it behind you, Linds,” Darcy said. “You think I don’t hear you crying around in your room at night? He’s not fucking worth it. It is his loss, not yours.”
“I doubt whether he sees it that way,” I replied, grabbing my new backpack. “I’m going to the library, Darcy. See you later.”
It was dusk. I had finals this week then home for winter break. I dreaded going home. As long as I was safely ensconced in my apartment in Charlottesville, I didn’t have to relive that awful night with Taz.
I tried to think of a valid reason for not going home. There was none. My mom would be upset and suspicious if I begged off making the two hour drive to Falls Church, and then Slate would feel obligated to mention that he saw Taz dropping me off. She would naturally assume the worst.
I took the elevator downstairs and walked across the bridge way over to the parking garage for the building. I went to the space where I always parked my VW.
I didn’t notice it right away. I unlocked the driver’s side door, and slid into the seat tossing my back pack to the passenger side floor before I noticed all of the window glass on the passenger seat.
The passenger door window of my car had been smashed. I looked around the rest of the car. The glove compartment had been jimmied open. My registration was missing. Everything else seemed to be in place. Why would someone take my vehicle registration?
It dawned on me that my vehicle registration contained my full address and cell phone number. Shivers went down my spine. I only paused momentarily before my instincts kicked in. I grabbed my purse and backpack and launched myself out of the car.
I flew back through the door leading to the bridge-way, looking around as I did to see if anyone sinister was lurking about.
Once I got to the elevator, I pounded on the button to get it to the door to open.
Once inside, I envisioned someone wearing black leather gloves sticking their hand in just as the elevator door was about to close. It didn’t happen. I breathed a sigh of relief. I watched a lot of suspense television.
Darcy looked up when I used my key to go back inside the apartment.
“That was quick. Forget something?”
I shook my head, fumbling in my bag for my cell phone. I quickly hit Mom’s number. Slate answered.
“Is Mom there?”
“She’s with the baby, Lindsey. Are you alright?”
God, he was instinctual.
“Someone broke the passenger window out of my car in the parking garage. The only thing they took was my vehicle registration with my address and phone number on it.”
“Are you there now?”
“I’m back in the apartment.”
“Good girl,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief. “You stay put, okay? I’m going to contact the local authorities there and fill them in. They will send a crime lab unit out to dust for prints and thoroughly inspect the car. Don’t go back out there, Lindsey. Don’t leave your apartment until you hear back from me, got it?”
I shook my head ‘yes.’
“Lindsey?”
“Oh, yeah, Slate. I’ve got it.”
CHAPTER 9
(Taz)
I was sitting in the passenger seat of Slate’s truck, heading for Charlottesville. I hadn’t seen much of him since Thanksgiving. I had been working on a different case that was nearly wrapped up.
He had been conducting training sessions at Quantico. Something seemed different between us. I wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe it was simply my own guilty conscience for treating Lindsey the way I had.
What a dick I had been. She hadn’t deserved that shit. Hell, I made her feel like a freak because she wasn’t a slut. How fucked up was that?
God, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. It was driving me nuts. It was as if her face, her body, her voice, her hair, her scent, the taste of her were all imprinted on my brain like some primal connection that I couldn’t shed.
I had been on a jack-off bender for three weeks. Even having Roxie over for a nightly fuckfest hadn’t offered any relief from my thoughts and mental pictures of Lindsey.
Over the past week, I simply told Roxie it was over. The fucking just wasn’t any good any more. She had taken it in stride, taking her coyote howl with her as she moved on to someone else.
I thought about Roxie. Maybe Slate was pissed because I hadn’t told him on the phone that day that Roxie was my date for Thanksgiving dinner. After all, they had fucked once or twice. I hadn’t stopped to think about him not being comfortable with that since he was married now. Roxie had been okay with it. She knew better than to say anything about that to him or in front of Sammie.
We’d only been on the road for twenty minutes. It was going to be a long trip if we continued it in silence.
I knew he was worried about Lindsey; afraid that Jack Dennison had slipped back into the country, and was hunting her down thinking she might be able to offer him something. Everyone else pretty much wanted him dead.
I couldn’t stand it anymore. I needed to break the silence.
“Slate, man, are you pissed off at me for some reason?”
He glanced over at me. His face was expressionless.
“Why would you ask me that, Taz?”
“You’ve been pretty quiet.”
“Have a lot on my mind at the moment.”
“Before that. Since Thanksgiving. I guess I owe you an apology.”
“Oh yeah? I’m listening.”
“I guess I should have told you ahead of time that Roxie was who I was bringing with me to dinner. I’m sorry, man.”
“You’re apologizing for bringing Roxie to the house? That’s it?”
“Well, yeah. What else is there?”
“Why don’t you fucking apologize to me for whatever it was you did to my stepdaughter, ass-wipe?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t give me that shit, Taz. I was up the night you dropped her off. I was the one that lay in my bed downstairs and heard her crying right above me in her room for the next two nights. Then she fucking goes back to school a day early? What the fuck did you do to her?”
Now Slate was just plain pissing me off. He was butting into shit that was clearly none of his damn business.
“Why didn’t you ask her, man?”
“I did!” he yelled.
“Well?”
He was obviously flustered.
“She told me it was none of my business,” he snapped.
“So then maybe you need to back off, Slate.”
I could see his knuckles turn white as he gripped the steering wheel of the truck. Slate didn’t like it when someone shut him out. But the truth of the matter was it wasn’t any of his business.
A few minutes later, Slate spoke up again. He wanted to go over the strategic plan we had put together for the authorities in Charlottesville. We reviewed the file together; put contact information together for them.
Lindsey’s car had been towed to a forensic lab in Richmond for a detailed analysis. The report was due tomorrow.
The local authorities had contacted the apartment building security manager. There were cameras scattered throughout the hallways and parking garage. Slate and I requested them to pull the tapes.
“So,” I said, once we had finished the review, “do you think it is the rat bastard?”
“My gut says it is. He needs something. She would be the only person he might feel would help him get it.”
“What do you think?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you think Lindsey has it in her to turn away her father if he asks for her help?”
“I’m not sure,” he answered honestly.
I wasn’t sure either. That would be a tough position for a young woman.
She had likely been the apple of Daddy’s eye; in the dark for all of those years thinking she was part of a normal family and then suddenly finding out her father is a fucking sociopath had to be really tough.
Jack Dennison was a textbook sociopath. We probably hadn’t even scratched the surface on that one.
“Do you think Dennison will try to hurt Sammie?”
“Not while I’m alive,” Slate replied.
Slate was so fucking in love with his wife. I guess that was how it was supposed to be.
My family was a different story. My mother and father had been together for thirty-five years. They were very social people, just not with each other. I never observed any bad behavior out of either of them growing up in Northern California, but then we weren’t exactly the Cleavers, either.
“Taz,” Slate said, turning to look me in the eye, “don’t do anything to hurt Lindsey anymore, okay?”
“Slate,” I said in a tone that had some anger creeping into it, “it is not what you think.”
“I don’t know what it is, Taz. You’re right. It is none of my business. I don’t even want to know the details. All I know is that Lindsey is a sweetheart, and she is my wife’s daughter. If she gets hurt, Sammie gets hurt. I won’t let that happen.”
“You have nothing to worry about, Slate. I don’t have any intention of hurting Lindsey. I promise.”
“Okay then, brother.”
CHAPTER 10
Fall semester was officially over with the completion of the finals I took today. I was free until the second week of January.
I felt pretty good about how I had done on my exams. Even with the crap that had happened three days ago, I was able to concentrate on my studies.
Jill had left this morning for Seattle to spend some time with her family and her real boyfriend. I had to smile when I thought back to her tears and sniffling last night when she told Gabe she would see him in January. I hadn’t cried like that since - well since Taz had dissed me for being a virgin. I was so over that.
I walked out of Sumner Hall. It was chilly in mid- December in Virginia. I looked around and quickly spotted Kyzer. He was waiting for me just outside the door as promised.
He had been taking me to and from school since my car had been towed to some forensic impound facility for examination. I liked that he wasn’t nosy about it. He knew something had happened and he wanted to help.
Kyzer Stanfield was pure Ivy League in looks and manners. He was also a jock which was a nice blend of characteristics in my book. He was about six feet tall, slender but muscular, had blond hair and brown eyes. I had always thought that to be an attractive combination.
“There you are,” he said with a smile. “How’d it go?”
“I feel pretty good about it; how about you?”
“I finished my last exam about thirty minutes ago. It’s hard to know. A lot of times when I think I’ve clinched it I’m unpleasantly surprised; conversely, there are times I feel I’ve totally bombed and I’m pleasantly surprised. I do know that I did all I could to prepare so I take satisfaction in that.”
He put his hand on the small of my back as he walked me to his Mercedes and opened the door for me.
“Are you hungry?” he asked as he slid into the driver’s seat. “How about a celebratory dinner now that finals are finished?”
“I’d love to, Kyzer, but I’m expecting my stepfather at some point this afternoon or evening. He is driving me home to Falls Church for the holidays. I’m just not sure what time because he has to meet with some law enforcement locally. Hey, how about when you drop me off, coming in and I’ll treat us to a delivered pizza?”
“Sounds great,” he said with a smile.
He had dimples that were adorable. He had a baby face going on big time. It was so cute, I could eat him up.
We headed to my apartment. I phoned in our pizza order. They said they would deliver in about thirty minutes. I saw that Darcy had left a note on the refrigerator for me.
Lindsey,
Left for home early. I’ll be in touch over the holidays. Be careful. Love ya!
Darce
“Would you like a beer or a glass of wine?” I asked Kyzer.
“A beer would be great,” he said, shrugging off his jacket and taking a seat on the sofa.
“Coming right up.”
Between Darcy, Jill and Gabe (who was here a great deal of the time) there was always beer and wine on hand.
I grabbed a beer from the fridge, and poured it into a beer glass for him. I poured a glass of wine for myself.
I sat down next to him and we toasted the end of fall semester.
“What are your plans for the holidays?” I asked him.
“I leave tomorrow to fly home to Naples. I’m just going to chill with the fam, catch up on my reading, do a bit of partying, I’m sure."
“I bet Florida is nice about now,” I commented.
“Yes. I am definitely going to do some beach time. Why don’t you think about coming down for a few days, Lindsey?”
“Oh, Kyzer, I appreciate the invitation and trust me; there is no place I would rather not be for the next few weeks than D.C., but my mother would have a fit.”
“I understand,” he said, taking a swig of his beer. “You have my cell phone number. If you should change your mind, please call. My father has a private jet. It would be no problem to send our pilot to pick you up. I really mean it, Lindsey.”
The truth was I knew that he did. Kyzer was simply one of the nicest people that I had met of the male gender in a very, very long time.
“I promise, Kyzer,” I said, taking his hand into mine. “You’ve become such a good friend to me. I really appreciate your chauffeuring me around like you have.”
“Nonsense,” he said, waving his hand at me to let me know that it was no problem. “I don’t like that fact that someone has violated your feeling of security. I hope things work out, Lindsey.”
I wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by that, but I didn’t have much time to pon
der it when the doorbell rang. Our pizza was here.
Kyzer and I devoured the pizza, talking about our families, our classes and our roommates. He was so congenial and funny. I was so comfortable around Kyzer. I had sipped another glass of wine, Kyzer had downed another beer.
Before I knew it, it was nearly 6:00 p.m. I hadn’t heard a thing from Slate, but then I saw that my cell phone battery had died.
Oops!
I hurriedly put it on the charger in the kitchen just as someone pressed the doorbell to the apartment multiple times, and immediately began pounding on the door.
Holy crap!
“I’m coming,” I hollered, as I opened the door to a very pissed-off Slate.
“Slate,” I started.
“What the fuck is with your phone?” he snapped, barging into the apartment totally bent out of shape.
“I’m sorry,” I replied, moving to close the door, “I just saw that the battery had died.”
I saw someone else cross over the threshold just as I was ready to shut the door. It was Taz.
Bloody hell!
I backed out of his way as he came into the room, immediately eyeing Kyzer, as if he was some sort of a perpetrator. I felt my cheeks flush. I was embarrassed that Slate had come barging into my apartment like a worried father. That was not his place.
I had nothing left to do but to introduce Kyzer to my step-father and Taz. Why in the hell had Slate brought Taz anyway?
They both nodded to Kyzer, neither one of them particularly friendly. It didn’t take long for Kyzer to get the hint.
“Well,” he said, grabbing his jacket and putting it on, “I will be taking off now. Remember what I said Lindsey, if you want to spend some time in Naples the invitation is open.”
I nodded mutely.
“Mr. Slater, nice meeting you,” he said, shaking Slate’s hand again. “You too, Mr. Matthews.”
“Uh huh,” Taz grunted, unimpressed with Kyzer’s manners.
“Have a great holiday, Kyzer. Thanks again for chauffeuring me around this week.”
I walked him to the door, opening it for him. I could still feel Slate and Taz’s eyes on us.
Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!
