Nobody's Hero

by Melanie Harvey

  A joke? “Is that a habit of yours?”

  “Are you shitting me?”

  “No! Hell, no!” She should be angrier with herself, but she grabbed her bathrobe and figured there was enough blame to go around.

  “Ah, Carolyn … ” He reached for her, but she jerked away.

  She struggled to get her arms into the robe, like it would help to cover herself now. “I cannot believe this. I just had unprotected sex with — ”

  “Yeah — me! I was there. Would you hold up — please!”

  His volume stopped her, and when he reached for her again, she didn’t back away. “You the one who calls me paranoid. I’m clean, I swear. You could eat off my dick.” He grinned. “Matter of fact — ”

  “This isn’t funny!”

  “Oh, that was pretty … forget it. What about you?”

  “Me? I’ve never done that!”

  “Well, that’s good to hear, because — ”

  “Am I really the biggest risk here?”

  “Well, I guess … not. Maybe. I mean, I ain’t afraid of needles.”

  Her heart pounded, but his words struck her. “You get tested?”

  “Every month, unless … Last one was Friday. Costs more for the fast results. Everything negative.”

  “It can take years to — ”

  “Just. Like. Always. Except for three years ago, when Mary gave me gonorrhea. And that’s the last time I ever … ” He shook his head. “I swear.”

  She took a deep breath. Everything he said matched up with the man in front of her, suspicious, distrustful —

  “Subways and elevators don’t even make the list of shit I’m really afraid of.”

  And consistent. “What about Monday?”

  “What about … oh.” Rick made a face. “Yeah. But. Same thing. I don’t fuck around.” He cringed. “I mean, with that. I’m ripping open the package before the air hits my dick. Unless I’m alone.”

  She groaned. “Thanks for sharing.”

  “Well, last few days that’s been pretty … ” He slid his hands inside her robe. “You better than my imagination, though.”

  “Rick. Shut up. Please.” She felt his chuckle more than she heard him, as his mouth moved to her neck. “You’re really vulgar.”

  “You laugh. Every time.”

  She couldn’t deny that. Neither could she deny the distinct change in the strength of the erection that pressed against her. Or that she pressed against. One way or the other.

  The words were soft against her ear. “You been on my mind for a couple of days.”

  Carolyn reached around him. “What have you been imagin — ”

  She clamped off the word when Rick lifted his head. Whatever hunger he’d had in his stomach had transferred to his eyes. “Maybe I could just show you.”

  “You have condoms.”

  He shook his head.

  “You said, in the other room.”

  “No.” He pulled her closer. “I ain’t going back. I’m doing monogamy, I get full benefits.” He kissed her and lowered her onto the bed.

  I’m doing monogamy. She felt her heart leap before it landed with a thud. “I could still get pregnant.”

  “That don’t kill you.”

  “Rick — I’m serious.”

  “So’m I. One of the benefits is that I get to knock you up any time I want. Then you can’t get rid of me.”

  She pushed against his chest. “That’s not funny.”

  “But it’s true.”

  She struggled to get out from under him, and it wasn’t her outmatched physical strength that made her incapable, it was the kisses that trailed along the side of her neck, under her ear.

  He started to move inside her and her mind finally took over. She reached down and grabbed him. “Go get them.”

  Rick groaned, but this time when she shoved him, he rolled off of her, shot her a disappointed look, which made her laugh as he left the bedroom.

  He was back in less than a minute, tossing a strip of condoms on the night table and one wrapper on the floor. Carolyn almost teased him about making more of a mess, but she forgot when he returned to the same place, the kisses trailing over her, and she heard him sigh with relief. She tried to explain, whispering in his ear. “I just don’t want to worry.”

  “I said … Carolyn … I swore I wouldn’t hurt you.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  He frowned, and her memory was awful, but she would never have forgotten that.

  Rick’s gaze roamed her face as he settled himself closer to her. “Well, I meant to.”

  39: Only the Nightmares

  “Rick!” Carolyn shook his shoulder, too hard. His body jerked, but he didn’t wake. Sweat on his forehead glistened in the dim light from the hallway, but she could see that he was calming down. She hesitated, because if it was over, it was over. She couldn’t believe how afraid she was, how much her own heart raced. Only the nightmares are real.

  She eased a hand on his shoulder, and his eyes flew open.

  “It’s me, Rick. It’s me.” She rubbed her hand on his heaving chest. “It’s okay.”

  He closed his eyes and took one long breath. Then he sat up, shaking his head. He glanced around and raised his eyebrows at the sheet she’d pulled off him while she slept. His head dropped into his left hand as he took one more deep breath.

  She rested her hand on his shoulder, the clouds damp with sweat. “What happened?”

  “Just a dream.”

  “Sounded like a nightmare.”

  He smirked. “Just dreams without the happy endings.”

  She ran her hands over his back, not knowing if he wanted it, or if it made any difference.

  His hand spread over the white sheet as he squeezed her thigh. “You’re still here.”

  “My hotel room.”

  Rick twisted, his forehead still in his palm, and grinned at her. Carolyn decided that much as she loved to see him smile under any circumstances, it was uniquely satisfying when his smile held that hint of admiration.

  She hugged herself to his back as he ran his hand over her leg again. “Tell me about it.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “They say if you talk about it, they don’t come back.”

  “Psycho-bullshit.”

  His heart still pounded against her chest. She reached around his waist and locked herself to him. “Only the nightmares are real.”

  Rick lifted his head and turned to look at her.

  “You told me that.”

  “I say a lot of shit I don’t mean.”

  Carolyn started to shrug because that was true, but she stopped. “Not that.”

  Rick studied her for a second. “It’s just a dream.”

  It wasn’t. It was part history, part trauma, and definitely recurring. Even with his claim of super-sonic memory, the details he recounted were too exact to be anything else. She rested her cheek on his shoulder, feeling the low vibrations of his voice through her skin, while his hand moved over the white sheet, down her thigh, over her knee and back up again.

  She closed her eyes in the silence that followed, his voice still lingering in her ears.

  “I always had nightmares,” he said finally. “I’d miss the bus, wait for another one that never came. Show up at the house and Beatrice looked at me, like she didn’t recognize me. Or she’d say, ‘Your brother doesn’t live here.’ Lot of times, some stranger would answer, tell me they moved. And I’d keep asking where, but they’d shut the door on me.”

  She gripped him tighter when she felt him take a deep breath.

  “Not all the time, just regular. That year, though … ” He snorted. “Self-fulfilling prophecy, I had these damn things every night the whole time I was on the pipe. Took a minute to figure that one out.”

  Carolyn opened her eyes at the recrimination in his voice, but he kept going.

  “After that day though, after five months of him making me pay, it was over. All the other dreams went away, the
normal, realistic stuff. Then one night, this X-Files episode turns on. Because my subconscious might have figured out he wouldn’t move without telling me where, you know?”

  She nodded against his shoulder, and Rick squeezed her knee.

  “And it’s like I know it in the beginning, it’s so much like it really happened when he finally forgave me, so I tell myself that it’ll get better — which it did. Things always change in the dream though, like whatever’s wrong with my car now is also wrong in the dream. I hit a curb and knocked off a balance weight last Saturday.”

  Rick reached around to pull her to his side, against him. He ran his left hand across her stomach, under her breasts; his light touch sent a quiver through her skin.

  “Like a reminder to fix it. The changes are weird. Never had this cell phone before, though and the TV was … I … oh.”

  Carolyn lifted her head. “What?”

  Rick exhaled. “I was looking for you. But I didn’t know it.”

  She told herself that meant nothing, but the logic didn’t stop her from smiling. Rick lay back and pulled her down beside him. In the semi-darkness, she saw his eyebrows lift. “’Course, we awake now.”

  His gaze drifted over her shoulder, and she turned to see what he was looking at. The telephone on her nightstand. “Do you want to call — ”

  “Nah. Stupid.” He pulled her back into his arms, but she felt distraction in his touch. When she looked at him, he shook his head. “It went away last year. When he started twelfth grade, they all went away.”

  Carolyn rolled away and reached for the phone. She lifted it from the table over Rick’s protests, which weakened when she set it on the bed between them.

  He muttered, “Stupid,” but his hand was on the receiver. He dialed the number, and shot her an annoyed look. Maybe it was grateful.

  “Jess? I don’t know.” He looked over his shoulder. “Yeah. Three-twenty. Sorry — no! Do I sound drunk to you?” The sharp tone in his voice matched the clear words. “I don’t know any Sherry — oh. That’s the hotel. Forget it, it’s a long story.”

  She held in her laugh as he listened.

  “You don’t gotta ask me every day. Did I say you could? I know I said that.” He sighed loudly in the phone. “Yes, Jesse, yes. You happy now? Go back to sleep.” He hung up and shook his head. “Not even awake and still making sure I ain’t gonna renege on taking him to the studio next week. So I guess he fine.”

  Carolyn smiled at the self-depreciating tone and returned the phone to the nightstand. “It didn’t hurt to call.” She slid under the sheet next to him, and kissed him as he drew her into his arms. He’d surprised her. She never would have believed he’d be so gentle. Or that she’d feel so safe with him.

  He frowned. “I ain’t had that dream in a year.”

  Carolyn caught his face in her hands. “He’s fine.”

  It didn’t seem to relieve the tension on his face.

  “So,” she said. “You know you’re going for two out of three here.”

  “What?”

  Carolyn kissed his neck before she answered. “I just mean that the first time was short, then the second was long, so I’m having a hard time figuring out what to expect.”

  When she lifted her head, his tension had been supplanted by the look she’d hoped for.

  He wasn’t really a man to back down from a challenge.

  40: BET

  Rick watched Carolyn long enough to memorize every detail of her face, smooth and relaxed in her sleep. More beautiful than before, when her hair was neat, her face made up.

  She had stolen all the covers again. He pushed up on one elbow to read the clock over her shoulder. 9:25 AM, so at least she was in today. He wanted to wake her up, to make sure, but how do you ask somebody something like that?

  Carolyn shifted, and a lock of hair fell across her face. Her nose twitched, and she brushed the curl away, not even half-awake. The white sheet twisted tighter around her, her body shading the cotton, his memory easily filling in what he couldn’t see. He started to reach for her, but he didn’t know what kind of mood that would put her in. He took one last look and knew that if he didn’t move out of this bed now, he wouldn’t care.

  After a detour to the living room for shorts and his toothbrush, he hit the bathroom. Bottles and tubes were strewn all over the counter, the cords on a blow dryer and flat iron hung between the outlets and the sink, just waiting for someone to turn on the water. He coiled the cords, recapped three bottles, and then went to check the bedroom again.

  Still sleeping. He watched for a minute, some kind of tomorrow anxiety still lurking on the edge of his mind. He shook his head, picked up the condom wrappers and his pants from the floor. He was pulling the pages from his pocket when Carolyn stretched, yawned and rubbed both hands over her face.

  She spotted him and frowned. “Are you leaving?”

  “What? Do you … ”

  She glanced at the pants in his hand.

  He held up the papers clipped together with the pen cap. “You were sleeping, I was gonna … ” The frown between her eyebrows disappeared. “Not until you make me,” he said, which made her smile. Him, too.

  She pushed her hair away from her face, but the tangled curls fell back immediately. “Do you want coffee?”

  A distant second, but he nodded. She was already reaching for the phone anyway.

  He glanced around, pants still in his hands. Her clothes covered every inch of space. He started out the door for his duffel bag and some order.

  “Sorry, I must have dialed the wrong — excuse me?”

  He looked back and saw her sit up, frowning, and listened for a minute.

  “Okay, thanks.” She didn’t sound like she meant it. Then she looked at him. “Yes … yes, he is.”

  Only Terrance knew that. As she hung up, Rick raised his eyebrows.

  She hung up. “The desk clerk said your brother’s been calling for you.”

  “How … oh.” Caller ID from last night. “Why?”

  Carolyn shrugged. “My agent too. Five times.”

  Rick glanced at the clock. “You miss something?”

  She redialed the phone. “I didn’t have anything scheduled today.”

  He grinned, and she pulled the sheet up to her neck with a warning look that he was sure was phony now. After she ordered coffee, he watched her climb out of bed, all wrapped up, and not what he was hoping for.

  “Call your brother.”

  “He can wait.” Rick reached for the sheet, but she dodged him. He groaned. “I thought you’d quit doing that.”

  “I need my toothbrush first.”

  “You ain’t going find nothing in that mess.”

  “I don’t want to hear another word about — ”

  “Then come back here,” he said, but she didn’t. “Well, see if you can dig up a comb while you’re at it.”

  She flipped him off on her way to the bathroom. Rick went to the living room for his cell phone and lit up one of Jesse’s missed calls. “Boy, why you bothering me? I’m in the — ”

  “Shut up, Ricky.”

  He was so stunned that he did. Sort of. “What up?”

  “You’re not gonna believe it.”

  “Then just skip it, because I got more important shit — ”

  “No, you don’t.”

  Rick heard the water running in the bathroom. “Oh, yeah. I do.”

  “You’re on BET.”

  Rick laughed. “Look, I’m sorry I woke you up last night.”

  “Ricky, did you hear me?”

  Carolyn came into the room, flipped her hand under her neatly combed hair, a smart-ass look on her face.

  “Jesse says I’m on TV. He hates being woke up at three — ”

  “I didn’t say TV, I said BET,” Jesse said. “Dot com.”

  “BET dot com.” Rick raised his eyebrows at Carolyn. “That’s like a computer thing, right? Which he knows I can’t verify.”

  “Well, I can,” she said,
crossing to the desk under the window.

  “Fine,” Jesse said. “Don’t believe me.”

  Rick moved behind Carolyn as she started her computer, and this time when he reached for her, she let him. She held onto the sheet, but he pulled her against him, same way he had in the subway, and kissed her on her neck. No fighting.

  “Ricky, I’m serious.”

  “Well, you sound it. But I’m with someone who knows how to use a computer, so you can’t play me.”

  “I’m not playing you. Did you really go to a baseball game?”

  “How did you … ” Rick frowned at the screen Carolyn brought up. “What’s going on, Jesse?”

  “Carolyn Coffman. That’s her isn’t it? From Monday?”

  She heard him through the phone, and her eyes widened.

  “Look under the books,” Jesse said, “then there’s a link to … ”

  She heard that too and quickly went back to the computer. Rick’s thumb hit the off button on the phone when he saw the words on the monitor:

  It wasn’t Guillotine.

  “Oh, my God,” Carolyn said.

  “What the — ”

  “Carolyn Coffman,” she read, “author of Fighting the Pheromone Factor, a self-help book that … blah blah blah … appeared Monday night on The Late Show with David Letterman. She joked about being overcome by pheromones —damn it! That was all your fault.”

  “How you figure that?”

  “Because I was … trying to impress you.”

  “Well it worked.” He grinned. “You sorry now?”

  She pushed his hand away from the gap he’d found in the sheet and went back to the screen. “‘It turns out that she may not have been kidding. BET.com has learned — ’” She shook her head, and his mouth off her neck. “Has learned, they always say that, but they never say anything important like from who — ‘has learned that Carolyn’s been spotted with Ricky Rain, the underground rapper from Cleveland who — ’ Oh, my God! Look!”

  He was already, at the picture of the two of them at Yankee Stadium.

  “Where did that come from?”

  Rick groaned. “Nathan’s camera phone.” He could almost hear Sinatra’s voice in his head over the image on the screen, after the game, Carolyn’s arm around his shoulders. The kid must have snapped that one right before he interrupted.