Muffin Top

by Tabatha Kiss

I hear her before I see her. Anna’s always had the loudest voice in the room, even back when we were kids. She stands across from me through a sea of empty desks next to a small display of mugshots with three other detectives; each of them talking back and forth with rapid fire words and theories but hers clearly have the most authority of the bunch.

  Her eyes fall on me by the stairwell and she goes silent mid-sentence. She marches away as the other detectives look on, her tight, brown ponytail swaying behind her as her face crinkles with suspicion.

  “Okay…” she says, stopping in front of me. “Who died?”

  I chuckle. “Nobody died, Anna.”

  She pauses, placing her hands on her hips as she looks me up and down. “I count four limbs. I see no visible signs of fatal wounds or abnormalities…”

  “Anna…”

  “It’s not my birthday and no one’s dead…”

  “Can’t a man visit his big sister without a traumatic life event being attached to it?”

  She squints. “What’d you do?”

  I sigh. “I just need to ask you about something.”

  “In person?”

  “Yeah.”

  Her brow rises with growing curiosity. “Fine. Come on.”

  She turns around and I follow her towards her desk in the back corner, dodging the inquisitive faces of the other detectives as we pass by. They all stare me down, instantly recognizing me but I don’t think too much about it. I’m a little infamous around here and not in a good way.

  I sit down in the chair beside the desk while she stares back at me from her own, her body stiff with that perfect posture she’s always had.

  “What’s up, Vin?”

  “What do you know about a guy named Aiden Shank?” I ask.

  Anna deflates. “And there it is.”

  “So, you know him?”

  She leans forward. “Every cop in the city knows who Aiden Shank is and it sure as hell ain’t for his family’s vast philanthropic efforts.”

  “What do you know him for?”

  “Drugs, racketeering, prostitution, blackmail, money laundering, murder… Pull a crime out of your ass, he’s probably got his stank all over it.”

  “Then, why haven’t you put him away?”

  “We can’t touch him,” she shrugs. “We’ve managed to pick up his old man and his big brothers but little Aiden’s learned well from his family’s mistakes. Gives the damn assistant district attorney night terrors.” She lowers her voice. “Internal Affairs is convinced he’s got dirty cops on the inside here but they can’t prove it.”

  I sit back and scratch an itch behind my ear. “Damn.”

  “Why?” she asks, her eyes growing wider. “What’s Aiden Shank want with you?”

  “Nothing,” I say, “but he’s threatening a friend of mine and I’d very much like him to stop.”

  “Well… if you want my professional advice, you should forget you ever heard his name and stay as far away from this friend as possible.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Vin…” she gives me a hard stare, “do not get mixed up with Aiden Shank. Please. If not for your sake, then for mine. The last thing I want to do is worry about you some more.”

  “Since when do you have to worry about me?”

  “Since the day you came home, shut yourself up in that bakery, and never came back out.”

  I look away from her. “This isn’t about me.”

  She shakes her head. “That’s my little brother for you. Always gotta be the hero.”

  “I’m not a hero.” I flex my jaw. “I’m just a concerned citizen.”

  “Then, donate to the local food bank, join a neighborhood watch program, and say something if you see something — like every other concerned citizen. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

  “I won’t.”

  Anna sits back and exhales. “This is definitely not what I expected when I saw you standing there.”

  I chuckle. “Shock and awe are kind of my thing today, I guess.”

  “Honestly, the most shocking part of this conversation is the fact that you used the f-word.”

  “F-word?”

  She grins. “Who’s this friend of yours?”

  “Eh…” I hesitate, “she’s just…”

  “A she.”

  “Yeah, she’s a she.”

  “She’s a she that’s getting shook up by the Shank family,” she chuckles to herself. “Your taste in women has not changed at all.”

  “Can’t possibly be any worse than the circus of losers you pick your men up from,” I joke.

  She tilts her head and smiles. “I guess that’s fair.”

  “I don’t know what she is,” I say. “I just know that she doesn’t deserve the trouble she’s in.”

  “Good people rarely do, but… shit happens. You know that better than anyone.”

  I nod at my feet. “Yeah, I do.”

  “So,” she grins, “did Sally give you lip when you showed up?”

  “Yes, she did.”

  “Do you really send her a dozen roses on her birthday?”

  “Every year,” I nod.

  Anna throws her head back and laughs. “Man, she hates you.”

  “She has every right to. She arrested me four times. I was a shitty kid…” I shrug. “She didn’t send them back this year, though, so… I think I’m making progress.”

  “Not everyone has to like you, you know.”

  “Yeah, well… if it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have wised up.”

  Anna nods. “Let’s hope you stay very, very wise.”

  I catch the twist in her tone but I’m not going to argue with her about it. “Yeah. Let’s hope.”

  Chapter 5

  Evey

  Another night gone by and no sign of Aiden Shank.

  Not that I’m as focused on that tonight as I was last night. Tonight, my lips are still buzzing from Vincent the bakery man’s delicious cherry cupcakes.

  And that kiss, of course.

  That happened, right? I have a hard time believing it did. Fairytale moments like that only happen to certain types of girls and I’m definitely not on that list. Girls like me don’t get the hunky guy and they sure as hell don’t get them to change their oil for free either.

  But there was a moment between that kiss and now that keeps replaying in my head.

  I just wanted to help you out, okay?

  No strings attached.

  And yet, why do I feel like at any moment that wooden puppet’s nose will grow twice as long?

  “Evey.”

  I blink out of my trance and the shapes in front of my eyes blend together to make Tommy’s apologetic face. “What?” I ask.

  He sighs. “I said, I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  Tommy leans over the bar, lowering his voice away from the soft murmur of customers behind him. “I should have told you how much trouble we were really in…”

  Reality overwhelms the fantasy in my head. I could daydream about the what-ifs and maybes surrounding Vincent all night long but the reality of Aiden Shank can’t be ignored.

  “It’s okay,” I say.

  “No, it’s not,” he argues. “I’m your big brother. I’m supposed to protect you, but… I got nothing.”

  “There’s still time,” I say, glancing at the closed front door. “Maybe we could call the police or something...”

  He scoffs. “Yeah, right. He’d burn this place to the ground if we did that. Where would we be then?”

  I nod. “Can’t argue with you on that.”

  Once again, his eyes fall and look of shame crosses his face. Sure, he’s my big brother but he’s never been that great at it. I don’t really care about that kind of thing to begin with. I can take care of myself, for the most part, but…

  Sometimes a girl just needs a hero.

  ***

  I step outside and my eyes instantly fall down the alleyway towards my car. Thankfully, the tires look as good a
s new — because they are. If Aiden decided to leave another message for me tonight, he had the decency to leave my car out of it.

  Which begs the question… where did he leave it instead?

  I drag the heavy trash bag behind me, moving slowly as my eyes flick back and forth. It’s truly upsetting that this is what my life has become; slinking around from place-to-place, scared of my own shadow, but I guess that’s the way it is.

  I reach the dumpster and raise the lid to toss the trash inside but my eyes land on red duffel bag sitting right on top.

  Uh-oh.

  My mind flashes a dozen images at me, each one more gruesome and horrible than the last. Did Aiden leave this for me? It wouldn’t take long for him to put together my daily routine to know that I come out here every night on the way home.

  I take a step back from the dumpster, torn between leaving it and opening it. If Aiden left it, he’s going to expect me to see it, and if I don’t, he’ll know. He’ll just send something bigger and more gruesome next time.

  I drop the trash and reach inside for the duffel bag with shaking fingers.

  Here we go…

  With my eyes closed, I force the zipper across, bracing my senses for a bloodbath at the very least. I wait for several seconds for something to jump out at me but nothing happens.

  I peek out through one eye and see nothing but bundles of green inside.

  “What the fuck?” I mutter.

  Money. The bag is full of money.

  I grab a bundle of bills and thumb through it. Feels like real money. Smells like real money. I pull out a single bill and hold it up to the street lamp to find the magnetic strip inside to confirm that this is, in fact, real money.

  What the actual fuck?

  I dig all the way to the bottom of the bag, counting the bundles as I go. Each one is nothing but twenties, stacked together in bundles of two thousand dollars each. Fifteen. Fifteen bundles with two thousand each…

  Holy shit.

  I stare at it, waiting for a black hole to emerge from the ground beneath it and devour me whole but it doesn’t happen. Surely, it will. Something like that is statistically more likely than me finding a duffel bag full of thirty thousand dollars in my damn dumpster.

  Unless…

  I look towards the bakery.

  There are three possible explanations for this that don’t involve divine intervention of some sort.

  One: Tommy found a way to get this money and decided to play a trick on me. Ha-ha, big brother. Nice one.

  Two: Aiden Shank found it in the goodness of his heart to forgive my family and our debt and decided to leave it as a parting gift. The black hole is still more likely than this.

  Three: Vincent. He’s the only person other than Tommy and myself that knows about our debt to the Shanks but there’s no way he did this. Right?

  I grab the bag and walk to the back door of the bakery with a closed fist.

  “Vincent!” I shout as I bang on his door. “Vincent!”

  The door swings open and he stands there with a dish towel in his wet hands. “Hey, Evey,” he says, casually drying his fingers.

  I hold up the bag. “What the hell is this?”

  He glances at it for no longer than a second. “It’s a duffel bag.”

  “It’s a duffel bag with a shit-load of money in it.”

  “Really?”

  I exhale. “Cut it out, Vincent. I know it was you. Why are you doing this?”

  He looks at it again and takes a step back. “Come on in.”

  “No.” I plant my feet on the ground. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Just come inside, Evey.”

  “What kind of person has thirty thousand dollars just laying around?”

  “Is it enough?” he asks.

  “What?”

  “Is it enough to pay off your debt?”

  “Uhh…” I laugh. “Yes. Yes, it is. With great interest.”

  “Then, what does it matter?”

  “It matters because I have no idea who you are or where it came from.”

  “Come inside and I’ll tell you.”

  I flex my jaw, resisting the temptation to follow that delicious scent wafting outside from his kitchen. “What do you want from me?” I ask.

  He doesn’t answer. Instead, he turns around, leaving the door wide open for me, and disappears into the bakery.

  “Vincent…”

  I wait but after several moments, I’m still standing out here by myself like an idiot. I heave a frustrated sigh and follow him inside, slamming the door behind me to make sure he hears it.

  Vincent stands behind the counter with a tray of muffins balanced on top, lining them up one-by-one inside the heated glass case. Once again, the view from this angle feels far too strange, so I walk around to face him from the customer side. I’d much rather have a counter between us right now anyway. It feels safer.

  I drop the bag by the register. “I can’t take this.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “No, I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  I laugh, overflowing with hysterical confusion. “Gee, let me think…”

  “Evey, I meant what I said before,” he interrupts, sliding the empty tray down to his side. “You don’t owe me anything. I just want to he—”

  “Help me,” I say. “Yeah, I heard that part, but here’s the thing: in my experience, no one, and I mean no one, hands over thirty thousand dollars without expecting something in return.”

  He flashes a light smirk and turns away to head back into the kitchen but I step between him and the doorway to block his path.

  “What do you want from me, Vincent?”

  “I don’t want anything from you, Evey.”

  “Then, why? Why do you want to help me? Why are you so nice to me? You don’t even know me.”

  “I know you refuse to wear a coat outside, even when it’s snowing,” he says, looking me in the eye. “I know you always look up to try and see the stars at night, even though you know it’s impossible to see them from the city. I know you wear the circles under your eyes like badges of honor. And I know that your dad was the most important person in the world to you.”

  I pause. “How do you know all of that?”

  Vincent shrugs his wide shoulders. “Because I like you, Evey.”

  I lay a hand on the counter. “You like me?”

  “Yes,” he nods.

  “Like… like me, like me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since the moment I first saw you.”

  My jaw sags. “Are you fucking serious?”

  He laughs. “Of course, I’m serious. You couldn’t tell?”

  “No! Why didn’t you ever say anything to me?”

  “Why didn’t you ever say anything to me?”

  “Well…” I take a step back and gesture downward. “Look at me.”

  “I do look at you, Evey,” he says. “I don’t think you see yourself the same way I see you. You’re beautiful to me. You smile and my world stops. You walk in here and I can’t breathe.”

  My lungs lurch in my chest and I realize that I haven’t been breathing either. I take in a quick gust of air but it slips right out again like a hole in a balloon.

  He leans forward, studying my gray face. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” I say. “I’m pissed off.”

  “Evey, I apologize if I’ve been too forward or if what happened last night was inappropriate,” he says. “But I won’t apologize for giving you that money and I won’t take it back. You need it and I have more than enough to spare—”

  “It’s not that…” I whisper.

  “Then, what?”

  I look up, enraptured by everything about him. “We’ve wasted a lot of time.”

  He squints for a second, letting it sink in before his lips curl. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  The tray slips from his hand to the floor and he cups my face before
I can take another breath. The reality barely settles in before he pulls me closer to crush his mouth against mine. My knees start to collapse and my head tries to explode but I somehow stay standing, kissing him over and over again as if separating for even a moment would cause instant death.

  Vincent guides me backward with closed eyes, weaving the two of us into the kitchen until I find myself against a wall. He pins me there and I put my hands on him, feeling his hard body beneath his shirt as his hands slide over my breasts and hips. His lips fall to my neck and I swoon as his fingers find their way beneath my blouse.

  “So, is there, like…” I let a bloom of pleasure radiate down my spine. “Is there somewhere we can go?”

  “What do you mean?” he asks, his lips barely leaving my neck.

  “As a small business owner, I’m more or less familiar with health code violations and I’m pretty sure what we’re doing is considered a no-no in a kitchen.”

  “Oh, right…” He pulls back, breathing hard to steady himself. “Uhh… upstairs.”

  “Upstairs?”

  “My apartment.”

  “You live upstairs? That is so cool…”

  He grabs the door beside us and yanks it open, revealing a long stairwell and my jaw drops.

  “So damn cool,” I say again.

  Vincent laughs and kisses me, pulling me with him up the stairs one at a time. I trip repeatedly on the unfamiliar incline but he holds me up as I grip the railing to keep from falling.

  He takes hold of me and sits me down, far too impatient to make it the whole way to the top. I tremble as he pins me against the stairs, opening my knees for him to settle between and I feel his hardness press into me. My core fires sparks down through my knees and toes, awakening an urge for him I always knew I had but never thought possible to act on.

  I slide my fingers beneath his shirt, nearly moaning as they crawl over his perfect, taut abs. He moves his hips, grinding us together and my body responds, throbbing and aching just for him. I long for more of his skin and smile as he lets me pull his shirt over his head.

  Hot damn.

  I bite my lip, floored by his muscled torso. I touch the ink on his shoulder, rolling my fingers along his skin all the way down to his navel.

  Vincent attacks my neck again, leaving soft nibbles as he fingers the buttons on my blouse. I reach for the bottom buttons, yanking them free until our hands meet halfway up. He pushes it back over my shoulders, never once pausing before sinking his teeth into my ample cleavage.