The Hitchhiker

by Charlie Lee

  I can’t help but smirk when Brick walks in with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and my favorite wine in the other.

  Katch helps my mom to the table, and I stand there dumbfounded when I watch Curtis hand him an envelope. He simply shoves it in his back pocket and takes his seat. His face blank while the faded, white paper burns a hole in my head. All the possibilities of what that simple envelope contains send my thoughts into overdrive. What the hell?

  As I stir the medley of vegetables and meat, I can’t help but listen in on their conversation.

  “Aunt Louisa, you look good.”

  “No need to blow smoke up my ass. I look like shit, but I’m getting there.”

  When I glance over to them, taking my attention from the sizzling in front of me, I see Curtis give her his dazzling smile.

  “You look like your dad, boy.”

  “I’ve heard that a time or two.” He grins at my mother.

  “Your father would be so proud,” she says as she reaches out to grip his hand.

  The tears are bittersweet. Everything’s coming full circle. I’m finding my family in a way I’d never imagined. Family ties are a way for the soul to heal. It’s capable of taking me down at the knees right now.

  “Aunt Louisa, you and I need to talk.” He pauses, and I look over at him strangely at his out-of-the-blue comment.

  “We need to talk?” she replies questioningly.

  Her brows draw together, obviously thinking the same thing as I am. What in the ever-loving fuck is going on? There are secrets being passed around here, and if I knew my asking wouldn’t upset my mother, I would demand to know what in the hell is going on.

  “Not right now. Tomorrow. Rachel and I need to eat and run. We’ve left the girls home all day.”

  She simply nods, her face clamming up, now knowingly, I might add. I wonder if this has to do with my father’s killer? I suppose I could resort back to my old ways and stomp my feet, throw this fucking food all over the place, and tell people I’m standing right the hell here and I have every right to know what’s in that envelope as well as why he wants to talk to my mother. But I don’t. I keep my mouth shut, bite my tongue, and I will square off with Curtis and Katch later.

  They both fall into a conversation about Curtis’s young infatuation with Spiderman underwear as if nothing was spoken out of context. How he’d dash around the house in them. I don’t recall it; then, of course, there are a lot of good and bad memories I’ve seemed to block out. This entire time, Katch has his eyes glued to the back of Curtis’s head. He’s wondering the same thing. Why is Curtis so private about this talk? It’s not as if we’ve kept anything from each other pertaining to what’s going on.

  My gut feeling tells me that whatever he wants to talk to her about, the answer is in that envelope.

  Chapter 19

  KATCH

  “Katch?” Caitlin’s loud, booming voice vibrates throughout my garage.

  I crawl out from under the hood of the car. Slam it down and grab a rag to wipe my hands. I need to stop her before she gets all the way back here.

  I know why she’s pissed off, and to be honest, I can’t blame her. Don’t mean I’m going to give in and let her read what was in that envelope.

  After dinner, she cleaned up and went straight back to the bedroom with her mother. Pissed off at the world once again.

  After a few hours of no sign of her, I said fuck it, came out here with that damn thing burning a hole in my pocket, and ripped it open.

  The contents inside nearly fucked me up. It’s that elusive piece of the puzzle that fits this all together.

  “You may as well march your pretty little ass back in the house. I ain’t telling you.”

  “Excuse me? If it has something to do with me and my mother, then neither you nor Curtis have a right to keep it from me. That’s bullshit, Katch.”

  “The fuck, it is. It ain’t my story to tell. You want to know, then I suggest you go wake up your mother.” She rears her head back.

  Her face pales as if I’ve slapped her. Goddamn it.

  I came out here to work on this car because I couldn’t sleep knowing she was going to stay in there all night. Her way of thinking, she was going to get me to give in. Any other time I would have. I would have barged in there and dragged her out by all that fucking beautiful hair if I had to. I can’t do that shit. Not with what I learned in this letter.

  We sent Snake and a couple of other men to break into her father’s old office to see if there were files, records, any damn kind of proof that he might have saved that linked him to Vince. There was nothing, which didn’t surprise me a bit, but what they did find was another twist to this story that I never saw coming. It’s so surreal that it explains so much of the mystery behind the fake death of her mother.

  The part I’m struggling with is, it isn’t up to me to tell Caitlin. It’s up to her mother, and I think there have been times when she’s wanted to tell her, and yet with everything that happened, I don’t think she has the heart to pile this on her. It’s wrong, and I intend on telling Louisa first thing in the morning. This will make Caitlin feel much better about herself.

  “Katch, is that…” She moves past me before I have the chance to snatch her by the arm. “This is the car you’ve been working on all week? Oh, my God. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Fuck. If only I could see her expression right now. She has her back to me as she runs her fingers across the hood of her mom’s Mustang. This was the only thing I could think of to give her a piece of her mom back.

  “I wanted to do something for you. Hell, Hollywood. I don’t know how to say all this romantic shit. I felt bad when you told us about the car. I had JimBob meet me at your place, and I stole it. He brought it out here when he dropped off that piece-of-shit fancy thing you call a car.”

  The ice in her angry eyes from moments ago melts as they sear into mine. The moment I felt the first touch of her sweet little body up against mine was when I knew this woman was going to wreck me in the best possible way. It wasn’t. Not even fucking close. She’s made it crystal clear to me how she needed to be taken care of and embedded the need deep inside of me to be the one giving her the world. It isn’t money, power, or greed. Not like she used to think. It’s this. Showing her the only way I know how that she’s my end game. That I’ll do anything within my power to make her smile and live again the way she wants to. Not the way society demands her to function.

  “You love me,” she whispers.

  I half-ass shrug. Damn right, I do. “It’s the way I work,” I tell her. The words still taste like bitter fucking vomit in my mouth. I pull her close into my body until our fronts are touching. I feel her reservation and pissy attitude dissipate. “I’ll show you every single day if you let me.”

  Caitlin finally gives in, wrapping her arms low around my waist and staring up at me with a deep intensity. “I really don’t think you understand how much this means to me. A week was all my father gave me to grieve the loss of my mom. He didn’t pester me or make me come out of my room. Then one morning, he woke me up, told me to take a shower and not to come downstairs until I looked my best. I was fourteen, Katch. I had no idea what in the hell he was going on about. I thought maybe someone important was coming over. One of his big-shot friends. Senators, mayors, movie stars. I didn’t know. I did what he asked. Went downstairs to find him sitting behind his desk with stacks of money in front of him.”

  She pauses, her eyes searching out something behind my shoulders. Solace, the courage to go on. Not sure. But whatever it is, I wish to fuck she would look at me for it.

  “I was a teenager, Katch. A young girl who had just lost the most important person in her life, and here I had been summoned to my father’s office as if he was going to dish out punishment for me sneaking out of the house. He lifted his eyes, and the words he spoke stole the rest of my teenage years away from me. He said, “I have four things to tell you, Caitlin. One, you will never speak of your mother i
n my presence. It’s your fault she’s gone. You’re the one who has to live with it, not me. Two, you will not be leaving this house without my permission. If I find out you did, then none of this will be yours. Not one dime. I will kick you out and wash my hands completely of you. Three, you will stay away from everyone on your mom’s side of the family. If I even catch a whiff of you talking to any of them, I’ll destroy them. They aren’t your family. I am. And four, all of your mother’s possessions are gone. Her clothes, jewelry. All of it. It’s time we move on.”

  Jesus Fucking Christ. It’s no wonder when I first met her she had a defensive guard about her. I knew the man brainwashed her into believing that money was everything. This, though, I don’t have a clue how to respond to. There’s a piece of information that she dropped that has my curiosity peaked beyond belief.

  “Did he say why he had all that money in front of him?”

  Not one time in my life have I stared into someone’s eyes and felt a cold, soul-shattering chill run down my spine. Her look is almost inhuman. It’s as if she’s morphed back into the ice queen he made her out to be.

  The laugh that escapes her throat is merciless. Heartless. I know I’m holding my gorgeous Hollywood, but I swear to God that I’m witnessing a transformation of an evil version of herself.

  “Ten million dollars covered that desk. It was my mother’s life insurance.”

  Curtis was right when he said Caitlin lived in hell. Clarence didn’t pave a path for her to get there; he mercilessly shoved her straight into the boiling lava pit of the burning inferno.

  “Katch.”

  I’ll never be tired of hearing her say my name. Especially the way it so easily slips from her beautiful lips. Here I thought she was going to go dark on me again. That I was going to lose her for the time being and not find out why she’s telling me all of this now.

  “I’m right here, baby.” I lift her up, sitting her on the hood of the car. Nestle myself in between her legs and pull her as tightly to me as I can get her.

  How she has lived a life this way and survived is a question I will never have the answer to. The same way the hellish raging fire her mother has lived through and survived to tell about it. Both of them were locked away from living a life of freedom.

  “I’m sorry to have dumped all of that on you. It surfaced out of nowhere. I want you to know that I’m okay. I’m not about to let a dead man take anything away from me. I could have changed if I wanted to. I could have gone to the police, told them my suspicions. Hell, I could have run at the first opportunity. Trust me, there were times when I wanted to. I’m to blame for that, not him.” She pauses briefly, and I want to shake the shit out of her and say that is the biggest crock of shit. I bite my tongue. Just like the secret in that letter is her mother’s story to tell, this one is Caitlin’s. “My mom told me something the other day. She said my father didn’t break her spirit. He didn’t break mine, either. He cracked it and fought to finish it. Until I met you, I didn’t think it could be fixed. This”—she leans back and places her palms flat on the freshly-painted surface of the car—“is the sweetest gift anyone has given to me. You’ve not only glued me back together, you carved my way back to being the woman I’ve always wanted to be. I walked straight through hell to find you. And to think it all started out on the highway with me desperate and hitchhiking. I love you, so fucking much.”

  Chapter 20

  KATCH

  “It’s late, baby. You ready for bed?” I turn to watch Caitlin swipe her tongue across her swollen lips. I have to admit that after the deep shit she told me, I thought she would start begging me for more information that brought her out here in the first place. She never said a word. Instead, my naughty Hollywood poked her head out, and she wanted to play. And play we did.

  Caitlin also let some secrets spill herself, but they’re the only kind that made me smile wide and form a new plan. It appears Brick and her went on a little adventure while I was gone. He took her on a tour to see all of my cars.

  She loved them all, but for some reason, my 1968 Camaro, the same one Curtis drove when he went to see her mom at the hospital, is her favorite. This motherfucker is staying parked right here for the rest of my life. No way in hell is anyone getting behind this wheel again. Unless it’s me.

  “You might want to tuck your cock back into your pants first. You never know if someone is up.”

  I fucking doubt it. Brick could sleep through anything, and her mom sleeps heavily, since she’s still healing. Although, Caitlin may have a point, since this is the first night her mother will be sleeping alone.

  It fucking pains me to tuck my dick back into my jeans after that blowjob. The woman can suck a cock unlike any other. I’ve never wanted to blow my load and dirty up someone’s mouth as fast as I do when she wraps those lips around me. It’s a dangerous type of poison. Christ.

  “Let’s go.” I kiss her one last time. Hard and fast. Her greedy little mouth doesn’t need a bit of coaxing when it opens up wide for my tongue to jut out and suck hers into my mouth.

  “I’m going to check on Mom first; then I’ll meet you in your bed.” She steps back and winks.

  I shut off the lights, lock the door, and spin on her, grab her by the belt loop of her jeans and yank her to me.

  “What the fuck did I tell you about the word ‘ours’?” I growl. “Warned you once, Hollywood. All of this is ours; there’s no fucking mine. Your ass is permanently living here. When shit blows, you can do whatever the fuck you want. Set up an office in town or live off of me. You get me?”

  It’s dark as fuck out here, but I can see her eyes flaming bright and sense a smile spreading across her beautiful face.

  “Whatever you say, Katch.” She reaches down, palming my cock. “No mistaking, though, buddy, this dick is all mine.”

  “I should bend you over and fuck that little whatever right out of your vocabulary.” I’m only half joking, thinking it would be the perfect plan.

  “Admit it. This dick is mine.”

  I answer her with a punishing kiss that leaves her breathless and without a doubt who my dick belongs to.

  “Please tell me you turned the security on when you came out here,” I ask her when I lift my head toward the dark house. “You know, I should beat your ass for traipsing out here to my shop without any protection. Good thing your tits distracted me.”

  She cringes and then tries smooth-talking her way out of it. “Shit, I can’t remember that stupid-ass long code for nothing. I mean, seriously, who has a fucking ten-digit code of nonsense?”

  “Someone who wants to be fucking safe.” I slap her ass. “Gotta keep that shit straight, Hollywood. No excuses.”

  “I need a set of numbers that make sense to me.”

  I let it go this time, knowing Brick is on guard in the house, but the topic isn’t anywhere close to being finished. I had a security system designed specifically for this house. It’s precision at its best with highly integrated state-of-the-art technology. When it’s armed, it sends a signal to my phone at the slightest hint of an intruder.

  It’s always armed, or at least it was when it was just me. In my line of work, there’s no room for error. The consequence is death.

  “You’ll fucking remember the numbers. No excuse.” I open the door to the house and am only gently reassured by the fact Brick is one of the meanest motherfuckers I know even if he’s sleeping.

  I step inside before her, flick on the light, and before my eyes can adjust, I am brought down to my knees. My ears ring. Another blunt force strikes the back of my head. The pain is fucking real but nothing new to me. I force myself to gain some sort of bearing but find it difficult when a punch lands right in the middle of my back.

  “Get the fuck off me.” I finally find my voice, but it’s too late, because I’m struck again and lose my breath. That one fucking hurt real good. I find my voice and roar at Caitlin.

  “Caitlin, run! Goddamn it. Go!” There’s only one reason why someone wou
ld break in here: they came for her and her mother.

  I try and lift this heavy fucker off me by jerking one arm free from his hold, but my foggy brain isn’t letting me. It’s crossed between saving her and fighting this big son of a bitch off with all I have, but it’s not enough; the cunt has the upper hand. I feel the cold steel hit my wrist, hear the click of a cuff, and the rage begins to boil inside me with the awareness that she’ll be killed if he binds me down. I need to clear my head and focus.

  “You are going to die, motherfucker!” I yell so loudly that I barely hear the whimpering coming from all angles. Her mom is sitting at the table with her hands and legs tied in chains. Her watery eyes enlarged.

  I can’t move my legs. My free arm is clawing to reach this twisted fuck. I make contact and hear a grunt, and yet with my limited mobility, he still has my body at an odd angle as he tries to pin me to the floor. I’m able to sink a finger knuckle deep in his eye socket. The fucker stumbles off me, crying like a bitch and holding his face. It gives me just enough time to sit up on my knees. I’m going to kill him.

  Lifting my leg, I nail the bastard square in his balls. He drops to the floor, and I watch as Caitlin steps up behind and nails him in the head with the baseball bat I keep behind the door. Blood splatters in all directions. A pussified scream leaves his throat before he crashes to the floor.

  “Good girl,” I whisper. “Now, move, call Curtis now.”

  My voice is harsh and desperate. Being a prisoner in my own house is something I’m not fucking okay with at all. She has her burner phone flipped open and dialing Curtis, while I try and push up from the floor at the same time trying to free myself from the restraints around my ankles. No wonder I couldn’t move. Fucker is quick, but he’s an amateur. I sure in the fuck hope Caitlin didn’t finish him off. It would be a shame, because I have some plans ready for the cunt.

  A clattering noise gets my attention, and I look up to see Louisa with panicked eyes throwing her head to the right. A gunshot rings throughout the house. Confusion clouds my mind when I see no blood on her. Someone else is in the house. Brick. Goddamn it, no.