by Lane Hart
"Um, I guess you could say that. It's tough for her to find a job with her long criminal record, and really hard for her to actually show up to work since she's fucked up all day, every day," I told him honestly.
"Wow, that's … unfortunate, and a huge burden for you to have to shoulder," he said softly, reaching for my hand.
"It hasn't been that bad. What woman doesn't want men gawking at her and throwing money at her?" I said with a shrug.
"So how long do you have to keep taking care of your mother?" he asked.
I'd never really seen it as me taking care of her, since it had just been what I had to do for myself to have all the necessities. But Caleb was right. I was twenty years old, still living at home paying all the bills so she could continue to support her worthless habit.
"I've never really thought about it like that, but maybe I shouldn't anymore. It's not like she's ever taken care of me."
"I'd like to take care of you," he said with a sweet, and slightly mischievous smile.
"So far I really like the way you take care of me," I told him to lighten the mood. Guilt was still a rock in the bottom of my stomach when I thought about my morning in Tyler's bed.
"Then let's get out of here and get back to that, shall we?" he grinned, while filling out the credit card receipt.
"Yes, please," I agreed.
Caleb grabbed my hand while we walked through the dark parking lot back to our cars.
"Ride home with me, and I'll bring you back to your car tomorrow," he said.
"Maybe I should drive my car since you've been drinking," I reminded him.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out his keys and put them in my hand.
"Oh heck no. Your car is worth five of mine," I protested. His bright, shiny Mustang couldn't have been more than a year or two old.
"I trust you."
"Yeah, because you're drunk, and not thinking clearly. What if I wreck it?"
"You won't wreck it. Come on," he said, opening the driver side for me.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, and last night I was drunk. Tonight I'm not even feeling a buzz, but better safe than sorry."
I sighed, but couldn't resist sitting down in the black leather seat, which was miles away from the steering wheel.
"Fix the seat and all however you need," he chuckled before closing my door to go around to the passenger side.
I'd gotten the seat right by the time he got in, then reached to fix the mirrors. That's when I noticed the pink and silver butterfly charm hanging from the rearview mirror. Such a feminine thing for a big, macho guy like Caleb to have. I ran my fingers over it to turn it toward me and saw it wasn't just a random butterfly, it was a butterfly with a pink breast cancer ribbon in the center.
I looked over to Caleb who was fastening his seatbelt, and tried to decide whether or not I should ask him about it. I wanted to know more about the incredible man next to me, other than how good he was in bed.
"Has someone close to you had breast cancer?" I asked softly.
He swallowed so hard before he answered that I saw his Adam's apple bob. "My mom."
"Oh…how is she?"
He shook his head without looking at me. "She died two years ago."
"I'm so sorry Caleb," I told him, reaching to run a hand over his arm.
"Yeah, she was an amazing woman. Made June Cleaver look like a bitch," he tried to joke, but I could tell how upset he was at just the mention of her.
"I bet she was the kind of mother I always wished I'd had," I told him.
He nodded. "I'm sorry your mother is the way she is," he said. "And yeah, my dad and I were really lucky to have had her as long as we did. I just hate we lost her so soon, you know? She'll never see me get married, and if I ever have kids they'll never ... well, yeah."
Seeing the sad, softer, caring side of Caleb made me want him more, and made me wish I could take away his pain.
I stretched across the console to softly kiss his cheek, then his lips when he turned his head toward me. When our tongues met his hands were suddenly on me, pulling me urgently on top of him. We stayed wrapped in each other's arms, our mouths fused together, while time seemed to stand still. Eventually Caleb pulled the seat lever to lean it back, then I was lying on top of him, and he was pulling my dress off over my head.
…
Tyler
Luckily I avoided Caleb all day Saturday after he brought my car back. I was afraid I’d bite his head off or hit him. Even though he didn't deserve either. He didn’t know I’d met Lauren yesterday morning, or that she was at Shooter's looking for me. Damn it, if anything he should be the one hitting me for what I did with Lauren after he left this morning.
My luck ran out Saturday night. Around ten Caleb came home, and he wasn’t alone - Lauren was with him.
A part of me had hoped she’d decide not to see him anymore because she wanted me. I guess by turning her down that morning I killed that possibility. Fine, I’d give her hell while she’s with my roommate. I know she wants me, and Caleb was only going to end up hurting her. At least that’s what I’ll keep telling myself.
I heard them in the kitchen and despite my jealousy, I couldn't stop my feet from heading that way, shirtless with just my basketball shorts on. The look of appreciation on Lauren’s face was almost worth the miserable day I’d had since I left her in my bed. Beautifully naked in my bed, after screaming my name as she came. Shit, I’d never get that image out of my head, and even my five mile run this afternoon couldn't get rid of the hard-on I'd had all day for her.
“Hey Ty, staying in tonight?” Caleb asked in surprise as he cracked open a can of beer. If I wasn't working the two of us were usually out at a club or bar with Dylan and Will on weekends, and I almost always brought home a woman.
"Yeah, and just looking for something to eat. Good to see you staying away from alcohol tonight,” I told Lauren, when I saw that she was nursing a bottle of water.
“I'm pretty sure I've learned my lesson,” Lauren responded, her cheeks turning pink, either because she was thinking about this morning or me seeing her sick last night. Or maybe her face was flushed for another reason. The same reason her dress was skewed and her hair was mussed. There were red patches on the skin around her neck and chest like rough facial hair had rubbed her in those spots. Goddamn it.
Caleb looked between the two of us, confusion written clearly on his face. “What are you talking about?”
“I ah, got sick last night from drinking too much,” she explained to him.
He moved in front of her, brushing her hair behind her ear then kissed her. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I shouldn't have let you drink so much. Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I didn’t want to bother you and, well, Tyler was up doing what he could for me," she said.
I was actually surprised she'd mentioned I'd been up with her.
Caleb looked over his shoulder at me, his eyes momentarily narrowing. “That’s Tyler, always helping others.”
“Yeah, all part of my job. Too bad nice guys like me always finish last. Maybe you could give me some pointers on being an asshole, Caleb,” I taunted him, grabbing up some cookies and a soda then headed back to my room.
“Sorry bro, but you can’t teach awesome,” he laughed and called out behind me.
At least they shut the bedroom door tonight. I could still hear them, but it wasn't nearly as loud. It still hurt like a son of a bitch though.
Chapter Eight
Lauren
It was Tuesday night and I was actually home in my bed for the first time since Thursday. I hated coming back to this shitty apartment, but I wasn’t going to be all clingy and ask Caleb to let me stay with him again tonight. After four nights in a row he had to be getting sick of me.
Things between us were going great, even though it was all still so new. He was actually a really sweet guy like Tyler, despite his bad boy looks. We'd spent most of our time in bed, sleeping and screwing each other's brains out, b
ut we'd also cooked meals and showered together. We'd even gone grocery shopping together. It felt like we'd been together for months instead of just days. Tyler hadn't been around much since we saw him Saturday night, thank goodness. I was still embarrassed about what'd happened on Saturday morning, and felt like such a slut.
I hadn’t gotten over wanting Tyler, but I was seriously happy with Caleb, and really hoped he'd keep calling me.
I had just fallen asleep in my tiny twin bed when I heard my mom scream like she was being murdered. I jumped up and ran into the living room, skidding to a stop when I saw two men standing in our living room, wearing masks with guns out and ready. Holy shit! I looked over at my mom who was lying in the middle of the floor, crying in her old tattered nightgown, looking like she was probably high on something or other. Her worthless cop-a-feel boyfriend was nowhere to be found, of course. Frozen in fear I waited for instructions, knowing they were coming.
“Get down on the floor and put your hands behind your head.”
There they were. I just needed to cooperate, and best case scenario, they’d take all our shit and get out. Not that we had a lot of shit for them to steal. I didn’t want to think about the worst case scenario. Thankfully, I didn’t ever keep cash in this house. I learned that lesson a long time ago when I first started bringing home tips. My mom would steal every dime from me. Then we'd end up behind on our rent.
I went down to the floor, shaking as I put my hands on my head.
“Tell us where the cash and drugs are, and we’ll leave you just like we found you,” one of the men said.
I looked over at my mom, pissed that this was about drugs, and likely set up by someone who knew she usually had them.
“Damn it mom! Tell them where the hell your stash is or I’ll beat the shit out of you myself,” I told her.
“Lauren! How fucking dare you?”
“Don’t even start with me. Tell them now!”
“It-it’s in the ceiling tile, above the toilet.”
“You better be telling the truth or so help me God!” I warned her.
One of the masked men laughed and said they needed a hard-ass like me to help them with more hits. We waited while the smaller man checked out the bathroom.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, he man came back into the living room.
“Got it. Almost a G and a little coke.”
“Alright ladies, last chance to tell us where else to look before we tear the place up.”
“That’s all there should be. I swear. I don’t do drugs or keep cash,” I told them.
“Oh good, so you’ve got debit cards.”
Shit, I was hoping they wouldn’t want to chance using a debit card and getting noticed on the camera.
“Where's the card?” the man that seemed in charge asked.
“In-in my purse, in my bedroom.”
“JW, check it out and hurry.”
“Got it, and a cell phone too,” JW said when he came back into the living room a few moments later.
Damn it! I had never wanted to beat the shit out of my mother as much as I did in that moment. I didn't even have a smartphone, it was one of the old-ass flip ones, but it was the only one I had.
“Let’s go ... Lauren Jefferson,” the masked man that was in charge said, reading my name from the debit card in his hand.
“W-what?” He couldn’t have just said what I thought he said.
“You’re coming with us. After you get us the max cash out of the account then we’ll let you go.”
“Shit,” I mumbled as I stood up and started walking toward them. I looked down at my shorts and tank top with no bra, and almost asked if I could change. I decided that was probably a hell no, and just slipped on a pair of my flip flops I kept at the door.
“Let’s go boys. I’d like to get some sleep tonight.” I tried to sound like I could care less that they had guns pointing at me, and were forcing me to get into a car with them to go God knows where.
At least they had their own car and didn’t hijack my rental. We rode in silence to the nearest ATM several blocks away. The passenger got out and stayed a few feet away while I went up and withdrew the four hundred dollar limit with shaking hands. When I turned around the passenger came at me, jerking the money from my hand, then, thank God, got back into the old red Toyota Corolla and drove away.
Well shit. Now I was stranded in a crappy part of town with no car, no phone, no bra, and no money, in my pajamas. What the hell was I going to do? One person quickly came to mind. A nice guy who also happened to be a cop.
I didn’t have Tyler's number. I didn't know Caleb’s number, since I'd just entered it into my contacts a few days ago. Hell, I didn’t even know Jess’s number by heart. That only left the police station or my worthless mother. Cops it was.
I walked a few blocks until I found a convenience store that was still open. My fear, shame, and anger had turned to tears along the way. I asked the clerk to use their phone to report a burglary and kidnapping, and he reluctantly handed it over. Dialing 9-1-1 I told the operator the quick version. She said she was sending a police unit to pick me up and drive me to the station to give them an official statement.
My ride showed up five minutes later in the form of a cute, boyish looking cop. He didn’t have anything on Tyler. His brown hair was shaved close, and he was a little on the pudgy side. He said his name was Officer Cooke, and he seemed like a friendly enough guy.
“So, Officer Cooke, do you by chance know Tyler Evans?” I asked him on the way to the station. This was the second time in a week I'd been in a police car. I hoped it wasn't becoming a habit.
He glanced over me and smiled. “Yeah, I know Evans. Why?”
“He’s a friend of mine.”
“I'm not surprised. Evans has a helluva lot of female friends,” he chuckled.
Huh, I guess I shouldn't be surprised based on the way he looked, especially in his damn uniform. But there was still a stab of jealousy, even though I wasn't dating the man.
“Do you have his phone number?”
“Yeah, you want to call him? This should be good. Here,” he said, pulling out and handing me his cell. “He’s in my contacts as just Evans.”
“Thanks.”
I went through the phone, pissed that those bastards took mine, then took a deep breath before hitting send.
“Cooke?" answered his deep husky voice. "What's up? I'm off tonight.”
“Um, Tyler?”
“Yeah," he said, then there was complete silence for several seconds. "Who's this?”
“It’s Lauren,” I replied, hoping he wouldn’t need a last name to recognize me.
“Lauren?” I heard the phone crackle before he spoke again, like he was moving around. “Why the hell are you calling from Cooke’s phone? Are you trying to fuck the whole goddamn police squad? After sucking my dick you can go ahead and cross my name off. But tell me, did Cooke get the full service like my roommate or just a blow job?”
Well, I guess I deserved that, but it still hurt like hell. The tears from earlier started falling again, reminding me just how shitty my life was. I knew Officer Cooke could probably hear what Tyler had yelled, which made it even more embarrassing.
“Never mind,” I said, ending the call and handing the phone back to Cooke without a word. I turned my head toward the window to wipe the tears off my cheeks, and tried to take a few deep breaths to hold back the sob trying to bubble up.
Cooke’s phone rang and he answered it. “Evans, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
I heard what sounded like Tyler say, “Give the phone back to Lauren.”
“I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to talk to you after the shit you just pulled. Way to go, making her fucked up night even worse, you cranky bastard.”
It sounded like Tyler said, “What do you mean "fucked up night"?”
“The girl just got robbed and kidnapped at gunpoint by two thugs.”
“Goddamn it! Are you serious?” Tyle
r exclaimed loud enough for me to hear clearly.
“Yeah, you deserve the ass of the year award. I'll be sure to nominate you.”
I think Tyler said something like, "What the fuck happened to her? Is she okay? Put her back on the phone.”
When Cooke offered the phone I just shook my head no.
“She's really upset and doesn’t want to talk to you. I’m bringing her in to get her statement. From what she said when I picked her up on God-forsaken Florida Street, two guys with masks and guns came into her apartment tonight and robbed her and her mom, then made her go with them to the ATM. She gave them the cash from her account, and they took off in an older model red Corolla.”
“Fuck!” he yelled. “Tell her Caleb and I are on our way to the station.”
“Will do, although maybe you should just send Caleb and keep your ass at home,” Cooke said before hanging up.
“So you’re seeing Caleb, and Tyler's jealous?” he asked.
“Yeah, something like that.”
“I’m sorry he said that shit to you. He’s usually not such a jerk. Must really be messed up over you.”
I wasn’t sure why I even thought I should call him, and now he and Caleb were going to see what a mess I was.
While I was sitting in one of the back offices at the police department giving my statement, Tyler and Caleb burst in without knocking, pissing off the cop writing the report.
“Evans, you know the two of you have to wait out in the lobby. You’re off duty and can’t be back here with a witness,” the older, balding detective told him.
“Lauren, are you okay?” Caleb asked, ignoring the detective and squatting down beside my chair.
Seeing him made me feel a little better about everything. When he hugged me I grabbed onto him and the tears started again.
“Thanks … for … coming,” I told him, pulling away to grab another tissue from the box on the detective’s desk.
“Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry. We’ll wait for you and take you back to our place, okay?”
I nodded. Grateful not to have to go back to my apartment. I knew I’d never feel safe in that shithole again, not that I really ever had before.
