“You think holding my hands and forcing me to have sex is what I want?”
He slammed his fist on the leg of the worktable, and I flinched. “You make it sound like I was about to rape you!”
“Well, you were holding me against my will,” I snipped. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Jesus, Claude, it’s just sex. We’ve been dating for almost two months. How long are you going to make me wait?”
“It's not just sex to me. I’ll make you wait as long as it takes me to feel ready. And besides,” I said, eyeing our surroundings, “I don’t want my first time to be next to a tool bench, on the dirty floor of an old garage.”
Toby raised himself up onto his elbow and leisurely watched me as I got up and dusted myself off. “If all it takes is a bed, then I’ll take you to the motel up on the highway, the one with hourly rates.”
His cavalier attitude was infuriating. “It takes more than a bed, you asshole.” I felt my composure start to crumple. “I thought I wanted to be with you,” I said, blinking back tears. “But after this, I don’t want you to ever touch me again.”
“Huh?” His expression finally registered some emotion. It looked akin to fear.
I didn’t take any joy in being able to get him to react because the whole ordeal had sent me over the edge. Even as my tears began to fall, I felt an angry determination to get away from him. Focusing on that, I ran for the door. Behind me, I heard Toby scrambling to his feet. “Claude, wait,” he called after me.
I bolted out the door and ran, but I didn’t manage to get out of the backyard before he caught my arm and spun me around.
We were breathing hard, and I thought I might just hate him right then.
“I’m sorry,” he said as he tried to get closer and touch my face.
I shoved his hand away. “Leave me alone,” I cried.
“That’s part of the problem. I can’t seem to do that.”
I was shaking, but my voice remained static. “Maybe your other girlfriends let you treat them like that, but I won’t.”
“I know. I’m sorry, baby.” He moved forward and wrapped his arms around me. I stood stiffly at first, but it took too much effort to stay away from him when what I really wanted was for him to comfort me—to make me feel as if being with him wasn’t all a big mistake.
He pressed his face into my hair. “You didn’t deserve that. You’re right. I am an asshole. I don’t know why you put up with me sometimes.”
Holding me tight, he rubbed my back, slow and gentle. I closed my eyes and accepted his penitent caresses.
“You’ve never been so rough with me before.”
“I’m sorry. I was in a crappy mood earlier. Touching you like that took my mind off of it.” He stroked my hair and pressed his lips to my jaw line, just below my ear. “But I swear, even though I wasn’t being gentle, I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he whispered. He slid his hands to my waist and kneaded my hips. I flushed warmly as he pulled his face away and his darkened eyes met mine.
“Claude, I got worked up—I forgot about the virginity thing. Christ, I wanted to give it to you hard.” He gave me a cocky, lopsided grin and then brushed his lips against mine. “Baby, if you weren’t so inexperienced, I would have made you lose your mind. You would have loved it.”
I shook my head. I had never had a guy talk to me the way he did. His words were always so erotic, explicit. And disturbing. Although, around me, he had curbed his ‘vocabulary,’ I knew from the first time I’d met him that this was how he expressed himself. I was still upset at the callous motel remark, but his words—a hint at a pleasure I wasn’t yet acquainted with—affected me. As the air conditioner unit in Mrs. Faye’s bedroom window above us hummed, so did my body.
“Maybe I will like that kind of rough stuff someday, but,” I said grabbing two fistfuls of the front of his black tee shirt and twisting it taut. “If you ever treat me so disrespectfully again, it’ll be the last time. Understand me?”
“Yes! Comprendo,” he said biting back a smile as he gave me an exaggerated nod. “Are you going to hurt me? ‘Cause I’m kind of afraid of you right now.”
Still frustrated, but anger abated, I let out a pent-up laugh and released him. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Be with me.”
“Toby—” I started to object.
“Claude, all I want is to get closer to you. If you just trust me, we could connect on a whole other level,” he said softly.
I knew his words were not meant to hustle me into bed. Toby genuinely believed sex would unite us as nothing else would. I sensed he was right. The emotional side of our relationship had grown, and the physical side was speeding alongside it. Increasingly, the unsatisfying end even frustrated me.
I rested my head on his shoulder. “I know it’s not easy for you to be so patient and wait for me. I want to be with you, too, but it’s going to be more planned out. I don’t want it to be rushed or just a release of frustration.” I touched his face. “I want it to be out of love.”
“That’s right. That was part of the deal.” He tipped his head against mine and rubbed up and down my arms. “Don’t expect me to use that word, but I hope you know, I’m pretty crazy about you, Chiametti.” He kissed my neck, and very quietly he asked, “Forgive me?”
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I held him tight to me. “Yes,” I murmured. I almost told him I loved him, but I held it back. I wasn’t ready to admit it, especially after tonight’s drama.
“Can we go inside and relax for a while?”
“Can’t,” he said drawing away from me. “You should go home. I have a few things I need to do.”
He walked me to my car. At the curb, I hugged him goodnight. “We never even got to talk about USC,” I said.
“I think after what just happened, we should talk about it another night. Okay?”
I nodded knowing it would be best. Pulling out my keys, I turned towards the car, and I noticed that something wasn’t right. The car had an odd ‘settled’ appearance. I bent over and saw the back tire flared out on the pavement as if it had melted. Flat. Toby squatted to examine the front tire.
“You got a flat,” he said. “Open the trunk. I’ll change it.”
Curious, I walked around to the driver’s side, and, unbelievably, they were both flat on that side as well. I shook my head in confusion. “Toby, they’re all flat.”
“All of them?” His eyes narrowed, and he came around to look for himself. I heard him mutter a string of curses.
Clenching his fists and swearing more, he stepped into the middle of the road. I followed, and we both looked up the street.
Suddenly, from behind us, a car engine gunned loudly. I saw Toby’s head jerk backwards in surprise, and two headlights were speeding at us. I screamed, and Toby pushed me back and away. I stumbled and fell in front of my car. As the other vehicle careened towards him, Toby sprang onto the roof of the Camry.
It missed him, but narrowly. The car tires squealed on the pavement as it spun in a perfect one hundred eighty-degree turn and skidded to a halt. Now in the middle of the road, facing the way it had come, it sat idling. The tinted driver’s window was up, and we couldn’t see the driver. But I knew it was Devlin’s car. I sat stunned, shaken, and a little more than scared.
Unable to move, I asked, “What’s he doing?”
Toby slid off the hood of my car and cautiously approached Devlin’s car. As soon as he got within a few feet, the engine revved, and the car lurched forward. It raced down the road, and out of sight until, finally, the street was dark and quiet again.
My heart was drumming in my ears. “Why did he do that?”
“He’s a lunatic,” Toby said darkly. Reaching for my hand, he pulled me up from the road. “Are you okay?”
I scraped my hands on the fall, but I was more concerned with him and began checking him over. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said, pushing my hands away.
“I’m going to report t
his,” I snapped, going for my cell. “My father won’t let him get away with it.”
Toby grabbed my arm. “Claude, you can’t tell your father about this. Tell him someone gave you flats, but he can’t know what Dev just did.”
“But why?”
“Just because. I need you to trust me on this,” he said and then added, “Please.”
My father was on shift and came within minutes of my call. He arrived by cruiser with emergency lights flashing, and when he stepped out onto the street, I could tell by his stance he was in full authority mode. With the briefest of glances at Toby and me, he snapped on his department-issued flashlight and bent to inspect the tires. Mortified at the display of theatrics over mere flattened tires, I wondered if calling him had been the right thing to do.
“Your tires were slashed,” he noted as he examined them and the road around the car. He scribbled down some information and came back to us at the curb. “Neither of you heard or saw anything?”
We shook our heads.
My father asked Toby, “Where’s your mother?”
Toby shrugged. “Probably sleeping.”
“You don’t know if she’s sleeping?”
“I haven’t been up to her room for a while, but she’s usually asleep by now.”
“Is that right?” My father hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and eyed us severely. “So where have you been?”
I’m sure he noticed my disheveled clothes and was at that very moment forming an opinion on what Toby and I had been doing while my tires were being flattened. Though I couldn’t tell him we’d narrowly avoided being hit by a speeding car, I was anxious to put him back on track.
“Dad,” I said, my face tight as I grimaced. “My tires were slashed. Are you here to help with this or investigate us?”
Dad scowled at me. Without replying, he stepped a few feet away from us and spoke into his police radio. He listened, barked a few more commands, and then came back to us. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard the latest about Ricardo Velerio?” he asked Toby.
Knowing the name, I looked from Dad to Toby. Toby didn’t reply leaving me to believe whatever the latest on the Dominican immigrant was, he had heard.
Cautious, I asked, “What happened to him?”
My father’s answer was rapid. “He died tonight. The charges have been increased to manslaughter.”
I covered my mouth glancing up at Toby. While I felt terrible about the news, I understood instinctively that Devlin’s actions were somehow related to this information.
“It doesn’t look like a random act. There are several other cars on the block, and none of them appear to be damaged. Maybe someone is trying to send Toby here a message?” My father gave Toby one of his intimidating cop looks. “Maybe you know something or did something that might cause someone to strike out at you?”
Toby met his eyes, shook his head, but said nothing. My father was clearly not convinced.
“Just to give you a head’s up, son. With Velerio’s death, this will get worse before it gets better. I guarantee it.”
Toby looked so uncomfortable, I reached over and held his hand. My father saw this and frowned. Narrowing his eyes, he set himself squarely before Toby.
“With your family’s history, I don’t have a lot of confidence that you’ll handle this properly. If it was my choice, and I could talk some sense into Claudia, I’d keep her far away from you. I don’t like this situation, and since you’ve decided to keep your mouth shut, I can only assume you are more involved in this than you let on.” Despite his obvious anger, my father’s voice remained trained and even. “I wouldn’t normally care what the hell you’re doing, but you’re keeping company with my daughter and I’ll be damned if any of this bullshit puts her safety at risk. 'Cause if it does, I swear I’ll put your ass in prison, right next to your brother’s. Do you understand me?”
“Dad!” I gasped. I couldn’t believe he’d go so low as to throw that in Toby’s face.
Toby eyed him, his hand clammy in mine. The tenseness in his body was palpable—my father’s words had hit their intended mark.
“Yes, sir. I would never let anything bad happen to Claudia,” Toby said through gritted teeth, the hard edge of resentment in his tone.
My father turned to me. “Claudia, get in the cruiser. I’m taking you home. We’ll have to call a flatbed to tow the car.”
“In a minute. I want to talk with Toby. Alone,” I told him.
“A minute,” my father repeated. With a stiff nod, he strode towards the squad car. Inside it, he spoke into his police radio as he watched us through the window.
Trying to ignore the burning glare of my father’s eyes, I faced Toby.
“This whole thing is a mess. What if Devlin tries something else? You should just go to the police about him.”
“Relax, Claude. He’s just trying to scare me.” Toby glanced towards the cruiser and back at me. “He did his thing. It’s over.”
“I hope you’re right,” I sighed. “Listen, I’m so sorry about what my father said.”
Toby shrugged, emotionless. “It’s nothing new to me.”
“I should go.” I motioned to the cruiser and started to move away.
“Hey,” he drew me back to him. “Kiss me good-bye.”
“Oh,” I mumbled and, more than aware that my father was watching us, I awkwardly pushed up on tiptoe to give him a chaste kiss. Toby had other ideas, though. His arms tightened around me and crushing me against him, his lips moved over mine hard and possessive for a long few seconds—until the blearing sound of the cruiser’s horn made me jump back.
Having successfully provoked my father, Toby smirked, “That cop sure takes me kissing you personally. You’d think the guy didn’t like me or something.”
“Have your fun,” I said, exasperated. “I’m sure I’ll get an earful about you in the car.”
“Yeah. I’ll bet. Sorry, baby.” He raised his hands in apology, but, as I turned to leave, he swatted my butt. Gasping, I spun around and saw a dark smile tease his lips. “Be sure to put in a few good words for me,” he winked at me.
I shook my head at his audacity and said, “Oh, Toby Faye, after that, there are not going to be words to redeem you.”
He merely shrugged. “Were there ever?”
The first few moments of the drive home were awful; my father and I drove in complete silence. Finally, he spoke.
“I can’t begin to tell you how disappointed I am that you’re still dating that guy.”
He kept his eyes on the road, his voice low.
“I seem to keep disappointing you,” I said, and looked out the window.
“Claudia, you’re a bright young woman dating a guy who has absolutely no direction in life—and that’s before you add in his involvement with this murder investigation. What could you possibly see in him?”
“I really hate that you keep insisting that my boyfriend is involved with killing someone,” I seethed. “I could never be with someone capable of that.”
Dad scoffed loudly. “Claudia, his father was a lousy, angry drunk who killed two people. His brother killed someone, too. Believe me, he has it in him to be dangerous.”
Toby did have a temper. I’d seen that first hand. But other than tonight’s steamy prelude into the world of rough sex, which I decided was far more erotic than dangerous, and altogether a different matter than what my father was suggesting, I’d never felt personally threatened.
“You’ve got him all wrong. Toby cares about me, and he’s always been gentle with me.”
We pulled up in front of the house, and my father turned off the engine.
“You know I’ve arrested guys who beat up their girlfriends. One was even killed.”
“Holy cow, Dad. Just stop it.” I was appalled, but I shouldn’t have been so surprised. This was a typical scare tactic of my father’s. Over the years, he’d told me stories—terrible things—many involving young girls getting kidnapped and/or taken advantage of, to w
arn me to be careful and to stay close by.
“I worry about your safety!” His squawk startled me. I sat back in my seat and closed my eyes. “What does he want with a girl like you? You two have nothing in common. He’s not likely to settle down and make a good husband.”
“Husband?” I almost laughed. “I don’t want to get married!”
“Good thing because I’m sure marriage is the last thing on his mind. Guys like that always want the benefits of marriage without the commitment.”
“And what if he does, Dad?” My cheeks burned in irritation. “Maybe I want to have those benefits, too.”
He was speechless. I had shocked him into silence.
“Maybe I already enjoy those benefits,” I continued to taunt him. “So what? I don’t see how that affects you. It’s my life.”
“Claudia, you’re a good girl. You can’t be telling me…”
I sighed and turned to face him. “What I’m telling you is, I’m not a teenager anymore. You’ve raised me well enough that I know right from wrong. You need to let me take care of myself and make my own mistakes.” I took a breath. “If you love me, you need to give me room to grow.”
“You won’t grow while you’re with him.”
“Dad!” I was unable to believe he wouldn’t, couldn’t let this go. “Back. Off. I’ve been a good daughter, done everything you’ve asked of me, but it’s clear that will never be enough. I need out.” I grabbed the door handle. “I know Mom called and spoke to you about USC. She said I could use my college savings for whatever school I wanted. Getting away from here is what I want.”
My father scowled in the darkness of the cruiser. “So you’ve already decided to go?”
“Yes. Orientation is in two weeks.” I eyed him waiting for his reaction. When he didn’t respond, I threw open the door. “I’m sorry about the car. I’ll get it fixed,” I snapped, and got out.
25. Claudia
I called Toby from home that night.
“Your dad is a real hard ass,” he griped.
“He and I are no longer speaking to each other, but you were defended,” I told him. “You knew that man died, didn’t you?”
Saving Toby Page 18
