Utterances

by Jo Michaels

  She nodded. “Everything on it. Thanks.”

  Tristan ordered the chicken fried steak plate with a side of greens.

  “Okay. That’ll be about fifteen minutes.” Blushing furiously and pausing when taking the menu from Tristan, the girl finally turned and left, a little extra pep in her step.

  “If I was the jealous type, I might have to challenge her to a duel,” Simone said.

  “Nah. She’s harmless.” He turned toward her. “How could I even notice another woman when I’m sitting next to you?”

  “You’re too damned charming, you know that?”

  Rather than answer, he lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, sending butterflies speeding over and under her flesh.

  “Okay, enough of that. We’ll never make it to Florida if you keep it up.” Her face had to have been the color of a freshly pulled beet because her ears were scalding the sides of her head.

  “You’re cute when you blush.” He winked.

  She pulled her hand away and stuck it in her lap, sipping her coke and staring at the chipped tabletop. It was a bit of a run-down place, but it was packed, and she knew that was where the good food always was.

  Tristan left her to her own mind, and they sped to Pensacola and what kind of hospitals might be there. When she thought about reading to a whole room of patients, she got a little nervous but was extremely curious to find out what might happen physiologically. If I age a few years from reading to one person, how many will I lose if it’s a whole room, and do they even have wards like that in hospitals anymore? As she contemplated, she also thought about the strain it would put on Tristan, having to watch her go through the pain of healing others.

  If Mother Theresa could give up every year of her life to help those in need, Simone thought she could do the same. Hers wouldn’t even be a long commitment. She knew she was nowhere near as amazing a person, but one thing she could do was give. Another was hope that her life meant something after she was gone, that she’d be remembered by those she helped, and that maybe, just maybe, one of them would go on to find a cure for one of the horrible diseases that stole people from their families way too soon.

  “Here’s your dinner!” The waitress’s voice cut through the musings.

  Plates of steaming food were dropped on the table.

  “Need anything else?” She looked hopeful that Tristan would ask her for something.

  “No, thank you. We’re good.” He grinned up at her.

  Simone twittered under her breath. He knew what he was doing to the poor girl, and he obviously loved every second of watching her squirm.

  “If you need anything, you know where to find me.” Red, and tweaking her uniform as she went, the waitress left, only looking over her shoulder once.

  “You’re evil,” Simone whispered.

  “Oh, shush. You know you liked watching her make a fuss.” Tristan picked up his fork and knife. “Let’s eat. This smells awesome.

  It did. Aromas of hot gravy, chili, melty cheese, and grease from the chicken-fried steak wafted to her nose, and she licked her lips. In response, her stomach growled.

  As hotdogs went, hers was one of the best she’d ever wrapped her lips around. It was thick and juicy, and the chili was actual hotdog sauce—a rare find. When she got to the last bite, she moaned and dropped her fork. “I can’t do it. Oh, it’s so freaking good, and I’m so damned full right now!”

  His plate was nearly empty, too, but he was still stuffing his face, and he reached over and dragged her remaining bite in front of him. “I’ll eat it. Wanted to taste it anyway.”

  While she waited on him to finish, she pulled out her phone and sent a text to her dad, filling him in on where she was and what the plans were.

  A message came back a moment later: YOUR MOTHER WANTED TO CALL THE COPS. I TOLD HER NO. KEEP YOUR HEAD DOWN. I PLAN TO STAY HERE A WHILE AND MAKE SURE SHE DOESN’T DO ANYTHING STUPID.

  Simone sighed and typed back: THANKS, DADDY. I OWE YOU BIG TIME.

  BE CAREFUL. LOVE YOU.

  LOVE YOU, TOO. She put the phone on the table a moment and then picked it back up and opened an internet browser window. It didn’t take long for her to find a local children’s hospital right in downtown Pensacola. After searching the address on her nav, she did another search for motels nearby and picked one.

  Tristan finally dropped his fork and leaned back, patting his stomach. “You were right. That hotdog was the bomb. I should ask for the recipe and put it on the menu at Tuck’s.”

  “Right. Because you’ll be able to go back home at some point, right?”

  “You never know. You’re the wanted felon, not me.” He winked, gave her that cocky-ass grin, and nudged her shoulder. “I’m kidding, sweetheart.”

  Even though he said it was a joke, she knew he was bang on. If the Joneses hadn’t managed to get a photo of her, it would all be a moot point. But they did. She wondered if they got a picture of the tags on Tristan’s truck, too. That would be shitty luck. There was a reason they’d gotten a ride on days one and two, and she couldn’t figure out why he’d decided suddenly to be so careless.

  She asked.

  “Huh?” His face pinched. “What made you ask that?”

  “I was sitting here thinking, and I’m wondering if you realize that’ll lead the police right to your family. Did you think about that?”

  He pressed his lips together and turned his face away, shaking his head. “You know, I did, but then I thought there would be no way those people would ever give anyone information about who we were, even if they had it. I threw caution to the wind. It was stupid.”

  “I warned you, though.”

  “Here’s your check,” the waitress said, slapping a piece of paper on the table and shattering the conversation.

  “Thank you!” Tristan grinned at her.

  “Y’all need anything else?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  Her attitude had changed so suddenly, and Simone couldn’t quite figure out what was going on, until she realized she had tears on her face. Wiping them away, she gave the waitress the best smile possible and mouthed, “It’s okay.”

  The girl lifted one eyebrow and cocked her head to the side, pursing her lips. Finally, she scowled at Tristan, turned, and stalked off.

  “What the hell was that about?” he asked.

  “She thought you were being mean to me. Let’s pay that and get outta here.”

  Thirty dollars went on the table to cover the twenty-two-dollar check, and the couple went out the door.

  “You tipped her pretty well,” Simone said, opening the passenger door.

  “She was a good waitress.”

  “Yeah, but it also means she’ll remember us. Big tippers always stick in people’s heads.”

  His mouth made an O shape, and he closed his eyes. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  They got in the car, and she turned toward him once they were back on the interstate. “You always believe the best of people, don’t you?”

  “I guess I do. I honestly never thought those people would betray us in any way.”

  “Well, at least the attorney is protected by privilege.”

  “I know that’s right,” he said.

  “I’m incredibly tired. This has all been so much to take in at once. Wake me up when you need sleep. Here’s where we’re going.” She passed him the phone. Overstressed, she turned toward the window, crossed her arms over her chest, and closed her eyes. The rocking of the car and thumping of the road under the tires soon pulled her into dreamland.

  “We’re here. Time to wake up, sleepyhead!” Tristan’s soft crowing filled the car.

  Yawning, she stretched and sat up. “You drove the whole way?”

  “It wasn’t that far. Anyway, let’s get a room. I’m beat.” He got out and lifted his arms in the air, twisting his torso from side to side.

  “Did we stop at all?” She was aghast that she’d slept through the whole trip.

  “Once. For gas and a
bathroom and snack run.”

  “Oh.” That was when she noticed the empty water bottle and crumpled chip bags between the seats. “I’m sorry.”

  He waved a hand and headed for the office to check them in. A few minutes later, he came back out with a key. “Room two-nineteen.”

  They drove around the back of the motel, Simone taking note of the several seedy vehicles and shady folks standing in the parking lot. She made sure to get all her belongings out of the car, and her grip on her backpack would’ve taken a blowtorch to loosen.

  Tristan didn’t seem to notice, but he also grabbed both his bags before activating the car alarm and heading for the steps that would take the couple to level two. Unlocking the door, he bent at the waist and swept his arm across his body. “After you, my lady.”

  It was silly, but it made her smile, and she figured that was the desired effect. When she stepped over the threshold, the smell of musty carpet and urine invaded her olfactory senses, and she couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose.

  “Certainly smells like a roach motel,” Tristan said, dropping the bags on the floor next to the king-sized bed. “I’m gonna shower. Meet you back here in a bit.” He dug clothes out of one of the duffels and headed for the bathroom. Steam billowed out of the door a minute later.

  Unable to help herself, she crept toward the door and peeked through the crack. His rear end was clearly visible in the mirror, and he wasn’t wearing pants. She stared until he disappeared behind the shower curtain. Every bone in her body wanted to be risqué and strip down to join him, but she figured she’d made enough bad decisions and held her ground.

  When he emerged, he had a towel tied loosely around his waist, and she groaned, turning around. “Put clothes on!”

  “Sweetheart, you’ve seen me naked. What’s the problem here?”

  “I know if I look at you, I’ll want to make love with you, but I’m still angry with you for what happened, so I also don’t want to make love with you.”

  His laughter floated across the room, getting louder as he moved closer to her.

  In a moment, his arms captured her from behind, pulling her backward. He whispered in her ear as he nuzzled his nose into her neck. “And you don’t think I know what me prancing around in a towel does to you?”

  Shivers had her vibrating, and she inhaled, missing his aspen-scented cologne for a nanosecond. Before she had time to second-guess herself, she turned and launched her body at him, tumbling them both to the bed, ripping the towel away.

  She looked into his eyes, and sadness overwhelmed her.

  They made love slowly, tears forming and burning away on her lids sporadically. Everything in her body screamed to be closer to him, to hold on until she couldn’t breathe right, just as it simultaneously told her to run, hide, protect her heart. She warred with her senses as her body moved with Tristan’s.

  “I love you, Simone,” he whispered.

  That drove her over the edge, and she cried out as her body found its release, sobs bursting from her throat.

  Instantly, he pulled back and cupped her chin. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m wonderful,” she responded.

  “Then why are you crying?”

  “I love you, Tristan. Don’t ever betray me again, okay?”

  He pulled her close. “I promise.”

  She wanted to believe him, with everything inside her, she wanted nothing more, but something poked the back of her brain with a warning to be on guard. It was depressing. Rather than let him see how badly he’d impacted her, she snuggled close, put her head on his chest, and closed her eyes, letting sleep take her to a place where she knew everything was fiction and couldn’t be trusted. It was safer.

  When Simone woke, she licked her lips and gagged. Her morning breath was horrendous, and she guessed the taste was akin to eating actual shit. She wriggled out of bed and grabbed her toothbrush and clean clothes, and then she headed for the shower.

  Tristan rolled over and clutched the pillow to his chest, holding on to it like it was a long-lost lover from a past life.

  She giggled, went into the bathroom, shut the door, turned on the light, and screamed.

  He was bursting in a minute later, still completely nude, both hands curled into fists. “Are you okay?”

  Rather than answer, she bolted from the room and leapt on the bed, wrapping her arms around her knees and burying her face.

  Pounding sounds echoed from the bathroom, and it was a long time before Tristan emerged, covered in sweat, his face red. “You’re good. I got them all.”

  “All of them?” Simone was still shaking, but his declaration soothed her nerves a little bit.

  “Yep. And I cleaned up the guts.”

  Relief caused her shoulders to sag, and she jumped off the bed, throwing her arms around his neck. “Thank you!”

  “You nearly gave me a heart attack! I thought you were being murdered, and all I find is a couple of roaches.”

  She pulled back and locked him in a death glare. “Did you see the size of those things? And there were at least twenty of them.”

  “Sweetheart, there were five. Just five.”

  There was no way she was going to be able to take a shower after all that, so she brushed her teeth, sticking her hand through the door to rinse the brush and her head to spit, once, before throwing on clean clothes, picking up her bags, and marching out the door. “We’re moving to a hotel. Let’s go get breakfast.”

  Tristan was right behind her, chuckling.

  They got in the car and drove around downtown Pensacola until they found a diner that looked clean and busy.

  “After we fill your belly and find you a new place to sleep, princess, what would you like to do?” he asked, that damned sexy grin on his face.

  “I’d like to shower first, and then I’d like to discuss what I found when you suggested we come here. I have an idea.”

  His face fell, and he nodded.

  “This isn’t a vacation, Tristan. I’m on the run from the law, and there are things I’d like to accomplish before I get locked up on fraud charges.”

  “It’s fine.”

  It clearly wasn’t fine because his smile had evaporated, but she let it go.

  They ate breakfast in silence, drove to a new hotel, checked in, and went up to the room without saying a word.

  Exasperated, she showered, changed, and came out, taking a seat on the chair at the desk in the corner. “Well, no bugs in this one, anyway.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “How long are you gonna keep this up?” she asked.

  Turning toward her, he let his shoulders sag. “I’m sorry. I know I’m supposed to be here for you, and I’m trying. All this is kinda scary from my end. I know I’m gonna lose you, and I know I won’t try to stop you again, but the fear is real. My heart will be broken when you die. There’s nothing I can do to prevent it, but the facts don’t stop it from hurting.”

  That was a speech she could stomach, get behind, even, but she didn’t really know what to say to him after that. He was right. All she could do was apologize. “I’m sorry, too. Let’s just watch some TV for a little while. We can discuss all the things later.”

  They cuddled up in the bed, turned on the television, and selected a movie. At the end, when the main character and her lover got married, Tristan squeezed Simone and kissed her head. She knew that had become something they’d never have, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be sorry about it. Selfish, yes, but also not. He’ll see. Then he’ll be on board one hundred percent.

  Lunchtime came and went, but they didn’t move. When six rolled around, her stomach complained.

  “Sounds like you’re hungry,” he said.

  “Well, yeah, we haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

  “I’m hungry, too.”

  For some reason, she either didn’t hear or chose to ignore the growl in his voice when he said it, and she started to move toward the edge of the bed. “Great! Let’s get chan�
��”

  His arms enveloped her, and he pulled her backward, letting her fall firmly on the bed. At first, she laughed, but then she saw his eyes, and she tingled.

  They lost themselves for a long time.

  Finally spent, she fell to the pillows with one hand over her heart, the other still behind Tristan’s head, panting.

  “Now I want food,” he said.

  She giggled between breaths. “It’s kinda late.”

  “Let’s order room service.”

  They perused the menu, settling on huge burgers, salads, ice cream, and a fruit plate, and he called everything in to the kitchen.

  It took a while, but the food arrived, filling the room with scents that made Simone’s mouth water hard. The first bite of the burger assaulted her taste buds with the flavor of grill, and she let out a moan.

  “Damn, you don’t even make that sound when we… Uh, you know.”

  “This burger is good.”

  “And I’m not?” His mouth was open in an O, and his eyes were comically wide, fingertips on his chest.

  “Oh, you are, too. Let’s simply say I’m less restrained with food. I’m a lady, after all.”

  He chuckled.

  Dinner was finished without further interruption, and when they got to the fruit plate, Tristan propped himself up in bed, his forehead wrinkling. “Okay. I think I’m ready to talk about it.”

  Exhilaration filled her, and she told him the plan, barely pausing to take a breath between sentences.

  “You know that’ll probably kill you outright.” He’d waited a long time after she was done to say it, and it cut her deeply.

  “Is that all you can think about? Me dying? Can’t you think about all the kids who’ll live because of it? Who get to go on in life and have more, be more, do more?”

  “What about your life? It’s important, too, sweetheart.” Moving closer to her, he took her hands in his own, fixing his eyes on hers.

  “It is important, and I believe me choosing to give everything of myself to others makes my life even more important. It’s my life force that will allow them to keep going. People all throughout history have given their lives to save others. Maybe their loved ones tried to talk them out of it, but did it work? No. How do I know that? Because those people died, and history was changed.”