Chapter 2
Luna shook her head as she watched her feet tread the familiar path back to the house. She frowned at the scuff marks on the toes of her white sneakers. When the hell did I do that? God! She hated white shoes. She always felt like a cartoon with huge feet. An image of Minnie Mouse with monstrous high heels flashed across her vision. Even when she lifted her head and stared forward, all she could see were those damned, white orbs bouncing around the ground. Standard employee footwear. What a crock. Arguing that the policy manual called for clean, not white, sneakers wouldn’t hold water for her boss. Didn’t he know that black sneakers always looked better than white? Screw it. She had bigger battles to consider.
Luna darted across the road and kept her eyes peeled for the Boston “Terrorist” that loved to chase her down the street. That was her new breed name for the little black-and-white tornado that tried to rip her pantyhose or snag her long braid every time she passed his house. She knew he only wanted to play, but she was just too damn tired today. She’d already pulled a double shift and her day wasn’t even close to being over. She should never have thrown that stick for him. The damn thing just wouldn’t let up. At least it kept his focus off her hose. She swore his owners filled his water bowl with Red Bull. Now she knew why she preferred cats. She released her breath in relief when she made it around the corner without being spotted.
Five more houses to pass before she could park her butt on the sofa and catch a few breaths before she had to start dinner. Her temporary bravado boost from the talk with Julie dissipated somewhat when she thought of another night having to listen to Bryan’s voice. It was her own fault, she knew it. She’d been the one to convince him to take her out of Houston. When he’d shown up for her brother’s funeral, she’d actually been excited to see him and all but threw herself in his car the day he was scheduled to return to Austin. She couldn’t take a moment longer in the house that’d seen so much misery.
He’d been her high school sweetheart and she should have remembered her first instinct nine years ago. She’d broken up with him when her mother had fallen ill. Her excuse at playing nursemaid had placated his ego at least. Her juvenile flirt with passion had long since passed at that point. He wasn’t right then, and he certainly wasn’t good for her now. She’d hoped the passing years would have matured him. Perhaps their silly attraction could turn into love. She’d hoped in vain. He was just as self-centered at twenty-six as he’d been at seventeen.
Hell, she couldn’t even settle for just having good sex. He wasn’t cutting it for her. He was just as selfish there as he was anywhere else. The entire goal of their sessions was for her to meet his needs. She’d been brave just once and asked him to tie her up. She wanted to experiment and change up the monotonous trek to finally making him come. That’d been a serious mistake. Not only did he laugh and call her a freak, but he also wasted no time in telling his buddies about his “dirty girlfriend.” She couldn’t stand the lascivious looks from some of the guys when they’d come over and wreck the living room during a TV sports marathon. She didn’t live in this home. She existed strictly as the quiet maid and a convenient hole.
Luna sat heavily on the couch and took a minute to catch her breath. She thought about the money safely stashed in the bank account she’d opened last week and the storage locker around the corner from her pay phone. Soon. She could make her break soon. Timing was everything. Patience was a must. She finally pulled her tired body up and made her way to the kitchen. It was going to be Hamburger Helper tonight. He’d bitch no matter what she whipped up, anyway.
The sound of an engine and the slamming of a car door made her cringe. Right on time. She peeked out the kitchen window over the sink and watched him walk up the sidewalk. He was an extremely handsome man. He hadn’t lost that from his youth. Deep brown hair, a chiseled jaw, and moss-green eyes had snagged her at seventeen and then again at twenty-six. He kept his body in top shape, too. Even so, the thought of being with him made her sick. If he made a move tonight, she’d use her tried and true excuse to divert his attention. He was such an idiot. There were just so many times a girl could say she was on her period before the guy got a clue that she should’ve bled to death by now. Any sane man would have at least shown concern. Luna turned to the refrigerator at the sound of the front door opening. One beer was pulled from the shelf and placed by his recliner. Check. And so began her nightly routine.
* * * *
Cato glanced around and wondered if anyone had noticed how long he’d been parked in the alleyway between an abandoned Laundromat and fading three-star hotel. It was the perfect angle to see the phone booth and he didn’t want to chance moving in case she showed up. He could live with the smell of rank dumpster if she’d only appear. He’d thought about misting and staying by the booth, but that would probably get his truck towed for abandonment. If a cop came up, he could just hear his lame excuse going over real well. Uhhh…yeah. I’m obsessed with a voice and I need to see what’s attached to it. No, officer, I swear I’m not a stalker.
Cato snorted in derision, glanced at his phone, and grimaced. Over an hour and he hadn’t seen her. He felt like seven kinds of fool for parking his butt in this spot for three days in a row now, yet he just couldn’t seem to stop coming here when it got close to the time she usually called the hotline. He was worried. She’d called one other time, but none since then. Had Bryan finally gone over the edge and hurt her? How would he exact revenge if he had no idea where to start? His gut clenched at the thought that she might have already left town. That was unacceptable. He’d drive himself crazy trying to find her. Cato scrubbed his face and released a rumbling growl. Maybe he should call the hotline. Perhaps they handled self-abuse calls as well?
Disgusted with himself, he got out of the truck and leaned against the brick wall to stretch his legs. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and remembered her last conversation. She’d been happy to get Julie back on the phone. It seemed easier for her to reveal more of her sad story now that she knew who she was talking to. Cato found himself surprised, yet extremely pleased at what she initially revealed. She was an artist, a tattoo artist to be exact. At least that was her aspiration if she could get away from Bryan.
Cato looked down at his own art, rubbed the gunmetal-gray balls lining his ear, and grinned. At least she wouldn’t be freaked and think him a hoodlum. Like attracts like, right? She’d spoken with pride of the multiple tattoos she’d designed and now wore. She’d never said what kind and that just tweaked his curiosity all the more. Bryan had liked them at one time, which brought further confusion as to his sanity. His attitude had changed drastically once he’d gotten her back to Austin. His heartfelt promise to help her put together a portfolio of her work so she could acquire a permanent seat at a tattoo studio had quickly gone bust. Suddenly, her skin art repulsed him. He was telling her they made her trashy and not socially acceptable. He’d even alluded to having them removed. Gods! The guy was a total dickhead. He was systematically destroying whatever goals she set, her dreams, her identity, and eventually it would be her spirit. Cato was gleefully imagining tattooing his knuckles to the asshole’s forehead when his handheld chirped.
Swinging his head to the left, Cato’s gut clenched when he spotted a woman standing at the booth. Her back was to him and she was wearing a blue ball cap. He immediately squashed the urge to run over and introduce himself. He rolled his eyes at the stupidity of the thought. “Yeah, let’s just scare the shit out of her while we’re at it.” Forcing himself to calm, Cato moved into mist form and approached the booth. He was surprised at his immediate disappointment when he spotted a short, blonde ponytail sticking out from the back of the cap. Maybe he was having a PTSD moment from his Candy incident.
As he rounded the booth, he saw she had the phone attached to her ear and he couldn’t make out her features. When her voice spilled out into the humid air, frustration skittered across his energy grid and he stopped in midstride. It wasn’t her. She had a p
leasant enough voice, but it did nothing for him. She was asking someone to come get Donk. That made him pause for a moment. Donk? Did he hear that correctly? If he could’ve laughed, he would have. After a few moments of eavesdropping, he realized Donk was a pain-in-the-ass cat that’d been left at her house for “way too long,” in her opinion.
Cato slid his energy away from the booth and drifted back toward his truck. Discontentment clung heavily to his molecules as he waged an internal battle whether to stay or just give the nonsense up and head back to the shop.
A soft meow pulled him away from the decision. He gazed down, somewhat surprised to see a solid-black cat with piercing, gold eyes staring up at him while running in and out of his energy grid. How did it even know he was there? Cato vibrated the field and was surprised it didn’t scare the animal away. In fact, it had the opposite effect. The cat began purring loudly and bouncing in the air. It appeared to be strung out on catnip. The more Cato backed away, the harder the cat pursued. He found it fascinating.
“Donk! What the hell! Come back here!”
Cato looked up to see the blonde woman from the booth cautiously approaching the crazed animal. Cato moved his energy to the top of the truck as the woman bent down and pried Donk away from the heavy, iron bumper.
“Calm down, you damn maniac! As much as I wish you’d disappear, I’ve got to find a home for you. Marisol can’t take you back, so you’re stuck with me. Quit twisting. I swear, if you scratch me, we’re heading straight for the pound!”
Cato stared curiously at the retreating pair. Donk was screeching as if someone had caught his tail in a door while Blondie ducked her head in embarrassment as she shoved the demented creature into her car. If Cato hadn’t known better, he would’ve thought the animal a Lemarok. It displayed the same tendencies of bonding as the creature indigenous to his home world.
Cato reformed inside his truck and laughed as the red Mustang GT squealed away from the parking lot. Poor Donk. By the way he was flying all over the car’s interior, he’d probably be staring out from a set of bars within the next hour. Cato chuckled to himself. “Thanks, Donk. I needed a laugh.”
Cato twitched when his cell phone rang. “Shit!” He glanced down at the lighted screen and saw Severus’s name. His friend started talking before he could say hello.
“Hey, can you get over here to Cassie’s office?”
Cato frowned at the tension in Severus’s words. “Sure. Where and what do I need to bring?”
“Fourth-level parking and bring that thing that sniffs out explosives and bugs.”
Chest tightening, Cato growled into the receiver. “What the hell happened?”
“Tires slashed and some creative carving on the hood. I don’t want to chance they have some additional goodies riding along.”
“I’ll be there in five.” Ending the call, Cato glanced back to the booth and shook his head. “What the hell am I doing? I’ve got better things to do than sit around like a chump waiting for something that doesn’t exist.”
Comforted by the smooth growl of the motor, Cato shifted gears and sped away from the corner of Johns Avenue and I-35, a place with no future and nothing to offer.
* * * *
The truck had just made a smooth turn onto Sixth and LaVaca when Cato heard the chirp of his handheld signaling an outbound call from the phone booth. He refused to get excited. His heart couldn’t take much more false hope. He’d already endured listening to a kid begging his mom to come put gas in his car and a sobbing man promising his wife he wouldn’t cheat anymore. Neither one had a happy ending. He should just turn the damn thing off and focus on what he might encounter in the parking garage.
“Austin Abuse Hotline. How can I help you?”
Cato’s chest tightened when he heard the loveliest sound in his life. He immediately swerved to keep from scrapping along the parking garage’s third-level wall. “Fuck me,” he muttered.
“Julie? Is that you?”
“Yes. Hi there! Good to hear from you again. Are you doing okay?”
“I’m much better. I’ve got enough money to make a break for it. I’ve been selling some of my drawings and that pushed me over the goal I set. I just have some small items to sneak out of the house, but I should be able to leave sometime this week. I can’t take everything or he’ll notice. That’s what got me busted last time.”
“That’s wonderful! I’m very proud of you for meeting your goal. Will you promise to call me when you leave so I’ll know you’re okay?”
Say yes became a chant in Cato’s brain. He swerved into an open parking spot and glanced up at Severus. He was pacing next to Cassie’s beat-to-shit Toyota, now sporting several flat tires. The expression on his face was that of a severely pissed-off male. Cassie sat dejected on a stone bench and looked as if someone had just beaten her dog. Poor baby! Cato’s head battled with his heart on whether to turn the handheld off or wait just a few seconds more to learn what his beautifully voiced enigma had to say. The seconds won out.
“Sure. I can do that. I’m still a little nervous. I’m getting my bus ticket tomorrow. It’s going to be a little difficult since he’s going on third shift rotation. He’ll be home. I’ll have to trust that he stays asleep.”
“Be careful. I’d feel much better if I knew you would call the police so they can escort you to the bus station. They won’t let him near you.”
At Severus’s quick nod, Cato gathered up the sniffing equipment and jumped out of the truck. His heart warmed at Cassie’s expression of complete trust when Severus kneeled in front of her. It was as if his friend could save her world by his very existence. Lucky bastard. Cato reached out to switch off the handheld, only to have his breath catch in his throat at the soft words drifting to his ears.
“I can’t call the cops. He is one.”
Cato closed the door to his truck and wished he could split in two. One half left to handle the possible danger to his two best friends waiting patiently for his assistance, while the other fled to Johns Avenue and I-35 to help someone with odds for failure stacking higher by the minute.
Chapter 3
The phone made a soft click as Luna placed the handset back in the cradle. It felt good to share her accomplishment with someone. For the last three days, she’d run herself ragged selling her pictures on Sixth street. By the time she got off work, grabbed a bus, hustled her pictures for an hour, jumped back on a bus, and ran home before Bryan arrived, she was ready to drop where she stood. It was sheer happiness that kept her on her feet. She’d only had three days to get extra cash. Once Bryan went on third shift, he’d be hanging around the house during her off hours. It would be next to impossible to escape without facing an inquisition.
One good thing had come out of her desperation to beat Bryan home. She’d learned a new shortcut that helped her avoid the black-and-white nemesis and gave her a direct line to the house. She should have thought of it sooner. Neighborhood kids always had the best routes to dodge their parents. Luna felt her smile fade when she saw a passing police cruiser one road over from the alley she was walking down. Uh oh. Was that Bryan? Crap! No. I’m just paranoid. Calm down you nut. Despite her reassurances, Luna broke into a run.
Luna’s heart beat like a trapped bird as she practically flew through the back door. She felt sweat beading on her upper lip when she looked out the kitchen window and watched the cruiser pull along the curb. When Bryan’s handsome face turned toward the house, she felt lightheaded and bent down to the sink. “Shit! He just left an hour ago. What the hell is he doing home?”
Quickly, she splashed water on her face and patted it dry. She closed her eyes and willed herself to calm. Her wishes held no sway on reality. She wasn’t supposed to be out of the house and would be hard pressed to explain why she looked like she’d just run a marathon. Luna scrambled over to the TV and shoved a workout DVD into the side slot. He might get mad that she’d dug it out of the trash, but it was better than the alternative. She fumbled with the remote until
a perky blonde appeared and encouraged her to lift her leg past her ear. Luna dropped to the carpet and struck a pose as Bryan walked through the door.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Luna glanced up and smiled. “I felt like working out. I’ve been doing a lot of walking, as you know, and thought I’d build up my endurance.”
A lump lodged in Luna’s throat when Bryan scowled, snatched the remote from her hand, and punched the pause button. She lifted up from the floor and stared at him, not sure what to expect. As his gaze traveled from her face to the carpet, she glanced down and grimaced. Shit! I still have my uniform on.
“What did I tell you about working out? You’re wasting your time.” Green eyes narrowed, he glanced toward the TV before swiveling his head back to her. “This just started. Why are you breathing so heavily? Your face is flushed and you’re sweating. What’ve you been doing?”
Luna squashed a grimace. Damn observant cop! “Uhhh…I did some jumping jacks and pushups before I started the DVD?” Luna inwardly cringed when her words sounded more like a question than a statement. She was a horrible liar and wasn’t surprised at the look of rage that passed over Bryan’s face. However, she was certainly not prepared for the firm grip on her upper arm as he started dragging her through the house and flipping doors open. His voice was lethal.
“Who were you with? Where is he?”
Luna dug her heels into the carpet and tried to pull away from the unrelenting grip to her arm. “What the hell are you talking about? There’s no one here.”
Fueled by Lust: Cato (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 2
