by J. A. Huss
Devil? I ask. You got anything for me tonight?
He pops up on my empty shoulder holding a half-eaten ham sandwich, chews slowly for a few seconds, then shrugs. He’s gonna fuck things up sooner or later. You watch.
I am watching. Very closely. But Tyler is making all the right moves lately. He gave me space, but stuck around. Like… that’s not normal. That’s almost… considerate, right?
Right! Angel says.
He just wanted more putang pie, Devil chimes in.
Did you just say putang pie? I shake my head and he disappears. He’s losing and he knows it. Tyler is being pretty understanding about my stripper job, after all. Like, I’m sure he hates it. I’m sure he wants to tell me to quit. Hell, he probably wants to throw me over his shoulder and carry me out of here, then lock me up in his bedroom and never let me leave.
Which lately doesn’t sound all that terrible.
But he’s holding back on all that stuff. Giving me space or whatever. Letting me figure shit out on my own. Which I appreciate because I’m not actually stupid. I’ve just made a lot of stupid mistakes these past few years. My life since Scotty died has been one long string of pure panic. Like I was underwater and couldn’t breathe. Stuck under ice.
And I think I showed Tyler something about me too. That I can forgive. That I can understand. And that I can be there for him the same way he’s just kinda being here for me.
His dad, God. What an asshole. But Tyler’s so strong. Not like me. If that’d been my dad—unable to see me standing right in front of him because we hadn’t talked in so long and life had changed me beyond recognition—well, let’s just say I wouldn’t have been able to put it behind me that same night. Let’s just say I wouldn’t have been able to accept the kindness of friends to help me do that. Let’s just say… I’d have let that little encounter derail me for months, if not years.
He’s not like me at all. And maybe I need that in my life? Someone who fills in all my vacant spaces. Someone who makes up for what I lack. Someone who gets me, doesn’t judge, and makes me better.
Someone who completes you, Angel says.
Yeah. Someone like that.
Raven comes into the little office, which is where I’ve been hiding since I changed into my jeans and t-shirt because Tyler should be here any minute now to take me out to the Hoover Dam project and do the drone work.
Maddie—this is me talking—he’s taking you to the Hoover Dam for sex, not the drone work.
Yeah… I think I know that. And once again, things that had me uptight and angry last week just don’t seem to rattle my chain like they used to. Sex with Tyler tonight sounds perfect, actually.
But date night aside, I really hope Tyler can fly my drone. Because I’m not all that good at it. And even though this whole drone thing is a long shot, I feel attached to it. The idea of it. Like somehow the drone is part of this whole healing process I think I’m going through. Symbolic or whatever. Wings. Flight. Freedom.
Which is a very naïve association, Devil says, back now, sans sandwich. Because Carlos is still after you. And Logan—
Yeah… that fucking Logan asshole. There’s a part of me that thinks he’s the real problem here, not Carlos. Like Carlos is a bad dude and all. And he’s definitely gonna kill me, or kidnap me, or something equally horrible if I don’t come up with a plan real quick. But Logan… he’s worse somehow. Evil. I can almost feel his wickedness—
“Maddie!”
I snap out of my thoughts and find Raven and another girl staring at me. “What? Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Jesus.” She sighs. “Your man is upstairs talking to Pete. So get outta here. I got business to do with—” She looks the new girl up and down, then says, “Rose?” Shakes her head. “Lola? No, I hated the last Lola. How about… Aspen?”
The new girl is wide-eyed and still. Like she’s got no idea what’s happening.
God, I kinda felt that way too when I first started. I wonder what her story is? Why she needs money? She looks too young to have a daycare bill. Maybe school? Maybe she’s paying her way through school?
“Aspen?” Raven snaps. All business—which translates to bitchy—just like she was with me that night I got hired. “You’re a grown-up. Use your words.”
“Sure,” she stammers. “Aspen. Whatever.”
Raven turns her back to newly-christened Aspen, and she’s smiling. Deviously. I squint at her, but she gives me a small shake of her head that says, Later, and forces her smile back down to a frown. “Well, have a good time tonight with Tyler.”
She’s been weirdly… nice to me lately. In fact, I’ve noticed she’s like this a lot. Meaning she’s mean and bitchy to everyone at first. Like your older sister who feels it’s her job to set you right when you wander off the straight and narrow. But once you get into the groove—like become part of Pete’s little stripper family or whatever—she’s kinda friendly. Comes off as just… protective.
“Thanks,” I say, meaning it. “It’s actually business and pleasure. But I think the business is actually pleasure too.”
Raven lets her smile loose again. She softens, just a little. And she looks younger all of a sudden. Not washed up at all, but just wise. “Go on, get out of here.”
I nod, pick up my backpack, sling it over my shoulder, and leave them to their own business.
Walking down the hallway towards the stairs to Pete’s office, I spy Candy working a group of guys. She just got promoted to Saturday nights. Couple girls just kinda disappeared over the last week, which is pretty common around here. And I’m the one who told Pete and Raven that Candy deserves a chance for weekend shifts.
It makes me feel good. I mean, I got her a better stripper job, not a career in banking. But it’s a chance she needed. She does have kids. And a huge daycare bill because she’s a single mom.
But it makes me feel sad too. I look around at this place—a place that’s kinda become like a second home to me over the past few months—and it suddenly feels… over. Candy moving up, the new girl… it’s like I had my shot and now I’m done. It’s their turn now.
That’s not rational, I know this. Carlos still thinks I owe him a shitload of money, but I know the truth. I know I don’t owe him that money. I know I’m right. I know I’ve been doing the best I can. I know that strippers are just people—struggling with past mistakes, or bad relationships—who have few options left.
So I sucked it up, came here, and made the most of my mediocre opportunity. Just like Candy’s doing.
I also know… I’m not the same person I was a few months ago when I started this job. My past came back to haunt me, for sure. But sometimes the scariest things are the ones you’re running from, not the reality they bring when they catch up to you.
I’m stronger today than I was yesterday because I think I might be able to let Scotty just…die his death and deal with it.
I think I might be ready to move on.
Tyler did that, Angel says.
And for once, as I climb the stairs up to Pete’s office and hear the murmur of him and Tyler talking at the top, I don’t call the devil to get his opinion on the matter.
Because she’s right.
I’m right, because I’m her.
Tyler did do that.
Sometimes angels fall.
And that’s OK.
Because there are lots of people who still give a shit. There are lots of people willing to extend a hand and lift you back up.
I’m not Tyler’s angel.
He’s mine.
Chapter Seventeen - Tyler & Maddie
TYLER
There’s a soft knock on Pete’s office door. From where I’m sitting in my Pete-facing chair, I turn to see Maddie swing the door open and poke her head in right as Pete answers the question I just asked him. “Shit, kid, I dunno. Maybe a couple hundred? Not all confirmed. It was the fuckin’ jungle.”
Maddie gives me a ‘what the fuck are you talking about?’ look. I shak
e my head the tiniest bit in a ‘you don’t wanna know’ response, and smile. She smiles back. Which makes me hard.
Jesus. If I don’t stop getting hard in front of Pete, I’m worried he’s gonna get the wrong idea. I mean he’s a cool old guy and all, but—
“Scarlett.” Pete waves to her and says, “Can you do me a favor?”
“Uh, sure. What’s up?”
“Can you take this guy off my hands? I got accounting to do.”
Pete…
There’s almost the hint of a smile in his question. Almost. That’s OK. I know Pete likes me. I’m not sure why it’s so important to me what Pete thinks of me, but it seems to be, so I’m glad I’m confident he thinks I’m so excellent.
“Sure,” Maddie says. “Thanks for letting me off early.”
Pete shrugs. “It ain’t Starbucks. If you don’t steam the milk, there’s a buncha other girls who’ll heat it up instead.”
“Ha!” I laugh. “Fucking killer metaphor, man.”
Pete sighs. “See? Seems like the only way to keep this asshole here from bugging me all night is to send him off with you.”
I smile. I knew he liked me. I slap his desk, stand, extend my hand.
“You’re a good man, Pete.”
Pete forces himself up from his chair, seizes my grip.
“I’m a no-good son-of-a-bitch. I’m just your kinda no-good son-of-a-bitch.”
We shake. And for a second, I feel like I can glimpse what Pete might have been like as a younger man. There’s a ghost behind his eyes that peeks out at me.
Like, you wouldn’t know it meeting him on the street, but the guy has one of the kindest hearts you’ll ever encounter. You can tell he just wants to do the right thing by people. Even if he doesn’t always know what that is.
Something about that gives me hope.
I smile and say, “See ya, Pete.”
He nods at me. “Tyler.”
I turn to Maddie. She’s so sweet, and pretty, and fucking sexy, and her jeans look good, and her tits look amazing, and she’s watching me with a look that says she’s nervous but excited, and I’m still trying to hide my fucking erection from Pete, and I start to take her hand, but then I stop because I’m not sure if I should in front of Pete, but then I go to take it again, stop again, step past her to the door, open it for her, and wave her forward to take her leave.
She smirks at me and shakes her head. I assume because she can’t wrap her brain around how I can be so sexy, dangerous, indestructible, hot as shit, and adorable all at the same time.
As opposed to not being able to wrap her brain around what a fucking dipshit I am. Y’know, could go either way.
Maddie grins back at Pete and also says, “See ya, Pete.”
There is an honest-to-goodness smile in his eyes (if not on his lips) as he looks at her, then at me, then back to her.
“What?” she asks him on a tiny chuckle.
He shakes his head, says, “Nothin’,” then nods at her, offering a, “See ya, Maddie.”
She walks past me through the open door, and just as I’m about to pull it shut and go, seemingly out of nowhere, Pete says, “Flanagan.”
“What?” I ask, looking over my shoulder in time to see him spin in his chair and take the urn off the shelf behind him and begin polishing it with a cloth.
“My name,” he says, not turning around to face us. “It’s Flanagan.”
A big grin spreads across my face, and Maddie looks at me, quizzically. But I just shake my head slightly and let the smile live there, unexplained.
Pete…
With his back still to us, he raises his meaty hand in another goodbye, and as I close the door shut, and he disappears out of sight, I find myself… unexpectedly nervous too.
We pull into the empty parking lot and, looking out the window, Maddie says, “Wow.”
“I know, right?”
“People made this. People, like, made this,” she says.
“I know.”
The Hoover Dam is incredible. It’s the perfect blending of the enormous power of the natural world and the ingenuity and effort of the human animal.
Or else it’s the perfect symbol of our struggle to control the seemingly uncontrollable.
Or else it’s just a big fucking hunk of concrete and steel that looks really cool and is, like, super pretty at night when it’s all lit up.
Maybe it’s all three.
“Yeah,” I say, throwing the car into park. “When Evan got his driver’s license, we’d come out here at night sometimes and like, sneak around, drink, bring girls. Well, Evan wouldn’t. Bring girls, I mean. Obviously. But, yeah, we’d do that shit.”
“Really?” she asks.
“Yeah… Scotty probably never said anything about it, huh?”
“No. He didn’t.” She’s wearing a frown, now.
“Well, I mean, you were, like, eleven. That’d be a weird thing to talk to your eleven-year-old sister about.”
“What? Trespassing, underage drinking, and hooking up with skanks?”
“Hey!” I point my finger at her. “They were not skanks! They were delicate flowers just starting to blossom into womanhood!”
She drops her chin and gives me a bored expression.
“And Maybe... Like... Five. Skanks. Tops,” I say.
She pats me on the knee and opens the door, letting in the chilly night air.
I hop out of the cab and open the rear door to grab the drone from the back seat. She opens the rear door on her side and snatches up her backpack.
“Careful with it,” she says.
“What am I gonna do? Drop it? Oh, shit!” I shout, as I pretend to drop it. I’m a practical joker. Everybody loves it. Except Maddie, I guess.
“Dude, don’t be…you. With my drone, please.”
I nod and proceed to be overly precious about handling the fancy flying machine. She rolls her eyes and pushes the door shut. I’m killing this date so far. Fucking killing it!
A guy in a security guard outfit comes strolling up to us. As he approaches, Maddie asks, “This your friend?”
“Uh… Yeah,” I offer back, probably too tentatively.
“What?” she asks, sharply.
“Nothing. Just he’s not exxxxaaaactly my friend… Exactly,” I draw out.
“Fuck does that mean?”
“Nothing, just—Hey, man!” I say convivially, putting up one hand. “You Terry?”
“Yup,” he says back.
“Hey, man, I’m Tyler,” I say, offering him a shake.
He’s a young guy. Early twenties. Kinda skinny. Dressed in the poorly-fitted, not-quite-brown, not-quite-grey garb of privately contracted security personnel. He doesn’t take my hand. That’s fine. I don’t need him to be my BFF.
I set the drone down on the hood of my car, open the driver’s side door, reach over into the glove box, and pull out a manila envelope. One of the ones with the clasp closure. Not the self-adhesive kind. Those suck. I mean this one has adhesive too, but it also has the clasp. Because that’s how you can be sure it stays closed. This isn’t my mind rambling. This is the process I went through briefly when deciding which envelope I should stuff ten thousand dollars in cash into.
“Here you go.” I hand it to him. He sticks his finger in the flap and just rips it open. (Jesus. Don’t even know why I try sometimes.) He looks inside. Then casts a glance at me while still looking inside. Then twists his neck like somehow he’ll be able to see it better from a different angle. Weirdo.
“We good?” I ask.
He makes a sucking sound with his teeth and nods, then wanders back to the security station and closes the door. Sweet. That was easy. Now we’ll just—
“What the hell was that?” Maddie asks, rounding the Defender.
“What? That’s Terry. Me and him go way back.”
“Uh-huh. And what was in the envelope that you handed your old buddy Terry?”
“We gonna fly this drone or what?” I ask with excitement. Becau
se, y’know, fun-loving Tyler. That’s what they call me.
“Did you just pay that guy so that we can be here?”
“Um, NO.” She looks at me with… not skepticism. What do you call it when…? Oh! Yeah. Like I’m full of shit. That’s it.
“No,” I almost plead. “Honestly, NO. I did not pay him so that we can be here.”
“…O…K,” she says reluctantly.
“I paid him so that we can go down into the tunnels.”
“Jesus, Tyler—”
“What? It’s cool. It’ll be cool. I mean, yeah, we’ll do the drone thing and whatever, blah, blah, blah, but the TUNNELS! The tunnels are so COOL!”
I kinda do a little dance for her, like John Belushi does as Bluto in Animal House when he’s trying to cheer up Flounder.
And she is as unmoved by my attempt at frivolity as Flounder was.
“Fuck,” I say as I stop my jig. “Look, I—I haven’t been on a, y’know, a date in like…well…maybe ever, when I come to think of it. So—”
“You’ve NEVER been on a date?” she interrupts.
“I—Like, no. I don’t think so.”
“How is that possible?”
“What? How many dates have you been on?”
“Dates? I, uh…” She pauses. “Well… Shit. Have I never been on a real date?” she asks herself, presumably rhetorically.
“See?” I almost accuse. “Like, y’know, I’d just hook up, or like meet someone at a party, or, y’know… accidentally get it on with my friend’s sister in the VIP room of a strip club…”
Oh, shit. I was making a joke but that may have been a bridge to far. That’s what the look on her face is telling me. Gotta walk this back. Quick.
“Hell, I’m sorry. I’m…stupid.”
“Noooooo. Really?”
“Fuck. I was… I just… I just wanna show you some cool shit that meant something to me when I was a kid. That’s all. It was important to me, this place was. For a lot of reasons. And not to be too… whatever… but I had some really good times with Scotty and Evan here too. Like fun, innocent kid shit. And I know you can’t go home again, like Tom Wolfe said, but—”
