Blue, Light and Dark (Chubby Chasers, Inc. Series Book 2)

by Brashears, Angie M.

  Before the tears fall, he swipes at them, great big angry gestures, before he shakes his head as if to clear the screen. The voice he continues in, with a sly, calculated undertone, is one I’ve never heard from him. “You never learned how Gretchen and I met, did you?” I shake my head, but he doesn’t notice, just keeps going in that voice that makes my skin break out in a cold sweat.

  “She was just some hooker I hired to come to the house and let me tie her up and feed her. I got the tying up part down, but when I started to feed her, really get my nut on, she stopped me.”

  He gives me a pointed look. “I was young and inexperienced then, Blue. Don’t get your hopes up.” My heart breaks in my chest.

  “She started with the usual, crying and begging, the usual when a feeding’s about to start but she did something different. She made me laugh. ‘What’s that smell?’ Her nose wrinkled up like a little pink piggy. There was very little laughing going on in that house of horrors before Gretchen. Believe me. She was the breath of fresh air that I needed.

  “‘It’s my mother. Wanna see?’ I asked. Hoping to impress her, I quickly untied her and led her down to the rumpus room. My mother’s new room. Honestly, it had been days since I’d been down there. I really didn’t think she’d still be alive. But she was. Lying in her own filth on the same bed where I was made to do vile things.

  “She begged for help, pleaded with me, but I was immune to her by that point. Gretchen wasn’t, though, and had already taken in the huge house and the teenaged boy running things and decided that what I needed was help. Someone to come in and take care of things. She even thought about calling 911, but I stopped her. ‘But I want her to die!’ I was such a brat back then.

  “Gretchen knew just what I needed. She was a working girl, after all. Knew how to read her clients. She led me up the stairs to my room where she laid me on the bed, all the while stroking, petting, so like the bitch mother tied to the bed, and I was able to get my head on right after hours and hours of time with her. She lay on top of me—I was much skinnier back then—her much heavier…smothering me with her luscious tits…until I got my head on straight.”

  He eyes me, cataloging each of my features.

  “She was the one to bring in the nurse, not me. That was just a lie we told. Like I said, I wanted my mother out of my life. Eliminated. But Gretchen brought in the nurse—not a real nurse, I wouldn’t allow it. Just an ex-hooker to keep the beast’s pulse beating. Then came housekeepers, gardeners, the works. To keep up appearances, she said. By that time, I’d given Gretchen control of everything. I welcomed the help and was glad to be rid of the responsibility. Everything I have, I owe to Gretchen. She’s always known what to do.”

  He smiles, but it’s not for me, this dirty-boy grin. “Whenever I fuck up.”

  “She even brought Sasha to us. Another caretaker disguised under a crusty exterior. Very smart, maybe too smart... I’ll have to keep an eye on her from here on out. That’s the short of it. Are you full?”

  I nod with enthusiasm. Untie me now please so I can stab you in the fucking heart.

  “That’s too bad…I brought flan.” The sadness in his eyes doesn’t sway me. I can’t believe they let him out of that joke of a hospital. When I get loose of this bed and him, I’m suing!

  At the sight of the large black trash bags he shakes out, fear curdles my stomach, and I retch freely, spitting the roll from my mouth. “Javi, no!” I cry, wondering how many trash bags pieces of me are going to fill.

  He looks from me to the trash bags and laughs. “These aren’t for you. It’s for the trash, so the animals don’t come.”

  He moves around the room, dumping containers, dishes, evidence, into the bags. He leaves to take out the trash, and he’s gone so long I start to scream. “Javi! Let me up. Javi!” My heart’s racing. Black spots are threatening my vision. This is what real fear feels like.

  When he comes back in, he’s freshly showered and dressed and continues talking like he never left. He offers me a sip of water, which I take, and stands over me. Thinking? Plotting? Who knows.

  When he speaks, I hear resignation in his voice. “I have a very convenient diagnosis. Do you know what it is?”

  I shake my head, too numb to cry.

  “Of course you don’t, Bonita. I never told you what it was, and you, my Blue, never asked.” The chastising tone he uses scares the pee out of me. I feel the wetness between my legs and start to cry, mumbled pleas falling from my lips.

  Which he ignores. “Dissociative intentity disorder. I forget bad things that happen to me, so I don’t have to deal with them. Too painful. Basically, out of sight, out of mind. So you don’t have to worry about me anymore, Blue. I got what I wanted. And once I walk out those doors,” he turns and points for effect, “I won’t even remember I ever had it.” He leans down and strokes my sticky, tear-stained cheek. “Adios, Bonita,” he whispers.

  Despite my begging, pleading, and screaming he never looks my way, never even breaks stride, just turns out the lights, moving on autopilot. He locks up and leaves me in the shadows of the house. It took such a long time to get there, I hope he’s just going to get condoms. But I’m way past lying to myself now. Believing he’s coming back? Not gonna happen.

  Still I scream till I’m spitting blood. All I get for the effort is a headache.

  I am well and truly fucked. And I’m gonna die a skinny virgin.

  Javi

  I use the drive down the hill to get my head on straight. It takes some effort, but I’m able to swing that mental door closed and slap a proverbial padlock in place, hoping never to open it again. By the time I stop for gas and an Egg McMuffin, the last few hours feel like some movie I watched a long time ago. Something foreign, with subtitles.

  When I turn into my driveway, I’m feeling more like sweet Javi, ready to do the Ladies bidding. Sasha sees the truck pull up and is down the steps before I even get my seatbelt off. Jeez, slow your roll, I’ll get the mail later, I think as I get out of the car.

  “Where’s Blue?” she asks, and for just a moment, a split second, I don’t know who’s she’s talking about. Wait, Bonita?

  I don’t know where the lie comes from, but it leaves my lips easy enough. “She wanted to stay in Vegas a few more days, spend some money.” Probably spending my four million as we speak, but I don’t add this. Sasha doesn’t need to know Blue’s true colors. They’re all alike, milk a man for all he’s worth, everything he’s worked so hard for, then drop them into the dirt. Done with him. She backs away, her blabbermouth shut for once, staring into my eyes. I don’t know who she sees there, but it’s not someone she wants to push.

  Then I go about my day, catching a nap where I can. They avoid me, which is the smart thing to do. I’m not fully in control of myself yet. I feel like someone else is pulling the strings.

  It’s not till Gretchen, a few days later, finds me, holding out the phone.

  “What’s happened? She’s not taking my calls. Javi. Did you leave her at the altar? Call her. See if she’ll answer from your phone.”

  “I don’t wanna talk about this,” I say, walking away. “I don’t want to talk about her ever again! I wasn’t good enough for her. She saw it and left.”

  She runs up beside me. Pulling me into a hug. “Is this the same as before?” she whispers into my ear. I don’t know why, but my head nods once. I see the red cyclone coming down the hall, and not wanting to be ganged up on, I head out. For a ride. To get my head on straight.

  And I start thinking to myself that it has been a while since I’ve heard from Blue. She wanted to talk about my mother and her death, and I didn’t want to. That’s the last thing I remember. It’s weird, but I have to really think to even remember what color her eyes were. Blue? Is that why we called her Blue? Hazel? Brown? I shake my head. I’ll think about this tomorrow. I really need to start that medication, I think, with a shake of my head. Maybe it’ll help with this mental black hole my memory has become.

  * *
*

  I pull into the strip mall after gassing up the Suburban. It’s Sunday, time to get the mail. It’s more of the same, taking care of the Ladies, and I go about my day on autopilot.

  ###

  Turn the page to read the HEA (Happily Ever After) ending.

  Or click here to jump to the back matter.

  HEA - Happily Ever After

  Blue

  After a fitful sleep thrashing and turning in the foreign bed that was so comfortable yesterday but this morning feels like a bag full of hammers, I wake with a new resolve. Grab life by the horns.

  I decided to go over oatmeal.

  A boat trip. It will be another first for me, and why the hell shouldn’t I? That anger again rears its ugly head as I think of the why not…Javi. His absence blaring like a foghorn in my heart. Where are you? Why can’t you control yourself? I think to myself as I follow the map that will bring me to Frankie.

  As I pull into the parking lot and find a spot, I make a deal with myself. No more Javi. Period. Not today. It’s not fair to Frankie, and like Sasha said, no one has copyright on Blue Belle. It takes me a minute to find him. I scan the boats in their slips, shading my eyes against the early morning sun, till I see him. His back is to me, he’s surrounded by dogs, doing something with ropes. I’m fifteen minutes late, but I can tell by the lazy way he moves he would’ve waited for me all day.

  He jumps the side of the railing, landing with both feet on the dock. Directly in front of me, a huge cocky grin on his face.

  “Hi, crazy,” I say, giving him a smile back. “You better be careful. You almost landed in the drink there.”

  He just shakes his head and pulls me into a salty hug. “Blue, if you never jump, you’ll never get the chance to land on your own two feet.”

  “Well said, Confucius. Do I need to jump now, or is there a gangplank somewhere?” I search the side of the boat, looking for the big-girl entrance.

  He walks to the side of the brass railing, pulls it open with a bow, and says in whatever accent that is, “Your chariot awaits, madam.”

  I make a show of waltzing onto the boat, head high, hand holding an imaginary hankie as I take his extended hand. I hold the pose for about ten seconds, until I feel wet noses in my crotch, and bend over giggling. “Oh, my goodness, I missed you guys, too!” Butts wag, tongues lick, and I don’t miss my fickle Sam one bit.

  When the pack disperses a bit, I get my first look at the dogs. They’ve all got doggie life vests on. I smile as I examine the pup-saving contraptions. Frankie comes up behind me. “Safety first,” he says, putting me into a pink vest and leading me to the control center of the boat. “Keep me company?” he asks, and before I can think, I say, “Always.”

  During the ride out to open water—Frankie steers between fishing boats like a pro—we fall into an easy conversation about nothing in particular. Well, nothing serious. Yes, he’s a huge Star Wars fan. No, he doesn’t think Darth Vader was all bad, just misunderstood. You know, the usual.

  Once clear of the boats, he turns off the engine and teaches me to hoist the sails. “Is this your boat?” I ask.

  He nods, doling out rope. “Yep, mine fair and square. I won it.”

  My eyebrow cocks, and I almost let go of the rope I’m supposed to be holding. “Won it how?” My interest is definitely piqued.

  He shrugs. “A card game. How else?” As if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Well, maybe natural in his world. “Do you gamble a lot?” I need to know what secrets lie beneath my name on his chest.

  He laughs. “Gamble? No. Win? Yes, a lot.” Once the sail’s up, he sits, pulling me onto his lap. “I’ve always had a knack for it. Poker, I mean. Just know how to read people. I got into a card game, real high stakes, back at school. Some rich kid from Nantucket wanted nothing more than to lose his sailboat to me…and I was happy to take it. Does that answer your questions?”

  I nod and turn to face him. “Will you teach me how to play?”

  He smirks. “Why? What do you have that you’re dying to lose to me, Blue?”

  Here goes. “My virginity.” And my cheeks go red.

  “Well,” he says with a whistle, “that’s way better than a crappy boat.”

  We sail for a while, just watching the waves, the water, the dogs. It’s peaceful out here. No one to perform for. I can just be myself. No Favors coming in…well, just a few dogs that want pets from me now and then. Frankie’s steering around me. He’s got me between the wheel and himself. I haven’t said anything since the virginity comment and cringe when I think of my mouth, which just loves to run off on its own, leaving my brain behind.

  “Frankie.” I have to clear my throat. He leans his head down to me so he can hear what I have to say. “What do you see in me?” I continue staring at a buoy in the distance so I don’t have to see his face when he answers.

  He’s not having it. I feel myself turning in his arms and try with all my might to keep staring off into the distance, anything to avoid his eyes. But my plan is kyboshed when he takes my chin in his hand and pulls my face up to look directly into his.

  “My future,” he says, before leaning in to kiss me.

  I sit on the spot he’s designated, in the shade of the sail, as he drops anchor, his words running through my mind. The dogs know what’s coming next. They’re all antsy, running around the deck, looking over the side at the clear waters below.

  His voice snaps me out of my head. “Hey, Blue? Stop thinking so much and throw a couple balls over the side for the dogs, would ya?” I look up, pulled from my thoughts, and see Frankie balancing on the brass rail, shirtless and ready to get wet. He gives me two thumbs up and a grin before back-flipping over the side of the boat!

  The dogs are nudging a basket of tennis balls at my feet. I was so lost in my head; I didn’t even notice Frankie drop them in front of me. I look at the dogs, and five sets of eager eyes are staring back. They don’t care that I’m in the middle of a personal tug of war, they just want to play.

  “You want these?” I ask and am answered by wagging tails and a few good-natured barks. I hear Frankie whistle from the water below, take the basket to the edge, and look down at him. “Where should I throw them?” I ask with a giggle.

  “Wherever your heart desires,” he yells back, and I aim right for him.

  “Throw Bert over!”

  “No!” I laugh, looking down at the little life jacket, the tuft of black hair sticking straight up, gelled by Frankie, and his flat line grimace. “You’re right! He does look like Bert!”

  I toss him in, but carefully, reaching over the side as far as I can before dropping the little Chihuahua. He pops right up, dogpaddling around.

  I laugh as all the dogs jump through the open railing, landing splash after splash on Frankie. The only one left on the deck with me is Leia, his blind poodle. “Aww, Leia, you don’t wanna swim?” I ask, kneeling down to her height. She wags her little pompom of a tail at the sound of my voice. “Do you need some help?” I ask, knowing the answer. She doesn’t feel comfortable leaping without being able to see where she’s going to land. I know the feeling.

  I pull the life vest and sundress over my head, feeling a little nervous about wearing Hari’s bikini in the light of day. I grab Leia and, using her as a belly shield, I make my way, one-handed, down the ladder on the side of the boat. Huge arms encircle us, helping me into the water. Frankie slides one hand under Leia, whispering encouraging words, and once he’s got her in the water, she’s off. Dogpaddling around us.

  “She trusts you.” I say, staring at the dogs circling us.

  “She’s a great judge of character. You should, too.” He kisses my cheek before letting me go, treading water right in front of me. “I’ll go slow,” he says, and I know he’s talking about my virginity issue.

  I tread across from him, the water cooling me down. “Do you have a thing for fat girls?”

  “No, I have a thing for you,” he answers right back without even thinking ab
out it.

  “What are you hiding? You’re too perfect.” I twirl in a circle in front of him.

  “Why do you think I have to be nutty to be crazy over you?” He stops my twirl and pulls me into his arms, treading for both of us.

  I look down. “We just met.”

  He whispers in my ear. “We’ll get closer.”

  I can’t help myself, friggin’ Brad and his comments. “Are you gay?”

  He laughs, “Not even a little.”

  The dogs lie around on towels as we eat grilled fish with ceviche for lunch. As Frankie pours wine into my glass, he bends to look into my eyes. “I want you, Blue. I want to date you, give us a fair chance.”

  I nod, resigned to the fact that once this boat trip’s over, I’m going to have two men in my life.

  Frankie looks thoughtful.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” I say with a smile. He smiles, but I can tell he’s holding back. “Blue, can I ask you something?”

  Why not? I figure, and nod.

  He takes in a deep breath. “How do you know you’re allergic to roofies? Why don’t you have any personal items in your house? It’s like a beautiful prison in there. What’s that about? Did someone hurt you?”

  I don’t want to speak ill of Javi, but there’s no way around it. I’m just not ready yet, and I tell him so.

  He’ll want more eventually, but he’s content to wait.

  We sail and lounge.

  It’s Saturday. I’m having a great weekend.

  We’re in and out of the water all day. In between, I read on my Kindle—nothing heavy—and throw the tennis balls for the dogs. Frankie plays his guitar, an acoustic one, writing music, long legs dangling over the side.

  He comes by, plopping a huge straw hat on my hat. “You’re burning,” he says and dives over the side. I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He pats the side of the boat, calling Leia to him. She walks to the sound of his voice, her own life jacket snug in place. When she’s within reach, he picks her up gently, talking in soothing tones, and slides back into the water.