by Vivian Cove
“You okay, girl?”
“Are you pretending to worry about me after jumping on my back like it’s the fucking rise of The Planet of the Apes and making me do a face plant?”
“I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to stop you from making the biggest mistake in your life.”
I squint up at my destination. The blow-up sex doll knocks against the flag pole as the slip of fabric she’s in flaps around in the wind like a flag.
“It’s not a mistake, Candy. It’s fate.” Except since Candy’s still on me and I’m running out of juice it sounds more like I’m saying, I-uh-m-caaa-FATE!
Candy gets off, shaking her head. “Why do you want to bring that shit into your life? And why do you want to bring it into your life this bad?”
“She and Damien deserve each other,” I explain, standing. “It’s for his Restless D Syndrome.”
Candy gags. “Oh God, please don’t tell me Restless D Syndrome is what I think it is.”
I grin. “It’s Restless Dick Syndrome.”
She groans. “Annie, saying stupid shit out loud does not make it less stupid.”
“It’s not stupid. It describes him and his condition perfectly.”
“His condition is that he’s horny and he wants you. He’s into a crazy chick, not necrophilia.”
“You don’t get it. His D is out of control.”
“No, it’s you who’s out of control, girl! I don’t even want to know what you’re gonna do with that thing.”
I walk over to the blow up sex doll and squeeze its hand. It sounds like bubble wrap popping. I straighten the blond wig someone had super glued it on. The doll’s plastic, dead eyes stare up at me, her mouth permanently stuck in this weird O shape. I tried not to think about what that mouth had been used for.
I untie her from the pole. “Do you really not want to know what I’m gonna do with it?”
Candy watches me manhandle the doll. “I’m a little curious, but I’m also afraid.”
“Good. I want to traumatize him.”
“Well, if he ends up being even half as traumatized as I am right now, then it will be mission accomplished, or whatever.” She glances around Star Power, queasy. “I’m gonna go back to the club and get your car.”
Candy’s car is parked not even thirty feet from us. “What’s wrong with your car?”
She looks at me like I just slapped her. “I’m not letting you get that shit near my car!”
I roll my eyes. Alright, Drama Queen. “Fine, we’ll just call a taxi.”
“Hell no. You can’t put something like that in a vehicle that other people are gonna ride in. It just isn’t right!”
“Candy, it’s going to take you at least thirty minutes to get your car. Do you really want me to stand out here with this thing for that long?”
Candy ponders this. “You know, that might actually be a good idea. It’s like character building or some shit.”
“Me, standing with a blow up sex doll in front of children?”
Candy glances at the boy in the Spiderman suit. He’s still ripping heads off dolls. “I see your point, but you holding it is still better than it hanging up there flapping in the wind. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll decapitate it, too.” She flashes a grin. “Alright girl. See you soon.”
“I can’t believe you’re leaving me!”
“Oh, just for a little bit…though if you want to put that thing back we can call a cab and leave together.”
I point at her purple Honda. “Your car is right there. Why would we call a cab?”
“I thought I explained this to you. I don’t want you touching my stuff until you’ve been hosed down.”
“Is this thing really that dirty?” I pout.
“YES!”
I don’t know why I was expecting a nicer answer than that. “Fine. Whatever. Hurry up. We’ll nasty up my car.”
“Love you, girl. Be back soon.”
I don’t go to buy it until Candy’s purple Honda is out of sight.
Star Power herself is working the register today. It’s seated on top of a children’s easy bake oven. Star Power lounges behind it in a lawn chair, decked out in a purple witch Halloween hat with gigantic gold stars.
I hold up the blow up doll and ask her where she got the damn thing.
She rubs the quartz crystal pendant around her neck, frowning. “Don’t remember, hon. But I think I sold it to Old Man Willie ten years ago. He brought it back a month later, though.”
I have no clue who Old Man Willie is, thank God. “Cool.”
She grins. “$5.”
I talk her down to $3 (which isn’t hard—Star Power loves a “good deal,” even if she isn’t the one on the receiving end), and then do a little walk of shame down her lawn. There’s no cool way to carry around a sex doll, especially when you’re in front of a bunch of elderly female bargain hunters. As I pass at least four of them make a cross by touching their forehead, chest, and either shoulder.
Candy’s not back yet, of course. I get tired of holding up the sex doll and just hold her hand. Of course, since she can’t stand up on her own, this means she’s now hanging from my hand. Her face knocks against my knees as the lower half of her body rolls around in the dirt.
I’m beginning to see how dumb of an idea this is when a car pulls up.
The black Mercedes has tinted windows. It’s a lot nicer than most of the cars in the area and I’ve never seen it before. A part of me knows I shouldn’t stick around—that something’s not right here—but I can’t. It’s like my own secret sex fantasy just rolled up to the block.
I squeeze the sex doll’s hand until I hear her signature pops. I can almost feel the soft leather seats beneath my palms and legs. I want to take a ride in that thing with…
I don’t finish that thought because he steps out.
I see a flash of the skulls on his cut as he shuts the door. He turns, black shirt stretched over his broad chest, and slowly removes his shades.
Run! A part of me yells. I don’t know the specifics, but I do know that the Peace Treaty is fragile. It wouldn’t look good if we were seen together, right?
Dark eyes pour into mine. I can’t think of anything but him—I can’t even dream of wanting anything but him—of desiring anything more than him walking towards me.
And that’s exactly what he does.
Chapter 8
His lips curl into a smile. I can’t see his eyes behind his shades. I don’t know why, but I wish I could see them.
“Hey Annie.”
He sounds so casual, like he’s an old friend and not someone I just met last night. A someone who licked me everywhere.
I gulp and tuck a stray strand of black hair behind my ear. “Um, hi.”
He nods to my left. “So, you gonna introduce me to your friend?”
My friend? I frown, squeezing the plastic thing in my hand until it starts to pop, and look to my left…
Right at the blow-up sex doll.
I give a little shriek and throw it. The wind picks it up. For a second it’s airborne, then it falls back to earth, twitching and convulsing.
“Looking to spice things up with your man?” His tone is light, but there’s a slight edge to his voice.
Oh fuck! I could not let him think I was into shit like this! “Oh, that isn’t for me, it’s for Damien. But not for him to fuck. I mean, not for him to use. I mean…fuck.” This is so not going well! “If I wanted to get him a sex doll, I’d totally splurge for a new one.”
I cringe as the fact that I’d just used the word “splurge” sinks in.
Damnit! That’s totally not what I wanted to say! “Damien is an asshole,” I begin.
“Yeah. Already figured that out last night, and let’s just say he didn’t change my mind this morning.”
I crouch and pick up the sex doll, muttering, “Yeah, doesn’t help that he has a restless D.”
“What?”
I glance up at him and almost groan. The last thing I wa
nt to do is talk about Damien’s nocturnal activities with this guy. “Oh, I was just saying it doesn’t help that I’m…” what the fuck rhymes with D? Ski? Me? Tree? “I’m super hungree!” I chirp.
He doesn’t address the fact that I sound like a baby bird muppet asking its mama bird for food for the first time. “You a vegetarian, Annie?”
What does that have to do with anything? “No.”
“Good. I’m taking a break from meetin’ with your dad.”
My dad.
I’m talking about my dad in front of a guy who had his face between my legs less than 24 hours ago. And I’m realizing that he was talking to my dad all morning. Yes, the two of them were in the same room. Talking.
He runs his hand through his hair. “Was thinkin’ of getting’ somethin’ to eat. I’ll buy you somethin’ too.” He looks at the burger joint across the street. “Heard the place was good.”
Yeah, he heard the place was good from my dad no doubt! Oh god, my face is redder than an uncooked burger patty. “I really don’t want to bother you.”
“You’d never bother me, Annie.” He motions at the sex doll I’m holding. “But if you’re busy, I understand.”
“No, no. I’m not busy…with her.” I glance down at the doll. Was it correct to refer to it as her? And why am I even wondering about stupid bullshit like the PC name to call sex dolls? “I’m just here with my friend,” I explain.
He takes off his sunglasses. His piercing, beautiful eyes narrow. “Your friend?”
“Yeah, my best friend in the whole world. She’s not here right now. She left, but she’ll be back.”
He gives me a really pitying expression.
“And I’m not talking about the sex doll. This is a real girl. I mean, it’s not like a drive around the countryside and go shopping with one of Damien’s used sex dolls…that would just be really sad.” I laugh hysterically to emphasize the sadness.
He does not laugh with me. He emphasizes the sadness in a different way—by looking at me like I am a baby bird who has been abandoned by its mother.
Oh fuck. Does he think that I drive around with the sex doll for a friend? That I’m really that lonely?
My stomach growls. I shut my eyes. “Okay, let’s just go get a burger.”
He grins. “You won’t regret it.”
The word regret sends my mind to a dark, beautiful place. My heart beats faster. I shouldn’t be having this kind of reaction to this kind of man. I mean, Damien was one thing, but he was at least part of the club. This wasn’t my own personal enemy, this was everyone’s enemy.
Well, everyone else’s enemy. He sure as shit wasn’t my enemy. He was nice to me.
It’s busy inside. Shelly, who runs the place with her husband, Mike, sits us at a picnic table on the gravel out front. “A menu for each of you, not that she needs one,” Shelly smiles, affectionately patting my head like I’m a dog. The fact that I’m carrying a sex doll doesn’t even make her bat an eye, which I actually find really disturbing.
“You come here a lot?” he asks when she goes back inside the restaurant.
“Yeah.” And when I’m here, I eat a lot, too. I make a note to eat way less today. Sexy man has already seen me in my shame suit (old sweatpants + older t-shirt + splotchy cry face), freaking out about doorknobs in front of a biker mob, and staring off into la-la land while holding hands with a sex doll. He really didn’t need to see me stuff my face.
Mike’s Burgers has one of those menus that pictures the food you can order. I set down the menu and longingly caress the Strawberry Sundae with my pointer finger. God damn, I lost my mind over those things. They had strawberry sprinkles and strawberry syrups and so many damn yummy strawberry bits. I made all sorts of freaky happy noises when I ate one.
Shelly comes back. She takes his order first: a BBQ bacon cheeseburger. Then, she asks me, “So, Mike’s special double decker cheeseburger—“
“Um…” I try to interject.
“Extra jalapeno, extra bacon, extra avocado, extra tomatoes—”
Sexy man raises his eyebrows.
“Yeah, it’s, um…actually Shelly…”
“Add pickles, chipotle mayo, hold the ketchup.”
I take a deep breath. “So, Shelly…”
“Two orders of onion rings,” she continues, “A root beer float, and a strawberry sundae with an extra strawberry on top!”
Sexy man is looking at me like he’s seeing me for the first time.
“I don’t actually eat that when I come here,” I tell him.
“Oh, right,” Shelly says. “Two strawberry sundaes.”
Fuck! “Actually, I’m trying something different today. I’ll have a salad with…salad stuff on it.” I hand the menu back to her.
Shelly looks at me like I just told her I’m an alien here to probe her butt.
Sexy Man shakes his head. “I’d like to order some onion rings,” he tells Shelly. “And a strawberry sundae.”
Shelly returns to the restaurant in a daze, leaving Sexy Man alone to face my wrath.
“Did you order that sundae because you think I’ll eat it? Because I’ll tell you right now, there’s no way in hell I’m gonna eat that thing!” And I really don’t want to make my crazy strawberry-heaven-lovin’ sounds!
“You think I’m the kind of asshole who’s gonna tell a girl what to eat and what not to eat?” Sexy Man asks.
I frown.
“The sundae’s not for you, it’s for your friend,” he continues dismissively.
“Friend?” Candy wasn’t gonna be here for a long time.
“Yeah.” He looks over at the sex doll seated next to me.
I look at the sex doll. Then at him. Then back at the sex doll. Then back at him. “Did you just buy a strawberry sundae for a sex doll?”
“Yeah. Figured she deserved one.”
What??? “She deserves a sundae?”
He nods. “Bet she’s never had one before.”
My heart pinches. It’s stupid, and I know it shouldn’t. I mean, it’s a blow-up sex doll with no feelings or taste buds. But I think of all the nasty shit she’s had stuffed in that creepy O mouth and I suddenly feel like she does deserve to know the amazing that is a strawberry sundae from Mike’s.
Shelly comes back with our food stacked on a red tray. “Here’s your meal,” she tells Sexy Man. “And here’s your salad with salad stuff,” she tells me.
I shiver as the scent of burger and onion rings fills the air. Turns out salad stuff doesn’t really have much of a smell.
Sexy Man picks up an onion ring.
“That looks good,” I tell him.
“They’re really good.” He smiles. “Do you want one?”
“Oh, I shouldn’t…” My stomach doesn’t rumble, it howls like a wolf at the moon.
Sexy Man raises his eyebrows again.
Alright, who the fuck was I kidding? “I’d love some.” And by “some,” I actually meant I’d love them all. I grab the basket and dig in.
Sexy Man cuts his burger. “And I’ll give you half of this for half of your salad stuff,” he tells me.
I don’t even pretend like I don’t think this is a good idea. The second he’s done cutting, I’m ready. I try to go slow, but it’s just too good, so I inhale it, oohing and ahhing and enjoying one of life’s greatest pleasures.
When I’m done, I open my eyes. Sexy Man is shaking his head. “You can have the other half too if you want.”
“REALLY!?!?”
He laughs. “Remind me never to share with you again.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s alright. I’ll just buy two of everything instead. You’re worth it.”
He winks and attacks the salad, putting up a noble fight, but Mike’s isn’t known for their salads and it sure as shit isn’t a nice burger. Feeling charitable, I rip off a piece of the burger and hand it to him.
“Oh wow, is that for me?”
I frown. “Don’t look so surprised.”
He takes it from me, grinning. “Guess I’m not…but I think I’m starting to see why your MC nicknamed you The Annie-mal.”
“THEY DID WHAT???”
He chuckles. “Guessin’ they didn’t tell you.”
“Of course they didn’t! I woulda hulked out!” An image of a pink wilderbeast Annie Princess ripping through Damien with sparkle claws invades my mind.
He smiles. “Which would have done a lot to improve your Annie-mal image.”
I cringe. “Fuck.” Maybe I was an Annie-mal. All I seemed to respond to was food. And violence.
And sex.
I push my knees together. Where did that thought come from? I look across the table and remember. Oh yeah, because I’m sitting right across the table from sex incarnate.
His eyes narrow, and for a second, I have a horrible feeling that he can read my thoughts. There is an awareness between us. Something I can’t put my finger on. I feel both at ease and, at the same time, completely unnerved. He comforts me, but he shouldn’t. On the surface, he’s all strong muscles, dark eyes that see too much, and a kindness that seems undeserved.
Beneath that exterior, I sense something I had no name for brewing. It draws me closer despite the danger. I’m tempted by how reckless I could be—how reckless we both could be.
“I guess it’s unsurprising,” I whisper. “I mean, there’s so much they don’t tell me. Annie-mal is kind of small compared to all the other shit.”
He chews his lip, like he’s unsure of what to say. “Your dad’s probably just tryin’ to protect you. The world isn’t the same as it was a few years ago.”
“What do you mean?”
He leans back. “How much do you know about your club’s business?”
“Not a lot.”
He stays silent.
Fine, I’ll be honest. “Basically nothing.”
“Well, what your dad’s dealin’ with is pretty much what every small town along the highway is dealin’ with. Towns without local gangs are becomin’ battle zones, and towns with established gangs are asked to choose sides.”
Wait, battle zones? “What do you mean?!?”
“Here, give me your hand. I wanna show you somethin’.”
I comply without thinking.
