by Geonn Cannon
Elaine shook her head. "Don't worry about it, baby."
"I did worry about it. All day." She jerked her chin over her shoulder. "And all the way home."
Elaine looked at Lance's discarded jacket. Five roses were lying across it, sticking out of the outside pocket. Elaine smiled. "Hm. Five roses. Say, aren't there five newsstands between here and your precinct?"
"Mm, six," Lance said as she nuzzled Elaine's neck. "One was closed."
"And you couldn't buy two at the next one?"
Lance lifted Elaine and sat her on the edge of the sink. Elaine spread her legs and drew Lance in. Lance shook her head and began to undo the buttons of her blouse. She kissed the smooth skin of Elaine's upper chest. "I really feel like shit about today."
"Don't, honey. It was..." Elaine sighed and shook her head. "Next year, it's going to be just you, me, and Faye."
"Oooh, so close to perfect." She untucked Elaine's blouse and finished with the buttons. Elaine shrugged it off and Lance bent down to kiss her breasts through her bra. "What happened?"
"Remember when we said, Ôlet's invite the neighbors'...?"
"I remember you saying it," Lance said. Elaine's nipples were hard and Lance was having trouble focusing on the conversation. She ran her hands along the outside of Elaine's thighs. "Who did you invite?"
"The loud sex people. I didn't realize until he splattered some gravy on her dress and she screamed his name..."
"'Oh! Oh, Patrick!'" Lance mocked. She kissed the swell of Elaine's breast.
"Then there was the gallery owner and his fucking pre-teen trophy girlfriend."
Lance straightened and slid her fingers under the lacy edge of Elaine's bra. "Okay, so...next year, it's you and me and a deceased turkey to be named later?"
Elaine gave her The Look. "Faye wants to get to know you."
"She will. Just...maybe on a less stressful day than Thanksgiving."
Elaine nodded. "Okay. Christmas, then?" Lance reached around to unhook Elaine's bra. Elaine brought her arms together and let Lance slide the bra off. "I think you're trying to distract me."
"Nope," Lance said. She lowered her head and captured Elaine's nipple in her mouth.
Elaine sighed and curled her fingers in Lance's thick, dark hair. "Or...you don't have to be friends with my sister. I can disown my sister." She sighed again and leaned back, resting her head against the cabinet door. "Keep doing that."
Lance moved to the other nipple and used her tongue to tease it awake. She closed her lips around it as she moved her hand up to pinch the first nipple. Elaine arched her back and tightened her legs around Lance's waist. "Mm. Claire..."
"Oh, Patrick," Lance mocked.
Elaine giggled and slapped Lance's arm. "Shh, they'll hear."
Keeping her hand on Elaine's breast, Lance straightened and kissed her hard. She moved her other hand down Elaine's side and fumbled with the button at the waistband of her trousers. It came free and Lance slid her hand inside.
Elaine whimpered. "Oh, Claire. I've missed you so much, baby."
"I can see that."
"Are you staying all night? No early shift, no graveyard..."
"I'm yours." She kissed Elaine's cheek. "I love you, Elaine."
Elaine murmured Lance's name and shifted to press her forehead against Lance's. She cupped the back of Lance's head with her hand and opened her eyes. Lance had an uncanny ability to keep her eyes open during sex. It had been disconcerting at first, but Elaine had gotten used to it. It was thrilling to be on the verge of coming and then look up to see someone staring at you with such devotion.
Lance curled her index finger and pinky back against her palm, using the middle two fingers to stroke Elaine's labia. Elaine buried her face against Lance's shoulder and said, "I love you, too." She closed her teeth on Lance's shirt and whispered a shriek, her body tensing as Lance pushed her fingers inside.
Lance pulled back and looked at her face. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her lips pressed tightly together, and a vein was throbbing on her forehead. She lifted her hips off the counter to meet Lance's fingers, and then she suddenly went limp.
"Claire..."
Lance kissed Elaine's face, watching as her blush faded. They kissed softly and Lance helped Elaine off the counter. She let Elaine sag against her and pulled up her pants, buttoning them before she playfully slapped Elaine on the bottom. "I'll finish the dishes."
"You're tired," Elaine said, her voice dreamy and her eyes still half-lidded. She wrapped her arms around Lance, reaching up to rub her shoulder blades. She lowered her voice to a whisper and spoke against Lance's throat. "Plus, you didn't come yet."
Lance kissed the top of Elaine's head. "Yes, I did."
"Oh?"
Lance smiled. "I'll show you the proof later. Okay, if you don't trust me to do the dishes by myself, how about a compromise. You wash and I'll dry."
Elaine nodded. "That I can deal with. And when we're done, we can go to bed and you can prove to me you came." She slid her hand down the front of Lance's shirt and stopped before reaching her breast.
She kissed Elaine between the eyebrows. Even if she had been working, she had spent every second of her holiday giving thanks for the woman currently in her arms. A few more hours of gratitude wouldn't hurt.
#
Someone was stroking her hair, their weight pressing down on the mattress next to her. Lance reached out and touched the soft cotton of a towel and realized where she was. She sat up quickly, knocking Gwen's hand away from her head. "What are you doing?" she said too suddenly. She was embarrassed. It was the second time in one day she had mistaken Gwen for Elaine. It was dangerous, not to mention painful, coming back to reality every time.
"I'm sorry," Gwen said. "You were asleep and you were crying."
Lance angrily brushed at her face. She had spent too much of the past couple of days crying. She rolled to the side and got off of the bed on the side away from Gwen. "I'm going to take a shower."
"Okay," Gwen said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"
"It's all right." Lance grabbed some clothes off the radiator and carried them into the bathroom. She slammed the door and leaned against the sink, feeling like she was finally letting out a breath she had been holding for days, ever since she had met Gwen, in fact. She ran the faucet and held her hands under the flow, then slapped herself hard in the face.
She had to dislodge Elaine from her mind, from her thoughts. Memories weren't helping her. The evil sister, Faye Mallory, was probably hot on her trail that very moment. And what was she doing? Planning? Plotting a way to get out of this mess? No, she was stewing in motel rooms, crying over memories, spending time lusting after the woman she had rescued from a beating.
Lance shed the robe and her underwear and got into the tub. She twisted the knob and the scorching hot water hit her mid-chest. It was like a thousand needles burning into her flesh, but it was just what she needed to wake up. She bowed her head and rested her hands on the wall in front of her, letting the water course over her head and down her back, over her ass and down her legs to the drain. She prayed it would take her memories of Elaine as well. Just for the moment.
#
Garth and Kay sat in their motel room, waiting for word from Hadley. Kay had found a deck of playing cards in the drawer and was currently playing solitaire. Garth was surfing the TV channels and stopping occasionally when he found weather reports. The thunderstorms were expected to taper off during the afternoon, but there was still a slight threat of tornadoes on the south side of the city. Wonderful. On the bright side, though, the bad weather meant Lance and Gwen probably couldn't take off if they did decide to fly out.
Kay kept checking his watch. He hated sitting still, hated not knowing where his enemy was. He had spent years as a half-assed cop, but he hadn't lasted very long behind the badge. Too many laws that he was expected to follow. So he had tried his hand at private investigations. He was dead broke, stinking drunk, and considering eating his gun when Roy Mo
rse had found him. Drunk or not, Roy had seen Kay's worth as an enforcer. So he kept Kay funded and let him drink whatever he wanted as long as he kept his mouth shut about where he got the cash. And if someone needed to be shut up, Kay went and shut them up. It was his honor to serve Roy.
But now, Roy was dead. And all he could do was sit in a goddamn motel room and wait for the weather to clear. Worse than that, he was stone-ass sober. He threw the cards down and watched them scatter across the desk. "Fucking useless."
"Yeah, I never got that Ôaces can be one or eleven' deal, either."
"You're hilarious, you asshole," Kay said. "Roy's dead, and what are we doing? Chasing our asses. Sitting up here in Oklahoma, waiting for Hadley to fly in and tell us what to do. You seen that weather report lately? You know how likely it is they'll get a flight up here?"
Garth shrugged. "I don't know. They say it's clearing up."
"Roy is dead and we're not doing a damn thing."
"Sure we are," Garth said, his eyes still locked on the fuzzy picture on the TV. "We're—"
"We don't even know if they're in Oklahoma!" Kay said. "We just came here because those fucking cops came up here. What if they went to New Mexico? Or Colorado?"
"We'll find them," Garth said. "And when we do, we'll make sure Gwen keeps her mouth shut and that bitch Lance pays for what she did to Roy. You need to calm the fuck down."
Kay grabbed the front of Garth's shirt and hauled him to his feet. He snapped his head forward and smacked it into Garth's face, releasing Garth's shirt as soon as he made contact. The man stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet before he hit the edge of the bed. He grabbed his nose as he wailed and fell to the floor. Kay stepped over him and aimed a finger in his face. "Don't tell me what to do, you stupid son of a bitch," Kay said calmly. "Don't ever fucking do that." He grabbed his coat and pulled it on. "I'm going out."
"Where?" Garth said, pinching the bridge of his nose to help slow the bleeding.
"I said out," Kay said. "The fuck you care?" He slammed the door as he left.
#
Someone down the hall slammed their motel room door just as Lance stepped out of the shower. She assumed it was either the man or the woman who had been arguing earlier. Lance dried off and dressed in her damp clothes, then combed her hair back out of her face and left it to dry naturally. She left the bathroom and found Gwen lying on her bed, curled under the blankets.
Lance walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Hey," she said, "are you awake?"
"Yes." Gwen brushed her hair out of her face and looked up at Lance.
"I'm sorry," Lance said. "I shouldn't have snapped at you. It's been a long time since anyone treated me so...like that." She could almost see Gwen debating whether to ask the question.
"Since Elaine?"
"Yeah," Lance said softly. "Since Elaine."
"I wasn't trying to take her place. I'm sorry."
Lance closed her eyes and looked away. She hated admitting that she might be attracted to Gwen. It had been almost a year since Elaine's death, but she still felt like anything she did would be a betrayal of what they had. In her mind, even kissing Gwen would be the same as cheating on Elaine.
Gwen sat up and wrapped her arms around Lance's waist, hugging her from behind. She rested her head on Lance's back. "It's okay."
Lance reached down and gently removed Gwen's hands from around her. She stood up slowly, so Gwen wouldn't fall forward, and turned to face her. "No, it's not. I'm sorry, Gwen. I shouldn't...we shouldn't do this. We can't do this. You're just reacting to the stress of the situation."
"I'm not," Gwen said. "I've been attracted to you since you walked into the bar. I'm attracted to most of the women I meet, damn it. But you're the first who...I don't know, who I'm not scared of, I guess."
"You should be," Lance said. She didn't want to admit how nice it felt to be held, or how great it was just to have another body close enough to share warmth in a cold room. "You should be fucking terrified." She went to the radiator and picked up her jacket. It was still wet, but at least it was warm. She pulled it on and flipped her hair out over the collar. "I'm going to go get us something for lunch." Pulling Boris' gun from the bag, she held it by the barrel as she offered it to Gwen. "Here. Keep this. Just in case."
Gwen hesitantly took the gun, looked at it warily, and set it on the nightstand. She gathered the blankets to her chest and looked down at her hands. "You don't find me attractive."
Lance sighed and her shoulders sagged. "No, I do. You're very attractive, Gwendolyn."
Gwen smiled. "Is this going to be the Ôit's not you, it's me' speech?"
Lance's head was bowed, her face shadowed by the curtain of her hair. "No. It's not you; it's Elaine." Gwen looked away. "What do you feel like for lunch?"
"Anything. I don't care." Her voice was hurt, the voice of a child who was pouting.
"Gwen—"
"Just go, please," Gwen said. She lay back down and pulled the blankets up to her shoulders.
Lance considered staying to talk it out, to soothe any of Gwen's jangled nerves, but she knew that it was best to just turn around and walk out. Acting like a jerk would help Gwen get over whatever puppy love, Stockholm syndrome feelings she might think she was having. Lance checked to make sure she had her keys and the money, and left the motel room.
The rain had died down to a steady drizzle and the sun was attempting to peek out from behind the clouds. She could still hear thunder in the distance, but the parking lot was dappled with the bright August sunshine that managed to find breaks in the cloud cover. It was as if a spotlight had been turned on and Oklahoma City was center stage. The world was a watercolor of purples and grays and yellows. The parking lot smelled of ozone.
A man was coming toward her and she moved to step out of his way. "'Scuse me," she muttered, her mind still on Gwen.
"No problem," he said. "Hey..."
Lance looked up and found herself staring into the shocked face of Kevin Keating.
Chapter Eleven
They reacted almost simultaneously. Keating's eyes went wide and he took a step back. "Gar—!"
Lance sliced with her left hand and caught him across the Adam's apple. The end of the word was cut off as Keating fell back, groping at his injured throat. He choked and banged the wall with his hip before lunging toward her. Lance slapped her hands to the sides of his bald head and shoved his head down, meeting his face halfway with her knee. His nose cracked and he coughed blood as he went to one knee. "Bitch!" he rasped.
She was about to turn and run back to her room when Garth Pope stepped out of a room three doors down. He saw her, saw Keating cupping his face, and ducked back into the room. Lance knew if she let him go, he would return with a gun. She punched Keating in the stomach, grabbed the back of his shirt, and spun him in a circle. She released him when he was facing the wall and the centrifugal force sent him flying into the stucco. The wall cracked and he cried out, falling to the asphalt with blood running down his face.
Having dealt with Keating for the moment, Lance turned and ran to the room where Garth had appeared. She hit the door just as he was on his way back out. They collided and Garth's gun went flying as she pushed him into the room. Garth managed to punch her twice in the face before she shoved him backward. He grabbed her forearm as he went down, pulling her with him. They fell, bounced off the nearest mattress, and rolled into the space between the two beds. Lance was on top, her hand on the back of Garth's neck. She laid her other arm across his throat and put her weight on it, trying to knock him out. Garth's hands came up and scratched at her face, but his nails were trimmed and slid uselessly across her cheeks. And then the world turned orange and she couldn't breathe.
Keating pressed against her from behind, growling in her ear as he pulled the sheet tight over her face. He had bunched up the bottom edge of the sheet where it pressed against her throat and was using both hands to cut off her oxygen. She assumed that his aim was to blind her as well, b
ut the sheet was thin enough for her to see vague shapes. She could see Garth's wide, dark eyes, for instance. She released Garth's throat and put her hands on his cheeks, feeling for his eye sockets. She pressed her thumbs against his eyelids, which he closed just before she made contact, and he screamed as she dug in deep.
She was bent forward at an awkward angle, her ass pressing into Keating's gut. She leaned forward, forcing him to follow her, and then slammed her head backward before he had a chance to react. She caught him on the chin and she heard his teeth snap shut like a bear trap. He howled and she knew it had taken a piece of his tongue with it.
Lance released Garth's eyes and put one hand on his chest to push herself up. She threw her weight back, forcing Keating to go with her, and ran backward until they hit the wall. She took a step forward, bent her knees, and then threw herself back again. Keating took the brunt of the impact and his grip loosened slightly. It was enough. Lance pushed the sheet away from her windpipe and ducked down to get out of his makeshift noose.
Once she was free, she spun and kneed him in the groin. He doubled over, but reached out with both hands and grabbed her throat. He was bound and determined to choke her to death. Blood was pouring out of his mouth, evidence that her blow had caused him some damage. Lance got her hand around his chin and slammed his head into the wall. His eyes swam and she did it again, until he started to go limp and the drywall behind him was little more than dust. Finally his eyes rolled back and his grip loosened. Lance let him crumple to the floor and spun to face Garth. He was gone.
Lance shot a look at the carpet near the door and saw he had retrieved his gun. Her heart stopped as she fled from the room and raced down the walkway, hearing Gwen scream just as she burst through the door of their room. Garth was standing next to the bed, trying to pull Gwen off the floor. Lance slammed into him from behind and they both fell on top of the bed. Lance hooked her hands under Garth's armpits and rolled the two of them off of Gwen to the other side of the mattress.
