Quills and Daggers - A Second Chance at Love Romance: The Collective - Season 1, Episode 5

by Chris Genovese

  Finally, she turned to face me and I caught a sparkle in her brown eyes. She was cute, which is a special trait for a woman to have. Being hot is one thing, and Valerie was definitely hot, but she had an adorable face, the kind you could look at a million times and not get tired of. Yet, I still found myself thinking about Nikki, like merely finding Valerie attractive was a violation of Nikki’s trust.

  Why are you hung up on a girl who has always been untouchable?

  Valerie’s pink lipstick sparkled in one of the overhead lights and I was drawn to the moistness of her mouth. When she spoke, her tongue moved in a way that seemed so inviting, like it was moving on waves of sensuality, welcoming me inside. If Nikki was haunting my thoughts, Valerie was doing a damn good job of kicking her to my mental curb.

  Suddenly it seemed ludicrous that I’d even been thinking about my childhood friend. Nikki had been anything but welcoming to my advances. I’d been hung up on her since I was a kid and she’d never returned the sentiment. We were great friends, but even as attracted to her as I was, we’d never be more than that. It was the sad reality I’d come to realize. She didn’t want me the way I wanted her. Valerie, on the other hand, might.

  “You’re a sweet guy,” Valerie yelled as a rock band started their next set on a small stage at the back of the bar. “That girl I saw you with in your tattoo place, was she your girl?”

  My girl. Such an innocent, cute way of putting it.

  The way she’d worded the question made me think of walking hand in hand through a town fair, trying my best to knock over some old milk bottles so I could win Nikki a big pink teddy bear.

  “No,” I said. “She’s an old friend.”

  “Nice,” she said.

  She stood to go back to work but then stopped, put a hand on my shoulder, and leaned down to whisper in my ear.

  “I hope you keep coming around.”

  It wasn’t the request for a date like I’d hoped. It wasn’t a suggestion that we should go to my place later and fuck like the some of the other waitresses in the place had thrown my way. This was nothing more than a pleasant way of saying she might want to get to know me better. I hoped for the same thing.

  More than that, I hoped one of the bikers that frequented Red’s wouldn’t snatch her away before I had the chance to talk to her a little more. She’d already proven she liked thugs. After a few beers, I said goodbye to Red and made my way out of the bar. I’d hoped to say goodbye to Valerie but I didn’t see her. I was halfway through the parking lot and making my way toward my apartment when I heard her voice call out from behind me.

  “You’re just gonna leave like that? Without saying goodbye?”

  I turned to see her walking my way with her purse slung over one shoulder and her shirt over the other. She’d changed into a clean T-shirt that pressed firmly against her body. Her shorts were so tiny the bottoms of the pockets stuck out of the legs. She saw me looking and glanced down at herself.

  “Hoochie shorts,” she said. “I know. I only wear ‘em for the job. They’re kind of like the uniform here.”

  “Like Hooters,” I said.

  “Cooters,” she joked.

  We both laughed. I liked her already. She was playful. I think she said something else to me but I was too focused on the great looking young woman sashaying closer to me in the dark parking lot. By this time, only a few bikes remained. Wednesday nights were dead even by biker terms.

  “Can you?” she said.

  Yep, she’d definitely said something else in the few seconds I was glued to her magnificent thighs.

  “I can,” I said, not sure what I’d just agreed to.

  “Great,” she replied.

  We both stood there quiet for a second.

  “So…” she said, looking around the parking lot. “Are you parked nearby or is one of these bikes yours?”

  I think I agreed to give her a ride. Slight problem. My car is parked at my apartment.

  “You mind going for a walk?” I asked. “My car’s at home. I live nearby so I don’t drive often. It’s usually only the Motor Quill or Red’s for me.”

  “So you’re a tattooing alcoholic,” she said. “How do you get groceries?”

  “You don’t wanna see my fridge,” I admitted.

  “Beer and leftover Chinese,” she said. “Got it.”

  “Well, I mean, I do have a car,” I said. “I just don’t use it all that often. But you know, if I needed to buy like bread, butter…umm…I don’t know…whatever people buy at a grocery store…”

  “Can I trust you?” she interrupted me.

  “More than you can trust a cab driver in this area late at night.”

  We walked out of the parking lot and in the direction of my house. I wanted to hold her hand but I was afraid she’d freak out.

  “Red let you off early?” I asked.

  “Early?”

  She laughed.

  “I started at five. It’s two in the morning and I have to get my daughter up for school in four hours.”

  “Ouch,” I said. “That’s rough.”

  She moved closer to me and it felt as if we were dating. One street lamp washed down over us, giving us a spotlight of our own. She was so close I could practically reach out and put my arms around her waist. I considered it, but I definitely didn’t know her well enough for that. The temptation was strong but the fear that she might slap the shit out of me was stronger.

  “It’s not that bad,” she said. “Once she’s on the bus, I go back to bed.”

  “So who watches her while you’re working?”

  “My roommate. She’s a designer. She goes to school during the day and does some freelance stuff online at night. Her parents are basically paying her way. Must be nice. You know, it’s funny how badly we want to move out of our parents’ house and be on our own, but then when we’re older, I think we crave companionship, whether it’s from a boyfriend or girlfriend or roommate or even from moving back in with our parents.”

  I knew what she meant. For a long time I wanted to be on my own. Having grown up with only one constant, my older brother, I eventually felt the need to separate and be on my own. I thought he needed that too. It can’t be easy being in your little brother’s shadow. The way we’d bounced around all over the place and eventually settled back in our beloved bay area, we could easily be the modern day Lennie and George from Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men. Kevin’s version of the rabbits to tend was his fascination with putting permanent paint on people’s skin.

  What an awful way to think about it. Kevin wasn’t nearly as incapable or as much of an accidental trouble maker as the character of Lennie.

  Once I got locked up, my attitude changed. I missed him so bad it hurt. When I was released, he was there waiting for me outside the prison gate, and we’d lived together ever since.

  Valerie’s arm brushed mine as we walked side by side and I noticed how tired she looked. I offered to carry her purse but she wouldn’t let me. We talked about a lot of things in the short distance to my house and none of what she had to say made sense of the fact that she’d been a wannabe gangster’s girlfriend. I’d ask her about it at some point but now didn’t seem like the right time. Why ruin a perfectly good moment by asking about her ex?

  When we reached my apartment, I asked if she wanted to come inside and she gave me a sideways glance that spoke volumes. She was accusing me of trying to make my move. I laughed and shrugged my shoulders.

  “Hey, you can’t blame me for trying,” I said. “But really. My keys are upstairs in my apartment. It’s not often I have to use my car. If you want to come up, you can. I’d hate for you to wait out here all by your…”

  My sentence was cut short by the whistle and swoosh of a hollow piece of lead pipe sailing my way. I turned in time to see it but not quickly enough to dodge it. The pain was immense as the heavy metallic object struck me below the eye. It was thrown with so much force that it practically lifted me off my feet. I tumbled backwards into the
poor excuse of a garden that lined both sides of my front door stoop.

  “Payback hurts, don’t it, bitch?”

  I didn’t need to see him to know who it was. His New York accent told me all I needed to know. Through blurry eyes and the coppery tang of blood, I watched Davey and his gang of hoodlums, five of them, come marching across the street. I fumbled for my phone, hoping to have enough time to call Kevin and Chunk or maybe even my badass detective friend, Reid, but another piece of lead pipe hit my phone and shattered the screen. It fell from my hand and landed in the wet soil at my feet.

  “Davey, please,” Valerie said. “Leave him alone.”

  “Didn’t get enough the other night?” I said.

  I knew by that point that I was about to get my ass royally kicked. Nothing I could say or do would get me out of it but at least I could go down like a man. Davey and his goons would fuck me up this time but they wouldn’t have the satisfaction of scaring me.

  “You right,” one of Davey’s buddies, a guy who hadn’t been at the bar the other night, said. “This motherfucka’s got a big mouth. You like to talk shit? You like runnin’ that mouth of yours? I’ma show you what that mouth is for.”

  With a quick, jerk and spin, I whipped out my hand and hit the trash talker with a back fist that smashed his jaw and sent him crashing to the ground. The next guy rushed at me, football tackle style, but I moved out of the way quickly and grabbed his shirt as I helped him keep running forward until his head connected with the building’s brick wall. I turned to find the next guy but he found me first. The fist landed in the same exact spot where the pipe had hit me only moments before.

  I slipped out of consciousness for a second and fell to a knee. That was all the time the gang needed. All of them were on me, even the two I’d injured. Fists and feet rained down on me from all directions. This wasn’t the first time I’d been in this situation. Most gang initiations require some sort of beat down and I’d been in a couple of gangs in my youth. In prison, one time in the yard after a gang leader felt I didn’t do his gang sign tattoo correctly, I was punished the same way. I’ve learned that in this situation, the best position is to cover your head and lift your knees to protect your stomach and ribs the best you can. Other than that, there’s not shit you can do but take it. The second it takes to try to fight back is all the time it takes to find yourself with a cracked cranium or fractured ribs.

  The sound of Davey and his goons yelling and cussing and grunting and shouting mixed with the high pitched wail of Valerie’s cries and pleas to create a cacophony that could only be created by a sinister symphony. It was a soundtrack I’d never want to play over in my mind. At some point, I blacked out.

  ***

  When I woke, I could only see through a slit in my right eye. It was nearly swollen shut and it took me a moment to remember why. As I tried to sit up, the soreness all over my body reminded me. I could only imagine how bad my face looked. A simple finger against my arm sent shockwaves through every muscle and jolts of lighting into my mind.

  “Drink this,” a sweet voice begged.

  I turned my head and realized I was on my bed and Valerie was at my side, feeding me water through a straw. We were alone.

  “How did we get here?” I asked.

  God, I sound awful.

  My voice came out as if my head were squished beneath two pillows and my words were working their way out while my ears remained clogged by the cotton.

  “What?” she asked.

  I repeated myself.

  “Two of your neighbors, a Mr. Anthony and Clyde, saw what had happened and ran out onto the street. Davey and his friends ran when they said the cops were on their way. They helped me get you up here.”

  Anthony and Clyde were a gay couple that lived on the first floor. They were always very nice. I needed to remember to thank them later. Clyde was a registered nurse which accounted for the bandage on my side and on my face.

  “I feel like shit,” I said.

  “You look like shit,” she said.

  “Thank you.”

  She forced a smile but her eyes betrayed her. They were moist and I knew she’d been crying. Probably not because she cared for me as much as for the fear she’d probably felt. Davey was definitely a maniac. I’d have to figure out a way to repay him for that sucker punch. Or sucker lead pipe to my face really.

  “So…you guys getting back together?” I joked.

  “You’re an ass,” she said. “And I’m so sorry. This is all because of me.”

  “No,” I said. “It’s not. It’s me. I knew when he walked into my shop that I didn’t like him. I instigated all this, in a way, but I really don’t tattoo drunk people.”

  “Makes sense,” she said.

  “So, do you think I’ve proven myself?” I asked. “Would you go to prom with me?”

  She slapped my arm gently and it hurt like hell. That’s when I realized I was naked beneath my blanket.

  “Where are my clothes?” I asked.

  “Clyde had to check you out. You’re cut up and bruised pretty bad.”

  “You saw me?”

  “I did,” she said with a slight giggle, covering her face with her hand to hide the sudden reddening of her face.

  “They wanted me to leave,” she said, “But I told them I was your girlfriend and I needed to stay and take care of you. Suddenly, they stripped you naked right in front of me. Clyde said if I was your girlfriend then he was sure I’d seen you naked before.”

  “Fucking hell,” I said. “I get my ass kicked and spied on by a trio of peeping Toms all in one night.”

  “If it makes any difference,” she said. “I was pleasantly surprised.”

  “Yeah?” I said.

  “You’re working with some pretty…thick…equipment there,” she replied.

  She threw her hand to her mouth, got up, and walked away.

  “I can’t believe I just said that,” she yelled.

  I couldn’t believe what she was wearing. She’d changed out of her skimpy jean shorts and was wearing a pair of my boxers and one of my t-shirts she’d tied into a knot so it wouldn’t hang to her knees. Her hair was up in a bun and I know you must think I’m full of shit, but even through the pain, blood pumped to my cock and it stirred against my leg. She was so unbelievably adorable and ridiculously sexy at the same time.

  You’d think I’d be self-conscious and a little worried that she’d seen me naked in what might have been my shriveled up and soft state, but that’s one thing about being locked up. You get naked so many times in front of so many people that you become almost numb to it. From the group showers to the constant checks for paraphernalia, this constant nudity while in confinement is oddly liberating. I’d be perfectly fine with walking naked down the beach, cock swinging, if it weren’t for the fact I’d be thrown back into the slammer for public nudity.

  After prancing around the bedroom in what can only be described as Valerie’s march of shame, she finally returned to the bed and sat by my side. She took my hand in hers and rubbed it softly. This was the first time in a very long time that I felt cared for and like I might be a part of something special.

  “Why don’t you lie down with me for a while,” I said.

  “Under the blanket?” she asked.

  “You certainly rush into things don’t you,” I joked.

  Her mouth hung open as if I’d insulted her greatly. She laughed and got up from the bed.

  “You are so full of yourself,” she said.

  “I’m really not,” I said. “But I’d love it if you’d stay with me.”

  She grabbed the blanket and yanked it off, leaving me there, stark naked, cock at half-mast. The cool bedroom air nipped at my balls and I reached for the blanket but she’d pulled it far from my reach.

  “Wow,” she said, looking at me. “You’ve definitely woken up.”

  “You’re beautiful,” I said.

  She sat down next to me and then lay down with her head on my chest. She
pulled the blanket over us both and positioned her leg so that her knee was resting against my cock. The feel of her warm skin against me was almost too much to handle. I felt myself hardening against her leg.

  “Get a hold of yourself,” she said.

  “I’m trying.”

  “When I asked you to stay with me,” I said. “I really didn’t mean it in a sexual way. Don’t get me wrong. Everything about you makes me want you that way. But I like having you around. Sleep with me. Like really sleep.”

  The truth was, I wanted to listen to her breathe as she fell asleep. So I could be closer to the faint hint of strawberry that seemed to come from her lip gloss. So I could feel the warmth of her body next to mine.

  “I want to,” she said. “I really do. But Melody will be waking up soon.”

  She had responsibilities. She needed to go home and take care of her little girl. I admired the fact that she had someone to take care of other than herself.

  “Thank you for being here with me,” I said. “If you weren’t, I might still be out there in the street. But go take care of your little girl. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

  She silently nodded.

  “Later you can tell me how and why you ever hooked up with that piece of shit, Davey. I feel like I need to understand what that was all about. How you, such an amazing woman, could be with such a lowlife.”

  She nodded again.

  “I guess I owe you that much,” she said.

  “Later,” I said. “Tell me later. For now, go take care of Melody. Take my car. The keys are on the kitchen counter, in the glass bowl.”

  “I can’t take your car,” she said.

  “It’s not a nice one,” I replied. “It’s a piece of shit but it’ll get you home quickly. And it’ll make sure you come back at some point. Or I’ll report it as stolen.”

  “Thank you, Ivory,” she said. “You’re a good man. I’m glad I met you.”

  “Me too.”

  With that, she left. I heard her take the car keys and close the front door behind her.

  Later that morning, when I woke up from the painkillers Clyde had left me, I found Valerie was sleeping next to me. Her hair was damp and smelled of conditioner. She’d put on fresh clothes. She held onto my arm as she slept. Her lips stayed slightly parted, enough for me to see her teeth, small gaps between them, and I couldn’t help but smile as I imagined her kissing her daughter before putting her on the bus and rushing back to see me. I fell back to sleep and had sweet dreams.