by Susanne Beck
"Which should be in seventy-two hours, barring any unforeseen circumstances," Corinne reported.
"Why so long?" I asked.
"Our physician in residence wants to make sure there are no internal injuries waiting to surprise us down the road." She looked at Ice, awe glittering hard in her eyes. "How you were able to inflict so much superficial damage without breaking any of his bones is something I’ll never understand. It was a pleasure watching a master in action."
I looked away, slightly sickened. Accepting that Ice had beaten someone bloody in anger was one thing. Having someone else express joy in that was another thing entirely.
"So," I said finally, just to break the uncomfortable silence, "what now?"
Ice straightened and released my hand. "I need to contact Donita." And with that, she left.
I sank slowly to Corinne’s narrow bed, my eyes still glued to the images on the television. Corinne stood nearby, her dark eyes darting back and forth as we watched the bodies as they were loaded into ambulances. Though I knew in my very soul that these were the men who had killed Rio, injured Pony, and tried their best to kill us all, deep down, I still felt a sense of sorrow.
Not for them, of course, for they were dead and beyond caring.
But for their families and their loved ones. For their children who would spend days, months, perhaps years wondering when their fathers would be coming home. For parents who would grieve their passing, and for spouses or lovers who would never get used to going to sleep in an empty bed.
It could have been me.
It still might, one day, given the life I’ve chosen to lead.
And that’s what it all comes down to, doesn’t it.
Choice.
Those men lived by their choices, and died by their choices. As do we all, I suppose, in one way or another.
That’s not to say that I was happy that those men were dead, nor that I would have wished their deaths upon them had I the ability to do so.
But as I’ve come to realize, especially over these last several gut-wrenching days, responsibility is a great deal easier in theory than it is in practice. Everyone bears some responsibility for their actions, and for the pain those actions cause in others.
As the meaning behind that thought hit me full force in the guts, I straightened and turned to Corinne. "I have to talk to them."
She smiled. That wise, almost ancient smile she sometimes uses, and nodded, well knowing of whom I was speaking. "They need that, Angel."
I nodded, sucking in a deep, deep breath. "I know. They’re my friends. And even if they weren’t, they deserve more than silence from me."
Leaning down, Corinne pressed the smooth, cool skin of her cheek against my own. "That’s my Angel."
I squeezed her tight, then stood as she backed away. "I don’t feel very much like one right now, Corinne, but thanks."
"We all learn from our mistakes. Even Angels," she said quietly, then sent me on my way.
Swallowing back my fear, I walked the few short steps that would take me to the room Pony and Critter shared. The door was closed, as I’d known it would be, and as I lifted my hand to knock, I played what I would say to them over in my mind. Which didn’t amount to much more than "I’m sorry, please forgive me.", but it was the best I could do at the moment. It seemed I was suddenly out of words.
The door opened before I could knock, and Critter stood there. We both looked at one another, uncertain. Such a large part of me demanded my retreat that I almost gave into it. Another part of me just wanted to break down in tears and hug her to try to take the pain from her eyes. I stood between that proverbial rock and hard place for a long moment before this newly born sense of responsibility kicked me in the hind quarters and made my decision for me.
"I...um...may I come in?"
After a second, she backed away, giving me space to enter. "Sure."
I entered the room, my steps slow and hesitant. There, on the bed and covered to her chin with a sheet, lay Pony. She looked somewhat pale and somewhat drawn, but much better than I’d honestly expected. Her dark eyes caught and held my gaze. There was some pain in them, as well as some uncertainty, but none of the anger or loathing that I’d expected. Or, in truth, deserved.
"Hi, Pony," I said softly, coming to a stop several feet from her bed.
"Hey, Angel." Her voice, though slightly raspy, was strong and sure. "How are you doing?"
That question, of course, only made me feel worse. I wasn’t the one shot, after all. "I’m doing ok. How about you?"
She shrugged. "Not bad. Doc says I should be up and around in no time." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "I just wish Nurse Ratchet here would get that through her head."
Though I wanted to laugh, I didn’t, still too scared to hope that things between us could ever be the way they were before.
"How’s Ice?" she asked.
"A little better. She’s still mourning Rio’s death, but... ." I shrugged, conveying the impossibility of guessing my lover’s emotions.
Pony grinned. "I heard she beat the shit outta Cavallo."
I nodded in lieu of answering verbally, and watched as Critter came to sit on the side of the bed. With both sets of eyes on me, it became even more difficult to think, and my words tumbled out of me like water going over a fall. "I know you won’t be able to forgive me, I can’t even forgive myself, but I just wanted you both to know how sorry I am for what I did the other night to both of you. It was wrong of me. I almost killed you both. You’re my friends and I treated you horribly. I was selfish and pig-headed and blind and I acted like a total idiot. I just wanted to tell you that. That I’m sorry for what I did, and I’m sorry for avoiding you these past few days. You don’t deserve that. Not from me, not from anyone else. I was an idiot, and I was scared. I’m sorry."
I ground do a halt, my words all used up. I stood there, numb, not daring to read anything into the way they looked back at me.
What happened next I’ll leave for Pony and Critter to tell, if they ever get a notion to do such. Suffice it to say that these two women, who most of society would look down upon and speak ill of because of their past mistakes, have more honor and integrity, compassion and caring, love and loyalty than any thousand who claim that to have the handle on getting into heaven first.
They taught me something about friendship that day, and about forgiveness, and the power of love.
I can only hope that one day, I can feel deserving of the honor they’ve given me by calling me "friend".
* * *
That evening, as I lay naked between the cool, crisp sheets of our bed, Ice walked in, her eyes dark and distant.
"What’s wrong?" I asked, immediately coming up to my elbows as her expression registered.
She tapped her cell-phone absently against her palm. "I haven’t been able to contact Donita."
My belly fluttered. "At all? But I thought you had a hotline to her directly?"
"I do. She’s not answering it."
"Did you try any of the other numbers? No, forget I asked. Of course you did." I wriggled until I was sitting up, my legs crossed in front of me. "Do you know of anyone up there who might know where she is? The prosecutor, maybe? Or the judge?"
"The only person I trust is Donita."
I nodded, biting my lower lip. "So...what now? Do we wait until you can get in touch with her somehow?"
Ice shook her head. "We can’t afford to. As soon as Cavallo is able to travel, we move."
"Even if we don’t know where we’re taking him?"
"Even then," she replied, firm resolution coloring her tones. "Did the news give any more details?"
"Not really. They still haven’t identified the bodies. The story doesn’t seem to have made it up here yet. At least not that we heard."
"Good." Laying the cell phone down on the nightstand, she tiredly stripped off her clothes, then slipped between the sheets and rested her head on my thigh.
Smiling, I sifted my hand through
the soft onyx strands of her hair, enjoying, as always, the feel of it against my fingers.
A small contented hum made its way up from her throat as her body relaxed against mine, and the very tips of her fingers drew abstract designs on my legs.
Sensing her exhaustion, I deepened my touches and rubbed along her scalp and forehead, doing my best to ease away the day’s tension. Almost before I knew it, her own touches slowed to a stop and her breathing deepened and evened out into true slumber; the first she’d had in days, if not weeks.
And though we were standing on a precipice over a chasm so deep I couldn’t see the bottom, I hugged this tiny island of peace around me like a warm sweater and let my doubts and my fears be washed away by the awesome power that was love.
* * *
"Oh yes, love," I gasped as a pair of warm, wet lips applied gentle suction to a particularly sensitive area at the back of my neck. That gasp turned into a groan as long fingers danced across my breasts in time with the rapidly quickening beat of my heart. Leaning back into the long body behind me, I felt Ice’s hips rock against my towel-covered behind, and the sensation caused a sudden weakening in my knees.
Overcome with a need I knew only too well, I spun within the circle of her loose embrace and crushed our bodies together even as my hands reached up and through the shining raven locks of her hair to pull her head down to meet mine in an incendiary tangle of lips and tongues.
"Bed," I gasped when I pulled away for much needed air. "Now."
Growling deep in her chest, she lifted me easily from my feet as my own hands worked at the towel girding her lower half, courtesy of our shared morning shower.
Before I could blink, I found myself flat on my back as the bedsprings squeaked out their displeasure beneath me. Ice loomed over me, the look on her face the epitome of every fantasy I’d ever dreamed of and a few I hadn’t even thought up yet.
Like a lioness she was, all tawny sleekness and barely controlled hunger. Her eyes, passion-dark, swept over my body setting fires wherever her gaze touched down. Her nostrils flared, scenting the air and the passion growing between us. She growled again, long and low, and my body became liquid and burned hotter than the sun.
Taking care to make sure that no part of our bodies were touching, she came in low. White teeth snatched at my lower lip and a strong tongue swirled and tasted its captured prize, then tugged and released and recaptured until I thought I would go mad with this all-encompassing need she was engendering within me.
My hips sent out a plea of their own, and I groaned when their fruitless quest was answered only by the cool air of the room beyond.
My groan of frustration was answered by a wicked chuckle, but she was fair, this mistress of my passions, and used my own desire against me for only a moment longer before ending the sweet torture and melding our bodies together.
Oh, the transcendence of that one exquisite moment when we joined together as two halves of a perfect whole.
Ice’s towel had loosened somewhere along the way, and lush heat of her passion as it bathed my flesh sent me spiraling far and away. Lips softer than the finest silk enveloped my breasts, and the air was filled with the sensual sounds of flesh moving against flesh.
A moment later, Ice stiffened above me, but not in passion. My eyes sprung open to catch an intent look on her face.
"What?" I whispered, barely having the breath for it.
And then I heard it, the sounds of a struggle going on in the next room, complete with muffled shouts and angry voices, one of which was undeniably Pony’s.
At that particular moment, however, I didn’t care why Pony was yelling or who Pony was yelling at. I wanted Ice, and I wanted her now.
She returned willingly enough, capturing my lips in another incendiary kiss as her hand began its slow, teasing trek down to where I most desperately needed it. Then she halted again. I groaned in frustration, slapping my hand down on the mattress hard enough to sting.
This time, we both heard the shout simultaneously.
Just one word, but it was as if ice water had been thrown over both of us.
"Police!"
Ice rolled off the bed and stood, all in one fluid motion. She was across the room and had her hand on the door handle before I even had the chance to sit up.
"Ice! Don’t forget your... .robe," I sighed, talking to nothing but empty air. "Oh boy."
Managing to get my stunned limbs to cooperate, I stood up a great deal less gracefully than did my partner, grabbed my own robe and belted it over my nakedness before grabbing a second and bolting after her.
If the situation hadn’t been so serious, I would have fallen to the floor with laughter as I slid into Pony’s room. It was as if I’d walked in on a very adult version of the game of "Statues".
Pony was flat on her back in the bed with Critter half-sprawled atop her in a position which could have very definitely been construed as sexual had they both not been fully clothed. Nia was standing in one corner, her eyes so wide that if they hadn’t been attached to her skull, I felt sure they’d pop right out and roll around on the floor like marbles. Cheeto was standing next to Nia, the tanned skin of her face flushed a shining red. Cowgirl, standing next to her, didn’t have the benefit of a tan, and the flush on her face was tending toward purple.
And, of course, the centerpiece of this tableau was my naked lover, to whom all gazes were affixed.
Gathering myself, I crossed the last, small distance between us and slipped the robe over Ice’s shoulders. Though she pulled it on and belted it closed over the vast expanse of her wonderful flesh, those actions did nothing to break the frozen stares of her admirers.
That feat was accomplished by Montana, who stalked into the room with a grim expression on her face. Entering, she took charge effortlessly.
"Cowgirl, Cheeto, get out to the perimeter. I want to know the second they get within sighting distance. Critter, round up the non-Amazons and get them into the house. Move!"
As Critter jumped up, Pony attempted to get out of the bed, only to find herself pushed down by her lover. "Oh no ya don’t, hero. You just stay there and let the rest of us grunts take care of the dirty work for ya."
"Like hell I will!" Pony growled, using her greater strength to overpower her thinner lover. "Get the fuck off me, will ya?"
"Pony!"
"Enough."
Though not spoken in a loud tone, that one word had the entire force of Ice’s personality behind it, and once again, the entire room froze in place.
"What’s going on?" she asked Montana, still in that same smooth, controlled tone.
"Paycheck just called in. Ten or more police cruisers are heading here full bore."
"Cavallo?"
"No. Apparently, Nia’s husband has decided to bring in the cavalry."
Nia stepped forward and laid a hand on Pony’s shoulder. "Please, stay in bed. I’ll handle this."
"But... ."
She sighed, and suddenly I saw a new Nia standing in place of the old. A sadder, wiser Nia who’d learned a few life lessons the hardest way possible.
"Rio taught me something the other day," she said as if speaking to herself. "She taught me that it’s time I grew up and stood up for something I believed in." Raising her chin proudly, she looked, in turn, at each one of us. "I’ve decided to start with believing in me."
"Nia," Pony protested, "you can’t just... ."
"Yes, Pony, I can. And I will. Every one of you has given of yourselves for me. And it’s about time I started giving back." She turned beseeching eyes to Montana. "Please, ask Pony to stay here. I don’t want anyone else hurt because of me."
"You’re not thinking about going back to him," Montana said.
"No. Never again. He’s probably got those police convinced that I was kidnapped and brought here against my will. I’ll just have to convince them that I’m here because I want to be."
After a long, searching moment, Montana nodded. "Alright, but you’re going to have b
ackup, just in case."
"Alright," she softly replied.
"Great!" Pony shouted, renewing her struggle to free herself from Critter’s embrace.
"Not you, Pony. You stay in bed. We can take care of this without you just this once."
"Damnit! Not you too, Montana! Come on! I’m not an invalid, for Christ’s sake!"
"No, but you might just become one if I see you step one foot outside of that bed, Pony. And I mean that."
With a groan worthy of an Emmy, or a martyrdom, Pony slumped back on the bed and covered her face with one arm.
Then Montana turned to Ice and myself. "You two need to get out of here. Doc’s already preparing Cavallo for the journey. Even though the police are here for Nia, we can’t afford to have them do a search of the house."
Ice nodded. "We’ll be ready in five minutes."
Turning, she took my hand and we headed back to our room to prepare for a journey whose ending was anything but certain.
* * *
We didn’t talk as we returned to our room. There really wasn’t much to say at that point. Ice had already tried to talk me out of accompanying her, and I’d turned her down flatter than roadkill. My butt was as much on the line as hers was, and whatever happened, I was more determined than ever that we’d see it through together.
Reaching under the bed, she pulled out her black duffel, already packed, then opened a drawer in the bedside stand and removed her gun. Though it was as much a part of Ice as the color of her eyes, I detested that gun, with its pristine, shining finish and malevolent air. I avoided it like the plague, and if I could have made an evil-eye sign to ward off the cold shudders I got whenever I looked at it, I would have.
She didn’t even bother looking at me as she opened the clip and then chambered a round before slipping it into the waistband of her jeans at the back. "You ready?"
"In a second," I replied, reaching for my own, mostly-packed, bag. "How long should I plan for?"
"At least two weeks, but don’t pack too much. With Cavallo, we’re not gonna have too much room to spare."
"What car are we taking, anyway?"
