Knowing full well the answer to my question is something to do with the gorillas who dropped me off last night, I ask, “How the hell do you even know where I live?” Trying to maintain the anger in my voice to disguise the desire I have to hop onto the hood of his car and command he takes me.
He doesn’t answer that question either.
“We need to talk.” He pushes off the car and stalks toward me.
9
Isaac
When Carlos saw the altercation I had with Cate outside the gym, I knew I had to draw an end to this. He may have accepted my flippant remark about her being a hooker, pissed she didn’t get a bigger tip. But he’s not stupid. Far from it. And, if he ever sees her again, he will take an interest. And although Carlos trusts me more than most, he trusts nobody. I’m not even convinced he trusts himself.
Even though I didn’t want to come back to San Diego, I did with one promise to myself—the past didn’t get in the way. I’ve a new identity now— nothing to do with Isaac and nothing to do with Cate. So, I have to stop her from pushing her way into it.
I don’t know which direction she came home but I’ve been here a while and it’s lucky for me she’s still on her own.
Ignoring her first two questions, I push off the car and step towards her, allowing three pathetic punches to land on my chest before I grab hold of her wrists.
“Let it go,” I growl.
She takes a step back. “Let it go?” Her fists ride onto her hips, her cheeks flush and little beads of sweat appear on her forehead. Rising on her tiptoes, she repeats her last line. “Let it go? How dare you?”
Her feistiness makes goosebumps tickle the back of my neck and my cock twitch. She’s grown so much since our sweet teenage love.
But I can’t let my desires taint this.
With control, I lower my voice. “Let’s talk inside; not out here.”
“No. No way. You can’t come in.” She shakes her head and tries to brush passed me but she’s too slow. I grab hold of her wrist and reel her into me. My eyes lock on to hers and I glimpse the fear. Heavily shrouded by a cocky, snappy exterior. I’d recognize that emotion anywhere—it’s the one I look out for in the ring.
I haul her towards the SUV. “Get in.”
She tries to wriggle from my grasp but my grip is too firm. I open the driver’s door and push her in and over to the passenger side of the car. Hopping up next to her, I press the central lock on the doors.
“This is kidnap. A felony if you didn’t know already know?”
I ignore her plea and wheel-spin out of the drive. Heading south. I need to get us out of town. Somewhere I won’t be spotted and I can make her see what a mistake she’s making.
She seems to settle somewhat. Chewing on her fingers and gazing out the side window.
I release the tension of my fist wrapped around the top of the steering wheel and relax my back into the molded seat.
We travel in silence for three quarters of an hour until eventually I make a sharp right down a pot-hole riddled track towards the Ocean. Although I’ve not been here for seven years, I’m assuming it’ll be as deserted as ever.
Kate removes her elbow from the door and clasps her hands together on her lap. She knows where we’re going. This used to be one of our dating haunts. Where we would go to make out. Swim naked in the refreshing ocean. Talk about shit. Just be.
She looks at me, a brief sadness cast my way.
I know Kitty. This was a poor choice of location. But you’re fucking with my mind right now and I can’t see through the fog.
Eventually, I skate out into a clearing and shut down the engine. We listen to it ticking for a few seconds before she pivots her head to me.
“Is this a sick joke?”
“No. But I know you won’t run from here.”
“Do you wanna bet?”
I laugh and shake my head. “You sure as hell have lost none of your spirit.”
“Screw you.” She crosses her arms and presses her lips in to a thin line.
I pull on the door handle and grasp her elbow, hauling her once more toward me.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” She tries to pull back on my grip which makes me laugh more. I drag her across the central console, her bare feet scrabbling on the seat.
“Don’t you know it’s dangerous to drive with no shoes on?” I tell her.
“What?” she snaps. “You kidnap me in broad daylight and bring me to this godforsaken place and all you can comment on is my lack of footwear?”
Without comment, I slide my hand from her elbow and into her hand, kick the car door shut with my foot, and plow through long grasses until we break out onto the beach. As I suspected, this stretch is the quiet—not even dog walkers, let alone bathers around.
We walk several more yards over the deep fine sand before she drops to her knees behind me. “Stop, will you? I’ve had enough already.“
I let go of her hand and sit on a piece of driftwood on the wrack line which snakes with sea-weed, pebbles, and plastic bottles along the beach. For a moment I indulge myself on her limped form. My eyes run over her face—the familiar lines of her cheekbones and the cute button-end to her nose. Even her ice-blue eyes are exactly the same as I remember contrasting exotically against her mahogany-colored hair.
“Cate. You need to do as you’re told.”
She huffs and sags her shoulders further. “Give me one good reason?”
“I won’t justify this. But believe me, you have to stay away.”
“I got the message loud and clear last night.”
I stretch out my hands in frustration. “So why the fuck did you come to the gym this morning?”
“To give you your shit back.” She picks up a long thin stone and carves a line in the sand.
Snapping up from her doodling, I say, “Fine. I’ve got my shit and now I need you to promise me you’ll never go there again.”
“Why? What’s happened to you?” She looks to me with a soft, almost pitiful expression.
I chew on my bottom lip for a few seconds. “I’ve changed.”
“I can see that.” She pushes off her knees and slumps her backside onto the sand. “You’re a complete asshole now.”
It’s impossible not to chuckle at her assertion. She’s right. I am an asshole, of the biggest variety.
Crossing her ankles in front of me, she wiggles her toes. They’re exactly as I remember and I have a flashback to when we would float naked in the Ocean. Massaging her toes before dragging each foot until she drifted on top of me.
The sound of the waves taunt me with my memories. Seagulls dive into the surf pecking away at my resolve.
“Anyway, asshole. If you’re hellbent on not seeing me, why did you come to find me last night? And if you’re not interested, why did you bother to find out where I live?”
I lick my lips, to reignite the taste from last night. I’m so fucked. “Because now I need to protect you.”
“Bullshit.” She attempts to stand, but I get there before she does.
“Cate.” I grasp her hair in my hands and fist it at either side of her head. “You don’t know what you’re getting in to.”
Unable to hold her stare, I let my eyes drift to her lips, at the moment she parts them. Oh fuck. I feel my heart race, the thumping louder than any time in the cage. Blood surges through my arteries and veins, pumping me in a way that’s out of my control.
“I’m sure I can handle it,” she hisses. “I’ve been through a lot since you’ve been away.”
I loosen the grip on her hair. “Nothing like this. You need to leave it. I won’t say it again. Stay. Away.”
She’s doesn’t reply. Her feisty retorts dried up, and when I look back to her eyes, I can see why. She feels it too. This thing between us has not finished. Seven years ago, we pressed pause and now it must be brought to an end.
A dog barks and the owner calls out for it. Our moment alone in this world gone.
I let her silky hair float thr
ough my fingers.
“Promise?” I ask, knowing my voice has dropped its usual gruffness. “Promise to forget me?”
Her dark eyelashes flicker for a moment and she juts out her jaw, making me expect another snide remark.
“Yes,” she breathes, her eyes dropping. “Now will you take me home.”
My heart sinks.
She’s doing what I ask but not what I want.
Without a word, I walk to the car and silently she follows. With the agreement between us made, I drive on autopilot to the city.
Since she’s agreed not to bother me again, I’m left thinking about her and who she is now. I glance across to the hands she wrings together. I know she’s not married and the absence of a wedding band or even an engagement ring makes me sad. Sad no-one else has wanted to make this woman theirs. I would’ve done.
She pulls her bare feet into a cross-legged position, tapping them on the leather seat in time to ‘Talk’ by Khalid playing on the radio she’s turned on. How ironic.
The song taunts me, as it’s what I want to do—turn the radio off and talk to her. But I don’t.
It’s a commercial radio station and when the music finally stops, an advertisement blares out for an auto repair shop; the owner singing his services in a grating way.
“Hey, do you know where that garage is?” she asks.
I look across to her in amazement. “What, am I your secretary now?” Immediately, I’m annoyed with my grumpy retort.
She lets out a huff.
“What do you need a garage for?” I glance across at her.
“Duh, my car.”
“What are you spending money on that heap of crap for?”
She wriggles her feet from under her ass and sits straight. “Very funny. It’s a good little runner and just needs the air-conditioning fixing. And maybe the bodywork after this morning.” She rests her elbow on the door and stares out of the window and mutters, “Just because you seem to have landed on your feet and don’t have money worries, doesn’t mean you can diss my car or my life.”
I’ve pissed her off with the remark. And she’s right, money-wise I have landed on my feet. It’s everything else that’s a clusterfuck.
With her face away from me, I allow myself one last look over her body, my eyes drinking in her womanly curves and my mind wandering back to last night when her wet skin glided over mine. I sniff in a deep breath remembering the sweet, luscious smell of her neck and the satin smooth feel of her skin on my fingertips.
It’s a new memory I have now of her. One which replaces the teenage memoir. But there’s something not right with it. Something I need to stop interrogating before I go too far. I’m at the point where I’ve sealed off that option. Dwelling on it might rip it apart again.
I reach across to the radio and punch my forefinger on the off-button. Her jaw slides off her hand as if she is about to say something but doesn’t bother and we drive the rest of the way in silence. The traffic slow. Every traffic light out to get me.
Eventually, I pull the car into her driveway, allowing the front fender to nudge against hers. It’s symbolic and earns me a scowl. I don’t like it, but for her sake it’s exactly the way she should feel about me. Mad.
She hops out of the car and makes straight for her front door without giving me a second glance. I watch her all the way in and there’s not a falter to her step; the only movement the flick of her hair over her shoulders.
Good. Maybe it’s the end. For now.
10
Cate
The door closes with a satisfying click and I slouch onto the sofa, listening to Isaac reverse out of the drive and then power away with a heavy roar from the engine.
I’m shattered. Worn out by the drama of it all.
This was not how any of it was meant to play out. Ever since he was imprisoned seven years ago, I’ve been trapped in a nightmare. Living through one unwelcome event after another and I’ve used up my energy to fight against every single one.
Something digs into the small of my back. I reach a hand underneath and pull out Mr Rat. My daughter has a strange obsession with all things boyish.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket and as I bring it to my face, there’s a surge of anticipation rushing through my body that it may be Isaac. But no, it won’t be, he’s made me promise to never contact him again.
It’s Elliot. I stare at his name for a while before deciding to answer. It’s obvious he will give me a mouthful of snark and it will cheer me no end.
“Hey Chica,” he chirps. “What happened to you last night? I went to the bar, and they said you’d gone off with a guy. I mean really? You’ve already got one dick you don’t know what to do with. What you gonna do with another?”
I chuckle at his absurd reasoning. “First, I did not go off with any other guy and second, I know exactly what to do with the one I’ve already got.”
“Tsk. Don’t you be pulling a fast one with me.”
“What do you mean?” A modicum of panic rising through my chest.
“You didn’t go to Nate’s.”
I roll into a seating position, calming my mind. I can’t admit to Elliot what happened last night. Or this morning.
“How do you know?”
“He text.”
“Oh?” I don’t know have a response, but I’m surprised Nate would bother. He barely knows any of my friends.
“So? Where did you go?”
“I… I went home.”
“Not very convincing you know?”
“Well, it’s the most you’re getting out of me.”
After a few unusual seconds of silence from Elliot, he asks, “So, what you up to today? Have you picked Hope up yet?”
I twirl the long tail of the stuffed rat around my finger, watching the coil spring straight again when I release it, before answering him. “No, she’s at Mom’s again tonight.”
“We going to get on it then? I’ve not had a day drinking session in forever.”
“No. I can’t.”
I feel lost now, without a purpose. As long as Hope’s been around I’ve always thought what I would do if I saw Isaac again. And even though I spent many years thinking he would rot in jail, there was always a glimmer of hope he would come home to us and we’d make a go of it. A perfect little family. I shake my head at the ridiculous notion.
“Sorry Elliot, I’m not feeling it today. I need to get the A/C fixed on my car and maybe tackle some domestic shit around here.”
“Sounds boring as…”
“Yes, but then I’ve got responsibilities,” I whine.
“Okay,” he says in a hurt tone. “I’ll find another playmate to have fun with and send you pictures.”
I laugh at his remark. “Okay, okay. I can’t go missing out, can I? Message me when you’ve made the arrangements and I’ll let you know.”
Choosing my words carefully, I text an apology to Nate for ditching him last night. Telling him Hope’s at Mom’s again tonight. He’ll make of that what he will. I’m not chasing him.
I slide the phone across to the coffee table and study the ugly face of the rat. Wincing at how Hope has plucked each of the whiskers from its now bald face.
On a sigh, I push up, taking in the room's mess. I should clear this crap. And with the thought gleefully drifting out of my head, I call Mom. When she answers the phone, I can hear scrabbling in the background.
“How’s things? Are you enjoying your free weekend?” she asks, none the wiser.
I roll my eyes at the thought of what’s happened so far this weekend. “Yes. I wondered if you wanted me to pick Hope up today?”
“Are you missing her?”
“Always.”
“No need to worry, she’s having a fantastic time with us and we’re heading off to Aunt Maude’s.” She pauses. “You can always come with us? Although we’re ready to go now. It’s a long drive upstate.”
Looking at my sandy feet, I say. “I’ll pass. I need a shower but send her my lov
e.”
Aunt Maude was so helpful when I found out I was pregnant. Helping bridge the gap in understanding between Mom and me. She’s the philosophical one out of the two sisters and has more of an inclination to see everyone’s point of view and all the shades of gray in between.
“Is Hope free for me to talk to?”
“Let me check?”
I listen to Mom shouting in the background. Then I hear a joyful squeal which makes me smile as easily as it makes my heart squeeze.
Mom comes back to the phone, out of breath. “She thinks it’s a game,” she puffs. “She keeps running around the dining table but I can’t grab hold of her.”
“No worries. She sounds as if she’s having fun. Give her a kiss from me.”
“Okay honey, we’ll get off now and will see you tomorrow afternoon.”
The line goes quiet and I move the phone to my other ear, wondering if she’s cut off the call. Then softly she asks, “Are you sure you’re okay, Cate?”
Cuffing my emotions, I reply, “Yes, Mom.”
Once Mom and Dad set aside their shock of my five-month pregnancy they have been right by my side. There was nothing anyone could do about it by then, and now I wouldn’t have it any other way. Even though they desperately wanted me to stay at home, I didn’t. I’ve always been fiercely independent and whether my choices have been right or wrong I’ve insisted on dealing with the consequences myself. And it looks like today is no exception.
I drop to my knees and bundle Hope’s toys into a decorated wooden chest next to the TV, when a text comes through from Nate.
Nate: Hookup tonight?
I smile. He’s probably missed our Friday night acrobatics too. And I need to get the taste of shit-for-brains Isaac, or Raul, or whoever the hell he is, off my lips.
Me: Your place?
Not that it’s ever anywhere else. Even though it’s only me here tonight, I’m fiercely protective of letting him in to our space. It’s how things start.
Nate’s text reminds me of the excited feeling I would get when Isaac would send me a message to meet. I arrest myself—no it doesn’t, it’s nothing like that. When Isaac texted, my heart would beat into my mouth and I’d feel instantly sick and giddy. How miraculous it was, with a simple thought my body would act as if it had been given a drug. What’s it called again? Oh yeah, that’s it. Love.
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