“Are you all done working for the day?” I ask.
“Yes, ma’am.”
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“Oh, please call me Jane. You bought me a drink, after
all. I should be friendly. And I’m finally starting to relax!”
I roll my shoulders and sigh, and this time his eyes go to
my breasts and linger for a drawn-out moment. It’s cold
in here without my sweater, and I’ve got goose bumps
in all the right places.
The chase is starting to turn me on, and the alcohol
helps too. I let my knee rub against his and squeeze my
thighs together to enjoy the lovely friction.
When the third guy returns from the bathroom, he
helpfully drops into a chair at the other table. Derrick
and I have privacy now. I rest my hand on his thin
wrist, my fingertips sliding in slow millimeters. “Tell
me everything about what you do. I’m just fascinated,
Derrick.”
His shoulders widen as I watch, losing any hint of
the burdens he carries, and Derrick starts to talk about
himself. As cool as I think wind turbines are, I can’t
concentrate on what he’s saying. All I can think about is
how good I feel.
I’m in my element, a drink in hand among unsuspect-
ing strangers. I’m working the room, working his ego,
and I’m filled with pleasure and tequila. When Derrick
laughs at something he said, I laugh along, crinkling my
eyes with faux warmth. “You are so funny, Derrick, oh
my God.”
“But it was true! He really thought he was going to
get my job!”
“Hilarious. That’s such a great story.” I pull my hair
up and shake my head. “Gosh, it’s getting warm in here.
Are you warm?”
“Not particularly. It could be that tequila you’re
drinking.”
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“Oh my word, I bet my cheeks are pink as cherries.”
He grins, eyes sliding over my cheeks and then down
to my exposed neck. “You’re a little flushed.”
“Oh boy, I have an idea.” I drop my hair and lean in
quickly. “A naughty idea,” I whisper loudly, as if I have
some sense of discretion but it’s been lubricated loose by
the alcohol.
“Whoa, really?” He licks his lips. “What kind of idea?”
My hand slides over his wrist and up the inside of his
forearm. “I want to see it.”
“Pardon?” His arm tenses beneath my stroking fingers
as he blinks rapidly.
“A windmill. A wind turbine. Please? Will you show
me? I want to see one so bad.”
He pulls back a little, eyes darting toward his men.
“Oh, I can’t do that.”
“Really? Shoot. I thought you were in charge.”
“I am in charge.”
“Then that solves it. Who’s going to stop you?”
His eyes are nearly frantic now, jumping from the
other table to my hand, then back to my mouth. “It’s
not allowed.”
Now I lick my lips, wetting them so they’ll glisten in
the dim lighting and make him think of so many things
he shouldn’t think of. “What’s not allowed?” I purr.
“Unauthorized personnel.”
“Oh, but it’s just me. And it will be our secret. I can’t
tell anyone I went somewhere alone with you, can I?
What would they think? Picking up a strange man at a
bar?” He smiles when I smile. “I couldn’t say a word if
I wanted to. Take me to see one? I promise not to tell.
Please, Derrick?”
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Problem Child
His gaze is moving slower now. Touching on the other
table before focusing on my face, my mouth, my desperate
eyes. “It’s not allowed. I really shouldn’t.”
“Yeah, but … doesn’t that make it feel fun, though?”
“Fuck yes,” he mutters; then his eyes widen. “I’m so
sorry. Excuse my language.” I can tell Derrick has been
following the rules his whole life. He wants to do what
he’s supposed to, and he always has. But what has all that
gotten him? He has an education, he landed a good job,
and he works hard. And now? Now he’s in charge of a
bunch of men who think he’s a pussy. But here I am,
making him feel like a man again.
“I’ve had such a bad day,” I sigh. “My uncle … It
was a lot. It really reminded me of my dad when he…” I
wave my hand like I’m shooing off the saddest of ghosts.
“Ugh. I have to stop thinking about that. I just want to
have a little fun, you know?”
“Yeah. I do know.”
I drain the rest of my drink and slump into a pout.
“But I get it. I don’t want you to do something you don’t
want to do. I’d feel so bad if I got you into trouble after you’ve been so sweet.”
“I…” He looks at the other table one more time. Those
men. Those assholes. Having a blast over there, relieved
they managed to ditch him, when he’s just here to work
the same as they are.
I remove my hand from his arm, depriving him of my
soft, warm skin. “And you’re right, of course, Derrick. It’s wrong, and I shouldn’t have asked.” I let my gaze wander
toward the fun table to let him take in my disappointment
along with my hard nipples. I smile briefly as if one of
his employees has caught my eye.
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Golly, what if one of them takes me up on this little
field trip and reaps the rewards because Derrick was too
much of a coward to seize the day? Just imagine the mock-
ery that would ensue. More laughter. More disrespect.
And more of this dreary life.
Derrick drains the last of his whiskey and sets his glass
down hard. “I’m going to excuse myself to the men’s room
and then I’ll settle the bill. Meet me outside in five.”
I turn a blinding smile on him. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, Derrick. This is going to be so much fun.”
“Yeah,” he says, reflecting my smile again, but this
time his eyes are a little hard. I’ve backed him into a dark corner of his ego, and his adrenaline is pumping now.
Let the games begin.
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I’d better turn in,” I say in a too loud voice. “That’s my limit of tequila.”
Both Derrick and I stand, and I say goodbye to him
before waving to the other men. I hear a couple of groans
as I turn to leave, followed by a whispered “Jesus Christ,
Derrick.” They can’t believe he’s letting a desperate drunk lady walk away unmolested.
I wait next to my car and check my messages. Still
nothing from Brodie. I’ll drop by his house again tomor-
row and knock together a few of his friends’ heads. Or
I’ll bring a case of beer. Whichever.
I do find a text from Luke, however. He’s meeting
a friend for a drink and then heading to his brother’s
house for dinner. That’s the life he wants. Secure and
cozy and warm. I hate that. Hate the idea of relaxi
ng
into life and waiting for death, like a big dumb cow
who doesn’t know about the slaughterhouse waiting
just over the hill.
But what do I want? This? Right now I’m exhilarated.
Excited. I can’t wait for Derrick to walk out and whisk
me away on an adventure. Anything could happen, and
I’m ready for it all.
I’m not physically attracted to Derrick, but I want
danger. I want power. Should I risk what I have with
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Luke for this moment? I don’t have a conscience, but I
definitely have a good sense of self-preservation.
I don’t know what I’m doing in this relationship with
Luke, and uncertainty is not a feeling I’m accustomed to
or appreciate. Damn it.
Derrick finally emerges from the lounge. He looks
around nervously, and when he spots me, he jerks back a
little, surprised I actually waited. After waving me toward him, he makes a ninety-degree turn and heads toward
one of the white pickup trucks decked out in oversize
load signs. I stride fast and strong. The sun is still out, but it’s dipping toward the horizon, and I want to see
everything before it gets dark.
“Yay!” I say as I hop into the passenger side of his truck.
“You can’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t. I swear. You don’t think they saw you?”
“If they did, I don’t think they’ll imagine I’m taking
you to see a turbine.”
“No?” I ask cluelessly.
“No.”
He starts the big truck with a rumble, and I turn up
the country music that’s already playing. I don’t know
this song, and it sounds like filtered shit, but the noise
makes me feel like I’m at a party. “Are you excited?” I ask.
Now that we’re alone and pulling away in the truck,
his shoulders are relaxing from their brief foray into ag-
gressiveness. “I am. Mind if I smoke?”
I wave an accepting hand, and he lights up a Camel.
After his first couple of puffs, I reach out and snag it from him. Then I twist and rest my back against the truck door
so I can face him as I take a long drag and watch him
drive. He can’t help but glance down toward my spread
legs when I rest a knee against the back of my seat.
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“I recognize that logo,” I say as he pulls past the crane.
“Morris Equipment.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, it’s a local company, right? I think my cousin
worked there. Didn’t it close?”
“I think so,” he confirms.
“What happened?”
“I’m not sure. Just heard they shut down about a
month ago.”
“But you’re still using his equipment. Do you know
him or something?”
He frowns a little, confused by my interest. “No, I
don’t know him. He sold his gear off, I guess. We got
this from another company.”
Damn. That’s the end of that. “That’s too bad,” I
murmur.
“I wouldn’t feel too sorry for him,” Derrick says. “His
brother is the lieutenant governor.”
I sit up a little straighter, bumping my head into the
side window. “Who? Roy Morris?”
“Yeah. His brother is rich and politically powerful, so
he’ll be just fine even without a lick of common sense.
Those guys always land on their feet.”
Well, well, well, this is very intriguing. A powerful
man who had contact with my missing niece? I tap the
information into my phone and hit search. This girl is
more interesting now. What has she gotten herself into?
Is this Morris guy the reason she disappeared?
The lieutenant governor is indeed also named Morris.
Bill Morris. He’s an average-looking white man in his
fifties. Receding hairline, jaw going soft, a fake smile
that’s too awkward in this age of friendly selfie smiles.
He also owns an oil company worth nearly fifty million.
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“So you live in Norman, huh?” Derrick interrupts,
obviously feeling neglected.
“What?” I ask.
“We work over there occasionally. Maybe I could call
you next time we’re in town? We could grab dinner. Get
to know each other?”
“Sure,” I mutter.
“I think we’re scheduled to head east next month, and
I make the motel arrangements, so … There’s no reason
we can’t overnight in Norman. I’d love to see you.”
I sigh and decide I’ll have plenty of time to do research
later. Right now I should concentrate on my current goal:
I’m about to meet a wind robot!
I click off my phone and smile. “You’d really have
time to take me out if you’re working in Norman?”
“I’d make time to take you out,” he says with a grin.
Soothed by his attention, I sink back into my role.
“Aw, that’s so sweet, Derrick.”
“Life on the road gets lonely sometimes. If you’re not
seeing anyone … And you’ve got a place?”
“Sure. What kind of food do you like? Maybe I could
make something homecooked for you. You must get tired
of restaurant food.”
“I sure do. That sounds like a great time. Good food.
Good company.”
I’m already bored with this imaginary assignation, so
I change the subject to the only date with Derrick that’s
actually going to happen. “How long until we get to the
turbine?”
He tips his head toward the road. “There’s a good,
secluded approach about five miles from here. Not vis-
ible from the highway. You know, you look different
out here.”
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Problem Child
I pass him back the cigarette and scrape my teeth
over my lower lip. “Oh yeah?” I guess Naive Tequila
Sunrise Jane wouldn’t sit with her legs spread and shoulders slouched. “It’s just the tequila loosening me up.”
“Mm. I feel pretty good myself right now.”
“I can trust you, right? Letting you take me off the
highway to a secluded spot? You’re not going to kill me?”
He blinks and sits up a little straighter. “No way. You
can trust me. I’m a good guy.”
I lean forward and reward him with a little pat on the
leg, then I steal another drag of his cigarette. “All right.”
Just over the horizon, the turbine blades start peeking at
us as they spin, so I face front again and point. “Is that
the one? Right there?”
“Almost. It’s just past that one. You can’t quite see
it yet.”
“God, this is cool.” The earlier clouds have cleared
away, and the evening sun turns all the ugly brown scrub
to gold. Each rotation of the blade catches a little yellow-orange light, and the nicotine is hitting my blood, and
I feel perfect.
“You’re a funny girl,” he says.
“Am I?” Yes, I am. A strange girl. A puzzle. An abomi-
nation, according to dear old Ma. I’m the male fantasy
and
the male fear all rolled into one package.
He doesn’t know I’m dangerous, of course. Because
I’m a woman. But I could have lured him out with no
one knowing. I could have approached him in secret with
a fake name, and he would have taken me here because
I asked.
He understands that I’ve been conditioned not to be
a cocktease, not to lead him on, not to flaunt something
he can’t have, because then he’ll have a right to take it.
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Victoria Helen Stone
He knows that if I let him buy my drinks and get me
alone I’m obligated to put out. He knows he’s the winner
here. He’s the man.
What he doesn’t know is that his testicles don’t im-
bue him with immortality, and I could easily get out a
gun while he’s fumbling with the button of his pants. I
could kill him and leave his body in the dirt where no
one would spot it from the highway. Like he’s a woman.
Like he’s one of a million dead women.
Why did he have a drink with her if he didn’t want it? Why did he let her into his truck? Why did he go off with her if he wanted to say no? What did he expect to happen? You really have to be smarter if you don’t want to get murdered by
strange women.
I smirk into the sunlight and wonder why there aren’t
more female serial killers. It would be such a simple job.
I’m not talking about myself, of course. I like my cozy
lifestyle far too much to risk trading it for prison. There are ways to make a point without committing murder.
But Derrick sure would go down quick and easy.
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CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Derrick exits the highway onto a paved road, but a few
minutes later it transitions to red dirt and isolation. There are a couple of turbines ahead of us now, and I lean forward to get a full view of them through the windshield,
their giant metal bodies filling my vision.
My nerves thrum with excitement or maybe with the
low vibrations of the spinning blades. Either way, it feels great. Just because I’m here to search for a missing girl
doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have fun along the way.
Derrick drives past the nearest turbine and turns onto
a track that’s barely there. It dips down into a small hol-
low, and two tire ruts of the trail climb back out to the
base of the next turbine. He stops while we’re still in the depression and parks the truck.
I clap my hands. “Just look at it!”
He’s grinning like a little boy now. “You were serious
about this, huh?”
“Absolutely! We can go inside when it’s turning?”
Problem Child (ARC) Page 16
