Ten Tiny Breaths

by K. A. Tucker

  “Yep.” I busy myself with wiping the counter down and stacking freshly washed glasses.

  “You’re a big talker, aren’t you?”

  “Us fully-dressed girls have to work extra hard for our money.”

  His head falls back to look at me. “Fair enough. Listen—next time you’re at the gym and I’m there, come get me. We can go a few rounds.” He saunters away, not waiting for my response.

  Oh, I’ll go a few rounds with you, but probably not the kind your crotch brain is offering. I follow his movements, about to holler, “You got it, Lawyer Boy!” but the words die on my lips.

  Trent is sitting at a single top bar height table.

  And he’s not watching the naked pretzel on the stage. He’s watching me.

  Check that. Staring at me.

  Trent is here and he’s staring at me.

  “What the hell …” I grumble to no one in particular, ducking my head. I can’t deal with him and what he does to me now. Here. Tonight. Fuck!

  I sense a form step up to the bar and I cautiously look up. It’s Nate, thank God. He’s back from the cowboy eviction already. “Is that guy bothering you, Kacey?”

  I swallow. “Nah.” Yes, but not for the reasons you think.

  “You sure?” He pivots his massive body to check the table. Trent’s still there, leaning his long body back into his chair, sipping on his straw, his focus now on Cherry. “He’s been there for half an hour. He’s been watching you.”

  “He has?” I squeak and then quickly add in a normal tone, “he’s my neighbor. It’s okay.”

  Nate’s dark orbs wander the rest of the room, looking for grabby guys that he can toss out the door, no doubt. “You make sure you tell me if he bothers you, okay, Kacey?”

  When I don’t answer, he looks down at me again, that thunderous voice of his a little softer. “Okay?”

  I nod. “Yup, you got it, Nate.”

  With a curt bob of his head, he wanders back to stand at his post like a sentry. One who could rip a guy’s legs right out of their sockets if he sneezes too hard.

  “What was that about?” Storm sneaks up behind me.

  “Oh, nothing.” My voice is still shaky and I can’t get my tongue to work properly. I hazard another glance over at Trent. He’s leaning into the table, toying with his straw, while Mediterranean Barbie—Bella, I think she goes by—presses her scantily clad body against his thigh. I watch as she gestures toward the V.I.P. room, her hand slipping over the back of his neck affectionately.

  “You okay? You look like you’re trying to choke someone.” She’s right, I realize, as I notice my fists wringing the dish cloth in my hand like it’s a neck. It is someone’s neck right about now. Bella’s …

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I toss the cloth down and hazard one more peek at Trent, the same second his gorgeous blue eyes dart back to touch mine. I jump. He gives me that teasing smile that peels away my defenses, leaving me as naked as the dancers on stage. Why does he affect me so? It’s unnerving!

  “Uh, that’s not ‘nothing,’ Kacey. Are you looking at that guy? Who is that?” She leans over my shoulder to catch my line of sight. “Isn’t that—”

  My hand goes up to gently shove her face back. “Turnaround! Now he knows we’re talking about him.”

  Storm doubles over, laughing. “Kacey’s got a crush,” she sings. “Our neighbor’s eye-humping you. Go and talk to him.”

  “No!” I growl back, throwing my best set of icy eye daggers at her.

  She ducks her head and busies herself by clearing glasses off the bar. I can tell she’s stung by the venom in my tone. Guilt instantly swells inside me. Dammit, Storm!

  I struggle to ignore Trent’s table, but it’s like passing a train wreck. It’s impossible not to look. By the end of the night, I’m exhausted and annoyed by the seismic waves of jealousy crashing into me as the parade of strippers visit his table, touching him, giggling, one of them sliding up onto his lap to talk. My only relief comes from the fact that Trent politely declines them all.

  ***

  Reaching into her purse that sits between us in the console, Storm tosses a thick envelope on my lap.

  Without much thought, I tear it open and flip through the bills. “Holy shit! There’s got to be, like …”

  “I told you so!” She sings, adding with a wink, “now imagine what you’d make if you got up on stage.”

  There had to be five hundred dollars in here! Easy! “You’ve been working at Penny’s for … four years you said? Why are you still on Jackson Drive? You could have bought a house!”

  She sighs. “I was married for a year to Mia’s father. I had to claim bankruptcy after I left him because he racked up so much debt. No bank’s going to give me a mortgage now.”

  “He sounds like a real … jackhole.” I shift in my seat, uncomfortable for more than the fact that we’re in her Jeep. Storm is getting into her private life and my defenses naturally go up. When people share, they expect you to reciprocate.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” she murmurs, her voice drifting off. “It wasn’t so bad in the beginning. I was sixteen when I met Damon. I got pregnant and he got into drugs. We needed money bad so I started working for Cain after Mia was born. Damon said I had to get these if I wanted to make any real money,” she gestures at her breasts. “Of course I was stupid enough to agree.” A rare spike of bitterness laces her words. “It hurt like hell. That’s the only reason I haven’t gone back to get them reduced. I swear, the thing girls will do when they’re blind to love.”

  “So when did you finally decide to leave him?” I ask before I can stop myself.

  “The second time he kicked the crap out of me.”

  She says it so matter of fact that I’m sure I misheard her. “Oh … I’m sorry, Storm.” And I am. The idea of someone hitting Storm instantly gets my hackles raised.

  “The first time, I lied to everyone. Told them I ran into a wall.” She snorts. “They didn’t buy it, but they let me live in my little delusion. But the second time …” She exhales heavily. “I came in to work with a fat lip and a bloody nose. Cain and Nate drove me right back home and stood over me while I packed Mia’s and my things. Damon came in as we were walking out the door. Nate roughed him up a bit. Warned him if he ever comes near me or Mia again, he’ll be peeing through a straw. And you’ve seen Nate.” Storm gives me a wide-eyed look. “He can do it.” She pulls into her parking spot outside our building and shuts the Jeep off.

  “Cain set me up with the apartment and I’ve been here ever since, hoarding all my money until I have enough to buy a house with cash. If all goes well, I’ll be out of the club scene for good in another two or three years.” She adds softly, “and my parents don’t have to be ashamed of me anymore.”

  I snort. “Tell me about it. My parents would be rolling in their graves if they knew where I’m working …” My voice drifts off into an awkward silence, mentally chastising myself for bringing them up.

  “Hey, Kacey?” There’s that cautious, nervous Storm voice again and my shoulders tense. I know exactly where this is going. “Look, I’ve pieced together a few things—your parents are dead, I think it has something to do with alcohol ... you have a lot of scars. You don’t like people touching your hands …”

  I don’t let her finish. I open the door and rush out.

  I decide that Storm is brilliant. A regular fucking rocket scientist.

  Chapter Five

  “Air conditioning!” I moan, peeling my sheets from my sweaty body. We need real friggin’ curtains, I think to myself, as I glare at the airy scraps hanging in front of the window. They do nothing to stop the sun from beating in. We haven’t had air conditioning since before my parents died. Aunt Darla didn’t believe in paying for cool air when there are starving kids in the world. Or husbands with gambling problems. Now that we live in Miami, I don’t know how it’s not illegal.

  Livie and Mia are in the kitchen, humming ‘pop goes the weasel’ as they e
mpty a brown bags’ worth of groceries. “Good afternoon!” Livie sings when she sees me.

  “Good afternoon!” Mia echoes.

  I check the clock. Almost one. They’re right. It is afternoon. I haven’t slept in that late in forever.

  “I picked up food. There’s money on the counter there.” Livie’s chin directs me to a small pile of bills. “I had to argue Storm down to half of what she wanted to pay me.”

  I smile. Storm swears she’s found her angels. I’m sure that we’ve found ours. I need to cut my bullshit with her, I decide, then and there. I don’t know how, but I need to. Strolling over to grab the money from my purse, I slap the thick envelope onto the table. “Bam! Take that!”

  “Holy Sh …” Livie’s wide eyes pass from the stack of money to Mia’s curious face “… shnikies! You just served drinks … right?”

  So Livie figured it out on her own. I cock my head and narrow my eyes, pausing for effect as if I'm in deep thought. “Define serving drinks.” I chuckle as I pull out the OJ from the fridge and chug straight from the bottle, feeling her glower at my back. “I’m kidding! Yes, just drinks. And an ass sandwich for one lucky grabber.” Mia’s brows spike and I wince, mouthing “sorry” to a scowling Livie. It’s quickly forgotten though as she flips through the wad of money with her thumb. “Holy cow.”

  “I know, right?” I know I have a stupid grin on my face and I don’t care. This might work. We might survive. We might not have to eat cat food.

  Livie looks up with a secretive smile.

  “What?”

  She pauses, then, “Nothing I just … you’re giddy.” She bites into a baby carrot. “It’s nice.”

  Mia mimics her, scrunching her nose like a rabbit as she chews. “It’s nice,” she parrots.

  I steal one from the bag, smash a giant kiss on Livie’s cheek, and then swagger toward the bathroom.

  “I’ll be in the shower while you count all our money. And remind me to phone Starbucks and quit, okay?” There’s no way I’m going back to minimum wage. No way in Hell.

  ***

  I don’t care that there’s no pressure. I don’t care that the water has a funky chlorinated scent to it. I simply close my eyes and massage a thick layer of shampoo into my scalp, inhaling its rosy fragrance. For the first time since stealing off into the night with Livie, I think I can do this. I can take care of us. I’m old enough, strong enough, smart enough. My issues won’t hold us back. Everything will be alright. We’ll come out of it clean and strong and …

  An odd soft rattling sound pulls me from my revelry. Cracking a lid, I spot red, black, and white stripes coiled around the pipe above the shower head. Two beady little eyes stare intently at me.

  It takes a whole second for me to scream. Once I do, I can’t stop. Scrambling backward to slam against the opposite wall, I don’t know how I manage to stay upright, but I do. The snake doesn’t move. It sits in the exact same spot, shaking its tail and staring at me. Like its deciding how it’ll fit its jaws around my head to swallow me whole. I continue shrieking as I hear Livie’s panicked voice behind the door, but it doesn’t register. Her pounding doesn’t register.

  Nothing registers.

  Suddenly there’s a loud crack and sound of wood splintering. “Kacey!” Livie shrieks as a set of strong arms swoop in to pull me out. A towel quickly lands on me and I’m being whisked out of the bathroom and into my bedroom.

  “I hate snakes. I hate snakes. Fuck! I hate snakes!” I repeat over and over again to no one and everyone. A hand smooths my hair. Not until my heart rate slows to a semi-normal range and I stop shaking am I able to focus on my surroundings.

  On Trent’s furrowed brow and the flecks of turquoise in his irises.

  I’m in his arms.

  Naked and sitting on Trent’s lap, in his arms.

  My heart rate ramps back up to a dangerous level as I appreciate this new situation. His shirt is soaked and covered in my shampoo. I can feel the warm skin of his forearms against my bare back and under my knees as he holds me tight to him. All vital body parts are completely covered from view with a towel, but I can’t be any more naked than I am at that moment.

  Livie storms in, eyes blazing. “Who do you think you are, barging in here?” she screams, her face as red as my hair, looking ready to claw Trent’s face off.

  “Trent. This is Trent.” I answer. “It’s okay, Livie. There’s … there’s a rattlesnake in the shower.” I shudder involuntarily. “Get Mia out of here before it eats her. And get Tanner here. Now Livie!”

  Livie’s attention passes from me to Trent and back to me, drifting down to my bed. She doesn’t want to leave me, I can see that. But finally she decides something and nods. She closes the door behind her.

  Trent pulls me tight against him until I feel his chest’s hard ridges pressed against my arm. “You okay?” he whispers, his mouth so close that his bottom lip grazes my ear. I shudder again.

  “I’m fantastic,” I whisper, adding, “aside from almost dying.”

  “I heard you screaming from next door. I thought someone was killing you.”

  “Not someone. Something! Did you see it?” One arm flies out, gesturing toward the bathroom, while the other fusses to keep my towel up to cover my breasts. “I was two seconds away from behind eaten alive!”

  Now Trent starts to chuckle—a soft, beautiful sound that vibrates through my body and warms my core. “I think that’s Lenny. 2B’s pet snake. I saw a little bald man checking the bushes in the commons this morning, calling its name.”

  “Pet?” I spit out the word as I sit up straight. “That man eater is someone’s pet? Isn’t there a law against owning rattlers?”

  Trent’s blue eyes roam my face as he smirks, settling on my lips. “It’s a milk snake. From what I know, the only thing it’s going to eat is a mouse.” He’s so close to me now that his breath caresses my cheek. With my body pressed to him, I feel his heart beat hammering fast against my shoulder, rivaling my own. He can feel this too. It’s not just me. He lifts a hand to cup my chin. “No one’s going to hurt you, Kacey.”

  I don’t know if it’s the stress of the situation, or this sizzling burn inside my belly that flares whenever Trent’s around, or an uncontainable internal beast repressed for too long, but this whole situation has gone from terrifying to freaking hot in a split second.

  I can't help myself.

  I crash into Trent’s mouth, my hand fisting the front of his shirt, snapping several buttons with no effort as I force myself onto him. There’s a second of resistance—just a second where his mouth and body doesn’t respond—but it quickly dissolves. His arm slides out from my knees to grip my side, scorching my bare skin. It’s him that deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue into my mouth, one hand working its way through my shampoo-coated hair, gripping a handful at the nap of my neck tightly. He forces my head back as his tongue connects with mine, his mouth sweet and fresh. He’s strong, that much I can sense. If I wanted to, I don’t think I could fight him off. But I don’t want to. Not one bit.

  Without breaking his connection to my mouth, Trent somehow shifts me onto my back and now he’s hovering over me on my bed, our torsos flattened against each other, my inner thighs hugging his hips while his forearms keep his full weight off my body. I don’t know what’s happening, what I’m doing, what has taken over all rational thought, but I know I don’t want it to stop. Every fiber of my body is craving it.

  Craving Trent.

  I feel like I’ve come up for my first gasp of air after being under water for years.

  Unfortunately, it does stop. Abruptly. He breaks free and pulls away, panting as he gazes down at me with an incredulous look. His eyes never leave mine, not to wander for even a second. If they did, he'd see that my towel has slid off and I’m lying underneath him, stark naked. Body and soul.

  “This isn’t why I pulled you out of the shower,” he whispers.

  I swallow, searching for my voice. The one I find is hoarse. “No, but i
t’s worked out rather well for you, hasn’t it?”

  He gives me that lop-sided smile that makes my body heat up like someone’s taken a blowtorch to it. But then his eyes cool, searching my face. “Isn’t it exhausting?” The pad of his thumb strokes my neck softly.

  “What?”

  “Keeping people out.”

  “I’m not,” I deny quickly, my voice faltering in betrayal as his words punch me in the gut. How can he see what I don’t want him to see, what I work so hard to conceal? He’s found a way in, that’s how. Like a trespasser, he’s invaded my space, breaching security and sliding in to take what I haven’t offered to him.

  The fire he’s able to elicit in my body so easily still burns, only now I find the need to battle against the consuming flames. “I don’t want this. I don’t want you.” The words taste acrid in my mouth because I know I don’t mean them. I do want this. I do want you, Trent.

  Trent crashes in to my mouth, and my treacherous body leans forward, exposing me for the liar that I am. But he keeps his hands on either side of my head now, clenching my pillow tightly as if he’s trying to maintain control. I, on the other hand, have lost all control, I realize, as my fingers slide under his shirt to claw at his back, as my legs wrap around him.

  “You don’t want this, Kacey?” he growls in my ear, pressing his erection against me.

  “No …” I whisper, my lips trailing his neck. Then I begin to laugh at myself, at my stubbornness. At how ridiculous I must look right now, my body writhing against his. That little bit of laugher is like a lifeline thrown out to me. I seize it and let it drag me back from the brink. Tearing my mouth from his neck, I growl, “Get out.”

  He lays three more light kisses on my jawline and then softly grazes my cheek with his knuckles. “Okay, Kacey.” He climbs off me and stands. I inhale sharply as his eyes draw in the length of my body with a hungry, dark look. It only lasts a second, but it unleashes a need deep in my lower belly. He turns around and heads to the door. “I’ll take the heat for the doors from Tanner.”