by K B Cinder
There were also endless comments online. Ones I couldn’t resist looking at, with nothing to do after pacing and watching television got old. Most were harmless. But a few slipped through the cracks that took my breath away. Ones that would vanish just as quickly.
Die bitch.
Can’t wait to slit her throat. Wonder if they’ll still be smiling when she’s dead?
How much if I take ‘em both out?
I’d seen horrible comments before, but nothing like the hatred that came in waves before disappearing in the tide. People wanted to hurt me - to kill me - for allegedly knowing someone.
At first I tried to tune them out, but in time, they were louder than the doubts about Ethan. The hole in my heart was joined by worry. Worry that turned to fear. Not for me. But for Ethan.
I was safe, locked away in a prison in the sky. Even if one of them knew where to find me, they’d have to get through steel barriers and armed men to touch a hair on my head.
But Ethan?
There was no telling where he was.
* * *
“And then I told him he can eat my ass if he’s looking for something juicy!”
I doubled over in laughter at Lil’s profanity-laced play-by-play of blasting yet another reporter that dared to knock on her door and interrupt her soaps.
“Who the hell do they think they are? He was banging on my door like he owned the place! I said, ‘honey, did you pay for that door? No? Then I suggest you keep those grubby paws off it!’ Pests! All of them!”
I wiped tears from beneath my eyes, not doubting for one moment that Lil let the unsuspecting paparazzo have it. “Did you answer in true fine-wine fashion?” I could only imagine what the guy was thinking when he was met with a smoking hot granny.
“Of course!” She rolled her eyes, the makeup surrounding them on point, as usual, as she sat with Stanley in her bed, already dressed in her negligee for the night. “I’m hoping to score some cuties off all this nonsense. I’ve been sleeping in makeup for crying out loud.”
I smiled, so ready to be home and sipping wine with her in my living room again. Life wasn’t quite the same without my daily dose of Lil. “Meet anyone?”
She scoffed, painted lips stretching to a sneer. “No one with a brain! All those morons think Ethan is Ever! I’m not letting any man that dumb play with my cat!”
My sides hurt from laughing already, but I couldn’t keep them at bay as more came sputtering out. God, I loved her. One day I hoped to be half the woman she was, unabashed and honest to the core.
“So when is that walking fantasy letting you out of his playpen? He should share! I have needs, too!”
“He’s not playing with me, either,” I grumbled, drawing squiggles in the fabric of the couch cushion with my fingertips. “I’m wasting away like an unwatered houseplant.”
She waved a finger and almost dropped her phone, chandelier earrings dancing as she bobbed her head side to side. “Oh, hell no! Who does he think he’s playing with? He needs to get my girl wet to keep her alive!”
He had no trouble getting me wet. Not that she would ever know that. She was still reeling that I hadn’t told her about our night out at the Lorelei event. If she found out we bumped uglies - not once, but twice - she’d freak out. She’d demand details, too.
“Where is he, anyway? This whole thing is weird!” she squawked with a shake of her head. “How’s he going to fly off like some kind of chicken-shit and leave you in his henhouse?”
“I have no idea,” I replied, just as lost as she was. All I knew was that I was granted a one-month leave of absence from work and that Lil received the next two months of my rent in cash. She hadn’t deposited it at my request, next month’s payment not due for a few more weeks. I’d pay it from savings before letting anyone cover it. “But how are you feeling? How’s Stanley?”
I never thought I’d see the day that I’d miss the ankle-biting demon, but I couldn’t wait to squeeze the little squish again. Even if he tried to take a chunk out of me in the process.
“Stanley is living the dream while I’ve had heartburn all day,” she grumbled, reaching up to fluff her hair, blonde locks shiny in the light. “Don’t eat at the deli down the street. Their antipasto is to die for, but I’ve been paying for it. I might as well sprout wings and fly because I’ve been breathing fire like a dragon.”
“I have antacids in my medicine cabinet,” I offered.
“They’re probably expired like those condoms Jorge found!” she jabbed with a smile, still teasing her hair high. “What were they? Two years past the date?”
Ugh. I’d never live the flimsy, water-damaged box down, one I had tucked away in my bathroom until Jorge stuck flowers in it like a vase on my coffee table. The same box I’d plucked exactly two condoms from since buying it my freshman year of college. One for my first, Kyle, an overly-eager ball of nerves, and the other for Ryan, an ex whose cologne had lasted longer than our relationship.
The memory slapped me in the face with a pesky fact I’d been avoiding acknowledging. One that could spell more disaster than any stupid news story.
Not only had I had sex with Ethan twice.
But I’d done so unprotected.
Keely
I rose before the sun on the twentieth day in the penthouse, determined to get out. I felt like I was serving a sentence I didn’t deserve, two guards posted outside the front door at all times.
Like good caretakers, they brought me whatever I needed, whether it was a candy bar or shampoo when I got tired of smelling like a man. I even had them bring me a box of tampons so I was ready for Mother Nature when she came knocking. And they did it all without batting an eyelash. But they were still armed guards, pistols locked and loaded, barring me from the world.
There were only so many things to do. I’d swam naked in the stupid lap pool, rolled around naked in his big, stupid bed, and sent Ethan naked pictures in every stupid room of his house. They were silly acts of defiance, but I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.
As I watched the sun rise over the water, I thought of Lil, deciding it was time to harness some of her mojo and face the world. I couldn’t stay locked away forever. Besides, venturing out might get Ethan’s attention. Maybe he’d finally come home and face me.
I fastened my hair in a low ponytail, swiping a ball cap from Ethan’s closet and one of his tees, the fabric gobbling me up. Paired with my jeans and sneakers, I was good to go.
I stepped out the front door, the taller guard on duty surprised to see me. I called him Gumby because of his asymmetrical buzzcut, one side fading lower than the other. I went to walk by him, but he held out a massive hand, the limb stopping me in my tracks as it brushed against my belly.
Crap. I wasn’t free to leave. I hadn’t tried to in the height of the craziness, but I’d secretly hoped the men were meant to protect me - not imprison me.
I glanced up at him, knowing he could throw me back inside with a pinky. His biceps alone were bigger than one of my thighs.
Instead of flicking me back into the penthouse like a paper football, he grunted, “Where?”
For real? I was free to go?
I racked my brain, deciding to harness some of Lil’s mojo in person. She took Stanley for his first walk at six each morning, so I knew she’d be up. “I’m going to go to my friend’s house for breakfast.”
“We drive you.”
I wanted to argue at his caveman response, but one hard look from Gumby had me nodding my head like a bobblehead doll. Standing at least six-foot-eight, he could snap me like a twig without breaking a sweat. Besides, I was desperate to get out, and if that meant letting them drive, I would.
The undead-looking guard I called Mortimer drove, while Gumby sat with me in the back, the gun holster around his thigh looking like a regular man’s belt, his leg more like a tree trunk than a limb. He kept another under his jacket, the cross-body holster visible when he climbed in the car behind me.
The five-mile
drive that usually took fifteen minutes only took ten, Mortimer more of a madman behind the wheel than any taxi driver. He took a few tight turns that made Gumby grunt in displeasure, but we arrived in one piece in front of the brownstone.
As I hopped out, Gumby went to join me, but I spun to face him, just inches from his chest. “Please,” I begged, wanting time alone with Lil. I needed to speak frankly with her about Ethan and I. I needed her advice more than ever.
Gumby stepped forward anyway, looming above with every inch of his massive frame, the brim of Ethan’s hat skimming his jacket while I held my ground. My knees might have been shaking, but I didn’t budge, dang it. I was safe. I knew he’d squash any hint of danger before it touched a hair on my head.
“I won’t run,” I promised. “I just want to have girl talk. You know? Gossip about boys and penises. I’ll be back before you know it.”
He frowned as he looked between me and the brownstone, his heavy brows furrowing at the barely thirty-foot distance. “Ten minutes.”
“Thank you.” My phone said it was six-thirty when we parked, so I knew Lil was already home, likely halfway through her usual English muffin with raspberry jam, while Stanley wolfed down the bacon and eggs she prepared for him every morning.
With fall in the air, she had potted mums dotting the stoop, alternating between orange and yellow with each step. Her pumpkin flag was already waving, a scarecrow doll standing beside the door as I rang the doorbell.
Stanley greeted me on the other side of the door with his trademark yapping, but unlike other times, Lil wasn’t right behind him or hushing him from another room. I waited, figuring she was in the bathroom, before I realized I was standing there while only hearing Stanley bark. Even if she was in the bathroom, I would have heard her squawking.
Sorry. It’s me. I was hoping to surprise you.
I sent the text as I waited a little longer before worry had me scrambling for the spare key tucked behind a loose brick. I was inside less than a minute later, Stanley growling like something fierce as I entered.
“Knock it off!” I snapped as he went for my ankle, the toothed demon surprisingly falling silent for a change.
The smell hit me then, a putrid stench of overall funk. I looked to the front parlor, the same room Lil and I regularly sipped wine in, the walnut floor dotted with piles of poop and puddles of piddle.
What the hell? Stanley never had accidents.
Panic set in, and I found myself running to the kitchen, fearing the worst. “Lil? Lil, are you okay?” Had she fallen? Was she sick?
But the kitchen was empty, and the house was quiet overall, Stanley following but not barking as usual. Had she gone out? Maybe Stanley had a sour stomach and couldn’t hold it.
“Lil? Are you home?” I headed into the living room, finding it barren as well, before I ventured toward the office she’d converted to her bedroom. I didn’t blame her either, the stairs to the second floor so steep I felt like I was leaning backward while climbing them.
I knocked, not wanting to catch her and a man in the act, but there was no response. “Lil? Are you in there?”
Nothing.
I turned the handle and stepped inside, flicking the light on to see a lump in the bed, Lil fast asleep beneath her silk bedding.
Good God. I was going to give her an earful for scaring me. She needed to stop sleeping in earplugs. What if there was a fire?
“Lil!” I called, clapping my hands. “Rise and shine, princess!”
Nothing.
I walked over to her side of the bed, saying a silent prayer she was clothed before ripping back the covers. “Rise and..!”
I froze, the scream itching my throat trapped.
Lil wasn’t sleeping. She was dead.
I’d never seen a dead body, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out she was long gone. She looked at peace lying there nestled on her side, a slight smile on her face. Except half of it was bluish purple, the side laying against the mattress discolored from head to toe.
It was then that I found my voice, screaming bloody murder as I took a horrified step back, Stanley running to my side and joining me with a howl. A moment later, Gumby was there, and not even a second later, he had me pulled to his chest, hat popping off my head in the frenzy as he relayed the scene over a radio and shook away Stanley who was nipping at his boot.
I should have come sooner. Why did I wait? What if I’d been there when she needed me?
“The police are coming,” Gumby said a few heartbeats later, as he rubbed a hand along my back, my hot, angry tears soaking his jacket. “Does she have family?”
“A son,” I replied, shoulders shaking with a sob. “A rotten bastard of a son.”
A rotten bastard of a son who showed up an hour later in a wrinkled suit and scuffed loafers. Gumby and I stayed outside with Stanley while he went over the particulars with the police and coroner, walking around the home like he was there all the time. Like he was a model son that gave a rat’s ass about his mother.
According to the first responders, Lil likely passed a day or so earlier in her sleep, most likely from a heart attack. I thought back to our video call days earlier, remembering the heartburn she’d complained about, but both paramedics brushed off the observation. She was old. It was her time.
But it wasn’t.
Lil had more life in her than anyone I knew.
Her son, Gordon, emerged some time later, stomping down the stoop with his arms swinging. “Do you know where she keeps, well, kept, the rat’s leash?” he asked when he reached us at the bottom, a loafer kicking over a potted mum on the final step.
I pulled Stanley close to my chest, the little meatball shaking. For once, he wasn’t trying to eat me. “Where are you taking him?”
Stanley was more like a son to Lil than Gordon ever was. I wouldn’t let him touch him.
“The pound. It’s about time that thing was put down. I’ve been telling her for years he had to go.”
“That’s not necessary. I’ll keep him.” I’d never owned a dog before, but how hard could it be? I’d figure it out. I’d be doing a lot of that in the near future anyway. Might as well throw dog ownership on top of the pile.
“You want that rat?” he scoffed. “Go for it.”
“His name is Stanley.” He might have been a pain in the ass, but he wasn’t a thing. He was a scared little dog whose whole world was gone.
Gordon ignored me, eyeing the stairs down to my apartment in the distance. “How soon can you be out?”
I wanted to push him down them at that moment. Maybe it would knock some manners into him. “Excuse me?”
“Of the apartment. You rent it still, I assume?”
I was surprised he remembered, let alone recognized me. I’d met him two times since meeting Lil. Two times too many. And while it upset Lil to no end that he never visited, I actually preferred he stay away. Both times he’d visited, he’d done nothing but insult her.
“My lease is up at the end of the year.” I stroked Stanley’s fur, knowing I’d have to start looking for dog-friendly apartments. Ones that didn’t mind me owning a dog with a bite history a mile long. Finding something in my budget would be tough. Hopefully three months would be enough time.
He sighed, stuffing his sausage fingers in his suit pockets. “Well, make it month’s end. This shithole will be on the market October first.”
Shithole? Lil’s house was the nicest house on the block. “What? You can’t…”
He assessed me with a laugh before turning to stomp back up the stoop stairs. “I can, I will, and I just did.”
Ethan
I planned to stay in London longer, but when the detail called with the horrible news, I hopped on the next available flight to Boston.
I landed as night fell on the city and headed straight to the penthouse, waving off the guards who were surprised to see me. When I opened my front door, a four-legged monster came charging at me unexpectedly, Stanley headed straight for my ankle w
ith teeth bared, barking like hell.
“Sit, Satan!” I shouted, the ferocious fatty stopping at the last second to flop into a half-assed sit.
Kee darted into the entryway at my voice, her eyes bloodshot and swollen. Swimming in a pair of my sweat pants and a t-shirt, she looked impossibly small and broken, what little strength she had left splintering as she ran into me.
I caught her, staggering backward to brace myself on the wall, her body quaking in my arms, torrential sobs ripping through. Awful, haunting cries. All I could do was hold on, serving as her legs when hers gave out, supporting her when the world was too heavy to bear.
“I’m so sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say. Lil was more than a friend to her. She was a surrogate mom. A confidant. And now she was gone.
I knew the depths of the pain, the loss of Nan and Pop taking pieces of me into the dark with them. Even my mother’s death did, in a way, regardless of how flawed she was. I wanted to take the ache away, to heal the hole in her heart. But I knew nothing would.
Tears threatened my eyes, unable to picture a world without Lil. She was a larger than life personality, a constant fixture in our lives, whether she was strutting her stuff in her latest leather find or gushing about the men downtown. She was a daily reminder to live life to the fullest without fear.
We stayed locked in the embrace until Kee had no tears left to cry, her body limp in my arms, the last of the sobs leaving her weary.
I carried her to the bedroom and soothed her to sleep, nightmares waking her every so often. When she’d stir, I’d smooth her hair and hold her close, offering what support I could as she battled the sleep demons.
Morning brought the funeral, Lil’s final wishes returning her to the Earth within a day. Kee and I went together, the bodyguards maintaining their distance while we paid our respects.
Kee was the strong one then, greeting Lil’s bastard of a son with a grace I couldn’t muster, giving the waste of sperm a comforting hug and kind words he didn’t deserve. But that was Kee. Kind to a fault. Sweet as could be. Tougher than I gave her credit for.
