Desperate Measures

by Elle Casey

  “What the … Aimee!” shouted Jack, from the side of the house. They’d been spotted.

  “Elizabeth, get to your car and haul ass outta here! When you’re far enough away, call us!” yelled Kiki.

  Elizabeth wasted no time, sprinting over to her car and jumping in. Kiki heard the engine start as she and Aimee scrambled to get into the Camaro.

  “What are you going to do?” screeched a panicked Aimee. “His car is in the way!!” She turned to look out the windshield and screamed bloody murder.

  Kiki looked up in time to see Jack coming at them at a jog from the side of the house, bad intentions written all over his face.

  “What the fuck are you doing breaking into my house, you whore?!” he yelled, spittle flying out of his mouth and his face beet red.

  Kiki started the engine and threw the car into drive.

  “Jack! Stay away!” screamed Aimee. “Stay away from me!”

  He got near the front of the car, and stood there for a couple seconds, fuming, his clenched teeth making his jaw stand out, his eyes narrowed in a vicious look that made shivers go up Kiki’s spine. He’s mad enough to kill.

  Kiki took a deep calming breath and stared him down, challenging him with her eyes. “Go ahead, ass wipe. Make my day,” she said in a conversational tone, squeezing the wheel over and over, waiting for him to make his move.

  He slammed his fists down on the hood.

  “Don’t fucking hit my car, asshole,” said Kiki loudly. The fear flew out of her heart to be replaced by indignation. No one touched her car like that. No one.

  “Oh yeah, bitch? What are you going to do about it?” He hit her car again. Only harder.

  “Well this, for one,” she said in a low, menacing tone.

  “Kiiiikiiiiii,” whined Aimee. “What are you doooinnnggg?”

  Kiki put one foot on the brake and one on the gas. She pushed the brake down with her left and pushed on the accelerator a bit with her right, revving the engine and causing the car to surge up in the back and bounce a little, making it look as if it were going to leap forward and run him over.

  Jack jumped back. “You crazy bitch! What are you going to do? Run me over? I’m calling the cops. That’s assault.” He pointed his finger at her sharply.

  “Kiki, don’t run him over! I don’t want you to go to jail!” begged Aimee.

  Kiki didn’t take her eyes from Jack for a second. “Shush, would ya? I have a plan.” Then she started talking softly again, as if to herself. “That’s right, little bastard. Come on over here to the side of the car. Here … I’ll roll my window down and give you a nice target. You look like the type to hit a woman.”

  She kept her right hand on the wheel and slowly cranked her window down, making sure he’d see that her face was now exposed. She yelled out to Jack, “Get out of the way or I’m going to run your small dick over!”

  He took the bait, running over to the side of the car as he roared, intending to attack Kiki. But she was waiting for him. Aimee screamed like a wild woman, coming completely unglued at the idea of Jack getting to her friend, but Kiki didn’t have time to explain what she was going to do. She whipped the wheel to the left at the same time she slammed her foot down on the accelerator, a split second later letting up off the brake.

  The Camaro’s rear wheels spun out, sending small rocks and debris up behind them to pelt Jack’s car, making a sound like a miniature machine gun. The back end of the rear-wheel drive vehicle spun out to the right, swinging the car around until its front end was pointing toward Aimee’s lawn. As soon as Kiki let up off the accelerator just a bit, the tires grabbed and propelled the car forward, narrowly missing Jack, but at the same time making it impossible for him to reach Kiki’s open window before she and Aimee were shooting out across the front lawn.

  “Hold on!” Kiki yelled, spinning the car to the left again, leaving a big skid mark in the grass as she got the car pointed out toward the road.

  Aimee screamed and grabbed onto the dashboard with one hand and the oh-shit handle with the other. The car continued, careening forward and running over landscaping rocks and the curb before bouncing back onto the street and zooming over to the other side. Kiki jerked the wheel one more time to the left, getting the car under control, and headed out of the neighborhood.

  Once the car stopped rocking and Kiki was able to convince her brain to let her foot off the gas, they found themselves three blocks away, the engine humming along quietly as if they hadn’t just totally pulled a page out of the Dukes of Hazzard playbook to escape the clutches of Aimee’s crazy almost-ex-husband.

  Aimee slowly peeled her hand off the dashboard and released the vinyl loop by the window. She dropped her face into her hands, her shoulders quaking. Kiki looked over at her nervously, feeling terrible.

  “Aimee, hon, I’m sorry. I know I scared the shit out of you back there. I’m sorry about the grass, too. I’ll pay for it. I didn’t mean to get you in any trouble.”

  Kiki was shocked to hear laughter as a response.

  Aimee pulled her hands away from her face, and Kiki was able to see for the first time that Aimee wasn’t upset. She was laughing her butt off.

  Kiki felt her own smile starting to come, unbidden, reveling in the joy she saw on her friend’s face.

  “That! Was the most. Amazing thing. I have ever seen a woman do. In my entire life!”

  Kiki felt her heart fill with pride. “Yeah. It was pretty friggin’ awesome, wasn’t it?”

  “Holy cannolis. Let’s do it again!” She bounced up and down on the seat, clapping her hands. “Do it again! Make Jack pee his pants again!”

  Her enthusiasm was infectious. Kiki would never go looking for trouble like that, but she glanced up in her rearview mirror, just playfully acting as if she were going to turn around and go back for more. Unfortunately, the hilarity of the moment ended in a flash, the moment she noticed the tiny red dot behind them getting closer and bigger.

  “Oh, hell,” said Kiki, pressing on the accelerator.

  “What?” asked Aimee, a big grin still on her face. “Are we out of gas or something?” She looked at Kiki’s gauges curiously.

  “No. We have company. Behind us.”

  Aimee turned around, and her smile disappeared instantly. “Oh, shoot. What are we going to do?” she asked, the panic creeping back into her voice.

  “You are going to call Joe. Right now!”

  “Okay, okay!” said Aimee, scrambling for her purse and phone. A few seconds later, Kiki heard Aimee’s voice. “Um … hello? Joe? … Yeah, hi. This is Aimee. I’m not sure if you remember me but … oh you do? Oh … that’s so sweet!”

  “Aimee! Kind of urgent here!”

  “Oh, shoot, yeah, Joe, I hate to do this on our first call, but I really, really need your help. Well, actually, my ex-husband is following my friend Kiki and me in his car, and well, he’s super angry right now. I’m afraid he’s going to try and hurt her or me or both of us. I don’t know … yeah, we’re um … hold on a second.” She looked at the passing street signs and then at Kiki. “Where are we?”

  “Tell him we’re about a mile north of that donut place near Maggie’s. He’ll know what I’m talking about.” Kiki was in the neighborhood near Lola’s now. She knew this area well and felt confident that she could stay one step ahead of Jack here, at least for a little while.

  Aimee repeated the location to Joe and then said, “Hold on, I’ll ask.” She turned to Kiki. “Are we going north or south?”

  “South.”

  “We’re going south.” Aimee nodded her head a few times and then said, “He said to keep going south slowly and he’ll catch up. He’s not far.”

  “Tell him he’s got five minutes, max.”

  Aimee relayed the information and stayed on the phone with Joe while Kiki concentrated on not getting stuck in front of Jack at any stoplights. She had to run two yellows to make sure that didn’t happen, and for the first time in her life was very upset that there were no cops a
round to pull her over for doing it. It was the longest five minutes of her life before she saw those red and blue lights in her rearview mirror.

  “Oh, thank God,” said Kiki, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Joe’s back there.” Kiki watched as Jack slowed down and pulled to the side of the road, the police car directly behind him. Kiki kept driving, listening in on Aimee’s conversation.

  “Yes. The red Aston Martin. That’s Jack, my ex-husband. He tried to attack Kiki at my house when we were getting some of my things out, and then he chased us.” She was silent for a few seconds.

  Kiki glanced over in time to see a sweet smile creep onto her friend’s face.

  “Okay. I can do that. Alright. I’ll talk to you later, then.” She pulled the phone away from her face and put it in her lap, pressing the red button with her thumb and sighing as she stared out the windshield.

  “What? What’d he say?” asked Kiki. It sounded like something good, and she knew Aimee could use some good news for a change.

  “He wants to meet me after his shift. He’s going to give Jack a ticket for speeding. He said that will give us enough time to get out of the area.”

  “Wow. Talk about a prince charming. I think you found yourself a good one, there, Aims.”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure if I’m ready to date.”

  “Why not?”

  Aimee shrugged her shoulders and said nothing. Her phone rang in her lap. “It’s Elizabeth.” She pushed the green button. “Hello, Lizzie.” She rolled her eyes. “Okay, Elizabeth. Do you want to meet us at Kiki’s?” She paused and then gave her the directions, finishing with, “See you there in ten.”

  “When was the last time you had sex?” asked Kiki when Aimee hung up the phone.

  “What?!” said Aimee, half laughing and half sputtering.

  “I’m serious. You said you weren’t ready to date, so I guess that means you and Jack were close and you’re not ready to let him go.”

  “Pfft. Right. I think it’s been … six months? Maybe longer?”

  “Oooh, ouch. That sucks.”

  “Not really. He wasn’t very good at it.”

  Kiki smiled. “Oh, that’s right. Okay, so if you’re not pining for Jack, why not? You’re single. Joe’s single, I assume. He’s hot. He’s at your beck and call when lunatics are after you.” She looked over to make sure Aimee was paying attention and to see her reaction before she continued. “Plus he has those big, veiny hands you like so much.”

  Aimee reached over and smacked her lightly. “Stop. You’re embarrassing me.”

  “Please. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re talking to a stripper here.”

  Aimee smiled. “You weren’t a stripper, first of all. You were an exotic dancer. And you’re not one anymore. And how exactly is that supposed to keep me from being embarrassed?”

  Kiki shrugged. “I’m not sure. It just sounded good at the time.”

  Aimee laughed. “Oh, Kiki. You’re a real hoot, you know that?”

  “Yeah. I’m a hoot,” she agreed, thinking the exact same thing about Aimee. Wait until Elizabeth hears about what she missed.

  Chapter 24

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE I MISSED all that. You guys have all the fun,” said Elizabeth.

  “I wouldn’t call it fun,” said Aimee. “More like heart-attack-inducing.”

  “We’re just lucky Officer Hotstuff was working nearby.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “Sounds romantic to me. Like your knight in shining armor came galloping up to save the day.”

  “Shush. You guys are goofy,” said Aimee, trying not to smile but failing, her face going pink.

  “Alright, girls, let’s get these binders into the house,” said Kiki. “I don’t want to leave them in my car, even though Marcus wants them tomorrow.”

  “Then we can go to the gym, right? I have to work off this nervous energy. I feel like I’ve had four cups of coffee,” said Aimee.

  “Adrenaline rush,” said Elizabeth, grabbing an armload of binders. “Gotta love the ex-husband hot pursuit.”

  “Or not,” said Kiki, opening the door leading into the townhouse from the garage.

  “Wow, this is nice,” remarked Elizabeth, as she got to the top of the stairs. “I’m glad we have you in charge of styling the cafe. You have a knack for it.”

  “Thank you,” said Kiki, smiling under the praise. “I do love doing it. I’m addicted to Elle Decor as you can probably tell.” She motioned to the pile of magazines on the nearby coffee table.

  “Well, your future subscriptions should be part of our expenses for the company. I think it’s important that the look of the place stays fresh.”

  Kiki set her stack of binders down on the couch. “I agree. Now … what are we going to do with all these binders?” She looked around the room. “Oh! I know. Follow me.” She led the other two up the stairs and into her room.

  “Oooh, I haven’t been in here yet. Wow, that bed looks comfy,” said Aimee.

  “It is. I splurged. After working my ass off until three in the morning, I liked having a super nice place to finally crash.”

  Elizabeth looked around, appraising the space. “I’m seriously impressed with you, Kiki. You have a beautiful home, an amazing eye for detail, and even your vehicle purchase was made with keen investment sense.”

  “Wow, thanks. That means a lot coming from an accountant. I am pretty proud of myself, actually. It wasn’t easy, but I did it.”

  Aimee put her binders on the bed and sat down on the edge of it, bouncing up and down as if testing its firmness. “When we hit the big time, I’m buying a bed like this.” She quit the bouncing and stood up. “Of course, that would be after I have a place of my own. I guess I should do that first.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Elizabeth. “As soon as we have your divorce out of the way, we can get started on making that happen. I figure by month eighteen you’ll be able to move out on your own.”

  “Wow, that soon?” asked Kiki.

  Aimee frowned. “I thought it would be sooner.” She looked at Kiki. “I don’t mean that I don’t love living here. I just figured … I don’t know … that I’d be independent before then, I guess.”

  “Well, most businesses don’t make money their first year. Some don’t until their second or third. But I was able to gather a significant amount of information online from the local chamber of commerce that’s invested quit a bit into market research. Plus, I have … or had … several clients in that business over the years, so I’m familiar with the fixed and variable costs. I think my numbers are as good as they can be. There’s always the fickle customer that can throw those calculations off, one way or the other.”

  “Well, it will be my job and Aimee’s job to manage those expectations as best we can and keep them from ruining your forecasts, right Aimee?” asked Kiki as she entered her closet. “Lizzie, help me move these shoe boxes, would you?”

  “Only if you agree to stop calling me that name,” she said, going to join her in the closet. “Holy crap, Kiki, how many pairs of shoes do you have?”

  “Lots. Here.” She started handing her boxes.

  “Where should I put them?”

  “On the bed for now.”

  Elizabeth took the first few boxes and handed them to Aimee who had come over to join them.

  “They’re empty,” Aimee said. “Where are the shoes?”

  “They’re in here. In their slots. I just keep the boxes for … emergencies.”

  “What kind of emergency requires a shoe box?” asked Elizabeth, handing more of them out to Aimee.

  “I’m not sure. I’ve never actually had to use one. That’s why I’m going to put the binders here and the boxes somewhere else.”

  “Like the recycle bin?” asked Aimee.

  “Maybe. I’m not sure.”

  Elizabeth leaned closer to Aimee and whispered, “I’m not sure she’s ready to let them go yet.”

  “I heard that,” said Kiki, sticking her head out
of the closet. “I’m not a hoarder.”

  “Except when it comes to shoe boxes,” said Aimee, giggling as she put another four boxes on top of the ten or so that were already on the bed. “Is that it?”

  “Not even close,” said Elizabeth, unable to keep the laughter out of her voice.

  Aimee walked over, and her eyes bugged out when she saw the inside of the closet. “Holy poo on a stick, Kiki. What in the world … ?”

  “Told you,” said Elizabeth.

  “I’m not a hoarder!” said Kiki, acting like she was mad, but unable to stop smiling.

  “You are too a shoe box hoarder. I think you need to join a support group or something,” said Aimee as she looked over the stacks and stacks of boxes on the shelves above her head. “It looks like a shoe store in here … only for people with big feet. What are you? A size nine?”

  Kiki slid another stack off and said, “I don’t need a support group. I have you guys. And yes, I’m a nine. I’m tall, okay? Just throw the damn boxes away if you want. I don’t care. I don’t need them. I don’t think.” She stopped, biting her lip.

  Elizabeth rubbed her arm reassuringly. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep a few of them. Not all of them,” she warned. “Just a few. You can pick ten you can’t live without.”

  “Ten?” asked Kiki, still looking worried.

  “Okay, a dozen. No more.” Elizabeth gave Kiki her best stern look, thinking how funny it was that the normally totally in control and self-reliant, reasonable Kiki had some kind of issue with shoes and their boxes.

  “I see you judging me,” said Kiki, play frowning.

  Elizabeth put up her hands. “No judgment here, babe. I have my issues and I’m sure Aimee has hers. It’s what makes you … interesting.”

  Aimee nodded as if in agreement. “Right. Interesting. Shoe box hoarding.”