She came to a stop, holding the remote to her car up as she unlocked it.
“Stop staring at my ass.” She said looking over her shoulder, forcing me to lift my eyes from said ass.
“It’s a great ass.” I said honestly. I wasn’t going to hide the fact that I was ogling her ass. What was the point? It was like she had eyes behind her head or some shit. She treated me to an eye roll and I wondered if she did that a lot or just towards me. It seemed like every time I opened my mouth, she rolled her eyes. She looked at me expectantly, then back towards the candy apple red Mustang that we were standing in front of. I balanced myself and looked back at her.
“You’re kidding me, right? This is your car?” I ran the palm of my hand over the backside of the car in awe of the piece of machinery in front of me. I looked back at Nikki who looked completely unfazed.
“It’s just a car.” She said with a shrug of her shoulders.
I looked at her as if she had lost her ever loving mind. It was a beauty that was making me regret all the drinking I had done because I wouldn’t mind ripping the key out of her hand and taking both beauties for a ride. I watched Nikki walk around the car climbing into the driver’s seat, turning on the ignition. The car roared to life as Nikki looked at me expectantly reaching for the door.
“You coming or what?” She asked before pulling the door closed. There were a lot of ways I wanted to answer her question, but she hadn’t given me the opportunity. I stumbled around to the passenger door, pulling it open I climbed inside and slid into the seat. Some song from Flo Rida blasted through the speakers. Nikki barely waited for me to shut the door before she cranked the shifter into reverse and peeled out of the parking lot.
I clicked my seatbelt into place as she sang along with the radio, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel. I took every inch of her in as she danced in her seat.
“Hey, I heard you were a wild one… If I took you home it would be a home run…” She sang off key and louder than the actual radio. She threw one hand up in the air holding the steering wheel with the other and shook her head from side to side getting all into it. She was a sight and a welcomed one at that. I heard a foreign sound my own laughter. She glanced at me smiling, and then turned down the volume on the radio. “That’s my jam.”
I stared at her for a few moments before leaning my head back against the seat. Even in the state of mind, that I was currently in it was apparent that Nikki was a handful. The thing was I didn’t mind it not even one bit. In my otherwise fucked up world she was a breath of fresh air.
We were silent as she drove allowing me to get caught up in the streets that I once called my home. She put her signal on to make a right turn onto 86th street. I swallowed hard against the lump that had emerged in my throat. Just a few blocks ahead stood the bakery where my father was murdered in front. I wonder if it looked the same as I remembered it. The universe apparently wanted to fuck a little more with my emotions and as we approached Rosalie’s Bakery, the light changed to red causing us to come to a standstill right in front of where my father’s bloody body had stained the concrete.
There was no more caution tape. Why would there be? People walked in and out of the bakery carrying their baked goods. Pedestrians walked along the pavement seemingly without a care in the world. No one was thinking how a man had died in front of that bakery. No one was thinking how his blood pooled out around his lifeless body. No one thought about Michael Valente no one but me.
The light changed to green and Nikki drove off, leaving the bakery behind. I glanced up and noticed we were only a few blocks away from the house I grew up in the house I shared with my parents. My parents, who were dead.
“Turn left here.” I said my voice was barely above a whisper and I wasn’t even sure she heard me.
Nikki glanced over at me. “You sure about this?” She asked me her voice all soft and concerned.
I nodded, encouraging her to make the left as I had asked her to. She turned down the street where my parent’s home stood, the fourth house from the corner.
“Slow down.” I said. She slowly rolled up in front of the house, giving me time to take it all in. It was exactly as I remembered nothing on the exterior had been altered at all. I knew that Victor had taken care of the house after we picked up and left. He had rented it out and would mail my mother a check every month. I always wondered why my mother never sold the house. Funny how she hung onto it even though she tried so desperately to escape this life of ours.