She touched her cheek to mine and whispered, “Later, girl.”
Then al the Rock Chicks were gone.
I made my dog breakfast and poured myself a coffee but al the while I did it, my head was in the shower.
Therefore, when Mace got out of the shower, I was standing in the kitchen, a half-drunk cup of coffee in my hand, Juno’s heavy body lying on my feet and my eyes were on the door.
I watched as he moved toward his bags, pul ed out some fresh clothes and then yanked off the towel. I held my breath at the sight of him but I didn’t get a very long look. He dressed in record time and walked back to the bathroom.
I stayed where I was, a feeling of dread stealing over me.
Something was not right and it was more than its usual under-threat-of-being-murdered not right.
Mace came back out, tossed his boots by the platform, shoved his clothes in his bag, pul ed out a pair of socks and then zipped the bag closed.
Oh yes.
Something was not right.
That feeling of dread grew.
He sat on the platform again to put on his socks and boots.
“Mace –” I started, what I was going to say, I didn’t know but I didn’t get the chance.
“The boys’l cover you today,” he told me, not looking up from what he was doing.
“Mace –”
“I’l have my shit outta here by the time you get back.” I felt my mouth fil with saliva, that feeling of dread building and spreading so fast I was paralyzed.
I fought the paralysis and whispered, “Mace –” yet again.
“I’l cal Turner and tel him he’s up.”
My hand not holding the coffee cup came down and gripped the counter.
“Eric?” I asked.
Mace stood and looked at me. “You know another Turner?”
I shook my head even though I probably did. I knew a lot of people.
Mace put his tongue to his teeth and gave a sharp whistle.
Juno shot up, trotted to him and Mace bent over and gave her a ful doggie rubdown.
A final, farewell ful doggie rubdown.
This isn’t right, my brain sounded panicked and confused.
“Mace –” I started again.
Mace stopped rubbing Juno down and headed toward his bag.
“Stay wel , Stel a,” he said, not looking at me, bending to his bag and lifting up, throwing the strap over his shoulder and turning to the door.
Oh my God, this isn’t right! My brain screamed.
I had to do something. Anything. And I had to do it quick.
“I broke my arm when I was twelve. Fel off my bike,” I blurted.
Mace stopped on his way to the door. His side to me, he only turned his head when he looked at me.
I swal owed. “When I got home, my Mom was gone, I don’t know where. My Dad was the only one there.” Mace didn’t move and didn’t speak.
My breath wasn’t taking a hike, it was coming fast and scared. Al thoughts of wanting Mace out of my life were gone.
Poof.
Vanished.
“Dad didn’t –” I began but Mace interrupted me by shaking his head.
“Too late,” he told me and my stomach clenched.
“Let me finish,” I whispered, Mace shook his head but I kept talking. “My arm was hanging funny, it hurt so much I thought I’d pass out from the pain. You’d think that’s al I thought I’d pass out from the pain. You’d think that’s al I would remember –”
“Too late,” Mace said again.
“But it wasn’t what I remembered.” I pressed on. “He was so pissed. Dad was. He was watching some golf tournament on TV and he was pissed at me because he had to take me to the hospital instead of –” Mace interrupted me again. His body turned toward me and his voice was back to low and vibrating in that scary way. “Too fuckin’ late.”
“Don’t go,” I whispered, changing tactics, my head coming together, my thoughts, for the first time in days, final y clear and focused.
I knew what I was doing, letting him have sex with me, sleep with me, move in with me. I knew I was doing it because I wanted it, I wanted him. Actions speak louder than words but I’d so wrapped myself in that cotton wool Floyd told me about, I didn’t hear the muffled communication.
I held my breath.
Mace stared at me.
I stared back.
“Please, don’t go,” I said again.
Part of me expected him to grin in triumph, come forward, pul me in his arms and kiss me.
I decided I’d have to act pissed off for awhile and then, once I gave him a load of shit, I’d let it go.
Instead, his mouth got tight, he turned on his boot, and he muttered, “For fuck’s sake, arm the alarm.” Then he was gone.
My body was twisted in order to look over my shoulder at the closed door.
What just happened? My shocked brain asked.
I didn’t answer.
I knew what just happened.
I slid down the cupboard, put my coffee cup beside me on the floor, closed my eyes and pressed my forehead into my knees.
I felt Juno pushing her nose into my neck, giving doggie comfort as best she could but I didn’t turn to her.
Instead, I slid straight into the place that knew me wel .
I slid directly into black.