Not thinking, I left the bed, dragging the sheet with me. I wrapped it around me, rushed to the dresser, pulled open the second drawer down, grabbed the first t-shirt of Tate’s on top (one I’d laundered, folded and replaced just that day), yanked it out and then pulled it over my head at the same time I clutched the sheet to me. Once I got it on, I dropped the sheet, hurried to the closet, pawed through my open suitcase on the floor, grabbed some panties and yanked them on. Then I dashed out of the room.
Buster was close at my heels. She’d been sleeping with me and now she was sticking with me. This was probably because there was more shouting, more hurling of abuse and a fair amount of obscenities coming from outside and I guessed Buster probably had met Neeta but I figured Buster wasn’t a big fan of shouting and obscenities and I knew she wasn’t a big fan of having her sleep disturbed.
I hit the sliding glass door, which was open, slid through it and tugged it closed, using my foot gentle on Buster to keep her back so she wouldn’t get out. I turned to the left and saw Wood was dragging a fighting, hissing Neeta by her upper arm down the deck toward the end where her convertible was parked, top down.
Of course. Neeta drove through the night with the top down.
Neeta saw me, jerked free of Wood and came at me, launching herself my way with such velocity, she nearly bent double when Wood’s arm wrapped around her stomach, halting her progress.
She yanked up her torso, her eyes slashed the length of me and she threatened, “I’ll rip that shirt off you, you fuckin’ bitch.”
My eyes went the length of her too. Another very short mini-skirt. Another tight tank. A pair of flip flops. Full makeup even though it was the wee hours of the morning, dawn only a promise.
Taking her in, standing on Tate’s deck, facing off against the Dread Neeta, for some reason I was completely composed. I’d never been in a catfight and would have been glad never to get in one in my life. But at that moment I didn’t care. It was likely she could kick my ass but maybe I could get a few licks in and I was kind of looking forward to it.
“What did I do to you?” I asked her.
She struggled against her brother’s hold, eyes fixed to me. “Take it off right now or I’ll rip it off,” she hissed.
“I don’t even know you,” I informed her.
“Laurie, get inside,” Wood ordered, his other arm wrapping around Neeta’s chest and he was dragging her back.
Neeta threw out a hand and grabbed the railing, successfully stopping Wood from retreating.
“You know me,” she snapped.
“I’ve never met you,” I pointed out the obvious.
“You live in Carnal, you know me,” she repeated. “You also know you’re tryin’ to take what’s mine.”
“He isn’t yours,” I stated calmly.
“He’s mine,” she shot back and threw out an arm indicating the house. “This house is mine.” She jabbed a finger at me. “That shirt is mine.” She strained against Wood’s hold and her eyes got squinty. “His cock is mine. He’s… fuckin’… mine.”
I looked to Wood and told him, “She needs medication.”
“Fuck you!” she shrieked, let go of the railing and struggled against Wood’s grip.
“You can’t really believe you can behave like this and think you’re going to scare me away. I know about you and I also know Tate wants not one thing to do with you,” I declared.
She stopped struggling and looked me straight in the eye.
“Yeah?” she asked. “He tell you that?”
“Yes, he did,” I answered.
“That’s what he says, bitch, then I whisper in his ear and open my legs and he likes the smell, the taste, and he’s right back in there.”
“Maybe so,” I replied. “But that was before me and he told me I was the best he ever had. He also told me, after two decades of you leaving nothing but bitter in his mouth, I was a sweet the like he never tasted.”
I was making some of that up but I thought the situation merited it.
At my words, she quieted in her brother’s arms. I watched her stare at me for a second then, when she had no response, I kept going.
“He admitted you were under his skin. He admitted he loved you. But he told me I’m under his skin now, he’s worked you out. Or, the way it sounds, you treated him so poorly you worked your own way out.” I shook my head and said quietly, “Stupid, honey, you should have done everything to stay where you were. I’m there now and, you have to know, it’s a good place to be.”
“Shut your fuckin’ mouth,” she whispered, the words shaking with fury.
I ignored her.
“So, this house isn’t mine and this shirt isn’t mine, they’re Tate’s, but he’s mine.”
“Shut your fuckin’ mouth,” she screeched and started struggling against Wood’s hold again but we all heard the roar of the pipes and saw the headlight shine on the house.
I turned and watched Tate ride up the drive and park beside the convertible. There were lots of outside lights shining on the deck, the drive, the area around the garage and he was illuminated fully but he moved so quickly I didn’t see him swing off the bike and walk to the deck. It was just that he was suddenly there.
Wood and Neeta had separated but Wood had only moved a few feet away from her. They were facing each other but both of their heads were turned to Tate.