“Okay, you’re the boss, Mirna. One shot coming right up.” I had an idea. “Where do I give her this?”
“Any muscle, dear. It’s a bigger gauge then the one I’ve been using, so anything fleshy will work,” Mirna answered, flitting about the kitchen with a knowing smile on her face. She wiped her hands on a towel and tossed it into the sink. She patted my cheek as she passed me and went into her room.
I didn’t know what Mirna was up to, but I didn’t have time to think about that or the now overflowing file weighing me down, in more ways than one.
I held up the needle and smiled. I had a motherfucking job to do. I pushed open Dre’s door, without knocking. “Paging Dr. Clearwater.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DRE
“Where’s Mirna? Why isn’t she giving this to me?” I asked. I’d been lying on my stomach on the bed, flipping through the brochure for the assisted living facility Mirna was on the waiting list for, when Preppy barged in. It looked like a nice place but it wasn’t somewhere I thought she belonged.
Not yet, anyway.
“She’s getting ready for some ladies from church to come over, so she asked me to do it. Now, come on. Time to strip. You need some music? Make sure you start slow. Teasing is key,” he rambled.
“I don’t have to be naked to get a shot,” I argued.
“Well aren’t you just a fun-sucker.” Preppy held up the needle, smiling confidently. “Don’t worry, Doc. I’ve seen like three episodes of Grey’s Anatomy, so I’m practically a licensed doctor. Now, be a good girl and bend over, show Dr. Preppy that ass.”
“Mirna gives it to me in my arm.”
“This is a new one. Different needle gauge or some shit,” Preppy answered.
Reluctantly, I did what I was told, but only because I wasn’t feeling all that well and I knew the shot would make me feel better, regardless of where it was shot into.
I bent over the bed and hiked up my dress, dramatically. “You’re a horrible junkie and an even worse stripper,” Preppy commented. I felt his heat as he approached the bed. My lower spine tingled as his legs brushed up against mine. I held my breath and started counting in my head, when the sudden need to push back against him surged through me. My nipples tightened, and I was glad he couldn’t see my face because I was sure I was flushed. “Why does it have to be administered this way again?” I managed to choke out.
Preppy chuckled. “It doesn’t.”
Before I could push off the bed, he pulled the cotton of my panties over into my crack and plunged the needle deep into my skin. It burned, but only for a second. When he pulled it back out I went to get up, but he pushed me back down onto the mattress. “Got to make sure it goes into the muscle,” he said, his voice a deep rasp as he expertly massaged the injection site with his fingers in a circular motion that had me moaning inwardly, and even more mad at him all at the same time.
My breath caught in my throat when his hand started roaming over my ass cheek, slowly tracing circles on my skin, nowhere near the injection site, heading further and further toward the place between my legs that was suddenly tingling with awareness. “I love those fucking heels,” he said, his voice lower than I’d heard it before. Raspy.
Fucking heels. That could be taken so many different ways, but my mind couldn’t process any of them because his fingertips grazed the trim of my panties, just as Mirna walked in the room. I jumped up, covering myself again with the skirt of my dress. Where I was frantic and looked guilty, although I didn’t know what I felt guilty about, technically nothing happened, Preppy smiled and plopped down on the bed, bouncing on the mattress like a little kid.
“It’s not what it looks…” I started, but stopped when I noticed there was something different about Mirna, about the way she kept glancing from me to Preppy with her eyebrows drawn tightly together. The doorbell rang. “Samuel, when did you get here?” she asked. “And who’s your friend?”
*
PREPPY
Mirna sat with three ladies from her church in the living room. I stood behind Dre, who leaned up against the wall of the hallway just out of sight, listening to Mirna tell stories about her past as if they’d happened that very day and not decades before. With each passing minute Dre’s shoulders fell further and further as she watched her grandmother, in the grips of her dementia, introduce herself to women she’d known for decades.
“Why does she always remember you?” Dre asked, without turning around, a hint of jealousy in her voice.
I scratched my head. “Fuck if I know. When she’s like this she’ll forget an entire week’s worth of our interactions, people she’s known for fifty years, but she usually knows who I am. Your guess as to why is as good as mine.”
I came up to stand next to her, she brushed her hair from her eyes. “Come on,” I said, grabbing her hand. “I want to show you something.”
“But,” Dre glanced back at Mirna.
“Ladies,” I announced. “We are going to step out for a moment. You cool here for a bit?”
Hilda, a woman bigger than Bear, turned around and nodded. “Take your time. We’ll be fine.”
“Hear that? They’re having a lovely tea.” I grabbed Dre by the hand and pulled her out the front door to my car. I opened the door and gestured for her to get in, but she stood there staring at the passenger seat. “It’s not going to bite you,” I informed her.
Dre looked back at the house. “What if she needs me in there?”
“She’ll be fine. Get in, I have something I want to run by you.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
I was growing irritated. “Don’t pretend like you’re the doting grandchild now. You kind of missed the boat on that one.”
“Pretending?” she said, pointing at herself. “You’re the one who puts on this fucking act so you can get elderly women to do your bidding. You’re the one who’s pretending. Not me!”
“Careful,” I warned. “You don’t know a god damn thing about me, Doc.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I know you’ve got Mirna fooled into thinking that you’re some great guy she thinks is her savior, when you’re just using her to get what you want.”
“Guess you got me all figured out then,” I said sarcastically, rounding the car to the passenger side and closing the space between us. “Now get in the fucking car.”
She took a step back, as if she had to prove her defiance. “Does she really even know who you really are? And I’m not talking about the guy who makes her laugh and listens to her stories, I’m talking about the other side. The side I caught a glimpse of on the water tower.”
“You don’t know shit about me, and now you’ve just proved you don’t know shit about Mirna, either. Your grandmother’s got dementia, she’s not fucking stupid.”
“Does she know you killed Eric?” she asked, staring me right in the eyes, challenging me. Fully expecting me to tell her no.