Ribbons (13 page)

Dani shut her eyes as Erica’s tongue flicked out against the base of her ear. It tickled, but instead of moving her head away, Dani tilted it to expose more of her neck and used one hand to lift her hair out of the way. The tickling was followed by nibbling. Then Erica’s fingers slipped above the cup of Dani’s bra to tease out her nipple. She pinched lightly before taking her hand away. She must have licked her fingers because when they returned to Dani’s breast, they were slick and warm. Her finger rolled around Dani’s nipple, pushing a little more firmly with each circle.

Dani was breathing faster now, the rhythm matching the rotations of Erica’s finger. Actually, she wasn’t sure if her breath was matching Erica’s fingers or if Erica was timing her fingers to Dani’s breath. Either way, both sped up, and Dani realized that other parts of her body were moving in time, as well. Her own hand started rubbing Erica’s hip. The satin belt gave way, but she kept her hand on the robe, liking the way the material slid over Erica’s body. Her hips also started to rock, pushing back, then up, forward, back, then up.

After one final pinch and nibble from Erica, Dani had to turn around. It didn’t make sense to wear clothes anymore, and all of a sudden she wanted to be out of them as soon as possible. For Erica, that was easy. One quick flick and her robe fell into a puddle on the floor. That simple smile was still there, now with a hint of a dare. Dani peeled her own shirt off and released her bra with a quick twist of her fingers. She was still wearing her belt. Erica seemed to be enjoying Dani’s frustration as she clawed the buckle open and gave it a yank. She unbuttoned her pants and the weight of the belt carried them to the floor. There was a loud
thunk
as gun, ammo, cuffs and Taser hit the tile.

They stood there for a second, eyeing each other and gasping in the steam. Dani wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly their bodies collided and their lips pressed together. Somehow they ended up in the shower.

Erica pulled back to let the water from the showerhead fill up the space where their bodies met. Her hand reached down between Dani’s legs and found no resistance. Erica pushed up with her middle finger, and Dani’s head arched back at the pressure. Two more thrusts and Dani was up against the shower wall. Erica leaned in and kissed Dani’s neck. Her tongue traced a line along her neck, across her breast, and down her belly. It lingered for a second at her navel, which made Dani squirm a bit. She looked down at Erica and found her staring, waiting. Then with their eyes locked, Erica continued her slide down Dani’s pelvis and between her thighs. Erica’s tongue was poised like a finger, pointing out where she intended to go next. Then she lunged in, and Dani lost all sense of time.

The water was cold before they were finished.

They recovered in bed. The satin sheets were cool against her skin as Erica kneaded her shoulders with a firm, steady grip. Dani must have even dozed off for a bit because she woke to the sound of typing coming from the kitchen. Dani rolled over and looked out the bedroom door. She could see Erica at a small breakfast table, lit up by the glow of her laptop screen. No doubt she was updating her status page with snarky comments about her day’s work. Dani didn’t follow it too much, afraid of what she might see.

She sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. Her clothes were still in the bathroom. She was a bit chilly now, too, since Erica kept the air-conditioning on all year round. Dani hated the idea of putting on her uniform again right away. Maybe she had time for some tea and a bite of whatever was in the fridge before she had to leave. She would borrow a shirt until then.

The nightstand had two drawers. The top one didn’t have any clothes in it at all. Instead, there were some scattered bits of jewelry, a dog-eared paperback of Stephen King’s
Rose Madder
, and a framed picture. The picture was of a young girl dressed like a princess at Disneyland. The girl was pretending to kiss Goofy on the cheek with the iconic fairytale castle in the background. Goofy was covering his bucktoothed mouth as if he was embarrassed. The man standing next to them was smiling and giving the girl bunny ears with two raised fingers, his expression frozen in an eye roll.

Dani opened the second drawer. She had the strange sensation of seeing something familiar in a completely foreign context, like opening your closet door to find a winter wonderland inside. The box in the drawer was something that she saw regularly at work, typically at the firing range where a plain brown paper box like this one held fifty rounds of pistol ammunition and was usually accompanied by testosterone-fueled one-liners like
Come get some
or
Game over, man
. Here, the box was nestled between faded cotton panties and wadded-up nylons. There could be anything inside.

It turned out there
were
bullets inside this box. They just weren’t for shooting.

The box currently only held about half the number of bullets that it should. Several of those were missing their slugs, which now rattled around on the bottom of the box. That didn’t make any sense. Why would you take the gunpowder out of a bullet? Maybe to use the powder for something else?

Dani’s mind raced through all the fetishes she knew of. Dripping candle wax was a thing. Maybe flash burns were, too?

One of the empty cartridges had tipped over, and she picked it up. Underneath was some powder. It didn’t look right at all—too fine and too pale. She touched her forefinger to the powder, then rubbed it against her thumb. Definitely not gunpowder. Her training kicked in and told her something she didn’t want to hear.

She decided to put on her uniform, after all. She rushed through it, not bothering to look for her panties or tuck in her shirt. Her gun belt felt heavy, and all the stress she had been feeling rushed back when she fastened the buckle. A tear crept along one cheek. She hated that and practically scraped it off with one hand.

Erica called out from the kitchen. “You up already, baby?”

Dani’s reply was to slap down a fistful of bullets on the table in front of Erica’s laptop. Erica looked startled, but Dani could tell that she instantly understood the situation. So Dani just started yelling.

“You told me you were done!”

Erica’s reply was too calm. Slow, like she was talking to a child. “I told you I was
quitting
.”

That
really
pissed Dani off. “Which was a lie!”

“No,” Erica said. “I was quitting. Uncle Quent was helping me. He . . . left.”

Dani crossed her arms. “So you dove right back in? You couldn’t ask me for help?”

Erica closed her laptop. “No. I couldn’t.”

“What? Why not?”

“We’re not close like that,” Erica said matter-of-factly.

Dani had to just stand there for a moment. What was tonight all about, then? Erica had taken care of
her
tonight. It wasn’t just a fling. She had to feel it, too, right?

“We could be,” Dani finally managed to say.

“I need you here,” said Erica. “Something to look forward to. Something to make the day worthwhile. I don’t want to hate you.”

Dani shook her head. “I can’t deal with this right now. There’s too much going on.”

Erica’s voice was quiet. “See, like that. Do you really think you could help me in your spare time? That’s not the way it works.”

Dani wanted to lash out again, but she found that she couldn’t. Instead, she said, “I have to go.”

She could feel Erica’s eyes on her, and when she left the room, she heard Erica say, “Sure. I understand.”

It was almost a whisper.

17

Matt held up the jar and gave it a shake. One lonely maraschino cherry spun around in a whirlpool of syrup. He was going to need more. It was partially his fault. When he was bored and his sweet tooth got the better of him, he would pop the neon-red balls into his mouth like candy, which they practically were.  He was trying to find other ways to keep himself busy.

He figured he should try to learn how to mix their top-selling cocktails. He was about to attempt his first umbrella drink. It recommended three cherries. While most of the alcohol sales at the Golden Delicious were either bottled beer or shots—that made it easy for Matt to cover the bar most of the time—clients did occasionally order something more complex. Sometimes the guy ordering the drink was just trying to sound impressive, or sometimes he had a sweet tooth like Matt.

There was a convention in town, and the parlor was in full swing. Something to do with sales. Most of the guys here were wearing suits, so Matt guessed they were unwinding after a hard day spent trying to impress one another. He had run more than one corporate credit card for drinks. Charges from the Golden Delicious would show up later as
QBJ Hospitality Services
on a credit card bill. Just vague enough to be easily justified on an expense report. All the rooms were occupied, and the girls were doing their best to keep the rest of the customers entertained until something freed up.

Matt caught Christy’s eye before he left the parlor to track down more cherries. She was dealing cards for a game of strip poker. The customers had the option of buying extra cards at five dollars a pop. Even so, Christy and the girls were holding their own. They were going to have to start cheating or these guys were going to be stripping for each other. Probably not good for business. From across the room, Matt held up the near-empty jar of cherries and motioned to the doorway. She nodded.

On his way toward the break room, he saw Amber/Jessica pinning one the suits up against the wall in the hallway. She had a wicked look in her eye as she flipped the guy’s tie back over his shoulder. He was still wearing his convention badge, announcing him as Douglas Merrill from Spokane, Washington. Doug was clearly transfixed by Amber as she walked a pair of fingers up his chest and slid one knee between his legs. They were obviously up next for the party room. Matt hurried past.

When he opened the door to the break room, he caught Adam midbite as he crunched down on an Oreo. He was sitting on the couch in front of the TV. A small blue creature wearing a white hat poked its head out the window of mushroom-shaped house. Its eyes turned into animated hearts as another small blue creature walked by. This one wore a white dress. She taunted him by cocking her hips to one side and touching her long blond hair.

“Hey,” Matt said as he walked through toward the kitchen.

Adam didn’t look up from the TV, but he did return the, “Hey.”

Adam’s homework was sprawled out all over the breakfast table. He wondered how much homework a nine-year-old was supposed to have. What grade was that? Third? Fourth? Matt never had homework when he was growing up. He was never really in a grade. His aunt Rose had taken care of most of his education when he was that age, and he wouldn’t be done with “school” until all his work was completed for the day. She had taught him Math and English. She was strict, but her lessons were a relief compared to his father’s. Her lessons made sense, or at least they had eventually. They were based on logic, or rules, or at least things that people all tended to agree on. Things that didn’t change much.

His father’s lessons had been based on belief. The rules seemed to change with each lesson. He constantly had to learn new words to go with the new rules. Sometimes they would be in English but the language would sound different and words would be spelled differently. Sometimes they weren’t English words at all, and he had to learn a new word or phrase in Latin or some other language that wasn’t even spoken anymore. When Matt had asked why, his father had told him that the words didn’t have direct translations, and that he would have to learn how to think with symbols instead of words. Whatever that meant.

Aunt Rose had tested him, but she had also praised him, even putting stickers on his work sometimes. Gold stars or scratch and sniff. His father never had stickers, and his tests hadn’t been measured in points. Matt either failed or succeeded. When he did succeed, his father would immediately explain how it could have been done better.

Matt shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. His eyes refocused on one of Adam’s notebook pages. It was covered in one big doodle. It had loops, lines, and patterns. The whole thing looked organic, too, like it had come out of the boy’s mind and flowed directly onto the page without thought. Parts of the doodle looked familiar, but Matt couldn’t quite place them. He stared at it for a second and was impressed when he realized that the doodle was created with one long elaborate line.

Matt set his jar down on the counter next to the sink. The lone cherry drifted lazily in the sticky goo, and he opened a drawer to pull out a fork.

There was a thump against the wall just outside the door. Amber must have brought Doug farther down the hallway looking for a little privacy. Her voice was muffled, but Matt could still hear her chatting up her client. “Come on, baby. Show me what’s stretching out those tighty-whities.”

Adam obviously heard them, too, though he didn’t seem too fazed by it. He reached for the TV remote and tapped on it a few times. The volume got a little louder, and a little blue creature with a beard declared, “We must help all the creatures of the forest!”

Matt unscrewed the lid off his jar. He eyed his cherry and speared at it with his fork. He missed. “What are you watching?” he asked Adam.

“
The Smurfs
.” He sounded slightly disappointed.

“Do they still make Smurfs?” asked Matt.

“Not these ones,” said Adam. “My mom found them on eBay.”

Matt tried again for his cherry, and Adam ate another cookie.

An old wizard shook his fist at the Smurfs as they hid in a hollowed-out log. “I’ll get you yet! You hear me?”

This time Matt heard Doug’s voice in the hallway. “Uh, just to warn you . . . It’s, uh,
fun-sized
. . . like Halloween candy.”

“Short and sweet?” asked Amber. “Are you gonna dress it up?”

“Ha ha ha! Silly old man!” said a Smurf.

Matt finally gave up on his fork and plunged his hand into the jar. He was going to eat that damn cherry.

“Aren’t you a bit old for the Smurfs?” Matt asked.

“Probably,” said Adam. “But I still kinda like them.”

As Matt finally bit down on his prize, he thought about asking Amber to find another corner of the house to conduct her business. He washed his hand and wondered if either of them would even notice if he stuck his head out the door.

Adam sidelined him before he could make up his mind. “Did you hear about that woman they found at the motel?”

Matt had seen the story on the news. It was hard to miss. There weren’t a lot of details being given yet, but the reporter had mentioned the victim’s name and her prior conviction of prostitution.

“I think I heard something about that,” Matt said. “Pretty messed up.”

Adam stared straight ahead, but it was pretty clear he was no longer watching his show. “Mom used to go out on jobs. She would go to casinos and hotels.”

Matt opened a cupboard to look for another jar of cherries. He hoped he sounded confident. “I’m sure nothing like that would happen to your mom. She’s pretty smart.”

“Yeah,” said Adam. “Still.”

Matt stopped his search to look over at Adam. “I know. It’s scary.”

The boy gave a half shrug. “Uncle Quent had a gun. He showed it to me one time.” Adam turned to meet Matt’s eyes. “That’s probably yours now, I guess.”

“Yeah,” said Matt. “I think I’ve seen it around.” He opened another cupboard and found what he was looking for next to a bottle of chocolate syrup. He took the jar and went over to the couch. “Your dad will catch whoever did that.”

Adam was watching his show again. Or at least pretending to. “I know.”

Matt looked at the door. He thought he heard a soft moan coming from the hallway. He decided to have a seat on the couch. He twisted the lid of the jar and offered Adam a cherry. “What’s that cat’s name again?”

Adam considered the cherries but went with another Oreo instead. “Azrael. He’s funny. He’s the best part of the show. I wish we had a—”

Adam was interrupted by the guy in the hallway. “Oh yeah! Just like that! Blow that little pig!”

Apparently, Amber wasn’t waiting for a room, after all. “Mmm. I’m like the big bad wolf, baby. I’ll blow your house down.”

“—a cat,” Adam finished.

Adam tapped the “volume” button some more, and they both stared at the TV in awkward silence.

Adam closed up his Oreo bag and looked sideways at Matt. “Why do they always have to sound like that? It’s always the same thing. They sound stupid.”

Matt nodded. “Guys get stupid around girls.”

“I mean the girls.” Adam turned to look at Matt. “That’s not how they sound at breakfast.”

“Well,” said Matt, “I don’t know. I guess maybe they have to stoop down to our level. They’re just making love.”

Adam turned back to the TV. “It’s not love.”

“No,” said Matt, “I guess not.”