Throwaway (3 page)

“I don’t know… tell him I’m working in a soup
kitchen or something.”

“A soup kitchen?”

“What can I say? I’m a hooker with a heart,”
Jessie shrugged prettily.

Harmony rolled her eyes and laughed. “I’ll be
sure to tell him that, too.”

“Maybe he won’t check up on me.”

“Maybe,” Harmony didn’t seem convinced. “Be
careful tonight.”

Jessie had opted to keep Gabe’s true
occupation to herself. There was no sense worrying Harmony more
than she already was. She wondered if she’d have to wait long for
Gabe to show up.

Turns out he was waiting for her.

“Who was the goon that came to drag you out
of the Beale the other night?” he frowned at her as she eased into
the chair across from him.

“My brother,” she motioned for the waitress
to bring her a beer as she spoke. “And hello to you, too.”

“Your brother?” he took a drink of his own
beer, seemingly considering his next words. “I doubt that. Are you
okay?”

“Yeah,” she shrugged a little. “My brother
covered for me with Daddy, so I didn’t get grounded or
anything.”

“Right,” the way he drew the word out spoke
volumes. They were silent for a moment, both seeming to consider
the lone singer on the stage. Jessie’d seen him around before. He
was a young, good looking guy who appeared to be at least a little
tipsy. The line of empty Corona bottles behind him seemed to back
that assessment. Still, he was talented and his laid-back demeanor
fit the sea-shanty feel of the place. Well, sea-shanty with a White
Castle as its closest neighbor.

“So, tell me about being a teacher. That must
be fascinating. What grade do you teach?” Jessie drew her gaze away
from the yellow, pink and green lights running along the rafters to
look Gabe in the eye.

“There’s not much to tell.”

“What district do you work in?”

“You’re awfully inquisitive tonight.”

“I just find teaching such a fascinating
subject. You know, I’ve often considered myself a teacher of
sorts.”

Gabe choked on his beer and Jessie smiled
behind her bottle as she took another swig.

“I thought you were in customer service,” he
recovered nicely, his eyes locked on the graffiti art covering the
benches lining the walls.

“You can offer exceptional service and teach
someone at the same time,” Jessie primly informed him.

“I’ll have to remember that,” he said once
he’d composed himself a second time. This time, his eyes held
hers.

The waitress brought Gabe another beer and
took their order. Jessie was grateful for the distraction. She
studied the trees peeking through the open rafter ceiling for a
moment.

She loved this place, with its rickety tables
and walls that were a mixture of wooden planks, stone and brick.
She loved that people freely signed their names on the benches and
walls. Some of the artwork was really quite good.

Someone at the bar was smoking a cigar and it
gave the room a cherry wood smell. A breeze licked her skin,
promising a summer storm before the night was over. Conversation
resumed but stayed light as they shared a bowl of gumbo. She
imagined it was what gumbo tasted like in New Orleans.

“Come on,” Jessie stood, grabbing his hand to
tug him along behind her after they’d finished their dinner.

“Where are we going?”

Jessie’s only answer was a wicked little grin
before pulling him to her, their bodies instinctively moving to the
music.

“We’re the only ones on the dance floor. I
don’t know that we’re supposed to do this.”

“He doesn’t mind.”

“How do you know?” he seemed skeptical.

“Excuse me,” she leaned against the stage,
immediately capturing the singer’s attention, “Do you mind if this
gentleman and I dance right here?”

“I’d love for you to dance, sugar,” he
answered into the microphone. “I know just the song.”

“You’re my hero,” Jessie gave Gabe a look
that smacked of “told you so.”

And just like that, the music shifted to a
slower pace. The new beat demanded her body’s attention. It tugged
and pushed and pulled like an unseen puppeteer and she took Gabe on
the ride with her.

He seemed to have forgotten being
self-conscious. The look on his face said he wanted to devour
Jessie. Whatever his mind had planned for her, his body was
completely malleable to her will at the moment.

What Jessie hadn’t expected was how her own
body hummed at his touch. Every nerve ending was on alert.

Harmony once told her that when lightning
strikes, not only does a current come from the storm, but streamers
from objects on the ground actually extend up, attracted by the
current. When the charge from the storm meets the streamer on the
ground, you have a lightning strike.

She felt like her whole body was one big
network of streamers. If they connected right now, she imagined it
would feel about like being struck by lightning.

Before she could let herself get carried away
any further, she leaned close to his ear, his rough cheek brushing
her own smooth one as she whispered, “I think I’ve figured out what
kind of teacher you are… Social Studies.”

“Is that so? What makes you say that?”

“I can picture you teaching eager young minds
all about things like the justice system. And I’m sure you’re the
kind of thorough teacher who would be sure to cover the
lesser-known facts. Like the entire Miranda statement—not just the
‘right to remain silent’ stuff you see on T.V.”

“Of course,” he played along.

“I bet you’d also explain to your students
about the difference between a sting operation and entrapment.”

“A must-know for eager young minds these
days.”

“I bet that lecture is a real crowd pleaser,”
Jessie stilled, her eyes meeting his. She’d meant to level the man.
Instead, she found herself appallingly close to kissing him again.
Or crying. Both felt like a distinct possibility at the moment.

They stood frozen in place, a breath away
from each other and afraid to move in either direction. A war waged
within. She took some amount of comfort from the fact that he
seemed to be struggling as much as she.

“So… where do we go from here?” he spoke so
close to her skin she could feel his words more than she heard
them.

She licked her lips and took a steadying
breath. “I have no idea.”

“Me either.”

They might as well have been the only two
people in the room. Jessie was keenly aware of her crackling nerves
and his every breath. The rest was a blur.

“I think I need a drink,” his breath was
jagged.

“Me too.”

The beer was warm, but it was wet and that
was half the battle. Even better, it was something to do that
wouldn’t get her into trouble.

It didn’t seem like the place or time for the
kind of talk they needed to have. They sat in silence, letting the
music wash over them as they regarded each other. He would
occasionally take a breath as if to speak, but would invariably
shake his head and sink back into silence.

Jessie’s lip twitched ever-so-slightly.

“What?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” she held her hands up. “Not a
thing.”

“Then stop looking like you want to laugh at
me,” he admonished before a chuckle of his own escaped.

“Not at you, necessarily,” she promised as a
giggle bubbled up. With one last look at each other, they gave up
the battle and succumbed to their laughter. When Jessie finally
caught her breath, she sat back and surveyed him—wishing she could
read his mind as she tried to figure out where to go from
there.

“Looks like your friend is here,” Gabe nodded
towards the street. Sure enough, Vance was striding towards the
door with a scowl on his face.

“They know who you are,” Jessie glanced
around to see if the door by the stage was clear. “If my boss
catches me here with you, he will kill one or both of us.”

“He might try,” Gabe seemed all-too-ready for
the challenge.

“Whatever, tough guy. I’m not sticking around
while you two check to see whose is bigger.”

With that, she was out of her seat and headed
towards the stage and the door that stood beside it.

“I resent that,” Gabe was right on her heels.
“…I don’t need to check.”

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes, pausing to
check the street.

It was clear and she took the chance to dart
towards the White Castle as Vance went in the Oyster Bar’s front
door. She ducked into White Castle, ordering a coffee for herself
and Gabe to kill some time while she surveyed the streets around
her.

The Mercedes rounded the corner, apparently
circling the block while Vance was inside. The second it was out of
sight, she and Gabe went out the restaurant’s side door and crossed
Broadway. They disappeared behind a large brick building with a
painting of an oversized owl and a wizard issuing the peace
sign.

Jessie stopped and leaned against the cool
brick of the building while she thought about what to do next. Gabe
leaned beside her, shielding her from the view of the street with
his body. The small act of chivalry wasn’t lost on her. Neither was
the fact that with him this close, the need to touch him was almost
palpable.

“So… do any of your associates spend much
time in South County?” he tenderly brushed an errant hair from her
cheek as he spoke.

Jessie licked her lips distractedly before
answering, “Not usually.”

“Come on, then.”

He didn’t offer any more explanation and she
didn’t ask for it. He took her fingers loosely in his and led her
to his car. She wasn’t surprised that he drove a beat up old Jeep.
At one point in its life, it was probably red. Now it was faded and
looked as if it spent more time off the road than on. It suited
him.

She was a little surprised that he was
listening to Leonard Cohen. It seemed a little dark for him… not
that she really knew him at all. The music pumping from the
speakers pronounced the dice as loaded, the fight as fixed. It was
a statement Jessie could get behind at the moment. She hadn’t
wasted much of her life feeling sorry for herself, but she allowed
herself that small indulgence as the road passing underneath took
her further away from the city.

Her childhood had consisted of being bounced
from foster home to group home and back again and she’d taken that
in stride. When the state had kicked her out on her eighteenth
birthday with $47 to her name and nothing else, she’d dusted
herself off and found a way to survive.

When the means of survival turned out to be
less than ideal, she looked for the good in that, too. She’d held
her head high when Spence degraded her. She rolled with the
punches—proverbial and not.

But this was just ticking her off. She looked
up at the stars and mentally asked them if she’d ever done anything
to harm the cosmos. Was there a reason she wasn’t even allowed the
pleasure of a crush? She wasn’t even asking for love here… just a
crush. It was the minutia of the wish being denied that infuriated
her.

“Penny for your thoughts.” His hand twitched,
as if he wanted to touch her as badly as she wanted him to.

Jessie chuckled at that. “If that’s all
thoughts are worth, I guess I did land myself in the right
profession.”

Gabe shook his head, but Jessie could see his
grin in the dim light.

“You don’t want to know my thoughts,” she
added. “Hell, I don’t even want to be in my head right now.”

“I know the feeling.”

“So… where are we going?”

“To a little diner the guys took me to a
while back. It’s open all night and the coffee’s good. And no one
we know should be there.”

Jessie nodded, not really sure what else to
say.

“When did you figure out I was a cop?”

“When Vance told me. I’m normally pretty good
at picking out the cops. I guess my radar is a little rusty. Would
you really have arrested me?”

“Absolutely.”

“Really?” Jessie tried not to look hurt.

“I’d like to think so.”

“Jackass.”

“It’s my job.”

Jessie merely arched an eyebrow at him. She
had ditched her job for him—he could at least lie and tell her he
would have done the same. She certainly wasn’t going to admit that
to him now.

“I should arrest you now.”

“I haven’t done anything illegal.”

“Contributing to the delinquency of a
minor.”

“I don’t like you anymore.”

“You like me?” he asked playfully.

“Used to. Maybe. A little bit.”

“Used to?”

“Yep.”

“What if I admit that I was supposed to take
you in after you got Harmony into Aruba?”

“That could possibly work in your favor,” she
considered, biting the edge of her lower lip rather than smile.

“Come on, I’ll buy you the greasiest burger
you’ve ever had in your life,” he smiled charmingly at her as he
slid the car into the last remaining parking place.

“Sounds appetizing,” she didn’t even try to
keep the sarcasm from her voice.

“You’ll love it,” he promised as he rounded
the car to open her door. The only reason she was still seated when
he got there was shock on her part.

“I place my life in your hands,” she replied
saucily, accepting the hand he offered as she climbed out of the
Jeep. A look flashed in his eyes, one that seemed to wonder if
there was more to that statement than a joke. Jessie sobered
briefly at the thought.

If the smell hadn’t given it away, the
yellowing wallpaper stood testament to the fact that this little
dive was one of the few havens remaining for smokers. It was
crowded, but not claustrophobically so. It was more of a bustling
atmosphere. A jukebox sat across from the counter, and from it
Janis Joplin was reminiscing about Bobby McGee.

“Whatchya’ drinkin’?” a waitress called to
them before they had even found a seat.