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“Shit, fuck…” Dean drives deeper and the waves continue. “Oh, that’s beautiful.” He plants deep and his body rocks with his own release. Grunts of pleasure fill the air and I pull him close.
He breaths out, “Beautiful, my love.”
His love.
8
Dean
Morning comes and I see heaven on earth. Rolling over, there’s an angel that the devil in me relished in last night. But it was more than just ravaging of her body, it was of her soul too. My soul and hers bound together, and I never want it torn apart.
Similarly, I never want out of this bed but to have a future with my cherub, I have to do this. I just don’t know what this new gig is and that concerns me. But do I have a choice?
Sliding out from under the sheets, I’m careful not to wake Kenzie. I dress quietly and scribble a note for when she wakes, leave a small bundle of cash with it. I grimace at the way it looks, like I’m paying her for our love making. I add a P.S. for good measure.
Kenz,
Stay put, there’s a diner across the street if you’re hungry. I’ve got some business to take care of and then we’re out of here. If I’m not back by night, take the money and get back home. I’ll find you.
I love you.
-Dean
P.S. the money isn’t what it looks like ;-)
Before I can go,I lean down, brushing a lock of hair from her sweet face. I might wake her but it’s worth the risk. I brush my lips to her forehead, closing my eyes.
God, I know I haven’t always been good, but hear me out… Let me keep this angel.
I lock the motel door behind me, keys jingling in my hands. I’ll be a joke in this old car, but maybe it’ll give them more reason to let me go. As I grab the door handle the hair on the back of my neck stands up. My body goes tense and I look around wildly.
“That’s weird,” I mutter. It feels as if someone’s watching me.
A quick scan shows no cops in the area and I settle down. I’m not doing anything illegal, so why am I so jumpy? To shake my nerves, I peel out of the parking lot, giving the old beater a run for its money. The sooner this is all over, the better.
I stop for a coffee, hoping the jolt of caffeine will help me get through this morning. Every part of me wants to go back and crawl into bed with Kenzie and blow this whole charade off. Tig doesn’t own me, even if he thinks he does.
But in ten minutes, I’m parked and the old chop shop is just like I left it yesterday. Some things don’t change. I barely tasted the outside world and they’re reeling me back in.
With a paper cup of ninety-nine cent coffee in hand, I enter back into the world I thought I put behind me. They’re all there too, waiting for me. It’s eerie, like they knew I was coming.
That prickle I felt before comes back like a Mack truck, my instincts firing on all cylinders. They knew I was in town. I hope it’s because I’m predictable. But if they knew I was here…Do they know Kenzie is here too?
“Prodigal son returns!” hollars out to me from the rafters above.
“Oh, looks like Mr. Too-Good-For-Shoes,” another taunt comes from beneath a car, as a grease monkey slides out from under it.
“It’s ‘goody-two-shoes’, Mike,” I correct him, rolling my eyes.
I have a persona amongst these people. I’m not myself. I’m a hardened shell of steel. No one gets under my hood.
No one but Kenz.
“Quiet down!” A shout comes from the back stairwell. Tig. Domineering both in stature and in nature. He owns the whole operation. It’s his shop, but it’s my life. I don’t owe him anymore.
I know I keep saying the phrase over and over. I guess I just need to make him understand it.
“My man,” he greets me warmly, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, shaking me. “It’s good to have you back.”
