Junk Love, page 4
“Classic spy move.”
“It was pitch black, so all you could see was headlights.” Cora sighed. “Apparently, she and the stalker are besties now. When I found her barefoot earlier, she said she’d talked to him in a cave and he told her to take off her shoes, so she did. They were expensive shoes.”
“Lucky stalker.”
“If you see an imaginary man in Mephistos…”
The stubble around his smile brightened it. “If you’re a fugitive, I’ll have to turn you in.”
“I wished the FBI would track us down. I’d take a ride, even to—” Her heel didn’t tell her brain it was being invaded until the thing cut deep. She screeched like nails on a chalkboard and doubled over the walking stick, dangling her freshly stabbed foot.
Jacob held her shoulder. “Keep that up, okay? Hold still.”
A yelp slipped out with whatever had been in there. When she shuddered, her arm with the walking stick buckled.
“Let’s get you off those.” He squeezed her shoulders. “You okay for a sec?” Once he set down his backpack, camera bag, and tripod, he said, “I’m a police officer,” and raised his palm to swear. “Not FBI. Mountaindale P.D.”
“I’m from Mountaindale, too. We aren’t close to home, are we?” Cora swayed, so he braced her arms again.
“Home’s a few hours north. Piggyback?” He looked super fit, but she had smelled like a zoo the last time she had squatted to pee.
“I’m afraid I’d break your back.”
“Gym membership’s finally paying off. Leave the stick.”
“What if your camera gets stolen?” She let him take the socks. “I’d feel terrible.”
“Theft by invisible man? I’d file a report. Maybe we’d get those shoes back.” When he winked, close, she flushed. “Easy paycheck for the sketch artist.” He crouched in front of her.
Cora hovered her swollen hand over his giant shoulder.
“You’ll need to lose the stick.”
Thunk.
“Here,” he said, and wrapped her arm around his neck. “Just don’t choke me.”
Her body pressed against his back, and she didn’t have time to process all the ways it felt wrong before he stood, and she had to cling harder. Even with her thighs.
Blushing and glad he couldn’t see, she said, “I found campers not too far from here this morning, but I don’t think they’d steal your stuff if they came this way. They were nice.”
“They didn’t help you?”
“No, they were a big help. They tried to be.”
“Not following.”
“I’m sorry. I just—I don’t know where to start.”
“Try three days ago.”
“Julie got the car stuck above the stream, high-centered on a mound we couldn’t dig down.” Her bare feet passed over the rusty dirt as if she were a ghost. “We tried to hike out and hit a dead end, like a cul-de-sac in the rock, so we slept under the stars. Then we had to backtrack to the car the next day. We slept there the second night. This morning she told me to stay put. She said she was going to climb a hill to see better and find a way out, that she could go faster without me.”
Jacob veered toward a rocky bank.
“My shoes sucked for climbing. I waited, but when she wasn’t back when she said she would be, I followed the road out to try to find help.”
“Why didn’t you do that in the first place?”
“Right? That’s what I wanted to do when we couldn’t push the car free. But Julie said the stalker was waiting there. She wouldn’t come. She said we had to find another way out.”
He tramped up the ridge.
Cora clung tighter. “I couldn’t just leave her.” But she had left her finally after calling and calling with no response. “When I was on the trail, I heard voices and found the campers.” Seeing that pickup truck and the yellow tent had been the best thing ever. “They gave me grapefruit soda and sandwiches and drove me back to our car. Julie got back when they were tying their pickup to our rental car to pull us off the mound.”
Ahead, parked sensibly beside an ATV trail, was an old white SUV. The orange dust clung to its creamy body.
“Did she overpower them and tie them up? That would be the Sheriff, not the feds.”
She smiled. “At first, driving away from them, I thought we were good. I had the map and her sandwich. Julie said I shouldn’t have eaten mine, that it was probably poisoned.”
It hurt picturing that again: sitting beside her sister, realizing that Julie hadn’t joined her back in reality. She should have hurled herself out of the moving car and run back to the campers. But her ride was here now.
“Prepare for landing,” he said, stopping beside the angelic off-road instrument of salvation.
Cora planted her hand on its fender to make her wretched descent. “At a fork in the trail, she turned the opposite way he told us to go.”
He opened the door. “You okay there?”
“Mm-hm.” Standing hurt more than before, and she was tempted to climb into the seat while he rattled around in the back. Her taut ankles were ready to pop like balloons—ironic given all the pricked holes in her feet.
“Here.” He wrapped a gray blanket over her shoulders. “I’m going to pick you up, okay?”
“I can—” she started, then gasped as she took a step.
“Do you always have trouble accepting help?”
Speechless, dazed, throbbing in pain—instead of answering, she shivered.
“I’m picking you up.” Then he deposited her on the cushioned seat, set a second, folded blanket on the dash and patted it. After she eased her feet onto it, the seat back jerked, reclining. “Sorry. That okay?” When she nodded, he slammed the door and said, “Be right back.”
In the moment of quiet, she relished the elevation of her feet. But the sight of her ankles, bloated and cracked like damaged pottery…
“Kitchen’s closed.” Jacob smiled through the open window. “Best I could do.” Three plastic water bottles formed a pyramid in his hand. He gave her one; the other two went on the roof before he held out two granola bars.
“These look incredible.” She took the slick, bumpy things. “Thanks so much!”
Her swollen sausage fingers failed to twist off the bottle cap, so he took over.
“Thanks.”
“Here.” He shook a pill bottle over her palm. “Ibuprofen. It’ll help with the pain and swelling.”
“Thank you.” But the thing sitting there was an oval white tablet. Not Advil or the generic brand her mom bought sometimes, which were both brownish.
As Jacob crouched to the dusty earth and clacked open a neon orange plastic toolbox, she rolled it over: Motrin 600.
That made sense. She popped it in her mouth, took a swig, and closed her eyes. The sounds of ripping paper, crinkling, and then swishy shaking water weren’t enough to tempt them open.
Click. A switchblade, close.
Cora knew she shouldn’t run, but her pulse ticked up like she should consider it. He took the weird tinted water to the hood where he hammered down onto the water bottle, jostling the SUV, then returned with the knife in one hand and the bottle in the other.
“This might sting.” His fingertips were bloody orange. “Betadine antiseptic. Quick rinse before we wrap your feet.” Shaking his head, he frowned at the granola bar. “You better eat something. We’ll do this after the pain pill kicks in.”
After she crinkled one open, peanut butter goo melted from the oat brick, coating her tongue and yielding starchy, hearty goodness, then subsided into crunching echoes. The back door thumped closed, and Jacob returned, gripping shoulder straps.
“I’m off. Get my gear, maybe pick a fight with a boogeyman. If your sister shows up, tell her that her stalker friend said to sit tight.”
Her feet throbbed while she watched him leave, toting a bulky, black backpack. Faint metallic noises clinked like fading jingle bells as he trudged away.
CORA
Saturday, December 19, 2015
“I can’t compete with that.” Walsh leaned back from his empty plate. “Did this guy save your sister, too?”
“He was part of the search party that did the next day.”
“Cool.”
Cora laughed, looking at all her food. “I never talk this much.”
“My plan worked. So did you and this Jacob stay in touch?”
“We wanted to send him a thank-you present, but his business card went through the wash. When we called Mountaindale Police Department, they said a Jacob Daniels used to work there, but he’d retired.”
“He was older?”
“Not that old. I might have gotten his last name wrong—I only saw it once—but they didn’t have any other Jacobs there either.”
“Are you done? Scrabble?”
“Sure.”
Cora picked up her plate and teacup and followed him around the island. Her skin crawled like the desert sun all over again; he probably thought she was crazy.
When he turned from the far side of the kitchen, she was afraid to meet his eyes. They were sweet, though—intimate—and his smile tugged her heart like a secret handshake. Off-balance, her grip on the delicate saucer relaxed, and the cup slipped off. Her gasp met shattering porcelain, then quiet.
“I’m so sorry!”
“I thought you were Irish, not Greek.” Smiling, he picked up his empty plate and nodded to the fireplace. “You’re supposed to throw plates, though, right?”
“I’m Spanish,” Cora mumbled, feeling dumb for correcting him. “I’m so sorry.”
Walsh shrugged. “Accidents happen. But if you don’t stop looking like you ran over my dog, I’m going to drop this.” He held the dish over the tile.
“What? No! That won’t help!”
“We’ll be even.”
“No!”
He pointed a circling finger at her face with one hand and extended the plate with the other.
“I can’t help my face! It was your mom’s. Come on.” Trying to step over the broken porcelain, she secured the dish from his hand and set it behind him. “I’m sorry—”
When she turned, she had just a moment before he closed in, reached around her head, and kissed her.
CORA
Wednesday, December 23, 2015
“What do you think?” Aiden clicked the mouse on his bedroom desk and opened another photo of Belltown Suites. In this one, the picture window in the modern white living room offered a view of the Space Needle.
It felt like an insult—like he was trying to remind her he was temporary, that the last five days had only been a fling and that she should be a good sport about it. Cora didn’t want to be a good sport. She wanted to get off his lap and get out of there.
“It’s nice.” Leaning forward, she swiped the empty mug from his desk.
“I can keep looking if you don’t like this one. You’ll visit, right?”
Her heart twitched. Why was he doing this? She shifted her weight to her feet, but Aiden squeezed his arm around her.
“I’ll pay for half your plane tickets.” Finally, he released her. “Who am I kidding? I’ll pay the whole thing.” He stood with her, taking her free hand. “I could invest in a private jet?”
Cora still wanted to get out, but she studied his face instead.
“You’re right,” he said. “I can’t afford a jet. You know…you’d be helping me out if you came to Seattle a little early. Do you have summer plans yet?”
A horrible suspicion clouded everything: he was reading her mind, telling her what she needed to hear to fall for him. She already had, but it wasn’t too late. At this point, she could dust herself off like all the times she scraped her knees as a kid. She would have to put on her own Band-Aids because she wasn’t about to confess to her mom that she hadn’t been completely honest about where she was spending all her waking hours during her Christmas break.
Cora couldn’t breathe, not with Aiden offering a future that probably wouldn’t happen. Castles in the sky aren’t that appealing for someone with a fear of heights.
“I’m a one-day-at-a-time kind of girl.” She withdrew her hand and cupped it around the mug.
“No, you’re not.”
Being known felt warm and wonderful but also dangerous as if she were a frog in a beaker of water coming to a slow boil. Time to get out. Politely.
“It’s beautiful.” Before she could say something about meeting for coffee when she came to Seattle in the fall, an image of Aiden making out with someone else on the sleek white couch drove her to the stairs.
“Cora,” he called.
While she pattered down the slick steps in her stocking feet, she ran her hand along the wall.
“Hey.” He followed her into the kitchen.
She rinsed her mug in the sink.
“I knew that might freak you out a little, but I didn’t think you’d be mad.” He waited by the island.
“I’m not mad.”
“Right.”
After putting her mug in the dishwasher, she scanned the floor for her shoes.
“Not mad, huh?”
“I’m not.” She met his eyes to prove it.
“Then you won’t mind me hugging you.” He stepped closer. “Before you go.” Once his arms surrounded her, he put his chin on her head. “I thought you were staying for dinner, but whatever you have planned is fine. You do have your day planned, right, since you’re a one-day-at-a-time girl?”
Cora pulled away.
“Sorry,” he said, squeezing her snug again. “I’ll understand if you need to be somewhere else this summer. I’ll just miss you.”
“Please don’t.”
“What?”
“Who knows what you’ll want by this summer.”
“Me. I know.”
She sighed.
“You’re the one with the knowing-what-you-want problem.” He took her hand. “We could work on that.” Stepping with her to the kitchen drawer, he fanned take-out menus across the counter. “What do you want for dinner? Let’s start there.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Okay.” He leaned against the counter.
“What do you want?”
Aiden beamed and wrapped her in a hug again. “You.”
Her head was grateful for the support of his chest, but the rest of her was ready to let go at any moment. Any minute now. He wasn’t letting go. His hands weren’t moving, and he wasn’t trying to kiss her. His stillness infected her. Her body betrayed her first, melting into him. Then her mind started in: He actually cares about me. Another part of her fought back: Or this is a ploy to seduce me.
“You know what helps overthinking?” Releasing her, he loped to the walk-in pantry and reappeared with wine and a square clear bottle. “A little reset courtesy of Mr. Ethyl. Wine is the classier option, but vodka’s more efficient.”
He was only holding them out, displaying their labels, but he may as well have hit her over the head with one. She backed up a step. The five days of making out had been working up to this: convince her they had a future and get her drunk.
“I have to drive,” she said, heading for the closet. “You go ahead. I should get home anyway.” She tensed at his steps behind her, but he was past her when she turned.
“I’m sorry.” He patted the couch. “Come sit with me for a minute?”
Cora draped her coat over the shorter section and sat adjacent to him instead.
“I shouldn’t have said that.” Aiden’s smile was sad. “You don’t have a knowing-what-you-want problem. Although sometimes it’s like pulling teeth to find out. I need to grab something upstairs. Will you wait here?”
She nodded.
When he came back, he sat closer. “Here.” Papers—her philosophy papers—were on her lap. “I kept copies. Please don’t freak out.”
The scrawls in the margins that used to be red were gray now. But there were more notes in blue that she had never seen before: a question mark, a smiley face, an arrow with a note at its end:
Ask Cora about this.
“It hasn’t been just a week for me.”
“Five days.” She stared at the photocopied sheet.
His chuckle was a little tight. “Counting days, huh? Anyway, I’m sorry if this feels fast. I shouldn’t have sprung summer on you yet. No pressure.” He rested his hand on her arm. “Okay?”
As Cora flipped pages, they were too blurry to read.
“Please don’t think I’m a serial killer.” His voice had a cringe in it. “I just love your brain. It was hard waiting to ask you out until I wasn’t your T.A. You can have those back if you want, but if you’re going to run out the door screaming, let me give you your Christmas present first.”
“We agreed not to buy presents for each other!”
“I didn’t buy you anything. Are we okay?” He pulled her to stand. The papers slid off her lap.
She considered what to say, but she was off the hook since he kissed her. His kiss was soft like their first kiss in his kitchen, marking a beginning.
In a corner of her consciousness, Cora acknowledged the game she had been playing with Aiden as an unwitting participant. Like kids with toy blocks, she would build a defensive wall and then watch as he came and knocked it down, surprised by her delight. She didn’t want to play that anymore.
“I need to run upstairs,” he said. “Want to come with me?”
Her mind was jumping to conclusions; her body was wishfully thinking. If they spent more time in his room, would they have sex? They always made out on the couch, or lying on the rug by the fire, or standing in the kitchen.
Her only point of reference was her boyfriend from youth group. The day they made out in his bed before his parents got home, he asked if he should get a condom. She got mad and asked what he was talking about since he knew she was waiting until marriage.
