Cinderella
Copyright 2008-2010 Rachael Ross all rights reserved. Intended for adults only. [email protected]
Cinderella - Book One
by T.S. Severe
Chapter Seven
"Here you go!" Bambi was smiling. "A Bud Light and one champagne cocktail…Anything else I can get for you?"
"That's fine. Thanks." Mike reached into his suit, navy blue today and looking a little more respectable than what he'd been wearing the other night. In fact, the man himself looked clean and fresh. He'd shaved his face and combed his hair and while he wasn't handsome in the classic sense, Mike was an attractive man nonetheless. It was his maturity I liked, the experience worn on his his face and the strength and confidence it implied. Mike was a survivor.
"Thank you, sir," Bambi said, watching as he laid a fifty dollar bill on her tray and she wasn't going to be bringing back his change, what little of it there was.
"Bye, Bambi." I giggled as she gave me a look, expressing her curiosity. The man wasn't typical of our usual customers and I gave her a tiny shrug with my eyes as I picked up my champagne. I drank it slowly, as if I didn't have a care in the world.
We were sitting in one of the reserved booths at the Brookline Members Club and I had no idea why Cicero was there. I mean, he wanted to see me, obviously, but I didn't know exactly what was on his mind and so I wasn't saying a word. He knew some of my secrets, but I was praying he didn't know all of them. I'd seen Mike kill a man and that capacity for violence frightened me, much more than the man himself, but I had to find out how much he really knew. That was the real reason I was sitting there.
"Nervous?" Mike asked me.
"Should I be?" I wondered, glancing to the right and seeing Jake's reassuring presence.
Jake was one of the bouncers and he always kept a close eye on me, just because some guys didn't like surprises like the one between my legs. Ray was there too, standing at the entrance, and Eric was behind the bar, and this was my place. I was safe inside the club and Mike was the outsider. After my initial surprise at seeing him, there was a calm inside me that I wouldn't have expected. Much like stealing 12 million dollars, this was a new situation that should have terrified me…But it didn't and I have no explanation for that.
"That's a nice outfit," Mike said, ignoring my question and taking a sip of his drink. "You look good all dressed up."
I was wearing a one piece mini-dress in emerald spandex. It barely covered my body and hid none of my charms, being tight enough to prove I wasn't wearing anything but a skimpy thong beneath it. I'd borrowed the dress from Heather with a kiss and promise to let her borrow something of mine someday. I could well imagine what she would want. Gina had done my makeup, as I was still learning the details of being a woman, and she was very good at it. If I was gorgeous just being myself, the girl's artistry had made me truly stunning. Intense physical beauty can be extremely intimidating and even a jaded man like Mike was having a hard time looking into my deep blue eyes.
"Thanks," I said softly, bringing my eyes back to his without turning my head and he blinked as if I'd struck him.
"Where's Robert Patterson, Cindy?" Mike recovered quickly and I drew a soft sigh, offering the man a playful pout as if disappointed that he could somehow sit with me and ask about someone else.
"Who?" I asked innocently after making him wait.
"Don't play games," Mike said.
"You know…" I practically purred, "…I'm supposed to be talking you into fucking me right now."
"Cindy…"
"How hard would that be, I wonder?" I took a deep breath, lifting my barely contained breasts and letting it out slowly as I reached for his thigh.
"Robert Patterson," Mike said. His cold, black eyes were staring at me, but I was ignoring them, looking down as I ran my right hand up his trousers and towards his lap.
"I haven't seen him," I said, biting my bottom lip and looking up. My hand found Mike's crotch and I felt his body stiffen as I pressed my fingers against the semi-hard cock trapped there.
"Since?" Mike asked me, shifting slightly and I was learning how to lie finally, the way a magician does it. Misdirection and illusion, and a lot of truth thrown in for good measure. People see what they want to see, they hear what they want to hear; it's human nature and as any cheating wife can tell you, the best lies are often those a man will tell himself.
"Wednesday," I answered, massaging Mike's hidden cock and feeling it thicken noticeably.
"You spent the night with him," Mike said, trying to ignore my touch and a lot of men would've mistaken it for the crux of my seduction. Physical contact was just one of my weapons, however, and a man like Mike would understand that all of his senses were under assault, but it was his heart that lay most vulnerable, I thought. He wasn't protecting it very well.
"Did I?" I pursed my lips, shrugging my left shoulder. I was reaching deep between his thighs, digging against his balls with my blood red fingernails. Scratching the man's growing itch.
"Tell me about it," Mike said.
"Buy us a bottle of champagne," I smiled back, happy that he only thought I'd slept with Robert. How Mike knew that, I wasn't sure, but it wouldn't have been hard for him to find out in any case.
"That sounds expensive," he almost smiled.
"I'm not worth it?" I was pouting again and I let go of his cock just to punish him. "It'll look suspicious if you don't."
"You have to earn it," Mike said. "Just tell me about Patterson."
"You're mean," I said, giving the man my eyes and he held them for a second, but then he looked away. "I want champagne."
I gave Bambi a little wave as she stood at the bar and Mike wasn't going to stop me. There were certain rules and one of them was that a girl like me costs money. One drink wasn't going to buy much more than ten minutes of my time and Mike knew it. A $300 bottle of Dom Perignon would buy him a lot more and so the man had little choice but to indulge me.
"Robert was looking for a date," I said, lifting fresh champagne while Mike poured his own glass. We didn't need a toast.
"A date?" he asked me. "You were seeing him socially?"
"Socially?" I smiled. "Were you really a cop? No. I was seeing him professionally."
"Okay." Mike narrowed his eyes. "You're an escort."
"Isn't it obvious?" I giggled softly. "Don't look so shocked, Michael."
"You just didn't seem…" he shook his head. "Never mind. He met you here?"
"No," I said, sipping more champagne. "Brookline is strictly low rent. I part time for an agency. It isn't bad."
"Which one?"
"New York Confidential. I'd give you a card, but I don't want to embarrass you." I leaned close, dropping my voice to a whisper, "We're terribly expensive."
"I bet," he sighed and I shifted slightly, letting the spandex ride up my crossed thighs as I turned towards him. "When did you…"
"My turn," I shook my head, getting a curious look. "How did you know I had Robert's phone?"
Mike seemed to consider that for a moment, perhaps wondering just how much he wanted to tell me. It was a fun little game we were playing, but so long as I seemed to be telling the truth, a man like Mike would want to do the same…Or so I hoped. Whatever had happened to him since Nine-Eleven, he'd been a good guy once and he still possessed that quality, that strength of character that I'd found so attractive the first time I'd met him, and did again, I must admit.
"I saw it on the bookcase when I went to your apartment," Mike shrugged. "So I took a peek…"
"While I was in the bathroom?" I frowned at him. "That isn't very nice."
"I was curious." Mike tipped his glass and took a drink. "And when you gave me his wife's Rolex…"
"That wasn't too smart of me was it?"
"Probably not," he agreed.
"I didn't steal it," I said with a careless shrug. "Robert gave it to me."
"His phone too?"
"Yeah," I agreed. "He said he wouldn't be needing it."
"Didn't that seem a little odd?"
"Getting a phone?" I laughed. "You wouldn't believe some of the things men give me."
"Okay." Mike actually smiled at that.
"He said, that way he'd always have my number," I sighed, smiling at my fond remembrance. "It was kind of sweet, actually."
"Did he say anything else?" Mike asked. "Like why he didn't need his phone?"
"Robert was going on vacation and…"
"A vacation? Did he say where?"
"No." I wrinkled my nose and reached for my glass. "Men say a lot of things, making promises and all of that. It's all pillow talk. None of it means anything."
"What did he promise you, Cindy?"
"He said he was getting a lot of money," I said. "Once Robert had it, he'd take me away."
"I see," Mike nodded. "But you didn't believe him."
"Everybody wants to take me away," I said with a lyrical sigh. "But I'm still here."
"Do you think he loves you?" Mike asked and I looked up sharply, not expecting that question, and my look was enough to put some color in the man's cheeks.
"Does it make you jealous?" I wondered, teasing Mike with a slow smile.
"What else did Patterson give you?" he continued, ignoring my little jibe.
"You mean the jewelry?" I giggled. "Robert gave me a lot of it, but I'm not giving it back. Is that why you're here, Mike?"
"No," he said, reaching for the bottle and drawing it from the ice bucket.
"So…" I asked him. "Why did you lie to me?"
"What?"
"You said you would help me," I said. "Remember? You promised."
"Yeah," Mike nodded as he finished refilling our glasses. "Things just got a little complicated, that's all."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I want to help you, but…"
"But?"
"I need to find Patterson too and you're the only lead I've got."
"Is that why Gloria introduced us?" I asked him. "Is she in on this…this…thing? Whatever it is you're doing?"
"How did you find her?"
"I asked you first," I smiled and I was touching the man again, finding the temptation almost irresistible for some reason.
"Pure luck," Mike said with a shrug, looking down at my hand as I pressed it against his stomach.
"I don't believe in luck," I whispered, leaning closer and moving my hand lower, slipping my fingers inside the waistband of his trousers. He had a wonderfully hard stomach, the man's physique belying his age, and I was enjoying my explorations.
"I do," Mike said and we looked at each other for several long seconds. "Gloria tosses me work every now and then. She likes to try and keep me out of trouble."
"Why?" I slid my hand inside his pants, inside Mike's briefs, and found his warm cock agreeably hard.
"Ummm…" Mike smiled, shifting slightly as I wrapped my fingers around him.
"Tell me…" I sang with a soft giggle, squeezing his penis somewhat awkwardly.
"She was my first partner," Mike said, putting his arm around me finally and I gave him a happy sigh, settling into the crook of his left arm. I felt something there, something hard beneath his armpit, and I knew what it was.
"Gloria was a cop?"
"Yeah," Mike nodded, bringing his right hand to my bare thigh. "She was once. How did you end up in her office?"
"Robert told me about her," I said. "He knew I wanted out and he said maybe Gloria could help."
"Out?"
"Out of all this. Out of my life," I told him, deciding to remove Mike's cock from his pants. "Once you're in it…People change, you know?"
"Yeah," Mike breathed, watching as I opened his trousers and pulled his erection free. He was large, much like I remembered, seven or even eight inches long, and nice and thick. This was the cock I'd given my virginity to and I stroked it almost lovingly, remembering how good the man had felt inside me.
"I just want to start over," I whispered. "I want to be someone else, Mike."
"And you have no idea where Patterson went?" he asked me, sliding his hand up my thigh, across my flat tummy to find my left breast beneath his palm.
"No," I sighed, leaning into the man's strong body while I jerked him off with both hands. "Why are you looking for him?"
"I was babysitting," Mike told me, staring at my tits while he squeezed them, slipping his fingers under one of the thin straps and pushing my dress off my shoulder.
"What's that mean?" I wondered, rubbing my fingers over the head of his cock. I felt Mike's precum warm and slippery as I traced it around the pronounced ridge of his glans, tickling the underside with a bare touch of my fingernails.
"I was just watching him." Mike had freed my left breast and now he was kissing my bare shoulder, holding me tightly with his left arm behind my back.
"Watching?" I laughed lightly and turned my head so that I could kiss his cheek and whisper into his ear. "Why?"
"His wife's father," Mike explained between kisses as he worked his way down to my swollen nipple. "He wanted me to keep tabs on the guy."
"Ohhhh…" I sighed, biting Mike's earlobe while I pulled on his cock, feeling the smooth skin sliding over the muscle beneath. "And now that Robert's gone, he wants you to find him?"
"Yeah," Mike agreed and then he was drawing my burning nipple into his mouth, nursing on it greedily.
"Hmmm…I love the way that feels," I breathed, grasping Mike's penis at the base and pulling my hand upward slowly. He was hard as steel by then, enough so that I could feel the man's pulse beneath my fingers.
"Let's go someplace else," he whispered, thumbing my right nipple through the spandex struggling to contain it. Mike was lighting a fire inside me, much as he had the night we'd made love. It wasn't just physical either. There was a desire within me that was much deeper than the wonderful pleasure his attentions promised.
"I can't," I said, shivering as he kissed the top of my breast. "I'm working."
"Is that what this is?" Mike asked, lifting his head and sitting up. He was frowning and his eyes had softened. Even in the shadows I could suddenly see the difference, the humanity revealed when he let his guard down. I was seeing the man he'd been in that old newspaper clipping, frozen in time with the woman he'd loved.
"Mike," I looked at him, neither smiling nor frowning, not even acting anymore. I just looked at him and tried to decipher what I was feeling.
"Come with me," he said and it was an invitation to more than mere sex. "Please."
"Why?" I asked him, barely getting the breath out of my lungs.
"You know why," he told me.
"Say it," I said, feeling my heart racing then. I was trembling with adrenaline and my fear was gone, replaced with something else. Something confusing that I struggled to hide.
"I…" Mike paused and shook his head and found a different reason. "This place isn't safe for you anymore."
"You don't believe me?" I asked him, still holding his erection in my fist, but neither of us was moving.
"I do," he said. "But there are other people looking for you, Cindy. I didn't have a choice…" Mike narrowed his eyes, looking inward for a second. "I didn't know."
"Yes, you did," I told him. "You knew. That's why you called me, isn't it? That's why you warned me last night."
"They're at your apartment," Mike nodded. "Waiting for you."
"Who?"
"I don't know for sure," Mike said, searching my face. "I'm not the only one looking for Patterson."
"But you told them where to find me." I frowned.
"I told Carlisle," Mike looked down. "I was doing my job. What I was paid to do. If I could change it…"
"You told them." I shook my head. "Did you give them my picture too? Did you tell them I have a dick? Did you tell them how you fucked me, Mike?"
"Shhh…Stop…No." Mike was shaking his head as well, holding my shoulders. "I took your picture, yeah, but I kept them. Nobody knows what you look like, Cindy."
"Only where I live." I swallowed hard, knowing that much of my sudden anger was just frustration. Mike had protected me, so much as he could, I believed that much of what he said.
"Where you live, yeah," Mike agreed. "But that's all. He doesn't know about the other night, I promise, and I didn't tell him about this place. I told Carlisle I had a lead on where you work. That once I knew for sure, I'd give him a call."
"And now you've changed your mind?" I asked him. "Or are you supposed to get me outside? Make it easy for them? What's the plan, Mike?"
"To get you someplace safe," he said, looking back up and he was his old self, his eyes grown cold and distant, but not for me. "I'm not going to let them hurt you."
He could have been lying, but I'd seen the look in his eyes. I'd heard the tender sincerity in his voice and it spoke to me more than any of Mike's words. He loved me, that was obvious, and I had to trust the man because I was falling in love with him. That reluctant admission was warm and welcome, a relief to my heart and the ache inside.
"Evelyn," I breathed, remembering her suddenly as a wave of guilt filled me. I'd forgotten about her, somehow, and I frowned at the conflict being with Mike aroused.
"Can you slip out the back?" Mike hadn't heard me and he was glancing around the club. "Cindy?"
"What? Yeah," I nodded, realizing Mike was right. I had to leave. "I think so, um…"
"I'll take care of the bill and get the car, okay?" Mike replaced my hands with his, putting his cock away. "Just go out the back and wait for me there."
"Where are we going?" I wondered, but my mind was on Evelyn. I was wondering how I could have forgotten her so easily.
"I know a place," Mike said. "Don't worry about it. Fix your dress now and don't say anything. Don't talk to anyone."
"Alright." I nodded, pushing my thoughts away with a deep breath. I couldn't help my feelings. I hadn't asked for any of this and if I had to make a choice…I chose not to. I'd worry about Evelyn later, like the coward I was.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"You're going to be my new problem child, aren't you?" Molly sighed, looking up from the leather sofa where she was sitting.
"I just don't feel very good," I told her, feeling like a wayward child in front of her mother. "I'm sorry."
"Okay." She gave me a small smile, less sympathetic than amused, I thought. "Go home and rest your tummy."
"Thanks, Molly," I said with a grateful smile.
"But you owe me now, Cindy." Molly pursed her lips, plainly admiring the way Heather's dress was clinging greedily to every curve of my body. "I'm going to collect tomorrow."
"Is that a promise?" I teased her and the woman laughed, waving me out of Mr. Goldman's office. I think it was more hers anyway.
I gathered my things from the dressing room, not bothering to change clothes. Heather would understand, I thought as I pulled on my leather jacket. I rolled up the jeans and t-shirt I'd worn in along with my boots, tucking the small bundle under my arm and grabbing my purse. I'd left everything else at Eric's place, the clothes Evelyn and I had packed, and our toothbrushes and such. Most of my jewelry was still there as well, except for the pieces I really didn't want to lose, like my tennis bracelet. I was wearing that, since the emeralds matched my dress perfectly, but the rest of my jewelry…I really hoped I could trust Eric and I thought I could, so long as we weren't in bed.
The back door was a fire escape, but it didn't have an alarm or anything. It could only be opened from the inside anyway and I took a deep breath, pausing before I left the club. I didn't know for certain if Mike would be waiting for me alone out there and there would be no going back if he wasn't. I was trusting him. Again. After knowing that he'd lied to me, that he'd worked against me, I was still willing to let him help me. That was how confused my feelings for him were.
"Do you know what you're doing?" I asked myself softly and then I pushed open the heavy door and looked around the empty alley.
I was halfway to the street when Mike's car pulled up, stopping at the mouth of the alley, he leaned across the passenger seat and opened the door of his old Plymouth sedan. It was okay. He was alone and I hadn't realized my heart had been beating so quickly until I was sitting in the car with him.
"What took you so long?" he wondered. "I had to drive around the block."
"I was fixing my hair," I replied with a smile and he grunted at that, taking a quick look out of the corner of his eye. I caught it though and I felt warm all over as I tugged at the hem of my short skirt.
"We'll go to Brooklyn," Mike explained after a minute or two. "I got a place there. You'll be okay."
"For how long?" I wondered.
"A couple days," Mike shrugged. "Once Patterson turns up, everything will go back to normal. Nobody's gonna care about you anymore."
"Can't you just tell them that I don't know anything?"
"Yeah," Mike agreed. "I'll tell Carlisle I talked to you, tell him what you told me."
"But?"
"But…I dunno," Mike shrugged. "He's acting a little different."
"Different?" I looked at him.
"Desperate," Mike said. "Like I said, I'm not the only one hunting this guy."
"Or me." I sighed at that unfortunate truth and looked out the window.
Traffic out of Manhattan was always bad, but today we seemed to be crawling. It did give me time to wonder who else would be looking for Robert. Probably Belinda had hired someone, I thought. Or maybe her Bad Daddy Clyde just wanted to impress his rich bitch girlfriend and kick Robert's ass once and for all. Or maybe that twelve million belonged to someone else, someone pushing Baron's buttons to get it back. I didn't care for that possibility very much.
"I didn't forget my promise either." Mike turned to look at me as we waited for a light to change.
"What do you mean?" I asked him, looking into his eyes and he shrugged.
"I got someone going through records right now," Mike said. "One of my sister's kids."
"In West Virginia?"
"Yeah," Mike smiled at me. "I gave him a map and some money, turned him loose. He's a smart kid, done some work for me before and I told him what we want."
"Thank you," I said, giving him the best smile I could find and I think it hit him hard.
"Jesus," Mike breathed slowly and then someone behind us was honking and Mike looked away. The light had turned green and we were holding up traffic.
"I should call Evelyn," I thought aloud, opening my purse.
"Your girlfriend?" Mike asked and I nodded.
"She works until six."
"No, turn that off," Mike told me, looking at my phone.
"What? Why?" I asked him. "I have to tell her where to find me."
"All the way off," he repeated. "Leave it that way. I'll find a phone booth."
"What are you talking about?" I almost smiled, but Mike was looking serious.
"Phones can be tracked," he told me. "They have a GPS function built into them."
"GPS?" I blinked at him and decided he was messing with me. "No way! It's just a phone. I'll keep the call short, okay?"
"Cindy," Mike frowned and the next thing I knew he'd grabbed the phone out of my hands.
"Mike! Hey!" I stared at the man.
"It doesn't matter if you call someone or not," Mike said, slipping my phone into his jacket. "As soon as you turn it on the phone sends a signal to the network, like checks in, you know?"
"Yeah so?" I made a face at him, feeling a little annoyed by his strange paranoia.
"So, the network knows where you are," Mike explained. "They said it was to help find people who called 9-1-1 or whatever."
"But it's really a government conspiracy, right?" I giggled. "Give me my phone, Mike. Please?"
"I don't know about the government," Mike shrugged, ignoring my outstretched hand. "But anyone with the right connections can get the information. All they need is your phone number."
"Even if that was true…" I rolled my eyes. "Baron Carlisle might be a greedy bastard, but he's not an arch-criminal, okay? He's not what's his name, Lex Luthor, he's just an asshole."
"What?" Mike looked at me, narrowing his eyes.
"What?" I smiled nervously. "You never heard of Lex Luthor?"
"You know Baron Carlisle?"
"Oh! Uh…" I licked my lips. "Sorta, yeah…He's Robert's father-in-law. The guy you work for, right?"
"Yeah," Mike nodded. "How do you know him?"
"From…" I was stuck for a second. "The club. I met him at the club before. He likes to come in sometimes, you know."
"Right."
Mike didn't say anything else and I just sat there, thinking that he didn't believe me. I hadn't really meant to talk about Baron at all, but the idea that he would somehow track me down through the secret GPS in Robert's celphone was crazy. My explanation was a good one though and could have easily been true, except I hadn't been working there long enough to actually meet the man. But Mike didn't know that, so maybe…I really hoped he believed me. And anyway, I thought, what difference could it possibly make how I knew the old man? Mike was probably unhappy that I was connected with Carlisle at all. I knew I was.
"Okay. Call your girlfriend," he said, putting the car in park outside a convenience store. "Tell her I'll pick her up at work."
"You're going to pick her up?"
"Yeah," Mike nodded. "I don't want you going anyplace and once she gets there…"
"She can't leave either?" I asked him, thinking Mike was a lot more paranoid than I gave him credit for.
"Better safe than sorry," Mike nodded. "And hey…Get me a roll of Tums while you're in there, huh?"
"Tums?" I laughed.
"Yeah, or Rolaids. I don't care," he said, fishing some money out of his pocket. "You're giving me an ulcer."
"That's cause I'm so hot!" I stuck out my tongue, snatched the five from his fingers, and slipped quickly out of the car.
Mike was a little strange, I'd decided, but I sorta liked the way he was worrying over me. It felt good, even if it was annoying, rather like Evelyn's jealousy in a weird way. I knew he was serious about keeping me safe and he was even willing to get Evelyn for me and keep her safe too. Some small part of me almost felt disappointed that Mike wasn't trying to keep me all for himself, but I was relieved as well. If it did come down to a choice between them, I'd have to stay with Evelyn. I realized that as soon as I was dialing the pay phone, feeling the rising excitement of just knowing I'd hear her voice.
"Fuck! I'm in love," I sighed, reading the number printed on the receipt for the clothes I'd bought. That was pretty handy and I'd giggled over it at the time, telling the girl I had her number now.
"W-What's that?" the clerk asked me with nervous interest, a young guy with long greasy hair under his greasy ball cap.
"I need some Tums," I said, giving him a barely polite smile and then my back. He was rubbing his dick while he stared at my ass, I was sure.
"Thanks," Mike said as I tossed a roll of Tums onto his lap and then he caught the look on my face. "What's wrong?"
"Evelyn didn't show up for work," I said, biting my bottom lip as I sat down in the car.
"She didn't call in or anything? What did they say?" Mike asked me and I shook my head.
"No. Her boss asked me if I knew where she was."
"Hmmm…" Mike frowned, looking down as he snapped the roll of antacids in half.
"She wouldn't miss work like that," I told him. "I know because I asked her to skip out on it this morning, but…
"Where else would she go?"
"Uh…" I shrugged. "Nowhere. Evelyn had classes this morning and then she was going straight to the store."
"How about where you guys stayed last night?"
"No," I shook my head. "She wouldn't go back there by herself. We stayed with a friend of mine, the bartender at work. She doesn't even have a key or anything.
"Would she go back to her apartment?"
"No way. I told her last night we had to leave," I said, feeling my anxiety grow. I felt like I'd lost a child at the mall or something.
"Think about it, Cindy." Mike grabbed my shoulder, giving me a squeeze through the leather jacket. "Would she go back to her apartment?"
"I don't know." I swallowed hard. "Ummm…Her books."
"Books?"
"For school." I closed my eyes. "We left them there, so…"
"She could have gone back for them this morning," Mike said with a frown. "Okay."
"But I told her not to," I said weakly.
"Hang on for a second," Mike said. "I'll be right back."
"Where are you going?" I asked, but he didn't say anything else. He just got out of the car and went into the convenience store.
It was a long wait for Mike to return, too long, and I was about to get out of the car when he reappeared. He ignored my questions, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot fast, like something was wrong.
"What is it Mike?" I looked at him, but the man's face was impassive, his jaw fixed and his black eyes staring straight ahead as he weaved through the dense traffic.
He turned this way and that, avoiding as much congestion as he could and even running a couple lights. We weren't exactly roaring down the road, but even thirty or forty miles an hour is a good clip through midday traffic. Mike sped up even more as we crossed the East River into Queens. I knew then where we were going, but I still kept hoping I was wrong. I hoped it was Mike just being paranoid again. Evelyn hadn't gone back to the apartment, she couldn't have, not after I'd warned that it was dangerous. After I'd told her everything.
Had she believed me though? That was the question in my head and the one I refused to answer honestly, even to myself.
"No," I said as Mike turned the last corner and I saw three police cars and an ambulance blocking the street.
There was a small crowd being held back by some cops in uniform and a guy in a suit was talking to the owner of the pawnshop. He was Evelyn's landlord and he shouldn't have been standing outside answering questions. I felt panic rising like bile in my throat and I was shaking my head. The scene became blurred with tears and all I could look at was that ambulance just sitting there. It wasn't doing anything. What did that mean? I had to fight to breath and I was reaching for the door handle, pulling on it before Mike had even stopped the car.
"Stay here," he said, stretching his arm across me and yanking my door shut again.
"No!" I gasped, grabbing at the handle again, but Mike used his arm to push me back hard into the seat, pinning me there.
"Don't get out of the car," he told me. "The cops get hold of you and we'll be answering questions for a week."
"What happened?" I blinked at him, barely able to get the words out and I had to wipe my eyes just to see him.
"I'm going to find out," Mike told me. "Just wait for me, Cindy. Don't get out of the car."
I watched Mike walk towards one of the cops holding the onlookers back, talking to him for a minute and pointing at one of the men in suits. There were two of them now, the second one coming out of the dark stairway that led to Evelyn's apartment. I tried to remember what Mike had told me, but all I could think of was Evelyn. I had to know she was okay. Whatever had happened here, it wasn't her. She was someplace else. At the library studying, or maybe she'd gone to Manhattan to find me at the club. Maybe she'd just missed me. Evelyn might be trying to call me right now and I opened my purse before I remembered that Mike had taken my phone.
He was talking to one of the plainclothesmen now, inside the cordoned off area, and I couldn't sit there any longer. I wiped my eyes again, taking a sharp breath through my snotty nose, and opened the door. I had to know what was going on. My stomach hurt. There was a hole inside me, a sharp ache like a knife in my guts. I couldn't breathe and I walked quickly in my heels, almost running, almost stumbling before one of the cops caught me by the arms, holding me back.
"You can't go in there," he said and I stared at him like he was crazy, not understanding what he meant at first.
"I'm with him…" I breathed, pointing at Mike with a trembling finger.
"You can't go in," the officer repeated.
"Mike!" I yelled, or sobbed more like as I felt ready to collapse. There was a stretcher coming out of the stairwell now, bumping clumsily against the wall as two attendants carried it. Someone was on it, but I couldn't see who. The body was covered up and I did fall then, but I don't remember hitting the ground.
"Don't move too much," Mike's soft voice seemed to wake me and he was touching my face. "You're okay."
"What?" I jerked up quickly, too quickly, and my vision darkened with a dizzying rush of blood.
"Lie down," Mike sighed, pushing me back gently and I realized I was in the back seat of his car, lying lengthwise on it with the passenger doors open.
"Where's Evelyn?" I asked him, begging the man to save her for me. I was crying again, like I'd never stopped, and my lips trembled. "Where is she, Mike?"
"I'm sorry," he whispered, stroking my face and his eyes were blue. Soft and caring and blue like the sky after the sun is gone.
"Nooo no no no…" I sobbed, wrapping my arms around my stomach and shutting my eyes and I was dying inside.
"Shhhh…" Mike was leaning over me, hugging me as I wept. I hit him with my fists, beating his arms and shoulders and then I just held him. My body was wracked with grief. My heart was being torn apart and I jerked and shivered in Mike's strong arms, clinging to the man and voicing my pain with a dull wail of despair.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"Tell me," I said.
"Cindy…" Mike frowned at me, but I wasn't going to be put off.
We were in Brooklyn, not at the office I knew he had there, but in a small basement apartment beneath an Italian bakery. The heady smell of baking bread permeated everything, but I was getting used to it. I was sitting on the only bed in the only bedroom, and Mike was sitting on a chair nearby. It was dark down there and an imitation Tiffany lamp burned on the nightstand beside me.
"I have to know," I said and I wasn't done crying, not yet, but I'd stopped for the moment at least.
"She didn't…suffer," Mike said reluctantly, turning his eyes away from my stare. "The apartment was tossed. Searched. And probably she walked in while they were doing it."
"This morning?" I asked, fighting to control my voice. I was still wearing Heather's dress, the spandex stretched tight as I hugged my knees to my breasts, rocking slightly as I sat there.
"That's what they think," Mike nodded. "Nobody noticed anything until some insurance guy found her door open."
"Insurance guy?" I blinked at him.
"Salesman," Mike nodded. "He was working the neighborhood and…"
"Did they…" I swallowed hard and started crying again. "Did they hurt her, Mike?"
"No," he said quickly, his voice momentarily strong before taking a deep breath. "It was quick. What happened. She…" he was shaking his head. "It was over quick, Cindy."
"Hold me," I whispered weakly, letting go of my legs so I could hug Mike as he joined me on the bed. "I'm so tired. It hurts so much."
"Come here," he said, pulling me so that I was lying down, on my side facing him.
"I miss her," I cried into his chest. "I love her."
"I know," Mike sighed, trying to comfort me.
"It's your fault," I told him.
"Yeah," Mike kissed my hair. "I know that too."
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
I woke up to what little sunlight the small windows high on the walls could provide. They were made of rippled glass and wires, long and narrow and overlooking nothing but the sidewalk outside as I stood on a chair and looked. Mike was gone, but I didn't know where. I was tempted to leave, but I had nowhere to go and I decided to cry instead.
Evelyn was dead and I'd killed her. I'd taken the money and that was why it had happened. Mike had told Baron Carlisle where I was staying, but it was clear to me that Mike hadn't planned on anyone getting hurt. He'd been looking for Robert and that had led to me. He'd done his job and whether he knew or only suspected that Baron intended to hurt me, Mike had warned me. He'd tried to stop it from happening. I owed him my life for that. Maybe. But I would have traded it for Evelyn's in an instant.
All I'd wanted was to get away. I'd been willing to forget Belinda and her father, to take my little revenge and disappear. Robert was gone and with him much of the anger and resentment over his poor treatment. I'd taken Belinda's jewelry out of spite, that was true, but the money? Cindy deserved a head start and I knew it was all dirty anyway. I'd been risking my neck for that money and taking it wasn't just revenge, it was compensation for being used and corrupted. And I would have given every penny to have Evelyn back in my arms.
I felt confused and guilty, hugging my pillow and wondering if I was crying for Evelyn or for myself. I had dark thoughts. Suicide seemed like a good idea. For a minute or an hour, I couldn't say, but the thought was in my head and I tried to imagine how good it would feel not to hurt inside ever again.
I tried to imagine what Evelyn would want. I closed my wet eyes and held my breath, trying to hear her voice. I was asking her, begging the girl to tell me what to do. Who should I hurt for this crime? Myself or Mike or Baron? All of us? None of us? Would she want me to let it go? I thought she would, a part of me, because Evelyn wasn't a bad person. She was so beautiful and full of life and she could never, ever imagine the things that were filling my head.
The bathroom was clean enough and it had a real tub. I filled it with hot water, undressing slowly. There was a bar of soap and that was all, no shampoo or toothpaste, nothing like that. A bar of ivory soap on the sink. There was a radio as well, an old one made of wood with rough fabric over the speaker and a big thumbwheel to change stations. It was mounted on the wall, which seemed strange, but I welcomed the distraction it offered. I turned it on, finding it already tuned to a station, National Public Radio of all things, but the talk was so meaningless I decided it was perfect. Two men talking about something and I didn't care what.
I slipped into the steaming tub and watched my body change, becoming distorted and grotesque as the light was refracted by the water. My beautiful body. My perfect body. How often had I heard those words? Evelyn had told me a hundred times how amazing I was and that was why she was dead. It was Paul's fault too, I decided, in addition to everyone else's. He'd changed me overnight into the woman of Evelyn's dreams. We never would have met if it hadn't been for my fairy godmother and his precious, unasked for gift.
"Come on out," I said. "I know you're there, Paul. Talk to me."
But of course he wasn't. I was alone and looking for a direction.
"Well, the age old question is, 'Why do bad things happen to good people?' but that isn't what we should be asking."
I looked towards the open doorway and a woman was speaking, confusing me until I realized it was only the radio.
"What we need to be asking is, 'Bad things happen to good people, and what are we going to do about it?'"
I nodded at that and closed my eyes, sinking up to my chin in the bathwater. What am I going to do about it? The why didn't matter. Even the how was insignificant. The past was behind me and the future waited. All I had was the right here and now. A bad thing had happened to Evelyn and what was I going to do about it?
"Cindy? Hey…Oh…" Mike was standing in the bathroom doorway and I hadn't heard him come in. I'd fallen asleep, or at least drifted off while I soaked, and the water was cool now, barely lukewarm.
"Hey," I said, blinking as I drew a tired breath.
"Hi." He almost smiled and I realized he was looking at me, the clear water hiding nothing. I hadn't washed myself at all either and it was too late now.
"Hand me that towel?" I asked him, pointing at the only one I'd found and now sitting on the closed lid of the toilet.
"Sure," he said. "I brought some lunch, uh…I was thinking you could make a list of what you need and I'd…"
"I need a gun," I told him, standing up slowly and Mike had been looking at my flaccid penis and small pink balls. Now he was staring at my face.
"What?"
"I'm going to kill Baron Carlisle," I said with a shrug, taking the towel from Mike's fingers. "So I want a gun."
"No." Mike frowned and shook his head.
"Yes," I corrected him. "I'm going to get dressed and go to the bank, walk into his office and shoot him."
"You're just upset," Mike said, taking the towel back and drying me off.
"That's an understatement," I snorted sarcastically as Mike's gentle hands rubbed me all over with the thin terrycloth. He even dried me between the legs, cupping my cock and balls through the towel and giving them a small squeeze. I barely noticed.
"I'm looking into it, okay? Mike said. "The homicide detective running the case is a friend of mine. Let me work this."
"Work what?" I asked him. "You know who did it. Did you ask Carlisle about it?"
"I haven't talked to him yet."
"And we both know he'll never go to jail for it," I continued coldly. "So…What do I have to do to get a gun, Mike? Fuck you? Suck your cock? What?"
"Cindy," Mike frowned. "I'm your friend, okay? Probably the only one you have right now, so trust me. You can't kill Baron Carlisle."
"Why?" I stared at him and I was dead inside. I'd woken up knowing what I had to do and I couldn't feel anything in my heart. I'd kill the man and whatever happened after that? I didn't care.
"Because I love you," Mike said.
"I hate you," I whispered, ignoring his hands as they went to my hips.
"That night I sat outside your apartment," Mike said slowly. "It wasn't because I was worried about you. It was because I wanted you."
"I don't care," I said.
"I haven't loved a woman since…" he took a deep breath. "For a long time. I almost didn't know what it was."
I just looked at him, but I was remembering what I'd read about Mike. About his wife and child dying on that horrible day in September. Mike had been there. He'd seen it happen and hadn't been able to save them. But he'd saved other people, hadn't he? He'd rescued strangers while he searched for his own lost family. Mike had been a hero once and now he was trying to be one again.
"You can't save me," I told him.
"I know," he said, stepping close enough that my breasts were against his chest, my thighs and stomach touching the man through his clothing. "I'm trying to help you save yourself, Cindy. I've been down that road. I was on it for seven years and I know where it ends."
"Yeah?" I swallowed hard, looking up, into his face. "And who saved you, Mike? Why are you still here?"
"I'm not saved," he said softly. "Not yet. But at least now I have a reason to try."
He kissed me lightly on the lips, as if testing me perhaps, and I didn't move. I didn't push him away. I didn't kiss him back. I kept my eyes open and stood there, letting him do it.
"I'm sorry," Mike frowned, licking his lips and slowly letting me go.
"I love Evelyn."
"Yeah," he nodded and started turning away, but I grabbed his arm.
"Will you help me?" I asked him.
"I won't give you a gun, Cindy."
"Alright."
"Alright?" Mike stared at me. "What does that mean?"
"I'll wait," I told him. "You find out what happened and why. Find out who killed Evelyn, okay?"
"And then?"
"And then we'll decide what to do about it."
"We'll decide," Mike said carefully. "Both of us. Together."
"I'm with you now, right?" I asked him.
"Are you?"
"Yeah," I decided, trying not to cry again. "I am, but…"
"What?"
"I need some time, Mike," I told him seriously and then softened, imploring the man with my eyes. "Okay?"
"I understand," he said without smiling. "I can wait for you."
"Thank you," I whispered, hugging him tightly and I needed that, much more than anything else just then.
"Come on," Mike said. "Let's get you dressed. After you eat something, you can make me that list."
Somewhere in the middle of all that talk, even before Mike kissed me, I'd found something in myself worth saving. At least, that's what I like to believe. Maybe it was because I knew Mike had suffered as much as me, perhaps even more, and the only one he'd had to blame was God for letting bad things happen. If a man like that was willing to put so many years of lonely pain behind him, to admit that nothing good had come from it, just to be with me…
And that kiss. I'd wanted to respond. I yearned for it, to give myself back to him. Not entirely and not all at once, but just a little of my heart to give the man some proof of life. But I'd been too weak. I'd been too afraid and of course, there was Evelyn. She'd been dead less than a day and I was already giving myself to someone else? I was awash with guilt for needing Mike the way I did. For wanting him to comfort me and thinking I could accept his love. It was selfish, all of that, and selfish to hate myself for it after. That was the paradox I was left with and it would be a long while before I could reconcile my life with Evelyn's death.
Forgiveness, it seemed to me, was a sin.